Rosemary and Lemon…and Vampires

A lot of Vampires love the smell of rosemary and lemons because it reminds them of being warm and in the light.

In fits of melancholy they are drawn to the past. Alone they fill bowls with herbs and fruit, then sleep until someone texts them or until the night calls.

I bet you didn’t know that.

Just like with regular humans the people of the shadows have days where they can’t seem to bring it all together.

Then the stars come out, it starts to rain, a song comes on the radio that brings up the spirit. A friend reaches out a cold long fingered hand and pulls you into an embrace and you know you aren’t alone.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman


Melancholia Over Coffee

What do you want to do today?

My daughter asked me that as if I’d have an answer.

I have a million things I could be doing – I should be doing.

A dog wash is on the list. The 11-year-old sled dog is rather ripe right now. Then a walk to the lake.

And maybe something to get me out of the mood right out of a Poe story.

I have coffee and a million stories running in my head but when my fingers touch the keyboard or a pen I freeze up and can’t find the physical or mental energy to do anything.

We have a nectarine tree to plant. We have fog drenched roses to prune. We have to play Wii Dance 15.  We need to laugh.

I’ll work a Werewolf story around in my mind and think about tales from my Vampire brothers I can share. I have books to finish. I’ll write down stories later of teens and school and friendship and even a magic trick. I will let the cats in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out.

I’ll finish my coffee, start my Saturday and be glad I am not Annabel Lee.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman



In the Darkest of Places

I am dead tired. No pun intended here.

Even Vampires get the blues.

After a whirl wind couple of months with work, kids, school, the husband, elders, family, friends…and I’m in the middle, the key to it all – suddenly it all stops.

There is nothing to do. Nobody needs me. Not for the next few days.

Of course I have a thousand things I need to do and WANT to do, but I feel nothing for it. I feel frozen up with nothing.

I haven’t been here due to being on the road, but my muse has also abandoned me. I have deadlines that I’m missing because I can’t come up with a story or write on the work that I’ve already done. It is good work that I don’t want to screw up with my melancholia.

I think of writers and artists who write when they’re suffering for their art. Oh please, I don’t do that.

The dog needs me. She always does. We’ll paint our nails. I’ll organize my office. I’ll give her a bath.

I’ll go out to a seedy neighborhood bar and find the neck of a roughly handsome guy who smells of pot and beer and fresh mowed grass. He’ll never know the girl in the short sun dress is a Vampire mom who lives in a neighborhood he’d never live in. He’ll be a nice guy with maybe some nice ink and I’ll chat and give him sweet dreams leaving him less a couple pints of blood. I’ve played that one out before when I’m alone and feeling at a loss of everything. Thank God for neighborhood bars.

I’ll walk home through the dark, hit the parkways with the oak forests and bats who will follow me. I’ll see the deer run through the dark night and the eyes of coyotes and raccoons. Possums will watch along with bobcats. No human will see me, the girl in the sundress who is really a 154 year old Vampire mom.

I’ll watch a movie on TV or read. Maybe I’ll call a friend. Maybe not. Or just watch the sunrise and wonder where my ghost has gone. Even my ghost isn’t around.

My brother Val calls this brain fever when I get like this. I say it sucks (there again, no puns intended.)

I just looked up and hope to see a faint outline of a ghost out the window. No such luck. But a cat just came up and rubbed against my leg. It’s a start. He meows and says “Life is good when I’m around because I have a small brain and I’m cute.”

So I shall try to muse without a muse and shake myself out of my own shadow.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman