Monthly Archives: April 2014

My hands still keep the memory…

by

8

I let you sleep

As I steal away

Into the morning light

 

 

Wake up to all

Cats and dog

Birds

Children

Off to school

And work…

Always work

 

 

Coffee and

A wish for something stronger

 

 

My hands still keep

The memory

Of the smooth

Cotton of your shirt

The cool pearl of buttons

As I pushed it

From your shoulders

And kissed your neck

So gently.

 

 

I feel your kiss

Your finger in my hair

The flutter of your lashes against my cheek

A days worth of beard

On my skin

On my neck.

 

 

No prey are you

But like me

Like us

Cold

Calm

Passion

That only Vampires

Like us,

Have with

Vampires

Like us.

 

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman
(who will celebrate her 18th Wedding Anniversary with Teddy on May 3)

 

How to write a response to a love letter (which is more fun if it isn’t addressed to YOU)

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4

Love letters… everyone is in love with posts about love letters.

As you know I cover all sorts of subjects on this blog ranging from teens to terror to ghosts to the elderly to… well everything… but the most popular post of ALL TIME here at Vampiremaman.com is below (first published a while back, you might have seen it before.)

Following are also links to additional posts about love letters and examples of love letters to inspire even the coldest heart.

 

Vampire Heart

Part One: How to Write A Love Letter

How would I write a love letter?

As if I’d tell my teen that. Teens usually know but forget as they grow old and fearful.

I would write it by hand on a yellow legal pad with pencil. I would write it over and over until it was exactly right. Then I’d get a fine piece of stationary and write the perfect letter with perfect script.

There are different kinds of love letters. There are those that say:  Hey, I really like you a lot, lets get together. There are love letters that are heart breaking and say: I’m lost without you. There are those that say: You are the one, the only one, the absolute only one. And there are those that say: After all these years together I love you still and always and forever.

It is simple really.

  • Don’t sound desperate. That will turn someone off like a box full of baby rattlesnakes (I’ve been wanting to say that for a while).
  • Simple is good.
  • Poetic is always good.
  • The truth is good.
  • Don’t talk about YOU. Talk about the one you love.
  • Talk about US.
  • Abstract is good if it isn’t totally cryptic.
  • Using quotes from others is ok too if you are at a loss for words.
  • Write it and wait.
  • A good love letter is like wine; it needs to sit for a bit. Write it and wait. Then after you’ve waited look it again.

But that isn’t really what this is about…

Part Two: How to write a response to a love letter (which is more fun if it isn’t addressed to YOU)

I’m not the kind of person who spies on my spouse or kids. I don’t go through drawers (but I will go through an attic) or personal papers. I won’t even read your email or go through your phone. It just isn’t good to pry.

BUT that said…there are situations where ALL BETS ARE OFF.

In a little over a week my romantically minded, smart, funny and handsome son Garrett will turn 17.  His best buddy Randy is throwing him a bash and they are all going to dress up. Top hats, tails, ball gowns, the works. But it is all vintage. The girls are at the vintage and thrift stores or raiding their mother’s closets. The boys are looking at what their fathers and grandfathers have plus raiding the thrift stores and vintage shops.

Garrett came downstairs in a beautiful long black coat. It came almost to his knees, beautifully cut. He looked so handsome, so much like his father.

“Dad said I could wear this. What do you think?”

“Wow. Perfect.” I remember long ago when my husband Teddy wore that coat. It was long before we married, in another time and place.

“Look what I found in the pocket.” Garrett held out a pale cream-colored envelope.

Inside was a note written in a beautiful script.

March 20, 1889

My Darling,

The sun shines but brings nothing so warm or bright as my memory of your kiss. Last night under the stars of heaven I thought I’d been taken by an angel. Yet, when I opened my eyes it was you with your arms around me. Your kiss took me away from the common world into the world of Venus and Mars.  My heart quickens at the thought of you. The sound of your voice, the touch of your hand, your lips on mine.

My love, my life, my always.

Meet me tomorrow at the gates of the cathedral.

Until then my love,

Always and forever.

Mary

Oh my.

The three of us looked at each other then for no reason we started to laugh.

“So if you have to respond what would you write?” I asked this of my kids knowing they are always up for a creative challenge.

Thirteen-year-old Clara went first.

Dear Mary,

I’m in love with someone else. She is totally clueless to how I feel. She is the only one I want to hunt with. She makes me laugh. She is beautiful. I want her to be the mother of my children. I won’t have the courage to tell her for another 100 years. Sorry. Go find yourself a nice guy.  I might be good looking but I’m a real pain in the butt. Most exceptionally good-looking guys are like that. We all think we’re “all that”. You don’t want a guy who thinks he is “all that”. Give it a few months and you won’t like me anymore.  I bet you’ll hate me. Besides, I hate to break this to you but if you haven’t figured it out already I’m a Vampire.

You ROCK Mary and I know you’ll find someone better than I can ever be.

Theodore

 

Next Garrett read his letter aloud.

Dear Mary,

Your beauty lights up a room,

Both beauty of your body and soul,

Forgive me for being so forward,

To dare say,

You are dear, so dear to me.

But I must protect your heart,

And speak the truth,

I am a man of the shadows,

And would kill your sunshine,

And your glowing light and spirit.

I would never make you happy.

I will always treasure our time together.

You are beauty and light that I would never be able to hold.

Fly free Mary. Fly free and find love where you deserve it.

In the light,

In the sun,

With someone who can love you

The way you deserve to be loved.

 

Always in my heart,

Theodore

By then both of my children were laughing so hard they had slid off the couch and were on the floor.

So I wrote my response.

Darling Mary,

I would run my hands down your bare shoulders then kiss your beautiful neck. I would slowly undress you and gaze upon your beauty in the moonlight knowing that you are mine alone. I will take what I desire, but leave you with more than you could ever imagine. When you gasp your little sighs of pleasure I will sink my fangs into you and drain your blood from your body. I will fill your soul with dark carnal thoughts that will drive you insane and ruin you for any other man. Then I will leave you begging for more, never to see you again. So Mary, forget me, unless you want a life of ruin and insanity.

T

I folded that one up because there is no way I’d read THAT to my children.

I started over.

My dearest Mary,

I have not been honest with you. I have a wife and three children in America. I respect you too much to make you my mistress or even be your close friend.

I am sorry.

~ Theodore

We heard a loud engine and then the loud stereo. Teddy (Theodore) was home.

We didn’t tell him why we were all smiling but he liked way the jacket fit Garrett.

“Who is Mary?” Garrett asked his father. Clara started to giggle.

I put my arm around Teddy’s waist and handed him the letter.

“Mary? Oh right, she was a girl I met at a party in London. Pretty girl and insanely wealthy. She had a crush on your Uncle Maxwell. What, you didn’t think she wrote that letter to me did you? It was for Max.”

“What happened?” I asked in anticipation of a good story.

“Nothing. I never gave it to him. She didn’t know he was a Vampire or anything other than he was a charming man with an air of danger about him.”

“What happened to her?” 13-year-old Clara had to ask.

Teddy smiled. “Mary met the love of her life a few weeks later and lived a long and happy life.”

Which goes to show that sometimes the best love letters are those that are never sent.

 

 

Vampires write love letters too

 

Of course this all proves once again that being kissed by a Vampire isn’t a bad thing. (Click here for a story about that)

And more on writing love letters for those of you who are REALLY IN LOVE. The art of writing love letters is alive and well (click here for beautiful examples.)

And click here for even on the art of writing love letters.

And of course… Monsters in Love

If you want even more go into the search box and put in love letters. You’ll find many articles on the subject here at Vampiremaman.com

 

 

 ~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

loveletter

Short Story Sunday: Tell Tail Heart (or A Literary Tale)

by

12

A Literary Tale

He woke with a start.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

THUMP THUMP THUMP

Immediately he thought of The Tell Tale Heart, that story of horror written by Poe.

Bolting up in bed and now awake he realized it was just the thumping tails of his brother’s wolfhounds. Why had he agreed to take care of the beasts for the week?

These huge beasts were no Baskerville Hounds. They were sweet and goofy. Sure they could kill, he supposed they could kill, but they were just happy dogs. Large dogs with large hearts. Large dogs who needed to go out and leave large piles in his yard. And they needed to do that RIGHT NOW.

All week long he’d been obsessed with trying to find the story that matched his life. No Jane Austin. No Thomas Wolf. Maybe a touch of Charlotte Bronte or Donna Tartt. A little Dave Stone or Nathan Tackett. Maybe Mandy White? J. Harrison Kemp? Gabriel García Márquez? The poetry of Daniel Tanzo? Jade M. Phillips? David X. Hunter or Michael Haberfelner? Lucy Lastic? Stephen King? More like it the beautiful haunting romantic historic stories of Diana Garcia or Marie Frankson. What about John Sanford or John Steinbeck. He liked the idea of Steinbeck. He liked the idea of all of them… except maybe White or King. That pair of horror writers were brilliant but far too scary to base a life on their works. Rob Betz , Angie Parisi or Gina McKnight came to mind. He thought about it for a while longer while the dogs played and ran in the yard as the sun vanished and night took over the sky.

He returned inside and fed the large gray beasts. If dogs could write what would they write about? His mind was on finding a story. The dogs curled up on the floor next to a wall of bookshelves. He looked at the hundreds of titles. All had inspired him but none were his life.

Then he pulled a small volume out and fingered the pages. In pencil were sketches and stories a friend had written years ago. Since then he’d followed her tales. Stories of fantasy, then stories of real life.

He picked up his phone and called. She picked up. “Marla, this is Andrew. I just wanted to tell you… What have you been up to?”

They talked for hours about life and the past 18 years, since her wedding. She’d lived life not like one of her stories but almost as exciting.

“You were never afraid of me. I mean, because I’m a Vampire,” Andrew told her.

“You were never afraid of me because I’m a writer,” she told him.

He laughed. They made plans. She’d keep writing her stories. And as for Andrew, he’d keep living his own story.

 

 

____________________________________

For more fiction from Juliette Kings, Marla Todd, Mandy White and others click here for a list of find fun and fantastic short fiction.

For more short stories from the authors listed above click here.

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For more about Andrew just put in his name (Andrew or Andy) in the search window of this blog. You’ll come up with a bunch of stuff. Or go to the Stand Alone story link (left sidebar) and see “Morning at the Vineyard” or “Dancing on the Beach.”

Happy Reading,

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

poe harry clarke

Science Fiction and… maybe not.

by

2

You never know where creative ideas are going to come from. I’m around teens a lot. Teens belch. Write what you know (so I write about teens and Vampires) but sometimes we can be inspired to write something new. I’ve never written any real hard-core science fiction. So on the drive home from skate practice yesterday I thought of a story and told my 14-year-old daughter and sounding board Clara.

My idea:

There is a planet with two different forms of life. The first form of life belches a lot. They belch out gas that the second form of life need to live.

Clara looked at me and said “Mom that isn’t one of your best efforts.” Then in a deep strong Southern accent she says, “Bob come over here and belch in my face so I can keep living.”

“I was thinking they were more like toads or something.”

“Mom, that is so lame.”

Later I told my husband who respond with “That is really bad.”

So much for being the next Philip K. Dick. Maybe on a good day I might get close to H.G. Wells. That would be a really great day.

Friday morning could have been out of a science fiction story…

Being with the elderly is always interesting. A little bit of time travel, a little bit of wisdom, a little bit of “I’m too old to give a shit about what anyone thinks” attitude. The attitude is what makes being really old so delightful.

I stopped by to see the Elders. They’re ancient Vampires. Nobody is quiet sure how old. They look like they’re around 19 or 20 but they’ve been around since before the birth of Christ. It is my job, now with the help of my brother Val, to look in on them and make sure they’re ok.

When I arrived they fluttered around me, giving kisses and hugs. They sang a song to me Irving Berlin’s “I Love to Have the Boys Around Me.” Yes, they’re pretty random, but also exceptionally sweet.

Eleora had her long reddish-brown curls up in a loose bun and a most interesting outfit. She’d taken one of those old lady track suits. You know the kind I’m talking about – velourish fabric pants and top, always matching, usually in bright colors. Always monochromatic. Eleora rarely wears trousers (what she calls all pants.) But she wanted that track suit. So she made the pants into a skirt. Remember those skirts in the 1970’s made out of jeans? The legs were split and usually patchwork fabric (yes, like a quilt) was a large triangle in the front making a swell skirt. Well, Eleora had done that with her track pants. It was a riot of colors and patterns all in reds. She was so happy twirling around for me.

So maybe I don’t need science fiction to be weird. Sometime I just need my own life, which is always weird and astounding and fantastic and full of astonishing things I could never imagine.

It is a coolish Saturday and I’m going off to downtown to have more adventures – with a car full of teens no less. Vampires on the go. We’ll see what happens.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

vampire space

 

Is he gay? Well, um, does it matter?

by

4

skatepair

 

The other night my brother Val was out in a popular crowded pub, doing what Vampires do, getting a bite to eat, when an attractive woman approached him.

Mind you, for all of you who are new here, we aren’t those creepy creatures with blood dripping from our chins wearing musty old black capes lurking around with claw like fingernails. We’re well groomed, well dressed, clean and most of us are somewhat, if not unusually attractive.

That said, Val was talking with a friend when a pretty young woman came up to him and asked, “What year were you born?”

He was somewhat take aback and told her, with a flirtatious smile, “1858.” A true and amusing answer, especially considering she had no idea what he is. And I have to admit that my brother is awfully cute.

She gave him an annoyed look and asked, “Are you gay?”

“I am if you want me to be,” my brother replied.

Without a word the young woman went back to her friends.

Val has been puzzled all week by her question and her reaction to his answer.

 

This sort of looks like Val but not quite (you know I can't show photos of my family here.)

This sort of looks like Val but not quite (you know I can’t show photos of my family here.)

 

When I tell people my daughter has a skating partner for dance (artistic roller skating) people ALWAYS ask me the one question. “Is he gay?”

Excuse me? The first time I was flustered and said “No he goes to…” and I gave them the name of his high school.

I don’t know the answer to that. I never even thought about it. It doesn’t really matter. Gay or straight he is a good skater and I’m so proud of those kids for being such a great team. They work hard. They have fun. They’re championship material. They could both be gay for all it matters, because it doesn’t matter.

Every time someone asks me that question I just want to scream “What are you stupid on top of being rude?” And I say that because they ask in that weird uncomfortable way… I can’t even describe it.  Ugh. My head is going to explode.

I know they ask because he is a boy who skates. Sigh. Would they ask if he played football or was on the track team? No, they wouldn’t. At least in skating nobody has to be afraid of being who they. In skating you can be yourself and be an incredible world-class athlete.

In skating, if you’re a guy, you can work up a sweat while you hold on to pretty girl who is also working up a sweat and nobody says a thing about it. Skating is a great sport for any guy – gay or straight.

In football guys slap male butts and jump all over each other. Nobody asks if those guys are gay (in a condescending way) and nobody giggles about it.

So why be rude about gay skaters and not about gay football players? Why do football players have to keep it secret if they have a boyfriend (not a girlfriend.)

Yes, it is confusing. So why do people care? Why be rude at all? This is sports not matchmaking. There is no such thing as a gay or straight sport. It is just a sport. It has nothing to do with the sexuality of the athletes. It has everything to do with skill and good sportsmanship.

So please, stop asking me if any of my kids’ friends are gay or straight, or smart or stupid, or pretty or plain. They’re teens just trying their best to make it through high school with as little drama as possible and as many good memories as possible.

My kids just shake their heads about stuff like this. In their world and the world of their friends there isn’t much room for labels. We’re all so complex and different from each other, yet we’re all more alike than we can imagine or even list. So yes, the world our kids are growing up in, in a lot of ways, is a better place.

And we all know… if everyone was the same the world would be a really boring place.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

rollerskating

Quotations about Life, Love, Art and Vampires

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4

Quotes about Life, Love, Art and Vampires from Vampire Maman

Our old friends

 

The only thing a man should wax is his car.

vswirl2

I was so angry I could have killed him… then I remembered he was a Vampire.

