Short Story Sunday: The Bully

The Bully

Sunday mornings on the deck with coffee, a cat purring in my lap, a dog at my feet and my beautiful family still asleep upstairs equals something good. It is all good.

Of course it wasn’t always that way. I think of my kids. I’ve done a lot to make sure they’re strong and secure. I make sure they’re not open to con artists and bullies. I made sure that they learned to stand up for the weak and those who are different.

So why am I musing on such lofty parenting goals? It is because their witty, confident, successful and good looking dad was once the kid who went to school in fear each day because of bullies. Nobody thought anything of bullies back then, when I was a kid. It was part of the school culture. But you know, even as a kid I knew it was wrong and one day it would be over.

It was over for me by the time I was 13. I went to high school and reinvented myself into a funny smart semi-popular kid.

My mind went back to fifth grade – in particular to one kid. Ronnie Martin was the personification of a bully. He was Goofus in Highlights Magazine. He was a sadistic little shit who never let down on reminding me that I was smaller and weaker than he was. Ronnie amassed an army of schoolyard thugs up against me. I was taunted, tripped, lied about, and shunned by other kids. I never knew why his one goal in life was to make my life a living Hell.

Once we got to high school nobody would put us with his bullshit. He faded into the background of kids nobody sees. I was free.

So what brought these memories back on a beautiful Sunday morning?

Last Friday on the way home my 15 year old son and I stopped by the hardware store to pick up some supplies for a leaking faucet. I still had on my suit (important meeting at the Capitol that day) sans the jacket. My son had on a band shirt and skinny jeans (no sagging mind you.) We were a typical father and son – only my son was an inch taller than me. When did that tiny six pound baby grow to be six feet tall?

I’d sent Tristan off to find a new front doormat while I went through the thirty thousand small bins of washers.

Standing in isle 34 I heard a voice that made me go cold.

“Here kitty kitty.”

In fronting of me was Ronnie Martin. He was older and larger than I remembered. The last time I remember seeing him was 45 years ago in Freshman English class when a couple of popular kids told him nobody put up with bullies in our high school and that they liked me. Now here Ronnie was a big slob with a gray ponytail, bad ink on his arms and a shit eating grin on his face.

I had the misfortune to be named Bartholomew. My mother called me by my full name. I went by Bart. Ronnie picked up on the mew.

Back in elementary school Ronnie and his minions would follow me making pathetic mewing noises and yelling “here kitty kitty.” Someone once filled my desk with cat litter. Ronnie told the teacher I’d done it to get out of work. She believed him. I had to clean it up and was sent to the office where the principal lectured me on my bad behavior. Such was my life for the next three years.

Ronnie made sure I was always picked last on teams and that I never had a place to sit on the bus. Now I look back on it I realize that I was his obsession. It just seems so sick and twisted now.

The bully looked me up and down in isle 34 like some creeper looking at a pretty girl in short skirt. “So I hear you’re some sort of big shot. What are you the gay secretary?”

He knew I owned a successful advertising and PR agency. He must have known.

Tristan came up with a doormat looking curious at the big rough looking Buba blocking my way.

I tried to pass and Ronnie blocked me. I looked him in the eye. “The fact that you bullied me does not define me. The fact that you are a bully defines you and will always define you.”

“You’re still a pussy Bart. You’ll always be a pussy.”

I said nothing but I knew he’d always be an asshole.

Putting my arm around Tristan I headed for the check out.

“What was that about Dad?” My son gave me one of those amused WTF looks.

“Just some loser I knew in elementary school.”

Tristan started to laugh in that way teen boys laugh. I had to laugh too.



~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman



Short Story Sunday: Desert Sky

Martha put a lawn chair in front of the motor home and looked into the night sky. Sometimes the desert would get freezing at night, but tonight it was almost warm. A million stars showed in the sky above her. She’d heard stories of alien sightings in the desert. It was always the desert where they were sighted in the sky, or crashed. When they crashed nobody ever saw them again.

She wondered about the odd pale skinned creatures with long fingers, tiny mouths, and huge eyes. Maybe the huge eyes came from living on a dark planet, or living underground for eons.

