After centuries of roaming the cities of the world, they have found eachother...by chance. Two solitary Vampires, the last remaining preternaturals on Earth. Both appear human in form, youthful to the eye and swift of step. They walk besides you, behind you, and have always moved among you...on your city streets, and in the half-light of your clubs and bars. Perhaps they have already touched you. A gesture here, a grin or grimace there. And always a word, for their words be wisdom-woven.

Should you live in New York City, you are neighbour to One, The Vampire Casper Freake, The Oldest Living Vampire on Earth. Were Dublin Ireland to be your home, then to The Other be you neighbour, The Vampire Mordi Kildare, Ireland's Darkest Secret. Where ever it be that you live, you are now witness to their lives. For here, among these pages, Casper Freake and Mordi Kildare are writing their timely letters to eachother, which they zestfully term THE LETTERS OF THE UNDEAD.

A Hoar, sitting perched atop a fat stiff chair in Dublin City, for such is how she finds comfort, be the Secretary to The Vampires. A most unpleasant sight to behold (with tongue of gutter-snipe and breath of boar-belch), THE HOAR OF AGES has at hand a plethora of 'tasks mudane' to which the Vampires have commissioned her. Indeed,  The Hoar may respond on occasion to letters arriving from humans and addressed to The Vampires. She also attends to The Heavy Black Phone, to which humans may leave voice messages for Freake and Kildare at will. In her miserable kitchen, she bakes a most indecent Cake, The DearVampire Clog.