Waiting for a Miracle – Chapter 7

Ah, the light of day. It’s just so nauseating. Still, holding the City city council hostage is usually a day gig, unless you’re willing to wait for a filibuster. With as eager as our city’s council is to pass laws and go home, that happens even less frequently than a blue moon, so I reiterate, this was definitely a daylight plot.

I stood in front of the City city council building, dressed in civilian attire, and waiting for Wallace to arrive. Leona was beside me wearing a pair of black jeans and a black fitted t-shirt that read “I’m with stupid” and sported an arrow pointing up. Her real ears were tucked under a baseball cap and her pair of prosthetic ears which matched her skin tone were jutting out from around the sides of her hat.

For me, civilian attire meant blue jeans and a grey sweatshirt. I was additionally disguised with a full beard, which I suppose is silly since I always wear a mask. I wasn’t in the mood to take any chances, and I worried that someone might remember me from my early days before I wore my mask.

Wallace spotted me from the intersection just as Leona pointed him out, and he smiled as he strolled across the street. He looked like we were planning a field trip, not a mass execution. Just then, I wondered which of us was more crazy.

Bonus Blog Fiction: Job Interview With a Vampire – Part 7

Sunday, June 27, 1998

Vicky opened the door and beamed a wide smile at Bethany and the three people standing behind her. The woman standing directly behind Bethany bore such a strong resemblance that their relation was obvious. Bethany was dressed in tight black jeans and a tighter blue tube top. From Vicky’s lofty perspective, the top offered a great view of the short teen’s cleavage.

Bethany’s mother was wearing the same style of jeans, and her white top was pushed off of her shoulders. She was showing off almost as much of her chest as her daughter.

To a breast fan like Vicky, the twin-twin peaks view was like a kinky all-you-can-eat buffet with a mom and daughter special.

The tall, lanky dark-skinned man standing beside Bethany’s mother had to be the necromancer. The biggest clue was the dead taxidermy-stuffed cat tucked under his arm. His head was shaved, but his cheeks and chin were not. He had a well-trimmed black beard and moustache, and he wore round glasses with thick lenses that magnified his eyes.

He’d chosen to dress appropriately for a visit with vampires with a black dress shirt and black slacks. Even his hiking boots were black. Vicky approved.

Waiting for a Miracle – Chapter 6

Several hours had gone by, and I had moved back upstairs to eat after I finished work on a few projects. I had just washed the dishes from my snack when I heard Wallace complaining as he and Leona climbed the stairs from my laboratory to my apartment. Though he sounded upset, I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Leona was the first through the door, giving me a wave and a grin. “Bitch and moan, gripe and complain. I swear, Duggan, that’s all I’ve been hearing from this guy from the moment we left.”

Wallace was right behind her with a look of pure fury. His jaw muscles were bulging, and his face was red. He had an eye tic, and bulging veins in his forehead. Not really attractive.

He dropped into my recliner, so I took the couch and once again allowed Leona to lean on me when she sat down. Using what I hoped was the same soothing tone as Wallace, I asked, “What happened that got your feathers so ruffled up?”

There MIGHT be a contest coming…

Right, I’ll make this short and simple. I want to run a contest, with the prize being a co-starring role in the next vampire book. I’ve seen how my vampires are the most popular creatures in the Mystical World Wars setting, and I’m hoping that because people like them more, they will want to participate in this contest to become a part of the vampires’ world.

I am thinking of making online reviews the contest entries. People can post multiple reviews to make multiple entries into the contest. The same review can also be posted to multiple sites for the same effect.

The book in question will be a murder mystery musical, and it will find Lucas and the Colby triplets trapped on board a cruise ship, trying to solve a grisly series of murders to save their own necks.

My intention of having the contest would be to generate more review, and also to generate interest in my current readers to become more vocal fans. So if I only got five entries, I’d just cancel the contest and forget I ever said anything.

Additionally, I’m trying to gauge how many of you would want to get into a vampire book, so I’ll be watching the comments to see how this goes. If this posts gets high traffic, but few comments, there’s no reason why I should bother holding the contest.

You might wonder why I keep harping on getting new reviews, or on trying to get you folks to talk. Well let me show you a pretty picture:

Those lovely numbers are almost double my normal traffic this week, and they came because I got a whole bunch of reviews all coming in at the same time. Each review pulls down only a few new readers, but because there’s so many new reviews out, the trickles of traffic combine into a veritable flood.

Your reviews do that. That’s why I keep begging for them. And, if it might get you to write more reviews, I’d be willing to hold regular contests for co-starring or guest starring roles.

So, how about it? Do this sound like a contest you’d enter? Or is it like every promotion else I do, not even worthy of a meh?

Bonus Blog Fiction: Job Interview With a Vampire – Part 6

Friday, June 26, 1998

After the long night she’d had, the last thing Vicky wanted was a cold meal. Calling the house, she spoke with Lucas, who suggested that she visit the Colby sisters. This sounded like a fine idea to Vicky, who took down the address, and then called a cab.

Having a random thought, she told the cab dispatcher, “Oh, and tell the driver I’m a very tall albino. I swear, if he leaves me stranded over my looks, I’m going to sue you for discrimination.”

This threat worked, and she took the cab to the house of the Colby triplets, Lucas’ favorite pets. It wasn’t their taste so much as their odd behavioral quirks that he adored.

But at the door, she was greeted by a male voice who grumbled, “Oh, good Christ. Aren’t you people supposed to hate sunlight?”

Waiting for a Miracle – Chapter 5

Wallace, being the eternal optimist, was naturally excited when I gave him the news that the nanites had located Miracle Man. Still I remained tight-lipped as I flew him to my lab. Well no, that’s a bit of a lie.

You see, he had just showered before I’d arrived, and the scent of the shampoo in his damp hair was intoxicating. So Wallace had to slap my hand when I got just a bit too friendly by nipping the back of his neck through my mask.

He was laughing when he did it, so I’m sure I didn’t cause him any offense. So although I wasn’t exactly tight-lipped during the short flight, I didn’t say anything about Miracle Man’s place of residence, or the fact that I’d already paid my hero a visit.

Once we got to the lab, I flew in through the open window and set him down without a word, prolonging the suspense by making ‘adjustments’ to my spare suit.

Lend me your rears…

Hey, let me tell you people something!

Something!

And, let me say another thing: Another thing.

Friends and foes, lend me your rears! No? Fine! Then I stand before you because you don’t trust me to stand behind you! I speak to you not as a countryman, but as a citywoman. I speak in public of a matter most private. But I speak of an important matter of great import, which I will import to you. I import, and you decide. (Then I retort, and you deride).

In the past, for my thoughts, I have been criticized by critics most hypocritical. I have been attacked, berated, castrated, denied, embarrassed, fucked, groped, hit, interrogated, jumped, kicked, lambasted, mauled, nipped, overlooked, punched, quarantined, razzed, stymied, underrated, vandalized, wounded, x-rayed, yelled at and zapped.

But I am still here. I have no idea what I’m saying, but I will say it with conviction! And I will say it until anyone proves it cannot be said! And anyone who says it cannot be said is just a so-and-so saying stuff!

Um…never mind. I forgot what I wanted to say.

Bonus Blog Fiction: Job Interview With a Vampire – Part 5

Thursday, June 25, 1998

Vicky’s training took all of one hour before the trainer left. She had a clipboard of locations to patrol and mark with the time that she checked the rooms. So long as she made circuits every half hour, she was free to use the computer at the front desk to surf the web. It was something to try on another shift, but for the time being, she felt better walking.

This was the beauty of work. She would do nothing, and get paid to do it. In this way, she was doing something useful, even if it was just walking and looking scary.

Yeah, but I don’t look scary, she thought. Snickering, she added, I look like a dork in a rent-a-cop uniform.

Her employers had provided her with the rest of her uniform: a metal badge, a hat and a “holster” containing a long heavy metal flashlight.

Taking out her flashlight, she flicked it on and off down a hall.

She snarled and said, “Freeze, dirt bag! Don’t make me flash you again!”

Waiting for a Miracle – Chapter 4

It was two days before I needed to see Wallace again. Or rather it was two nights, as I’m not really a day shift kind of guy. Anyway, I had a crisis in the lab that I felt he could help me with. The crisis was also partly his fault, and so 3 AM found me outside his front door, pounding on it like a madman. I am a madman of course, but that’s completely beside the point.

The porch light went on and I sighed with relief. A sting of guilt lanced my neck as Wallace’s wife opened the door, and I ducked my head and hunched my shoulders.

She looked at me in anger until she recognized my suit. Then she slammed the door in my face without so much as an “oh my God, please don’t kill me!”

I considered blasting through the door with a laser and killing her for being rude. I let the notion go, having a hunch that doing so might upset Wallace. I waited on the doorstep, listening to his wife wailing at him not to answer the door.

These Dreams…

It was my father I first talked to about my dreams. I wasn’t sure who else to approach, and it was such a strange problem to have. It’s just that I don’t remember the vast majority of my dreams. I know, most people don’t. We wake up recalling what we’d just dreamt, but within minutes the clarity and detail is lost.

Except, I had certain dreams that didn’t fade. The memories stayed with me, haunting me. They weren’t bad dreams, but I always felt like there was something important happening. Why else would I remember them?

But this isn’t why I’d come to him. The more recent problem was. I’d begun to experience moments that felt like I was reliving one of my dreams. I would have the exact same conversations, go through the same actions. Of course I already knew what déjà vu was thanks to Monty Python, and this didn’t seem right. I didn’t feel like I’d done the same thing. I felt certain it was my dreams guiding me.