Short Story Sunday: Fallen

Fallen

“Oh man, I wish we could turn into bats like in the movies. That would make things a lot easier.”

Max leaned against the kitchen counter listening to his friend Pierce. It had been a rough night for the hunters of shadows – the Vampires who were dedicated to keeping their world safe for both Vampires and those they lived among.

“Do you think she’ll be alright? I didn’t say anything in the car. You know how sensitive she is.”

Max poured himself another glass of wine. “She’ll be fine, eventually. I’ve seen her through worse. Mehitabel has seen herself through worse.”

“Mehitabel won’t tell you if anything is wrong. Come on Max, she took on…” Peirce paused.

“A fallen angel. Sure, and some people call us fallen angels. They have no idea. We’re just physically different. The fallen angels are pure evil.”

“So is the poison that entered our friend, your lover.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Bullshit Max. That is total and complete bullshit.”

The sound of the shower upstairs turned off. Max put down his glass and went to check on his friend.

Mehitabel sat on his bed, her hair dark and wet around her shoulders. She wore one of his robes, a burgundy colored brushed silk.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he said stepping close putting his hand on her cool cheek.

“Not good. Sort of weird, like someone broke my heart, but I don’t know how or why or who. It wasn’t him.”

Max started to pull the robe open.

“Not tonight Max. Please I don’t want to have sex with you or anyone right now, alright.”

“Mehitabel, I don’t want to… I… just let me look.” He pulled open the robe to see the large gash going from the top of her left shoulder down her arm almost to her elbow. The ugly wound had sealed but it was far from being healed. She winced as he touched it. An ugly blackness outlined the edges of the tear.

He put his hand over the wound. At first she tried to pull away but as he whispered words in an ancient language of their people the pain started to leave her arm. Then he bent over and kissed her shoulder. The blackness turned to a pale red. “I came to give, not to take.”

Tears filled her eyes as she lay back on the bed. Max lay next to her and put his arms around her. “Sleep. It is the best thing you can do. I’ll be up later. Nothing can hurt you here, not while Pierce and I are with you.”

Downstairs Pierce had turned on the TV. “Giants lost today. How is she?”

“Not good. I’m going to sleep with her tonight. Just sleep and be there.”

Max and Pierce stayed up to watch ESPN to get their minds off of the past 48 hours.

Mehitabel lay in bed, her fangs ready as she looked out at the creature standing on the window ledge. “You cannot hurt me here. You cannot have me.”

It looked like a man, but she could see the flicker of the forked tail in the dark and the fold of leathery wings above his shoulders.

He smiled an angelic smile of pure bliss and beauty, then mouthed the words, “You’re mine. You. Are. Mine.”

At the sound of the door opening the dark being vanished. Max crawled under the covers bedside her. “Just because, just because we’re the way we are, and because I can’t give you… it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

She didn’t respond. She was too busy watching and waiting as she looked into the darkness outside the window.

~ End

Short Story Sunday: Being Real (An Austin and Elizabeth Story)

“Not once have I missed my old way of life.”

In the early morning light, at a small table by the window, in the neighborhood coffee shop, Elizabeth listened to her friend. She guessed she could call him a friend. They’d known each other for over a hundred years. He was still wearing a dark formal suit, his cashmere coat and silk scarf folded on a chair next to him. She was wearing jeans, with a pink sweater over a button up white shirt. He could pass for a Vampire. She could pass for just another pretty girl having coffee with a handsome but weird friend.

“Where were you last night Sebastian?”

He smiled a lovely Vampire smile with only a hint of fang for his friend. “Nowhere and everywhere. I was headed for a party and ended up with a flat tire in a dark alley that smelled like urine and garbage. I found myself at the doorstep of a club featuring a jazz band. They were improvising. The way they were dressed, and the way they acted reminded me of the clubs in France. You know, the ones that were part of the resistance, sort of zoot suits and crazy dancing. They were young, mostly white with some East Asians, a few black kids, a beautiful Mexican girl dressed like Freda Kahlo…you aren’t listening to a word I’ve said.”

Elizabeth looked him straight in the eye. “It was a diverse group. We live in a diverse city. Benjamin was part of that group in France after the German’s came in, no before they came in. Remember? God, you two were tight. What happened to him?”

“He was captured and put to death. Actually he killed himself before he let them, the Nazis, touch him and send him off for experiments and… I miss him. I thought Bernadette would die when she heard. I didn’t see her for years after. She joined a group of hunters. It wasn’t like her, but sometimes one must go beyond their comfort zones.”

“Where is she now?”

“London. She owns an art gallery specializing in Degenerate Art. She called it Benjamin’s Lush Gallery. An odd name but it works. She is really happy. I’m happy for her.”

“I’m happy for her too, but now I feel sad. Poor Ben.”

“You always feel sad. You should come out with me. Be a real Vampire again. It will do you a world of good.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Sounds like fun. Maybe later this week if you’re open. Love you Sebbie. I have to go.” She kissed him on his cold smooth cheek and started to leave. Sebastian grabbed her hand.

“Are you still with your lover?”

“No. He wants to be with me but…,” Elizabeth started but Sebastian cut her off.

“No buts. It doesn’t matter that he is not a Vampire. If he loves you, then rejoice in your time together. He knows who and what you are.”

“No Sebastian, you don’t understand.”

“Elizabeth, he brought your smile back.”

She kissed him again and dropped his hand, then left without turning back.

Walking through the neighborhood she wished she had a dog. Maybe she’d go to the shelter on Tuesday, or look on Craigslist for a dog. She kept so calm and cool for so long. It was difficult to keep so much control for such a long time. Now she lived in a world of normal people with warm blood, and short lives. Everything made her sad, or maybe it was just that nothing made her happy.

She arrived at her front door and checked her watch. It was 7:34 a.m. Early but not too early. Sitting on her front porch step she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Before she could hang up he answered.

“Elizabeth,” he said, as if surprised. Of course he was surprised. She hadn’t talked to him in months.

“Hi, Austin.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

“I love you Austin. I love you so much, and so true, and with my entire unbeating heart.”

“Are you home?”

“Yes. I’m home. Come over.”

“I’ll be over in 45 minutes. I love you.”

“Don’t be late.”

She put the phone in her pocket and sat for a bit. The neighbor’s orange cat Hector came by and rubbed against her legs. Small birds shuttled around in the trees. Elizabeth rubbed the cat’s head and went inside.

Going into the kitchen she went to the refrigerator and poured a tall glass of blood and downed it. Then she rinsed her mouth out and waited for Austin, and for her undead life to start.

~ end

For all of the continuing Austin and Elizabeth series CLICK HERE. 

Tangled Tales

 

 

 

Monsters In Love

Love posts for Valentine’s Day

Vampire Maman

Halloween Love Letters

While taking clothes out of the dryer I found a crisp folded piece of notepaper with a note, written with a red Sharpie.

Dear Garrett,
I don’t think you understand how you tear my heart apart. You don’t do anything. You just are. You drive me crazy. You act so cool and I know how you put on a mask. Everyday is Halloween for you.  Stop being so afraid of being yourself. I love you – you idiot.
Ione

Sigh. Seventeen year old Garrett has been writing love letters to girls since he was six years old.  Now girls are writing them to him too. He has known Ione almost his entire life but they just started dating last Spring. If they make it as a couple or not, I’m sure they’ll always be friends – I have a feeling they will (they’re both Vampires.)  So I…

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Short Story Sunday: I’ll Take Care of You

The headache was real. He opened his eyes and squinted at the sun coming through the window and tried to remember what had happened the night before.

“Oh you’re up. Look at the sunlight. Tell me how you feel.”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Do you feel alive?”

He looked at her sitting in a navy blue wingback chair wearing nothing but a smile and black silk stockings held up by red garters. He thought of her as a girl, not from her age but by the way she acted. She had been cute for a while but the cuteness became annoying and practiced.

He got out of bed and looked for his robe. She watched him with a smile on her face that was part wonder and part greed. Memories started to come back. Against his better judgement he’d taken her home and to his bed. Then she’d poured something she said was wine, but it obviously wasn’t.

“What did we drink last night?”

“What did you drink Andrew darling. I gave you an elixir to life. I gave you a tonic of love. I gave you light and love?”

He didn’t even respond. The sooner he got her out of his house and made coffee the better. Finding his robe he headed to the kitchen.

“Do you feel different?” She got up and followed him down the stairs.

“Other than feeling like shit?”

“Today is your new birthday. You’re mortal again.”

It suddenly occurred that she’d given him some sort of potion. “Jen, I can’t be cured. There was nothing wrong with me.”

“You were a Vampire.”

“I’m still a Vampire.”

“You’re walking in the sunlight. See it comes through the windows and you aren’t burning.”

“I’ve always been able to walk in the sunlight. Whatever you gave me didn’t work. It never works anymore than me giving you something that would turn you into a dog.”

“Give me a chance and I’ll take care of you Andrew,” she said clutching at his arms.

He pried off her hands and whispered under his breath, “Yes, and I’ll make sure to take care of you.”

Escorting her to the door, the Vampire told her to not come back – but he knew she’d try. Jen never took no for an answer. He compared her to a bad rash, that is if he’d ever had a bad rash.

Nobody would believe her tall tales of dating a Vampire. She was a groupie, a fan, a follower who didn’t know how to be an adult or find real love. It wasn’t like he always knew how to find real love, but at least he wasn’t going to let anyone change him for it.

Picking up the phone he made a call. “You know, I really don’t have the stomach for killing her right now. Any suggestions?”

His friend paused on the other end of the line then said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her.”

After getting off the phone Andrew made a blood and strawberry smoothie hoping it would clear out some of the toxic effects of whatever the Hell Jen had given him.

Jen told everyone her family had always been around Vampires, kind of sort of, but she’d just discovered her ability to pick them out about 10 years ago. She’d clamped onto Andrew about a year back after seeing him sing with one of her favorite bands at a local club. She’d spotted him and found out all of the details about his life through mutual friends. Her immaturity was charming at first and kind of cute but now it just grated on Andrew. He ran his hands through his hair and wondered why he’d brought her home last night. Oh right, blood and sex. That always does it.

Then again, Jen thought life should be a cross between a Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie and Twilight. Holy crap. The woman was delusional.

Jen sat alone in her San Francisco apartment and thought about her beautiful Vampire lover. Giggling at the thought of his cool skin and hot kisses and wonderful techniques as a lover. He knew all the tricks. She imagined living with him in his beautiful St. Francis Woods home.

Last night she’d offered him not just her body but her blood as well. Last of all she offered her heart. As far as she was concerned that was a sealed deal. She was part of him now. He’d never get rid of her.

A year passed and Andrew had all but forgotten about that night with Jen. Occasionally one of his friends would bring up the story of the toxic brew and laugh about it.

“Don’t laugh, it could have ruined my voice,” Andrew would tell them half serious and half joking.

“What ever happened to her?” They would always ask. Andrew would just shrug.

A hundred miles away, locked in a room with no sharp objects Jen sat rocking on the bed speaking of her Vampire lover and how he’d return for her. Andrew said something under his breath about taking care of her. So she waited not knowing that he already taken care of her, quite nicely.

 

~ End

 

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Vampire Diary: Dye Vampire Dye

Dear Diary,

I heard a knock upon my door. I was not expecting a visitor.

Upon my threshold stood my neighbor, the teenager Kylee. In her hand was a large padded envelope. She smiled.

Then she spoke in her odd way, as if all statements are questions. “This was in our mailbox. Vampire King? You’re too cute to be a vampire.” She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

On the envelope was written, Vlad, Vampire King. Then the address of my home. The sender had the sanity not to write Vlad’s Castle or other such outdated nonsense.

“It is an endearment,” I said as I took the envelope.

“I was thinking more of maybe a Cosplay thing.”

I just smiled slightly to be polite and not seem ignorant. I do not know what this Cosplay thing is.

How can one be too cute to be Vampire King? I still do not understand this cute. Cute can mean power because all living humans are drawn to cute. Living humans are drawn to me as well through my seductive powers as a vampire but I do not understand why being such as a baby or kitten would make women think of me.

“Too cute?” I asked the girl. “How is one too cute?”

She laughed in that unapologetic way teenage girls of this century laugh. “You’re all honey blonde, and that dimple is adorable.”

Adorable. Now the Vampire King is adorable. I am constantly confused by these people.

