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searching through my things.
    Furious, I jumped out of bed. “Alexander! You can’t do that, it’s an invasion of privacy!”
    “So, cal the police. Or better yet, write a paper on it! Of course, you’re welcome to try to stop me if you want — but good luck with that! Where do you keep your work anyway?”
    I tried to stop him but it was like trying to stop a man of iron. I would have had an easier time manipulating a life-sized bronze statue. No matter how I tried grabbing his arms or pushing him away, I had zero effect on his actions.
    He continued rummaging around my room like I wasn’t even there. It was infuriating!
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    Then he discovered my printer. That’s where he found a ten-page article I’d written on a woman who’d started a non-profi t organization to teach art to children of low income families. I respected the woman so much, I wanted to write an article that would reveal how special she is so people would want to support her.
    The vampire ceremoniously sprawled out on my bed in triumph. “What are you so worried about anyway?”
    Angry and frustrated, I went back to my side of the bed, fl at on my back, crossed my arms and stared at the ceiling while he read my article. I mentally cursed him for being so thoughtless of my feelings, so arrogant and selfi sh! But my anger soon morphed into fear as he silently read my words. The words I’d poured my heart and soul into. I knew I’d have to learn to face the fact that people would be reading those and many other words I’d put to paper. But I was counting on having time to adjust to that. He was giving me an ice water dip and I didn’t like it at all. And I wasn’t liking him very much either!
    I knew writing was my special cal ing in life but I was still feeling tentative about revealing that side of myself to the world — not that he was the world. He was a dead and stupid vampire. No — even less than that, he was only a dream! Stil , at that moment he was an especial y annoying dream, and a dream that could hurt me emotionally. I felt myself blush as he continued to read and turn the pages of my heart and soul. It was long minutes of emotional torture.
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    When he was fi nally done reading, he just lay there on his back quietly with a neutral expression on his face. Finally, he placed my heart and soul on the nightstand next to him.
    Then he rol ed toward me, took my hand and gently kissed it with his cool lips. He moved close and whispered in my ear, “Zoe, you’re bril iant.” He didn’t say anything else last night but he didn’t have to. He tenderly rested his head on my shoulder and held my hand in his. And I knew for certain that he honestly liked it and his brief response was far better than any other words he could have spoken.
    † † †
    Zoe put down the journal, grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and wiped the tears from her face. It was the fi rst time she had realized that after that one dream she never again worried about anyone rejecting her work. From that point forward she wrote freely and with confi dence and passion.
    † † †
    It was getting close to midnight but Zoe was nearing the end of the last notebook and she couldn’t bring herself to stop reading it. All of the wonderful feelings she’d ever had for Alexander had returned. There were times she hated him, loved him and laughed with him. She was seeing how her dreams had formed her life and indeed shaped her as a person. He had been her family. For all she’d previously been through with her parents and now with Michael, she 35

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    continued to be the person she always was and she owed it to her dreams of Alexander.
    Reading through her journals was an evolution for her and once again, the vampire was saving her from ruin. What Alexander had really done for Zoe, was he’d made her feel loved and knowing that someone, even a made-up entity, had made her feel special a few nights each week