At my darkened door

A high piercing noise,

Like a rhythm from Satin’s orchestra,

Drums out a beat,

On my darkened glass door.

What demon comes in from the night,

With glowing eyes,

And teeth like razors,

Born to kill,

And tear flesh from bone.

I turn and see,

Nothing more,




Sad eyes,

An angel,

Asking to,

Be let in.

And held,

In a warm embrace.




~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman


Musings in the Land of Enchantment

Rough hot winds

Wrap around

My neck

And then

I close my eyes and


Go Away

Leave me be

I have not time

For you

I have no time for pain.


The music plays

A steady beat

As I watch the dancers

And peace wraps

Around me

Because I know

Love and passion

Is not only in

The bedroom.


The light on the mountains

Makes shadows


Without words

Without a reason

Because it just is

Here in the desert

In the Land of Enchantment.


Sometimes there is too much

Then we remember there is night

And friendship

With common bonds

And all is right.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Short Story Sunday: 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 but the Warriors are winning. 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 the rest of the game 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… 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


Fallen Angel Dore

A story from ~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Nothing is that mysterious – not even Shadow People (or go away I need my mom time)

Today I was in my car, in the parking lot at the high school waiting for my daughter Clara.

I was thinking about the time last year when one of the kids in Geography gave a presentation and stated  “Oprah is popular in Italy.” It makes me laugh out loud every single time. Opera. It is opera that is so popular in Italy.

I know that this afternoon and tonight I will hear more amazing stories of school. Yes, every single night is like a stand up comedy routine with my daughter telling her dad and I about school.

School will be out in five minutes so I take a minute to read from “All the Light We Cannot See.” It was a book I didn’t think I’d like because it is written in the present tense but I love it. The words are so beautiful and the characters are so real. If you want to be transported to another time and place, get off of my blog, get off the Internet, find a quiet place and read this book.

So I’m sitting in my car, windows down, a slight warm breeze brushes my cool face and I catch a shape in the corner of my eyes. Damn it. There they are, two guys in suits. I know them. The proverbial men in black or whatever one wants to call these goons from some undisclosed secret agency. The asshole squad (as they’re officially called by Vampires and Werewolves.)

One is wearing the black suit. The other has removed his jacket and has the starched white shirt with the black tie. At least the Vampire Hunters I know don’t stick to the stereotypes like these guys do (at least the professionals who don’t bother my kind.)

Anyway they approach the car. One leans on the door at the open window. Last time they dropped by to see me they wanted to know about Zombies.

“I’m not your reference librarian,” I say to them.

“Who’s your friend?” The one who asks is called Johnson. I think his first name is Tom.

I was in the car alone, so I thought but I looked over and saw Nigel, the ghost sitting in the front passenger seat. He smiled sweetly, looking as solid and physical as can be.

“Nigel Pierce,” said the ghost to the annoying over dressed men.

“Like the artist?” The man asked with a slight sarcastic hint in his voice,

“Just like that.” said Nigel oh so cheerfully. Yes, just like the artist.

The man in the jacket pulled out a photo and showed it to me.


“Do you know this man Juliette?”

Of course I knew him. “What do you need to know?”

“He is a Vampire, like you.”

“And your point is?”

“Shadow people.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding?” That was Nigel. The Ghost said that.

I glared at Nigel. One does not show expression or give any information to men in black suits.

“Do you know something?” That was the one called Johnson.

Nigel leaned forward and brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “Don’t mess with them man. They’re total creepers and psychopaths.”

“Have you communicated with them?”

“Not if I can help it. They’re the trash of the paranormal world.”


“Not even. Ghosts my ass. They’re nothing like Ghosts. Shadow People are… they’re like those weird kids in high school who think they’re really smart and creep around trying to look up girl’s skirts and suck up snot instead of using tissues. They’re sick. They’re straight up from Hell as far as I’m concerned. Nothing but a bunch of assholes.”

“What about the man in the hat?” That was Johnson again. All across the world people see shadows of a man a fedora (look up Coast-to-Coast and Art Bell if you don’t know about shadow people.)

“He’s a nothing but a pretender. Don’t waste your time.” Nigel turned to me. “Sorry Juliette, I didn’t know you’d have company. I gotta go. Hey, one more thing. Did you know I went to high school here. I did. HA. Things haven’t changed much.” And he vanished, as ghosts do in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The men looked surprised. OK they looked shocked.

I took a deep breath and explained it all. “Nigel is a ghost. Get over it. And no, I’m not going to give you any information about him.”

“Nigel Pierce died in 1986,” said the other guy, his name is Booth. Cameron Booth. He doesn’t know that I know his first name.

“That explains the ghost part,” said Johnson.

Huh. Before today I never knew Nigel’s last name.

“Tell us about the man in the photo and where we can find him,” said Booth.

“I’m here to pick up my daughter. The fact that I’m a Vampire gives you no right to harass me.” At that point I turned my eyes dark and send a cold dark fear right to their bones. Yes, I can do that when I’m really pissed off.

I would have had a nice conversation with them about the Vampire in the photo and Shadow People and Ghosts but I didn’t really feel like it right then. I was off the clock for the weekend. It can’t be Halloween ALL the time. Jeeze.

The point of this story isn’t about Shadow People or Ghosts or Men from mysterious agencies. It is about being a mom. Friday afternoon is time I spend with my daughter. It is OUR TIME. The time I wait in the car for my daughter is MY TIME. I don’t want to be bothered. I don’t want to be questioned about things I don’t even like. I don’t want to have to make decisions. I’ve earned my few moments alone. I’ve earned my time with my child. I’ve earned the right not to be treated like a freak because I’m not like everybody else.

When Clara and I got home there were a dozen turkeys in our front yard. Did I question their existence? Did I wonder why their motivation was? Did I bother them? No. Of course not. I get it. Three Turkey Mamans out with their brood of nine skinny necked adolescent turkey babies. They don’t want to be bothered either.

Don’t bother me when I’m with my child… or with my Ghost.

Have a good weekend everyone. Make sure you take time to relax, unwind and get some me-time in for yourself. You’ll thank me for it later.

I sent Johnson a text on his personal phone and told him to have fun at his daughter’s play. She was going to be Amy in “Charlie’s Aunt” at her High School. Of course he had no idea I had his number. He has no idea about a lot of things but even the men of mystery have to get real. We all need to get real.

Right now I’m at my usual Friday spot in a dark table in a roller rink while Clara practices team dance with her partner. It is my time. Tomorrow I’ll be booked with other people, but now it is just me, my laptop and you.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman