Friday the 13th with a FULL MOON (including Vampires, Werewolves, and parents)


We won’t see a full moon on Friday the 13th until 2049 so enjoy tonight and howl if you want to.

I thought about the full moon this week as I watched the Southern California sky (Orange County to be exact) at night. My daughter just moved down there. Tuesday. We moved her down on Tuesday. No, we did not cheat or pay anyone to get her into one of the top universities in the country. She worked her ass off (thank you very much.)

Let me climb on my soap box for a few minutes. Cheating to get into a college, to get a job, or to advance your child into sports does not service to your child. You are not doing them a favor. In fact you’re more than likely setting your child up for failure. Let them fail by themselves. If a kid fails on their own merit they’ll bounce back stronger than ever and learn from it. If they fail from cheating, especially from their parent’s cheating they will learn nothing. If they succeed from cheating they will learn nothing.

So, not that is out of the way let’s get back to Friday the 13th and the full moon.

I grew up being sort of suspicious of Werewolves. They were always sort of flashy and trashy, or were completely void of any social graces. Times have changed. Yes, there are still the trashy and flashy ones and those who are extremely awkward, but I have a few Werewolf friends. And yes, Vampires and Werewolves usually don’t run in the same circles, but we can, and we do, and sometimes I do. My son has also had a Werewolf for a roommate during his undergraduate days.

So what’s all this about FRIDAY THE 13Th?

Many people believe the negative origin of “Friday the 13th” comes from the demise of the Knights Templar on Friday the 13th. Some say the roots are more ancient, perhaps connected to the Last Supper or maybe even earlier events.

fart joke

I’m not superstitious and generally have little or no patience with superstitions.

Or as my friend Adam, who is a Werewolf, would say, “SHIT, when Friday the 13th is on a full moon all of the crazies come out of the woodwork.”

I’ll make sure to stay away from the woodwork, and Werewolves.

What about the 11th? 9/11 was worse than what happened to the Templars/ What about the 23rd or the 17th. Halloween is on the 31st. Like the 13th they’re prime numbers.

But if the prime number theory was true, which it isn’t then 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31, 37, 41, 43, 47, 53, 59, 61, 67, 71, 73, 79, 83, 89, 97, 101, 103, 107, 109, 113, 127, 131, 137, 139, 149, 151, 157, 163, 167, 173, 179, 181, 191, 193, 197, 199 and so on… it would be too confusing and silly. Sometimes you just have a bad day.

But mathematics and Templars aside… I have some helpful hints to survive Friday the 13th.

By the time you read this Friday the 13th will almost be over. I have Eleora with me today, so I’m making this quick (like 15 minutes to write this quick.) She is older than the Templars but doesn’t have an opinion on the subject. She just said they were an odd lot of fellows and was suspicious of any group of men who swore to be celibate as part of their club.

A Vampire’s Guide to Friday the 13th

  1. Love a cat. If you need a cat consider adopting a black cat.
  2. Summer is here and people are disgusting. They are hot and sweaty and yucky. Carry a packet of chilled wipes, or a chilled wet wash cloth in a zip lock bag. When you need a bite to eat you’ll have something to wipe off that hot sweaty neck.
  3. Celebrate with a cold goblet of chilled Poet’s Blood on ice with a sprig of rosemary and a dash of good Whiskey.
  4. Cool off in a nice dark movie theater. I recommend the “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” 143
  5. Adopt someone and be their Vampire. Everyone needs a Vampire to help them through life’s scary moments. You can benefit from their blood, and they can benefit from your protection. It is a win/win all around.
  6. Watch a Vincent Price movie and turn the air conditioner up full blast.
  7. Look for the Templar treasure. But don’t bother looking on Oak Island. We all know nothing is there.
  8. Spend time with an Ancient Vampire. They enjoy your company and would love spend some time with you. They might even have some insights on modern superstitions and why people are weird.

