Short Story Sunday: True Friends

True Friends

The scratching noise was driving him nuts.

“What do you plan on doing with them?” James leaned back in his chair and downed his wine.

“I’m not sure,” said Andrew. “I’ve never had an infestation this bad before.”

“You should just kill them. I’ll help you.”

“They’ve already ruined the rugs in the living room. Damn it James, you were with me when I purchased the Turkish Kilim. I’ve had it for eighty years. I loved that rug.”

“I know a guy who might be able to fix it. He can do wonders with blood stains.”

“It isn’t the stains. Look at the holes in it. Totally ruined.”

James stood up and walked around the rug. “I think we should kill them and dump their bodies in the bay. Or I know a guy who can do that for us.”

Andrew stood in front of the window looking out at rain coming down on his back garden. This was his home. It was his sanctuary. “I should have never opened the front door without looking first, but I thought it might be a neighbor or delivery.”

James came over and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Damn Vampire Hunters.”

Andrew signed and said. “James, why don’t you call your guys. All of your guys. I don’t want to deal with this.”

“Good idea. No need to have to change our clothes. By the way I love your sweater. Cashmere?”

“It is. Soft as my cat. Shawna gave it to me.”

“Good to see you’re finally dating someone with good taste.”

They both looked up. The scratching and muffled screams started again.

Andrew picked his keys up off of the table. “Lets go to breakfast. Solid food sounds good this morning.”

“I know what you mean. I over did it on the blood last night. Holy crap did I ever over do it. I could use some coffee. Bacon too. We have to have bacon.”

“Bacon is always good. Call your guys on the way there. I’ll leave the back door open.”

No need to explain anything else except that friends are always there for each other.  That is always a good thing. xoxoxo

 

~ end

Tangled Tales

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Dear Social Media Friends

oscar the cat

Dear Social Media Friends,

  • I am in no mood to “share” generic cause posts on FB.
  • I will not do math problems. Every answer will be zero.
  • I will not find the panda in a sea of other animals.
  • I will not type amen or respond to anything having to do with religion. Keep it to yourself.
  • I will laugh at your funny memes.
  • I will comment nicely on your pet photos or any other animal photos.
  • I will comment nicely on your posts of kids doing craft projects or online classes.
  • I will read your poetry.
  • I will listen to your music.
  • I will enjoy photos of your flowers.
  • For people on Twitter I’m pretty much done with you. What the fuck is up with follow parties? Cut it out.
  • Stop whining about being stuck at home. We’re all stuck at home. Read a book. Most of the classics are free online. Educate yourself.
  • I do not care what famous attention whores people are doing or saying during this time. Why should anyone care?
  • I will be amusing.
  • I will share amusing things.
  • I will be encouraging and try to support my friends.
  • I will continue to write about Parenting, Vampire, Ghost, and Werewolf things.
  • Stay positive
  • Keep writing, doing art, and being creative.

 

For all times on or off of the Internet:

Wash your hands.

Wear a face mask if you must go out.

Call anyone who might need extra help, is alone, or is in need. Check up on anyone who is at risk for being lonely or depression.

Stay positive.

Call your kids if they’re not with you.

Hug your kids if they are with you.

FaceTime, text, Zoom, email, call, blog, drive by and honk.

Stretch.

Laugh.

Have more coffee.

That’s all. Just venting but trying to stay positive. Even Vampires need to stay positive in weird times.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

science-facts1

 

Our First Feast

Unknown

 

“I doubt if our parents care what we do, or anything about us at this point,” my brother Val told me. It was November of 1878. I had just turned nineteen and he was twenty. They’d moved to San Francisco, leaving us behind in Sacramento. The house they’d left for us was like a rabbit warren of rooms. Our brother Aaron, aged twenty five, was married and living a mile away in his own brand new Italianate mansion. The eldest two (Max and Andy) had long moved on and were now in San Francisco setting up their glorious careers.

They’d sold the big house we’d grown up in, which burned down as soon as we’d cleared out. I often wondered about that, considering we had been a large family of Vampires and didn’t always do things the same was as everyone else. Our (mine and Val’s) house was built in 1869 with a lot of rooms with no purpose and tall stairs from the sidewalk up to the front door in case it flooded. We had a front porch, a back yard with a few rose bushes, and not much else. It was plain and un-charming.