The girl Kylee laughed out loud again and left to her own home.

I need blood. And aspirin.

~ Vlad

 

———————-

 

Dear Diary,

I will not dye my hair black to become a serious vampire. The thought crossed my mind for a brief second. Maybe an hour or two. What is wrong with me? I used to rule an empire and now my biggest concern is Clairol or L’Oreal.  I will remain cute, along with my cats.

~ Vlad

 

——————————

 

Dear Diary,

I looked up the definition of adorable.

a·dor·a·ble
əˈdôrəb(ə)l/
adjective
inspiring great affection; delightful; charming.
“she looked just adorable”
synonyms: cute, lovable, appealing, charming, cuddly, sweet, enchanting, bewitching, captivating, engaging, endearing, dear, darling, delightful, lovely, beautiful, attractive, gorgeous, winsome, winning, fetching.

I can accept captivating, attractive, gorgeous, and enchanting. Those descriptions are true of me. I can accept beautiful. I may even be fetching, though I do not know if fetching can apply to one who is male. I am not winsome or cuddly. I am sexually appealing. No woman, or man if I wish, could resist my seduction, but I am not cuddly. Cuddly. No. This English language and these people make my head spin. If I had more blood in my body I would be on the floor with the brain whirling sickness.

I opened the envelope marked Vampire King and reviewed the contents once again. I have reviewed these contents many times over the past two days. I think of what Kylee said to me.

Cosplay. First I thought it was a band of musicians but that would be Coldplay. I do not know what that means, but it is not the same thing as Cosplay. I heard them sing their songs when I turned on the radio in my car. It was not to, how do they say, to my taste.

Then I thought of Cosplay. I asked my lover Gillian who is as old as I am but has lived longer in this modern world in which I have found myself. It is when grown people dress up like imaginary people, but it is not a masquerade or the holiday they call Halloween. I do not understand why they do this. Why would a person dress as something they are not?

Then I looked at the contents of the envelope again.

Inside was a note, along with a handkerchief of old silk which was falling apart to the touch. The lace edges were as delicate as morning spider webs, or the hair of an infant. A once red stain turned brown was on the corner. The letter V was embroidered on the corner.  That was once mine, a little over three hundred years ago. It was taken from me in the year 1715.

In the envelope was also a lock of hair, honey gold, tied with a black silk ribbon. It was mine, taken from my head. Unlike men of warm blood, most Vampires refused to wear wigs. I only wore my own hair, long and curled around my shoulders and down my back. I had the blood of others but I would not have their hair. Maybe one might call that cute, but I do not think so.

The note was rude and unclear.

 

Vlad, Vampire King,
We know where you are. Beware. You shall not rule again.
from, The Unknown Forces

 

This letter is what the teenage girl Kylee and her teenage friends would call bull-crap. Kylee would have said, “what a douche.”

The Unknown Forces. Who are these bull-crap douches? How dare they take my dirty laundry and hair and send it to me in an envelope. How dare they send veiled threats to me.

I no longer have my castle or army, but I have cats, and I have access to the power of teenagers, and I am cute.

~ Vlad

 


 

Dear Diary,

Those who send the envelope will be found. Those who sent the envelope will be taken care of. Or perhaps I will make them wait. I will not react. I will not do what they expect. I will not be a prisoner of their veiled threats.

With the moonlight through the window Gillian runs her hand through my golden hair. I gently push her onto the pillows and kiss her lips, flushed red with fresh blood in her veins and my attentions.

I have no worries this night. Tonight I do not miss being Vampire King, for I am glad to have Gillian capture my heart and keep me prisoner of her love.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Click here for all of Vlad’s Vampire Diary entries.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Short Story Sunday: Another Nasty Little Sick and Twisted Vampire Romance

Some of you have seen this before but it is already over 100 degrees F (f_ing hot) outside and my brain is fried, so enjoy. First published her in 2013. ~ Juliette

 

A Man Should Have What He Wants

A house full of books and the ghosts of what could have been.

What can be. Oliver Thomas thought as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He never let himself get close to those he visited over the years. It was easy to become detached just as one could be detached to an apple or a head of lettuce.

