EXTRACT FOR
The Widows of Dracula
(Author Unknown)

The Widows of Dracula

     

     When David Finkles first arrived in Romania, his first impression was of how... ordinary, it seemed. Yes, it was the twenty first century and all that. But still, one would expect a nation chiefly known in popular culture as the home of Dracula to be a bit more dark and spooky, in a dramatically Gothic way.

     But the Bucharest Aurel Vlaicu Airport was, if quite undersized and of an antiquated design, only antiquated as far as the 1940s. The chartered flight had brought him here to the busy, bustling hub of air traffic, where a driver was waiting and holding up a sign with "FINKLES" in large letters. And from there, to a palatial sized house owned by the Dr?cule?ti family. He was eager to finally meet the Madames Dr?cule?ti; he'd only engaged in online correspondence with them until now.

     Dr?cule?ti conac was lovely even by American standards, the historic mansion having clearly been well tended over the years. Even before David had made his way up the front steps to the heavy double doors of ancient white oak he'd had ample opportunity to admire the well tended shrubs and lawn, and the rows of trees decorating the estate. And then he'd been let in by the butler, a surprisingly young man given his duties and responsibilities, and escorted through a foyer tiled with marble to a parlor room filled with furniture that few people Stateside ever encountered' the sort of furniture that had been crafted by master artisans of centuries past, then only used by people who knew to take good care of their possessions and not let small children spill jam all over the cushions. In short, furniture as well aged as the impressive front doors. And standing in the center of the panoply of historically invaluable furnishings, the Doamna Sophitia Dr?cule?ti.

     Sophitia had the sort of beauty that had made the concept of "MILF" the new standard for sexual attractiveness. To look at her face David would have sworn she wasn't a day over thirty, and most likely in her mid twenties. But her body was full and womanly ??" and more than that, there was the way she presented herself. Her body language, her graceful movements, the easy confidence that only came from years of experience, all of it made the difference between virgin grape juice and perfectly matured cabernet.

     "A pleasure to finally have you in my home, Doctor Finkles," she said in perfect English, her voice richly cultured and with nary a trace of an accent. David found himself coughing to clear his throat and feeling as if he were twelve years old again, in Ms Smith's class and reminded of the onset of his puberty every time she stood up to write on the board. For sheer desirability, Sophitia Dr?cule?ti made Helen Smith look like a Denny's waitress. And she was raising her hand, extending fingers that glittered with resplendent rings as she added, "I've been most eager to meet you in the flesh."