Of course, everyone had a theory, but her mother was adamant that it was only birthing nerves. ‘Everyone’s nervous with the first, Ally, no one thinks any the less of you because you’re scared,’ her mother said as they looked around the partially renovated nursery. ‘Just because Geoff’s first wife… you know what happened, not every woman has that type of problems.’

Alice’s mum wasn’t known for her tactfulness. Nobody mentioned Estella, Geoff’s first wife, she’d been pregnant when she’d run off with the next door neighbour. They’d never come back to the village and although he’d tried to find her, he hadn’t even been able to apply for a divorce, or so he’d told Alice. Alice’s mum had a different theory. She and Alice’s dad didn’t like Geoff and were always telling Alice that this was just an excuse not to marry her. Alice knew her mum worried because Geoff was so much older, but sometimes Alice wished her mum could accept the relationship even though she knew her father never would.

‘Give it a rest mum and help me strip this wall back.’

‘You shouldn’t be doing this. Where’s Geoff?’

‘He’s away until the end of the week with work. He told me to leave it, but I thought it would be a nice surprise if I’d stripped all the old paper off and made a start.’

‘I can ring your dad and he’ll come over and have this finished in a jiffy.’

‘Would he come?’

‘If he knows Geoff is away, then yes absolutely.’

Twenty minutes later she and her mother watched her father, in full DIY regalia, start to strip back the wallpaper.

‘That’s odd,’ he said scratching his balding head as he stepped back to look at the wall.

Both women stepped forward to inspect what he’d found. At one time, there had obviously been a door in this wall probably connecting it to the small dressing room off the master bedroom. The old house had been unsympathetically modernised during the 80s before Geoff and Estella bought it.

‘It’s well sealed Ally, should I just paper over it like before?’

‘Would it be a big job dad to unseal it and re-instate the door, after all it would make life easier when the baby needs me in the night.’

‘Up to you, sweetie, when’s he home?’ her father asked Alice.

‘Not till Friday and it’s only Wednesday today so…’

‘Where’s his tools kept? Don’t tell me, he doesn’t do DIY does he? Look the easiest thing would be for me to finish stripping the rest of the walls today and come back tomorrow with everything I need to knock through, okay?’

‘Do you mind?’

‘Not really, I’m doing this for you and my grandchild, not for him.’

Later that night as Alice lay in bed waiting for Geoff’s late call she smiled, bang on nine o’clock the phone next to her rang and for the next twenty minutes he talked non-stop about his day, and how dumb doctors were. Finally, she gave-up on trying to tell him about the nursery, after all it was going to be such a marvellous surprise. She’d come to terms with Geoff’s selfish nature, he was twenty-five years older, but she was sure once the baby arrived he would change. She wondered if he’d ever say I love you first. As she fell asleep, she thought she heard crying, but it was only the wind in the trees.

***

‘I’ve use the Stanley knife to score all this sealant, God knows why they used so much,’ Alice’s dad said as he bent to pick up the clawed crowbar from his toolkit.

Alice held onto her mum as the screeching of metal and rending of plasterboard filled the room.  Finally, the plasterboard shattered and came away. Alice’s dad shone a flashlight into the doorway.

Alice gasped, her mother screamed. There, in the aperture, gagged and bound to dining room chairs, the same design that surrounded the dining table, sat Geoff’s first wife and his next-door neighbour, decomposed almost beyond recognition their packed suitcases placed neatly at their feet.

Genre: Fiction, Poetry–Words: 4167–Published: March 2, 2010–Purchase on Smashwords

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The brightness of the blood that pooled around Eldon’s head in the snow looked like a halo, a devils halo.  I did not mourn, why should I, the man wanted me dead, wanted Kane dead and thought that he had done so, but we surprised him, the fool.  No, I didn’t mourn, I reveled in it.

I looked at Kane, half of me celebrated, the other knew what had to be done, my Birthright.  I knew who and what I was, somewhat, but  what I didn’t know needed to be found out.  So much of my life was held from me and I still needed to know more, a lot more.  I was a Rosewood, at least part of me was.  I felt deep down that the mother I had always known, grew to love and missed, was not my true mother.  How do I know this?  I’m not exactly sure myself, something inside of me, something I sensed, an innate feeling that I can’t explain and that’s where Kane came into play.

This is a book that I plan on taking the reader into the past, as well as, into the future, for Candra’s life is still a mystery and as she pursues her birthright, she encounters forces sometimes stronger than herself or Kane.

Full of action, mystery, suspence and cliff hangers that will keep you wanting more…”Do you trust me?” as Kane would say.

Robert A. Read is a member and regular contributor in the Vamplit Writers’ Group, his website Mysteral – Night Prowler has links the author’s work in print and on the Internet and you can follow his author page on Facebook.

Read all of Robert A. Read’s winning poems on Blood Read

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If you are interested in becoming an editing intern with Vamplit Publishing we will advertising soon both here and on Vamplit Publishing from 2011.

Shaming and blaming, the neighbours stare
bumping uglies with the dead on a dare.
Slaking and making, a passion that swells
kicking her feet she can almost hear bells.

Thrashing and crashing, gasping for air
she screams her passion, pumping despair.
Drained and depleted, she stares in his eyes
dead to the world, just like regular guys.

Grace Mahoney

‘You know me I’m just this dumpy, little female with frizzy hair who couldn’t change a plug, a technophobe through and through and he was…’ I stop and David tries to deny my description of myself and I smile. He can’t make me change and anyway I like me exactly as I am. I prepare to continue, forcing myself to focus on the past. ‘How to describe him, I pick my words with caution because you will think I’m exaggerating. You will for a moment think I’ve lost my mind David, but I haven’t.’ I look into David’s eyes and know he understand me, but still I wonder if that will be enough.

‘He was amazingly tall, dark and handsome, with skin that was perfect, without flaw, and eyes of the palest blue, so blue in fact that they seemed almost without colour.  I should really stop now, but his body was just all male, perfect and I loved the way he made me feel safe, as if the world would be no match for him, if anyone tried to hurt me.  I’m not the kind of woman that sets great store on looks, I can’t afford to with my non-descript mousy hair and slightly crooked nose. No matter how many times he said that my nose was cute, I was never going to believe him.  I know what I looked like on the outside; his looks set him apart, mine were just average.  Yet still, I secretly hoped he would want me as more than his friend.’ I say, feeling uncomfortable. The man beside me is hanging on every word, looking into my eyes and just for a moment I regret starting this story. I do regret the past and wish the future wasn’t so certain. So I continue telling David about him.

‘One hour to sunset and I was tense. He always arrived on my doorstep just after dark with a DVD, half a ton of chocolate and smile so big I was almost blinded, but tonight he wanted to tell me something.  Every week, since we had met, Friday night had been movie night.  He picked the movie and he must have liked me, because every once in a while we got a chick flick. The only rule was no horror, we agreed to this after one particularly gory vampire shocker.  We didn’t enjoy it at all, so no horror films.  We sat on my ancient couch and talked and laughed, sometimes when it was cold we snuggled, just a little, he said I had the coldest feet in the world.  So every friday night he came over and the night wasn’t lonely. We stayed in and that was fine with both of us.  I had never been to his home, he’d never invited me, so sometimes I wondered if he was hiding something.  We never really talked about our lives, I wished….Wishing never gets you anywhere and everyone has regrets. I’m sure if he was married, with half a dozen kids, I’d have known.  Probably.  He wasn’t married with kids, after all I’m as careful as a girl can be and choose my friends very carefully.’ I say and it is absolutely true. I, like many females of a certain age, may be tempted by men who are not free, but I never cross the line, complications of that kind would destroy me.’ I pause and hope David understands, because I’ve become so hungry, for his love I need him to feel empathy.

‘He knew I didn’t really like loud music and the “club scene” from our first meeting.  I had decided that a single, twenty-first century woman should be able to go out and paint the town red on a Friday night on her own.  Having been single for what felt like a century I just wanted to find some company, okay male company, and so I bought appropriate clothes and I hobbled off to a club I’d heard a man in the supermarket talking about.  Needless to say it didn’t work out well, the music was too loud, the club too hot and the men too coarse for my taste.  I sat in a corner debating whether or not to leave and he found me.  I almost sighed out loud, not that he would have heard me over the thump of the base, this was the one I’d been waiting for.  He was so perfect and those pale eyes seemed to bore into my very soul.  I was never able to think straight when I looked into his eyes, but I didn’t care. I was thirsting for companionship and someone I could connect with.’ I stand and walk to the open window to breath in the night air. I feel its chill invade me instantly and I shudder.

‘Then one night I heard his distinctive knock at my door.  I knew as opened the door something had changed.  Gone was the light up the world smile and the obligatory DVD and chocolate were missing too.  Nothing about him was normal, his eyes were red, his skin almost irridescently pale and he was staring at me with such a hungry look in his eyes.  Just the sight of him frightened me.’ Even standing by the window, knowing that David is sitting on the couch, I feel a little scared, a little lost in the past. Perhaps, by telling David, I can banish the other face forever.

‘We sat and he held my hand and stared at the floor, composing himself to tell me his secret.  To finally let me fully into his life. Then my friend told me his secret and I must have apppeared shocked. He told me about his sister and their childhood. Finally he told me she was dead and he was alone in the world except for me.’ I look up at the stars as I speak and in the stars I find some peace. Truely all I’ve ever wanted was peace and not to be alone. I touch the glass with a finger and feel the cold against my finger tip.

‘I asked him what had happened, but he wouldn’t tell me. I realised he was in shock and I told him that he did’t have to do this, I did’t need to know anything.  I wished I could think of something to say to take all the hurt away.  I know what I am and I know I don’t do emotional too well.  I just never know the right thing to say.’ Smilling gently at David as I touch the night sky through the glass with my finger tip pointing to the stars.

‘I shifted a little so I could see his beautiful translusent eyes, to drown in their calm.  I knew that for as long as I wanted, I could and would have him in my life.  Then I saw something in his eyes that was new.  As he looked at me, I felt for the first time in his company truely alive.’ I say, looking at David and their faces merge in my mind.

‘Well my friend the vampire, where do we go from here he asked me and smiled. I had thought my secret safe still, as I had with you until tonight David.’ I turn from the window and the night to face David. ‘Remember, David, that I have spent forever checking to see if my friends have flowers or a stake behind his back.’ He may have handed me roses as he arrived, but I know he has a stake in his coat. I nearly laugh aloud at the thought of asking David if that’s a stake in his pocket or if he’s just pleased to see me.

‘I do not trust easily, time is nothing to me.  This life I have is longer than most could bare.  I have lived lifetimes on my own.  I have homes all over the country and I move from one to another in each lifetime.  I have no memory of any family and have never met anyone else like me. Trusting people has never seemed the sensible option to me, David.’ I watch his hands, hoping he doesn’t reach for the stake in his pocket.

‘Let me finish my story, David, then decide. Anyway he and I were at the point of no return so I listen as he talked his way into my life. The only person I’ve ever connected with, other than my sister, is you and while my sister was alive, she was my responsibility.  Now I have nothing to go home to, tonight or any night.  No one will care if I don’t turn up for work on Monday.  I can finally be where I want to be and do what I want to do he said, looking at me with such hope that I could have cried, that is if I could cry.’

‘I stood and walked to the window, the darkness is always comforting and I remember smiling at the thought of having someone again.  Of sharing my life and not being alone just for the short time he had left and that made me pause; only another forty years or so and I would be alone again. I always end up alone David.’ I say, hoping he will understand, but dreading the outcome whether he does or not.

