Excerpt: The Redemption of Bishop Wilmarth

A better right hand man, no one could ask for. He stood as the epitome of Ventrue evolution; he was everything the clan aspired to. His clothing tonight was in his usual style, a dark grey suit, conservative lines that blended well with his tall, solid body without leaping out to hit anyone over the head with their presence. His tie lay well against his white shirt, a dark ruby red that was almost black, secured by a silver tie pin in the shape of a crest. It was the crest of his family, hailing from the Scottish highlands and bearing his only shame in the inadequately pure lineage that the European Ventrue looked for in their clansmen. The only thing I found fault with was that the slicked back hair, sunglasses and goatee combined with the slightly anachronistic cut of his suit made him look a little too much like our Giovanni counterparts or something out of noir fiction. Like most vampires, he had trouble keeping up with the times.