Monsters In Love

Love posts for Valentine’s Day

Vampire Maman

Halloween Love Letters

While taking clothes out of the dryer I found a crisp folded piece of notepaper with a note, written with a red Sharpie.

Dear Garrett,
I don’t think you understand how you tear my heart apart. You don’t do anything. You just are. You drive me crazy. You act so cool and I know how you put on a mask. Everyday is Halloween for you.  Stop being so afraid of being yourself. I love you – you idiot.
Ione

Sigh. Seventeen year old Garrett has been writing love letters to girls since he was six years old.  Now girls are writing them to him too. He has known Ione almost his entire life but they just started dating last Spring. If they make it as a couple or not, I’m sure they’ll always be friends – I have a feeling they will (they’re both Vampires.)  So I…

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The Art of Writing Love Letters is Alive and Well (even for Zombies and Ghosts)

In honor of Valentine’s Day I’m posting my most popular love and romance bits today. Enjoy. xoxoxox

Vampire Maman

letters

My brother Val always says “love isn’t a physical thing. It is a meeting of souls. Be it friendship or romantic lovers, it is something we can write about and dream about, but we can never truly explain or define it.”

The Art of Writing Love Letters is Alive and Well (even for Zombies & Ghosts)

The most popular post on this blog is “How to respond to a love letter.”  Really. Seriously, go on Google and look up how to respond to a love letter and it will bring you right back here. Out of the zillion or so things I’ve written on just about every subject everything always circles around back to LOVE.

That is proof that the art of letter writing is not completely dead (YES – real scientific proof)AND romance is still alive and well.

Everyone writes love letters. And that means YOU

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You never know about anything, not really.

“Nothing is certain aside from the fact that we are Vampires, and we are not like the rest of everybody else.”

So my father used to tell us when we were children.

He gave his brood of five (four boys and me) this advice, but also tried to keep us from being clannish, and prevent us from being closed minded when it came to everybody else, be they Vampires, or others. There were more “others” than I ever imagined.

I remember as a child watching in fascination and disgust at the Werewolves who’d walk along the river front in their garish but expensive clothing. They’d smirk and look as if they were going to eat everyone they saw. That was far from the truth. Despite their arrogance they rarely killed anyone while in their wolf form. I later learned that they were sort of pathetic, and sad creatures.

But enough of that. A lot has changed since the 1860’s. Most Werewolves blend in to the point where nobody notices that they’re never around on full moon nights. I mean, really, who would notice?

I’m full of busy today, but I thought I’d take a few moments to re-share a story (first shared her in 2014) of my childhood, about strangers, those who aren’t like us, and Werewolves.

 

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

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diary: Fangs Giving

Dear Diary,
I was sitting at a night club bar and a woman sat down next to me. She asked if I was spending the Thanksgiving day with my family.

“I do not know where my family is,” I said.

Then she asked, because people are always curious, “How about your parents?”

“My father is dead,” I told her.

Then she said, “I am so sorry. What about your mom?”

“I have my mother’s heart,” I told her.

I do have my mother’s heart in a box in an upstairs closet. It is now dried up with a silver bladed knife running through it.

I did not tell her that. I told her, “I have a sister, and maybe a cousin I could find. They might be dead. They might be alive. Who can tell?”

She gently put her warm hand on my arm, “What about grandparents Vlad?”

“My Baba. I am sure she is still alive. My Baba is a fighter. I had a wife once too but it has been centuries since I’ve seen her.”

HA HA HA. For my friend, she thinks centuries means a few years. I have not seen my former wife for five hundred years. That is a lot of centuries.

~ Vlad

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Dear Diary,

Tonight I saw my young friends Brittany and Kate. I can say they are friends. I am happy in their company. I drink their blood. They are happy in their ignorance.

We met at a place with loud music. It was too loud like something out of a nightmare. I offered to take the women home in my car because of the rain. As we drove along dark city streets suddenly the women screamed. I stopped. In front of us a car had hit an animal. It continued on. The women got out of the car and grabbed up a small body and brought it into the car. I wrapped it in my coat.

“It is just a puppy,” cried Kate with rain water and tears running down her face.

“It died,” cried Brittany.

I could not let the women be in so much distress. I am a Vampire and my heart is cold, but it is not made of stone and dirt. “I will bury the beast,” I told them.

When I arrived home, after dropping off the women, I put the small gray body in a box. It was still warm. I suddenly thought of my mother who loved all dogs. I went to the closet and took out the jeweled box that contained her heart.

When I was a young man of only thirteen, my mother vanished. Some said she left with a lover. Some said she was killed by the Vampire Hunter Guillaume Morte. Then one night a box was left at the door of the castle with my name on a tag. Young Vlad. It was written in blood. Not my mother’s, I knew the blood was not hers, but the heart, I knew the heart was hers. My father locked himself in his room for a week in great mourning and refused to look at the heart. He told me to put it away, and say her name only in the dead of night.

“Dear Mother, how I miss you,” I whispered as I pulled the blade out of the dried out heart.

The heart vanished with a wisp of red black smoke. Before me stood an apparition of a woman, not my mother, but a ghost of a young woman I had never seen before.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She glared at me. “Who are you?”

“I am Vlad, King of Vampires. Former Kings of Vampires.”

“My name is Jane. I’ve heard of you. You got locked in that crypt for three hundred years. Bummer.”

“How did you know? You’ve been in this box for centuries.”

“I hear things,” she said. “You know, you’ve been carrying me around forever.”

“I thought that was my mother’s heart,” I exclaimed. I did think it was my mother’s heart. How could I have been so mistaken.

“I’m a Werewolf. You know, silver blade, and all that BS. I swear, I’m still pissed off at those guys for stabbing me and cutting out my heart. Damn it. What the Hell is wrong with people?”

I suddenly had a thought. “I have a dog. It is dead but the body is still warm. You could take that body.”

Jane went over to the small body still wrapped in my coat. “That is no dog.” Then she kissed the pup.

“I do not understand,” I said to the ghost.

The pup stood up and walked to me. Then I realized that this was no dog. It was no wolf. It is an animal I have only seen in North America – a coyote.

“She will be your companion, and your familiar,” said Jane. “Her wild soul has left her body so I left her with a piece of Werewolf soul. Hey Vlad, I normally don’t keep company with Vampires, or even like you guys, but thanks for getting me out of that box and freeing my heart. I gotta go. Have fun.” Then Jane vanished into a burst of opalescent light.

The cats walked in large circles around the pup. “I will call her Jane,” I said to them.

The small pup then squatted and peed on my floor.

~ Vlad

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Dear Diary,

The blood of small children and virgins is highly over rated. It lacks in character and depth.

The great feast of Thanksgiving will be here this week. I must prepare. I know almost nothing of this feast. I watch wild turkeys walk in flocks up my street, but these are not the turkeys who will be consumed along with blood red cranberries, bread soaked with broth and cooked until it is dry, and great quantities of root vegetables, and pies.

I will have the blood of poets. I will have the blood of football players. I will have the blood of strong middle-aged women who rule their homes and make the feasts. Then I will sleep it off.

My neighbors asked my Vampire lover Gillian and me to join them in their feast. Gillian asked what we could bring. Blood of course, but Gillian said no. She is bringing roasted yams with garlic and thyme, and a few bottles of Cabernet. She said we must eat a small quantity of food, then have our blood at home. I told her that I know my manners. I am not uncouth or without cultural sensitivity. It makes me angry that sometimes she treats me as if I am a soul-less Vampire of the shadows who is driven by nothing but blood lust.

I even made a joke, the kind that makes one laugh, but Gillian was not amused. I said we would bring blood pudding and blood sausage to the Thanksgiving feast. She said I was disgusting. I made a joke. It was funny. I told her we could bake black birds in a pie. She rolled her eyes at me. I do not understand women and their lack of humor.

When I go out at night among the humans I hear men speaking to each other about their women. Their women treat them like children, questioning their actions, and telling them to behave and use their manners. They are told not to speak of politics, and sports, and automobiles. They talk of building man-caves to escape. This must be a bad situation if they wish to leave the comfort of their homes to live in caves away from women. I wonder about these caves and what motivates the women to drive their men away.

When I return home Gillian greets me with cold passionate kisses and leads me up to our bed. I think I will not have a man-cave.

~ Vlad

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Dear Diary,

Today, during the day, I walked the wee Were Souled Coyote pup named Jane to the park in my neighborhood. My two cats followed me with their tails up high.

When I arrived I found myself surrounded by the women who were out walking. There are always women out walking at this park. It is what Modern women do. They walk in serious ways alone or in groups. And they surrounded me.

They said Jane the Were Souled Coyote pup and I were so cute. They said the cats were so cute. I am a grown man, almost six feet tall, how I can be considered cute as a six week old pup or cats I still do not understand. The logic of these women is beyond me. What is this cute. I have yet to find an answer that will satisfy me.

I smiled at them, minus my fangs, with a small wink, and show of my dimples. I have found, even centuries back, that my special smile with a wink makes women weak at the knees and in my power.

Chuck who lives around the corner told me that puppies are “chick magnets.” Chicks are women. I did not know that until recently.

The grown women giggled like girls and all wanted to hold the small coyote pup. When they asked what kind of dog she is I told them a German Shepard, Queensland Healer, Husky mix. I know one, in this modern age is not supposed to keep wild animals, even if one is a Vampire, but this pup is no longer all coyote. She has the soul of a Werewolf, and no longer has her wild coyote pack soul. She only has her lone soul. The full moon has just passed, but I will be ready for the next full moon. I wonder what will happen, if anything. Time will tell.

In the meantime I will continue to earn my dinner with a wink and a smile.

And if cute helps I will do that too, whatever cute may be.

~ Vlad

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Kissed by a Vampire

Click here for all of Vlad’s Vampire Diary Adventures.

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Moon

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At 5:30 a.m. the moon sat behind the oak trees, large but hiding from me. I see you.

I imagine the Werewolves were celebrating. We took the dog for a walk. She ran and drank from the fountain at the school down the street. She even kissed a friendly cat who always comes out to greet walkers.

I watched Ghosts dancing in the field under the oaks and the bright moon, with no music except the quiet of the night.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

How to Keep Vampires Away (what REALLY works)

halloween-pinup

 

I can’t imagine anyone wanting to keep Vampires away. But if you do want to keep anyone from sucking your blood (aside from the IRS and DMV) get the facts.

Forget anything you’ve heard about garlic. You’d be surprised how many Vampires live in Gilroy. I have not one, but two jars of garlic stuffed olives in my refrigerator at home. I can’t imagine a lemon vodka Martini without one.

And forget religion. That won’t help you either. Sure you can pray, but a Vampire wants what a Vampire wants. Sure we’re not all that comfortable in churches. We know we’re not altogether welcome, but a cross, holy water, chants, prayer shawls or other items of faith will not keep us away.

Silver will not kill Vampires or keep us away. Holy Thanksgiving Table Setting, what would I do without my set of Kirk & Sons Repousse Sterling Silver, or my silver candle sticks. That is yet another myth. Of course silver bullets will stop a Werewolf, but if you shoot just about anything in the heart with a silver tipped high-explosive incendiary/armor-piercing ammunition they’ll die. Well, unless it is a ghost or a large dinosaur (think T-Rex.)

The silver thing is yet another myth put out by Witches wishing to corner the precious metals and fine candle stick market. Excuse me, if you want precious metals your best bet is always a reputable Vampire.

Sunlight and reflections from mirrors don’t work either. If I look directly into your eyes (or mine) in a mirror I can the reflection just fine. You’ll see it just fine as well. Now if you break a mirror and try to stab a Vampire in the heart with the shard or cut off it’s head, well, that is just rude. Sure we tend to be light sensitive, some of us more than others, but if we’re really hungry it isn’t going to stop us. Then again, is you’re an asshole about it and start flashing light we’re just going to leave because we’re annoyed. Either that or we’ll stay and give you nightmares for the rest of your life.

What REALLY keeps Vampires away?

We all have our personal preferences.

I asked my kids and my daughter said, “Kim Kardisian’s voice would do it for me.” Very funny kids. But true. The man child agreed, then gave a gravely laugh as young men do.

If you’re still worried about Vampires here are the top THREE things that will keep us away.

Vic’s Vapor Rub

Slather the smelly stuff all over your neck and chest. Yes, even the thought of the stuff repels me and makes me want to drop the biggest F bombs of all time. This is the one sure fire way to keep Vampires away. The smell repulses Vampires and the taste…oh it is vile. No Vampire will invade your space or bite you with Vic’s. Then again it will also turn off anyone else who might want to visit you at night.

Werewolves

Dogs won’t keep us away but Werewolves definitely will. They tend to get nasty when one of us comes around for dinner. Sure Vampires and Werewolves can be friendly. I have friends who are Werewolves. But seriously, if a Vampire is looking for blood they will go somewhere else if Werewolves are in the vicinity.

Pregnancy

Vampires DO NOT like the blood of pregnant women. Yes, we’re more accurate than 99.9% of pregnancy tests on the market.

My brother Val, aka Mr. Sophisticated Cool, has a seedier side to his nights. He isn’t above the occasional prowl down to the darker sides of life where there are many more needles than Vampire fangs. He’ll spend a night enjoying toxic cocktails of poisoned blood, but if he finds himself with a pregnant woman’s blood in his system he’ll be puking it up all night long.

Yes, a pregnant woman’s blood makes Vampires sick. Male Vampires become violently ill from the stuff. So if you’re wondering what to expect when you’re expecting – don’t expect Vampires.

 

Now you know. Have fun, and be careful.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

But then there are always those disturbing images you just can't get out of your head.

But then there are always those disturbing images you just can’t get out of your head.