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The closest I get to a true religious experience is when I’m in the presence of art

v_swirl

I can explain the wonder and awe and feeling of being so complete and one with the universe when I’m in the presence of art. It is time travel for the soul. It is the essence of being. It was something that transports.  It is like a high that no drug can match. It is magic.

vswirl2

There is something romantic about most art as well, or at least the art I’m attracted to, be if figural, landscape, modern or ancient.

board

When I pass him he always puts a hand on my waist or back. He takes my hand when we walk or sit anywhere. We don’t even have to talk, but we do talk. We talk a lot – all the time. We never run out of things to talk about. We’ve been together for a long time and have our banter down to an art. It delights most and some find it extremely annoying, but it is what we do. And a lot of that conversation/banter is about art.

wings

Val always says “love isn’t a physical thing. It is a meeting of souls. Be it friendship or romantic lovers, it is something we can write about and dream about, but we can never truly explain or define it.”

v_swirl

Just shut up and give it a rest.

vswirl2

“What are you?” I asked him that question surprising myself that I didn’t ask who but what.

He laughed and I caught something different in his smile. His teeth. He looked like he had fangs. “I am a genetic wonder and mystery. I am the Velociraptor of the human subspecies.” Then he looked serious. “Shawna, don’t be afraid of what I tell you for I would never harm you. I am a Vampire.”

“Like in the movies?” I stupidly asked.

“No, like the guy standing next to you. Like the guy who came down to the ends of the earth to heal a broken heart and soul, to give up, to write songs and wallow in my misery only to find you.”

traditional vampire

I will be with you even when we fall apart and our body parts trail behind us…and there is nothing left except our love. ~ From a Zombie Love Letter

vswirl2

You’re the warm summer breeze against my skin. You’re a warm embrace on a cold winter night. You’re the hot in my chocolate. You’re the key to my lock. You’re the one who knows the punch line.

v_swirl

Eleora quietly got out a few plates. “I was 300 years old before I tasted cheese.”

flurish

As a Vampire you are a born liar (like a cat.) That isn’t a good thing or a bad thing. It is just a thing. Just like being a writer – you tell a certain truth, even if it might be the truth, say in an alternate universe. You’re only a liar if you tag your work “non-fiction” or if you’re an asshole, but that is another story. Ask Oprah about it.

vswirl2

Everybody loves to hate on people who write about Vampires.

v_swirl

Most Vampire Hunters will be heard in hushed whispers or desperate cries “Don’t look into their eyes or they’ll have you.”

Most Vampire Hunters are idiots but it is true about the eyes. The mirror to the soul and the entrance to all of your wildest dreams and most dreaded nightmares.

v_swirl

But I stayed. I held him close, because sometimes just something warm is nice. He turned me around to face a mirror. His image was clear. My own Vampire image was a shadow or like a ghost. It was like the image in a daguerreotype that vanishes when turned or shown in the sunlight.

“Look at my eyes, in the mirror and I’ll become clear.”

We stood there looking at each other in the glass, so different, yet connected in our weird way. My image became as crisp as his, as so did my nerves.

vswirl2

People won’t admit they read poetry and are moved by it…but late at night they go on the internet and search it out. It is like pornography. I’m dead serious (no pun intended). It is a need that most people will not dare admit to.

moth

“I’m a realist. You aren’t a Vampire. You have no idea what we can do to people.”

v_swirl

In big and little ways the ability to change directions and go from one extreme to another without missing a beat is what life is all about. Old and young and all of us in the middle – it is what we do. It is who we are.

vswirl2

You never know who will be there to help. You never know but sometimes it might seem like a miracle or something you won’t be able to describe. But there are those who will help – more than you think.

gothic design

I don’t really believe in fate, not much. None the less, when good things happen or bad things are avoided treasure that. Most of all you should treasure those precious folks that make up your life.

v_swirl

So what happens when she breaks up with you and you get all butt hurt and can’t stand to see her face but you know you’re going to keep running into her for the next 200 years?

images-8

Lucy,
I’m tired of being pursued by sluts like you who cheat on their boyfriends. You took me to your bed when you knew another man was in love with you. Shame on you. Tell the same to that little trollop Mina.  And tell Jonathan that Mina isn’t as innocent as she acts.
Drop dead,
Dracula

v_swirl

Three Vampires and the ghost driving into the night on our way to kill Rogue Vampires singing along with the soundtrack of Across the Universe.

vswirl2

“Souls are cheap and keeping them is expensive,” he hissed in my ear with nasty wake-the-dead breath.

 

readbyvampires

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman