Tag Archives: vampire

War of Nytefall, on #LisaBurtonRadio

Lisa Burton

Welcome all you night stalkers and day walkers. You’ve landed on Lisa Burton Radio. The only show that brings you characters from the books you love. We’re in for a real treat today, because my guest is the harbinger of a new race. Okay, it’s a race of vampires, but still evolution at work and all that. “Let’s give a big welcome to Clyde.”

“Thanks for having me. Though, it’s kind of strange having people outside of my gang giving me a warm welcome. Vampires aren’t really loved and neither are thieves, so the combination doesn’t make me many friends.”

“Glad to have you on. My notes say that you were once a regular vampire, but something happened during the Great Cataclysm. What can you tell me about that?”

“First, I’m going to admit up front that it wasn’t my finest moment. I wanted to really mess with the Duragians who are followers of the Sun God. They love destroying vampires, we enjoy killing them, and the cycle goes on for eternity. I was already on their hit list for a few treasury robberies and pretending to be their god for about week, which you’d think would get me more hate than it did. Anyway, my plan was to steal their holiest of items called the Orb of Durag. No idea what it did and I really didn’t care. The point was to take it out of their central temple and gloat for a couple months before tossing the thing into a volcano or something. I steal more for the thrill than the money.

“In my defense, the plan was a good one. I got their attention with some evil deeds and let myself get arrested. That way I was already in the temple and didn’t have to fight through the city. Now, Duragians execute vampires using four priests that use powerful sun beams to slowly tear the prisoner apart. I was supposed to pull off the heist before it got that far, but things went a little awry. Okay, I actually did start getting torn apart and then the Great Cataclysm hit. I was in too much agony to see what was going on, but I heard screaming and the ground shook. Next thing I know, the entire temple and city are sucked into the earth. I was trapped down there for fifty years, which felt like a lot more.”

“That’s terrible. Were you awake the whole time, conscious, whatever?”

“The thing is that the city and temple were intact, so everyone who survived the initial disaster were alive down there. I had about two hundred mortals to feed off of, which ran out pretty quickly. You don’t really imagine that you’ll be stuck in such a situation for very long, especially when you have friends up above. I had no idea the Duragians and hunters declared war on the vampires, so my gang was busy. There was digging the first year, but that stopped for some reason. I played around with my illusions and wandered around the ruins to avoid going insane from solitude. Not much one can say about being trapped down there with only your subconscious to talk to.

“It did have a happy ending, which turned out to be a chaotic beginning. The Duragians began digging again, but they only made the first hole bigger. I didn’t want to go charging out into another execution, so I stayed below. That’s when my old partner Mab finally arrived to check on me. I don’t know what she was planning as a rescue mission, but it failed nearly as badly as my Orb of Durag heist. Crazy woman is lucky she wasn’t killed and I got out to slaughter all those mortals. Probably would have jumped in earlier if I’d known I wasn’t the same vampire I was before.”

“Not the same, how exactly?”

“A little background info for the delicious folks at home. In Windemere, vampires can use magic and are physically superior to mortals. That’s as long as they stay out of the sunlight or wear a night cloak. Once you’re in the sun, you’re weakened and easy pickings for anyone that wants to kill you. I no longer have that problem, which is why I’m called a Dawn Fang. Knock me into the light and the worst that will happen is a sunburn, which is something I really thought was a thing of the past.

“That’s the thing that gets the most amount of attention though. Mortals would be terrified of a vampire that stays strong in the sunlight and Old World vampires use that as the main reason we’re abominations. Can’t say I disagree, but I’d say having a pulse and being able to eat real food are freakier. I mean, I get nourishment from blood, but I can also pack away an entire wedding cake for energy. Gregorio, my original maker, thinks it helps us maintain our monstrous physical abilities and special powers. Unlike Old Worlds, Dawn Fangs can’t use magic, but we each have three unique abilities that we can use. So, you never know what you’ll get with one of my kind.”

“That’s kind of cool, and scary at the same time. One person does not make a new race. How did the Dawn Fangs come to be?”

“To be fair, I never wanted to become a new race and was hoping I’d be the only one. It didn’t work out that way because of an accident. Somebody inadvertently . . . Okay, I’ll stop being nice about this. A situation arose where a friend was going wild and decided to take a bite out of me like I was the chef’s special. We learned that my blood can transform Old World vampires into Dawn Fangs. Not a good thing since I wanted to keep this whole mess a secret. While I haven’t tested it, we’re pretty sure a mortal can be changed through a special bite in order to be turned. I haven’t decided on if I want to do that though.”

“That’s a tiny bit gross. So what about children? Can you produce children who are Dawn Fangs? To me that makes a race.”

“I seriously doubt that since we’re still kind of undead. Even if the males got their parts to work, I don’t think the females would have any eggs after being corpses for a couple hundred years. Then again, it really depends on what you consider producing children. The mortal method might be beyond us, but changing someone by blood or fang is how all vampire species procreate. A fresh turn might have the body of an adult, but they’re technically a child in the eyes of our society. They need to be nurtured and taught like anybody else.”

“Earlier, you said Mab rescued you. That’s a pretty telling commitment. What’s the deal between you and her?”

“Well, I want to politely point out that she tried. If I can’t live my blunders down then she can’t either. That being said, Mab and I were partners before I ever made the gang. Has to be going on about five hundred years now that we’ve been doing heists as a duet. I wish I had more to say about our first encounter, but it wasn’t anything special. We were both vampiric thieves working the same territory and eventually bumped into each other. So, it started as a rivalry, which was made worse by her being in a guild while I was an independent. I suggested we go off on our own, which led to her demanding that I prove myself. That’s where this little golden necklace comes into play–”

“For our listeners, it looks like a little gold ear of corn. Go on.”

“This thing is actually worthless, but the guild master had given it to his wife or sister or some woman he lived with. I didn’t bother asking for a family tree when I took the thing from her in the middle of a busy marketplace. Not busy enough to hide in a crowd, so it was basically me pulling a lift in broad daylight with guards and merchants staring in my direction. Didn’t attract any attention either. Thinking back, that was probably the first heist I did for a thrill instead of the money. Well, a thrill and Mab.

“Our partnership did turn more romantic around the time our gang began getting more of a reputation. Guess we started to feel like mother and father to all the others, but we had a falling out of sorts. Nothing that ended the partnership, which is obvious since she was the only one who believed I was still alive in the ground. We had an anniversary coming up and Mab asked a friend who tends to remain nameless for seduction tips. The conversation got weird, the friend thought she was being asked to take Mab’s form to pull a seduce and switch, and the real one walked in at the worst time. Yeah, I’ll admit that as a master illusionist, I really should have seen through the disguise or at least noticed something was wrong. Took me about a month to grow all my organs back and the friend required two because she didn’t get out of there with her skin. I mean, Mab got so pissed off that she flayed the other woman and that led to bones get broken . . . Let’s just say vampires don’t hold back in these situations since we can survive a lot of physical trauma. We’ve even been known to snap the spine of a friend to stop them from rushing into a bad situation.”

“So what was the first thing you did when you re-emerged? Some people might go for a pizza.”

“The first thing I did when I got back to the surface was cut off my hair because it was down to my ankles. Needed clothes too and then there was figuring out why Mab took so long getting to me. After that, I had to visit an old friend in the city of Nyte for some business and to let everyone know I wasn’t dead. Once Mab and I realized I wasn’t a normal vampire, we went to where I should have gone in the first place. That would be to Gregorio Roman, who is at least two thousand years old and the vampire that turned me. The Old Fang is like a father to me and he’s easily the smartest person I know. If anyone could figure out what was going on with me, it would be that half-blind gnome. Good thing I brought Mab with me because he has this thing about hugs. He just loves them, but prefers it to be from women, which is why I take her along so often. Oh, she might be listening to this. Eh, I’ve gotten in trouble for a lot worse than that.”

“And now you’re trying to get the band back together. Tell us about that.”

“I don’t really understand Windemere any more, so I feel rather lost. Not a good thing for a guy who can punt an armored ogre over an entire castle. I figure getting my old gang back together is a way to create a sense of comfort and normalcy. Many of them are dead, but Mab, the Vengeance Hounds, and Decker are still alive. That third one isn’t a full member, but I trust the good General with my life. These people understand me and, at least if they learn my secret, I know they’ll help me instead of treat me like an abomination. If I can get in close with Xavier Tempest of Nyte too then it’s even less of a risk.

“The only problem here is that we have this messy war, so the gang won’t be able to do heists like the old days. We have to act as a special squad for Nyte, which means we’re more soldier and mercenary than thief. Still, I think we’ll get back to basics one day. For now, I’m happy to be back among friends who can prevent me from going full monster.”

“Full monster?”

“I’m not really sure how to explain this because it’s more a feeling than a concrete idea. That and it makes me come off a little weak and unstable. Even compared to the other Dawn Fangs, I’m insanely powerful because of what the Great Cataclysm did to me. The tradeoff for this seems to be that I’m always a few steps away from losing control and making ground chuck out of everything in sight. I mean, I just have this sensation in the back of my head that there’s a primal savagery aching to be unleashed. Part of me is tempted to let it out and see what happens, but I’m not sure it’s something I can come back from. This is another reason I want to be back with my old gang. With trusted friends around, I feel stronger and I know they’ll pick up on signs of danger. Worst case scenario, they put me down before I can go too far. It’s what I’d do for them.”

“I wish you the best in keeping the monster at bay. Any closing thoughts for our listeners today?”

“If you enjoy action-filled adventures and vampires that aren’t searching for jailbait then check out my story. I mean, I’m not a noble hero like that Luke Callindor kid and his friends, but I’m highly entertaining. By the way, I haven’t been on Earth ever since the author guy moved me to Windemere. Know where I could pick up a cheesecake and maybe a few pints of hospital grade blood?”

“Sorry, robot girl. No blood here.

“Listeners can learn all about Clyde and the Dawn Fangs in the book War of Nytefall, by Charles Yallowitz. This is the first volume in a series and is a great time to jump on board what promises to be quite the adventure. I’ll post all the info on the website after I go off the air.

“Don’t forget to use those sharing buttons today. Charles has done it for many of you, and he deserves a bit of payback now.

“For Lisa Burton Radio, I’m Lisa Burton.”

***

In the wake of the Great Cataclysm, a new predator will emerge from within Windemere’s shadow.

For fifty years, Clyde has been trapped beneath the earth while the vampire kingdom has been gradually losing its war against the Sun God’s followers. Only Mab believes that her partner survived his holy execution and is determined to bring him back to the city of Nyte. Retrieving the vampiric thief is only the beginning as he comes out of the ground stronger, faster, and possessing abilities that their kind have never witnessed throughout their ancient history. Thrown into the war, Clyde must be careful to hide his true nature while fighting alongside his old friends. Too bad he is having so much fun being free that keeping his secret might be the furthest thing from his mind.

Will anyone be ready for the inevitable rise of the Dawn Fangs?

Pick up your copy here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CBQXLBV/

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

You can find Charles on the following social media sites:

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz

Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

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Caledonia on Lisa Burton Radio

Today, on Lisa Burton Radio, we're in the studio with two very special guests from the series, Caledonia. I'm your host, Lisa the robot girl, and my guests today are Detective Inspector Leah Bishop and Robert Burns, national poet of Scotland and vampire. “Welcome you guys. Thanks for joining me.”

“Thank you for having us.”

“My bio says Robert is actually the Robert Burns, the famous poet. How are you still around? You have to be like 220.83 years old.”

“I’m a vampire. And you know what they say, age just makes a man more experienced.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a robot.”

“Always on the lookout for new experiences.”

“All right, Rabbie, slow it down.”

“So, Robert. You’re immortal. And you still live in Scotland after all those years?”

“Of course. I guard the gate to Faerie. It’s behind a bar in a small pub in the Highlands.”

“That explains Robert, where do you fit in, Leah?”

“I was a folklorist and became a police officer. Caledonia Interpol offered me a job and I took it. I was getting away from a bad past. Then I found out everyone working there aside from me was a monster. My partner, Dorian Grey, is a selkie. We investigate supernatural crime.”

“That's juicy, he was supposed to be a good looking man. Is there anything going on with you guys?”

“Not a chance in hell. Dorian’s taken anyway, but we’re best friends. He’s bisexual, like all selkies; makes their purpose as creatures that comfort people unhappy in love a lot easier.”

“Tell us about what you're working on now, Leah.”

“There’s a serial killer in Glasgow – the first serial killing of faeries the supernatural world has ever seen.”

“Killing fairies is heinous, I hope you catch whoever is doing this. What’s going to happen if you don’t?”

“Usually they call in the human police to investigate crimes like this one. This is the first time it’s been systematically done to the Fae.”

“And, don't forget Leah, with selkies involved, the killer might have just inadvertently doomed the world.”

“So, it’s pretty important then?”

“Yes. We investigate supernatural crime exclusively, and this is one of the first crossovers into the human world or human behavior we’ve ever seen.”

“Sounds like you have your hands full.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“So Robert, what drags you into this story?”

“Well…I…”

“He’s in stupid love with a monster called Desdemona.”

“It’s not stupid. How dare –”

“We’re the ones that have to deal with you mooning around like an idiot all the time.”

“Ooh, tell us about Desdemona. That's a pretty name.”

“Well, Lisa, we met during the Fae Wars, when I was still human. Des –”

“She hates being called that.”

“Des is incredible – a baobhan sith vampire and the commander of the Fae army during the opium wars. You’ve never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying all at once.”

“Sorry, Lisa, he’ll go on about this for hours. Desdemona is a vampire, she’s also a bellydancer and owns a club in the Glasgow city centre. This idiot’s been chasing her for centuries.”

“She’s not interested?”

“I’m not sure she even understands love in the traditional human sense. Baobhan sith are not emotional creatures.”

“Now wait a minute. You don’t know that. It could happen.”

“Unlikely.”

“That's so tragic. Pining away for all eternity over someone who isn't interested.”

“There’s always hope.”

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Of course.”

“New topic you guys, I'm excited to tell our listeners about all your success. Many of us main characters would kill for your kind of success. Not only have you enjoyed eight books and counting, but there is also a television series, and a movie. What has it been like to have actors portray you?”

“Well, they’ve had three different women play me. I’m like Doctor Who in that way. Or James Bond.”

“The actor playing me is very handsome. The likeness is uncanny.”

“Yes, I approve of him.”

“You would.”

“Are you calling me a pervert, Robert?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but you thought it.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“Anyway, all the actors are doing a fantastic job. I’m looking forward to the next installment.”

“Yes, Burns Night. I’d like to see how that turns out.”

“The tragic hero of the story.”

“I’m not tragic!”

“Of course not. I think it’ll be fantastic. The film builds on the previous stories but can also be watched as a stand-alone show.”

“Yeah, and in this one we both work together. Dorian vanishes and Robert gets roped in to helping me find him.”

“I only did it for Des.”

“You always say that. That night was one hell of an adventure.”

“Agreed. The film is worth checking out.”

“That's wonderful you guys. I wish you every success, and I hope you catch that killer. Sadly, we're out of time. Our sponsor today is the Caledonia Series by Amy Hoff. I'll include all the links on the website.”

***

Website: www.caledoniaseries.co.uk

Tumblr: www.caledoniafans.tumblr.com

Twitter: @caledoniaseries

Facebook: www.facebook.com/caledoniaseries

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The end of my working vacation

He glares at me through two oily black eyes, taking my confidence and all joy from the things I've created. Everything I've ever written, or ever will write becomes utter crap under his gaze.

This raven doesn't need three eyes, like a popular fantasy series and television show. He does just fine with two hateful shining orbs. His name is Doubt, and I am his bitch for the next few weeks.

The walls of the writing office close in around me, and nothing matters beyond my collection of short stories, and Doubt.

He kawed raucously over the fact that I miscounted the number of vampires in a coven. There were six, then seven, then six again. He pecked at my hand until I changed it to seven in every instance. Seven is a classic fairy-tale number, and will resonate better in the story.

That seemed to be his only complaint with the story. I set it in Baltimore, and Doubt is a huge Ravens fan. Is he manipulating me to support some kind of cause?

He paces back and forth across my desk muttering one of the few words he mimics, “crap, crap, crap.” Maybe he speaks with purpose, he is no ordinary raven. This one is from Mt. Olympus and is nearly treble the size of an ordinary raven. He was a gift from my Muse, but he seems more like a punishment.

Lorelei, the Muse, told me I must learn to overcome Doubt if I ever want to succeed as a writer. I've taken this to heart for seven different books now, but it never gets any easier. Real authors get something to market. I don't want to put out crap, crap, crap, so I edit to the best of my ability. Always under the watchful eye of my gift, my foe.

He doesn't like my attempt at an epistolary style tale. This is the one he thinks is crap, crap, crap. I breezed through it quickly, and will have to return later. My bloody hands couldn't take it any longer.

I drank coffee, so I know Lisa the robot brought it to me. I just can't remember her being there. Such is the power of Doubt during our editing sessions.

He didn't have much to offer in the story I called Magpies. There is a raven in the story, and I wonder if he has some ulterior motives. I'm tempted to replace the raven in the story with another kind of carrion bird just to spite him. I'm afraid he'll peck my eyes out. The raven remains out of fear.

He didn't offer much in the story about the girl with a fever. This concerns me too. No story is perfect. Maybe I should change it somehow, but how? Is he quiet because it's good, or so bad it's beneath his contempt?

I stopped just before the only fantasy in the collection. There is a battle in this story, and I'm afraid he'll make me add ravens to the scene.

There is more editing to come, and I need to break it up into smaller pieces. My mind is full of doubt right now, and I don't want it to get overwhelming. I need to watch some cartoons or something to change the mood.

I left the writing cabin around 1:00. My working vacation is over. It was productive for what it is worth. I added new words to my novel, finished up my short stories, and assembled them into one long manuscript. I need to edit them, and create a table of contents. Maybe I should look into a book formatter this time. That way my italics will come out correctly. Does anybody have one they would recommend? I'd hire them for the table of contents and an Amazon ready file that I could add a cover to.

I think I'll spend the afternoon playing with Otto, or seeing if the coyote will catch the roadrunner. Maybe Pinky and the Brain can actually take over the world.

I hope everyone had a great weekend, and I'm serious about a reasonable formatter.

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Filed under Muse, Writing

Kicked to the curb!

Tonight, The Walking Dead returns. Will I be watching that? Nooooo. Old What's Her Face* is uber excited about the Grammys. I will probably read more of your blogs, and look up once as AC/DC performs. My wife also has the red carpet show on ahead of time. I see Lady Gaga is still under Tony Bennett's enthralment. Oh, and Nicki Ménage brought her boobs to the show. (Even if you aren't interested, they just suck you in.)

I washed and filled all my fountain pens today. I am ready for any note taking that strikes my brain. Three different inks, Noodler's Walnut (dark brown), Noodler's Army Air Corp (blue black), and Noodler's Bad Black Moccasin (black).

My work in progress has to change to accommodate a new supporting character. I think it will really add something to the story, and I'm about to return to writing it. It's caused me to to do some deep research again, but the story will now involve an amputated finger and some NOLA Hoodoo. (Yay!)

My Muse, Lorelei, has been after me about some short stories. I managed a micro fiction instead. I'd post it on my blog, but I'm toying with a book of short stories broken up by a page of micro fiction. I really don't want to work on short stories until I finish the first draft of my novel. Maybe this will help Lorelei focus on my novel for another month or so.

I also built some guest posts to publish on Tuesday and Thursday. I think you guys are going to like these, because they come with a lesson or two.

Next weekend, I may dedicate some time to getting Will O' the Wisp ready for prime time. This is the book I need to release in two versions, because of copyright permission over some song lyrics. It's time now, then I can check in with all the ARC readers. I targeted somewhere around the time Winter changes into Spring, and Winter is half over now. I need to keep my eye on the prize here.

My video recorder is set for The Walking Dead. I can catch up later. I have a growler full of good Porter to keep me company while my wife watches her show. I hope you guys all had a great weekend that was either fun or productive. (Hopefully a bit of both.)

So let's hear it. Are you into the Grammy's or The Walking Dead? Did you work on promotions, or write something new? Did you read something new, or practice your Hoodoo? How was your weekend?

* Not the name on my wife's birth certificate.

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Is Tony Bennett a Vampire?

I was on my commute this morning when Telephone, by Lady Gaga, played on the radio. It’s kind of catchy, and I enjoyed it. I remember when she made a Christmas special with Tony Bennett, and I heard she put out an album of classics with Bennett recently.

My mind went to work, and I did a little bit of research. Gaga and Bennett are touring together. Now I don’t like every tune by Lady Gaga, but I admit she is very talented. Strange, but talented.