She slept quietly. On the nightstand were books, earrings, a clock set for 5:00 a.m., and her glasses. Her husband was snoring and slept in another room. Her children were tucked into their dreams. Oliver made sure of that. They’d all be asleep.

Oliver Thomas kept coming back to her. She was different, by her own accord. Chloe had always been different – the type who saw the world in visions and possibilities. Someone who overcame obstacles. If she grew to be old she’d be a sweet eccentric with her window boxes full of exotic flowers and vast knowledge of the obscure and unusual.

She had a hard time making friends due to her shyness and reluctance to follow up. Her fear of rejection paralyzed her in some areas of her life. Most of life was paralyzing but she seemed to thrive and succeed.

Yet, the woman could light up a room with her wit and charm. She was a success despite her low opinion of herself.

But he’d fallen in love with her in a strange way that someone falls in love with an idea of perfection and the ideal person to share life’s adventures with.

Her teenage kids still hung all over her like toddlers, leaning on her even now. They were taller than she was, dressed in their black band shirts with trendy long hair and black painted nails. Oliver had seen Chloe once, her son with his lanky arm around her shoulder, her daughter with an arm around her waist. How many women, he wondered, envied her for the closeness she had with her children.

If it wasn’t for her children she might have checked out and left the world a long time ago. Since childhood Chloe had been uncomfortable with life and the tremendous effort it took for her to live with herself and her failures.

Oliver saw that Chloe had failed to see her success, except with her children. He didn’t want to think of her marriage with Craig. It worked better than most. In fact, for the most part, her marriage to Craig was an uncommon success.

Craig, the handsome and successful husband, was the love of her life. Even in her dreams Chloe couldn’t cheat on Craig. They’d built a life together. For her that was enough. More than enough she told herself.

But Oliver knew it wasn’t enough. Chloe found her life in others but kept her secret soul and passions locked up, bound in shadows and secrets.

At one time, Oliver and Chloe had been lovers. The memory of her warm skin, her lips on his own, her hands in his hair and her passion haunted him. He’d come and gone from her life assuming she’d always be there.

Now he was only with her in the dream world of the night. She’d remember him in another time and place in long lost memories of centuries past. She’d think she’d had a life in another time with him, a past life of possibilities and promise and passion.

An unlikely candidate this middle aged working mom, too tired and busy to think of herself except when she let her imagination fly as she commuted to school and work in her car each morning, or when she dozed off at night in her own secret places.

The passions were still in her, as it had been when she was young. How could that be? He kissed her then buried his face into her neck and when he’d had enough of her he silently left her with dreams of passion and desire.

The following evening Oliver looked up from his desk and there she was, standing in the doorway. Black dress, apple green sweater, black heels. The blue Coach bag, a 50th birthday present from her husband was slung over her shoulder. She looked she owned the world, but she still didn’t think she was beautiful.

How did she find me here? I never told her where I live?

“Chloe.” He said her name as if in a dream.

“Don’t Chloe me Oliver. I want you to leave me alone.”

He stood and approached her with his hands held out. “It was always the wrong time or place for us.”

She stepped back ignoring his open arms. “Don’t even start with me Oliver. It would have never worked. You always said I was too independent. Then you turned around and called me needy.”

“I never said any of those things.” He was shocked by her accusations.

“You didn’t have to say it. You made it obvious you were thinking it.”

He didn’t respond. This wasn’t the time for the witty dialog they’d shared in the past, the long talks through the night or the sweet lover’s words.

“Chloe, you can’t stand there before me and say that with a straight face.”

She looked at the floor then looked up straight into his eyes. “You never told me you loved me.”

“I didn’t have to.”

“Bull shit. You just expected me to hang around and wait for you to come in and out of my life. It got old Oliver. But it doesn’t matter. I’m married to a man who loves me the way I am. I’m successful, happy and I love my life.”

“I doubt if Craig realizes what a fortunate man he is.”

“He knows.”

“Did you ever tell him about me?” Oliver took a step forward. Chloe folded her arms as if to shut him out.

“I haven’t told anyone about you. They’d all think I was nuts. Just like my Aunt Margaret when she talked about her Vampire.”

“You still love me Chloe.” Oliver said those words quietly with such passion that almost no woman would be able to resist. No woman except Chloe.

