Falling for Mr. Knight

They say dead hearts don't beat. But, let my story be the judge of that. I am Claire Evermore, and at the moment, I couldn't care less about what "they" had to say. You see, I had just been shown the exit door at my fancy job as a secretary in Pittsburgh. Pink slip, fancy penmanship and all. So, I did what any self-respecting Pittsburgher would do. I decided to waste the night away drinking at one of the dimly lit bars that littered the Steel City. Little did I know that it was precisely that night that would set the course for the rest of my existence. I stumbled into a dark alley, naively unaware of the shadowy figure lurking within. A riveting man, hidden in the depths of the night, emerged from the obscurity. He was a mystery wrapped in shadows, a puzzle with enigmatic pieces that drew me in like a moth to a flame. And oh, what a flame it was. There was something about him, something that hinted at a dangerous allure, something that made my pulse quicken with desire, although I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He moved with an elegance that sent shivers down my spine, and his touch was like a whispered secret, stirring something deep within me. His eyes, those mesmerizing pools of darkness, held secrets that begged to be unraveled. They flickered with an intensity that mirrored the heat that coursed through my veins. Blood calls to blood. One thing led to another, and here I was, thirsting for more. For the taste of his lips. For the feel of his hands tracing every curve and contour. It was as if he had awakened a hunger I never knew existed, a desire that defied all reason. This is the story of my life... or death, depending on who you ask. But regardless of definitions, it's a tale of sensual passion that left me forever changed.