My Own Vampire Maman

She walked into the crowded bar as if she owned the place. I waved. She flashed me a dazzling smile and walked my way.

Black jeans, a dusty plum-colored coat over a white dress shirt she borrowed from her man, buttons open to give a hint of a promise of something soft and lace covered, the most darling gray boots with buckles and heels, a gray and blue scarf, and a black messenger bag with a tiny gold bat pin attached to it. Her nails are covered in glossy gray varnish as perfect as perfect can be, set off  a perfect dark fire opal on her right hand. Loose dark brown chestnut colored ringlets cascading down her back. Perfect smoky eyes as gray as a winter sky shot with blue and a slight hint of pink lip-gloss on cupid kissed lips. She could be somewhere between 25 and 35 but it doesn’t matter. She is perfect. Every male head in the place turns. My mom just walked into the room.

She walked to the bar where I sat nursing a gin and tonic. She didn’t need to pull up a stool – four were immediately offered to her. She grabbed one a few places down and sat it next to me. Her arm went around my waist and squeezed. All was right in the world. Mom was here.

She still calls me her baby. I still call her my Maman.

She picks something off of my sweater. She liked my hair. My nail color made my hands look dirty. Was Teddy home. Was Clara at class tonight? I looked tired. Was I getting enough sleep? Was I spending all my time catering to my children? Was I working on my novels? Was I planning my winter and spring gardens?

My dad with at my brother Aaron’s house. It was a big girl night out.

She scanned the room and said, “we won’t go out hungry tonight.”

No we wouldn’t.

I put my hands in my lap, then decided to ignore her comment about my nail color. I liked the color even though I doubt if I’d wear it again.

We spoke quietly, our heads together. A man asked if we were sisters. My mom said we were.

He was in his early thirties. Blonde hair, green eyes, button down shirt. Cute bordering on handsome. My mom is 388 years old.

She whispered something in his ear and put her hand on his shoulder. He smiled. He was hers for the night if she wanted him. That isn’t what she said to him, but she can make anyone feel good. She said there was a girl in the bar who liked him, the pretty girl who is never the prettiest in the room and never the one who gets picked first. The girl was smart and funny and sexy and a little different. He’d pick her tonight and in a few months time he’d pick her forever. My maman has a talent for facilitating happily ever after events. How Vampires got the bad rap I’ll never know (actually I do but that’s another blog post) but we’re quite the romantics and lovers.

Her wedding ring was on a cord around her neck, hidden under her shirt. It was funny considering we spent most of the evening talking about my dad. She said she wanted to spend the week with my daughter.

She said she’d planted the pansies I’d given her.  Hers were doing great but mine were still smallish. I told her that was because she loved her plants more than mine. She laughed.  She had some bulbs in the car for me. I told her that I’d give them lots of love.

We were like any other mother and daughter meeting in the evening. Except we were out for blood. But that’s ok with us.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Clarification (or Hairification)

My husband Teddy has dark brown hair. His eyes are brown but he can change them to blue when he wants to.

Vlad the Vampire King, of Vlad’s Vampire Diary, is blonde with blue eyes. It is a honey blonde, not the pale blonde like the Ancient Vampire Tellias.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Mama

What the F is wrong with some people (dealing with loud coworkers and others)

In most popular Vampire fiction a great deal is made of biting, specifically “the bite.”

When I write about warm blooded folks do I concentrate on their eating habits. I should. I’m surprised nobody has made a movie about someone attacking their coworkers who sit in the adjoining cubicle (or desk) all day gnashing, smacking, loudly crunching, and slurping food ALL DAY LONG. That does not include the unnecessary scraping of a food container with food long after there is nothing left. It does not include the rattling of wrappers. It does not include the overwhelming aromas of tuna or egg salad that make you want to vomit. The loud bite after bite into the apple a day leads to a headache for you that lasts all day long. THAT my friends is a true horror story. Day after day after day after day of noises that make you want to SCREAM before your head explodes.