Val and I were determined to give this house charm. We decorated our modest home with used furnishings and a lot of green and cream colored paint.

After that we decided to do what most young people would do and have a party.

“Should it be all Vampires?” I had to ask.

Val shrugged, “No. We can invite others. We will have to warn our fanged friends to keep to themselves and only drink from bottles we planned to keep well hidden in our kitchen.

I told him not to invite all ladies and he started to argue with me.

“NO,” I said. “You are not going to turn my home into your own personal whore house.”

My brother looked at me as if I’d slapped him in the face. “I would never,” he said. “Never.”

I held my shoulders back and my head high. “Valentine, I will never judge you or be like some warm blooded prude, but I expect a certain amount of modesty and decorum from you.”

“Fine. I will allow you to see my guest list, as I expect you to show me your guest list.”

“Agreed,” I said. “What about food?”

“We need food?”

“Of course we do.”

“We don’t cook. We hardly eat. We don’t have domestics.”

“We could hire a cook,” I said.

“We could.”

“Where would we find one?”

“We could put out a post. Cook wanted for fashionable party. Or we could find Constantine. He knows everyone.”

“And he is always fashionable.”

Constantine was both a Vampire and extremely fashionable but he had just jumped on a train to travel east, then take a boat to Europe to buy art. So we put up our flyer and waited. Soon a small man named Orlando George St. Cloud came to our door. He said he had cooked for the royalty of Europe, the Emperors of China, and the highest of Sacramento high society. We didn’t really believe him but we hired him on the spot.

The night of our party Mr. St. Cloud fixed:

Stewed Eel

Filet of Sturgeon with brown butter and tarragon

Curried Crawdads with spinach

Roasted Capon with creamed trout sauce

Roasted potatoes

Rat tail soup

Onion and walnut tart

Fried chicken feet with olives

Orange milk pudding

Apple pie

Fried frog legs with smoked trout and fiddle head fern sauce.

Roast beef

Head cheese

Blood pudding

Wild lettuce salad

Tomales Bay Oysters on the half shell

Fried eggs with wild mushrooms and boiled wheat berries

Pears poached in wine and honey

Toast points with river clams and fresh butter

Meatballs with wild dill made with ingredients of unknown origin. 

Marrow bones with sage and sherry sauce.

We also managed to acquire copious amounts of alcohol.

Fifty four guests arrived. Nobody went hungry. Twenty were female. Thirty four were male. Twelve, including Val and I were Vampires.

Of course the party was a success. Val did not sleep alone. I watched the sunrise with a dozen people in my garden before going inside, drawing the curtains and sleeping for the next two days. Mr. St. Cloud brought in a crew to clean and lock up.

For the next thirty years Mr. St. Cloud cooked for us when we needed it. He also taught us to cook. He told us, “One day I shall be gone and you will be at a loss.”

I learned to cook everything except the rat tail soup. I never cared for eel. Many of the dishes made me sick but I learned to cook them anyway. Eventually Val also learned to cook, and he even attended classes. We both became experts in cooking for Vampires such as us. We don’t live on blood alone.

From then on Val and I have both welcomed guests of a wide variety to our homes to celebrate friendship and love.

Wishing you all a wonderful Thanksgiving and welcome in the holiday season (which started on Halloween.)

Cheers to all,

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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Short Story Sunday: Springtime

Springtime

“A toast to springtime and love,” said Andy lifting his glass.

“To love? At least I know unicorns are real. I’m not so sure about love but, I’ll toast it with you. To love, and springtime,” said James lifting his glass and touching it to Andy’s. “I loved a woman once, but I didn’t know it. She was a Vampire of singular beauty and oddness. Nights with her were nothing but passion. We had a link between our souls where I gave and she received. Physically she gave and I received. I assumed she liked it, but then she left made a lot of bad choices. I wanted to be the only bad choice but I wasn’t. Then she told me to make a good choice and I didn’t pick her. I should have. She never contacted me. I assume that she assumed that I was with somebody else, and she would be right. But years passed, and I was with a lot of women I thought … well, I didn’t think. I never think. I really don’t care. I have fun. They have fun. But for some reason I’ve been thinking about her, and I know she knows.”

“Too late my friend,” said Andy. “It has been 112 years since you saw her. Do you really think she thinks about you?”

“No, but as long as I’m thinking about love. Actually I never think about love. But the wine is good tonight. Thanks.”

“You tried to seduce my sister once.”

“I tried to seduce your sister about a dozen times. It never worked but it was fun trying.”

“You’re going at it all wrong. James, my friend, I’ve loved a kind of love you can’t seem to understand. I’ve felt the soul of the woman I love leave her body when she died in my arms. Alas I fall for mortal women, but you…you act so uncaring, yet, you want that romance. You want perfection. You want goodness. You want something your heart can’t comprehend.”

James shrugged and opened the French doors leading to the garden. “I need some air.”

At 2:00 a.m. they could hear the song of a mocking bird in a tree down the block. They could hear the sound of a random car. They heard the quiet of a cool March evening.

“You hungry?” Andy asked, “We could order in.”

“No,” said James. “I don’t feel like it tonight. I’d rather go out, or just skip dinner altogether.”

“You’re always so crass and funny. What’s up with the somber lovelorn guy act?”

“I don’t know Andy. Maybe it’s the full moon. Maybe I’m just feeling my age.”

“Maybe you should look her up.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Nothing. Married. Children. Her husband is a big time alpha Vampire guy. No. There are others. She was just one. So I move on. But it isn’t a bad thing.”

“You’re right. It isn’t a bad thing.”

James looked up at the night sky, searching for stars that were hidden by the urban lights.

On the edge of the fence pixies in tiny gossamer dresses walked in single file, their wings folded up on their tiny backs. The whispered among each other about lost loves and fools. Then they giggled in unison as glittering dust fell on the ground below them.

Andy glanced at them, but then turned his attention back to his friend, and the conversation changed to everything but love, romance, and most of all the women they’d known, and maybe loved.

~ End

 

Note: I first posted this in March 2016. I’ll try to have a new story next week. There is a an Artistic roller skating meet today so I’m off watching amazing things.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Friends, Vampires, Fellow Bloggers…

juliettepurpledress

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Lend me your ears… Actually what I need is your voice.

In September I’ll be speaking at WordCamp Sacramento about Personal Blogging, Community Building, and Letting Your Unique Voice Shine.

Yes, that means I’ll be sharing my own stories of my blogging experiences.

The one thing that we all share is that we’re a unique bunch. We might not have 25,000 followers but we have the best followers.

Share a tiny bit of your story with me so I may share it with others who share our unique world of blogging.

Below are a few standard questions to get you going… I don’t expect anyone to answer all of them. Just one. Or just a comment not included in the questions below would be great.

  • What do you like about blogging?
  • What keeps you blogging year after year?
  • Do you have a fun start-up story?
  • Why do you follow the blogs you do?
  • What is one of your favorite blog posts?
  • How do you feel about your readers?
  • Has writing made you a better writer/artist/person/vampire/cat-owner/poet/cook/cartoonist/photographer/muser/musician/reader/observer/parent/fop-and-dandy/teacher, or anything else?
  • What have you learned from blogging?
  • What WP tools help you the most with blogging?
  • Are you having fun?
  • Anything else? I’m open for any comments about your experience blogging.

Leave any comments below in the comments box, or email me at juliettevampiremom @gmail.com

I’ll be contacting a few of you personally.

Thanks so much. I know I wouldn’t still be doing this without your support and friendship.

And thank you for not being afraid of Vampire, teenagers, or parents.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Vampire Maman

 

 

Scars

A friend of mine recently had something blow up (home repair) in his handsome face and now has a row of stitches across his forehead that would make Frankenstein’s Creature jealous.

It old him that chicks dig scars. Then another friend questioned my reasoning. Excuse me?

This is my answer:

If a guy has scars on his hands it proves that he can work on cars, or is other wise willing to get his hands dirty. There are always good stories behind scars (even you make em up.) Scars are the sign of an interesting life. Scars also prove that a man is not some pansy assed wimp who spends his life doing nothing but reading Proust, and drinking double soy fat free pumpkin spice lattes.

I’m happy to say my friend is still healthy and handsome.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman