I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the supersensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy and waited--waited with beating heart.

What do I possibly say about Bram Stoker’s Dracula? In my book, it’s the Holy Grail of classic horror and romanticism, and its light outshines its heavy cloud of darkness throughout the entire novel, thanks to the noble, pure, angelic qualities of the main characters. Where are the Lucy Westenras and Mina Harkers of the world? And why can’t they be my friends? Seriously, where do friends like this exist in the 21st Century? And don’t get me started on Van Helsing, Quincy, and Jonathan Harker. These guys are loyal and pure to the core, and their devotion to one another during their journey is beyond heartwarming. I am also won over by the their pursuit of the Count and their fight to protect Lucy and Mina, which is an incredible love story, representing love in many different forms and on different levels.

With the most beautiful, haunting imagery I’ve ever read and classic lore that’s made me fall in love with writing paranormal fiction all over again, Dracula reminds me why the alluring, dangerous, and erotic characteristics of its monsters still fascinate us today and why they've inspired the evolution of the vampire. Before I ramble any further and my thoughts become more disjointed than they already are, I will just say that this will always be one of my favorite works of art and I’d recommend it to anyone for its use of language alone.