Metaphysical musings and a visit from the ghost…or what creeps out a vampire part 348.

This afternoon as I drove to pick Clara up from school I passed the tattoo shop where last year a man beat his wife to death with a baseball bat. I can’t get the image of the police tape and the morgue van out of my head.

One of the two main streets in our neck of the woods is an unfortunate but interesting blend of auto repair shops, bars, an abundance of tattoo parlors, small restaurants, a newspaper, pizza places, recycle shacks, self storage, fishing supply stores and a dive rock and roll bar and of course a Wal-Mart. In the early mornings the recycle guys are out picking cans and bottles. The homeless people are waking up. The donut shops are opening. The area is semi rural still so there are a lot of places to set up a hobo camp. Most of them are mentally ill. I have no idea where they came from. Back behind it all are nice neighborhoods that don’t have anything to do with the main street, or at least pretend not to. Or we just laugh about it and call it “character.” A little WT character if you ask me. Oh well.

Someone once described this small stretch of road to me as “quaint” and “small town.” It is the next community over where the shops are nicer and the violent crime rate is higher. Go figure. 

I’m not in a “I hate people” mood today, because despite the rampant ignorance and violence and hate in most parts of the world most people here are OK. I have to admit that I’m in sort of a blah mood but not an “I hate fill-in-the-blank” mood.

My Friday lunch date had to cancel on me today. I always look forward to my Friday lunch dates, as you well know. Anyway, I settled on the owner of a metaphysical book store. We first chatted about the amazing new releases. i smiled and never uttered a word that I think it is all New Age bull shit. Then again he had no idea that one of his favorite customers is a 154 year old Vampire. Oh well. So lunch was type O+ with a hint of local marijuana that I could have done without. But the guy is a sweetheart and my go-to source when I don’t really feel like a hard core hunt. The energy is always weird for me. I feel like a creeper when I go see my crystal singing friend. He is so sweet and I’m not sharing his vibe.

But on a good note,  if he suspects anything he won’t bring out his baseball bat. I know, I know, I know that was in bad taste.

I stopped in front of the school and texted a few friends with invitations. This weekend, this long weekend, I just want to spend with my own kind. I want to get out of the heat and the blinding light of summer. I want to sleep all day.

Clara had a good week, it was low key. There were a few rants about high school both about the other kids and the teachers. We listened. She talked. Her brother took her out for hunt to make her feel better. Teens don’t always want to go out with their parents when it comes to hunts. I don’t blame them, as long as I know where they are.

Wait… excuse me for a minute…

I felt a cold blast of air and looked to see two ice blue eyes and a shock of black hair falling across the left one. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and sat across from me. One never knows when a ghost will show up.

“You know, you ought not to write such glum posts,” he said with a serious look that turned into a snarky smile.

I sat up and rolled my shoulders. “It has been a long day Nigel and I’m not sure I’m even going to post this.”

“You know, Juliette, Vampire, sometimes I feel as if I am centuries older than you are.”

I am exactly a century older than the ghost.

“Do you need something Nigel?” I caught his eyes in mine, but without the effect I have on Regular Humans.

“I’m a ghost. i don’t need anything. But you need sleep and a maybe a vacation. Or… What did you do for lunch today? You’re always happy after your Friday lunch dates.”

I told him out the metaphysical guy and the scent of sandalwood candles and pot and wind chimes and some sort of weird wooden flute music playing in the background. I told him how it made me want to crawl out of my skin into the darkest place I could find.

He laughed.

I had to smile. “Some things dear ghost are even weird for a Vampire.”

We sat looking each other in the eye with some unspoken language between those who live in the shadows. Then I had an idea.

“Nigel,” I said, “Halloween will be here soon, help me with ideas.”

” I’ll come as a dead guy.” Then he laughed and vanished into thin wisp of cold smoke as blue as his eyes.


Have a good long weekend everyone,

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman






It was just a thing



Pleasant Van Dusen.

For no reason at all I was thinking about a part of my life that I don’t share with my children or husband – my past life – my very distant past life.

Nobody needs to know my entire history with Pleasant. He was in and out of my life for years in a whirl of passion and adventure that didn’t involve my husband or anyone I associate with now.

It wasn’t a good thing or a bad thing, being with Pleasant. There was some of both. It was just a thing.

I think of dark nights with the sound of silk against silk, back in the day of corsets and hair piled high with jeweled combs. A time of secrets and hunts until the sun came up, then sleep with dreams of doing it all again.

He swept me up in a wave of passion that neither one of us could handle. What started with the stupid ignorance of youth turned bad, then it turned to dust.

I was snapped out of my thoughts with sounds from downstairs of my family. More memories of a different kind of passion with my husband Teddy. What I have with him is something based on reality, but not without that fire that never seems to burn out, fueled with both passion and trust and a bond of partnership that lasts forever. And what I have with Teddy is love. Real love.

