From the City that Nevsky Sleeps

A Guest Post From My Dearest Vampire Friend Amelia

It was a Friday night in the city that never sleeps. No, not New York. Las Vegas. Land of glitter and sleaze, neon and nightclubs; where we’d just as soon blow up our old buildings than redecorate. Viva Las Vegas! It was early June 2011 and my friend had come for a much needed visit. For me. Juliette is kind that way. I get sad, she comes and visits. I’m not nearly as good a friend. But then it’s me that gets tired of the grind of life. Or rather death. Maybe I should look into a different line of work. Life as a contract worker for several dystopian bureaucrats takes its toll, eventually. Believe me. Everything you’ve seen in the movies about being someone whose job it is to terminate others with extreme prejudice? Make it 1,000 times more boring and 1,000 times more deadly. Even a vampire can get tired of slogging through the grind of tracking a difficult hit and then dealing with the gore when it doesn’t go quite as planned. Juliette understands I have my moments after a particularly difficult job. She always seems to have her head on straight. But she’s willing to blow off steam, hence her volunteering to come cheer me up and our subsequent trip down to The Strip.

I steered Juliette through the casino floor bar at the Cosmopolitan, up the steps to the private cocktail lounge on the third level of the Chandelier. The first floor is to die for beautiful and best for people watching but it was getting late and the normal Friday night crowd could pack it in. The second floor, just as lovely, is very small in my opinion and a little two conspicuous for two vampire lovelies looking for a nip. “White Russian or black Russian?”

“Black. You know I like my brunettes…” she answered with a laugh. I love Juliette’s laugh. It always makes me smile and God He knows, I need to smile more often.

“Just so you know, I’ve lined up a few delicious ex-pats I found on InterNations. Goodness, they’re eager to meet up. Oh, by the way, how is your Russian? I told them you were born in Warsaw to a Czech mother after she was raped by Soviet soldier during the Prague Spring invasion. But the father later repented and came back for you and your mother. You immigrated to California when you were four.”

“OH MY GOSH, you didn’t! You’re incorrigible, Amelia!” Again, that laugh.”No. I didn’t. I told them you’re a descendent of Alexander Nevsky and were willing to sell a few holy indulgences for their forgiven sins.”

“Not very likely on any count. Nevsky was a saint. No descendents. I’m not a Catholic priest so I pretty sure I’m not in a category to forgive any sort of sin and NEWSFLASH: indulgences haven’t been for sale for several centuries. Where HAVE you been hiding out?” She linked her arm in mine as she finished climbing the steps. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll promise them something I’m sure we’ll all enjoy,” she added with a wicked smile and just a hint of fang. Now it was my turn to laugh.

“Добрый вечер, Анатолий Викторович. This is my friend Juliette,” I paused at the top of the stairs, greeting our first event for the evening.

~ Amelia

 

 

Thank you so much dear Amelia for this wonderful and flattering post. Now I laugh.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Now it is time for cocktails:

White Russian

2 parts Vodka

1 part Kahula

1 part heavy cream or half & half

Pour over ice, stir, enjoy.

 

Black Russian

2 parts Vodka

1 part Kahula

1 part heavy cream or half & half

Pour over ice, stir, enjoy. Add a cherry on top if you’re feeling extra festive.

Enjoy. Cheers!

 

Cheers!

Cheers!

6 thoughts on “From the City that Nevsky Sleeps

  1. What a fun post. Great recipes. Amazing movie clip! They don’t make movies like that anymore, do they? Can you imagine being an extra in that one? The sheer number of people, costumes, horses! Nowadays they just CGI it all.

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