Vampire Morsels – Benjamin

As I prepped my notes for work on Ties of Blood, I noticed that I have a lot of side characters who, for one reason or another, don’t get any “me” time.  so, I’ve decided to remedy that in a collection of short stories called…


(You can find Benjamin in Shades of Gray. This particular story takes place in 1972)

The Roockwood Inn was a roadside motel. The town around it had once been vibrant, but was looking forward to its demise. Somehow, the occupants hadn’t caught on yet, and still thought they had a corner on the tourist market. Even Benjamin seemed to think so.

The motel office was newly retiled, but no one had bothered to repaint. Behind the counter stood a doorway, closed off by a tatty blanket that served as a curtain. The smell of whisky and stale cigar smoke oozed out around the edges and left the office ceiling stained a permanent brown.

Through that door was a room as disheveled as its occupant. Though Benjamin called it his “living space” it was really a jumbled, windowless room with a dusty bathroom off to one side. There actually were windows, but they were hidden behind layers of cardboard, newspaper and masking tape. He was planning to renovate as soon as he got the money saved up, and when he did, the windows were going. Mei, the Chinese girl who looked after the place in the daytime and served as a part time housekeeping, couldn’t understand why he wanted rid of them. She argued more than once to save them, but he only shook his head and said the sun was bad for his complexion.

Benjamin sat in his usual spot. The ratty arm chair smelled like it should have been left on the curb, and looked like maybe it had been. The TV was as close to his lap as he could get it without having to hold it, so that he had one foot propped up on the table on either side of it. He watched the screen with an absorption born of years of television viewing and didn’t even seem to hear the first knock.

“Goodnight, John Boy. Goodnight, Grandpa. Goodnight-“

Benjamin clicked the knob and the television went off with a hiss and fizz of static. He cocked his head to one side and listened. The knocking was repeated.

“Who the hell is that?” he demanded, but the stale air didn’t answer him. There was only one way to find out. Using obscenities like booster fuel, he heaved his bulk from the chair and shuffled towards the side door. He had to stop and kick boxes of empty whisky bottles out of the way. No one used this door anymore, or at least no one was supposed to.

They knocked again and he grumbled a loud, “yeah, yeah,” as he unbolted the locks and jerked the door open.  The outside light was burnt out, but he could still see the two figures, their expressions carefully neutral.  The one in the front had short, cropped hair and dark skin, while his companion was a slender, willowy male with a reddish auburn mane. Benjamin surveyed them both and then demanded, “Eh? What do you want? Can’t you read that sign?”

“What sign?” asked the dark one.

“The one that says ‘use office door’!” Benjamin barked.  “You want a room, you go around!”

“We’re not here for a room,” the visitor purred. Then, he smiled, flashing a pair of silvery fangs. Benjamin drew back a step, and the visitor took advantage of it and was quickly inside, his companion on his heels. “You know what we came for.”

Benjamin met the dark vampire’s eyes. They stared at one another; a contest of wills, and then Benjamin declared, “Look here, poker night’s Thursdays, Des.”

There was a moments silence and then Des rolled his eyes. “It is Thursday, old man. Check your calendar.”

They stepped smoothly around their baffled host and headed for the couch.  Des tossed a week’s worth of mail out of the way and took its place. Benjamin trailed after them, ticking off the days of the week in his head. Thursday? It’s not Thursday – wait. The Waltons was on. Damn. The son of a bitch is right.

The bell over the office door tinkled, and with a few healthy curses Benjamin diverted himself in that direction. It wasn’t customers though, just Herrick and a bald guy that Benjamin didn’t recognize. Two strangers in one night. Ah well, their money spends the same.

He led them through the blanketed door and pointed in the general direction of the couch and some folding chairs. They seated themselves while he set up the card table and gathered up the cards, an overflowing ashtray, half a bottle of whisky and a beat up metal bucket that smelled like alcohol. Finally, he tugged his tatty chair into place and dropped into it.  “We ready to play, or is there anyone else comin’ I should know about?”

“Nah, this is it.” Des shuffled the cards with a little too much expertise. “By the way, this is Marcellus. I said last week that I was bringing him.”

Herrick nodded, but Benjamin just shrugged. “Eh. If you say so.” His eyes landed on Herrick’s companion; a bald vampire who had a tattoo down one side of his face. “And who’s this?”

“Micah,” Herrick explained, as if the name meant something. “He’s what you’d call a new recruit.”

Benjamin lit a cigar and blew put a cloud of thick smoke. “That’s just what we need.”

“You’re not so far past new recruit yourself there, old man.” Des commented.

Benjamin snorted an answer and took a healthy swig of whisky. He swooshed the amber liquid around his mouth thoughtfully. He’d been one of them for damn near two years, now. That was enough time to lose the new recruit status as far as he was concerned.

Des dealt the cards and Benjamin spat the whisky noisily into the bucket.  Marcellus cringed visibly, and Des shrugged. “I warned you he has some pretty bad habits.”

“Just because I can’t drink don’t mean I can’t still taste it,” Benjamin grumbled. “You got a problem with it…” he left the sentence unfinished, but the meaning was clear and it went something like “get the hell out, then.”

Micah fanned his cards casually. “I wondered how you planned on drinkin’ that. I learned the hard way that doesn’t work out.”

“Got sick, did you?” That was a mistake they said most newbie vampires made. Hell, he’d made it himself. You could get the stuff down, but you couldn’t keep it down. It was the same as when a kid swallowed something out of the cleaning cabinet.  Your body knew it wasn’t good for you and sent it back where it came from.

“Fuck, yeah.” Micah offered a toothy grin. “That was one helluva night, though. A couple of ladies, a bottle of scotch and a jar of honey.”

Herrick surveyed his cards, his brow wrinkled. “Honey? What was the honey for?”

Micah’s grin widened. “If I gotta tell ya’, then it takes the fun out of it.”

“For the girls,” Benjamin explained. “But sounds full a shit to me. This loser couldn’t get two chicks if he waved money in front of their faces.”

Micah cocked an eyebrow. “How would you know? Bet the last time you even saw a chick was in 1965.”

Benjamin ignored him and went on. “I get losers like him in here all the time. They show up on the make with a couple of stoned out girls and act all macho. Nine times outta ten they pass out in a puddle of their own puke in the john.”

Micah opened his mouth to argue, but Marcellus held up his hand. “Is an evening of negativity necessary? Let’s just play cards.”

“Negativity?” Micah snorted. “You sound like one of those dali-lama-guru Buddha heads. We here to play poker or talk about the meaning of the universe?”

“We could do both,” Herrick suggested. “As long as someone else deals.” He glared at Des who only snickered. Knowing him, he’d dealt the cards on that way on purpose.

But, Benjamin’s hand wasn’t half bad. He traded in two cards and quipped, “There’s no meaning to the universe. It just is.”

“I disagree.” Marcellus fished a wad of money out of his pocket and counted out the opening bet. Benjamin tried to mentally calculate how much he had on him, but he wasn’t fast enough before the money was stuffed back into his pocket. “There must be meaning, or else there wouldn’t be organization.”

“You see any organization around here?” Micah waved his arm to indicate the room. “It’s just like us. There’s no order, or reason, it’s just chaos and you pretend there’s a plan behind it to keep yourself sane.”

“Us?” Des asked, as he counted out his own money under the edge of the table.

“Yeah, us. You know, vampires.” Micah rolled his eyes. “If nothing else, we’re proof that it’s all just random shit.”

“I disagree,” Marcellus said again. “Our very existence proves that there is order beyond the seeming insanity of the cosmos. You can’t imagine that we, as a species, just appeared by accident? We were crafted for a particular purpose.”

Micah folded his cards, the game momentarily forgotten. “What, like the next evolutionary step? You don’t buy into all that monkey crap?”

Des glanced up from his cash. “How can you argue against both evolution and intelligent design?”

“Because I ain’t from no ape. You can be if you want to-”

Marcellus cut him off. “No, we’re not the next evolutionary step. Vampires have been in existence since the dawn of creation. As old as man, if not older. And that is the proof of the design, and the proof against the chaotic evolution theory. If it was all an accident that hurtled forth from chimpanzees to modern man, then why has the vampire not changed, too?”

“Maybe they have?” Herrick suggested. “It isn’t like there’s anyone from that time left.”

“And how do we know that? Because you haven’t seen one?” Marcellus eyes shone with some kind of victory and he folded his cards as though settling in for a long discussion. “When was the last time you saw the sun? But you still know it exists.”

Benjamin didn’t bother to comment or interrupt. He just took an impatient swig of whisky, swished it around his mouth, and spit it loudly into the bucket. It failed to get their attention.

“That’s different. I’ve seen the sun,” Herrick argued.

“When? How do you know you really saw it and don’t just think that you did?”

“And how do you know that any of us are real?” Des added, amused. “Maybe we’re all just figments of a hamster’s imagination.  Enough existential stuff, huh? Whose bet is it?”

“I bet I can prove who’s real,” Micah said with a broad grin. “Gimme your arm and we’ll see if you feel this.” He snapped his teeth together in imitation of a savage bite.

Marcellus smiled tolerantly, but made no move to return to the game. “Pain is only an illusion and proves nothing.”

“It can prove that your god damn foot’s been cut off!”

“No. First there is the pain and then you look and see that your foot is cut off, so the pain proves nothing, only draws your attention.  However, there’s no evidence that what you see is real beyond your own experience, or that your reality and mine are the same experience at all.”

“Memories are like that,” Herrick agreed slowly, drawn in despite himself. “One person may remember that it rained, while another says ‘no, no, the sun shone’.”

“Exactly.” Marcellus tapped his cards on the table.  “Each has a separate reality that is just as true to them as the opposite is to the other.  If reality is not to be trusted to the eyes or the senses, then that leaves us with only the emotion.”

“Ah, but emotion is nothing but an illusion, too,” Herrick argued, getting into the swing of things. “It is true that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.  However, your actions don’t necessarily correspond to their feelings. If I pick up this bucket.” He seized the bucket and Benjamin made a low, warning noise in his throat. “-and I toss it out the door, you may feel relieved to be get a break from the alcohol regurgitation, however, Benjamin will be mad enough to break my nose. To him, my actions are evil, but to you they were merciful. Meanwhile, the reality is that I neither planned to make him angry, or spare you, I simply acted.”

Benjamin jerked the bucket away and snarled. “Yeah, yeah. And there’s no ‘I’ in team. Can we get on with this, or should I kick the whole bunch of you out?”

“Your friend doesn’t like a thought provoking discussion?” Marcellus asked Des, half joking.

“No,” Benjamin answered for him. “I don’t.  I like to watch TV, which is what I was doing before I got interrupted by a bunch of idiots who wanted to play poker. Only, we haven’t done much playing yet! So either get with it or I’m gonna go watch Ironside.”

The conversation died down after that.  The cards were dealt, the bets were placed and by two am they were all sick of each other’s company. Micah and Herrick made their excuses first, followed shortly by Marcellus. Alone, they counted their money, and then Benjamin moved the furniture back while Des lounged on the couch.

“I assume you didn’t like Marcellus?”

Benjamin kicked an argumentative folding chair and shrugged. “Eh. I don’t care either way. He loses pretty good. So long as he shuts up and plays his cards.”

Des nodded and they lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Finally, he broke it. “You don’t suppose there really is some intelligent design behind everything? That there’s some kind of fate that made us all what we are?”

Benjamin rolled his eyes and plopped into his armchair, now restored to its rightful home in front of the television. “How should I know? It was a trucker woman with eyes like coal and nails as red as blood that made me what I am.” He glanced to the darker skinned vampire. “And I can’t say what made you the way you are, now, but I doubt it was God.”

“No,” Des agreed. “It was my mother.” He fell silent again, and Benjamin turned the television on. The stations were off for the night, so there was nothing but static. They sat there, lit eerily by the light from the television, both lost in their own worlds until Des snapped himself back to the present. “It’s been fun. See you next Thursday, old man.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Benjamin waved him off, and the dark vampire disappeared out the door. Benjamin stared at the television screen and watched the static bounce around, like ant races, some said. It never looked like ants to him. More like a blizzard. It was the same kinda blizzard that had brought that trucker gal into the motel. With her red nails and her black eyes. She’d been wearing skin tight jeans and been so full of pent up energy that she looked like she’d burst right out of ‘em. That had been one helluva night.

“And I didn’t even need any honey,” Benjamin commented aloud. He took a swig of whisky and spat it into the bucket. “Amateur.”

Cattitude by Edie Ramer

This is from Cattitude the Paranormal Romance by Edie Ramer available at: Amazon Barnes & Noble, Smashwords

“You’re reading Harry Potter?”

Belle started, Max’s voice shocking her head up, her jaw open, her heart hammering. The only other time she’d been surprised by a human was the day Caroline grabbed her. Caroline had snuck in, but Max didn’t sneak anywhere. He always strode in boldly.

“Harry Potter is wonderful,” she said. “He had a bedroom in a room beneath the stairs. The Dursleys are mean to him.”

“You learned how to read that well already?” He frowned, and she wondered if he thought she was faking, like Annette on The Love Chronicles.

“I’m not faking anything.” She scowled at him. Yes, she was lying, but he should still believe her. He should believe everything she told him.

He remained standing over her, his expression hard instead of soft. She liked soft much better than hard. “Your memory could be coming back.”

“Or it could be that I’m very smart.” Or brilliant. She’d always suspected she was brilliant.  Or perhaps she was tapping into the body’s brain cells. Though Sorcha had vacated the body, maybe some of her knowledge remained. Maybe that was why she was catching on so quickly.

She shifted in her chair, then shifted back. She wanted her own knowledge, not Sorcha’s.

He grinned and she sucked in her breath, feeling as if she’d been kicked in the heart.

His smile never made her feel this way when she’d been a cat.

Bending down, he grabbed one of the books she’d set apart. “Did you read this?” He showed her the cover, a cartoon cat in a hat, tall with stripes.

She made a face, though she was glad to talk instead of think. “It’s a silly book, the worst ever.”

His eyebrows climbed up his forehead and his body relaxed, an odd look on his face that she couldn’t place. A good one, not bad. “Sure it’s silly, but everyone loves The Cat in the Hat.

She waved her hand in the air. She didn’t care what everyone liked. Everyone was human and didn’t know better.  “Cats don’t wear hats,” she said.

He laughed harder than she’d ever heard him in all the years she’d lived with him. Looking at him, she felt the kick in her heart again. She swallowed a scream that said, No, no, no! I should not feel this way about him.

“What about a book about a dog?” he asked.

The horror made it easy for her to ignore the kick and remind her that Max was not perfect, though this stupid body seemed to disagree.

“I don’t like dogs.”

“You remember that too?”

She glared at him. She supposed it wouldn’t be appropriate to give him a warning nip. “I don’t remember anything.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “You look so offended.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant but she nodded. From his face, offended was a good thing to look like.

“If you change your mind, I saved one of my favorite dog books.” His mouth straightened, and his mood changed. “I wish I could forget I’d read it, so I could read it all over again.”

His eyes darkened, touching a spot within her heart, making her ache for him and want to say something that would warm his eyes and curl up his mouth again.

“Why?” Her voice sounded funny to her own ears, and she couldn’t think of one thing to say that would make him smile. “Why does it make you sad?”

He shook his head and backed up, his face closing. “Just thinking. It was a favorite of my dad’s. I’d better get back to work. I have a lot to do.” He gave a sharp nod and left.

She watched him turn into the hall, the ache still heavy in her chest. Frowning, she sat and returned back to reading Harry. It stopped her from thinking about what had just happened. It stopped her feeling sad because Max was sad. It stopped her from thinking of the kick in the heart because he laughed.

Most of all, it stopped her from thinking how un-catlike she felt when Max was around.

This was not good, not good at all.



I live in southeastern Wisconsin with my husband, two dogs, and the original Belle the cat. I started writing in the 1990’s, selling short stories in the mystery genre to National magazines and two Women Sleuth books. In addition to non-fiction articles, I wrote verses for greeting cards, and I possess a drawer filled with cards for any occasion. I’m co-founder of Write Attitude, an inspirational website for writers. I’ve won RWA writing contests with four different books (including CATTITUDE and her upcoming book, DEAD PEOPLE), and I was an American Title V finalist. You can read about my journey as an independent author on my blog. I also blog at Magical Musings, along with 8 amazing and brilliant writers.

you can find more of Edie at:

Help me choose a Pen Name

If you’ve ever visited my Smashwords author page, you might have noticed a book called The Do-Nothing Day that is about snuggly teddy bears and written for a target audience of four year olds. It was written and illustrated in roughly 2001, along with ten others, and they have since darkened my hard drive. Though, I originally uploaded it so people with questions could see what Smashwords books with images looked like, the book has gotten enough downloads that I’ve decided to upload the other ten as well. However, I’m not so sure that mixing children’s books and adult books is wise.

My vampire books aren’t erotica, but there’s enough of a difference that I wouldn’t want someone to judge either set of books based on the other. I already have enough of a fight convincing people that my vampires are not YA (thanks again, Twilight), and mixing kiddie books into my account isn’t going to help. But, I don’t see why someone shouldn’t be enjoying them. They are pretty cute, after all.

So, now comes the fun, interactive part of the blog where you get to cast your votes on what my pen name should be! Leave your vote in the comments or, if you have a better suggestion, then leave it, too. I’ll probably cross post this all over, but in the end I’ll compile them all together and whatever wins is the name I will use.

  • J. Harris-Naylor
  • J.R. Harris
  • Roey Harris
  • Sintiel Quen
  • Nic Constantinescu
  • Alex Marshall

All the names come from various things I’ve done over the years.  I could give you lengthy explanations, but I’ll refrain. I will say one of them is elvish.

Look forward to seeing what everyone thinks!

Lost Chapters 6: That Would Be Cheating

Why should DVDs get all the fun? now presenting the deleted scenes* from Legacy of Ghosts! In other words, The Lost Chapters. – click the link for more info.

More info

Of course, since these are little snips, you don’t need to have read Legacy of Ghosts to enjoy them.

(Insert this at the end of Chapter Eighteen.)

Katelina stared at the window where light leaked around the dressers.  Despite the precautions, the room was far from dark, and whether because of the light or her nerves, she couldn’t find sleep.

Jorick stirred beside her and murmured, “You should rest, little one.”

“I know, but I can’t.” She stopped short of mentioning why; the panic, the worry, the hovering thoughts of certain death. He’d know them all, anyway.

A sudden wave of relaxation crashed over her, and she could hear him soothing her, “Sleep. Everything is fine. Everything will be fine. Sleep-“

“No.”  Despite the good intentions, she didn’t want him to use his mind tricks on her.  “You know I don’t like that.”

He sighed resignedly. “Yes, I know. But, I thought rest was a higher priority, this time. You’ll need your strength tomorrow, and it seems a waste for you to ignore the resources available.”

“Resources?” she echoed incredulously. “I hardly call you ‘enchanting’ me to sleep a resource!”

“Why?” He rolled her over to face him and met her eyes with a challenge. “If you were tired and had sleeping pills then you’d take them, wouldn’t you?”

She knew where this was going, and she refused to play into it. “Maybe.”  He narrowed his eyes, as if reading the truth from her, and she relented. “All right, fine. If I was tired enough, then yes, I would. But,” she added quickly. “I’m not that tired right now.”

“If you say so.”  His shoulders moved in an almost imperceptible shrug and he rolled onto his back. “But, I did offer.”

“I know.”

They fell into silence and she stared at the dressers and the light leaking around the edges. Maybe she should take him up on it. After all, they’d have a fight tomorrow and-

And why didn’t he just use that mind control to win? “He could just take them over and-”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” he asked to her unspoken thought.

She started to chastise him, then let it go. What was the point? “Not really. If you got it, use it.”

His amusement was palpable. “Yet you just said-”

“That’s different,” she interrupted. “That’s on me. I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Really? It often seems the same.” He suddenly turned serious. “No, but they are, and that’s the problem. Influencing someone does require a certain level of concentration, and it’s rather difficult to concentrate while you’re fighting.”

“Well, yes, but you could stand off to the edge, couldn’t you? And do it that way? Or do you need eye contact or something?”

“That helps, yes. But, it’s faster to just kill them.”

His cavalier attitude struck her as wrong. “But what about someone strong,” she argued. “Someone you can’t beat easily?” Like Kateesha.

“If they’re strong enough to pose a challenge, then their minds are probably too strong. As for Kateesha,” he broke off and pulled in a tight breath. “I’ve told you before that I can’t read her mind. If I could, I’d have known what she was up to before she ever betrayed us.”

She didn’t remember the conversation, but he had a valid point.  “Why can’t you read her mind? I thought you could read everyone’s?”

“No, not everyone’s. There are those who are far older and more powerful than me, and those who are stronger, and those who have a natural immunity.  I imagine Kateesha falls into the latter category, or perhaps it’s because we had the same Master.”

Katelina shivered as she thought about the dark demoness and her vengefully gleaming eyes. That was something she didn’t want to think about, so she asked instead, “I don’t suppose you can read his mind, either?”

“Malick’s? No. And I doubt I’d want to.” Jorick changed the topic with an attempted smile. “But all of this talking isn’t leading to sleep. We can talk tonight. In the meantime-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m just… wound up.”

He gazed at her sympathetically, then drew her to him and held her close. His familiar scent filled her nose and his strong arms chased away the imaginary phantoms. “It’s going to be all right, little one. Trust me.”

Despite the comfort of his presence, she wasn’t convinced.

*However, unlike deleted scenes, these were actually written later, for fun, so I could pull off the whole “Lost Chapters” gag. None of the Lost Chapters were ever in the original manuscript, nor were they ever deleted. Thank you for reading the small print.

Lost Chapters 5: They Say

Why should DVDs get all the fun? now presenting the deleted scenes* from Legacy of Ghosts! In other words, The Lost Chapters. – click the link for more info.

More info

Of course, since these are little snips, you don’t need to have read Legacy of Ghosts to enjoy them.

(Insert this at the end of Chapter Sixteen.)

Katelina flipped the cable channels randomly, only stopping on the local news as a last resort. The news anchor was a cheerful looking male with graying hair and a too tight tie.  He tugged at the offensive neckwear as he continued his story.

“-Baker’s Funeral home reported the theft of eleven caskets from its downtown showroom. A security camera recorded the image of a masked man before it was disabled-”

A fuzzy picture showed someone who was built very much like Micah and wielding a crow bar. He swung the weapon towards the camera, and the picture disappeared.

“-Authorities are unsure at this time if the theft is intended as a prank, or if it is related to the theft of fifteen caskets from the Bryson County Funeral Home in Palmina earlier this month. The eleven caskets have been estimate to be worth over $30,000.”

Katelina whistled low. At that price no self respecting vampire could afford to buy their own casket! No wonder they were stealing them. If Oren and his cohorts had that kind of money then surely their war coven would have been somewhere with heat and running water?  Though, it was Oren’s own fault. It wasn’t like vampires had to be in coffins; Oren was just a psychopath who liked them.

The funny thing was, she’d never bothered to wonder where the caskets came from, even though there’d been a basement full.  And just how did they steal fifteen caskets at one time and transport them back? That would take a lot of trucks, wouldn’t it?  Or one really huge one?

She’d have asked Jorick but, as usual, he wasn’t there. And even if he was, what would he say? She could imagine the conversation:

Jorick would laugh, then he would say something like, “You wonder about the strangest things, little one.”

And she’d glare at him with offence and snap back, “It’s a perfectly logical question! How do they haul all of those?”

Jorick would roll his eyes. “Not all at once, obviously. I imagine they take them one or two at a time, don’t you?”

“I don’t know!” she’d cry. “If I did, I wouldn’t ask you!”

He’d snicker, pat her on the head or something similar, and casually remark, “Perhaps you should ask Oren.”

No he wouldn’t. Not now. Now he’d say:

“I don’t know, does it matter?”

Yes, that final statement was a far closer fit to his mood.  And technically he’d be right, it didn’t matter. She’d never even thought about it until a moment ago, but now inquiring minds wanted to know. And know they would!

It was an hour later when Jorick returned, and he was barely through the door before she was on her feet, hands on her hips. “All right! No evading my questions!”

He rolled his dark eyes and moved around her. “What questions?” He dropped onto the edge of the bed and kicked off his snowy boots. “If you must know, I followed him. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a trick.”

His immediate answer threw Katelina off guard. “What? No! I want to know how they haul the coffins!”

Jorick’s head snapped up and he stared at her incredulously. “How they haul the coffins? Who?” Understanding slowly filtered over his features. “Oren? For the love of- I don’t know! I imagine they use Dez’s truck!” He shook his head and turned his aggravated attention to his socks. “How they haul the coffins!”

“It’s a perfectly legitimate question. I mean, they did steal fifteen at a shot.”

“Did they?” he asked with no interest as he peeled off his dirty shirt and tossed it away. “I’d imagine they carry them out, stash them somewhere and then haul them a few at a time.” He stood and started for his jeans, then paused to look at her. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged, as if that was an answer. “I was just curious.”

He tugged off the jeans as well and left them on a heap in the floor. “Yes, well, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.”

He started to turn for the bathroom and a shower, but Katelina called to him, “Who says? It’s always ‘you know what they say’. Well, who exactly are they?”

Jorick stopped, and without turning around answered, “Someone very wise.”

“Really, well ‘they’ also say that inquiring minds want to know.”

She felt his amusement and heard the smirk in his words, “Too much knowledge can be a bad thing.”

“But knowledge is power,” she quipped back.

Jorick’s smirk grew into a full blown grin, and he looked back over his shoulder and said, “Yes, but they say power corrupts, and I wouldn’t want to be responsible for corrupting you, so….” He trailed off into laughter and, before she could work up a good counter argument, disappeared into the bathroom.

*However, unlike deleted scenes, these were actually written later, for fun, so I could pull off the whole “Lost Chapters” gag. None of the Lost Chapters were ever in the original manuscript, nor were they ever deleted. Thank you for reading the small print.

In an Alternate Universe (Part 3)

I’ve been trying to keep my various projects separate, but I with the new Terrible Turtle Conspiracy  website up and running at I thought, “What the heck!”

If you don;t know, The Terrible Turtle Conspiracy is a strange webcomic written by Jonathan Harvey – aka Jissilly – and illustrated by me.

To celebrate the new webpage, I’m posting a three part blog set  that crashes my characters into the Terrible Turtle Universe.  This, thelast of the three,  was written by myself in response to Legacy of Stalking (posted here as Alternate Universe 2).

(read Alternate Universe 1~~~~ read Alternate Universe 2 )

Enough is E-NUFF

Katelina watched through the window, waiting for Jorick to return. The back of her neck had been prickling ever since he’d left, and she hoped he hurried up. He and Loren were just running down to boy’s house and back, or so they’d said. But, they’d already been gone several minutes, and she was certain there was someone out there, the sound of their footsteps lost in the wind. Maybe she was just getting paranoid.

She moved to the couch and dropped onto it restlessly, but she was barely seated before the door opened and Loren strode into the room, conspicuously alone.

“Where’s Jorick?” she demanded. It wasn’t that Loren wasn’t all right, as vampires went, but he wasn’t the kind of guy she thought could do much about whoever was lurking out there. In fact, she was pretty sure a marshmallow could defeat the teen vampire.

“Taking care of something,” Loren answered with a smirk.

She wanted to press him for details, but Jorick chose that moment to appear, dragging behind him a scraggly vampire who looked oddly familiar… Oh no! It was that horrible Willie who’d kidnapped her last year and used her in an insidious plot to try to defeat Axe, the scourge of the undead! She well remembered being forced into a slinky black dress, covered in corn syrup blood and tied to a chair. But wait! Jorick tied him up and lit the barn on fire himself! Willie should have been roasted like a hot dog on a stick.

Mmm. Hot dog. That would sure taste better than that lousy microwave cherry crumble she’d had for dinner!

She jerked herself back to the present situation and demanded loudly, “What’s he doing here?”

Jorick dumped the bloody nosed vampire in the middle of the floor. “That’s what I’d like to know.” He studied Willie for a moment, as if reading him, and then his eyes narrowed dangerously. “I don’t even think so!”

Katelina waited, but no explanation came. In fact, to make things weirder, Jorick stormed into the dining room and returned with the yellow tablet and an ink pen. She hoped for a moment that he might stab Willie with it, but instead he sat in one of the wing backed chairs and began angrily scribbling something on the paper.

Everyone stared at him incredulously, but it was Willie who broke the silence, his voice thick through his broken nose, “Bat are you ‘oing?”

“I’m writing a letter,” Jorick answered savagely, his dark eyes fire as they skipped from the note to his captive. “To NUFF.”

Loren leaned on the back of the chair, casually trying to read what Jorick had written. “You mean the National Union of Fictional Folks?  What are you writing to them for?”

“Because I’ve had it,” Joricke snapped.  “I didn’t say a word when I had to appear in a fan fiction story with Axe the scourge of the Undead, or Biffy the vampire slayer, even though we were forced to talk in rhyme! It was my good deed for the century because that Jonathan Harvey is a nice guy. But was that enough? No! Now that author of ours is writing us into ‘Lost Chapters!’! I mean, what is that even supposed to be?”

“It’s like the deleted scenes on a DVD,” Katelina explained with an eye roll. “Maybe if you’d catch up with the twenty-first century?”

Jorick waved her away and continued, “If that wasn’t bad enough did you see what she did last week? Did you? She made me sparkle! SPARKLE!” (yes, yes I did)

Loren squinted at the paper, still struggling to decipher it. “I dunno.  I thought it was kinda fun.”

Jorick growled low in his throat. “I told her one more move like that and I was out of here. And this – This – is the final straw!  You know, she used to be a really good writer. She used to do doom and depression and dark, angry gore and now… Now look at this! I have a vampire named Willie in my living room! And he was planning to kidnap Katelina, no less, and haul her off for excitement and adventure! Bah! I would do anything for some good, old fashioned gloom!”

Willie did his best to manage a charming smile, and Katelina cringed away. “Kidnap me?”

Loren shrugged. “It’s not really our author’s fault. She didn’t write what’s-his-name in. She’s been hanging out with that Jissilly guy. I think he’s secretly hypnotizing her in emails to write silliness.” He broke off and then exclaimed, “Man, your handwriting is awful! Is that even English?”

“Yes, it is. And furthermore, it is a letter of resignation. I am informing NUFF that we’re leaving and they can just find someone else to replace us. I refuse to put up with anymore of-“

A knock at the door interrupted him. They all froze and stared at the door as if it was some kind of portal to another dimension. After all, they didn’t get visitors very often, and now they had two in the same night.

“If that’s Axe or Biffy I swear I am going to demand severance pay!”

But it wasn’t Axe or Biffy. Instead it was a short, mustached representative from NUFF. They let him in and he peered at the assembled group from behind his wire rimmed glasses. He cleared his throat, then announced, “We at NUFF are aware of your reactions. However, rest assured that all of this was cleared with headquarters days ago, and that, unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do without breaking your contracts. And, I assure you, you don’t want to do that.”  His mustache wiggled thoughtfully and he added, “Have a nice night.”

He was almost to the door when three vampires made eye contact.

It took Katelina a week to get the spot out of the rug.

Hope you enjoyed our foray into silliness!

In an Alternate Universe (Part 2)

I’ve been trying to keep my various projects separate, but I have news cool enough to make it worth crossing over: the new Terrible Turtle Conspiracy  website is up at

The Terrible Turtle Conspiracy is a strange webcomic written by Jonathan Harvey – aka Jissilly – and illustrated by me.

To celebrate the new webpage, I’m posting a three part blog set  that crashes my characters into the Terrible Turtle Universe.  This, the second of the three,  was written a couple weeks ago by Jonathan Harvey- aka Jissilly.  I vaguely asked him if I could post it here. He’s cool like that.

(read Alternate Universe 1)

Legacy of Stalking

She’s coming out today!  I can feel it.  I’m so excited.  I am beside myself, which is weird.  I usually can’t even stand to be around me and here I was beside myself and here I was enjoying my own company like nobody’s business.  I have figured out their pattern.  Right now he’s saying, “Katelina! Me and my stupid little sidekick are going out to do vampire stuff, blah, blah, blah.  You need to stay here and read these out of date books and eat the boring frozen dinner I got you.”

Then she’s saying something like, “Oh, Jorick.  I can’t stomach another awful frozen dinner.  The cherry cobbler looks and tastes like monkey brains. Normal people just don’t eat this kind of crap.  I know you are doing terrible dangerous stuff and drinking blood and the whole thing makes me wanna puke, but please can I go with you.  You can’t leave me locked up here. Wa! Wa! Wa!”

Then he replies with a “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!” I know that’s a lot of “blah” but Jorick is a “blah” kind of vampire.  He’s got the personality of a piece of wood.  After all the “Blah” he’ll tell Katelina that she needs to stay inside because it’s “too dangerous”.  Little will Mr. “Tall and Dark Moron” realize how right he is.

He and his little sidekick will leave to do whatever it is they do and then Katelina will not listen to him. She’ll feel the uncontrollable urge to go outside that crummy little beach house they live in.  That’s when I will make her life better.  I’m going to kidnap her from this life and have her stay with me!

I wonder if she remembers me.  I wonder if she remembers the time, when I Willie Osborn, kidnapped her on my brilliant attempt to use her and Jorick to throw the Scourge off my back. Now those were good times.  I would do anything for the opportunity to relive those days. Jorick, The Scourge, and Biffy the Vampire Killer had all fallen prey to my grand master plan.  You know?  For the life of me I can’t remember what went wrong.  All I remember is that I kidnapped Katelina, tied her up, and dressed her like a vampire.  Little did she know that all her crying and whining would melt my cold unbeating heart.  I just have to have her for my own.  I need to have Katelina for myself.

There goes Jorick and his little boy vampire now. Everything is going exactly as planned.  It’s only a matter of time before Katelina decides to go wandering.  That’s when I pounce!  I so love the word pounce.  Pouncing is what predators do.  That’s what I am.  I am a predator.  I am a vampire that likes to make a ruckus and I don’t care who sees.  No one can stop me and the destruction I leave in my wake.  The Scourge can’t stop me.  Biffy can’t stop me.  Jorick sure can’t stop me.  And don’t even get me started on the Vampire Guild.

Too late!  I have gotten started. Who gave that sanctimonious bunch of losers the right to think they can govern vampirism?  I am still baffled by that name.  Do they really expect to strike fear in the hearts of monsters with a name like that?  “Oh my!  It’s the Vampire Guild!  I’m so scared!”  Please!  Their name makes them sound like they belong in the Wizard of Um.  “We represent the Vampire Guild.  The Vampire Guild!  The Vampire Guild!  And, In the name of the Vampire Guiiiiiild!  We’d love to torture you and bite your neck.”  Man, the Wizard of Um would have been so much better if I wrote it.

Oh man!  She didn’t leave the house yet did she? That would be just my luck to go on rambling about the Vampire Guild only to discover that my opportunity to pounce on Katelina was lost in the wind. Wait.  I see her shadow moving about on the curtains.  Heh, heh, she’s probably going to make sure that Jorick is good and gone before she sneaks out to get into mischief.  Too bad Katelina, it looks like this time mischief is going to get on you.

Yawn.  It sure is taking a long time for her to make her move.  Once I’m done kidnapping her, I am going to give her a serious scolding about wasting my time. It’s not like Jorick picks interesting places to hide out.  The guy is the king of boring.  He’s cheap too.  I know the guy’s got a big enough stash to afford a nice penthouse or something.  Why can’t he hide out someplace cool?

You know?  Maybe I should just go knock on the door.  I bet I could sweep Katelina off her feet.  What does she see in the king of boring anyway?  I’ve been watching them for some time.  He’s not even all that nice to her.  I think she should trade up for the Alpha Vamp.  I’ll show her the adventure she secretly longs for.  Heck, she thinks her life is in constant peril now.  Just wait until she spends an evening with me. I think more people want to destroy me than those sparkly emo vamps in those books for teenagers.  Trust me.  Everyone wants to destroy those guys.

Once I kidnap Katelina, Jorick is going to be so ticked.  He’s going to be all.  “Where is my Katelina?  I was spending so much time with silly teenage vampire friend that I left her vulnerable. Now who will whine to me about my vampire ways.  Oh boo hoo hoo.  I am such a loser.  I am such a moron.  I think I’ll go and condition my long dark hair.  I’m such an idiot that I…”


Was that a twig?  Oh crap.  He’s right behind me, isn’t he?

“Hey Jorick.  It’s me!  You know, I’m your good buddy, Willie, from way back. Yeah, I was just keeping a watch on the beach house for you.  No need to thank me…  Oh.  I see your going to start with the violence and the hurting again.  You are so predictable my frein…. Owwww!  I fink you boke my nose!”

Read his original post here

Lost Chapters 4: Jorick of Oz

Why should DVDs get all the fun? now presenting the deleted scenes* from Legacy of Ghosts! In other words, The Lost Chapters. – click the link for more info.

More info

Of course, since these are little snips, you don’t need to have read Legacy of Ghosts to enjoy them.

(Insert this in the middle of Chapter Ten, after the grocery store and before burning bodies.)

The headlights cut through the night and illuminated the fat, falling snowflakes. Jorick shut the car off while Katelina climbed out, her blue eyes bright and her cheeks pink in the cold. Like a child, she held out her hand to catch a snowflake. Three of them landed on her outstretched fingers and she hurried to think of a wish for each.

Grocery bags rustled and Jorick called, “Are you going to help?”

His voice broke the magic of the moment, but she refused to let him spoil it completely. As if to punish him, she scooped up a handful of snow, squashed it into the semblance of a ball, and hurled it straight at his head.

It hit its mark and then most of the snowball dropped away, but a lump stayed lodged in Jorick’s dark hair; white on black, and a few flakes were even brave enough to splatter across one oh his cheek.s

Jorick stared at Katelina, at first emotionless, and then a mixture of outrage and disbelief took over. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I hit you with a snowball,” she answered as she hurriedly scooped up another handful of snow. “And-“

He cut her off, his tone brooked no argument, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

She weighed the cold snow in her hand. “And why not? It isn’t like you’ll melt.” She changed her voice to an imitation of the Wicked Witch of the West. “I’m melting! Meeeeeellllting!”

“No,” Jorick snapped. “I won’t melt. Now, come along and stop this nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” she echoed. “It’s not nonsense, Jorick. It’s called fun. I realize that’s something you try to avoid, but….” She trailed off and waited for his denial. But, his only answer was a dark scowl, so she let the snowball fly. He dodged to the side and back so quickly she barely saw it, and it flew past him and landed in the yard.

“That’s enough of that,” he said firmly. “Now come on, we have groceries to put away. You can help carry them inside, since they are for you.” As he spoke, he hefted three plastic bags and turned towards the house, his broad back a black coated target. Katelina couldn’t resist.

The snowball hit him between the shoulder blades, and he stopped mid step to spin around and glare darkly. “I said-”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “You said. But, you’re not my father, so….” she left the vague threat hanging and offered him what she hoped was an evil smile.

Jorick’s opinion was silent, but sudden. “Evil? Actually it looks like you’re having problems with digestion.”

“Stop doing that!” she shouted and waved her fist emphatically. She was getting really sick of that!  It made her wish she’d never found out about his mind reading, and that he’d never-

The thought broke off as he smirked smugly; too delighted at having annoyed her the same way she’d annoyed him. “Then stop acting like a child with your snowballs and come along before you melt.”

He turned back towards the house, while Katelina puzzled over his words.  The subtle insult took a movement to register, but when it did, she flung a large snowball at the back of his head.  It hit with a satisfying plop, and she called after him, “I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog too.”

Jorick’s only answer was, “I don’t have a dog, only a human pet.”

As if he sensed it coming, he easily dodged the next snowy missile.

*However, unlike deleted scenes, these were actually written later, for fun, so I could pull off the whole “Lost Chapters” gag. None of the Lost Chapters were ever in the original manuscript, nor were they ever deleted. Thank you for reading the small print.

In an Alternate Universe (Part 1)

I’ve been trying to keep my various projects separate, but I have news cool enough to make it worth crossing over: the new Terrible Turtle Conspiracy  website is up at

The Terrible Turtle Conspiracy is a strange webcomic written by Jonathan Harvey – aka Jissilly – and illustrated by me.

To celebrate the new webpage, I will be posting a three part blog set  that crashes my characters into the Terrible Turtle Universe.  This, the first of the three,  was written last year by Jonathan Harvey- aka Jissilly –  for the Shades of Gray contest.  I vaguely asked him if I could post it here. He’s cool like that.

(Notation from Jonathan)  [this story] stars a vampire named Willy.  Way back in my Navy days I played a role playing game called “Vampire: The Masquerade”.    Willy was my character for that game.  He was a successful character because I used a lot of humor and imagination when I played him, but he became so dark that I started freaking people out.  I gave up the game, but there will always be a Willy inside, just waiting for a story opportunity.

The Price of Fame

By Jonathan Harvey, 2009

This was going to be hard because I knew in the end, that there was simply no way he would wind up my friend.  Jorick was a monster, but not quite like me.  I’m glad that I’m evil.  It’s for all to see.  My name is Willy, and I’m out there man!  I don’t even take time to make up a real plan.  I just fly by my pants and I do what I please.  I could really care less if somebody sees.  Most vampires, like Jorick, will hide who they are, lest some vampire hunter will come from afar.  Well, that’s what was happening and I was to blame.  I put on a show and I went for the fame.  I flaunt who I am.  I just really don’t care.  Sure, I might be insane, but I’m insane with flair.  My need for attention keeps me on the run.  It’s monsters like me that the vampires shun.

So, I had to tell Jorick, just to give him a chance.  If he needed to run, well, he’d know in advance.  The Axe man was coming.  He would soon be in town, and at vampire hunting, this guy took the crown.  He was fast.  He was mean.  He was strong as ox.  He was hunting me down.  You know?  That kind of rocks!  It means I hit the big time.  I’m in the “Who’s Who”.  I should soon have a book and a movie deal too.  The story of Willy!  Wow!  That rings a bell.  I could be the next Drac!  Things might go that well.

But now, Jorick’s attention, getting that was my goal.  So I captured his girl and tied her to a pole.  It was a nice little barn in an out of the way farm.  Not too many around but a farmer to harm. The girl tied up nicely.  She would make good bait.  I just needed the setting, and then I would wait.  I was not going to hurt her, just taste her a little and cover her neck with my vampire spittle.  I took me some time and I fixed her up right. I dressed her in black with a dress that’s too tight.   I styled up her hair, and so that she would look nice, I made her fake vampire fangs out of rice.  I got some corn syrup and a little red dye, and then I made some fake blood.  It’s so good I could cry.  Then I covered her in it.  I covered the floor.  I made funny splatters all over the door.  It looked really great.  You could tell it was fake, just a little vamp fun I was trying to make.

But then, Jorick arrived, and he was mad as a hen.  I said, “Just calm right down, now breath deep, count to ten.  She has not been harmed.  It is quite plane to see.  I only did this so you’d listen to me.”

But then he started punching.  Then, he punched me some more.  He got me right in the face, and I fell to the floor.  I tried to stay down, but it just wouldn’t work.  I was beginning to think that Jorick was a jerk.

I said, “Don’t hit my teeth.  Won’t you watch how you punch?  If you knock out my fangs, how am I to eat lunch?  Will you please stop and hear me?  What am I to do?  If you tied up my girl, I wouldn’t do this to you!”

Jorick wouldn’t listen.  Don’t believe all the hype.  When it comes to vampires, he’s the mean angry type.  He has no sense of humor.  I was joking around.  He kept picking me up and throwing me to the ground.  Things were getting dangerous.  This fight had to stop. So, I sprayed him with mace that I stole from a cop.  Then I picked up a shovel and hit him one time.  Then, I gave him a wedgie.  Now, is that such a crime?

Jorick was rubbing his eyes and cursing my name.  It made me feel good.  He had heard of my fame.  While he caught his breath and got ready to fight, I said, “I did this for you and it does not seem right, that you should be violent because of these pranks.  I’ve got important new.  You know, you should say, ‘thanks’.”

