Strange Strangers on a Full Moon Night (Werewolf Week Continues)

Werewolf Week Continues on Vampiremaman.com!

Strange Strangers on a Full Moon Night

Mars was exceptionally bright in the sky last night. The moon was less than full but still exceptionally bright.

This morning I dropped the kids off to school. Garret’s car is in the shop so mom gets to drive. Anyway, I drop them off behind some temporary classrooms (that have been there for 45 years) because Clara doesn’t want to have to walk by the large group of “Stoners” who hang out every morning at the logical drop off point. So this morning she tells me she over heard one of the Stoners saying “That woman stops and turns around every morning. Weird. I guess she doesn’t want to stay here.” They had no idea I was dropping off kids. Sigh.

So the moon, teens, clueless thoughts… what does that all lead to? It made me think of a distant memory of when my brothers Val, Aaron and I were teens.

Go back to 1873. We lived in a city that had regulairly flooded, burned down, flooded again and survived illness and lawlessness and all sorts of disasters (Sacramento of course.) It was enough to make anyone want to leave, but instead people thrived and it grew. Railroads made kings. Agriculture was starting to boom. It was a city with growing art and culture and the new capitol building was almost finished. But to us it was home and our concerns were not those of adults or even most people. We were teens, comfortable in our own skin, a little less Victorian than most our age, a little more independent than most. My brothers and I lived in a tight knit community of Vampires, part of the Modern Vampire Movement. But you already know that.

One night, under a full moon, my brothers Aaron (age 17), Valentine (age 14) and I (age 13) were taking a stroll along the Sacramento River. We were always out looking for vagrants and activity from any riverboats. We were on the prowl, three well heeled Vampire kids who could use our innocence and charm to get in and out of any situation before our prey ever knew we were there.

With our stomachs full and our dark little souls throughly amused we walked home through a grove of trees on the edge of the riverbank. There we came upon a camp. Two figures were hunched over half a dozen large fish, I believe stripers or maybe steelhead. They grunted and tore at the fish. At first glance we thought they were coyotes or large dogs, but then we realized they were something else.

“Werewolves,” whispered Aaron holding his hand out to signal us to stay still.

We watched in fascination, with a bit of disgust, as the two turned back into their human form – a young man and a young woman. They were about our age and completely naked. He was skinny, unlike my muscular brothers. His skin was pale under the moonlight like the bellies of the fish he’d just devoured. She was also thin with ribs sticking out and knobby joints. Her grayish unhealthy looking skin was covered with red welts. Long dark hair hung below her waist. But what surprised us most was the hairless tail that hung down about 6 inches on the end of her spine.

I elbowed Aaron and he gave me a quick look that said “don’t move.”

“She has a tail,” Val whispered a little too loud. Aaron put his hand over his younger brother’s mouth.

The Werewolves put on their clothes, plain and worn compared to our fashionable togs. We had a home and parents. These two were obviously strays just trying to survive their miserable condition.

Val and I wanted to approach the Werewolves but Aaron was against it. He said we should just let them be and they’d be dead more sooner than later. There was a prominent pack of well-heeled Werewolves in town but we had little to do with them and it was obvious that these strays were not part of their pack.

Occasionally my parents would deal with the Werewolves, but always held them at a distance and with considerable contempt. One thing that stood out about the well to do Werewolves was their fondness for velvet. No kidding. Those Werewolves loved their velvet.

This isn’t going to be a moral story where we went back and helped the young Werewolves. We went back and they were gone. None of our friends had ever seen them. We told our parents about them. In turn they mentioned the strays to the pack leader in town and he had never heard of the young Werewolves.

It was just one of those weird things. Ships that pass in the night.

I asked my friend Adam, who is a Werewolf, about the pair when I stopped by his studio this morning (he is a photographer by trade.) He’d never heard of them. The tail on the girl turned out to be something extremely rare, just like a tail on anyone who is remotely human like.

“Why didn’t you help them?” Of course he had to ask.

“I don’t know. We were just kids. We thought they were dangerous. Beside that, maybe they didn’t need or want help. My parents asked around. Nobody knew anything, or if they did they weren’t telling us about it. I’m talking both Werewolves and Vampires. Nobody knew anything.”

I knew there would be nothing online about them but I after I left Adam I checked anyway. There was nothing.

This story has no moral or reason behind it. Just a story of something that happened a long time ago that I’ll tell my kids about and maybe they can find a moral in it.

It might be a mystery forever. But I have a knack for finding people and things so you never know. You never know about anything, not really.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

This was first posted in 2014.

 

Werewolf Moon

Werewolf Moon

Parenting: Nothing is By Accident

Today is my daughter’s 18th Birthday. I am no longer the mother of minor children.

I can’t even express the love I feel for my children – it is too much to put into words.

My daughter is one of the most wonderful and amazing beings I have ever met. Part of me knows it was just because of her DNA and whatever star dust she has in her soul. And some of it is her dad and me.

As a parenting blogger, once more I’ll let you in on my parenting philosophy. Nothing is by accident. I parent deliberately. I parent positively. I parent with love.

First rule – and more or less only rule: Don’t just talk at your kids. Engage your children. Make it a two-way conversation.

If you have one of those pesky and annoying tots who asks, “WHY?” all the time, I know it is tempting to drop them off at Grandma’s house forever or feed them to Goblins, but turn it around and ask, “why do you think? Let’s figure this out.” Then again if it gets really bad tell the child to just cut it out.

We cut the tantrums out of our life early. It was never acceptable. Period. I put them on the couch and told them NEVER AGAIN. The only tantrums that should be in your home are Fritz and the Tantrums.

You can fill your kid’s head with visions of God and Hell. You can yell at them. You can threaten them. You can take stuff away. What worked with us? When there was bad behavior at our house, or stupid behavior we discussed the long term social impact of such behavior. If you act stupid everyone will think you’re stupid. If you do stupid things everyone will think badly of you FOREVER because a reputation is a hard thing to get back once you’ve lost it.

Reputation was a long and difficult talk, but as a parent, you have to do it.

Always keep the lines of communication open with your children. Don’t judge until you’ve listened to them. Also let them know that it is alright to speak up and speak the truth. Often children (more often than not) will tell adults what they think the adult wants to hear. You have to dig to get to the truth. If you keep the lines of communication open then kids will talk. Tell them that it is OK to tell the truth.

Spend time with your kids. That doesn’t mean somebody has to stay home full time. I know a lot of working parents who spend a lot more time, and better time, with their kids than a lot of stay at home parents. Don’t even get me started on this argument that can never be won by either side. It isn’t a contest. Every family is different so get over it.

Anyway, spend good quality time with your kids. Engage with them. Talk with them. Teach them things you love, and in turn let them teach YOU things.

Things to do with your children:

Dance

  • Sing
  • Read
  • Talk
  • Discuss
  • Explore
  • Discover
  • Hug
  • Love
  • Love
  • Love
  • Protect
  • Laugh (do this about a hundred times)
  • Be silly
  • Share
  • Listen
  • Love

How hard is that? Get out of your comfort zone. You’ll thank me for it later. Maybe even sooner than later.

And remember, this is for regular folks too – not just Vampires.

Wow. It has been a wonderful and amazing love filled adventure – and this isn’t the end of it. They might be grown but they’re still my babies – always.

xoxxoox

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

No matter where you are, you’re somewhere.

I find myself frequently returning to the theme “You might not be where you wanted to be, but maybe you’re where you should be.”

Yes, I’m the first to admit that I do not believe in the whole predestination school of thought. The first time I heard about it was in a Presbyterian church while my brother Val and I were hidden in the rafters ease dropping, something we frequently did when we were children. My brother took it seriously for about 5 minutes. I didn’t make any sense to me at all. I couldn’t see our existence as one huge “Damned if we do, damned if we don’t” ordeal. It just didn’t make any sense. I was a child who lived by the rule of free will. I was also, and still am, a rule follower which shouldn’t make any sense but that is another blog post.

Anyway, early on I also started to get my romantic streak. That was a good thing and a bad thing. I saw the world as a big romantic adventure. Not so much romance with a man, but the notion that there was beauty in everything and the world was bound to just keep getting better. I knew I’d grow up to live a life surrounded by roses and parties and lovely times because THAT was my destiny.

I’d spend hours looking at books with beautiful pictures and reading lovely fairy stories. But at the same time I was drawn to anything to do with disasters, ghosts, murders and ghoulish things of all sorts (go figure.)

When I grew up things changed. The lovely order of the rose gardens and adventures hiding out in places my brothers and I shouldn’t have been, turned over to real life. There were a lot of adventures both good and bad. There were dangerous and foolish adventures. Nobody had ever told me of the disappointments and heart-break and frustration of the adult world. I flew through life until… all the frustrating weirdness led to my husband and that led to my kids. Now it seems like everything is all falling into place. I feel as if this was meant to be. Of course in all of the alternate and parallel universe places I also frequent it could have been different. I think of that a lot too. OK not that much, but when I write i have to get ideas from somewhere. Why not get them from my own dusty brain drawers?

So no matter where you are, you’re somewhere. When I was a child I knew I could be anywhere. I’m finally realizing that I was right.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

vm darling girl

 

Additional information: Along these lines I found myself answering to a writing prompt on The Matticus Kingdom (a blog you should follow). As usual I wrote about a man who found himself not with the woman he imagined being with but with the woman he should have been with (and it was a good thing.) I keep doing that when I write. Life it like that. So is fiction. Go figure. http://thematticuskingdom.wordpress.com/2014/07/22/prompt-finish-the-story/

Also, you might like this story about time travel and Vampires and my family. It kind of sort of goes with this theme. Go to the link for Cockroaches of the Space Time Continuum. https://vampiremaman.com/2014/04/03/cockroaches-of-the-space-time-continuum/

This post was inspired by a prompt. Then again, everything is kind of a prompt – the prompt of life… HA HA HA

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/adult-visions/

 

 

I dream of books I cannot read

flying pages

I dream of books I cannot read.

I dream of blank pages.

I dream of leather wing back chairs, a book, a G&T and bliss.

Books are always an interesting subject – all kinds – old, new, electronic, paper, fiction, nonfiction…some people lust after books. I have, over certain volumes and bindings.

I almost always have a book (or my Nook) in my purse or car or with me…

My house is filled with books with walls of shelves…thousands of books of all ages, all genres, all kinds…mostly fiction and art but there are ALL kinds.

It is a comfort and makes me feel at home. It is a passion that defines who I am. BUT…

But in defense of all of those kids who are spending their time socializing…and playing…and doing other things…things other than reading…

I grew up in a house full of books that I couldn’t read. I couldn’t read. After a while I could read a little bit but it wasn’t easy.

I’d look at novels for youths that my elder siblings would read but I couldn’t read them. I’d open them up and there would be too many words. I’d pretend to read them (that lasted all of half a second but I did it often.)

 I looked at the pictures and I’d draw. Drawing was my reading. I’d make up my own stories.

I’d play dress up and have grand adventures on my own, outside. I was never bored.

My mother read to us. My father made up wild stories with songs to go along with them. So I could say I knew the stories. I just didn’t read, at least not well.

One day a week my mother would take me to a tutor who would attempt to teach me to read and spell. The child I was could never concentrate. I’d be quiet and polite. I’d longingly look at the large world map on the wall and my young brain would travel the world by boat and horse and train. I could read the map, just not a large book. Maps would take me where I wanted to go.

I would write poetry because it was short. But the words in the books still were like great walls of a castle with walls I could never scale. But I don’t think I really cared because I figured it was my lot in life and I didn’t know any better and nobody ever explained anything to me about life and consequences. I just knew that when I was caught doing something bad I’d get into trouble so I learned not to get caught. Reading was another thing.

Then it kicked in, when I was about 11. My brain finally figured out what those words on the page said.  Long words now made sense. Sort of. It didn’t happen over night. Then the goal was to make up for lost time. Sort of.  It wasn’t easy. Now reading is second nature and a joy, but it was once a foreign uncomfortable experience.

And I had a strong desire for others to think I was smart (oh the folly of youth.)

I did, through no planning, became the most read member of my family.

My kids read but they’re extremely picky about what they read. So they don’t always read books unless it is a school assignment. Sometime they do, but not as much as I expected they would.

When they were small we spent a lot of time in the library, in book stores, and reading at home. We read and read and read. Well, I read to them a lot. I wanted them to be prolific readers.

They’re good readers. They’re smart. They’re scary smart. But they aren’t avid readers – at least not of books. But that’s ok.

The thing is… my children are a lot smarter than I ever was. They’re more worldly, independent and mature. They make good choices. They make better choices than I ever made at their age. They think about things. They talk about everything and discuss and figure things out. They keep up with the news and the big wide world. That isn’t completely a matter of chance.

I’m a firm believer that we all think a little differently. Our brains, our hearts, and our souls are all bound together. Our brains are a base of our being with layers of experiences bringing richness or bitterness or sweetness and insights. Or we can see those layers of experience as tools we have at our disposal to help us deal with those brains we’re born with.

As parents, as friends, as lovers we can give those in our lives more layers of richness and wonder. Give no burlap or thorns, we all get enough of that on our own out in the big wide world.

Books are like that too.

If there isn’t a book around I find myself reading labels or anything with words on it. If there are no words I make up stories in my head. And if someone else is there then they can tell me their stories.

When I dream I see books but the pages are always blank. When there are words in my dreams I can’t read them. Street signs are mysterious and undecipherable. It is a strange and frustrating world in my dreams.

And oh please, don’t go there…I don’t have any learning disorders. I just had other things on my mind like pictures and maps and everything I could see and hear. I loved books with a passion but reading came later, just in time.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

books

And to get into the holiday mood and READING check out my latest book Tinsel Tales and anthology from the WPaD group (the best Christmas stories since The Christmas Carol)  Click here for: My books.

Plus Creepies (Horror), Dragons and Dreams (Fantasy), Passion’s Prisms (Romance) and Nocturnal Desires (Erotica). All under my various pen names.