The Curse of Bloke Island

We’re watching the current season of The Curse of Oak Island AGAIN. Maybe they’ll find another button this week, or a spike, or …. could it be WOOD? Or maybe we’re just watching to hear Gary talk. We love the way Gary talks. In the meantime I have a little story for you about my brother Max.

Curse of Bloke Island

They were all such guys. Really. They expected her to do all the work while they farted around and shared all of their bull shit sexist stories. It wasn’t as if she had an opinion. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t a valued member of the team. It wasn’t as if they even knew she was there until they needed something.

Mehitabel walked up the path to the top of the hill. She could see in the dark moonless night with no problem. That was never a problem. The only dark that bothered her was the dense void of her male counterparts.

At the top of the hill she raised her hands to the level of her shoulders than put her palms up. Her feet raised up off of the ground. She could levitate. Most of the males at the camp couldn’t even imagine doing anything like that. They were all Vampires, sure, they were, but none of them could harness the powers of darkness like she could. Sure they were larger and stronger physically, but they were such jerks.

And she always beat them at Risk. Every. Single. Time. The girl beat them at Risk.

Putting her feet back on the ground she listened to the surf break on the beach below.

He’d be there in a minute. She always knew. He always knew that she knew. He was the sender. She was the receiver. That was it. He was such a guy.

Mehitabel turned around. There stood he stood, the ultimate in alpha Vampire guys. Dark hair, amused eyes, and handsome as hell.

“Max,” she said, “I knew you’d be here.”

“You always do. We have that connection,” said the man who had also told her that he could never love her. What an asshole. What a guy.

He put his arm around her, and with his hand on the small of her back he pulled her close and kissed her.

She kissed back then pulled away. “What do you want Max?”

“You know what I want.”

Such a guy.

“Hey Max,” she said. “After we get rid of the Vampire Hunter headquarters on the island, get the treasure back, and clean up the mess, do you want to go see the new Charlie’s Angels movie with me?”

He smiled. “Sure, that would be fun. It’s a date.” Then he kissed her again.

He was such a guy.

 

~ End

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Unlove Letters

Gabriel_Metsu_-_Man_Writing_a_Letter

Always find a comfortable place to write your un-love letters. Make sure you don’t forget to bring your rug with you when you leave.

Unlove Letters (aka You Don’t Want Me Anymore and/or I Don’t Want YOU Anymore)

I get a lot of traffic on this blog for people looking for love letters, but what about break-up letters?

I was asked about it.

The whole idea of break-up letters leaves me cold, which is really cold considering I’m a Vampire. My philosophy, as an expert on romance and relationships is to make a break-up simple. By the way, I’m not talking about long term relationships like marriages, those which involve children, or anything involving violence and/or other abuse.

I’m also not talking about weirdness like mindful uncoupling, spiritual separations, or beyond unbonding.

My main advice is that when you break up you need to BREAK up. Don’t keep going back for more. Cut the social ties. Divide up the mutual friends. Be an adult, pull up your pants, put on your dancing shoes, and move on. Move on ESPECIALLY if they leave you. Please don’t make a fool out of yourself. Just move on. Cut your losses. Find yourself something that fits better.

But if you’re dating or moved in with someone and knew within the first week you’d made a bad mistake then sure, leave a note, then LEAVE.

Please don’t leave a long letter detailing everything annoying thing your former other did that you failed to tell them about when you were dating. Just keep it simple. Like I said, just move on. Make it quick and clean – it won’t hurt so much that way.

 

Dear Former Sugar Bear,

I took everything that was mine, including the cats. There is a half bottle of blood, and a bottle of white wine in the refrigerator. You can have those. I’ve blocked your number. Don’t ask me why I left. You know why.

 

Dear Zombie Pie,

I found another woman’s finger in our bed. I’m leaving. Don’t fall apart over it you pathetic brainless mess.

 

Dear Wolfie,

You howled under the wrong moon one too many times.

 

Dear Sprit,

Don’t try to ghost me. I beat you to it. You’re so fucking transparent.

 

Dear Mer,

There was always something fishy about this relationship. I need someone warm. Like maybe another mammal.

 

Dear Art,

I can’t live with your bad taste. I have to go before my eyes explode.

 

Dear Peter,

If you want a grown up woman and not just a playmate or a guy with tits then GROW UP.

 

You kind of get where I’m going with this. Keep it simple. Even keep it civil. Breaking up isn’t easy. Don’t make it harder on yourself than it has to be.

By the way, this is the last time I’m going to do this subject.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

About this video: This was a local band that made one big national hit song. I saw these guys once and after the show we all went to a friend’s house. She was in love with one of the band members but he showed up with some trashy woman with big hair, super long fake finger nails, and a tight animal print dress. She was all over him like a bad rash. Too bad because they (my friend and the cute band member) would have made a cute couple. They would have been happy forever. You blew it dude. My friend, who was drunk, locked herself in her bedroom and passed out. My purse and keys were in there. I stayed the night trying to wake her up and listening to some asshole asking me if I wanted to do lines with him. Not not running lines for a play. That’s all. I think I fell asleep on the couch while some big dog growled at me every time I moved. This was in the 80’s. The 1980’s not the 1880’s.

 

By the way, that video starts out in Old Sacramento. The mansion shown later in the video is just down the road from the home of Eleora and Tellias. That is just trivia. Steel Breeze was a Sacramento band. The band members went to University of California Davis. Local stuff.

~ J

 

 

 

 

 

Ring of Fire, and The Circle of Love

I sat listening to my brothers, two of them, singing Ring of Fire in a low slow sort way that sounded like it belonged in a horror movie. Andy is a professional singer. Val is a numbers guy. Together they create weird and wonderful music.

When I was small I’d envy the way they’d sing together, anywhere and everywhere.

“Her ex-husband showed up.”

“Had you met him before?” I had to ask.

“No. Never. He came in the house with Cameron, Shawna’s son, and started to bark at her about me. I wasn’t even in the room, but I could hear it from the bedroom. I wasn’t even quite awake yet, but it woke me up for sure. He was telling her that she was making a fool out of herself by seeking someone so much younger than herself. I was ready to go out and tell him that I’m 168-years old but honestly I wanted to see his justification.”

“So what happened?” Val asked.

Shawna ripped him a new one. She reminded him that he’d left her for FeeFee. He reminded her that FeeFee’s real name was Ashley. No matter what her name, the woman was almost twenty years younger than Eric. That is the husband. Eric. Anyway Eric said that it had been different with Ashley. Shawna called him all kinds of names including a fucking self centered misogynistic bastard who spent most of his life thinking with his dick. He didn’t take too kindly to that.”

Andy picked up a cup. “Does anyone want more coffee?”

“Sure, I’ll make a French Press. Tell us what happened,” I said. Andy often starts stories and doesn’t finish them.

I went into the kitchen to make coffee. Val hearded Andy after me and sat him down at the kitchen table.

“How old is Shawna?” Val asked.

Andy continued his story. “Almost sixty. She turns sixty in a few months. She looks a lot younger. She’s stunning.”

“I have to agree with you. She is lovely,” said Val. “But you look thirty five on a bad day, twenty something on a good day.”

“What does that have to do with the price of tea in China? I love her.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” I said, “especially since her ex is the same age as her and with a woman who is, what, in her early forties now?” Shawna had told me how her husband had left her years before for a much younger woman who needed him.

I glanced out my window. The usual Friday morning leaf blower assault had begun at my neighbor’s house. The neighbor on the other side has a five hour leaf blower marathon every Thursday. I hate leaf blowers. Seriously, everyone hates Vampires. They should put their energy into hating leaf blowers.

“There is always someone using a leaf blower in this neighborhood,” said Val.

“I hate leaf blowers. I HATE them,” I said. “So, Andy, then what happened? Did you tell Eric that you’re a lot older than he is. He obviously doesn’t know you’re a Vampire.”

Andy smiled and flipped his hair behind his shoulder. “No. Obviously not. It’s none of his business. He wouldn’t believe it anyway. Let him think I’m thirty-five or whatever. Let him steam in his own juices. Let him be angry about a younger man being attracted to the woman he dumped. Let him be jealous that I have a relationship not only with Shawna but with his son Cameron as well.”