More research; Bennett is 88 years old. Born in 1926. This is well past the age most people work, and well beyond the age most people are comfortable travelling extensively.

Gaga’s last album didn’t sell too well, and I don’t recall hearing about any big hits from it either.

Deep in the corners of my memory, I remember when Linda Ronstadt put out an album called What’s New. It was her take on some of the classics. She attracted Tony Bennett, and his career was reborn. I don’t recall hearing from Ronstadt ever again.

I saw in my research where Faith Hill did a duet with Bennett once. When was the last time she had a hit?

A bit more research showed that Bennett did a duet with Amy Winehouse. She’s dead now, and Bennett is going strong.

So on one side of the scale we have some very talented ladies, whose careers, well, let’s say diminished. The other side of the scale holds Tony Bennett at 88 years of age who keeps going strong. It almost seems like as the girls lose something, Bennett gains something.

If Taylor Swift’s agent wants to make a protective strike, I heard Bennett’s heart is in San Francisco.

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Another helping of Macabre Macaroni

Robbery

Carl still wore his work overalls. I slid over one barstool and made room for him. The bartender brought us each a longneck and I took a swig.

“This is the one,” Carl said. “If there’s ever going to be another one, this is it.”

I told him it’s too risky. I’d already served eight months for grand theft.

“You’re some rule follower, alright. When did you get permission to hang out in the bar, or with me, for that matter?” He asked.

I hung my head. “It’s not the same. They yell if I break those rules. I go back inside if we pull another stunt.”

He called me a pussy. Said it was a rich old lady, with no security and no dogs. He cleaned her rain gutters last week. She offered him lunch, and the house is full of antiques and has a safe.

We worked our way through a dozen more beers. The old lady has a caretaker that comes on Tuesday and Thursday. Carl goes back to patch the basement concrete on Friday.

“Look, she knows me. I can’t go inside, but I can drive,” Carl said. “I’ll leave the basement door unlocked and it’s all yours.”

I promised to think about it, and headed for the homeless shelter. You have to get there early to get a cot after it turns cold. I sat through the revival meeting, but couldn’t help thinking about having enough money to make a clean start.

Thursday I went looking for Carl. He said it was a cinch and told me about the jewelry in the safe. I’m not a safe man, but he said it’s small enough to take the whole thing.

I paused and rubbed my eyes.

“Look, man. This is happening,” Carl said. “If you don’t want in, I have another guy. I’m only going to get one chance at that basement door, and she can’t get up and down the stairs to lock it.”

“It isn’t like she needs all that stuff, does she?”

“She never leaves the house. Probably hasn’t worn jewelry in ten years. You can leave her a tea set or something.”

“Pick me up two blocks down from the shelter. I’m in.”

It wasn’t right, but I’d done it before. Maybe this would be the last time. We’d done a lot more that I never had to answer for.

Carl pulled his work truck up to the curb, and I climbed inside. It was better than I hoped. Big yard, lots of trees, no close neighbors. Best of all, nice and dark. It was perfect, but then Carl knew his stuff. We watched for an hour and no lights came on. No one moved behind the curtains.

I grabbed my flashlight and hurried across the back yard. The door was one of those that sloped away from the house and had stairs leading down. It didn’t even squeak as I opened it. Carl must have oiled the hinges. I left it open for my escape.

Once I was down the stairs, I turned on the light. The basement was empty and Carl’s fresh patch showed up on the far wall. One flight up, and I was inside.

It was cold inside, but there was sweat on my brow. I made my way to the safe room and looked around. Six chairs surrounded an ancient dining room table. The safe was in the china hutch.

“You’re late,” a feminine voice said.

I froze. I swear there wasn’t anyone here. I even shined my light around the table. I turned slowly and there she was. Long dress, expensive shoes, beautiful.

“That will be all tonight, Carl.”

He must have followed me inside, because he said, “Yes, Ma’am,” and filled the door way that was my only exit. He closed the door and locked it.
She took down two wine glasses and opened a bottle of wine. “It’s so hard getting in homes any more. No one will invite me inside these days. Too much crime.”

I worked my way toward the window. She filled the glasses and pushed one towards me.

“But you aren’t burdened by such restrictions, are you. You can rob any old woman you like.”

I fumbled for the window latch. It was stuck and I glanced down. When I looked back up she was right beside me. She hadn’t made a sound.

