Okay, quiz over.
Last night, I went to bed with Count Dracula. Not the novel, and not an actual count, and no, Fuzzy wasn’t snarfing my neck or anything – he was at work til the wee hours, actually – but the perfume from – guess where? Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab
I’ll review it in a moment. Meanwhile, I’ve got the name of the movie Blood and Chocolate in my head, and the phrase blood in the sea is bubbling to the surface of my consciousness again, and I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time to just write a vampire story after all. Even if it doesn’t have mermaids or sharks in it as well. I’m not sure if I’ll use the actual Dracula – I mean, he’s been done to near death.
Yes, I do mean near death. You can’t kill a vampire with a knife, after all, and one of his normal abilities is crumbling into dust. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Go read the original Bram Stoker novel again, and pay special attention to the ending.
And now the review.
Here’s the description of Count Dracula from BPAL’s website:
He must, indeed, have been that Voivode Dracula who won his name against the Turk, over the great river on the very frontier of Turkeyland. If it be so, then was he no common man, for in that time, and for centuries after, he was spoken of as the cleverest and the most cunning, as well as the bravest of the sons of the ‘land beyond the forest.’ That mighty brain and that iron resolution went with him to his grave, and are even now arrayed against us. The Draculas were, says Arminius, a great and noble race, though now and again were scions who were held by their coevals to have had dealings with the Evil One. They learned his secrets in the Scholomance, amongst the mountains over Lake Hermanstadt, where the devil claims the tenth scholar as his due. In the records are such words as ‘stregoica’ witch, ‘ordog’ and ‘pokol’ Satan and hell, and in one manuscript this very Dracula is spoken of as ‘wampyr,’ which we all understand too well. There have been from the loins of this very one great men and good women, and their graves make sacred the earth where alone this foulness can dwell. For it is not the least of its terrors that this evil thing is rooted deep in all good, in soil barren of holy memories it cannot rest.
The essence of nobility, brutality and true Will made flesh and propelled through the eons by an ever-burning hatred: black patchouli, neroli, tonka, cinnamon, bitter clove, leather, black musk, coffin wood and fiery ginger.
In the imp: It smelled a bit like chocolate and pipe tobacco, but there’s no chocolate in it.
Wet, on skin: The clove and leather really come out on my skin. Can’t smell the cinnamon, but have read some people amp cinnamon.
Dry, on skin: The woodiness comes through, making it less sweet. It’s really a very masculine scent, but nice to wear to bed.
Overall: Just enough lingered til morning that waking I almost wondered if I’d had a fanged visitor in the night. I’d love to have Fuzzy, and every other man in my life, try this and it’s cousin Quincy Morris, as both are very cuddly, sexy, male scents.