I looked at my tall long haired brother and knew he turned heads. I could imagine Eric having fits in his mind about this guy who was in love with the woman he discarded.

Val poured a cup of coffee. “How did it end up Andy?”

“Eric left. The only reason he’d been there was to drop off Cameron. He said something about me only being a few years older than Cameron and about Shawna having no shame. We all had a fine laugh about that one later on. Val, pour me a cup too.”

By our second cup of coffee (Vampires drink a lot of coffee) we’d moved on to other subjects. Val was glad he was single. I was glad I was happily married. Andy was in love with a middle aged woman who was still somewhat confused that she’d fall in love with a Vampire. Her son thought Andy was exceptionally cool. Andy is exceptionally cool.

I put two cups of coffee out on the back deck. As my brothers and I talked inside I could see the Ghosts, Nigel and Mary sitting down at the outdoor table and putting their hands around the mugs. They inhaled the coffee they could not drink, savoring the beautiful aroma.

I guess the moral of this story is that we all make choices. We also make choices on how to react to the consequences. Don’t be like Eric.

That’s all.

I worry about Andy, but then again, I worry about everyone. At least it gets my mind off of my kids. College starts back up again soon. They’re both moving. They’re both moving on to new schools. More coffee please.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

A Normal Vampire Teen – Love Poems and Letting Go

A Normal Vampire Teen – Love Poems and Letting Go

She stood by the trees

Green leaves glowing in sunlight

Hope and desire glows

From her perfect skin

Her blonde hair like a halo.

My heart breaks

For my fondest desire

Is to grow old and frail

With my springtime girl

She stood by the trees

And smiled back at me

I waved and smiled

Just friends, not lovers or donors,

Friends for a while

And I wish her well

A long and happy life

As I watch and wonder “what if?”

 

I found that free form verse scrawled on a paper in my sixteen year old son’s backpack. I wasn’t snooping, he told me he had a paper in there I had to sign.

It broke my heart, a little, to see him so grown up, but yet still so young.

His father and I have had “the talk” about the different life spans of regular humans and those of us who are vampires.

I know the girl. Her name is Amber. She always kisses our cats when she comes over with the usual pack of teens for swim parties and study groups. She played Olivia to his Orsino in the school production of The Twelfth Night.

He let her go so she could date another boy, a boy who isn’t him, a boy she won’t fall in love with.

I see him through his bedroom, black skinny jeans, hair in his eyes, skyping with friends, laughing. A normal sixteen year old by anyone’s standards.

First published July, 2012

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Nailed to the floor

We had seen her wearing a veil to cover a bruised face. We could smell blood where her skin has split open from his blows. We had seen her wince from cracked ribs that hid underneath a tightly laced corset.

On a winter night when I was small, my brothers Aaron, Val and I walked down a dark muddy street for no reason other than to get out of the house. I was six, Val was seven, Aaron was a mature eleven (almost twelve.)

At the time the Civil War was over, Lincoln had died, and Andrew Johnson was president. That year the first Civil Rights bill would be passed, the ASPCA was founded, and the James Gang committed their first train robbery.

Closer to home, both Mark Twain and Bret Harte were writing for the Sacramento Union Newspaper. Construction was everywhere due to flood control efforts. Reuben Clark, designer of the state capitol, died in the Stockton Insane Asylum. And three Vampire children saved a life.

We didn’t go out thinking we’d rescue someone. Our parents had gone to a fancy party. Even in those days, in the winter of 1866, there were parties put on by those in society.

One night, for a few hours we were no longer under the watch of our parents or two elder brothers. We were free to roam the streets as we wished.

We came upon a new house built in the Italianate style. We knew who lived here. It was the woman with the veil, who smelled of tears and blood.

Aaron lifted me to the window so I could see in. On the floor a woman was crouched. I could see the moonlight reflecting off of the silk of her dress. Folds and ribbons swirled around her. She moved her head and cried out for help in a small weak voice.

The back door was open. It was after midnight so not a soul was awake except the woman on the floor. Silently we made our way to the front of the house and found the room she was in.

Aaron grabbed a candelabra on a table and the candles lit. My brother showed early talents for creating fire out of nowhere. Not all Vampires can do that but family caries that trait. It comes in handy.

On the floor in a dress of burgundy and gold crouched a woman. She looked to be in her mid twenties. Her brown hair was still up in complicated curls set with ruby and pearl clips. She looked up at us with fearful eyes, then realized we were just children. Bruises were forming around her eyes. Then we looked down to her hands.

Her hands were nailed to the floor.

“My feet,” she whispered.

Aaron pushed her large skirts aside to see that her feet had also been nailed to the floor.

“My husband did this to me. Help me.”

Aaron started to pry away the nails. He told Val and I told help hold her so she wouldn’t fall. I remember getting blood on my hand. I couldn’t help but taste it. I was only six so the temptation was too much.

Aaron held her face in his hands and sent healing cold through. Then he asked, “Where is he? Where is your husband?”

“You are Samantha’s children. Your parents were at the party. They suspected. I should have…” she said, then trailed off, looking at us with tears running down her  face.

“Why did he do this to you?” That would be Val asking. He was only seven but I could feel the anger growing in him.

“I told him that I was going to leave him. He demanded to know if I had a lover. I told him no. Then…then he said he would never let me leave, and he nailed me to the floor.”

Aaron went upstairs to find the husband. Val stayed by the woman with his skinny little boy arm around her. I followed Aaron.

A man lay on the bed. His handsome face was calm without guilt or shame. Aaron blew a cold breath over him.

The man opened his eyes to find two children standing over him. We’d made our eyes go black and our fangs were out. He screamed and then we tasted blood.

No, of course we didn’t kill him. But he did go insane. Maybe because of us. Maybe not. His wife was able to get a divorce. She had the floor refinished and a few years later married a man who was filled with joy and happiness. He was a man who loved her rather than owned her.

Aaron watched her and looked out for her for the rest of her life. She lived until 1941. It was a long and happy life with her second husband and children. The scars on her hands and feet eventually faded, but her beauty and the joy she brought to the world did not.

Our parents never scolded us for our behavior. They were too appalled by what had been done to the young wife. They’d suspected something was wrong. A lot of people had suspected but had never reached out. It wasn’t polite. Plus we were Vampires so we were always cautious when dealing with people of the warm-blooded variety.

It is always easy to look the other way. That is the beauty of children is that they don’t. They look. Children LOOK and listen. They also learn from what they see – much more than any grown up can imagine. It is sad that so many people forget those feelings they had as children and the memories of an unexperienced mind.

I drove by that house yesterday. It had been beautifully restored. Looking through it in the rain made me think of cozy reading in a window seat. It also reminded me of that night and the young woman who’d been nailed to the floor.

There are all sorts of nails both physically and mentally that people use to hurt others.

I don’t know what else to say. She married my future husband’s younger uncle. We are still in touch with a few of their descendants. They’re cool about having Vampires in the family. We’re cool. No puns intended.

If you know someone who might be in an abusive relationship please reach out. Vampires are rare, so you can’t always count on us to be there to help.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Emily

 

 

 

___________________________

Jealousy is not a healthy or normal part of any relationship. A jealous partner isn’t doing out of love – he/she is doing it for control. I recommend “The Jealousy Game” by Mandy White, for all parents and teens and anyone (of any age) who might be at risk for staying in unhealthy relationships.

Yes, tell all of your human friends NOT to get involved with emotional vampires (for THEY are the evil ones).

The download is FREE on Amazon so that everyone who needs this book can have a copy. Share it please. CLICK HERE for the free download page.

It is also free on Smashwords and ALL OTHER online book sellers.
The Jealousy Game, an Ebook by Mandy White

www.smashwords.com

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Dear Diary,

My my my

Why do people say that? It is as if they think that they rule the world in their smug sense of overly obnoxious self worth.

What is it about that like in the movie about the little lost fish and the birds who all yelled mine mine mine. Those were gulls.

I have had people say that to me only to minutes later have their throats ripped out. That was a long time ago, in another life. Such is the world of a Vampire King. I now try to resist the urge to rip into the flesh of those who annoy me.

Today I found myself in an overly bitter mood. Back when I was the King of Vampires living in my castle on the mountain I would go into the tower and let the wind blow through my hair, and view all that was mine. At other times I would take my horse and ride through the woods until we were both exhausted.

