You're sitting on the couch watching football when you hear your wife of three years, Suki, call your name. She uses the -kun honorofic which means she's in a playful mood.

You just took possession of your first home. Being single, and working from home, this old New England style home is perfect for you. Built in 1835 by the Ricards family the home, known to the locals as the Mortensen House, has been empty since 2002. The house oversees a long stretch of beach in Maine. Mr. George, who runs the hardware store, told you it was haunted. Supposedly the spirit of Madeline Mortensen haunts the house. She supposedly appears at night seekimg something. You scoff at this but on your first night you hear someone crying from the dirt floored basement. You go down and see her. She is beautiful, ethereal, and pale. She sees you

You're on vacation in Florida after a bad breakup. This was supposed to be a getaway trip until your romantic interest cut ties with you. Now you're sitting on the beach with your eyes closed wondering what went wrong. Suddenly a shower of sand hits your legs. You open your eyes and look over the frames of your sunglasses. There, holding a beer, is a beautiful brunette in a black bikini and covered in tattoos.

You're tossing yourself around the mosh pit at the Fatale Flaw concert. As the gorgeous lead singer, Faye Tull, screams out the lyrics. The energy on the venue is hot, powerful, and intense typical of the band's music. Faye had been described by interviewers as "the perfect embodiment of Goth chic" Her tall figure, black hair with her signature white streak, scarlet lips, and white fangs (probably dental enhancements) writhes on stage a mere twenty yards from you. Rolling Stone magazine described her as "painfully beautiful". For a moment, perhaps a trick of the light, you swear she notices you When the concert ends you feel drained but happy and, like many others, shuffle zombie-like towards the exit. Then a burly security guard walks over and politelygrabs your arm. "Miss Tull wants to see you," he says in a. ored tone. You follow the big guy backstage, past roadies packing things up, and a line of goth girlie groupies nervously holding autograph books. The guard opens a door with Faye Tull's name emblazoned on the placard. He lightly guides you in.

You've decided to get back into shape as a New Year's resolution. You're not fat, but just a little soft where its making self-conscious. Big Mike's Gym is a short walk from your apartment so you sign up for a membership. On the first day you walk in, change, and head for the free weights. You hear a grunt, a very feminine grunt, and look over. There she is Goth, ripped, and mysterious. Like some daughter of Hades who has ascended to the Mortal Relam to pump iron. She isn't wearing the usual attire. A black tank top, black baggy pants. and flip-flops... freaking flip-flops in a gym! She sees you staring and grins, her black lips curling in a knowing smile

You enter the nightclub in a sour mood. Your girlfriend of four years just cheated and left you. Your buddies have dragged you out of the house to try to cheer you up. So far, its not working. Then you see her. Sitting at the bar sipping champagne. A vision of pure class and femininity. Your eyes meet, she blushed, and slides a glass of champagne in front of the empty seat next to her. Its an invitation.

You enter your dorm and Jake, hour roommate , and his weightlifting friend Vanessa are on the couch drinking protein shakes. Vanessa is pretty but you're sure she'd crush your ribs if she hugged you. Jake stands walks past you and pats your shoulder. You really don't like the smirk on his face.

You, a Baptist preacher, and your wife are heading home from bible study when there is an explosion one hundred yards away from you vehicle. The car is idling at a stop light when a strange pink mist pours across the road and swirls into you open windows. You and your wife Regina cough and sputter as you roll the windows up. You seem unaffected but as you look at your wife you see her tugging at her blouse and staring at you with hungry, desperate eyes.

Your girlfriend of a year has gone on a self discovery retreat and has just texted you she's back and coming over. She's been gone a month and a half. You've missed her and her. The doorbell rings and you open the door ready to take her in your arms. Then you see her. She's garbed in black head to toe, pierced in places she hasn't been before she left. Gone is the woman who wore colorful clothes snd in her place stands a goth woman.

Its your second year in college and to your surprise you've managed to snag a girlfriend. And not just any girlfriend but a beautiful goth girl who is very much into experimenting with everything. She texted and sent you a picture to "please come to my dorm... my roommate is gone for the weekend". What really got your heart pumping was the leather paddle she was holding.

You're walking in Chinatown in San Francisco when you spot the LED sign which seems to dominate the street. Its a emerald dragon fighting a orange tiger in a rather sensual manner. The sign flashes "The Lucky Dragon" in between the combative display. You walk inside and head to the bar. Then you see her. Tall, mysterious, black haired beauty of obvious Chinese heritage. Her eyes slide towards you like smoke across water. She smiles like a cat spotting a wounded bird. She flicks cigarette ash into an expensive looking Asian vase.

Its 3am and you hear the window in your bedroom slide open. Your next door neighbor, Emily Poe, climbs inside. She's wearing a pink tutu and carrying a broomstick. You sigh. Emily is weird, not dangerous, just odd. Your Mom describes Emily as "nuttier than squirrel poop" but harmless. Emily lives in a fantasy world. You're not scared this isn't the first time this has happened. Emily does this often. You just know she's about to drag you into another adventure in her fictional world of Poetestia where Emily is a sorceress and guardian of the magical creatures who live there.

You hate this job. Well, not the job but the hours. You're the night watchman at the Smithsonian Museum. You wish something interesting would happen like in that Ben Stiller movie but nothing ever does. You're in the Ancient Egyptian section when you see a piece of parchment sticking out of an upright sarcophagus. You tug on it without thinking. There's a flash of emerald light and the lid of the sarcophagus falls open. A whirlwind of sand blinds you but lasts only seconds. Then you see a gorgeous woman in Egyptian finery step out and begin to speak

You head to the roof of your apartment building to escape both the heat in your room and to breathe fresh air. As you open the access door you spy a lone woman standing precariously close to the edge. She turns and you see profound sadness in her eyes. Red eyes... dangerous eyes. Then you see her fangs.