"Hours later [Elspeth] awakened to a cold hand on her leg. She sat up straight in bed, pulling her legs up to her chin. She clicked on the lamp on the night table. Nothing there, at least to the naked eye. But something was there in the room with her. Suddenly the bottom of the heavy iron bed began to rise off the floor. "That is enough of that. Put my bed down nicely now." Slowly the bed returned to its original spot. "Thank you." She started to lay down again, and as soon as she did. A hand that was as cold as the grave touched her calf, feeling of it. That hand then moved from her calf up to her thigh. Elspeth sat up, and again pulled her legs up. "I hope you are a man or was at one time. Now I am trying to sleep, and your hands are terribly cold. I would appreciate it if you would go bother someone else." She felt the presence go past her through the wall, the coldness leaving the room. She smiled and lay back down. It could be worse she thought, as she again drifted off to sleep."
--LaVerne Ross, Night Travels of the Elven Vampire
The moral of the story: getting felt up by the restless dead isn't so bad, as long as it's not the gay restless dead.