But we all have our past lives and our different selves. The scary thing is that I know my children will also start to create their pasts and different selves. They’ll invent and reinvent themselves over and over and over before they settle down on who they really are.

I hope their choices are smart and that their voices stay loud and clear and true. Change isn’t a bad thing. Neither is exploration or odd dark paths without a obvious light at the end. But I don’t want them to ever flounder or drift in an out of control boat only to crash somewhere and have to drag themselves out of the mud. It will happen. That is the nature of life.

I’ve spent the past 18 years teaching my children to make wise choices. So far so good.

I thought of the was Pleasant would run his fangs across my wrists and then look up at me and… well, that is not a story for today or any other day. We all have our secrets to keep to ourselves.

No regrets because memories are just that – moments of the past. Remember but stay in the present, because as all Vampires know, the present can last for a very long time.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Businessmen, Handsome Gen X



What we’re talking about: Hell in a Hand Basket Edition

Well, now that the entire world is going to Hell in a hand basket there is no sense even bothering to blog anymore. I’ll just sit around and feel bad for future generations, that is, if there are future generations.

Alright, now that I have everyone in a good mood…

What are we taking about today?

School sucks. I thought this year had started out ok. Now the 15 year old is into her third week of school she thinks it is a big waste of time. I kind of have to sort of agree from how she describes the classes. A lot of it is the other students and their lack of interest. The good news is that according to my daughter most of the kids at her school would be safe from a zombie attack due the absence of brains.

She said she wasn’t learning anything. Then she went on for almost 90 minutes about Greek philosophers, Spanish language use of formal vs. informal, and all about kids she was meeting.

There is a boy from the Ukraine who is here as an exchange student, living with a cousin. He loves it here but is worried about his parents who are quite politically active. He told the other kids (15 year olds) about tanks driving through his town. They were all pissed off because the one pizza place in town was destroyed. That wasn’t the biggest concern but… sometimes it is easier to find something to make light of when the situation is grim. I’m glad the boy is here and that he has so many students and new friends to rally around him.

The three-day weekend is coming up. We’re not going anywhere for Labor Day. The crowds on three-day weekends are so bad that we stay home and visit with friends. I plan on sleeping. I’m about 250 hours behind. Large quantities of coffee are no longer working. Humor is no longer working.

I’ve finally replaced my “not so smart phone” with a phone that works. So now I can check your comments to my blog on my phone. I’m happy.

Despite the news, good things are happening every single day.

The eldest, not yet off to college, is in that strange place between boyhood and manhood. It makes me smile to see him painting or playing his guitar. He has always been the one who has been quick to smile and easy going. He’ll do great no matter what he’ll end up doing. I worry about him getting his heart broken, but he will and no doubt it will be good for him in the long run. If not, he’ll get over it.

He will soon be on his own but he has a strong support system. We talk a lot about it. No specifics, just general stuff. It is all good at this point. I just hope that in October I don’t start getting reports of “I hate college.” In fact I’m thinking that maybe the younger one should just skip high school and go directly to the University. OK maybe not.

As for life in the shadows…

Cody and Lola stopped by last night. We haven’t seen him for a while. Cody, as you might recall, has only been a Vampire for a few years. He comes from the high tech industries of the Silicone Valley. He was a young hip guy who unrepentantly became a Vampire (sounds simple but it wasn’t and isn’t, long story.)

My young Vampire friend is currently wooing Lola who just happens to be my great great great grandmamma. She was born the same year as Geoffrey Chaucer. Cody was born the same year as…Sharika and Gerard Way. Cody looks more or less his age (and will continue to look that age.) Lola looks younger, mid 20’s.

Somehow this unlikely couple makes it work. My eldest brother Max is totally against it and freaked out. I told him he was being a jerk, but as the youngest in the family he never listens to me. I also have called him a sexist pig from time to time but that falls on deaf ears (usually.) It might just be that he is over protective of Lola, but it is more that he was Lola’s favorite little baby boy and now she is in love, real love and Max can’t handle it. Asshole.

I’ve been calling Max an asshole a lot lately. No, I haven’t blogged much about it. I haven’t blogged much about my family at all lately. It makes my head feel like it is about to explode.

Yes, we all have siblings who drive us crazy. If not siblings some other family member will step up for the job.

Well, so much for family drama.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. This year I want to go all out with decorations and entertaining. We shall see… I will keep you posted. At least the festivities on this blog will be BIG.

Yes, the world is going to Hell in a hand basket, but not all of it. Let’s all work hard to keep the good things good.

That’s all for today.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman (who is just rambling today but I get to do that occasionally because I’m sort of good at it, kind of.)



