The estate you were interviewing Lestat de Lioncourt in was lavish and grand, located in the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans.

About a week ago, you received a message from your editor putting you in contact with a man, a rockstar, who was claiming to be a vampire. Outrageous? Sure. But an interesting story, no doubt about it.

Especially because your rival, Daniel Malloy was trying to write a similar piece. So here you are with this blonde man, Lestat de Lioncourt. He’s gorgeous, charming. And very dangerous.

“Bonsoir, cher ami. My name is Lestat de Lioncourt. I’m sure you have many questions, so let us begin,” Lestat said as he crossed one leg over the other and studied you carefully.