She grabbed my shirt and nearly lifted me off the ground. “Have a glass of wine. We have all night.”

She tossed me into one of the chairs and smiled. Her fangs must have been three inches lon–

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A Writing Buddy

A few weeks ago, Mari Wells put out a call for a writing buddy on her blog. I’ve always enjoyed her blog, and the deep research he she does into paranormal creatures and themes. This is real dedication that can serve a writer well. She asked for someone to bounce ideas off of, plot issues, character traits, that sort of thing. She wanted someone she could trust to keep things confidential, and asked for someone with a fifth grade sense of humor.

I thought, Hey, I have a fifth grade sense of humor, and dropped her a line.

We’re still getting acquainted at this point. I haven’t asked her to pull my finger or anything – yet. (Or was that a fourth grade sense of humor.)

I was surprised to learn she’s somewhere in Idaho. I know people from all over the world, and didn’t expect that. We’ve never met and may never meet. (Idaho is a big place.)

We exchanged projects and she sent me a short story. It was an awesome piece about one of her characters when she was young. It was really intriguing and she submitted it to an Anthology. I’ll let her tell you more about it over at her blog.

I may have taken advantage, because I sent her the entire manuscript for Will ‘O the Wisp. She stayed up all night and read it straight through. She had some complimentary things to say about it, and I’m pretty excited to share it with the world. She also suggested a few changes that I think are spot on.

I think I’m in her debt now. There is a difference between a short story and a novel. I look forward to her next request. This is kind of fun.

Mari just spent a month blogging about vampires, and there are some really unusual legends I’ve never heard of. One of her posts gave me some really good ideas. I may never write a vampire story, but if I do I know what I’m going to write about.

Mari is a creative lady. I’d appreciate it if my followers would go check out her homes on the web. Leave a comment and consider giving her a follow.

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I Just Couldn’t Keep this to Myself

I find little bits and pieces of news through various media. I thought my followers might appreciate this one. Dracula.

It might be a writing prompt to some of you. It’s certainly interesting.

“Go ahead, open it. What’s the worst that could happen?” – C. S. Boyack

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Things I’d love to write about, but won’t

I’m sure most writers have a list similar to this one. For one reason or another, there are things we enjoy, but will never write about.

Keep in mind, this is a blog post, not a vow. If I ever get popular, I reserve the right to change my mind.

Werewolves. I love classic werewolves. The scary ones, where you wind up having sympathy for the human with an uncontrollable condition, and with the madness that comes from knowing what he’s done. I really don’t like superhero werewolves, prancing shirtless werewolves, cat people, werepigs etc. And what’s with the trend where they can change any old time they like, moon or no moon? I’m afraid a return to the traditional wouldn’t even get a second look from readers.

The Headless Horseman. This is just a cool character. He’s been done well, and he’s been done poorly. He’s just something I prefer to enjoy. I don’t feel the need to write about him. There are other revenge based stories I can write.

Vampires. Again, I mean the classic traditional vampire of legend. There was a romantic tragedy about them that created sympathy in readers. They’ve become everything from splash, gore, and shock to boy toy eye candy. They can walk around in daylight now. The traditional protections don’t seem to work anymore. I’m afraid they’ve been bastardized beyond recognition.

Zombies. I actually wrote about them a couple of times. I think it’s out of my system now. In one case, I changed them into something else entirely. I never used the word zombie at all, and now they are something else. It was the hive mind I needed, not the undead. One of my favorite zombie characters are the Cybermen from Dr. Who. If you think about it, Cybermen use humans to make more Cybermen. They’re scary, and I think they’re done well.

Classic monsters are like a magician’s trick. We’ve been shown how it works, and the magic is gone. The public has seen so many of them they aren’t frightening any longer. Readers expect a zombie or werewolf behind every rock.

I respect those who want to take them for one more ride. They can be as unique as we are; therefore, their stories can be different. I just won’t be one who takes them out and plays with them.

I don’t feel the same way about robots, magic, or space. Natural dangers sell themselves. Sharks, psychos, evil corporations, and governments are in the evening news. These are broader brush issues and variations are easier to come up with.

What do the rest of you think? Are there characters you love, but won’t write? Are there characters you won’t read about anymore? Movies that you’ll pass up, because the monsters are tired?

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