Delivered to Your Door

red heart

Delivered to your door…

I looked at the muscular, almost beautiful, naked body on the bed and the folded up sheriffs’ uniform on the chair. The badge seemed to sparkle saying “look at me, look at me.” A white and pink orchid flower was behind his ear.

Holy crap, this wasn’t how I’d planned on starting out my week.

I was three years old and he someone throwing me up in the air and I laughed so hard I could hardly breathe.

His hands are warm and I cling to him to put my ear next to his chest and hear his heart. I hold him tight feeling the heat radiate from his body. I keep laughing. He is so different from everyone else I know.

Thirteen years later, he takes my hands, I laugh. Then my best girlfriend says “He’ll marry me and I’ll be his wife forever.” No way would she get the most handsome man in the world to marry her. I laughed in her face and everyone yelled Happy New Year. Someone lit up lights to spell out 1865. We were in California and in love with men we have silly school girl crushes on. Who cared about the war? We were safe.

I woke in a cold sweat from my dream, on the back deck, my book on the ground, the cat staring at me. I heard my son’s voice.

“Mom, Uncle Val is on the phone.” My son Garrett stood at the sliding glass door holding my phone out at arms length.

My brother Valentine, 13 months my senior said I have to come right now. It was an emergency. Nobody else could come. None of our three older brothers could make it. Everyone else had suddenly vanished off the face of the earth.

I arrived at the farm house, my two teens in tow, slamming the door as hard as I could when I got out of the car.

I’m usually pretty calm but I lit into my brother when I saw him walking towards us. “Nobody ever consults with me. I’m the one with the kids and the husband and my own business. I’m on fucking call 24/7 for everyone in this family and nobody ever asks me what I want or need. Nobody.”

“Are you done?” Val asked this in an uncharacteristically sarcastic tone.

“No. What is going on?”

My brother scowled at me and shook his head. “Why are you yelling?”

I went into the house leaving him in the yard. I could hear my son saying “Bad day to mess with my mom.”

Dealing with the sick and elderly is something we do. We do it for love or obligation or family bonds or whatever the reason it is usually on autopilot fueled by guilt and frustration. I’m so saint but sometimes I want to play that saint card so much it hurts.

Eleora stood at the door in a yellow bikini top and a tie-dye skirt, her brown curls done up in red bows. She fluttered around then kissed me on each cheek. Tellias gave me a big hug. He was wearing a green shirt with yellow parrots embroidered on the back. A patch on the front said Dave in large script letters. His white blonde hair was pulled back with a green ribbon.

They look like they’re 19 or 20 years old but they’re ancient – two of the most ancient Vampires known. They were pioneers and founders of the Modern Vampire movement. It is hard to see them like this. It literally breaks my heart.

Steel guitars were hissing away on a scratched up old record playing on a wind up phonograph in the corner.

“We can’t find the car keys,” said Tellias.

“We’re being tropical tonight,” said Eleora as she danced around and put an orchid flower behind my ear.

I was ready to scream. “Again? Where did you last have them?” I asked slowly and calmly.

“If we knew that we’d be driving,” said Tellias, as he took the ribbon out of his hair and shook it out on his shoulders.

“We’d take a road trip to Montana and Maine and Michigan and Maui!” Eleora sang as she danced around again.

“How long have the keys been gone?” I asked.

“Two or three weeks. Val won’t let us use his car,” Tellias said.

“He says we drive too creatively,” Eleora giggled.

“Yes, he said we drive too creatively,” added Tellias.

“Creatively,” said Eleora, this time more seriously.

“Creatively. That was a nice way to put it,” I said more to myself than to the Elders. “What about food? Is Val bringing you food?”

Tellias patted my hand. “Val has been a darling but we like delivery. We call and they come to the house. Amazing. We should have done that a long time ago.”

Delivery? What in the world were they doing? I looked at the hanging chandelier in the entryway. “Nice fixture. Is it new?”

“A couple of nice men came and installed it,” Tellias told me. “It should last for years. The old one was fitted for gas and ugly. Remember?”

“We had them for lunch,” Eleora proudly told me.

“You shouldn’t do that. They’re help,” I told them.

Eleora just smiled. “We liked them Juliette. We wanted them to stay.”

“Are they still here?” I asked not knowing if I wanted to know the answer.

Tellias answered this time. “No, they left. Then we called the County Sheriffs and asked them to come out. We said someone tried to break in. Eleora sounded scared. They sent two good-looking strong young men right to our door.”

“Right to our door. Good looking healthy young men,” Eleora echoed.

I glanced out the window and saw the black and white car on the side of the house. Oh no.

“Where are they?” I asked trying not to panic.

They both looked to the ceiling. I ran up the stairs.

In a bedroom done in high Victorian style, I found a golden haired well-built man face down and naked on the bed. His uniform was neatly folded in a chair. He was alive but in a deep sleep. The name badge was Murphy, as in Officer Murphy.

Another handsome muscular young man was in the next bedroom over, shirtless on his back, asleep. I noticed a wedding ring on his finger. The name badge on his shirt had the name Garcia. His sleeping eyes moved a little under long dark eyelashes.

I called down the stairs. “How long have you had these guys here?”

“Since yesterday. We jammed the GPS on their car.”

I sat down on the top step, almost in tears. They couldn’t find their car keys but they could jam a GPS signal. I thought about the guy with the wedding ring. His wife must be sick wondering where he is.

In most popular novels ancient Vampires are powerful creatures of the night. In my life they are silly creatures that forget all rules about consequences or right and wrong. They act like senile teenagers, with occasional flashes to the wise, powerful leaders they once were.

Tellias sat down next to me. “We thought about keeping them for a while. Then you and Val wouldn’t have to worry about us.”

Eleora slid down on the other side and stroked my face with a cool hand. “Why are you so upset? Everything will be fine. It always is.”

We dressed the nice handsome patrol officers and positioned them in less provocative poses. An hour later another patrol car and an ambulance arrived. Two officers had become ill with an unexplained illness. Not knowing what to do a young couple took them in to their home. All was well. The officers recovered with no memory of what happened. Both mentioned an overwhelming calm and sense of well-being. Imagine that.

Tellias took my hand, like he did when I was a child. “Juliette, my dear child, we weren’t going to turn those young men into Vampires. You know we wouldn’t do that.”

“I just worry about you two,” I told him.

“You care too much for those Regular Humans,” said Eleora. “You have to distance yourself.”

“I’m married to a man who used to be a Regular Human,” I said quietly, but ready to scream.

Tellias squeezed my hand again. “And if it wasn’t for Eleora and me he would be dead.”

I went back to the bedroom where the married officer had been. Years ago my husband lay in that bed, a phantom between two worlds, that of the humans of the light and those of us who favor the dark. An unwanted conversion that had turned those warm hands cold forever, but given me…

“Mom?”

I looked over to kids standing next to me. A 14 year old daughter and a 17 year old son. They shouldn’t have to see all this, but I don’t believe in sheltering them. I never have.

I guess I should do my famous parenting blogger bullet points but there is no point in this story. It is just one of those things, on one of those nights.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Note: This was first posted in 2013. My kids are older now (18 and 21.) Eleora and Tellias are still getting visits from Murphy and Garcia. Sigh.

Vampire Diary: Music To My Ears

Dear Diary,

I continue to be startled, even I, the King of Vampires, with this world in which I have come to be.

I was at a drinking establishment where mostly young people go. Many of the men wear beards, but out of style, not from some religious beliefs. Not all have beards. I do not have a beard. Women there are open and friendly with men. They have beautiful necks that show when they tilt their heads back and laugh.

I was there, drinking Bourbon, scanning the room for possible dinner companions. It is never a problem. I am handsome and I am a Vampire. How do they say, “no problem.”

As I looked over the room my ears caught a conversation.  I, being a Vampire, can hear most conversations, even across a crowded pub.

A woman said, “My mom took me to see deaf leopard when I was a kid. It was great. We had so much fun.”

Then I heard her male companion say something about “the drummer lost his arm.”

“He killed it,” said the woman.

“Absolutely,” said the man.

I have never heard of such a thing in this Modern society in which we live. There must be a secret society where wild animals tear apart musicians. Then the one armed man killed the beast or that is what I assume. What mother brings her child to such things? On the other hand when I was a young child in Transylvania my Baba brought me to see a band of Werewolves disguised as priests burned at the stake. She told me to cover my ears to the howls and look at the sparks that danced high in the night sky like fairies. My Baba could always make everything into a gentle learning experience.

There were always those who would have their hounds rip apart bears, but I would have none of that. My hounds only ripped up men, and usually not musicians. At least not most musicians, though I did hear songs that were so bad that violence would be caused. The names were odd,  McArthur Park  and Thong Song. Playing those songs in public might their cause singers to be burned alive by anyone who could hear them.

No I am not making jests, or kidding as they say now. I overheard one man saying that a band called Jr. Jr. was THAT BAD. It made his ears hurt. His wife almost had an anxiety attack at a live performance waiting for another band to play. In these times music is taken seriously to the point where it is both physical and a religious experience. Often it takes place of the traditional religion. Being a Vampire I have no use for traditional human spiritual experiences unless it can bring a warm beating heart my way. But I digress from the conversations I was overhearing.

People spoke of work and relationships. Mostly of relationships, and violence, such of musicians getting arms ripped off by large African cats who cannot hear.

As I left I heard several women saying they thought I was cute. One said, “super cute.” With violence and food on my mind I tried not to take heed, but the term also used for babies and puppies confuses me.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I am amused to be called a Millennial. I am the ultimate Millennial spanning eight centuries. My drivers license says I am thirty-two. I’ve been told I look younger. I smile at such observations.

Women have told me I am cute when I smile. I ask why and they smile. One said it was a dimple. My cuteness is a trap which brings me blood. I am learning to accept that which I do not understand.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

At the mail boxes this evening I asked my neighbor if she has taken her children to see animal spectacles. She told me that she brings her children to the zoo to see the animals. Then she started to talk about endangered species and zoo breeding programs. I asked her if the animals eat people. She said only stupid people. Upon observing the fact that I was serious she told me that the animals in the zoo are not there to eat humans.

She said, these exact words, “What the hell do people do where you come from?”

I told her, “I overheard people in a bar speaking of an African cat tearing an arm off of a man during a show. Mothers would bring their children to see this.”

She said, “That is sick, just like dog fights. Those people need to be locked up forever. They should be eaten by their own dogs.”

Now I am the one who is shocked. People in this place confuse me. They are shocked by violence yet they with to instigate it for their own ideas of justice.As we talked my cats joined us and rubbed their bodies against our legs. She picked up the small black cat and kissed his ears.

I asked her. “You would really feed those who make dogs fight to the dogs?”

“If I was in charge you bet I would,” she said. Then she kissed the cat again.

I like this woman. If I was still Vampire King I’d make her one of my advisors.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

It was easy being a Vampire when humans lived simple and uncomplicated lives. Life was hard centuries ago. One worked. One feared God. One had children. One died. Only a few had the luxury of thinking of anything more interesting. There was none of what is called leisure time, or career choices.

When I was small I assumed only Vampires and those of the church could read. I asked my father about it. He laughed and said most humans were nothing more than animals, like cattle. They followed the leader to slaughter as they basked ignorantly in the happy sunshine on a beautiful autumn day. Considering he was their leader I was no surprised by what he said. I did not like him but I found truth in his words.

I was at a bar again tonight. People mingled. My lover Gillian was to meet me later. I spoke with the bartender, a man named Jeremy, and scoped out the crowd. A young woman sat next to me. She smiled and brushed her hair out of her eyes in a way as to invite my interest in her. She told me her name was Brooke.

Then she announced that she was a vegan, and added with an intense starring into my eyes, that she was also an atheist.

I acknowledged her with a question. “Why was this the first thing you said to me?”

“This is who I am. It is my morality. I don’t believe in the enslavement of animals or the slavery of an unprovable belief system that is set up to control the masses.”

I would have rather discussed movies but I let her speak of the evils of the eating of flesh. Then I asked, her what she thought of Vampires.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes in her head. “Vampires and other such paranormal beings are an extension of the mythology of religion. They were created to make us fear what we do not understand. For example the sexual nature of Vampires was created to make us fear our own sexuality.”

I looked into her eyes and gently put two fingers on her hand. “What if I was a Vampire?”

She frowned. “You’re insanely cute but that is a stupid pick up line.”

I continued. “If I was a Vampire I would drink your blood.”

“That’s gross,” she said with a raspy squeal of disgust.

“Ahhh, but you are wrong Brooke. I’d first taste your mouth, and your breasts, and take you to my bed and taste all of you, before I would even touch your neck or a drop of blood. I would make you see the God you claim not to believe in. You would cry his name out loud. Then I would sink my teeth into your neck, and as I feasted upon you, I would give you visions of exquisite pleasure that you would never forget. You would be mine, body and soul. Your blood would be mine. Your desires would be mine. I would have you. All of you. And Brooke, you would beg for more.”

I could tell she was under my spell as she swayed in her seat. Her breath grew short.

She gasped and grabbed my arm so she wouldn’t fall off of her chair. “Now what?”

I kissed her, long and deep. “Dear Brooke, sit next to that young man over there, the one with the glasses. Order burgers. Eat bacon. Wear leather and wool. Don’t talk about religion. Take him home with you tonight. Be sinful.”

Maybe she will have faith and maybe this night see God with this young man. Maybe not. My mind had gone to other thoughts. I thought about demons I have seen both human and otherwise. I need something more than gathering food to occupy my time.

Gillian slid on the seat next to me. “Have you eaten yet?”

I smiled and kissed her. “No, just thinking about what I want,” I told her.

Later as I lay in bed with my arms around Gillian’s cool body, I thought about how smooth her skin was, and how flushed she looked with fresh blood in her veins. That was heaven, even for a Vampire. No I was not created to be feared. I was created to inspire. Now I laugh at my own thought, then turn to kiss my love again.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Delivered to Your Door

Delivered to your door…

I looked at the muscular, almost beautiful, naked body on the bed and the folded up sheriffs’ uniform on the chair. The badge seemed to sparkle saying “look at me, look at me.” A white and pink orchid flower was behind his ear.

Holy crap, this wasn’t how I’d planned on starting out my week.

I was three years old and he someone throwing me up in the air and I laughed so hard I could hardly breathe.

His hands are warm and I cling to him to put my ear next to his chest and hear his heart. I hold him tight feeling the heat radiate from his body. I keep laughing. He is so different from everyone else I know.

Thirteen years later, he takes my hands, I laugh. Then my best girlfriend says “He’ll marry me and I’ll be his wife forever.” No way would she get the most handsome man in the world to marry her. I laughed in her face and everyone yelled Happy New Year. Someone lit up lights to spell out 1865. We were in California and in love with men we have silly school girl crushes on. Who cared about the war? We were safe.

I woke in a cold sweat, on the back deck, my book on the ground, the cat staring at me. I heard my son’s voice.

“Mom, Uncle Val is on the phone.” My son Garrett stood at the sliding glass door holding my phone out at arms length.

My brother Valentine, 13 months my senior said I have to come right now. It was an emergency. Nobody else could come. None of our three older brothers could make it. Everyone else had suddenly vanished off the face of the earth.

I arrived at the farm house, my two teens in tow, slamming the door as hard as I could when I got out of the car.

I’m usually pretty calm but I lit into my brother when I saw him walking towards us. “Nobody ever consults with me. I’m the one with the kids and the husband and my own business. I’m on fucking call 24/7 for everyone in this family and nobody ever asks me what I want or need. Nobody.”

“Are you done?” Val asked this in an uncharacteristically sarcastic tone.

“No. What is going on?”

My brother scowled at me and shook his head. “Why are you yelling?”

I went into the house leaving him in the yard. I could hear my son saying “Bad day to mess with my mom.”

Dealing with the sick and elderly is something we do. We do it for love or obligation or family bonds or whatever the reason it is usually on autopilot fueled by guilt and frustration. I’m so saint but sometimes I want to play that saint card so much it hurts.

Eleora stood at the door in a yellow bikini top and a tie-dye skirt, her brown curls done up in red bows. She fluttered around then kissed me on each cheek. Tellias gave me a big hug. He was wearing a green shirt with yellow parrots embroidered on the back. A patch on the front said Dave in large script letters. His white blonde hair was pulled back with a green ribbon.

They look like they’re 19 or 20 years old but they’re ancient – two of the most ancient Vampires known. They were pioneers and founders of the Modern Vampire movement. It is hard to see them like this. It literally breaks my heart.

Steel guitars were hissing away on a scratched up old record playing on a wind up phonograph in the corner.

“We can’t find the car keys,” said Tellias.

“We’re being tropical tonight,” said Eleora as she danced around and put an orchid flower behind my ear.

I was ready to scream. “Again? Where did you last have them?” I asked slowly and calmly.