A little French lesson

The French word “maman,” meaning “mother,” is pronounced “MA-moh.” The second syllable is rather nasal and the final “n” is silent.

I say this because “people” frequently say to me “I read your post on Vampire MahMAN.” Why would I call my blog Vampire MahMAN? Really? That sounds horrible.

So why DO I call the blog Vampire Maman, rather than say, Vampire Mom? Vampire Mom sounds sort of like a cartoon or a joke.

As I was setting up the blog I overhear my daughter talking to one of her French friends. Ah ha. I had a blog name. Plus almost everything sounds good in French.

So remember, silent n. Or you can just call me Vampire Mom or Juliette.



~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman



Vampire Maman (look I drew something, a tattoo, now leave me alone)

Short Story Sunday: Slut

College is starting soon. One of the big things everyone is talking about is sexual assault on campus or in college towns. I’ve talked about it with my two kids who are in college. Everyone has, at least everyone who is a decent parent.

So I get this call from Hodge Williams. Yes, that Hodge Williams. Everyone remembers him.

“Bart, how are you?” As soon as he spoke I wondered what he wanted.

“Hodge. Fine. Great. Life is good. What’s up?”

“I’m writing a story on the history of sexual harassment and violence at universities in the US. I tried to contact your sister but she wouldn’t return my calls.”


“Yes, Beth. She kind of got around so I was thinking she might have experienced first hand, you know, she was at risk.”

“What do you mean by at risk?”

“Oh come on, your sister was a slut. Everyone knew it.”

I sat there with the phone a bit stunned. He just called my sister a slut.

“Hodge, you’re an asshole. In fact you’ve always been an asshole.” I hung up the phone. What an asshole.

After sitting for a few minutes and collecting my thoughts I called my sister and told her about the conversation.

“What an asshole,” she said. “Sure I was sleeping with his best friend without the benefit of being his best friend’s official girlfriend. OK I also slept with another one of his friends but we were in college. We were young.”

“Did you ever sleep with Hodge?”

“No. Hell no. He was always making passes at me and grabbing me. Hodges had that Madonna/Whore things going on in his head. A girl was either a virgin until marriage or a whore. Plus we’re not like him, you know the religion thing, so he just assumed I was a whore.”

“But you didn’t have sex with him.”

“I know. That makes me a whore. He called any girl who wouldn’t have sex with him a whore.”

“What an asshole.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. I mean, if the guy had asked me to go see a movie or go for a walk or just spent time talking that would have been different but he was just all over me like…yuck. He really called you? I can’t believe he’d have the gall to do that. Asshole.”

After we got off the phone with the promise of a lunch date later in the week I got to thinking about my own kids.

I’d spoken with both my daughter and son about sexual predators. I’ve done the best to teach them not to be bully bait. I’ve taught them to stand up for themselves and for others.

From experience I knew that bullies never grow up and most don’t change. 

Hodge never got the answer he wanted. Over the years Beth had a few close calls with sexual predators but she always ended up safe either by being with friends or using physical force to get out of it (exactly twice as she told me.) That didn’t include unwanted advances by guys like Hodge. And even though Hodge didn’t use force it still hurt emotionally that he’d think so little of her or of any girl.

I wanted to pound the crap out of him. Then I thought about how many other women out there who thought the guy was an asshole. That made me smile. Spread the word ladies, spread the word.

That evening after work I talked to my wife about it. She shook her head and said she’d had similar experiences. More anger surged through my brain, then sadness deep in my soul.

We all judge others. We all make assumptions. We all call names even if it isn’t out loud. We all talk behind the backs of others. Maybe we need to stop. It isn’t easy. It isn’t even practical.

Anyway, if you see Hodge Williams call him and an asshole and tell him that Beth and Bart say hello.

vm girl in woods

Goin’ Extinct: Tales From the Edge of Oblivion

From my good friend The Masked Mujer:

Goin’ Extinct: Tales From the Edge of Oblivion

A group of writers, poets, and deviants joined together to bring to you some amazing post-apocalypse poetry and short stories.

The stories are exciting, creative and imaginative. I’m very proud to be included with these great authors and creators of worlds.

I write my short stories under my real name, Diana Garcia.

Here are some funny memes fellow author of, “Skeet Beechams’s Confessions from the End of the World,” (in anthology) and dear friend, J. Harrison Kemp, made which really cracked me up: As usual, this charity anthology benefits MS charities. Please help by buying these anthologies. Your support is greatly appreciated! ENJOY!Click Image below for Amazon Kindle LinkFor paperback:***





Paperback edition coming soon!Learn more about WPaD’s charity anthologies at: http://wpad.weebly.comView original

via Goin’ Extinct: Tales From the Edge of Oblivion.

This also features work from Marla Todd and Juliette Kings (writer and editor of West Coast Review and