Posted on Wednesday, 7 October 2009

What’s up?” I asked. Pam usually worked at Fangastia in the evening.
“I have a date,” she said. “Do you think I look good?” She spun around.
“Oh sure,” I said. “You always look good Pam.” That was only the truth. Though Pam’s clothing choices were often ultraconservative and strangely dated, that didn’t mean they didn’t become her. She had a kind of sweet-but-lethal charm. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
She looked as arch as a vampire over two hundred years old can look. “Who says it’s a guy?” she said.
Charlaine Harris, From Dead to Worse

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