Short Story Sunday: Another Nasty Little Sick and Twisted Vampire Romance

Some of you have seen this before but it is already over 100 degrees F (f_ing hot) outside and my brain is fried, so enjoy. First published her in 2013. ~ Juliette

 

A Man Should Have What He Wants

A house full of books and the ghosts of what could have been.

What can be. Oliver Thomas thought as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He never let himself get close to those he visited over the years. It was easy to become detached just as one could be detached to an apple or a head of lettuce.

She slept quietly. On the nightstand were books, earrings, a clock set for 5:00 a.m., and her glasses. Her husband was snoring and slept in another room. Her children were tucked into their dreams. Oliver made sure of that. They’d all be asleep.

Oliver Thomas kept coming back to her. She was different, by her own accord. Chloe had always been different – the type who saw the world in visions and possibilities. Someone who overcame obstacles. If she grew to be old she’d be a sweet eccentric with her window boxes full of exotic flowers and vast knowledge of the obscure and unusual.

She had a hard time making friends due to her shyness and reluctance to follow up. Her fear of rejection paralyzed her in some areas of her life. Most of life was paralyzing but she seemed to thrive and succeed.

Yet, the woman could light up a room with her wit and charm. She was a success despite her low opinion of herself.

But he’d fallen in love with her in a strange way that someone falls in love with an idea of perfection and the ideal person to share life’s adventures with.

Her teenage kids still hung all over her like toddlers, leaning on her even now. They were taller than she was, dressed in their black band shirts with trendy long hair and black painted nails. Oliver had seen Chloe once, her son with his lanky arm around her shoulder, her daughter with an arm around her waist. How many women, he wondered, envied her for the closeness she had with her children.

If it wasn’t for her children she might have checked out and left the world a long time ago. Since childhood Chloe had been uncomfortable with life and the tremendous effort it took for her to live with herself and her failures.

Oliver saw that Chloe had failed to see her success, except with her children. He didn’t want to think of her marriage with Craig. It worked better than most. In fact, for the most part, her marriage to Craig was an uncommon success.

Craig, the handsome and successful husband, was the love of her life. Even in her dreams Chloe couldn’t cheat on Craig. They’d built a life together. For her that was enough. More than enough she told herself.

But Oliver knew it wasn’t enough. Chloe found her life in others but kept her secret soul and passions locked up, bound in shadows and secrets.

At one time, Oliver and Chloe had been lovers. The memory of her warm skin, her lips on his own, her hands in his hair and her passion haunted him. He’d come and gone from her life assuming she’d always be there.

Now he was only with her in the dream world of the night. She’d remember him in another time and place in long lost memories of centuries past. She’d think she’d had a life in another time with him, a past life of possibilities and promise and passion.

An unlikely candidate this middle aged working mom, too tired and busy to think of herself except when she let her imagination fly as she commuted to school and work in her car each morning, or when she dozed off at night in her own secret places.

The passions were still in her, as it had been when she was young. How could that be? He kissed her then buried his face into her neck and when he’d had enough of her he silently left her with dreams of passion and desire.

The following evening Oliver looked up from his desk and there she was, standing in the doorway. Black dress, apple green sweater, black heels. The blue Coach bag, a 50th birthday present from her husband was slung over her shoulder. She looked she owned the world, but she still didn’t think she was beautiful.

How did she find me here? I never told her where I live?

“Chloe.” He said her name as if in a dream.

“Don’t Chloe me Oliver. I want you to leave me alone.”

He stood and approached her with his hands held out. “It was always the wrong time or place for us.”

She stepped back ignoring his open arms. “Don’t even start with me Oliver. It would have never worked. You always said I was too independent. Then you turned around and called me needy.”

“I never said any of those things.” He was shocked by her accusations.

“You didn’t have to say it. You made it obvious you were thinking it.”

He didn’t respond. This wasn’t the time for the witty dialog they’d shared in the past, the long talks through the night or the sweet lover’s words.

“Chloe, you can’t stand there before me and say that with a straight face.”

She looked at the floor then looked up straight into his eyes. “You never told me you loved me.”

“I didn’t have to.”

“Bull shit. You just expected me to hang around and wait for you to come in and out of my life. It got old Oliver. But it doesn’t matter. I’m married to a man who loves me the way I am. I’m successful, happy and I love my life.”

“I doubt if Craig realizes what a fortunate man he is.”

“He knows.”

“Did you ever tell him about me?” Oliver took a step forward. Chloe folded her arms as if to shut him out.

“I haven’t told anyone about you. They’d all think I was nuts. Just like my Aunt Margaret when she talked about her Vampire.”

“You still love me Chloe.” Oliver said those words quietly with such passion that almost no woman would be able to resist. No woman except Chloe.

She turned and left, slamming the door behind her.

Oliver watched from the window as she got in her car and drove away. The slightest hint of regret surged through his dark thoughts. He’d never meet another who captured his heart and his passions like she had. He’d never meet anyone who made him laugh or feel the joy of being like Chloe had.

Oliver heard the steps behind him but didn’t turn around. A warm hand caressed his shoulder.

“Is she gone?” The speaker was obviously annoyed.

“Yes.”

“Does she have any idea I’m here?”

“No.”

Craig looked out the window. “Good. Where do we go from here?”

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

“My son is an Emo freak who acts in plays and writes poetry for fun. My daughter won’t talk to anyone unless it’s a text. My wife is never going to lose the baby fat or stop telling stupid jokes or snoring or complaining how hard she works. This wasn’t what I signed up for.”

“I understand.”

“Just for once I want what I want. I don’t want to go home to a woman who is tired all the time and can’t even comprehend my needs.”

“What about your children? You must care about them on some level.”

“They’ll be fine without me. Chloe will have two million dollars in life insurance to get the kids through college. There’s another 10 million in assets she can sell off if she has to. She’ll make sure her children have wonderful memories of me.”

“The news of your death will break her heart.”

Craig scowled at Oliver. “Chloe is already so miserable she won’t even notice. She’ll be happy to be the unfortunate widow and bask in the glow of her own sorrow. I’m doing her a favor by dying rather than divorcing her.”

“And your girlfriends?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re whores who think they can get ahead by sleeping with the CEO. They’ll both get their pink slips next week. So now what?”

Oliver went back around to his desk and sat in the antique leather chair. “Your car will be found in the river and it will be assumed your body was washed away with the currents. Your wallet and a few clothing items will be found washed up on a beach. It will be assumed that you died.”

“So when do I change?”

“Change?”

“When do I become like you? A Vampire.” Craig asked this impatiently almost sounding like a spoilt teen.

Oliver took a deep breath and answered him. “Tonight if you want, but I’d rather wait until tomorrow.”

Craig leaned on the desk close to the Vampire. “I want this Oliver. I want my freedom.”

“You’ll get what you want Craig.”

“Oliver, I’m telling you…”

Craig started to speak but Oliver held up his hand. “We’ll take my jet to Rome in the morning. By the time we get there you’ll be a different man. The old Craig will be gone forever. In the meantime, you need to see your children one last time.”

Chloe sat in the high school auditorium waiting for the play to start. A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Her son played Lysander.

Craig had called earlier to tell her he was working late. He’d been sorry to miss the play but said he’d see it on closing night next weekend. She thought she was going to throw up. She pulled out her phone and listened to the message she’d received right after she’d seen Oliver.

A sing song girlish voice said “Chloe this is Trinity, Craig’s assistant. I wanted to let you know that I’ve been sleeping with your husband for about two years. He asked me to do all those crazy nasty fetish things you wouldn’t do and I would do anything for him. I really really loved him and would have done anything at all for him but he dumped me for Tara Hall. She’s like the VP of Marketing. They’ve been doing it since October so he was two timing on me too. Stupid puke. So when he says he is gone on business he’s really with her. I just thought you’d want to know because you seem like a nice lady.”

It was the fifth time she’d listened to it. Each time she’d hoped she’d heard it wrong but that wasn’t the case.

A text came in from Craig saying he had a change of plans and was on his way.

Concentrate. Don’t think about him. It isn’t true. He’ll be here any minute. Don’t cry.

The house lights went down and the play started.

Oliver Thomas stood on the side of the river and watched the emergency crews on the opposite shore drag out a sliver convertible, the headless body of the driver still strapped in the seat. Some unfortunate member of the police department would find sightless eyes attached to a severed head staring up at him from the floor of the passenger seat.

Witnesses said the car had suddenly gone out of control, like the driver was trying to avoid hitting something. The convertible rolled and went into the water. It had been too dark to get any useful details.

Craig wanted to be free of his wife and children. A man should have what he wants after all.

Now Oliver would do it right. He’d wait a few months, he had time and he’d be there for Chloe and her children, like he should have been all along.

 

~ End

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

(first posted April 2013)

 

Tangled Tales

 

Death, Ghosts, and Pokemon Go

Like everyone else, my kids are playing Pokemon Go. In case you’ve been somewhere else, like on another planet or Albania, Pokemon Go is an application you download to your phone. Thanks to a partnership of some sorts with Google Maps, you can find Pokemon critters everywhere. There are hot spots to collect goodies and balls to capture the creatures. There are gyms where they can fight each other. Parks, schools, churches, and murals are all hot spots for a lot of activity. We even found one in our house yesterday.

Of course there are going to be snarky critics who don’t understand the attraction to this game. Screw em. It is a GAME. It is FUN. I’ve had fun watching it bring parents and their teens together.

This is the link to the official web site: http://www.pokemongo.com/en-us/explore/

A quote from the site:

Get up, get out, and explore!

Get on your feet and step outside to find and catch wild Pokemon. Explore cities and towns where you live – and even around the globe  – to capture as many Pokemon as you can. As you walk through the real world, your smartphone will vibrate to let you know you’re near a Pokemon. 

It goes on to tell the players that there is a lot of activity in public sites. One place where there is a lot of activity is cemeteries.

As you know, my kids and I like to visit old cemeteries for various reasons. It isn’t because we’re Vampires. Contrary to popular horror movie culture we don’t live in crypts or in rotting coffins under the ground. Yes, occasionally someone ends up there, but not too often anymore. But that isn’t what this post is about.

Yesterday I was out and about with my kids (ages 17 and 20) when one of them mentioned we were near a cemetery with a lot of activity. So of course at the light I pulled into the parking lot.

I have to admit that I had never been to this particular grave yard, only minutes from my home. It was founded in 1855, four years before I was born. Most of the old grave markers are now flat on the ground, having been broken over the years, and then repaired by no doubt loving hands. Several of the markers and statues are marked by Pokemon activity.

As we walked along exploring the stones we forgot about the game, and started to speculate on the names and the stories.

Unlike many modern cemeteries this one had a mix of flat markers, and traditional larger tombstones. Many had images of hobbies, activities, and occupations. Old and new were mixed together with no real pattern.

Less than a mile away in the old Catholic cemetery we once found a marker for a child who passed away at the age of eight. She would have been forty this year had she been alive. Her stone was in the back by a fence, alone, dusty, all alone. I still wonder about her. No ghost sits on her grave to give us answers.

In this cemetery by the lake, the same lake that borders my neighborhood, there are few ghosts out during the day. It was quieter there than most places of rest.

Anyway, to make a short story even longer…

In the back, near the back fence border, I was attracted to a stone with a portrait on it, and the colorful large headstones near it. I found myself in an entire section of young people. Not babies, but people who’d been in their teens and early twenties. They were Millennials. These were all recent, in the past few years.

One stone, the one that first attracted me, had a message from a twenty year old man’s parents. It said, We will never forgive ourselves for not being able to save you. It broke my heart.

All of the stones had pictures on the headstones of sports, animals, and hobbies, and stories, and portraits and photos of the kids. It was the saddest place in the world. Teens aren’t supposed to die. And here I was with my children, who are in the same age group. It was so random. So sad. They were all there together in the back, near the edge of the lake, where young people hang out.

If was as if they were calling us over to say, “don’t forget us.”

It was odd how a game that is played by young people brought us to such a place.

On the way back across to where I’d parked we saw other stones and speculated on lives that once were. The place was dotted with tiny stones of children who’d come and gone before their first birthday, or first day of school. Yet none of them seemed alone, between the larger graves.

In Chico there is a cemetery with a large children’s area. It is a sad wasteland with no grass or trees, slapped in a sunken area that nobody else would want. Tiny markers with lonely lambs sit in the hot sun, and the cold rain, all alone.

Some say that Vampire infants, those tiny beings born to Vampires parents, steal the souls of dead children. Rest assured it isn’t true.

Last night we had a boisterous night at home with a lot of laughing and joking around. Today there was more searching for tiny creatures in our smartphones.

My brother Andy was over and smiled at our adventures. His strong distaste for ghosts keeps him out of cemeteries, and he doesn’t use his smartphone for anything but phone calls and the occasional text, but he did have some suggestions for an app my son and his friends are developing. It is for Vampires looking for good places to dine. It sounds like a great idea, but for this summer I think I’ll stick to finding tiny imaginary Japanese creatures with my phone, but not without a touch of sadness.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

My Vampire Dad

This is an old post, one of the first on this blog, but it is filling for today. It is Father’s Day so I won’t have time to write a short story for “Short Story Sunday.” I’ll make it up to you later. xoxo

Vampire Maman

It ran after me through the woods. We’re not invincible like regular humans try to make us out to be. We’re a lot more fragile and vulnerable than anyone knows. The brush scraped my bare arms, I couldn’t breathe. The wound in my neck had reopened. Falling to my knees I held my throat…

I bolted up on my bed. My daughter was curled asleep against my side in a coma like state (like most kids her age, she sleeps like a log). My son Garret was in the window seat reading.

“You ok mom?”

“I don’t know.” I told him, putting my hand to my neck. It was hot to the touch. I felt like someone had hit me across the neck and head with a baseball bat.

My eye went to the dresser where a large exquisitely beautiful flower arrangement took over the room. I could smell the…

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Tag Hash

taghash_ancient-rome

“It is called Tag Hash. You add stuff as you go, as in tagging it on to the end,” explained the ancient Vampire Tellias. “I learned to cook in Rome, when I was a much younger Vampire than I am today. Tiberius was emperor at the time. God, that was a strange time. Fun if you were on the top of the food chain like I was. They thought I was a demigod. Oh, I had my share of torrid adventures. Nothing I’d recommend either one of you try, but it was fun.”

Tellias pulled out a large cast iron skillet then rooted around his kitchen for various knives and bits of food. Vampires don’t eat a lot of regular food but we do, from time to time. One can’t live on blood alone.

With his white blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a red apron over a tuxedo shirt with a thousand little tucks and blue plaid pants he was quite the dashing cook. He looks all of 19 years old but Tellias is as ancient as modern civilization and much more civilized. My 15 year old daughter Clara and I were visiting and chatting and having a lovely time in large Victorian kitchen.

Tellias talked as he cooked. “We made Tag Hash back then too. I believe I’ve had this made with everything from chopped mouse to wolf to mussels. Once a group of superstitious soldiers even added the body parts of slain heroes. A bit of human heart or liver that made the soldiers feel special. It wasn’t very good, in fact it was horrible and a bit disturbing, but they thought they were stronger after eating it. Anyway, people used to do all sorts of nasty things. They still do. So, where was I? Tag Hash. Ingredients come and go with fashion but everyone likes to add bits and pieces together and think they have something special. Sort of like a romance – all bits and pieces.”

Tag Hash

He took a few mushrooms and chopped them up, then grated a carrot and a few squash he’d picked that morning. After that he added finely slivered onion and shallots to the mix and a bright red bell pepper. He chopped a small mountain of spinach and Swiss chard together. Throwing in a bit of thyme, salt and pepper he mixed everything in a bowl with a hand full of chopped oysters, some raw steak thinly sliced steak and a slash of white wine.

Next he took out some thick smoky bacon and cut about 8 pieces into small bits and threw them in the cast iron skillet to fry. He said he never cooked the pieces whole. It was easier this way and much more fun.

Throwing a bit of olive oil and a hint of grape seed oil in the pan he added the chopped ingredients and flattened them out.

“One must wait a bit to make sure everything browns.” He said with a sly smile, and then flipped the crispy hash over. Then he cracked a few eggs on the top and left them to cook.

When it was brown on both sides and the whites of the eggs had cooked, he moved it to three plates and we proceeded to the table. He sprinkled a bit of chopped tomato and green onion on top for color and a little zest. The vegetables were tasty, the oysters were done to perfection and the steak was rare.

The dish was served with Bloody Marys (made with real blood of course), and Clara had some spiced Poet’s Blood.

It is a dish that is served different every time because it is Tag Hash – just tag things onto it until you get it like you want.

“I like to fix this around Halloween.” continued Tellias. “I add pumpkin and winter squash with a bit of sweet potato. It adds a delicate sweetness without processed sugar. If I was a Witch I’d add small children, monkey balls and bat eyes, but I’m not a Witch. Luckily none of us are Witches or Warlocks. You have to watch out for them. Always question what they’re cooking, or better yet don’t dine with them at all.”

Long long ago his wife had been involved with a couple of Warlocks so Tellias never trusted any kind of Witch. Come to think of it none of us really trust them or like to spend much time with them. They’re as creepy as Ghosts as far as I’m concerned and far weirder and one can never trust a Witch. Never.

I wouldn't recommend eating ANYTHING a witch serves you. Just smile and say you have a stomach flu or better yet, run away.

I wouldn’t recommend eating ANYTHING a witch serves you. Just smile and say you have a stomach flu or better yet, run away.

We didn’t have any left over Tag Hash but we had some left over hash tags: #taghash, #hashtag, #vampirecooks, #vampiremaman, #modernvampires, #Tellias, #ancientvampires. I’m not sure what to do with them but we’ll figure it out before they go bad.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Short Story Sunday: Date with a Vampire

Part 7 in The Hunter series

 

Date with a Vampire

 

Austin showed up at Elizabeth’s door at 8:00 sharp. She opened it before he knocked.

She let him in, and they stood in the entryway looking at each other, eye to eye for what seemed like an eternity. He then took her hands, first his fingertips touching hers, cold to warm, then their hands entwined. Neither of them spoke.

He smiled. No fangs. All the other guys she dated lately had long sexy fangs. He had something else. Austin had warmth.

“Let’s go,” he said. He’d wanted to say, “Let’s go upstairs,” but he could wait. “You look beautiful tonight. I expected black. You’re wearing green. It looks good on you.” He opened the car door for her and went around to the drivers seat after she got in.

It was Second Saturday, the night that all the art galleries, shops, clubs and restaurants were open downtown. They’d walk around, talk a little, have a cocktail. Maybe fool around a little. Let her bite my neck. What am I doing with her he thought to himself. Damned if I’ll let her bite my neck.

He started the conversation. “I saw a bowl of fruit in your house. You eat real food sometimes don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. I’m kind of hungry right now. You know, for real food. I just don’t eat a lot of sweets. So um, you know, midnight pie at a diner wouldn’t work for me, but I do drink coffee. I’d have coffee at midnight if you really want pie.”

“How about Quiche. You know it’s sort of like an egg and cheese pie.”

“Sure, if it has bacon in it.”

“Is that a Vampire thing? The bacon?”

“No, it’s a bacon thing. I like bacon. Everyone likes bacon. Even vegans like bacon.”

He laughed out loud.

“So Elizabeth, how often do you drink blood?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her brow furrowed a bit. “Three or four times a week.”

“Is that fresh or from a bottle?”

“Fresh if I can get it, schedule permitting. I get more than blood from others.”

“Life force?”

“Sure, if you want to call it that.”

“Interesting. Was it difficult when you started getting blood from people?”

“Not really, I had a good teacher. It sort of just came naturally for me.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable with my questions?”

“I don’t know. Not really, but a little bit. I don’t know you that well and,” she looked away then looked back at him, “you’re a Vampire Hunter.”

“I’m a historian and contractor who happens to have special talents when it comes to exterminating unwanted Vampires. I guarantee you are not an unwanted Vampire.”

“Oh Good. Does that make me a wanted Vampire?”

Oh yes, he wanted her in the worst way, but the way she looked at him gave him chills. He ran over a curb turning into the parking space.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosey,” he told her, trying to recover.

She smiled showing a flash of her fangs. “Liar.”

He smiled a movie star smile and shrugged. She thought her blood would suddenly turn hot. “Elizabeth, I have to tell you, half of my clients are Vampires. I also get rid of unwanted creepy Vampire Hunters, or at least discourage them from ever coming around again.”

“That’s a comforting thought.” She smiled at him, a shy smile this time.

They walked to the restaurant and ordered drinks and appetizers. A Tanqueray and tonic for him with an extra wedge of lime, a Grey Goose vodka martini with two olives for her, mussels steamed in wine paired with calamari drizzled with a roasted red pepper and lemon sauce.

They talked of local artists who’s work they were both familiar with and favorite galleries and shops.

He noticed that she ate in small bites and sipped her drink rather than gulped it. Everything about her movements was perfect and inviting, yet there was shyness about her. She could kill him in a moment without thinking about it. She could drain his body of blood. She could make him go insane.

Maybe she would make him go insane but in a different way, the way a normal woman could make a man go insane. Time would tell. Right now he didn’t care, or at least didn’t want to ponder the risks. He was too smart to let her get the upper hand if things ever got out of control.

He looked around the room. Nobody there would ever imagine she was a Vampire. She looked like an attractive woman out with her man. A normal woman of a normal age. He remembered the reaction of the people in the hospital the first night he’d met her. Her stomach was full of his blood. She had almost no pulse or blood pressure. The doctors thought she would die. He knew her symptoms were just normal readings for a Vampire. It was insane. They’d met in a bar. He took her to an old house he was restoring. They were attacked by ghosts and they both passed out and woke up in the hospital. Then he asked her out on a real date, and here they were. He couldn’t remember more than 15 minutes when he hadn’t thought of her.

Elizabeth reached over and took his hand. Her fingers were cold, her eyes hot. “Let’s go back to my house.”

 

Austin woke to the sound of birds and the smell of coffee. He slipped his arm from around Elizabeth and wandered downstairs. She’d set the coffee machine the night before. A note was on the table telling him that cream was in the refrigerator if he needed it. She’d drawn a heart under the words.

He poured coffee in two black glossy mugs and went back upstairs. The sensations of the night before still ran through his body. He put the coffee down on the nightstand and put his hand to his neck. Nothing. She didn’t take his blood. Just everything else he thought. She was…amazing.

Crawling back in bed he put his arm around her and nuzzled her neck. She didn’t respond. Brushing her hair off of her face he said her name. Then he checked her breathing and pulse. There was nothing. No signs of life. The woman he’d made love to just a few hours before was ice cold.

“Elizabeth. Baby. Elizabeth wake up.”

Nothing. He checked her eyes. Still nothing. Panic set in. She was dead.

The phone. He had to get his phone. It was in the pocket of his pants on the floor. He put it next to the pillow. Austin rolled Elizabeth to her back and tilted her head back.

His mouth went to hers. Before he could take a breath her arms went around him. He pulled back and gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth looked surprised.

“I thought you were dead.”

Then he looked at her for what seemed a long long time. She met his eyes, locking in on him.

“Austin, I’m a Vampire. Remember?”

He lay back on the pillow next to her. Holy mother of God he’d spent the night with a Vampire. What the Hell was he doing? Closing his eyes he tried to clear his brain and turn back into the logical in control man he was.

“I used to be like you Austin. If I’d been with you then my heart would be beating fast and you would have taken my breath away.” She took his hand and brought it to her neck. “Do you feel it?”

There was a faint slow pulse under his fingers. “You make my heart beat. You make me feel alive.”

With that he kissed her knowing that there was no turning back for either one them.

 

To be continued…

 

For the complete story of Austin and Elizabeth check the links below.

Part 1: The Hunter

Part 2: A Memory of Distant Love

Part 3: Dark Dreams of the Hunted

Part 4: About Those Pesky Undead Folks

Park 5: The Hunt Continues

Part 6: Cold and Warm

 

Vampire Love

For more short stories don’t miss the best selling story collection Morning at the Vineyard.

 http://www.amazon.com/Morning-Vineyard-Collection-Tangled-Tales-ebook/dp/B00M4V1DGI

 

 

So you’ve fallen in love with a Vampire…

traditional vampire

 

Falling in love with a Vampire can suck. It bites. Vampires will leave you cold and in the dark. A Vampire lover will leave you drained and feeling dead inside.

All puns aside, it isn’t a good idea. For the most part, ok for all part, Vampires are cold-blooded predators. Sure we’re sweet and charming and fun to be around, but the embrace of a Vampire is dangerous place to trust your heart and soul. Well, of course unless you ARE a Vampire then the arms of a Vampire is the perfect place to be.

If you’re alive, I mean, a Regular Human, and if you’re lucky, a Vampire lover will leave you feeling the most alive you’ve ever felt. You’ll feel like you want to live forever. Your Vampire lover will fascinate you in every way imaginable.

Proceed with caution, for that good feeling will become like the highest high you’ve ever felt. The cold touch of your Vampire lover will be like the worst of the worst of addictive drugs. It will be both the beginning and the end of you. Then again, sometimes it can be just a normal strange relationship. It depends on how strong both parties are and what the end game is for both parties.

 

A couple of years ago my son, then 16, wrote the following:

 

One day we’ll part,

In different worlds,

Not so different,

Not the same,

You’ll have change,

I will stay the same,

You’ll have wonder,

I will stay the same,

You’ll have wisdom,

I will see the wonders of the ages,

Except that I will miss you,

My heart a broken mess.

 

Kind of breaks your heart. I mean, it broke my heart.

Vampires also become attached to humans, especially the young and new. We love knowing that things will change. We won’t change much but everyone else does.

There are those who keep their hearts cold to the warm-blooded kin, but that makes for a dull existence lacking the richness one gets from the company of others who are different and alive (so to speak.)

Sometimes we just can’t help it. I mean, can anyone help who they fall in love with? My own brother Andy spent 40 years with a woman who died a natural death, old for her time. She never allowed him to change her. He never left her. She knew the risks but also the rewards of loving a Vampire. Andy still speaks of her. It is heart breaking but at the same time, I am rewarded in the knowledge that they found real love. But what the found was rare. It was rare for anyone.

Then again, let me muse here a bit, falling in love with a Vampire carries risk. Let me tell you the risks.

  • Vampires rarely return the love
  • Vampires see you as a food source
  • Vampires take what they want, when they want
  • Vampires don’t always give back
  • Vampires are temperamental and moody
  • Vampires have friends you won’t be safe around
  • Vampires don’t willingly let you into their world
  • You will always be an outsider
  • You might die in the arms of your lover from blood loss, or alone in a back alley.
  • And you could return undead, without a soul of your own, a shadow in the dark.
  • Or you could end up like your Vampire lover and be part of his/her life for centuries, but that rarely happens. Rarely. More than likely you’ll still get dumped and find yourself in a strange world all alone. It is just all in a day’s work for a Vampire.

 

Most who fall for a child of the night don’t even know it. We haunt the day but come alive at night. We’re the ultimate romantics and party animals. What is there not to love. 99.9% of the time a Vampire won’t give away her secret. A Vampire will never tell you what he is. But I suppose to some extent a lot of relationships are like that.

I guess it could be worse. You could fall in love with a Werewolf, or even worse…a Ghost.

Love with your heart, freely and truly but please, be careful. Be smart. Be alive.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman 

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