It was weird how they never wore clothes. It was weird how they were shown as naked when in every science fiction movie and series, from Star Trek, to X-files, to Firefly, to Star Wars, to Gardians of the Galaxy, everyone always wore clothes.

The only time she remembered seeing a naked man in a movie in the desert was in The Hangover. It was in the desert, in Las Vegas. A naked guy jumped out of the trunk of a car. He wasn’t an alien.

Sam and Ian came out of the motor home with chairs and a small cooler. Sam handed Martha a beer. The thanked him, then they all sat and looked at the stars.

“Do you think there is anyone else out there? There has to be. We can’t be here all alone,” said Martha.

“I think we’re alone here. But I don’t think we’re alone in the universe or even this galaxy,” said Sam.

Martha glanced at her companions. Sam was tall, blonde and handsome as a man could be. Sam fit into any group with his tan skin, dark hair, and dazzling smile. Martha was typical of women in her hometown. She was pretty but not too pretty with plain brown hair that hung to her shoulders in a slight flip.

“I’m kind of homesick, but the people around here are nice. I think we should move back to the house in San Francisco in a few days, or maybe by that place we were looking at in Santa Cruze, you know by the beach. I could hang out there for a while.”

“We could start a family,” said Sam. Ian looked at Martha with a hopeful, and sort of sad smile.

“There is an Air Force base near Las Vegas. Maybe we should go over there and just give ourselves up.”

“Or maybe we should move to Santa Cruz,” said Ian.

“We’re never going home,” said Martha wiping a tear from her eyes.

“No love, we’re stuck on this planet. It’s not a bad place. We fit in. Let’s just make the best of it.”

Martha looked into the faces of her companions. I guess with their combined love they could pull through on this strange planet called Earth. She got another beer out of the cooler, popped the top, and too a long drink out of it.

“Sure guys, Santa Cruz sounds great,” she said. The she looked back to the sky and watched for something, anything familiar.

~ end




Short Story Sunday: Romance of the Needles

Romance of the Needles

Tiffany packed up her laptop and decided and left the coffeehouse at 5:00. Her bag was packed with a hundred hypodermic needles, red lipstick, a few limes and a couple of condoms.

In the restroom she’s shook the ponytail out of her hair, donned a black cocktail dress, red lipstick and black stiletto heels.

He told her he had something for her. She didn’t know what it could be. Flowers maybe? A gift certificate to a spa perhaps? He wasn’t the type to give anything inappropriate; after all, she had worked for him.

After the accident she’d worked around the clock helping with public relations work and anything else that was needed to keep his business going. Sure he had a huge staff and she was the outsider, but she knew she had to mean more.

Driving to his estate she knew what she was doing the wrong thing. In the hospital he’d taken her hand and murmured over and over that all he wanted was clean needles.

Her reaction was so wrong, but she wanted him in such a wrong way. Hers was a sick, twisted, obsessive love. In turn she was addicted to him the same way he was addicted to whatever it was he needed to inject himself with.

She would rescue him from his habit. In gratitude he’d give her his love, his body, his life. She’d be the angel who’d be with him when the drugs called to his soul and the addiction sang its serene song to him. She’d be the chains on the rock that held him safe. His addiction would switch from the opiates that held his will, and she’d become the fire that consumed his soul.

On the other hand, he could be looking for clean needles for disease prevention in local addicts. He could be one of those good souls who bring bag lunches and blankets to homeless people. No, it couldn’t be that. She needed to rescue him, not help him rescue a bunch of stinky strangers.

He answered the door, dressed in a long sleeve tee shirt showing off his muscular form, well fitting jeans, with a lock of hair falling over his forehead, almost begging for her to brush it out of his eyes, wrap her hand around his neck and pull him into a kiss.

“Tiffany, what a surprise” he exclaimed. “You look lovely.”

Leading her to a room in the back of the house he spoke of his recovery and how he was ready to live a fulfilling life of enlightenment and joy. His smile was dazzling as he looked at her for affirmation.

“My dear Tiffany, I have something special for you,” he said, causing her heart to flip. On the tables were baskets. Exquisite baskets of brown, amber and tan. Tiffany watched him push up his sleeves, and pick up a basket with clean, track free arms.

“You’re all dressed up.” He said to her, delighted, yet somewhat puzzled to see her in the seductive black dress.

She lied “I was going to meet some friends at a club but they canceled out. Um, these are lovely. Very unusual.” she said looking at the baskets. She felt like an idiot.

He handed her a reddish brown basket. “This is one of my favorites. It took me almost 60 hours to make it. I’d like you to have it, as a thank you. You know, darling Tiffany, my business wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you.”

Tiffany’s heart pounded. Her head was light. She studied the intricately woven patterns, amazed by the construction, sick to her stomach. “You made it out of pine needles.” She said, feeling her face go flush, trying not to cry. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

A tall strikingly beautiful auburn haired woman came into the room. “I’m sorry Daniel, but you need to wrap up business and send your little friend home. Dinner is ready.”

Daniel flashed Tiffany his dazzling smile once more. “It’s so hard to find clean needles this time of year.”


~ end


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Short Story Sunday: Dancing on the Beach

Dancing on the Beach

As told by Dr. Shawna Greene

For three days we watched the human like form sitting motionless near the beach. We decided if it was human it was probably dead because no human could sit for so long in the heat and the cold and the wind the way this one did. More than likely it was garbage someone had dumped. A few people had traveled through over the past few weeks, near the abandoned mining town near the isolated stretches of desert and beach where we’d set up our summer research station in Patagonia.

We’d come to look for dinosaurs (with success, finding eggs and giant bones).

Dave, Blane and I trekked an hour down the hill to the spot where the mysterious lump sat. It was indeed human, wrapped in a blanket, large brimmed hat, dark sunglasses and a scarf covering the face. It almost looked like a modern mummy. The, without notice it moved.

“¿Estás bien?” Dave asked the stranger.

The man unwrapped the scarf from his face and removed his sunglasses. “I’m fine. I speak English too. But thanks for asking.”

He was tall with long chestnut colored hair and sparkling hazel eyes. Of course I noticed.  I couldn’t help it after being out in the wilds for a month with my fellow researchers. My two college aged kids were in summer internships, my ex-husband was off on a honeymoon with a woman 10 years younger than me and I was doing something I loved – discovering the past.

But today, we discovered something quite different and unexpected. His name was Andrew. He was tall (I figured 6’2″) with a quick smile and a musical voice that captured the attention of all when he spoke.

Andrew said he’d been researching folk music, writing songs, savoring the local flavor and hinted at getting over a broken heart. A kindred spirit I thought. Well, I have to admit, my heart had mostly healed after my husband left two years ago – the day after our youngest child graduated from high school.

Had it been anyone else, we would have let him stay, but Andrew was so delightful and charming, and helpful that we let him stay on. His knowledge of just about everything was astounding. In the evenings he would sing songs ranging from Argentinian folk songs to Italian Opera. Everyone on the team did better with Andrew around.

The younger women, especially the graduate students Courtney and Kaitlin were enchanted by Andrew. No surprise there. He’d dote on them without being a predator. Then again the men were enchanted by him to. We all were.

Sometimes Andrew and I would share a glass of wine under the stars and talk of everything under the stars. He didn’t give away much of his personal life. He’d been living in New York and London, but thought of moving back to California where his family was. His first love was Opera, but he was taking notes on a book about how music takes the mind and soul to new places. He was more interested in finding out about us than telling us about himself.

I felt a bond with this appealing and mysterious man. He was so mysterious but I was so comfortable with him, like I’d known him forever.

One evening we walked the beach after dinner, just the two of us. We talked about time and space and he opened up in an unexpected burst.

“Time travel,” Andrew began, “will be possible, a reality, but it will be squandered by idiots who don’t appreciate the past or the possibilities of the future. They will be selfish short-sighted buffoons only interested in entertaining their own shallow minded pursuits and never seeing the power of the invention of the time machine.

And think about this…we are here on Earth with no knowledge of ANY life on other planets, yet we spend time and brain power on theories of what is out there and life in the universe and how the universe started and… what if nobody else is out there.

Or what if someone else is out there and they’ve figured it all out and we’re wrong, or we’ve figured it out and they are wrong. But we don’t know, because while you look for your giant dinosaur bones which seem like they’re from another planet, we ponder if there is life on other planets. And why is it all so random. You might disagree because of your scientific mind and experience with creatures of the past and because of the sheer amount of wonder in your soul…but…oh Shawna, we’re so different you and I.”

I didn’t know what to say. Andrew held out his hands. “Dance with me Shawna. Dance with me under the stars.”

Taking his cool hands in my own I found myself suddenly transfixed, dancing in the dark, with a long haired stranger who indeed was so different from me.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered in my ear. And against all better judgment I closed my eyes only to find myself transported into a ball room, wearing a silk gown the color of roses and sunsets, dancing with a handsome hazel eyed man in tails and white tie. And then I opened my eyes to find myself in cargo shorts and a fleece jacket on a desolate beach on the bottom of the earth.

“What are you?” I asked him that surprised that I didn’t ask who but what.

He laughed and I caught something different in his smile. His teeth. He looked like he had fangs. “I am a genetic wonder and mystery. I am the Velociraptor of the human subspecies.” Then he looked serious. “Shawna, don’t be afraid of what I tell you for I would never harm you. I am a Vampire.”

“Like in the movies?” I stupidly asked.

“No, like the guy standing next to you. Like the guy who came down to the ends of the earth to heal a broken heart and soul, to give up, to write songs and wallow in my misery only to find you.”

“You have fangs.” I had to say it. I just had to.

Andrew gently brushed my face with the back of his hand. “Yes, and I use them. I drink the blood of Regular Humans. I live for a long long long time. I have relatives who are over 1,000 years old. I was born in the 19th century, before the Civil War, during the California Gold Rush. But, I am just part of the natural order of the world, of the universe, and I hope of our two souls.”

“I have to admit you’re scaring me Andrew.”

“And the thought of you being afraid scares me more than anything Shawna. I’ve trusted you enough to tell you what I am. Now let me trust that you will not be afraid or reject my offer of friendship.”

“Will you turn me into a Vampire?” It was fear in my voice now, not hope that he would.

“Only if you want me to. Maybe. It isn’t anything I take lightly. But, but, Shawna, that isn’t what is important here. It is evolution, the very thing you’ve spent years studying, the difference in species and life forms and life forces and life and…” He ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes then opened them looking right into mine. “And love. It all comes down to love and of course passion. You have that passion. I can see it when you speak of your work, your life, your children. You have what so many can only dream of.”

“You’re a Vampire.” I couldn’t get that out of my head, despite his remarkable words and way of speaking.

“Yes, and I’m cool with it. Are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“I understand.”

“Do you want my blood?”

“I would never harm you Shawna.”

“Have you taken blood from any of the others here?” I thought of my fellow scientists and grad students.

“Yes, but…why do you think they’re so happy all the sudden? Sure I took something from them that I needed but I gave them what they needed. Do you understand? Can you attempt to understand. I mean, really, it isn’t any different than finding a new dinosaur. Isn’t it?”

Then we just looked at each other for the longest time. It was a time that ended up in his cabin on the hill, in the creaky iron bed with the colorful quilts, with his cold body wrapped around my hot human one.

It was still dark when I awoke, brushing my hair out of my eyes. Next to the bed, sitting on a wooden crate was a woman. Her chestnut hair the exact same rich color as Andrew’s.

“I didn’t know he had company but…there is something about you Shawna that makes me glad he bonded with you. He is charming but my son can be exhausting and so emotional at times.”

I had to say I was in shock seeing this beautiful woman who didn’t look more than twenty six years old. “I’ve come to take him home, not away from you, but…what I’m trying to say is that you touched Andrew’s heart and maybe…”

Andrew opened his eyes. “Mom. Have you met Shawna?”

Well, this was awkward.  They packed up and left, but not before they both left me with their contact information. This was weird. Vampires leaving contact information. Then again, it would have been weird for Andrew to just leave without a word. Of course my ex-husband left without so much as a word, but that is another story.

But before he left, he kissed me one more time then whispered in my ear, “I love you.”

The summer and our time in the desert is almost over. I still savor my short time with Andrew and the memory of his voice and his touch.

Will I contact him when I return? I don’t know. We both live in California where there are plenty of beaches to dance on and where the stars shine bright on the night.

Then again…he is a Vampire, or maybe that shouldn’t matter.


~ end


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

A Short Romance (about a long romance)

A Short Romance (about a long romance)

Lady Sarah put down her cup of tea and pondered the meaning of her life. According to her father she shouldn’t be doing this. First of all she shouldn’t be using her brain (according to her father) and second (according to her father) her life had no meaning until she became a wife. That would be a wife to a man of her father’s choosing.

The first time she was engaged it was to George. They’d grown up together. The prospect of being George’s wife was exciting. They’d been friends forever. But he grew distant and then one day went away and came back a week later with a beautiful wife and a tiny newborn baby. The baby had been named Sarah.

The second man she had been engaged to was Percy. He was quite wealthy, good looking and said “Sarah, dear Sarah, I am enchanted by you.” They spent long hours walking and talking about all sorts of things that made Sarah use her brain. And when he kissed her (her father did not know) she wanted to use the rest of her body too. Unfortunately a month before the wedding Percy fell from a horse and was immediately killed.

Sarah thought she would die that day. She went into mourning and thought she’d never see the sunshine again.

Six months later Sarah’s father, against her wishes, her father arranged for her to be married to Jonathan, a young wealthy titled widow. His beautiful, rich and pregnant wife had thrown herself from a bridge one cold winter morning and sank down under the ice. It was horrible. But Sarah came to realize that it was a fate better than living with the abusive Jonathan. He already hinted at how Sarah had to change and conform to meet his standards. He told others how he would mould her and whip her into shape. The first time he slapped her and called her weak she said nothing. The second time she called off the engagement, telling her father that she’d rather jump off a bridge than marry a monster.

Now, two years later, she was engaged again. She remembered the night that awkward Sebastian was introduced to her. He was nice enough to look at – more than nice. But he was quiet, not the usual loud boisterous kind of man her father would bring around.

One day she’d seen Sebastian in the stable after a rain storm removing his wet clothing. Now at night she closed her eyes and imagined him in her bedroom, without the wet clothing and without the awkwardness.

One day Sarah was having afternoon tea with Sebastian – it was one of those rare times when they were alone. She looked at the young, rich, handsome, quiet man that she was going to marry and realized she hardly knew him.

“Have you always been so quiet?” She knew it was rude and improper but she had to ask.

“I’m, uh, not always so quiet dear Sarah. It seems as if this engagement was thrust upon us, this union, this contract… I have become so very fond of you. I will love you. I promise you that I will. I will adore you. You are everything I dreamed of. The fact that you ask me about my quiet nature shows you have an active mind. I like that. I’m not always so quiet. I promise you.”

I will love you. It was an odd thing to say. It was true, maybe. But he didn’t love her yet. He hardly knew her. She hardly knew him.

Sarah finished her tea, put on her coat and went out for a walk. She wished she was in the city right now. It would have been nice to see people.

In the morning fog she was a figure on the path. It was Sebastian. She ran to him and then took his face in her hands and kissed him.

He put his arms around her and kissed her again and again and again.

“We need to make it work. We’ll be happy. We won’t be strangers who live together for years. We will be friends and partners. You will be my equal. Our love will be true and strong,” he said to Sarah.

She looked into his eyes and wondered, “Who is this man?”

Sebastian put his forehead against Sarah’s and said, “I want to marry you Sarah. I see your independence, I see your spirit and your passion. Our parents think this is a good match. They see our union as good business. They also have given up on our prospects of marriage. I see this as a union of souls and of like minds. Sarah, marry me. Let me grow to love you with a passion that will last for a thousand years.”

They kissed again, and then he said, “But, I have a secret that even my family doesn’t know. Hear me out and if you don’t want to marry me feel free to leave and I will be gone from your life forever.”