“If we knew that we’d be driving,” said Tellias, as he took the ribbon out of his hair and shook it out on his shoulders.

“We’d take a road trip to Montana and Maine and Michigan and Maui!” Eleora sang as she danced around again.

“How long have the keys been gone?” I asked.

“Two or three weeks. Val won’t let us use his car,” Tellias said.

“He says we drive too creatively,” Eleora giggled.

“Yes, he said we drive too creatively,” added Tellias.

“Creatively,” said Eleora, this time more seriously.

“Creatively. That was a nice way to put it,” I said more to myself than to the Elders. “What about food? Is Val bringing you food?”

Tellias patted my hand. “Val has been a darling but we like delivery. We call and they come to the house. Amazing. We should have done that a long time ago.”

Delivery? What in the world were they doing? I looked at the hanging chandelier in the entryway. “Nice fixture. Is it new?”

“A couple of nice men came and installed it,” Tellias told me. “It should last for years. The old one was fitted for gas and ugly. Remember?”

“We had them for lunch,” Eleora proudly told me.

“You shouldn’t do that. They’re help,” I told them.

Eleora just smiled. “We liked them Juliette. We wanted them to stay.”

“Are they still here?” I asked not knowing if I wanted to know the answer.

Tellias answered this time. “No, they left. Then we called the County Sheriffs and asked them to come out. We said someone tried to break in. Eleora sounded scared. They sent two good-looking strong young men right to our door.”

“Right to our door. Good looking healthy young men,” Eleora echoed.

I glanced out the window and saw the black and white car on the side of the house. Oh no.

“Where are they?” I asked trying not to panic.

They both looked to the ceiling. I ran up the stairs.

In a bedroom done in high Victorian style, I found a golden haired well-built man face down and naked on the bed. His uniform was neatly folded in a chair. He was alive but in a deep sleep. The name badge was Murphy, as in Officer Murphy.

Another handsome muscular young man was in the next bedroom over, shirtless on his back, asleep. I noticed a wedding ring on his finger. The name badge on his shirt had the name Garcia. His sleeping eyes moved a little under long dark eyelashes.

I called down the stairs. “How long have you had these guys here?”

“Since yesterday. We jammed the GPS on their car.”

I sat down on the top step, almost in tears. They couldn’t find their car keys but they could jam a GPS signal. I thought about the guy with the wedding ring. His wife must be sick wondering where he is.

In most popular novels ancient Vampires are powerful creatures of the night. In my life they are silly creatures that forget all rules about consequences or right and wrong. They act like senile teenagers, with occasional flashes to the wise, powerful leaders they once were.

Tellias sat down next to me. “We thought about keeping them for a while. Then you and Val wouldn’t have to worry about us.”

Eleora slid down on the other side and stroked my face with a cool hand. “Why are you so upset? Everything will be fine. It always is.”

We dressed the nice handsome patrol officers and positioned them in less provocative poses. An hour later another patrol car and an ambulance arrived. Two officers had become ill with an unexplained illness. Not knowing what to do a young couple took them in to their home. All was well. The officers recovered with no memory of what happened. Both mentioned an overwhelming calm and sense of well-being. Imagine that.

Tellias took my hand, like he did when I was a child. “Juliette, my dear child, we weren’t going to turn those young men into Vampires. You know we wouldn’t do that.”

“I just worry about you two,” I told him.

“You care too much for those Regular Humans,” said Eleora. “You have to distance yourself.”

“I’m married to a man who used to be a Regular Human,” I said quietly, but ready to scream.

Tellias squeezed my hand again. “And if it wasn’t for Eleora and me he would be dead.”

I went back to the bedroom where the married officer had been. Years ago my husband lay in that bed, a phantom between two worlds, that of the humans of the light and those of us who favor the dark. An unwanted conversion that had turned those warm hands cold forever, but given me…

“Mom?”

I looked over to kids standing next to me. A 14 year old daughter and a 17 year old son. They shouldn’t have to see all this, but I don’t believe in sheltering them. I never have.

I guess I should do my famous parenting blogger bullet points but there is no point in this story. It is just one of those things, on one of those nights.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

red heart

Note: This was first published in 2013. I’m on the road right now so you’re getting well worth reading again reprints. See you back with new material in August.

 

What is your favorite trait in a politician? Or a Vampire? Hey, they’re not the same.