It was quite plain to see, Jorick didn’t agree.  He would not calm down.  He was charging at me.  He was wanting round two.  This was really no fun.  There was nothing to do.  I decided to run.  I ran like the wind, like a stallion on speed.  I ran like a cat that is ready to feed.  I didn’t get far.  He tackled me to the ground.  Once more it’s my face he decided to pound.

“Hey, could you just stop.  I have not harmed the girl.  This fighting is old.  Let’s give talking a whirl.”  Perhaps he got tired, but he stopped with the hitting.  He got off my chest, and soon we were both sitting.

Jorick gave me a snarl and asked, “Why are you here?”  I mean, what’s with the snarl. Should it fill me with fear?  These vampires today, they just bully and yell.  They throw big hissy fits each time things don’t go well.

“I hate to tell you, but I’m here on the run.  I’m just passing through, and I’m under the gun.  The Scourge is pursuing.  He’s real mad at me.  I guess he caught wind of my last killing spree.  I’ve tried hard to shake him, but that guy just won’t shake.  I don’t think he’ll stop until my heart meets his stake”

Jorick then shook his head, “Why’d you bring him here.  You need to leave now.  Have I made myself clear?”

Why did I come with the Scourge on my heels?  I needed a distraction and perhaps a few meals.  I secretly hoped that Scourge would come see my newest friend Jorick and forget about me.  I couldn’t say that.  I knew it would not go well.  My mind started searching for a good lie to tell. “This thing with the Scourge, it is going all wrong.  My days, they are numbered.  It should not be long.  I was hoping you’d help me and that we could be friends.  Sure, I behaved badly.  Please let me make amends.”

“Well, I can’t be running, and neither should you.  Perhaps, we’ll join forces and see this thing through.”  Jorick’s mind was now racing.  He’s not a bad guy.  To know I’d betray him almost made me cry.

“A joining of forces, yes that would be best.  We can take on the Scourge, put our might to the test.”  Put our might to the test?  Just what was I saying?  That Scourge was too good at his vampire slaying.  Yes, Jorick was tough.  He could sure beat me up.  When it came to the Scourge, he was just a scared pup.  We needed much more than just taking a stand.  It was time to be sneaky. We needed a plan.  We could both fake our deaths, or else he could fake mine.  He might not come to town and then things would be fine.

I stood there thinking, searching for an out.  Jorick turned to the girl, that’s what he’s all about.  Suddenly from behind, I heard a loud crash.  Was the Scourge here already?  He is like a bad rash.  It wasn’t the scourge but some red headed chick.  By the way that she moved, I was going to be sick.

“I am Biffy!” she said.  “It is my lucky day.  I was hoping to kill me a vampire today.”

I am not proud off this.  I’m a fiend and a liar.  I screamed, “Jorick!  You monster!  You nasty vampire!  Biffy is here to save us at last!  Go get him Biffy.  You had better move fast.”

Biffy saw the rope and she saw the fake blood.  She saw I was beaten and covered in mud.  She saw the young girl still tied up in the chair.  This was mostly my fault, but then, what did I care?  She jumped to attack him.  I snuck out the door.  I was feeling quite guilty, right down to the core.  Not so guilty of course, that I was getting involved.  With this Biffy battle, my problems were solved.  The Scourge needs a vampire and Biffy kills one.  When the Scourge does show up, he will think that he’s done.

I was ready to bolt, but then he caught my eye.  The Scourge had arrived.  I’m not ready to die.  Why is nothing easy?  Things don’t go my way.  Or, maybe they do, it’s a sly game I play.  The Scourge was approaching.  I let out a cry, “That vampires tied up my girlfriend! Why?  Why?”

The Scourge rushed in the barn and he joined in the fray.  Perhaps this was going to be my lucky day.  I ran to my car and grabbed my gas can.  I would burn up the barn.  What a marvelous plan.  No Scourge, no Biffy, and no Jorick to fight!  With them all burned up, I’d be famous alright.  I poured gas round the barn.  This was going to be fun.  I would light up a match, start a fire, and then run.  There was a good chance that all three could get free.  With chances come fun, and well, fun is just me.

I searched through my pockets, no matched found I.  I don’t own a lighter.  I was ready to cry.  I was about to give up and leave them to their fight.  When I heard, from behind, someone say, “Need a light?”

Oh Crap!

I turned around slowly and there all three stood.  They had untied the girlfriend.  This did not look good.  They were not at all gentle.  They tied me up tight.  I was stuck on the pole when Jorick lit the light.  With the flames and the smoke I would soon meet my end.  I said, “Why Jorick, why?  I thought I was your friend?  Those guys kill our kind.  They are not on your side.”

“I have secret.  To you, I’ll confide.  If I helped end your terror, they’ll leave me alone.  You made a good patsy, but we all must go.  For a maniac genius, you really are slow.”

Everyone left.  I supposedly died.  No one but Jorick knows we both lied.  Jorick gave me a knot that he knew I’d undo.  The Surge left him alone and left me alone too.  I’d better lay low for a few days or so, but you know I’ll be back.  I have no place to go.  I’m writing a book, because I have the urge to tell everyone about how we tricked the Scourge.  Jorick will get the fame he’s always feared.  He’ll be in a book, now won’t that be weird.

You can see his original posting here

And, though there’s no vampires, you should still check out the TTTC site:

Just in Case

I’m really more of a let’s-all-love-our-vampires kind of gal, but as the boy scouts say, “be prepared”.  After all, vampires are creatures of the night, and you never know when they might get a little out of hand.  And even if your vampire friend is one of those sweet, sugary, I’d-rather-die-than-drink-from-a-human sort, their friends may not be. In that case, doesn’t it make sense to be ready?

And now, thanks to The Green Dragon you can do just that! Check it out:

(filched from )

(Isn’t that fun? I got that link from a forum on GoodReads and had to share! They have some other really cool items, like wands, skystones and tankards, but the vampire stakes were too cool!)

Of course, if you’re on a tight budget and handy with power tools, you could always make them yourself:

stolen from

(read all the way to the end to see what they were really for – it’s pretty funny)

Now I’m not advocating vampire slaying, but I’m just saying, you never know. Better to be safe than sorry.

  • Tales of the Executioners

    Short stories from the world of Amaranthine; a universe of blood and darkness where vampires don't sparkle and night is eternal. Each is about a member of the Executioners squad; the special vampire "police" force. Members both past and present share stories of assignments, origins, and more.

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    Joleene Naylor

    An independent author, freelance artist, and photographer for fun who loves anime, music, and writing. Check out my vampire series Amaranthine at or drop me a line at

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