Triskaidekaphobia: the fear of the number thirteen.

Have fun. Relax. Stay cool. And as always avoid bad blood.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Moon Rise Walk, Orangevale, CA

Full moon at the end of my street. 

I’ve also added another short Werewolf tale RIGHT HERE. Read it if you want to. This was first posted in 2014.


Strange Strangers on a Full Moon Night

Mars was exceptionally bright in the sky last night. The moon was less than full but still exceptionally bright.

This morning I dropped the kids off to school. Garret’s car is in the shop so mom gets to drive. Anyway, I drop them off behind some temporary classrooms (that have been there for 45 years) because Clara doesn’t want to have to walk by the large group of “Stoners” who hang out every morning at the logical drop off point. So this morning she tells me she over heard one of the Stoners saying “That woman stops and turns around every morning. Weird. I guess she doesn’t want to stay here.” They had no idea I was dropping off kids. Sigh.

So the moon, teens, clueless thoughts… what does that all lead to? It made me think of a distant memory of when my brothers Val, Aaron and I were teens.

Go back to 1873. We lived in a city that had regulairly flooded, burned down, flooded again and survived illness and lawlessness and all sorts of disasters (Sacramento of course.) It was enough to make anyone want to leave, but instead people thrived and it grew. Railroads made kings. Agriculture was starting to boom. It was a city with growing art and culture and the new capitol building was almost finished. But to us it was home and our concerns were not those of adults or even most people. We were teens, comfortable in our own skin, a little less Victorian than most our age, a little more independent than most. My brothers and I lived in a tight knit community of Vampires, part of the Modern Vampire Movement. But you already know that.

One night, under a full moon, my brothers Aaron (age 17), Valentine (age 14) and I (age 13) were taking a stroll along the Sacramento River. We were always out looking for vagrants and activity from any riverboats. We were on the prowl, three well heeled Vampire kids who could use our innocence and charm to get in and out of any situation before our prey ever knew we were there.

With our stomachs full and our dark little souls throughly amused we walked home through a grove of trees on the edge of the riverbank. There we came upon a camp. Two figures were hunched over half a dozen large fish, I believe stripers or maybe steelhead. They grunted and tore at the fish. At first glance we thought they were coyotes or large dogs, but then we realized they were something else.

“Werewolves,” whispered Aaron holding his hand out to signal us to stay still.

We watched in fascination, with a bit of disgust, as the two turned back into their human form – a young man and a young woman. They were about our age and completely naked. He was skinny, unlike my muscular brothers. His skin was pale under the moonlight like the bellies of the fish he’d just devoured. She was also thin with ribs sticking out and knobby joints. Her grayish unhealthy looking skin was covered with red welts. Long dark hair hung below her waist. But what surprised us most was the hairless tail that hung down about 6 inches on the end of her spine.

I elbowed Aaron and he gave me a quick look that said “don’t move.”

“She has a tail,” Val whispered a little too loud. Aaron put his hand over his younger brother’s mouth.

The Werewolves put on their clothes, plain and worn compared to our fashionable togs. We had a home and parents. These two were obviously strays just trying to survive their miserable condition.

Val and I wanted to approach the Werewolves but Aaron was against it. He said we should just let them be and they’d be dead more sooner than later. There was a prominent pack of well-heeled Werewolves in town but we had little to do with them and it was obvious that these strays were not part of their pack.

Occasionally my parents would deal with the Werewolves, but always held them at a distance and with considerable contempt. One thing that stood out about the well to do Werewolves was their fondness for velvet. No kidding. Those Werewolves loved their velvet.

This isn’t going to be a moral story where we went back and helped the young Werewolves. We went back and they were gone. None of our friends had ever seen them. We told our parents about them. In turn they mentioned the strays to the pack leader in town and he had never heard of the young Werewolves.

It was just one of those weird things. Ships that pass in the night.

I asked my friend Adam, who is a Werewolf, about the pair when I stopped by his studio this morning (he is a photographer by trade.) He’d never heard of them. The tail on the girl turned out to be something extremely rare, just like a tail on anyone who is remotely human like.

“Why didn’t you help them?” Of course he had to ask.

“I don’t know. We were just kids. We thought they were dangerous. Beside that, maybe they didn’t need or want help. My parents asked around. Nobody knew anything, or if they did they weren’t telling us about it. I’m talking both Werewolves and Vampires. Nobody knew anything.”

I knew there would be nothing online about them but I after I left Adam I checked anyway. There was nothing.

This story has no moral or reason behind it. Just a story of something that happened a long time ago that I’ll tell my kids about and maybe they can find a moral in it.

It might be a mystery forever. But I have a knack for finding people and things so you never know. You never know about anything, not really.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman


Frogs, Love, and a Rain Swept Night

All night we’ve had thunder, lightning, rain, and hail. Hours later my back deck is still hail. In the creek and field behind my home the frogs are singing with loud clear voices, calling for romance. Pick me! Pick me! Oh let me prove that I am the amphibian of your dreams. Thousands of little frogs, so small that one could be comfortable sitting on a quarter, are belting out love songs as fierce as any Rock-n-Roll idol.

I love the frog music. I love the sound of the rain. I love the thunder and lightning.

In a land where drought is more of normal state of things, a week of storms is a wonderful and magical thing.

Frogs never worry about expressing their love. They aren’t shy like their human neighbors.

My husband sings in the shower. A happy feeling of love always fills my heart when I hear him doing that. He doesn’t know it. And we might be a bit cold blooded sometimes but we’re no frogs.

In 1868 my two older brothers (Max and Andy) were more or less out of the house. That left twelve year old Aaron, nine year old Val, and seven year old me.

We’d read the story of The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County by Mr. Mark Twain, and we’d decided to have our own frog jumping contest.

At the time the city of Sacramento was being torn up in order to raise the streets to protect us from future floods. The railroad was also tearing things up. We didn’t care. In the middle of the night we left our home in search of large frogs. I wore some of Val’s old pants so I wouldn’t have to bother with getting a skirt caught on anything.

Through the mud and dirt three vampire children headed towards the river as the sun set over the distant hills. We could see the light of boats as we took a dirt path down to the water. The passengers waved back at us as we jumped and shouted to get their attention.

Val found some pennies on the beach. I picked up a few clam shells and put them in my pocket. Aaron had forgotten about the frogs and was loudly reciting the battle speech from Richard III (yes, the one from William Shakespeare) as he stood on the edge of the water looking into the sky.

Then we heard the sound of applause and looked up to see a group of men at the top of the embankment cheering on Aaron.

My brother continued his grand speech after which he bowed, and the three of us ran off laughing into the night.

On the way home we looked into windows of businesses and homes, laughing the whole way. We saw cooks, and lovers, gamblers and quiet readers.

When our parents arrived home they found us clean and playing cards. We gave them angelic smiles.

Our mother smiled at us, showing a little bit of her lovely Vampire fangs. “Did you hear the frogs tonight?”

“Yes,” I said, “and tomorrow we’re going to catch our own frogs and have a race.”

“We’ll see about that,” said my mother with wink.

The three of us never did have a frog race, or a frog jumping contest, but we did catch plenty of frogs after that night.

A few years ago I took my own children out to the vernal pool near our house where the seasonal rains create a froggy paradise. It is a regular version of Frog Bachelorette. Or at least it amuses me to think so.

So once again the sun will come through the clouds, and the sounds of birds will replace that of frogs, and maybe even with our feathered friends love will also be in the air.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman





Vampire Diary: In My Youth

Dear Diary,

Who is the man they call Disney?

What magic does he use to lure children to his kingdom? What is this mouse who surrounds himself with princesses? And then there is a tale of a man who eats nuts and mice who dance at Yule time. It is no wonder that children bury their heads in their phones to escape the relentless call of these fiends who prey on children disguised as friendly lovers of animals and happy music.

I was on my front porch trying to get my cats to come inside when a small girl ran down the street with her small dog. Her name is Emily. Most girls are named Emily. I asked this Emily if she knew of the Disney Kingdom and if she had heard of Disney’s princesses.

She said, “Everyone loves the girls in Frozen, or Belle, or Cinderella, but I like Repunzle in Tangled. I like Jasmine too, in Aladdin. Mulan rocks it too. Hey, have you seen Robin Hood the fox? I love that one.”

I told her I had not. She shrugged and ran on with her dog. Then she ran up to me again and said I had to see Finding Nemo. What is Nemo and why does one need to find it? I just smiled without fangs and waved the child on her way.

When I was a child of her age, maybe about nine or ten years old my uncle brought me out to see a show of fire eaters, and men who did slight-of-hand magic. After one produced a monkey who danced, my uncle burned a large group of his rivals alive after impaling them on pointed stakes. Severed heads of men with gaping mouths and sightless eyes were placed on the side of the road as far as the eye could see. My uncle laughed and slapped me on the back. That night I crept into his room and cut out his heart. He looked at me with wide eyes and I told him that he gave my family a bad reputation. My father had told me that reputation was as valuable as an intact soul for a Vampire. I have since learned how right my father was.

My uncle’s daughter, my cousin, was a princess. She told me that she was going to run away with her lover. I told her to go. I told her that I would keep her secret. She looked kind of like the one they call Snow White, only her name was Dashi and her lover was not a singing dwarf, a prince, or a huntsman. He was a Vampire of noble birth who could read, and write. Dashi said she was going someplace where people did not fear Vampires. I told her good luck and laughed like a man. She took her father’s heart and put it in a box, then put the box in a bag and took it with her.  Then I felt bad. I went to the kitchen and drank blood from the arm of one of the girls who helped with the evening feasts. As I lay my cold bloodless cheek against her warm chest she stroked my hair and told me that I had done the right thing. Later my father, realizing I was upset and confused brought me the dancing monkey. I never saw my cousin or the box with my uncle’s heart again. My father was finally King of the Vampires.

Ten years later I controlled the kingdom. But I did not have dozens of princesses. I did not even have a queen. Lovers yes, always, but no princesses. I did not create a cult of children who lived in fear of their step mothers and…how I miss my Baba. She would tell me stories of cunning princesses who cut off the heads of men and drank their blood. These princesses were motivated by revenge rather than romance, but Baba said romance is like a drizzle of honey, or warm fresh blood on a cold winter day.

Why do the children of men fear Vampires so much while their very souls are being sucked out by a mouse? I do not understand.

As for the monkey. He did end up with his own princess. A few years later I gave him to a girl who took me to her bed. It was a fair deal. I turned her into a Vampire. I hear she lives in Seattle. I wonder if she still has the monkey.

~ Vlad


Dear Diary,

I watch as the kitten plays with his mother. He is almost grown now but my love Gillian says he will always be her baby.

I look at Gillian and wonder if perhaps…

~ Vlad


Dear Diary,

Gillian stayed the day with me. As we lay in bed, in the darkened room, I asked her about a childhood memory. She said it was so long ago, but I kissed her neck and told her to remember.

She laughed and told me how she liked to sit with the women who did needlework. When they would prick their fingers on the needles she would lick off the blood. What precious memories my love has.

I saw Emily and her little dog again today. She laughed and waved at me.

“Have you seen the bald eagle?” She was so excited to tell me about this bird.

“No,” I said. “Is is part of the mouse clan?”

“It is real. Right at the end of the street building a nest in the big digger pine tree,” she said with wide eyes. “I can’t bring Rufus down to see her because he’ll bark.”

Then she laughed and skipped away, without a mouse, or a phone, or a princess. She was just a little girl, like little girls who watched birds eight hundred years ago.

I will watch for the mouse. It will not take Emily away to be a princess, or I will have that mouse heart in a box.

I am no longer Vampire King but I will protect my own. That is something I do understand.

~ Vlad


blue cat

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






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.
The Jealousy Game, an Ebook by Mandy White


Vampire Maman’s thoughts on Santa and Kids (and believing in magic)

I saw a blog post titled something like “How to tell your child that there is no Santa.”  WTF???? And there were point by point directions on how to do so. Really? Yes, really.

As a parent I was horrified and disgusted. Who would actually sit down and tell their child that there is no Santa?  Hasn’t that blogger ever watched Miracle on 34th Street? Has she no heart? Is she just plain mean and weird? Does she have no holiday spirit? Is she without imagination? Has she no joy in her soul? Does she have a soul?


Things you sit down and talk to your children about:

  • Sex
  • Drugs
  • Relationships
  • School
  • Responsiblity
  • Reputation


What you DO NOT have A TALK with your kids about:

  • The virtues of no imagination
  • The virtues of no fun
  • The virtues of dullness
  • The virtues of a humorless existence
  • The virtues of boring
  • The virtues of nit picking
  • The virtues of being MEAN


I know, I know, the dark Vampire bitch is coming out tonight…sorry…but you know how it is with me sometimes. I’m a mom. Mom’s have to believe in magic. We have to believe in imagination. We have to believe in FUN. Otherwise why be a parent at all? Right?

Besides ALL Vampires KNOW there IS a Santa. We’re creatures of the night so we’re up all night. We see those reindeer. We see the fat man. We’ve been seeing him for hundreds of years.

Nuff said.


And to all a good night!

~ Juliette

Vampire Kids Say the Darndest Things!

Vampire Kids Say the Darndest Things…

Every Vampire parent has had that call from school about something totally crazy and sometimes scary our little ones have said.

Tessa age 5: “My dad is 160 years old.”

Jake age 5: “My parents drink blood.”

Kat age 6 to a classmate: “When I get old I’ll drink your blood.”

Michael age 6: “My parents are Vampires but that’s ok. They don’t kill anyone. Well, not anymore.”

Devin age 7: “I can see in the dark but I can’t see through clothes or anything like that.”

Lydia age 7: “Real Vampires are nice.”

Pierce age 6: “I won’t get my fangs until I’m 12.”

Rebecca age 5: “We don’t sleep in coffins because we’re not really dead.”

Tasha age 6: “Dracula is somebody a guy made up to make people afraid of my grandparents.”

Nathan age 7: “My dad reads minds and can make women faint.”

Sarah age 5: “My mom used to be human but that was a 100 years ago.”

Then we get the calls from the school suggesting family counseling. We’re asked all sorts of questions about what sort of movies and TV our kids watch. We’re asked about video games and books.

The standard answer for all Vampire parents, since about 1870 has been “I’m sorry. My Uncle Bob fills the kids up with all sorts of stories. I’ll tell him to stop.”  Hey, it works. Blame it on Uncle Bob.

Then we get calls from teachers. Usually frantic.

“Richard is chewing up all the Nerf Balls” What can a parent say? The kid had fangs coming in. He’s teething.

“Gabe was sucking on a squrrel.” Don’t even try to explain that one, just take your kid home and tell him to leave the school yard animals and classmates alone.

“Why pray tell does Tiffany have raw meat in her lunch?” Well, because she wanted to pack it herself.  

“Jason is showing the other kids where their veins are in case they ever find themselves with hungry Vampires.” Jason was 4 by the way. A cute little preschooler if there ever was one. Jason also said it was nice to share with your friends. 

You never know what those cute little stinkers are going to say – so talk to them about what they can and can’t say to regular people and start them early!

Have a lovely night with your Vampire family.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman