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Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Stacy Pine Saunders's invitation is awaiting your response
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Stacy Pine Saunders's invitation is awaiting your response
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Tuesday, February 10, 2015
I'd like to add you to my professional network on LinkedIn
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Monday, April 26, 2010
Installment 3
Chapt 7
A cat.
Shayna mustered up the strength to crawl over to the front door to her apartment. Every movement sent a stream of acid burning through her muscles, pooling inward to gather in the pit of her stomach. The light mewling in the vestibule was where she was focused. The carpet felt as if it was looped with razor blades instead of polyester pile. The door loomed large but seemed to be miles away instead of inches. She had to get to that sound and smell.
With a trembling outstretched hand, she reached up to slowly turn the knob of her front door. The motion was foreign to her at first. Seeing her hands move as if in slow motion followed by smoky trails of ghosted fingers, she realized that her shaking was slightly faster than what her mind could process. The speed could be jarring at times as she was still adjusting to her new vampiness.
The door opened in a flash, revealing the nearly starved black and white feline that had been in residence upstairs until recently. He immediately scampered back into the farthest corner of the dimly lit entrance hall and gave a loud hiss from being startled.
The smell that had brought her to the door was more concentrated now. Shayna could feel that odd sensation of her teeth shifting down. She ran her tongue tentatively over the needle-sharp tips. Her salivary glands started to work overtime, creating a mouthful of anesthetic liquid that would ease the pain of fang insertion. This was one of the distinct bonuses that most of the books she had read did not properly describe. The combination of vampire enthrallment and the unique properties of their saliva would make for a deadly combination for fragile human meals.
I wonder how it works on cats.
Shayna could hardly believe that she was about to pig out on her former neighbor’s kitty.
But he smells so good.
She caught the gaze of her intended snack and tried her new mind-tricks out for size. She looked deeply into the cat’s beautiful green eyes and willed it to come closer. He mewled a bit and took a tentative step towards her, tail swishing to display his displeasure.
Listen lady, I only crapped in your planter box twice. There is no reason for you to be mean to me right now.
“Ok, I am officially off my rocker.” Shayna complained.
Tell me something I don’t already know.
Shayna straightened up and shook her head, startled at the sound of a cat speaking, in perfect English, inside her head. It wasn’t possible. Had she turned into some sort of Dr. Dolittle when she became a vampire? What other animals would be holding conversations in her head? This really sucked.
“Hey there little guy, I am the nice lady from downstairs. Remember me?” she said slowly as she began to crawl towards the cat. He tensed for a moment and pushed backwards at the sound of her voice. Shayna caught his gaze again and willed him forward once more. She was really hungry and he was the only thing on the menu. It was like a bad joke about Chinese restaurants had come true.
The cat relaxed his stance and started towards her again. He crept towards her with his head held low and steady. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was stalking her. Too bad that the opposite was true. She didn’t want to move too quickly and startle him again. She could almost taste the wonderful warmth of his heartbeat and felt her nostrils flare with each stealthy movement. He smelled like a double fudge sundae would to a diabetic.
As she reached for the scruff of his neck, she felt a slight breeze move behind her followed immediately by a cold steel vise being tightened around her neck. She was pulled back abruptly while the door was slammed shut by an unseen hand. Shayna was thrown back onto the couch so quickly that the piece of furniture seemed to have moved to her rather than her to it.
“Do not move” ordered a deep voice that was slightly familiar to her.
In a blur, a cool wrist was in front of her face and in the space of a milisecond, she was attached to an open wound that seemed to bleed champagne. She was unable to do anything other than drink deeply from that delicious fountain. She latched her mouth to the offering and drank until she felt almost giddy. A lightness coursed through her veins and the pain she had been wrestling with suddenly disappeared. She began to see an image in her mind behind heavily lidded eyes. It was unclear at first but seemed to coagulate as she continued to drink.
It was him.
Her eyes flew open and she struggled to focus on the rest of the body that had served as her first meal. She traced the arm back to a finely chiseled torso and up to that marvelous face she had seen just the night before. He was even more breathtaking than she had thought. Yummy.
Stop gawking and give him hell Shayna.
“It is about damn time you showed up” Shayna croaked grumpily. “You better start talking before I decide to sharpen one of these table legs.”
He said nothing in response. His glare spoke volumes, however. It took some of the wind out of her sails.
“What?” she demanded. “What beef can you possibly have with me?” This question was posed in a considerably less self-assured manner than the last statement was. He was kind of creeping her out with that stare.
Still no response, just more glaring.
The last of her moxy left her. “Umm, can you say something please?” she squeeked.
He stared for another moment. Then his face relaxed slightly.
She let out the breath she had no idea she was holding.
“This was such a mistake” whispered David. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
David closed his eyes and worked to make his face as neutral as possible. He couldn’t really blame her for this. It was all his fault. If only he had taken the glimpse of that mark at face value.
“Play of light, my ass” he grumbled.
It was going to be a long night.
A cat.
Shayna mustered up the strength to crawl over to the front door to her apartment. Every movement sent a stream of acid burning through her muscles, pooling inward to gather in the pit of her stomach. The light mewling in the vestibule was where she was focused. The carpet felt as if it was looped with razor blades instead of polyester pile. The door loomed large but seemed to be miles away instead of inches. She had to get to that sound and smell.
With a trembling outstretched hand, she reached up to slowly turn the knob of her front door. The motion was foreign to her at first. Seeing her hands move as if in slow motion followed by smoky trails of ghosted fingers, she realized that her shaking was slightly faster than what her mind could process. The speed could be jarring at times as she was still adjusting to her new vampiness.
The door opened in a flash, revealing the nearly starved black and white feline that had been in residence upstairs until recently. He immediately scampered back into the farthest corner of the dimly lit entrance hall and gave a loud hiss from being startled.
The smell that had brought her to the door was more concentrated now. Shayna could feel that odd sensation of her teeth shifting down. She ran her tongue tentatively over the needle-sharp tips. Her salivary glands started to work overtime, creating a mouthful of anesthetic liquid that would ease the pain of fang insertion. This was one of the distinct bonuses that most of the books she had read did not properly describe. The combination of vampire enthrallment and the unique properties of their saliva would make for a deadly combination for fragile human meals.
I wonder how it works on cats.
Shayna could hardly believe that she was about to pig out on her former neighbor’s kitty.
But he smells so good.
She caught the gaze of her intended snack and tried her new mind-tricks out for size. She looked deeply into the cat’s beautiful green eyes and willed it to come closer. He mewled a bit and took a tentative step towards her, tail swishing to display his displeasure.
Listen lady, I only crapped in your planter box twice. There is no reason for you to be mean to me right now.
“Ok, I am officially off my rocker.” Shayna complained.
Tell me something I don’t already know.
Shayna straightened up and shook her head, startled at the sound of a cat speaking, in perfect English, inside her head. It wasn’t possible. Had she turned into some sort of Dr. Dolittle when she became a vampire? What other animals would be holding conversations in her head? This really sucked.
“Hey there little guy, I am the nice lady from downstairs. Remember me?” she said slowly as she began to crawl towards the cat. He tensed for a moment and pushed backwards at the sound of her voice. Shayna caught his gaze again and willed him forward once more. She was really hungry and he was the only thing on the menu. It was like a bad joke about Chinese restaurants had come true.
The cat relaxed his stance and started towards her again. He crept towards her with his head held low and steady. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was stalking her. Too bad that the opposite was true. She didn’t want to move too quickly and startle him again. She could almost taste the wonderful warmth of his heartbeat and felt her nostrils flare with each stealthy movement. He smelled like a double fudge sundae would to a diabetic.
As she reached for the scruff of his neck, she felt a slight breeze move behind her followed immediately by a cold steel vise being tightened around her neck. She was pulled back abruptly while the door was slammed shut by an unseen hand. Shayna was thrown back onto the couch so quickly that the piece of furniture seemed to have moved to her rather than her to it.
“Do not move” ordered a deep voice that was slightly familiar to her.
In a blur, a cool wrist was in front of her face and in the space of a milisecond, she was attached to an open wound that seemed to bleed champagne. She was unable to do anything other than drink deeply from that delicious fountain. She latched her mouth to the offering and drank until she felt almost giddy. A lightness coursed through her veins and the pain she had been wrestling with suddenly disappeared. She began to see an image in her mind behind heavily lidded eyes. It was unclear at first but seemed to coagulate as she continued to drink.
It was him.
Her eyes flew open and she struggled to focus on the rest of the body that had served as her first meal. She traced the arm back to a finely chiseled torso and up to that marvelous face she had seen just the night before. He was even more breathtaking than she had thought. Yummy.
Stop gawking and give him hell Shayna.
“It is about damn time you showed up” Shayna croaked grumpily. “You better start talking before I decide to sharpen one of these table legs.”
He said nothing in response. His glare spoke volumes, however. It took some of the wind out of her sails.
“What?” she demanded. “What beef can you possibly have with me?” This question was posed in a considerably less self-assured manner than the last statement was. He was kind of creeping her out with that stare.
Still no response, just more glaring.
The last of her moxy left her. “Umm, can you say something please?” she squeeked.
He stared for another moment. Then his face relaxed slightly.
She let out the breath she had no idea she was holding.
“This was such a mistake” whispered David. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
David closed his eyes and worked to make his face as neutral as possible. He couldn’t really blame her for this. It was all his fault. If only he had taken the glimpse of that mark at face value.
“Play of light, my ass” he grumbled.
It was going to be a long night.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Installment 2
Chptr 5
“Owwwww….”
Shayna was suddenly very aware of the lining of her stomach since it felt like it was trying to shred itself for tacos.
“Right, forgot” she sighed as she felt her body light on fire. It was not pleasant by any stretch of the imagination. Think total body meltdown in lava with a napalm chaser. This was that stupid hunger she felt before the sun came up and she went down like a stone.
“Hmmm, I wonder what there is to eat?” she mused sarcastically. There was nothing she could eat in her apartment now. As a matter of fact, she could probably get rid of the kitchen altogether and make it a new office since she would not be needing any of the modern appliances anymore. Except maybe the microwave. She had just laid down a hundred bucks for the thing two weeks ago and she would be damned if she didn’t get her money’s worth. Besides, it was turquoise. How cute is that?
As the burning spiked a bit higher, she was forced to ball herself up in a fetal position on the floor- right where she had fallen that morning. Even her soft and fuzzy flokati wasn’t helping her now. The pain kept intensifying inch by inch and soon, her only thought was regarding how to make it go away. She felt only a burning thirst and pain. Her mind started to narrow down to a pinpoint, which scared her a bit. She was losing the ability to think rationally and even her sense of humor left her. Then she heard it.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter
“What is that sound?” she whispered through clenched teeth.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter
It was stronger now. The sound started out faintly, like the flutter of wings against the wind. Slowly, it became louder and more distinct. A moment later, it was less of a drumming and more of a pounding, like the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears when you hang your head upside down.
That was it. It was a heartbeat.
Just the thought of a heartbeat opened her senses more acutely and she could begin to smell something. It was thick, like a milkshake- but better. It held a weight in her diminished mind. It promised an end to the pain. The smell intensified and opened like the bouquet of a fine cabernet that has been left to breathe. She could distinguish different top and mid notes to the fragrance. Shayna breathed deeply and recognized a heady scent of earth mixed with copper and a rich note that she couldn’t quite place. Salmon.
“huh, wha?” she stammered. “Why do I smell salmon?”
The tentative meow came from her front hall.
“You have got to be kidding me…”
Chapt 6
“I’d best get this over with…” David grumbled to himself.
Why did he have to deal with this now, of all times. He was so close to helping his kind to live a stronger, and less sugar-rush induced life - or death, as it were. He scowled at the phone in his hand like it was a problem. In essence, it was going to be the initial step towards his own ruination. OK, that might be a little overdramatic, but it would be bothersome at the very least. Who needed to find a soulmate this way?
He pressed the keys to reveal his voicemail application. With the quick press of another button, the message from Shayna hurtled itself into the air.
“My number is 231-444-1212. I will be here…waiting. For you. TO. CALL. ME. BACK.”
She had left that subtle voicemail for him nearly twelve hours before. The sun had risen before he could make the decision to contact her, so that kind of put a damper on his ability to act. He had only awakened a short time ago but knew that he needed to get her started in the indoctrination process. There was so much to teach and he wasn’t sure that he was equipped to deal with a darkstar –which is a newbie to the uninitiated.
“Well, you should have thought of that before you went and turned her Tomes…” he chided himself.
Slowly, as if a lamb being led to the slaughter, he dialed the number she had left him in the voicemail. He waited for the call to connect and thought that it might be easier and faster if he just phased to where she was. He still felt the glorious tingle of her blood in his body so he could locate her easily enough.
“Hi, this is Shayna Weston and I am sorry to have missed your call. Please leave a message after the tone and I will get back to you as soon as possible….”
Straight to voicemail. That really was not a good sign. For all he knew, Shayna could be massacring the whole of her neighborhood as he sat motionless, unable to push himself into motion. She could be ripping out the throats of small innocent children while they slept in their beds. She could be dispatching men and women intermittently while others looked on in horror.
This could be a real problem.
David focused on the thing in his core that allowed him to phase – to travel instantly. He opened that awareness and focused on the key element of Shayna’s blood that connected them. Normally, he would take his time to phase and enjoy the strange feeling of weightlessness and shift of space. Tonight, there was no time to dally. He needed to get to her as quickly as possible. The difference of even a second could mean life or death for some unaware human.
There was no time to waste.
“Owwwww….”
Shayna was suddenly very aware of the lining of her stomach since it felt like it was trying to shred itself for tacos.
“Right, forgot” she sighed as she felt her body light on fire. It was not pleasant by any stretch of the imagination. Think total body meltdown in lava with a napalm chaser. This was that stupid hunger she felt before the sun came up and she went down like a stone.
“Hmmm, I wonder what there is to eat?” she mused sarcastically. There was nothing she could eat in her apartment now. As a matter of fact, she could probably get rid of the kitchen altogether and make it a new office since she would not be needing any of the modern appliances anymore. Except maybe the microwave. She had just laid down a hundred bucks for the thing two weeks ago and she would be damned if she didn’t get her money’s worth. Besides, it was turquoise. How cute is that?
As the burning spiked a bit higher, she was forced to ball herself up in a fetal position on the floor- right where she had fallen that morning. Even her soft and fuzzy flokati wasn’t helping her now. The pain kept intensifying inch by inch and soon, her only thought was regarding how to make it go away. She felt only a burning thirst and pain. Her mind started to narrow down to a pinpoint, which scared her a bit. She was losing the ability to think rationally and even her sense of humor left her. Then she heard it.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter
“What is that sound?” she whispered through clenched teeth.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter
It was stronger now. The sound started out faintly, like the flutter of wings against the wind. Slowly, it became louder and more distinct. A moment later, it was less of a drumming and more of a pounding, like the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears when you hang your head upside down.
That was it. It was a heartbeat.
Just the thought of a heartbeat opened her senses more acutely and she could begin to smell something. It was thick, like a milkshake- but better. It held a weight in her diminished mind. It promised an end to the pain. The smell intensified and opened like the bouquet of a fine cabernet that has been left to breathe. She could distinguish different top and mid notes to the fragrance. Shayna breathed deeply and recognized a heady scent of earth mixed with copper and a rich note that she couldn’t quite place. Salmon.
“huh, wha?” she stammered. “Why do I smell salmon?”
The tentative meow came from her front hall.
“You have got to be kidding me…”
Chapt 6
“I’d best get this over with…” David grumbled to himself.
Why did he have to deal with this now, of all times. He was so close to helping his kind to live a stronger, and less sugar-rush induced life - or death, as it were. He scowled at the phone in his hand like it was a problem. In essence, it was going to be the initial step towards his own ruination. OK, that might be a little overdramatic, but it would be bothersome at the very least. Who needed to find a soulmate this way?
He pressed the keys to reveal his voicemail application. With the quick press of another button, the message from Shayna hurtled itself into the air.
“My number is 231-444-1212. I will be here…waiting. For you. TO. CALL. ME. BACK.”
She had left that subtle voicemail for him nearly twelve hours before. The sun had risen before he could make the decision to contact her, so that kind of put a damper on his ability to act. He had only awakened a short time ago but knew that he needed to get her started in the indoctrination process. There was so much to teach and he wasn’t sure that he was equipped to deal with a darkstar –which is a newbie to the uninitiated.
“Well, you should have thought of that before you went and turned her Tomes…” he chided himself.
Slowly, as if a lamb being led to the slaughter, he dialed the number she had left him in the voicemail. He waited for the call to connect and thought that it might be easier and faster if he just phased to where she was. He still felt the glorious tingle of her blood in his body so he could locate her easily enough.
“Hi, this is Shayna Weston and I am sorry to have missed your call. Please leave a message after the tone and I will get back to you as soon as possible….”
Straight to voicemail. That really was not a good sign. For all he knew, Shayna could be massacring the whole of her neighborhood as he sat motionless, unable to push himself into motion. She could be ripping out the throats of small innocent children while they slept in their beds. She could be dispatching men and women intermittently while others looked on in horror.
This could be a real problem.
David focused on the thing in his core that allowed him to phase – to travel instantly. He opened that awareness and focused on the key element of Shayna’s blood that connected them. Normally, he would take his time to phase and enjoy the strange feeling of weightlessness and shift of space. Tonight, there was no time to dally. He needed to get to her as quickly as possible. The difference of even a second could mean life or death for some unaware human.
There was no time to waste.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A new short story...
I have the resume here somewhere. I know it.
Shayna searched her desk for the piece of paper she knew had to be there. Sifting through pile after pile of paper, she cursed the fact that everyone but HER got a super scanner and now she was milling through TOWERS of paper to find that stupid thing. Giving up after 10 minutes, she turned to her keyboard.
Notes of interview after interview were reviewed quickly in the makeshift database she had created when she abandoned the paper mountain. At least she had her laptop. As she calmed down, she felt an odd sensation in her sinus cavity that spread down to her gums…it was kind of like a draining but less ucky. She felt her teeth shift upwards and then, she could close her mouth properly. Suddenly, she stopped.
The thought struck her at that very moment.
Those were my teeth…my flipping teeth. My teeth just shifted their way back into my gums.
Teeth normally don’t do that. Teeth stay exactly where nature (and a VERY good orthodontist) intended them to stay. The only teeth that shifted were those of unlucky boxers and…“Oh crap…how the hell did I become a vampire?” Shayna whined. She let her head bounce on the top of her faux cherry desktop and noticed the lack of pain when it struck. “This is not good…I am really REALLY in trouble here” she breathed.
Shayna Weston was the foremost expert on vampires. She had read 257 books in which vampires existed. Every time she found a writer she liked, she obsessively devoured their books until she could find no more. Women vampires, funny vampires, whiny vampires, sexy vampires and even a vampire pet or two. All of them had the same major thing…big teeth, liquid diet sans coffee and a permanent switch to night shift. She couldn’t be a vampire. She looked too good with a tan. She loved carbs too much. Life (or death) without a sourdough baguette was a life (or death) not worth living. But most of all, she had a real problem with the fact that she will have to see fluorescent t-shirts come back into style over and over. Gag me with a stake.
On the plus side, she looked wicked sexy in black. She could always spray on her glow too. She would never have to lose that extra 10 pounds…bonus! Killa legs with no more shaving. What the hell did she ever gain by being human anyway? Looking down at her newly smooth legs, she smiled. Even that one ugly scar she had on her left shin was gone.
The only thing that confused her was the whole turning thing. That took a lot of time if she remembered correctly. Days even. Considering her last interview was at 10 and it was only 3 now, it wasn’t possible. How could she have become a vampire that quick? Everything that Shayna had read about the process involved mondo amounts of pain, copious amounts of growling and at least one mega sex scene. She had none of that. Nada. Nyet. Zippo.
“Great…I can’t even get THAT right” Shayna lamented to her four office walls. “Wait till I get my hands on that freak! He has a big can of whoop ass waiting and I am shaking it up right now!!!”
It was then that she saw it. Just under her feet was the piece of linen finish stock she was looking for. It was the golden ticket to her downed memory bank. His resume. She bent over slowly, or so she thought, and was eating industrial carpet before she could catch herself. “Forgot about that super-speed thing…” she thought. Mental note, practice doing normal crap again.
She carefully picked up the piece of paper. It looked normal enough. Cover letter…salary request, more BS about him being the best for the job yadda blah etc… Name: David Tomes. She looked at the phone number for a moment and picked up the phone. “Are you flipping kidding me???” His ringback tone was the newest release from Vampire Weekend. And here she thought she was cutting edge. Another mental note: find out about that band and their not-so-tongue-in-cheek name.
When she heard the clickover of the voicemail message, she felt strange. Almost dreamy. His recorded voice was saying something, but she couldn’t quite make it out. Even stranger was the slight warmth that her birthmark started giving off.
She was startled by the tone. “Huh, uh, yeah….. Hi. This is Shayna Weston from Galatea Sleep Partners and I think I met with you earlier this evening. I think you better call me back PRETTY DAMN QUICK MISTER AND TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH ME!!! My number is 231-444-1212. I will be here…waiting. For you. TO. CALL. ME. BACK.”
Click
Shayna shook her head and gave a frustrated sigh. How the hell did this happen?
Chptr 2
He finally slowed down enough to see the blur of landscape beneath him. Looking down, he visualized the small guest house he was occupying in Westchester County and slowly drifted down to the walk. In this quiet, affluent neighborhood surrounded by lush foliage and private lives, David felt most safe. He was secure in the knowledge that it was a Desperate Housewives existence that mostly kept itself hidden from him. The less intrigue he was a part of, the better.
Except tonight.
He started out the night aiming for just another meal ticket. Easy peazy right? Go in, do the vamp specialty, have a nice dinner and leave her with a memory of a great after hours work session. Not this one though. He had scoped the whole thing out. They had lots of night positions available. He could get in without a problem since he was already a “night shifter”. It was his new way of getting a quick bite to eat when he got a job. He didn’t stay in one place very long. David had just discovered sleep disorders. Being in sleep medicine provided a perfect hiding place for him. No blood or excitement to raise his hunger, the job held perfect hours for him since it was overnight and it was at least interesting. His patients were safe from him and he from them. As a matter of fact, they loved him and he often got requests.
He entered the offices and filled out the paperwork like normal. It used to be enough to meet someone and exchange a gentlemanly handshake. Now it was all about the resume, and the application and the background paperwork and the drug screen. It was a wonder ANYONE got a job these days. If it got to that point, he would glamour the staff and get the report in himself.
Shayna had introduced herself and offered him coffee. He could smell the bright scent of caffeine wafting off of her like a top note of perfume. When he politely refused it, she said “let me get this straight, you are a night shifter who doesn’t drink coffee?” Through untrusting eyes, she examined him for a moment. “ok…Whatever!”. He noticed her oversized mug with the painted proverb COFFEE IS LIFE. He knew that he had just lowered his chance of the line of crap he was about to spout being believable to her. David had to work fast on this one.
Her first comment when she had reviewed his application was “catholic school huh? No man I have ever interviewed writes this neatly without being given the ruler treatment by an angry nun or five” She looked at him cautiously, again with the squinty eyes. What was it with this woman? How did she ever become a recruiter with this major attitude? Weren’t they supposed to be nice?
She spit question after question at him about his experience and job history. She gave him her signature stare when he replied that he had not done a lot of research on the company after Shayna asked him about his knowledge of their history. He was actually flustered.
Then he saw it.
The birthmark.
He stared at her for a minute and it wasn’t until she snapped her fingers in front of him that he looked at her face again.
Jesse Jackrabbits and Crackers (he couldn’t use use the NORMAL terms since any religious reference gave him an immediate migraine of monumental proportions); She had the mark.
He smiled and shook his head. He looked at her neck again and it was gone. Maybe just a play of light. Maybe he was just hungry.
David knew he had to do this thing quick. No nice stories, no seducing words. There was not a chance in hell that he was getting this job so just whomp her, chomp her and go. He fixed his eyes on her face and waited for her to make eye contact. When she did, he opened that part of his energy and fixed it on her pupils. When he saw them dilate, he said the words “Come to me” and she slowly rose and walked to him. He saw the way her jacket brushed her hips and followed the curve to her ass. It reminded him of Elizabeth. He hadn’t seen a backside like that since 1840. Shapely, unapologetic and ripe. When she stood in front of him, he tentatively placed his hands on her hips. What he found was beautifully yielding flesh. Why women today had to exercise themselves into bones barely covered by skin was beyond him. But that was not why he was here.
He guided her down to kneel before him as he slowly kept her eyes captured in his gaze. Feeling oddly energized, he felt his fangs lower and sharpen in anticipation of tasting her. He scanned her face for a moment. What he saw while she was open to him was shocking beauty. Her eyes had softened and she lost the downturn to her mouth. Her skin glowed with a vitality that came only from real sun exposure. Lucky girl, no melanoma fears in her mind. Taking it all in, he realized there was something comfortable about her face to him. It was as if he was wrapped in a warm feeling of contentment. How was that possible when only seconds before, she was like the inquisition with breasts? But still, there was a certain sense that he couldn’t identify when he saw her like this.
He knew he really needed a meal. He was acting like a huge ass and had to keep his focus. Slowly he brushed the hair away from her left cheek and gently repositioned her head to expose her neck to him. As he lowered his mouth to touch her skin, he felt an almost electrical charge the moment he made contact. Whoa Nellie…this was new. He felt the tension in her body heighten as he stroked her vein with his tongue to bring it to the surface. She started to make small noises in the back of her throat.
He stopped for a moment, a bit off balance since he was sure he hadn’t glamoured her in a sexual way. He just put the whomp on her to make her docile but her reaction was out of place. Maybe she was just different.
He turned his attention to her neck again and heard the same soft escape of breath when he teased the vein with his tongue. Ignoring the sound, he carefully closed his lips around the pulsing flow of her blood and broke the skin easily. His sharp incisors found their mark as he barely nicked the jugular. Wouldn’t want to kill her, just drink his fill and leave her to be tasted another day. What he was not prepared for was the charged zap of the coppery sweet fluid filling his mouth and his senses. David couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the taste of her. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He was immediately overtaken by the sensation of amazing heat. His throat worked to take in her liquid and scalded him with its intensity. He began to let his eyes drift closed and the image of sunlight filled his memory. It was such a long time ago that he felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He expanded the image to include the beautiful water of the Atlantic Ocean and the crisp feeling of the bathing costume against his skin. He knew this could not be anything other than a dream. What was her blood doing to him?
He opened his eyes to find that she had pulled herself closer to his body. The breath she drew in was ragged and harsh. He smelled her body chemistry change with each draw from her neck. Although he could not see her face clearly, he could sense that she was not in pain, but rather immense pleasure.
All at once he could not stop his hunger from taking over. He closed his eyes and held her closer to him. He breathed in the scent that was driving him further. When he opened his eyes, he saw a glimpse of it again. The mark hid behind her jawline and was covered by a tendril of dark hair. It was at that point that he knew he was in trouble. She had the mark. It was not a play of light or his hunger. It was there and meant only for him.
Oh Hell…
Chpt 3
Her apartment was quiet. Shayna had finally given up waiting for this David character to call her back. She also knew that she had a limited shelf life in a building made of glass. Damn modern architects. She thought it was totally cool when she took the job. Her own office with LOTS of light and landscape. Who knew that she would have to worry about having a major allergy to the sunlight that streamed through her windows towards the end of her shift. She remembered that it was already the end of June and that the sun would be up way too soon. She forwarded her office extension to her cell phone (bless you oh great call-forward goddess) and packed up her laptop. Shayna felt sad that she might never again feel the sunlight fall on her face. As she shut and locked her office door, she gazed longingly at the glass for several minutes and then turned towards the main entrance.
Gently pressing the down arrow button for the elevator, a thought crossed her mind. If she was vampy now, then she didn’t really need to use that elevator for the eight floor descent. That was like the second major bonus for some of her faves. Aside from the whole super speed thing, she thought she might be able to levitate down or something like that. Maybe even fly…HOW COOL WAS THAT? But what if she was wrong? She would totally wreck her cherished laptop and boy would the tech group be pissed. It was bad enough that she had to practically stand on her head to get this one. She couldn’t even imagine what she would have to do to get it replaced. It was probably a better idea to wait to try all that cool stuff another time. Shayna hated to miss out on any new thing that came out. Skipping the chance to test out her new and improved body was just going to tick her off beyond belief. Shayna was not a very patient person. She made her grand entrance into the world a week early and surprised her mother during dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town. A word of advice, when your water breaks on a five hundred dollar Chivari chair, offer to have the silk cleaned within twenty-four hours.
She hated to wait in line for anything. She abhorred supermarkets, super sales or anything that involved lots of people being serviced before her. “I have to be practical” she sighed softly as the elevator slowly opened. She stepped in quickly and punched the button for the lobby. After removing her finger from the damaged panel, she added “relearn your own flipping strength” to her growing “to-do” list.
Shayna prayed that the elevator would deliver her to the lobby without protesting her small underestimation of physics. Without missing a beat, the elevator came to a proper stop at the ground floor, much to her relief. As the doors slid open, she nervously glanced around the lobby for Stan-the-night-guard. He was not Stan, but rather Stan-the-night-guard since that was how he introduced himself to everyone. “Hi, I’m Stan-the-night-guard”. She knew only that STING (her nickname for him) had a major thing for waitresses and was a bit of a flirt. He was harmless enough and always had a good joke for her. He would often check on her throughout the night to make sure things were kosher. He would tell her a story about his Uncle Morris every night. The plot line would be different every time. To date, STING’s Uncle Morris had bought the farm by being run over by a bread truck, poisoned by laced chopped liver, drowned by the melting ice of a fjord and countless other calamities. Shayna would often wonder what really did old Morris in and if there even was a Morris. It didn’t really matter though. Sting would keep her company when she was hitting that 3 AM lull. He was a kind man. She liked him. She also didn’t want to run into him tonight.
