And speaking of zombies… musings for being the go-to-person for all things weird

By no fault of my own I seem to be the “go to persons” for all things weird and random.

It is our local “men in black” or so I call them. Crap, everybody calls them that. They come from some undisclosed government agency (we think it is the government but who knows) and we know NOTHING of their personal lives. Do they even have personal lives? Do they come home to tired wives who’ve been working all day and kids and dogs and screaming cats with litter boxes to be changed and ancient relations and…well you get the drift. Who are these guys? But more the case today “Why the Hell are they at MY HOUSE?”

Oh right. Zombies. I don’t know nothing about no stinkin Zombies. OK, I do know about Zombies but I’m not telling these guys anything.

Just because we’re Vampires doesn’t mean that you can come to my home at anytime and make demands.

I figured at that point the neighbors would figure these guys were selling religion or something. Then again my neighbors were weirder than we are so I shouldn’t care.

Standing at the end of my driveway the Ghost (wearing a white silk suit, obviously Italian, and black sunglasses) gave me a sweet smile then flipped me off and vanished. Nothing new there.

The two agents, men I knew well, or at least knew what they were, stood on my front porch next to the cute little “welcome” plaque and pretty wreath with sea shells (what did you expect skulls and an open bucket of blood).

“We understand you know the wereabouts of Michael Owens and Melissa Nelson, two escaped Zombies.” So said one of the men.

I just looked at them and said nothing. They know I’m a Vampire but they also know I have more information about the non-regular world than they’ll ever have access to.

“Listen Juliette, we know they were your friends. We know they contacted you.”

These are the times I wished I had large scary dogs. I just have this one. 45 pounds of pure dog love and goodness.

 Not too scary at 45 pounds and such a sweet face.

Then I remembered that I wasn’t alone.

I heard a voice behind me. “Honey, is someone at the door?”

My husband Teddy and my brother Max came up behind me to see what was going on.

Max and my husband Teddy are imposing to say the least. Max is buffed with broad shoulders and a preference for tight black tee shirts that show off his chest, shoulders and massive biceps. His brown hair is longish, past his collar, giving him that sexy look that women love but sort of rogue looking. Teddy is, well, Teddy. My husband is devastatingly handsome in an almost unreal way and always (unlike his wife) impeccably groomed.

The men at the door gasped. Yes, they gasped, because they were looking at a legend. You see my brother Maxwell is a hunter of Vampire Hunters, Rogue Vampires and whatever evil beings threaten the world in which we (the not so regular ones) live.  He does things that the regular humans in their dark sunglasses and black suits can only dream of. And my husband, well he just looks so unbelievably handsome that it takes your breath away if you’re not used to him.

Anyway, we got rid of them in a nice and polite way. They were warned. I hope they both, for their own health and sanity change profession.  Not much point to that story except it just never seems to end, the little annoying stuff that takes up my nights and days. Thank goodness the kids were out with friends.

Max and Teddy got back to their ball game (did I mention that Vampires love baseball) and I fed the dog.

Pouring a glass of wine I went out on my deck to enjoy some peace and quiet. I’d call my Zombie friends in the morning and help them find a new place to hide.

The Ghost appeared and sat down next to me stretching his long legs out in front of me.

“Interesting evening.” He looked at me through dark sunglasses and smiled.

“To say the least,” I replied.

“I was just thinking today about how my grandfather and I used to laugh until we cried. Then he’d take off his glasses and wipe his eyes. I thought of that today when I took off my glasses when those goons were at your door and wanted to laugh until I cried. Weird how memory works. Damn I miss him so much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I had some of the best times of my life with him.” His dark glasses vanished and he wiped a tear from his eye and gave me a weak smile. I he hadn’t been a ghost I would have given him a hug.

It is a blessing how we can switch from one subject to another, from one emotion to another, from one memory to the next. It is also a blessing to have friends who are so different, yet we form those bonds of trust and comfort that are hard to break.

So bring on the weirdness, for with it comes…well, I’m not sure what it brings, but it sure makes things interesting.  Well, kind of, sort of.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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