She turned and left, slamming the door behind her.

Oliver watched from the window as she got in her car and drove away. The slightest hint of regret surged through his dark thoughts. He’d never meet another who captured his heart and his passions like she had. He’d never meet anyone who made him laugh or feel the joy of being like Chloe had.

Oliver heard the steps behind him but didn’t turn around. A warm hand caressed his shoulder.

“Is she gone?” The speaker was obviously annoyed.

“Yes.”

“Does she have any idea I’m here?”

“No.”

Craig looked out the window. “Good. Where do we go from here?”

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

“My son is an Emo freak who acts in plays and writes poetry for fun. My daughter won’t talk to anyone unless it’s a text. My wife is never going to lose the baby fat or stop telling stupid jokes or snoring or complaining how hard she works. This wasn’t what I signed up for.”

“I understand.”

“Just for once I want what I want. I don’t want to go home to a woman who is tired all the time and can’t even comprehend my needs.”

“What about your children? You must care about them on some level.”

“They’ll be fine without me. Chloe will have two million dollars in life insurance to get the kids through college. There’s another 10 million in assets she can sell off if she has to. She’ll make sure her children have wonderful memories of me.”

“The news of your death will break her heart.”

Craig scowled at Oliver. “Chloe is already so miserable she won’t even notice. She’ll be happy to be the unfortunate widow and bask in the glow of her own sorrow. I’m doing her a favor by dying rather than divorcing her.”

“And your girlfriends?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re whores who think they can get ahead by sleeping with the CEO. They’ll both get their pink slips next week. So now what?”

Oliver went back around to his desk and sat in the antique leather chair. “Your car will be found in the river and it will be assumed your body was washed away with the currents. Your wallet and a few clothing items will be found washed up on a beach. It will be assumed that you died.”

“So when do I change?”

“Change?”

“When do I become like you? A Vampire.” Craig asked this impatiently almost sounding like a spoilt teen.

Oliver took a deep breath and answered him. “Tonight if you want, but I’d rather wait until tomorrow.”

Craig leaned on the desk close to the Vampire. “I want this Oliver. I want my freedom.”

“You’ll get what you want Craig.”

“Oliver, I’m telling you…”

Craig started to speak but Oliver held up his hand. “We’ll take my jet to Rome in the morning. By the time we get there you’ll be a different man. The old Craig will be gone forever. In the meantime, you need to see your children one last time.”

Chloe sat in the high school auditorium waiting for the play to start. A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Her son played Lysander.

Craig had called earlier to tell her he was working late. He’d been sorry to miss the play but said he’d see it on closing night next weekend. She thought she was going to throw up. She pulled out her phone and listened to the message she’d received right after she’d seen Oliver.

A sing song girlish voice said “Chloe this is Trinity, Craig’s assistant. I wanted to let you know that I’ve been sleeping with your husband for about two years. He asked me to do all those crazy nasty fetish things you wouldn’t do and I would do anything for him. I really really loved him and would have done anything at all for him but he dumped me for Tara Hall. She’s like the VP of Marketing. They’ve been doing it since October so he was two timing on me too. Stupid puke. So when he says he is gone on business he’s really with her. I just thought you’d want to know because you seem like a nice lady.”

It was the fifth time she’d listened to it. Each time she’d hoped she’d heard it wrong but that wasn’t the case.

A text came in from Craig saying he had a change of plans and was on his way.

Concentrate. Don’t think about him. It isn’t true. He’ll be here any minute. Don’t cry.

The house lights went down and the play started.

Oliver Thomas stood on the side of the river and watched the emergency crews on the opposite shore drag out a sliver convertible, the headless body of the driver still strapped in the seat. Some unfortunate member of the police department would find sightless eyes attached to a severed head staring up at him from the floor of the passenger seat.

Witnesses said the car had suddenly gone out of control, like the driver was trying to avoid hitting something. The convertible rolled and went into the water. It had been too dark to get any useful details.

Craig wanted to be free of his wife and children. A man should have what he wants after all.

Now Oliver would do it right. He’d wait a few months, he had time and he’d be there for Chloe and her children, like he should have been all along.

 

~ End

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

(first posted April 2013)

 

Tangled Tales