With his left hand he held both Mrs Harker’s hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension; his right hand gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man’s bare breast, which was shown by his torn open dress.
Magic and Imagery — book covers, posters, art — fondly-remembered icons that once evoked mysteries and emotions within my savage breast, and that still resonate with the echoes of tales wondrous and well-told.
You must write more to explain your pubescent interest in a guy who comes out of the darkness and sucks the period out of women.
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