Sarah listened and pondered the weirdness and then the reality of the secret. It could have been worse. So she decided at age 26 that her prospects were zero. She didn’t want to be a pathetic old maid to be pitied by others. She didn’t want to be married to a pompous ass or a man who didn’t understand her mind. It would mean a life of adventure and passion and risks. She was willing to do that. What did she have to lose?


Thinking back on those days Sarah had to smile. She was planning a special anniversary dinner. She and Sebastian would be celebrating their 200th wedding anniversary. What a special time November 1814 was for them! For you see, Sebastian was a Vampire. But I’m sure you’d already guessed that.

And yes, they did live happily ever after.


~ End


First published in 2014.

I’m on the road right now but will be back soon with exciting new REAL LIFE adventures about life, traveling with adult children, art, beauty, parenting, history, love, vampires, and whatever else I happen to experience or observe. xoxo

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman



Fantastic Science Fiction Stories (and a poster for you)

I’m on the road for a few weeks – but in the meantime I have an assignment for you.

If you like well written science fiction you’ll like this. Believe me – this book is seriously good.

Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe
(WPaD Science Fiction, #1)

  • A scientist struggles to find a cure for Alzheimer’s before the disease takes his mind…
  • Dolphins and whales work with their human trainers to terraform a new planet…
  • Artificial intelligence backfires on humanity when sex robots become sentient and demand rights…
  • A lost reptilian tries to find her way home…
  • Random items are disappearing in a small town and cats may be responsible…
  • What’s worse than being lost in space? Being lost in space with a crew of idiots…
  • A salvage crew lands on a deviant, yet disturbingly familiar planet…
  • A rogue space captain acquires a robotic pet with surprising abilities…
  • An injured soldier telepathically connects with his leader for rescue…
  • Humans evacuated from a doomed Earth colonize a new world… and learn nothing from the experience…

Enjoy these stories and more in a stellar science fiction collection from Writers, Poets and Deviants. Featuring the usual cast of deviants, with some fresh new faces joining the crew.

And YES, there are stories about CATS, aliens, romance, horror, and wow, the variety will blow you away. No, this is not a vampire book. No vampires but you’ll love it.


Read Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe – at least some of the stories, share your experience, even leave a review.

And in return get this beautiful poster of Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe with artwork by Jason Kemp as a THANK you for reading, enjoying, and sharing what you think.

The 13 x 20 inch posters are printed on beautiful paper – ready to frame or in to your wall.

Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe

Strange Adventures in a Deviant Universe – WPAD Science Fiction.

  1. Read the book.
  2. Tell me what your favorite story (stories, or poem) is in the comments HERE. The one exclusion is HOLLOW HEADS because it has already been posted on this blog in an earlier form. If you can’t leave a comment (because you don’t have a WordPress account etc. email me at juliettevampiremom@gmail dot com)
  3. Please leave an honest review where you purchased the book.  I hope you post a nice review, but be honest.
  4. I’ll let you know where you can SAFELY and privately leave your mailing address.
  5. See fine print below.




Barnes and Noble (B&N) Nook:

Barnes and Noble (B&N) Paperback:

Read the Fine Print (RULES of Promotion):

  • The story Hollow Heads is not included in this give-a-way promotion, even if it is your favorite story. 
  • Poster and Book Mark are included.
  • While Supplies Last.
  • Posters will be shipped after January 20, 2018.
  • Your personal information will not be sold, given to, loaned to, or seen by ANYONE except me. Your email address and mailing information will remain PRIVATE.

WPaD is the acronym for Writers, Poets and Deviants. We are a diverse group of writers who came together on the Internet to support and encourage each other.

Our collaborative works are charity fundraisers, with a percentage of royalties being donated to Multiple Sclerosis in support of members of our group who live with MS. WPaD books are available worldwide in paperback and ebook. For more information, please visit our website: http//

To see more of Jason’s art at (J Harrison Kemp, Tenkara Studios) and contact information go to:

Thank you. Have fun. Happy Reading. Dream to the stars and back!

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

WPaD Anthologies

Check out these other WPaD Short Story Anthologies.