But of course in popular culture a Vampire is considered far more glamorous than the average cubicle worker. Sure there are some of those Vampires who let blood drip down their chins and make horrible noises, but seriously, we teach our new Vampires, and our children NOT to behave like that – ever.

Anyway, I guess I should end now. The morning is too young, and my day too busy to go into the types of bites one may get from a Vampire – from quick, to lingering on the erotic.

I don’t know what to do about the coworker situation. It all depends on your company culture. You could go to HR (like they’re going to do anything.) You could go to your boss (who won’t do anything.) Or you could write that script to a horror movie and start a new career.

No matter who you are, always be considerate to others. Teach that to your children. Teach it to your employees. Teach it to your spouse. Teach it to yourself.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/bite/

Listen, and never discount a Vampire who wants to share art with you.

Some people do things oh so frustratingly slow, or weird, or just make me feel like nobody is listening (and I know they aren’t.)

On Thanksgiving I showed my great great great great Grandmama Lola a book to look at. It was an art book. I wanted her to see the artwork. So what does she do? She opens the cover and looks at the first page. Then she slowly turns the next three pages of publisher information. The she gets to the preface – you know those long introductions to art books that NOBODY reads, especially when someone wants you to look at some PICTURES. After she was into the first 15 pages, slowly turning them and not really reading them, wondering why I’d given her this book with so much text, I took the book. Then I opened it up to the start of the 175 pages that were in FULL COLOR of magnificent artwork.

She then slowly turned the pages, looking at all of the art, then proclaimed there were too many religious paintings. Did I mention this book was about Italian Renaissance art? It was.

I said nothing and put the book back on the shelf. My moment sharing Raphael and Michelangelo fell flat.

The whole week seemed to go like that. I was all but invisible wherever I went. Even among friends I was just there. My husband was there, but I was just a shadow most of the time. A few times I managed to make myself known before I was unseen again. Until a few nights ago when I finally found myself around kindred spirits.

When I was a child I was the quiet one. I would sit in corners, or curled in a large chair, and watch, and listen, and remember, and think about what the adults said. I always knew what everyone had done. I knew things children were not supposed to understand.  I also spent a lot of time with books, looking at pictures. I never get tired of art, be it a painting in a museum, or an illustration in a book. It could be an angel, or a landscape, or a diagram the ocean currents. Every image has a story, or a feeling, or something that came out of the head, the hands, the eyes, and the heart of someone else.

Lola is ancient, born in the Middle Ages, but she isn’t feeble minded, or out of touch. She just does things in a different way than I do. It is still damned annoying.

I was out with her recently and she insisted on lingering over her prey, excuse me, a donor. I clenched my fists, then quietly told her that we needed to get in and then get out fast. Unless you’re in a safe situation where you can linger comfortably for hours, you need to get what you need and get out. But noooooo, not Lola. She never listens to me, or any of my concerns. I swear I’m surprised she has lasted as long as she has. And yes, this is a Vampire blog. Why else would I be talking about what Lola does.

Anyway, don’t get between me and my art. Don’t make me feel unsafe or unwanted. And if you don’t listen to me, that is fine. I hear everything, and remember everything. And I still love you, for the most part.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

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Short Story Sunday: Heal Thyself (an Austin and Elizabeth Story)

It wasn’t just a cold. It was a body full of aches, gallons of snot, a cough, sneezing, and a sore throat, and an urge to text everyone he knew and tell them that he was never coming back.

Austin heard a tap on the door, then he knew someone was inside.

“Hey, sweetie. I brought you some soup, and tea,” a female voice said at the bottom of the stairs.

Austin couldn’t bring himself out of bed. “Elizabeth. Come upstairs.”

She put the soup in the kitchen and went up to see Austin. He’d all but missed Thanksgiving. It was Sunday afternoon. School started Monday morning.

He’d missed her. They’d hardly been seeing each other. He was teaching, working on his house renovations, and working on the side as a Vampire Hunter.

She had her own business and busy schedule, and she was a Vampire.