Now I have a more modern approach. I get into my car and drive.

After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I could not have imagined a world with cars and paved roads. I could not imagine not having a horse. Maybe one day I will get a horse, or two, or three again. Until then I am content with my cats, though they resist riding in cars.

In the past five years I have learned much, including cars. I have two cars. One is electric and quiet. It is also expensive, but that does not matter. My advisories might have taken three hundred years from me but they did not take away my fortune.

My my my.

In my car I open the hole in the top of the roof, then I turn up the sound on the radio. A radio is another thing I could not have imagined having three hundred years ago. I was wearing flip flops and I could not have imagined those either.

The radio is an interesting thing. On it is every kind of music one can imagine. There are also those who talk angrily and excessively. I ignore them. Early in the mornings there are those who speak of farming and fishing. Late at night people speak of alien creatures who live in space and visit people at night, in their beds. I believe they have aliens confused with cats, or maybe even Vampires. It is not worth my time to wonder about it.

While I was imprisoned by my enemies in a crypt and thought to be dead I missed out on so much music. I did not know of Bach or Valvadi. I did not know of Mozart, Handle, Haydn, or Pachelbel. I missed Chopin. I missed the invention of the modern piano, which I now play. I missed Beethoven. I missed Verdi, and Greg, and Lizt. I missed Scott Joplin, Lead Belly, and Janice Joplin. I missed Jimi Hendrix. I missed Ravel, Stravinsky, Debussy, and Strauss. I missed the waltz. I am not sad that I missed Disco or Blue Grass. Those two types of music are not, how do I say it, conducive to the Vampire sense of being. I missed smooth jazz. I missed the starting of Rock and Roll. I missed Toto the first time they sang Africa. I missed so much. I did not exactly miss the polka because the villagers who were not Vampires had loud parties and dances that might have well been polkas. They vomited a lot. Then they slept and the Vampires moved in on them but that is a different story for a different day.

That is the beauty of radio. I can hear all of it now. Except Country Western and Rap Music. I do not listen to those kinds of music. I do not understand them or enjoy the sounds. Yes, for an easy meal, I will pretend to like them, or at least tolerate them for a short time.

Now where was I? I heard a song. It was a song about a Vampire. I do not understand it quite. As I drove my car through the countryside a song came on.

My, my, my.
Once bitten twice shy. 

What is this music I thought as I pulled over to the side of the road to hear more closely.

It was a song about a woman who spent a lot of time with men, but the singer was unsure of her. I think she was a Vampire. She bit him. Now he is shy of her. So she sleeps with many many men. He is of an old fashioned view where he finds that unsettling. Then he thinks she is a failure, but she exacts her revenge in a way I have yet to understand, but she comes out better. He is now shy of her because he fears being bitten again.

I looked this up on my Smart Phone, which three hundred years ago would have been considered magic to the point where if you had one you would be burned as a witch. If you were a Vampire it would have been alright, but regular normal warm blooded people are often ignorant fools who embrace that ignorance and the fear of new things. Vampires must always adapt and accept what is new and what is true.

The band that sang my my my was called Great White. Like a shark, not a racist name. I know now about racists. Great White an odd name but I have long since (for about four years) stopped questioning band names because that would be all that I would do all day every single day.

The men had long hair. I used to have long hair as they did. My golden blonde locks at one point came down to the middle of my back. Maybe my hair was a little longer.

That night after I arrived home I could not stop thinking about that song. Once Bitten Twice Shy.  

My beautiful Vampire lover Gillian came over to see me. I told her I was thinking of growing my hair long again like the men in Great White.

She told me no.

I told her the band Great White would be playing in Reno next month. “We could drive up there and stay for the weekend. It would be fun,” I told her just like a regular 21st Century man would ask his woman for a good time.

She said, “we’ll see,” just like women of every century since the dawn of time.

I may be a 675 year old Vampire but even after all this time, and so many women, I still will never completely understand them. Calling them them the fair sex is quite the misnomer. Women are never fair.

~ Vald

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

You have just read the 49th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read Vlad’s diary from the start CLICK HERE.