‘If you share my life,’ I told him, ‘you’d better know the downside.  I don’t go out in direct sunlight, ever. I live only in the night, daylight is like poison to me.  I don’t sleep in a coffin, but I do sleep alone and I don’t have a problem with crosses or garlic.  I do however need to drink blood to live and, although I don’t feed often, I do think you should know the downside of my life.  I have never killed anyone and people don’t remember when I’ve fed.  I have never fed from you and I never will.  Most importantly I cannot make you like me. Then I asked if there was anything else he need to know? In that moment I turned and he was there holding me tight. He asked me if I would ever leave him and I told him truthfully, that he would never be alone again.

‘Then for the first time he kissed me.  I might just say here that I’m a bit toothy and this may have shocked him a little.  Credit where credit is due, only the smallest of hesitation and he opened my mouth with his tongue and plunged in.  I could smell the life in him, taste his humanity and I was in awe for the passion I felt in him.  Shocked by the love I felt for him in my heart that barely beats.  Then the kiss ended and nose to nose he whispered to me, “My friend the vampire.”‘

‘That’s it, David, conventional happy ending for an unconventional couple.  We stayed together all of his life and we laughed for most of it.  Any sadness in him evaporated the day we left and started a new life at my farm in Wales. He loved the life and when we moved on I know he missed the isolation, but I can only last a few years on animal blood and then my thirst becomes unbearable.  We moved a lot as he aged, but he did so love to travel and with the modern world came more freedom for me.’ I say, wondering how I sound to David, will he believe me. After all David is the first man to bring a stake into my home for two centuries maybe David will be the first to catch me in the lie.

‘When he finally died, we had spent a meagre fifty years together.  Too short a time, for such happiness.  I don’t regret a single minute of this sadness.  I only regret that I could not keep him forever.’  I finish my story and turn to a David sitting on a similar old couch, staring at me with similar wide cow eyes hanging on every word, just as they always did. This is the defining moment in our relationship, will he choose life and try to kill me or like all the others would he sucumb to the lure of the vampire. Either way David, like all those sad, unsuspecting men before him is mine.

‘Well, do you still want to be with me, David? As I’ve told you I can’t give you anything.’  I say in all honesty, I never make false promises. I don’t like being a vampire, honestly, but if you believe that you’ll believe anything.

Not answering he kisses me.  They always do, always shocked by the sharp teeth that strokes their tongues.  Always shocked as they feel the teeth I hide from the world nip them gently.  A prelude, a taste of things to come.  I’m weak, I know it and if my fantasy of a life lived without death, their death is just that, where’s the harm.  I let them believe that I offer them friendship and companionship without end and in a way I do because they are dead from the moment they meet me.  For I stalk my prey well and choose only those who suit my purpose, my appetite.  Sad lonely men, ones with a little money to keep me and no one to miss them when they suddenly disappear. I am always their friend, their life feeds me, their blood sustains me, but sadly only in a limited way. After a while, like a dieter fallen off the wagon, sips and tastes when they visit are just not enough. I need to feast, to lose myself in an orgy of feeding to watch the terror and gorge myself on the fear raging uncontrolled in their veins. I love the taste of fear, its almost sexual.  The head rush alone is too die for.

Sadly David doesn’t stand a chance, before he can use the stake, I have savaged his jugular vein with my sharpe little teeth and lapping frantically, he tastes like nectar.  His eyes wide with shock lock with my now blood red eyes. For the first time he sees me as I really am. A dark angel healing him from life’s sorrow. His body slumps, his eyes glaze and I know a moments hesitation, should I save some for later. Then it’s too late, like a yummy chocolate milkshake, he’s finished and so am I.

Why do I do this to myself?  I could just hunt the night and take what I want without once having to talk to them.  Well I do eat out occasionally,but I like to know where my food comes from. I have no end, that I know of, and so I get bored.  I like to play with my food, pick at it a bit and then finish with an orgy or gluttony as I drain it dry.  Fill myself with everything not just its blood. but its adoration, love, fear and finally hopelessness.  I tried to talk this one out of it, but I do so hate to be alone.  I do so hate to be hungry. I’m to full to clean up after dinner, so I put on a film and promise myself I’ll clear away after it’s finished.

By Grace Mahoney