With all of the debates and crazy and totally insane political crap going on right now it is high time I do an official political poll. You may choose one or more answers and you may do the polls as many times as you want (to make sure it is fair and completely scientific.)

So…

 

What is your favorite trait in a politician?

 

 

What is your favorite trait in a Vampire?

 

 

If everybody running for President of the United States VANISHED today, who do you think should run? Who would you replace them with?

 

 

What do you like to eat?

 

I added the last one in case I have a party or have your over to watch a movie anytime soon.

All of the answers will be scientifically tabulated and sent to all of the major news organizations. Thank you for your time.

Vote today and vote often.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Food for Thought

This morning, between cups of coffee, I made a cake. I made a cake from scratch.

I won’t eat any of the cake. I don’t eat cake. It makes me sick. But it is beautiful. People love my cakes.

Why? Because I’m going to a picnic. It is one of those group events where everyone brings foods, the old guys grill, hula hoops spin and all is well.

So I go and try to feel like a normal person, but I’m not a normal person. I’m a Vampire. You know how it is.

When it comes to our teens food is sometimes a touchy subject. How old should your kid be before they go from biting wrists to biting necks? I’d like to believe they’ll wait until college, but unfortunately the temptation is always there. But don’t forget that it comes naturally and they’ll know what to do. And please, don’t compare it to sex. But is can be sexual, but not always so please, don’t panic. Don’t put on your Victorian Vampire Prude hat. At the same time don’t encourage your teen to over indulge. As with all things they must learn to use caution.

And cake? Use caution as well. It can really screw up a Vampire system. Too much sugar mixed with not a lot of blood will jack up a Vampire unlike almost anything. And people say garlic is bad. Screw that. I love garlic. It is sugar that will mess up a Vampire.

So please, do not let us eat cake.

Yes, you learn something new every day.

This morning… I’m writing for a few hours before we have to take the cake to the picnic. I look out the window and see my bird feeder covered with what look to be finches of all colors. The large squirrel is braking and flapping his tail. The cats are watching. I have my third cup of coffee.

Yesterday I had coffee with a dear friend of mine (we’ve been friends for over 100 years.) She wore no make-up but was still stunning. She is also always stylish in ways I have always admired (and failed to reach.) But the reason I mention this is because she told me a story about a ghost.

My friend is in real estate. She comes across house with stories. More than that, she sells houses with ghosts. We talked for a good hour about the homes with ghosts and the thought stuck with me for a good long time. I’m still thinking about it.

It is her story to tell, so maybe I’ll try to get her to write it down so I can post it here.

But I’m thinking about the ghost and food and roller skating. Yes, roller skating. In an hour we’ll watch the live feed of the World Championships in Columbia (yes, Columbia this year.) It is run by the Italians so it will run well. The Italians are the best when it comes to roller sports.

And tonight we’ll be at a party with friends we met through skating. It will be a wonderful event (for a birthday) so I’m sure there will be more cake I will not eat. But there will be plenty of necks and wrists. The home is large and lovely with plenty of quiet spaces for private conversations – if you get my drift.

Yes, I’m just rambling this morning and thinking out loud.

I have to get down to some serious writing now.

Have a good weekend everyone. Talk to your kids. Hug them. Tell them you love them. Teach them to be safe. And let them fly.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Adventure in a Cup

Adventure in a Cup

A Vampire Muses on Passion, Mr. Grey, Food and Marriage

The teenager is using my computer, so I am using my husband’s. It is a lovely laptop with a 17 inch monitor. I have an old PC that is one heart beat away from death. It is maybe beyond death. It has Vista on it so it was dead before it even started to die. There is also an old Mac G5 on my daughter’s desk that once screamed with speed but now seems low and is not good friend with the Internet. So the child in on my Power Book Mac and I am on my husband’s lovely Dell laptop. I know for sure it is lovely because I gave it to him for his birthday and I was the one who figured out the specs etc, etc, etc.

The point of this is not computers. It is books and romance and writing. Some of you already know this, but my husband Teddy deals in antiques, antiquities and precious metals as a business. From time to time he leaves off bits of stuff on his desk. Not long ago in a box of odds and ends of gold and silver was a book. It was “The Last Man” by Zane Grey. Forget every single thing in Fifty Shades of… Zane is the man to go to for passion and romance. He is the one to go to for the agony of the heart. His mother had to have been a Bronte.

Zane Grey - Master American Story Teller

Zane Grey – Master American Story Teller

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite the fact that it was published in 1922 it is HOT. And who said there was no romance back then. There was – especially in the great wild Western parts of the country (where I just happen to be from.)

 

The cover called to me so I had to open it up and read those words...

The cover called to me so I had to open it up and read those words…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I opened the book, just by random chance and came upon a paragraph that I was compelled to read.

“Again Ellen fell upon the soft pine-needle mat, face down, and she groveled and burrowed their, in an agony that could not bear the sense of light. All she had suffered was as nothing to this. To have awakened to a splendid and uplifting love for a man whom she had imagined she hatred, who had fought for her name and had killed in revenge for the dishonor she had avowed – to have lost his love and what was infinitely more precious to her not in her ignominy – his fault in her purity – this broke her heart.”

I had every intention of coming up to my husband’s computer to blog about food and the family dinner table, but Mr. Zane Grey swept me off of my feet. I’ll take Zane over Christian anytime. I’d even take Dorian Gray over the latest version.

Watch out honey, Dorian has a big ugly picture hidden away that you don't want to see!

Watch out honey, Dorian has a big ugly picture hidden away that you don’t want to see!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So back to food…

Vampires do not live on blood alone. OK we can, but we don’t.

We try to gather each night as a family, at the table. Sure the kids could ask to just grab a glass of blood and head up to their rooms, but we like the time as a family. My husband and I could just drink, but we like the time around a bit of food. Not too much just a bit.

We will gather around the table with a bit of rare meat sliced thin, maybe some seafood, hummus and thinly sliced vegetables, my own salsa, maybe some flat bread and goat cheese with fresh basil leaves or something small and light. Thick green Swiss chard and other vegetables are lightly sautéed in olive oil. Next to that is a plate of olives and cheese and some slices of fruit. It is just a bit, but enough to spark a conversation and talk about the day. As parents it is a opportunity to talk about school, and talk and talk and talk about school, both the academic and social aspects.

Tonight I was in the kitchen thumbing through one of Nigella’s books. I also like to check out Another Foodie Blogger (click here.) I make a lot of stuff. Today I cut a pork loin in butterfly fashion, pounded the jeebers out of it until it was thin and then rolled a lovely stuffing in it. That was tied with kitchen twine and put in the oven (where it still is 30 minutes later.) The stuffing was just fresh mozzarella cheese, a bit of spinach, a slice of bacon, fresh rosemary, garlic, onion and some more Italian type herbs plus any extra bits of pork that came off in the pounding. This was rolled up and then covered in a sauce I threw together of tequila, a bit of catsup, honey, dried onion flakes, a lot of herbs and spices and a splash of orange juice. And of course fresh rosemary from the yard. That was both inside and out. I know it will be good. Then I threw a couple of sweet potatoes (the orange kind) into the oven to bake (plain and whole.)

I wait for Teddy. He works 6 or more days a week because it is what he does. It is what most business owners do – they work. They work for money but there is something else that drives them. It is a passion and desire – not unlike a romance.

Some like to say that Vampires are bloodless and heartless, devoid of love and passion. That is so untrue. Even the most dead of our kind lives and breathes passion.

And speaking of sick and twisted passion (and my name isn’t Gray or Grey) I wrote a little story about pine needles and longing. CLICK HERE to read it.

My husband, the dad and the guy who works all the time is also a man of passion and romance. Right now he is downstairs with the teen discussing the latest airing of Bar Rescue with our daughter. Yes, folks you’ve come to the right place for high culture… anyway, my husband is a man of quiet romance and great passion. Unlike the men (be they Vampires, humans or other paranormal types) of movies and fiction he is here. There is no chase. There is no questioning motives. There is no mystery or inequality or hidden portraits of weird horrifying visages or any reason for me to have tears. He is just like that. And no, he never reads my blog so he won’t even see this.

But he brings home random old books, insists we sit together every single night and he loves me and his children. You can’t get more romantic than that – even if you are a Vampire (and a very handsome one at that.)

That’s it for tonight. xoxox

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

If you see one movie in 2015 then see this one (or read the book.) Read a lot of books.

If you see one movie in 2015 then see this one (or read the book.) Read a lot of books.