When she peeked around the corner for his security desk, she was relieved to find that Sting was nowhere in sight. She quickly dashed past the desk and was out into the open atrium in the blink of an eye. It was not a welcoming night. Muggy, stifling and filled with the false promise of rain. She went quickly and silently to her car.
The ride home was uneventful. She parked in the coveted spot that she had recently gained when Mrs. Lampur moved out upstairs. Maybe using the word “gained” was less appropriate than “confiscated”. It was near-ish to her door so instead of hiring a sherpa and several dog teams to get her safely to her apartment, she could actually see her building from her spot. Small things made Shayna happy.
Shayna crossed the small distance from her parking spot to her front door and fumbled with the keys. The odd thing was that it was only necessary for her to fumble, not DROP them like she normally did when arriving home at 4 AM. She vaguely remembered one of her books talking about super night-vision abilities for vamps.
Kewl…I can sneak around in my apartment in the dark and not trip on anything when I have to pee now. Bonus!
The key softly clicked as the lock disengaged and she quietly slipped into the shared hallway of the condo building. Old habits died hard in her experience since she no longer had her upstairs neighbor to annoy when arriving home. Mrs. Lampur never started a conversation with her without mentioning the exact time of her reentry on every night since she had spoken with her last. She swore that the woman slept in front of her door with a large drinking glass to hear every creak she made. Shayna just hoped that whoever bought the place would be less of a pain in the rear. Or at least not as vocal about it.
Opening her front door was kind of like opening the gate to hell. A girl on a budget could not afford to keep her alarmingly old air-conditioning unit on while she went to work. That meant that entering her apartment would make only a dragon happy. Considering that the entire week had not seen the temps dip below 90 and the humidity was as high as her credit card debt, it was pretty hot in the condo. She cut her way through the darkness to turn on the ancient machine so that it was at least bearable when she finally fell into bed.
She placed her “it just flew off the truck somehow” Kate Spade on the small table and put her keys into the fishbowl next to her purse. So she had a small weakness for killa handbags. Shayna was a woman with an Achilles heel. Her knees buckled at the sight of a shiny leather square where she could hide her crap. The coveted “purse party” was her den of iniquity. So freaking what? It wasn’t like she was mainlining H for her fix. One good purse could be a legacy passed down for generations. At least, this is what she told herself countless times when dipping into her ever-lacking bank account for a new “I-love-it-and-cannot-live-without-it” acquisition.
She slipped out the cell phone that she had just upgraded to and checked it yet again to make sure she didn’t miss his call. It was then that the inner lining of her stomach felt the need to crawl out of her body via her navel. At least, that is what she could best describe the pain that blindsided her as. She doubled over and found herself on the floor. That was when the acid started pumping through her veins. Maybe this whole undead thing was not as good as she originally thought. Was this that “hunger” thing that she had read about? Funny, but no one ever described as the flipping apocalypse. She was going through all of the possible ways for her to find a quick donor when the lights went out and she was gone. The sun had kind of snuck up on her when she wasn’t looking. Dawn broke and she was splayed out on her comfy flokati rug. Face down and with her arm still above her head. Man was she going to have one heck of a “dead arm” when she rose at sundown. Sucks to be Shayna.
Chptr 4
“Soooo, what are ya up to tonight?” asked Janine pertly into the phone. He liked Janine, mostly. David had worked under Janine in the council for many years. He also knew that she would stake him and leave him in broad daylight to fry if he turned his back on her for more than two seconds.
“Not much, J” David replied. “When is our next meeting?” he asked.
“Ummm, not sure but I have to text the Executor anyway so I will get back to youuuuuu. Byeeee!”
Click
Janine was different. She was a born vamp but then made a deal with a minor demon to rise to the level of Director. She was also a master of illusion. She could morph into the matyr in under 5 seconds flat when the Executor was around. All the council members knew it. Meetings were a lesson in ass-kissing 101. She was the mistress of all things suck-up. Janine could kiss Executor ass at 40 paces, blindfolded and nose-plugged (super vamp olfactory gifts and all).
Janine would also rat him out if she knew about what happened last night.
His position at the council was involuntary. He was elected, signed, sealed and delivered for a 400 year term in his post. For all intents and purposes, David was the equivalent of an informant. He was responsible for observing the many ailments that plagued the human race. Farmers hired scientists to study Mad Cow Disease in their herds to help avoid collateral damage. This was the vampire way of keeping their food sources safe from extinction. Immortals had no equivalent to the Twinkie. Their food had a definite shelf-life. He had already studied diabetes through his work Endocrine Association. He personally loved diabetics since they were like a hot fudge sundae in pants for him. But he knew that it was easy to get hooked. Some vamps developed such a “sweet tooth”, they stalked Endocrinologists offices like women at a Barney’s sale.
His reports to the Council and the general membership were essential in getting a hold on the growing “sugar-rush” additiction. Vampires with “sugar-rush” were like heroin addicts. They fed, got wired and then crashed big time. There was nothing worse than a cranky, strung out vampire. They were a major downer to be around. He had given the council the ammunition to combat the growing epidemic.
Janine took the credit.
His newest area of study provided an interesting challenge. Many vampires were finding that humans were lethargic and increasingly tasteless. A group of vamps even found coveted A-B neg donors to have a distinct lack of oomph to their blood. It was like sucking on a stale popsicle that had lost all of its flavor. Most of the donors were found to have strange sleep problems. This is why he started to seek out companies that performed sleep studies in which to spend time and make his own reports to the council. It was really stimulating to him. Of course, he never had any issues with sleep. Sun rises – vampire goes nite-nite. End of story.
David needed a plan. A good one. One that involved him NOT getting into major trouble with the council.
He had to think about it. He was a good thinker most of the time. Unfortunately, he obviously LOST HIS FLIPPING MIND last night and didn’t think at all.
Get it together Tomes…all is not lost. It could work out.
Or not…
He knew better than to turn someone with the mark. The mark was one of the first things that the council discussed when lecturing on mortals and their peculiar weaknesses where blood-letting was concerned. “The Mark” was different for each vampire. It could take the form of a mole, a beauty mark or even a freckle but it always was energy laden for the immortal viewing it. That mark signified the presence of a soulmate and there were rules about them. VERY big rules about them. Rules that, if broken, would put some very bad things in motion for the vampire in question.
And I doused the rulebook with lighter fluid and burned it to a crisp last night.
Shayna searched her desk for the piece of paper she knew had to be there. Sifting through pile after pile of paper, she cursed the fact that everyone but HER got a super scanner and now she was milling through TOWERS of paper to find that stupid thing. Giving up after 10 minutes, she turned to her keyboard.
Notes of interview after interview were reviewed quickly in the makeshift database she had created when she abandoned the paper mountain. At least she had her laptop. As she calmed down, she felt an odd sensation in her sinus cavity that spread down to her gums…it was kind of like a draining but less ucky. She felt her teeth shift upwards and then, she could close her mouth properly. Suddenly, she stopped.
The thought struck her at that very moment.
Those were my teeth…my flipping teeth. My teeth just shifted their way back into my gums.
Teeth normally don’t do that. Teeth stay exactly where nature (and a VERY good orthodontist) intended them to stay. The only teeth that shifted were those of unlucky boxers and…“Oh crap…how the hell did I become a vampire?” Shayna whined. She let her head bounce on the top of her faux cherry desktop and noticed the lack of pain when it struck. “This is not good…I am really REALLY in trouble here” she breathed.
Shayna Weston was the foremost expert on vampires. She had read 257 books in which vampires existed. Every time she found a writer she liked, she obsessively devoured their books until she could find no more. Women vampires, funny vampires, whiny vampires, sexy vampires and even a vampire pet or two. All of them had the same major thing…big teeth, liquid diet sans coffee and a permanent switch to night shift. She couldn’t be a vampire. She looked too good with a tan. She loved carbs too much. Life (or death) without a sourdough baguette was a life (or death) not worth living. But most of all, she had a real problem with the fact that she will have to see fluorescent t-shirts come back into style over and over. Gag me with a stake.
On the plus side, she looked wicked sexy in black. She could always spray on her glow too. She would never have to lose that extra 10 pounds…bonus! Killa legs with no more shaving. What the hell did she ever gain by being human anyway? Looking down at her newly smooth legs, she smiled. Even that one ugly scar she had on her left shin was gone.
The only thing that confused her was the whole turning thing. That took a lot of time if she remembered correctly. Days even. Considering her last interview was at 10 and it was only 3 now, it wasn’t possible. How could she have become a vampire that quick? Everything that Shayna had read about the process involved mondo amounts of pain, copious amounts of growling and at least one mega sex scene. She had none of that. Nada. Nyet. Zippo.
“Great…I can’t even get THAT right” Shayna lamented to her four office walls. “Wait till I get my hands on that freak! He has a big can of whoop ass waiting and I am shaking it up right now!!!”
It was then that she saw it. Just under her feet was the piece of linen finish stock she was looking for. It was the golden ticket to her downed memory bank. His resume. She bent over slowly, or so she thought, and was eating industrial carpet before she could catch herself. “Forgot about that super-speed thing…” she thought. Mental note, practice doing normal crap again.
She carefully picked up the piece of paper. It looked normal enough. Cover letter…salary request, more BS about him being the best for the job yadda blah etc… Name: David Tomes. She looked at the phone number for a moment and picked up the phone. “Are you flipping kidding me???” His ringback tone was the newest release from Vampire Weekend. And here she thought she was cutting edge. Another mental note: find out about that band and their not-so-tongue-in-cheek name.
When she heard the clickover of the voicemail message, she felt strange. Almost dreamy. His recorded voice was saying something, but she couldn’t quite make it out. Even stranger was the slight warmth that her birthmark started giving off.
She was startled by the tone. “Huh, uh, yeah….. Hi. This is Shayna Weston from Galatea Sleep Partners and I think I met with you earlier this evening. I think you better call me back PRETTY DAMN QUICK MISTER AND TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH ME!!! My number is 231-444-1212. I will be here…waiting. For you. TO. CALL. ME. BACK.”
Click
Shayna shook her head and gave a frustrated sigh. How the hell did this happen?
Chptr 2
He finally slowed down enough to see the blur of landscape beneath him. Looking down, he visualized the small guest house he was occupying in Westchester County and slowly drifted down to the walk. In this quiet, affluent neighborhood surrounded by lush foliage and private lives, David felt most safe. He was secure in the knowledge that it was a Desperate Housewives existence that mostly kept itself hidden from him. The less intrigue he was a part of, the better.
Except tonight.
He started out the night aiming for just another meal ticket. Easy peazy right? Go in, do the vamp specialty, have a nice dinner and leave her with a memory of a great after hours work session. Not this one though. He had scoped the whole thing out. They had lots of night positions available. He could get in without a problem since he was already a “night shifter”. It was his new way of getting a quick bite to eat when he got a job. He didn’t stay in one place very long. David had just discovered sleep disorders. Being in sleep medicine provided a perfect hiding place for him. No blood or excitement to raise his hunger, the job held perfect hours for him since it was overnight and it was at least interesting. His patients were safe from him and he from them. As a matter of fact, they loved him and he often got requests.
He entered the offices and filled out the paperwork like normal. It used to be enough to meet someone and exchange a gentlemanly handshake. Now it was all about the resume, and the application and the background paperwork and the drug screen. It was a wonder ANYONE got a job these days. If it got to that point, he would glamour the staff and get the report in himself.
Shayna had introduced herself and offered him coffee. He could smell the bright scent of caffeine wafting off of her like a top note of perfume. When he politely refused it, she said “let me get this straight, you are a night shifter who doesn’t drink coffee?” Through untrusting eyes, she examined him for a moment. “ok…Whatever!”. He noticed her oversized mug with the painted proverb COFFEE IS LIFE. He knew that he had just lowered his chance of the line of crap he was about to spout being believable to her. David had to work fast on this one.
Her first comment when she had reviewed his application was “catholic school huh? No man I have ever interviewed writes this neatly without being given the ruler treatment by an angry nun or five” She looked at him cautiously, again with the squinty eyes. What was it with this woman? How did she ever become a recruiter with this major attitude? Weren’t they supposed to be nice?
She spit question after question at him about his experience and job history. She gave him her signature stare when he replied that he had not done a lot of research on the company after Shayna asked him about his knowledge of their history. He was actually flustered.
Then he saw it.
The birthmark.
He stared at her for a minute and it wasn’t until she snapped her fingers in front of him that he looked at her face again.
Jesse Jackrabbits and Crackers (he couldn’t use use the NORMAL terms since any religious reference gave him an immediate migraine of monumental proportions); She had the mark.
He smiled and shook his head. He looked at her neck again and it was gone. Maybe just a play of light. Maybe he was just hungry.
David knew he had to do this thing quick. No nice stories, no seducing words. There was not a chance in hell that he was getting this job so just whomp her, chomp her and go. He fixed his eyes on her face and waited for her to make eye contact. When she did, he opened that part of his energy and fixed it on her pupils. When he saw them dilate, he said the words “Come to me” and she slowly rose and walked to him. He saw the way her jacket brushed her hips and followed the curve to her ass. It reminded him of Elizabeth. He hadn’t seen a backside like that since 1840. Shapely, unapologetic and ripe. When she stood in front of him, he tentatively placed his hands on her hips. What he found was beautifully yielding flesh. Why women today had to exercise themselves into bones barely covered by skin was beyond him. But that was not why he was here.
He guided her down to kneel before him as he slowly kept her eyes captured in his gaze. Feeling oddly energized, he felt his fangs lower and sharpen in anticipation of tasting her. He scanned her face for a moment. What he saw while she was open to him was shocking beauty. Her eyes had softened and she lost the downturn to her mouth. Her skin glowed with a vitality that came only from real sun exposure. Lucky girl, no melanoma fears in her mind. Taking it all in, he realized there was something comfortable about her face to him. It was as if he was wrapped in a warm feeling of contentment. How was that possible when only seconds before, she was like the inquisition with breasts? But still, there was a certain sense that he couldn’t identify when he saw her like this.
He knew he really needed a meal. He was acting like a huge ass and had to keep his focus. Slowly he brushed the hair away from her left cheek and gently repositioned her head to expose her neck to him. As he lowered his mouth to touch her skin, he felt an almost electrical charge the moment he made contact. Whoa Nellie…this was new. He felt the tension in her body heighten as he stroked her vein with his tongue to bring it to the surface. She started to make small noises in the back of her throat.
He stopped for a moment, a bit off balance since he was sure he hadn’t glamoured her in a sexual way. He just put the whomp on her to make her docile but her reaction was out of place. Maybe she was just different.
He turned his attention to her neck again and heard the same soft escape of breath when he teased the vein with his tongue. Ignoring the sound, he carefully closed his lips around the pulsing flow of her blood and broke the skin easily. His sharp incisors found their mark as he barely nicked the jugular. Wouldn’t want to kill her, just drink his fill and leave her to be tasted another day. What he was not prepared for was the charged zap of the coppery sweet fluid filling his mouth and his senses. David couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the taste of her. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He was immediately overtaken by the sensation of amazing heat. His throat worked to take in her liquid and scalded him with its intensity. He began to let his eyes drift closed and the image of sunlight filled his memory. It was such a long time ago that he felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He expanded the image to include the beautiful water of the Atlantic Ocean and the crisp feeling of the bathing costume against his skin. He knew this could not be anything other than a dream. What was her blood doing to him?
He opened his eyes to find that she had pulled herself closer to his body. The breath she drew in was ragged and harsh. He smelled her body chemistry change with each draw from her neck. Although he could not see her face clearly, he could sense that she was not in pain, but rather immense pleasure.
All at once he could not stop his hunger from taking over. He closed his eyes and held her closer to him. He breathed in the scent that was driving him further. When he opened his eyes, he saw a glimpse of it again. The mark hid behind her jawline and was covered by a tendril of dark hair. It was at that point that he knew he was in trouble. She had the mark. It was not a play of light or his hunger. It was there and meant only for him.
Oh Hell…
Chpt 3
Her apartment was quiet. Shayna had finally given up waiting for this David character to call her back. She also knew that she had a limited shelf life in a building made of glass. Damn modern architects. She thought it was totally cool when she took the job. Her own office with LOTS of light and landscape. Who knew that she would have to worry about having a major allergy to the sunlight that streamed through her windows towards the end of her shift. She remembered that it was already the end of June and that the sun would be up way too soon. She forwarded her office extension to her cell phone (bless you oh great call-forward goddess) and packed up her laptop. Shayna felt sad that she might never again feel the sunlight fall on her face. As she shut and locked her office door, she gazed longingly at the glass for several minutes and then turned towards the main entrance.
Gently pressing the down arrow button for the elevator, a thought crossed her mind. If she was vampy now, then she didn’t really need to use that elevator for the eight floor descent. That was like the second major bonus for some of her faves. Aside from the whole super speed thing, she thought she might be able to levitate down or something like that. Maybe even fly…HOW COOL WAS THAT? But what if she was wrong? She would totally wreck her cherished laptop and boy would the tech group be pissed. It was bad enough that she had to practically stand on her head to get this one. She couldn’t even imagine what she would have to do to get it replaced. It was probably a better idea to wait to try all that cool stuff another time. Shayna hated to miss out on any new thing that came out. Skipping the chance to test out her new and improved body was just going to tick her off beyond belief. Shayna was not a very patient person. She made her grand entrance into the world a week early and surprised her mother during dinner at the most expensive restaurant in town. A word of advice, when your water breaks on a five hundred dollar Chivari chair, offer to have the silk cleaned within twenty-four hours.
She hated to wait in line for anything. She abhorred supermarkets, super sales or anything that involved lots of people being serviced before her. “I have to be practical” she sighed softly as the elevator slowly opened. She stepped in quickly and punched the button for the lobby. After removing her finger from the damaged panel, she added “relearn your own flipping strength” to her growing “to-do” list.
Shayna prayed that the elevator would deliver her to the lobby without protesting her small underestimation of physics. Without missing a beat, the elevator came to a proper stop at the ground floor, much to her relief. As the doors slid open, she nervously glanced around the lobby for Stan-the-night-guard. He was not Stan, but rather Stan-the-night-guard since that was how he introduced himself to everyone. “Hi, I’m Stan-the-night-guard”. She knew only that STING (her nickname for him) had a major thing for waitresses and was a bit of a flirt. He was harmless enough and always had a good joke for her. He would often check on her throughout the night to make sure things were kosher. He would tell her a story about his Uncle Morris every night. The plot line would be different every time. To date, STING’s Uncle Morris had bought the farm by being run over by a bread truck, poisoned by laced chopped liver, drowned by the melting ice of a fjord and countless other calamities. Shayna would often wonder what really did old Morris in and if there even was a Morris. It didn’t really matter though. Sting would keep her company when she was hitting that 3 AM lull. He was a kind man. She liked him. She also didn’t want to run into him tonight.
When she peeked around the corner for his security desk, she was relieved to find that Sting was nowhere in sight. She quickly dashed past the desk and was out into the open atrium in the blink of an eye. It was not a welcoming night. Muggy, stifling and filled with the false promise of rain. She went quickly and silently to her car.
The ride home was uneventful. She parked in the coveted spot that she had recently gained when Mrs. Lampur moved out upstairs. Maybe using the word “gained” was less appropriate than “confiscated”. It was near-ish to her door so instead of hiring a sherpa and several dog teams to get her safely to her apartment, she could actually see her building from her spot. Small things made Shayna happy.
Shayna crossed the small distance from her parking spot to her front door and fumbled with the keys. The odd thing was that it was only necessary for her to fumble, not DROP them like she normally did when arriving home at 4 AM. She vaguely remembered one of her books talking about super night-vision abilities for vamps.
Kewl…I can sneak around in my apartment in the dark and not trip on anything when I have to pee now. Bonus!
The key softly clicked as the lock disengaged and she quietly slipped into the shared hallway of the condo building. Old habits died hard in her experience since she no longer had her upstairs neighbor to annoy when arriving home. Mrs. Lampur never started a conversation with her without mentioning the exact time of her reentry on every night since she had spoken with her last. She swore that the woman slept in front of her door with a large drinking glass to hear every creak she made. Shayna just hoped that whoever bought the place would be less of a pain in the rear. Or at least not as vocal about it.
Opening her front door was kind of like opening the gate to hell. A girl on a budget could not afford to keep her alarmingly old air-conditioning unit on while she went to work. That meant that entering her apartment would make only a dragon happy. Considering that the entire week had not seen the temps dip below 90 and the humidity was as high as her credit card debt, it was pretty hot in the condo. She cut her way through the darkness to turn on the ancient machine so that it was at least bearable when she finally fell into bed.
She placed her “it just flew off the truck somehow” Kate Spade on the small table and put her keys into the fishbowl next to her purse. So she had a small weakness for killa handbags. Shayna was a woman with an Achilles heel. Her knees buckled at the sight of a shiny leather square where she could hide her crap. The coveted “purse party” was her den of iniquity. So freaking what? It wasn’t like she was mainlining H for her fix. One good purse could be a legacy passed down for generations. At least, this is what she told herself countless times when dipping into her ever-lacking bank account for a new “I-love-it-and-cannot-live-without-it” acquisition.
She slipped out the cell phone that she had just upgraded to and checked it yet again to make sure she didn’t miss his call. It was then that the inner lining of her stomach felt the need to crawl out of her body via her navel. At least, that is what she could best describe the pain that blindsided her as. She doubled over and found herself on the floor. That was when the acid started pumping through her veins. Maybe this whole undead thing was not as good as she originally thought. Was this that “hunger” thing that she had read about? Funny, but no one ever described as the flipping apocalypse. She was going through all of the possible ways for her to find a quick donor when the lights went out and she was gone. The sun had kind of snuck up on her when she wasn’t looking. Dawn broke and she was splayed out on her comfy flokati rug. Face down and with her arm still above her head. Man was she going to have one heck of a “dead arm” when she rose at sundown. Sucks to be Shayna.
Chptr 4
“Soooo, what are ya up to tonight?” asked Janine pertly into the phone. He liked Janine, mostly. David had worked under Janine in the council for many years. He also knew that she would stake him and leave him in broad daylight to fry if he turned his back on her for more than two seconds.
“Not much, J” David replied. “When is our next meeting?” he asked.
“Ummm, not sure but I have to text the Executor anyway so I will get back to youuuuuu. Byeeee!”
Click
Janine was different. She was a born vamp but then made a deal with a minor demon to rise to the level of Director. She was also a master of illusion. She could morph into the matyr in under 5 seconds flat when the Executor was around. All the council members knew it. Meetings were a lesson in ass-kissing 101. She was the mistress of all things suck-up. Janine could kiss Executor ass at 40 paces, blindfolded and nose-plugged (super vamp olfactory gifts and all).
Janine would also rat him out if she knew about what happened last night.
His position at the council was involuntary. He was elected, signed, sealed and delivered for a 400 year term in his post. For all intents and purposes, David was the equivalent of an informant. He was responsible for observing the many ailments that plagued the human race. Farmers hired scientists to study Mad Cow Disease in their herds to help avoid collateral damage. This was the vampire way of keeping their food sources safe from extinction. Immortals had no equivalent to the Twinkie. Their food had a definite shelf-life. He had already studied diabetes through his work Endocrine Association. He personally loved diabetics since they were like a hot fudge sundae in pants for him. But he knew that it was easy to get hooked. Some vamps developed such a “sweet tooth”, they stalked Endocrinologists offices like women at a Barney’s sale.
His reports to the Council and the general membership were essential in getting a hold on the growing “sugar-rush” additiction. Vampires with “sugar-rush” were like heroin addicts. They fed, got wired and then crashed big time. There was nothing worse than a cranky, strung out vampire. They were a major downer to be around. He had given the council the ammunition to combat the growing epidemic.
Janine took the credit.
His newest area of study provided an interesting challenge. Many vampires were finding that humans were lethargic and increasingly tasteless. A group of vamps even found coveted A-B neg donors to have a distinct lack of oomph to their blood. It was like sucking on a stale popsicle that had lost all of its flavor. Most of the donors were found to have strange sleep problems. This is why he started to seek out companies that performed sleep studies in which to spend time and make his own reports to the council. It was really stimulating to him. Of course, he never had any issues with sleep. Sun rises – vampire goes nite-nite. End of story.
David needed a plan. A good one. One that involved him NOT getting into major trouble with the council.
He had to think about it. He was a good thinker most of the time. Unfortunately, he obviously LOST HIS FLIPPING MIND last night and didn’t think at all.
Get it together Tomes…all is not lost. It could work out.
Or not…
He knew better than to turn someone with the mark. The mark was one of the first things that the council discussed when lecturing on mortals and their peculiar weaknesses where blood-letting was concerned. “The Mark” was different for each vampire. It could take the form of a mole, a beauty mark or even a freckle but it always was energy laden for the immortal viewing it. That mark signified the presence of a soulmate and there were rules about them. VERY big rules about them. Rules that, if broken, would put some very bad things in motion for the vampire in question.
And I doused the rulebook with lighter fluid and burned it to a crisp last night.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Non-linear Day...
Lesson Learned…
Did you ever have one of those days where you feel so uninspired that you just want to stay in bed? Obviously, from my rhetorical line of questioning, it is exactly that kind of day for me. I planted my seeds in my planters, I put new mini shades on the chandelier, I cleaned the bunny pen, I dusted the bedroom. Not a single inspired thought came into my head.
Yesterday was quite different. I had a flow of ideas that were fantastic. Where did I have them? While I was in the car, alone, driving. Terrific! Did I have a digital recorder to at least get the ideas saved? NO. How frustrating to have the answer to my secondary storyline and to lose it because I am driving. Lesson learned- ALWAYS HAVE A WAY TO RECORD AN IDEA!!!
Please Oprah…
I applied to the Oprah show yesterday. It is for superfans of the Twilight series. That would be me. I type this while I am listening to the audio of Twilight that is playing on my iTunes player right now. Bella is being tormented by James. It is my daily fix. It usually does the trick when I am having a bad time. Even that is not inspiring me today…*sigh*
Yes, I DO realize that I am a fully grown woman of nearly 40. Yes I AM a pretty normal person. No, I DON’T want to marry Robert Pattinson (although I would like to follow his career. He seems to be developing into a gifted actor.) I am not a stalker, nor am I creepy. Ok, perhaps a little creepy but that has nothing to do with my Twilight addiction. I WILL be in line at 11:59 on June 29th waiting to see Eclipse with some of my other TwiHards. Can’t even say I am a “Twilight Mom” since I am guessing they have human children instead of rabbits. Oh well, we all have our guilty pleasures don’t we?
Writing Style…
Do I lead the reader too much? I often question this so I need feedback…
Did you ever have one of those days where you feel so uninspired that you just want to stay in bed? Obviously, from my rhetorical line of questioning, it is exactly that kind of day for me. I planted my seeds in my planters, I put new mini shades on the chandelier, I cleaned the bunny pen, I dusted the bedroom. Not a single inspired thought came into my head.
Yesterday was quite different. I had a flow of ideas that were fantastic. Where did I have them? While I was in the car, alone, driving. Terrific! Did I have a digital recorder to at least get the ideas saved? NO. How frustrating to have the answer to my secondary storyline and to lose it because I am driving. Lesson learned- ALWAYS HAVE A WAY TO RECORD AN IDEA!!!
Please Oprah…
I applied to the Oprah show yesterday. It is for superfans of the Twilight series. That would be me. I type this while I am listening to the audio of Twilight that is playing on my iTunes player right now. Bella is being tormented by James. It is my daily fix. It usually does the trick when I am having a bad time. Even that is not inspiring me today…*sigh*
Yes, I DO realize that I am a fully grown woman of nearly 40. Yes I AM a pretty normal person. No, I DON’T want to marry Robert Pattinson (although I would like to follow his career. He seems to be developing into a gifted actor.) I am not a stalker, nor am I creepy. Ok, perhaps a little creepy but that has nothing to do with my Twilight addiction. I WILL be in line at 11:59 on June 29th waiting to see Eclipse with some of my other TwiHards. Can’t even say I am a “Twilight Mom” since I am guessing they have human children instead of rabbits. Oh well, we all have our guilty pleasures don’t we?
Writing Style…
Do I lead the reader too much? I often question this so I need feedback…
As I drove the ten minutes to town center and carefully parallel parked, I mentally ran down today’s “to do” list in my head. Thankfully, I wasn’t late so my meeting could actually be productive. After congratulating myself for not pulverizing any other motorists while attempting to park, I grabbed my home-brewed Earl Grey latte and separated my keys to find the one fitting the door to the gallery. The gallery facade was all angular cuts of window pane. It was actually designed by a local stained glass artisan who used different types of clear glass with large slices of Murano glass cane mixed in. I stood for a moment, marveling at the fact that glaziers had the coolest jobs ever. The window itself was worth a mint and the insurance on it alone was staggering. Not having to pay the premiums myself allowed me to have a great appreciation for its beauty.
As I opened the door, I started the complicated ballet of balancing the cup, my purse, my laptop case and my lunch in one hand while tapping in the code to the security alarm. Some mornings, I felt like I would need to be an octopus to even enter the gallery. The last thing I needed was to have to explain to the alarm company and the police that I didn’t get to the keypad in time because I didn’t want to spill my latte. That wouldn’t really fly all that well.
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