Cold lips touched with blood

Cold lips touched with blood – getting ready for Halloween with comments from my kid.

 

Oh deathly pale

With cold lips

Kissed with red

The blood of the living

Brings your heart

Alive

For the night

So that you can love

With passion 

And desire

Tasting the life

Of love and dreams

that last a lifetime.

 

“That poem is really bad mom.”

“Hey, I’m getting ready for Halloween. I’m thinking doing some really creepy drawings too.”

“Do it.”

“I will.”

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Headless (a romantic Halloween poem… sort of)

jakc shaving

Headless

He stood in front of me

his neck a stump

without a head.

In his hand was a note

on expensive stationary

scrawled in rough cursive.

It said

I need

a HEAD.

 

 

To his delight

I took a gourd,

a pumpkin really,

and with a knife

carved a face

with eyes fierce

with pride

and a mouth

that smiled

not with joy

but with spite.

 

 

I put the pumpkin on his neck

then lit the candle within

and told him

“Go find another. I’m tired of loving a man who is always losing his head over nothing.”

 

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Halloween is Almost Here (more musings and random thoughts)

Halloween is almost here

Ghosts and Goblins yell and cheer,

Witches drink their Bat Eye Beer

Halloween is almost here.

 

halloween kittie

 

At the crack of dawn this morning, actually about an hour before, I looked out on my deck to find two ghosts holding coffee mugs and savoring the first stirrings of the woodland creatures who live in my yard and behind my house (along with the sounds of fire truck sirens, trucks and a random dog bark or two.) I watched my translucent friends put their heads together in close conversation, occasionally laughing or using hand gestures.

These ghosts have discarded any old ideas of white sheets and hollow eyed wails. They leave that for others. Sure they can haunt the crap out of anyone and show their form in death (a rather violent image, especially for the one called Mary) but they usually choose not to.

He has pale skin and dark, almost black glossy hair that layers around his face. She has long reddish brown hair that she lets blow in the ghostly winds that most of us can’t feel.

If it was any other pair of ghosts I would have chased them off, but these two are mine. At least mine because they live in my space. I usually don’t like ghosts or anything without a body, but there are always exceptions.

I didn’t interfere with their reveries. I’d pick up the cups later. That is the empty cups they fill with their phantom coffee. I had other things on my mind.

Earlier my husband Teddy had come home with a scratch across his handsome face. Three scratches from fingernails to be exact and bites in various places.

He’d been called to see about a rare pocket watch a client of his was looking for. When he arrived at the old Victorian he discovered that the apartment was below street level (the original street level.)

The door was answered by a woman of shocking appearance. She was bloated like a dead thing that had been out in the sun. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed with pale pinkish red. Despite her bony frame the fashionable black dress she wore strained at the seams. White blonde hair tangled around her face. Blood caked around the corners of her mouth and on the cuticles of her fingernails.

He recognized her, barely. In 1934 he’d spent two weeks with her on Catalina Island. People thought she was a film star with her Jean Harlow looks and beautiful clothes. So much for happy memories.

She told him that now she fed on transients and outcasts who wouldn’t be missed. Rather than taking a pint or a quart here and there she sucked them dry. Nobody would miss them or care. It always looked like natural causes anyway. Then she’d sleep it off for a week or two and start again.

Teddy, being the man he is and a Vampire with a social conscience tried to tell her that what she was doing was not acceptable. Bad move Teddy. She attacked him, screeching that she never asked to be a Vampire. She didn’t choose that life. She had become isolated as those she preyed upon.

As she fled into the night  The young man who made the nicely decorated basement apartment at home was in a deep sleep. He wasn’t someone off the grid but someone who’d left his bedroom window open and a Vampire climbed in. Teddy had the decency to erase any bad memories the young man might have had. Then Teddy called a Vampire Hunter to take care of his old friend. Teddy didn’t have the stomach to do it himself.

We talked about it for a while and like so many things it just seemed sad. Too many things seem sad.

Halloween is almost here but we’re already up to our eyeballs in scary shit, including a school shooting scare and other stupid stuff.

But then again like all families we’re busy to the point where we can’t stop and even think about anything much. It is like this all the time. Halloween brings a flood of activity. A party at my house on Friday. A party on Saturday. A skate meet on Sunday. A dozen other things including school and work are squeezed in between. Then we start all over again.

But I’ll make it a point to stop and sip my coffee and watch the sunrise.  And tomorrow we’ll carve those pumpkins I’ve been gathering on my front porch!

 

Halloween is almost here

Werewolves howling is so near,

Zombie looking for his ear,

Halloween is almost here.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Pin-Up-Halloween

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beneath the Bed

Beneath the Bed

Something lurks beneath the bed
They say it’s all inside my head
But they haven’t seen its icy stare
Or felt its hot breath on their hair

The mirror reflects two sinister eyes
If I stare long enough they grow in size
If my breathing takes a pause
I hear the clitter-scratch of razor claws

I set my slippers on the floor
Ready to bolt toward the door
Suddenly the tile’s quicksand
My leg feels the scrape of a bony hand

I wake – a scream rips from my throat
My bed’s an island, my room a moat
In the inky depths it swims below
Waiting to gnaw on foot or toe

The door swings wide – the light could blind
I struggle against the straps that bind
Me tightly to this bed each night
To stop me from my panicked flight

Just another night in the loony bin
That’s what they call this place I’m in
The only way I’ll ever be free
Is to make peace with the beast in me

Copyright © 2012 Mandy White

 

 

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I’m always delighted to feature the work of Mandy White (thank you Mandy.) For more from Mandy White check out the books below. In October, just in time for Halloween, both are available for $0.99. Get your scare on and support a good cause. 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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Dysfictional 2: Shreds of Sanity (Dysfunctional Fiction)

by Mandy White

ONLY $0.99 in October.

– A henpecked husband makes a stand against his surly wife.
– Is a mysterious stain on the ceiling of a prison cell a product of the inmate’s imagination or something more sinister?
– A woman trapped in a loveless marriage finds magic in a gift from a friend.
– Something is alive in the outhouse…
– A young boy longs to venture beyond the walls of his post-apocalyptic city, until he learns the terrifying truth about what’s out there.
– A terminally ill teen’s forbidden love affair turns tragic.
– A young witch and her talking dog are tasked with ridding their home of unwanted guests. Magic is their only recourse.

Enjoy these twisted tales and more in Volume 2 of Mandy White’s ‘Dysfunctional Fiction’ series.

This ebook is DRM-free. Can be read on non-Kindle devices.

 

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Creepies – Twisted Tales From Beneath the Bed

Creepies is only $0.99 during the month of October. Yes, HAPPY HALLOWEEN from WPaD!

Featuring stories from  Nathan Tackett (Author), J. Harrison Kemp (Author), Marla Todd (Author), David W. Stone (Author), A.K. Wallace (Author), Zoltana (Author), Mandy White (Author) and More…

– A desperate father, on the run with his daughter reveals a terrifying truth about his child…
– Who is the bogeyman, really? Hear the real story – directly
from the monster himself…
– A tiny burger joint along a desert highway – it appears to be a refreshing oasis for a traveling family… or is it?
– A psychic investigates an apparition of a little girl and uncovers a shocking tale…
Enjoy these chilling stories and more in Creepies: Twisted Tales From Beneath the Bed.
This collection of short stories is a fundraiser for Multiple Sclerosis, in support of some of our writers who live with MS. For each copy sold, a portion is donated to MS research.

http://www.amazon.com/Creepies-Twisted-Tales-Beneath-Bed-ebook/dp/B009JXJU8C/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1413868634&sr=8-2&keywords=WPaD

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