It worked. Sort of. He trusted her, most of the time. She didn’t trust him, or at least he didn’t think so. But they were trying.

When Elizabeth arrived in Austin’s bedroom she sat next to him and put a cool hand on his head.

“That feels great,” he whispered.

She kissed his forehead, slipped off her clothes, and crawled into bed with him. He fell asleep wrapped in a warm blanket and a cool Vampire.

Several hours later he woke up feeling  great. Elizabeth lay next to him, as quiet as death.

The only thing that hurt was his neck. He saw blood on the pillow. Just a drop but it was enough to know what had happened. She drank his blood. She actually drank her blood. Damn her. 

Austin put his hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Wake up. Now.”

She opened her eyes and smiled. “Do you feel better?”

“You bit me. You drank my blood.”

“Yes, I did drink your blood. I did not ask for permission. I just did it. Austin I am a Vampire, and sometimes I do things like that. There is no excuse but I had to.”

“What about Vampire guys? Do you drink their blood?”

“No. I don’t make it a habit. And I’m not seeing any Vampire guys. Just you.”

“So just…”

“You don’t get it do you.”

“No, I don’t”

“You need to get your blood tested. I think it is called a PSA test. It is for prostate cancer. Oh yeah, and please, when you get a chance thank me for taking your nasty cold from you. I felt like shit, death warmed over shit, for about two hours while you slept. I don’t know why you didn’t get a flu shot. I’m not doing this for the flu.”

“PSA test. You can tell if someone has cancer?”

“Sure, sometimes.”

“Do I have cancer?”

“It isn’t like your levels are extra high, but you’re almost forty and there might be something there. You can’t put it off Austin. If you have it the early treatment is uncomfortable but waiting for it to grow and metastasize is horrible. It will be a slow and extremely painful death, and horrible for everyone you love to see you go through it. A few radioactive pellets put in the right place and you’re good to go. And Mr. Happy will stay happy. Done deal.”

“How?”

“What?”

“How did you take on my flu? How do you know about my PSA levels?”

“I don’t know. It’s just something I do.”

“If you can heal like that then why aren’t you working in a hospital. Why isn’t every Vampire working in a hospital or medical research?”

“We don’t all heal like that, or at least not all the time. It takes a lot out of us.”

“Can all of you do that?”

“I guess, in varying degrees. I don’t know. Some of us, are better at it, especially if it is someone we care about, or love.”

“But…”

“Stop. You could tell I was a Vampire. You can see ghosts. Not every can do that, or wants to. I can heal and see potential threats. Not everyone can or wants to do that.”

“Elizabeth, do you realize…”

“Yes, I do. Enough.” She put a finger to his lips. “Enough.”

Later that day, after she’d left, Austin could only feel how wrong it was, and how right. No matter what he was grateful to have a clear nose, and a clear head. Well, maybe a clear head. And more than that, maybe a clear heart as well.

~ end

For the entire Austin and Elizabeth Series (The Hunter) CLICK here. Start from the beginning. This is the 20th story in the series.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

The Beach House

My brother Val and I had gone to the beach house for Thanksgiving. This was 1944, before my marriage or children, when it seemed it was always just my brother and me, plus assorted friends and lovers.

Our brother Andy (Andrew) was somewhere in Europe in a USO show. Our eldest brother Max and my future husband Teddy were in London doing something secret for the American Government. Our parents were in Washington DC.

Nobody knew where our brother Aaron or his wife Verity were. They were the traditional ones who always stayed on the safe predictable road to anywhere – now we had no idea where they were. The last time anyone heard they were in France, but they could have been anywhere. They could have been dead or worse captured but we stopped guessing.

Valentine and I had our fill the night before in San Francisco. The clubs were full of servicemen on leave and women who were tired of waiting for their men to come home and people who had nothing to do with the war or missing love ones. Val was also on leave from his position in the Army – watching and finding out secrets. Vampires are good for that. Almost too good. But we had to get involved. We had no other choice. This was the world we lived in and our country too. It was our home.

We watched the fog roll in as the sun went down over the Pacific Ocean.

A car drove up to the house. We weren’t expecting anyone.

It was Nathaniel Chase. Even back then he was over 400 years old but didn’t look a day over 35. A small black cat followed at his heels.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in San Francisco,” he growled without so much as a hello to us.

“We’re not supposed to be anywhere, at least not until after Christmas,” said Val.

“I thought you were in Canada, or Hawaii or someplace…,” I started in on him until he put his hand up for me to shut up. I knew the gesture well. He’d been cutting me off my entire life.

“Valentine, please get my bag out of the car for me. Juliette I need your help, come.” He headed down the hall to the far bedroom.

Under his coat his shirt was soaked with blood. I couldn’t tell if it was his or if it belonged to somebody else.

I helped him out of his coat and then the suit jacket and shirt underneath. He’d been stabbed several times. “My heart…was nicked. I’ve lost a lot of blood…a lot.”

I held out my wrist. “Take mine. It will seal your heart.”

“I don’t know…Juliette…”

“You’ll die.”

“No. You can bring someone in later.”

“You will die. Take mine. Regular blood won’t help. You know that.”

A regular human man would have died with his injury. He’d been stabbed in the heart, not just a “nick.”

He took my wrist and sank his fangs into it. Not much happened.

“Just take my neck,” I told him and started to unbutton my shirt. “Don’t say no. You’ve done more for me than I can count. I owe you.”

Asking another Vampire to bite your neck is extreme. It is also something that happens in risky sex. It is something you don’t do lightly or with just anyone. There can be consequences.

I put my hand on his chest where the knife entered. Then I leaned in close, cold skin to cold skin and put my other hand at the back of his neck. “Take my blood Nathaniel.”

He pushed my hair aside and put his mouth on my neck. He had my blood and my feelings, my memories, my heart and everything I kept close. I could feel him searching and wanting then blanking it all out. He wasn’t interested in sucking out my souls or knowing my secrets or being my lover.  I’d done this before but it wasn’t to save a life. It was to satisfy a lover, another Vampire in passion and …whatever. But this was intense and in that realm. I felt drained. I was drained literally.

Nathaniel pulled away and lay back on the pillows. His eyes were closed. He took my hand and entwined my finger in his. We sat for maybe an hour as still as death. I brushed my lips against his cheek. He opened his eyes and gave me a slight smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

Over the years he’d always been the one to save Val and me. So many times we’d strayed and he was there to get us back on track. He was always there to scold us and keep us in line. So many times I resented his presence and wished he’d go away forever.

I went out to the deck where Val sat with a bottle of wine and a cigar. He looked at my neck. “I gave him blood. Nothing else.”

My brother gave me a hug. “Thank you dear. Listen, the couple down the road are having a party. We can head on over and get you settled again. If Nathaniel needs more tonight we’ll have it.”

So we walked half a mile down the road watching the stars and listening to the waves crashing against the beach. I told Val that I knew who injured Nathaniel but it was taken care of. We were not the ones to extract vengeance. Someone else would do that. It isn’t what Val and I usually do, unless forced of course.

Nathaniel stayed with us for the rest of the month. We spent Christmas having a fire on the beach, just the three of us and Nathaniel’s black cat. Val and I were 85 and 86 at the time but Nathaniel still saw us as silly teens, or at least he saw us as still needing guidance.

Eventually we were all reunited with family and friends.

Anyway, that was a long time ago. It was a time I rarely even think about anymore. Now that my own children enter adulthood I think of more things from my current life. I hope their lives are calm and without trauma. That won’t be the case, but I’d like to think it would be.

So that is it for right now. December is almost here. Today my daughter Clara and I will hang the Christmas wreath and once again wish for Peace on Earth. I doubt if it will ever happen but we can wish and we can each do our part to help.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

First published 2014 – new posts to come soon. Thank you for visiting and sharing my  memories.

 

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