Sunday, May 1, 2016

Darkness Within Ezine Vol.11

Hi all!
Here's this month's edition of Darkness Within!!


President & CEO

Vice-President and Cover Artist


Theater of Tears by Thom Futrell
Lore’s Corner: The Bogeyman by LM David
Dear Hattie by Helen Bishop
The Hybrids-Greg’s Birthday Party by Brien O’Raighne
The She-wolf of Lake Wildwood: Part 10 by Ronald Edward Griffin
Pure by MJ Boshers
Bram Stoker by The Vampire Queen1
The Worm Farm  (15 & 16) by Helen Bishop
Detective Goodson: Rand’s Story: The Blood Lords 6th part 2 by Brien O’Raighne

2016 All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction of this ezine in part or in whole.

The Sacramento Theater company was founded in 1942. The company now has two theaters in its complex and has over 300 performances a season.
The most well-known ghost that is said to be haunting the various stages of the Sacramento Theater Company has been nicknamed Pinky. In our research, we uncovered reports of as few as five and as many as six other ghosts inhabiting the theater. There are a few consistent details about the ghosts from the multiple reports. Pinky is a prankster ghost that is most often identified as female. Pinky sometimes manifests as a pink orb. She is often seen in the costume shop.
According to accounts, three clairvoyants visited the site in 1991 and uncovered five more ghosts, although the reports that discuss the clairvoyant's visit only mention two specific additional spirits. One is a tall thin man who sports a moustache and an ascot. One account calls him Jim and another states that he is the ghost of a former volunteer. The other ghost is that of a woman sometimes described as a Hungarian woman, sometimes as a Polish woman named Madame Modjeska. She is described as sad and as a struggling actress who never succeeded.
I've never been to the Sacramento Theater, but I have been to a haunted one here in town. The feelings of nostalgia, of sadness is nearly indescribable. Seems like the stars of the past just can't seem to stop being a part of the theater.
So what is it that causes the dead to walk the halls of an entertainment venue? If I was to harbor a guess, I would say it was dedication. I mean, people work so hard for so long to get into the theater, and then something happens and that life is cut short. It just isn't fair. So the spirit stays behind to live out what the body wanted to so badly. Or it could be a stage hand, killed in the line of duty, the spirit making sure that the show will go on. Sometimes it's a fan, who just can't get enough of the theater. Who knows? When the curtain rises and the lights fill the room, you might find yourself sitting next to a transparent fan, waiting for the next encore...

Author Bio:

Thom Futrell is a horror writer living in Jackson Michigan. He has been in more than sixty publications and has four films under his belt. He writes under the name T.G. Reaper.

The Bogeyman

The Bogeyman (also spelled boogieman, boogeyman, or boogie man) is a common allusion to a mythical creature in many cultures used by adults to frighten children into good behavior.

As a child, the word was used every time I had to go to the basement for something. Dark places became horror pits. Parent. Do they have a sense of humor or what?

The Bogey man monster has no specific appearance, and conceptions about it can vary drastically from household to household within the same community. In many cases, he has no set appearance in the mind of an adult or child, but is simply a non-specific embodiment of terror. Parents may tell their children that if they misbehave, the bogeyman will get them. Bogeymen may target a specific mischief—for instance, a bogeyman that punishes children who suck their thumbs—or general misbehavior, depending on what purpose needs serving. In some cases, the bogeyman is a nickname for the devil. Bogeyman tales vary by region. The bogeyman is usually a masculine entity but can be any gender or simply androgynous.

The word “bogey” is believed to be derived from the Middle English bogge/bugge (hobgoblin) and is generally thought to be a cognate of the German bögge, böggel-mann (English "Bogeyman").The word could also be linked to many similar words in other European languages: bogle (Scots), boeman (Dutch), Butzemann (German), busemann (Norwegian), bøhmand / bussemand (Danish), bòcan, púca, pooka or pookha (Irish), pwca, bwga or bwgan (Welsh), puki (Old Norse), pixie or piskie (Cornish), puck (English), mumus (Hungarian), bogu (Slavonic), buka (Russian, бука), bauk (Serbian), bubulis (Latvian), baubas (Lithuanian), bobo (Polish), bebok (Silesian), papão (Portuguese), торбалан (Bulgarian), Μπαμπούλας (Greek), bua (Georgian, ბუა), babau (Italian), baubau(Romanian) papu (Catalan).

This guy has a “rep” no matter what country he’s in.

The word bugbear, from bug + bear, suggests that the bogey eating small children takes on the appearance of a bear. The word bugaboo probably arose as an alteration of bugbear.

In Southeast Asia, the term “bogie” is popularly supposed to refer to Bugis or Buganese pirates, ruthless seafarers of southern Sulawesi, Indonesia's third-largest island. These pirates often plagued early English and Dutch trading ships of the British East India Company and Dutch East India Company. It is popularly believed that this resulted in the European sailors' bringing their fear of the "bugi men" back to their home countries. However, etymologists disagree with this, because words relating to bogeyman were in common use centuries before European colonization of Southeast Asia and it is therefore unlikely that the Bugis would have been commonly known to westerners during that time.

In other cultures, Bogeyman-like beings are almost universal, common to the folklore of many countries. And in many countries, a bogeyman variant is portrayed as a man with a sack on his back who carries naughty children away. This is true for many Latin countries, such as Brazil, Portugal, Spain, and the countries of Spanish America, where it referred to as el "Hombre del costal", el "hombre del saco", or in Portuguese, o "homem do saco" (all of which mean "the sack/bag man"), or el roba-chicos, meaning child-stealer. Similar legends are also very common in Eastern Europe, as well as Haiti and some countries in Asia.

In Spain, parents will sing lullabies or tell rhymes to children, warning them that if they do not sleep, El Coco (the bogeyman) will come and get them. The rhyme originated in the 17th century has evolved over the years, but still retains its original meaning. Coconuts (Spanish: coco) received that name because their brownish hairy surface reminded Portuguese explorers of coco, a ghost with a pumpkin head. Latin America also has El Coco, although its folklore is usually quite different, commonly mixed with native beliefs, and, because of cultural contacts, sometimes more related to the bogeyman of the United States. Among Mexican-Americans, El Cucuy is portrayed as an evil monster that hides under children's bed at night and kidnaps or eats the child that does not obey his/her parents or go to sleep when it is time to do so. However, the Spanish American bogeyman does not resemble the shapeless or hairy monster of Spain: social sciences professor Manuel Medrano says popular legend describes El cucuy as a small humanoid with glowing red eyes that hides in closets or under the bed.

And parents wonder why their children grow up scared of the dark, checking closets and just maladjusted in general.


Author Bio:

LM David has been writing stories since Jr. High School after taking a Creative Writing class. Initially drawn to the genre of Science Fiction, a fascination with Paranormal/Urban Fantasy/Romance drew her back into the dark erotic world of vampires. The more she read about the subject of the ‘undead’, the deeper dark erotic world of folklore and legends of the vampire became. You can reach her at:
Twitter: @LMDavid54

Dear Hattie

by Helen Bishop:
Dear Hattie:
When is cannibalism ok?
Hungry in PA

Dear Hungry,
Cannibalism is only okay if you're a rugby player crashed in the Andes or you're exceptionally hungry and too busy to get dressed to go shopping.

Dear Hattie:
If your brother is really annoying, is it ok to "turn him"?
Annoyed in Arizona

Dear Annoyed,
If you're talking vampire or zombie, it's okay to turn your annoying brother, as long as you realize that neither will make him less annoying, and may make him worse.

Dear Hattie:
When the Zombie Apocalypse starts, will my debit card still work?
Afraid in Atlanta

Dear Afraid,
Your debit card will still work for a while, but I don't recommend standing still long enough to use it at an ATM. The first purchase should be a sledgehammer or a flame-thrower for when it doesn't work anymore.

Dear Hattie:
When you are dead, do the living haunt you?
Haunted in Hudson

Dear Haunted,
When you are dead, the only living that will haunt you are the bugs and worms, the ones looking for body parts and of course, the IRS, because Federal debt is forever.

Dear Hattie:
I hear that laying black plastic over weedy vegetation will kill it off and help it to dissolve, effectively getting rid of it as well as feeding your plants.
Battered in Las Vegas
Dear Battered,
I suggest you dig a shallow trench next to your husband and rolling him in, and covering him with cut open black trash bags.
Go in the house, put a hat and his coat on, and yell out for 'him' not to forget the lime, and send 'him' to the store.
Park at the train station, leave his coat in the trash and walk back.
Your neighborhood either didn't know about the abuse or knew and didn't care. Keep re-covering the trench with trash bags or poop for landscape cloth. Eventually, your problem will actually do something good, namely feed the plants.
Dear Hattie:
I’m a vampire but I’m unable to get the basic things I need. Please help.
Shy Guy in Savannah
Dear Shy Guy,
You could go the safe way and hire home health care or a housekeeper, but those people are notoriously full of blood, and tend to get expensive what with the need to replace them. Or, you could get an apartment over a store so you could slip downstairs to get your groceries. Also, many things can be ordered off the internet these days, and you can tell your local delivery service that you aren't available for delivery until after dark. Just be sure not to avail yourself of the delivery person, that can only lead to bad things.

Author Bio:
Helen Bishop is a native of Pennsylvania and a true fan of the written word. She works as a litigation paralegal; reads on average 20 books a week; writes book reviews for an internet blog; writes stories, poems and novels in various genres; and-just to fill out her dance card-contracts with fellow authors to proofread and copy-edit their work before it goes to the publisher. You can check her out at

The Hybrids:
by Brien O’Raighne

Greg’s Birthday party

Belle walks through the house. She takes a deep breath. Destiny turns to the teen. “Belle, honey.”
Belle stops in her tracks. “Yeah, Mom.”
“Go get your brother.” Destiny says. “Everyone should be here soon.”
“Okay, Mom.” Belle says. She runs upstairs. She stops at the first door past the loft. She enters the room.
In the room are eleven-year-old boys. A young black boy and a sandy blonde boy. Both are playing Disney Infinity on the PS6. They don’t even hear her enter the room.
“Hey, squirt.” She says. No response. Belle shakes her head. She walks over to the wall and pulls the plug.
Greg turns her direction. “Hey! You didn’t have to do that!”
“I couldn’t get your attention any other way.” Belle says as she crosses her arms. “Besides, squirt, mom wants you downstairs. The rest of the family should be here soon.”
“Your family big?” JaJuan asks Gregory.
“A smidgeon.” Greg says. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Both JaJuan and Greg rush past Belle and down the stairs. Belle follows them. She hears the reaction of her brother as he sees the Star Wars decorations.
“Oh, wow! Awesome, Mom!” Greg says.
Belle smiles as she walks down the stairs. She hears her mom respond. “Glad you like it dear.”
The doorbell rings. Belle turns towards the door. “I got it, mom!”
“Thanks, honey!” She hears her mom say.
Belle opens the door. There standing before her are Erin, Michel, Jean-Luc, and Eloisa. Belle jumps into the arms of Jean-Luc. “You’re here!”
Jean-Luc and Belle go out onto the porch. Erin looks cross at the two teens. “You could let us enter first, you know.”
Belle blushes. “Oh, sorry, Mrs. LeBouf.”
Michel chuckles. “Ah, young love.” He turns towards Erin. “You should’ve seen Louis when he was Jean-Luc’s age. He spent so much time with his girlfriend back then. Too bad some damn vampires killed him.”
Michel, Erin, and Eloisa walk into the house. Erin is shaking her head.
Jean-Luc and Belle walk over to the porch swing. “Belle, mon chere, I missed you.”
Belle chuckles. “I missed you to, Jean-Luc. We saw each other last night.”
“I know.” He responds. “But every moment away from you is such agony.”
“Ugh.” They hear as Ethan enters the porch. “Mom back?”
“Yeah, she’s out back setting up the party games for Greg’s party.” Belle tells Ethan.
“Thanks, Belle.”
“Your brother knows how to interrupt.” Jean-Luc says.
“I know. But he lives here.” Belle shrugs her shoulders. “Not much I can do. Mom Elise and He moved in after they lost Uncle Matt.”
“I heard about him and your father. Sorry that your father had to do that.” Jean-Luc says.
“It’s a bit of a touchy subject. Olivia lost her mom at the same time.” Belle tears up. “It’s hard even thinking about it, Jean-Luc. Can we change the subject?”
A red Suburban pulls up. Belle turns she sees her other brother get out of the suburban. She hears him scream. “Ooh, the lovey doveys.” Then, he makes smooching sounds.
“Cut it out, Meka.” Belle hears coming from the front passenger’s side of the suburban. Belle shakes her head.
“My other mother and siblings.” Belle says. “Sometimes I hate Mekamber.”
Priti shows up following her twin. She cringes. “Sorry, B. He’s like this all the time.”
“Yeah, I know. Every time he sees us, he does this, P.”
“Your mom inside?” Priti asks.
“Yeah, everyone else is either inside or out back. I think Elise is cooking on the grill.”
Belle sees Christina walking towards her. “Mom!”
“Baby girl, how you doing?”
“Alright.” Belle says. “Gets harder every year without Daddy.”
Christina hugs Belle. She runs her fingers through Belle’s golden locks. “Baby, I’m sure that Ethan and Olivia know how you feel. But you’ll get through it.”
A small boy rushes between Christina and Belle. He squeezes between and, then, shoots into the house. Christina breaks the hug. She pats Belle’s shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Then, she hears Christina yelling as she enters the house. “Sanjay, young man you get back here now!”
Belle giggles. She walks back over to Jean-Luc and sits down. She chuckles a bit more as she shakes her head. Sevfar stops on the porch as he spots the two teens. “Hope you’re treating her right, young man.”
He winks at Belle. She winks back. Jean-Luc’s mouth is agape. “Tha – tha – that’s…”
“My other dad, well, Christina is my dad genetically, but I refer to Sevfar as my father.” Belle says.
“I was gonna say the Thunders’ GM.”
Belle rolls her eyes. Then, she sighs. “Really? Sports? When you’re with me? Come on, Jean-Luc. And yes, he is the Thunders’ GM, so what?”
Another, uninvited person, appears in the driveway. Both Belle and Jean-Luc turn their heads towards the driveway as they sense the stranger. Belle and Jean-Luc rise to their feet. Belle feels anger and her fiery powers emerge.
The stranger jumps over the vehicles and lands in the front yard. HE is huffing and puffing. “Bring me the grimoire!”
Jean-Luc raises a brow and cooks his head. “Have no idea what you are talking about.”
The stranger, wearing a black cloak, removes a wand from the inner pocket of the cloak. He points it at Belle. “Alakazam!”
Jean-Luc hears this. He rushes over to Belle. He dives and knocks her out of the way as the blast hits his legs. His legs slam into the wall of the garage by the porch. Blood drips from the damage on his legs.
“Aaaaaah!” He screams.
Belle releases her fiery power and it slams into the stranger. He reels backwards. He wipes the blood from his mouth. “Say goodbye, little girl.”
He aims his wand at Belle. As he waves his wand as spell is cast from behind Belle. “Duratus!”
The stranger cannot finish his motion as he stops moving. He freezes in place. He looks at the person who emerges from the house, a person he tried to make his own years ago. A curly brunette witch named Elise Matthews.
She turns to Belle. “Take Jean-Luc inside. Your Aunt Sandy can help him.”
“Thanks, Elise.”
“Hello, Xanathos.”

Author Bio:
He is a connoisseur of sci-fi and paranormal films and books. He, also, lives in Houston with his son.

The She Wolf of Lake Wildwood
part 10

Tabitha continues running through the woods not sure where to go now that the police are after her. She doesn’t have family anymore so there’s no one to hide with. Thoughts run through her head as she tries to figure out what is happening. I couldn’t have killed that detective could I? Why do I keep having these nightmares and then bad things always happen after having them? The deputies are still within earshot in pursuit and she tries to remain as quiet as she can. I have no idea where my roommates are if they are even alive and I don’t have any friends. I have nowhere to go. Her thoughts turn to Kurt and how nice he has been to her even at the expense of alienating his wife. Maybe I can convince Kurt to help me. After all I don’t have anything to lose anymore.
            Tabitha sees a fence nearby and peeks over it to see if anyone may be home. She doesn’t see anyone around and looks back for the deputies. Once satisfied no one can see her she climbs the fence and hurries to the back door. She tugs on the sliding glass door to see if it’s locked and it opens with ease. Quietly she enters closing the door behind her. She searches through the house looking for a room with a window that has a view of the woods that the deputies are searching for her. Once she has found a room she watches out of it careful not to be seen and waits for the best time to head back to Kurt’s’ house.

At Kurt’s house
Kurt sits in his favorite chair watching television changing the channel every time a news update would come on about the manhunt for Tabitha Greer. He still finds it difficult to believe that such a young pretty girl would be capable of such brutal acts. He looks at the clock on the mantle and sees that it’s almost time for Diane to be home and is eagerly anticipating her return.
Then he notices something from the corner of his eye. A brief reflection of someone in a glass mirror over the fireplace alerts him that someone is in the back yard. Kurt stands up and walks to the sliding glass door that leads to the patio in the back yard. He peers through the glass trying to see if someone is out there. When he doesn’t see anyone he opens the sliding glass door and slowly walks out.
“Is anyone out there?” he calls out.
He hears the sound of something breaking in the shed and looks over to see the door cracked slightly. Kurt reaches back into the house just inside the glass door and grabs the baseball bat that they leave there just in case for protection.
“Alright I know someone is in there, now come out.” He slowly opens the door to the shed all of the way and when he looks inside he sees a very scared Tabitha sitting in the corner with her knees pulled to her chest.
“What are you doing here don’t you know that the sheriff department is looking for you? They think you killed those people. Did you do it?”
“No I didn’t.” she said even though she’s unsure whether she did or not.
Kurt has a look of conflict on his face and remembers that Diane would be home any moment.
“You know you have the worst timing on showing up at my home. My wife will be here any moment and you shouldn’t be here.”
“Please I don’t know where else to go. I don’t have anyone to help me. Look at me I can’t do those things to those people. Only an animal could do such things.” She pleads
“They say you must have a dog or some kind of pet that could do that.”
“I don’t though you have seen me outside a bit and have you ever seen me with an animal?” she asks.
Kurt lowers the baseball bat and considers what she is telling him.
“Even if I could help you know my wife wouldn’t be very happy about it.”
“Isn’t there anything that you can do?”
“No there isn’t anything he can do for you.” Diane says.
Kurt turns around and sees his wife standing there with her arms crossed and patting her foot on the ground.
“Hi honey welcome home.” Kurt says.
“Hey honey could you step away from the shed please?” Diane asks.
            Kurt remains quiet and steps out of her line of sight. Diane glares at Tabitha with malice in her eyes. Tabitha slowly stands with her back pressed against the wall of the shed with her fists clenched tightly.
            “Admit it you want my husband. Ever since you moved next door you make excuses to be around here.” Diane says.
            “No it isn’t like that at all.”
            “It’s really convenient that you’re on the run from the police and the one place you try to come to for help is my home. You come to seek help from MY HUSBAND!”
            “I need help whether it’s you or your husband. I’m not capable of killing anyone.” Tabitha says.
            “Of course you’re not capable of killing anyone; you’re weak and pathetic.” Diane says.
            Kurt’s’ eyes open wide as he watches hairs grow all over his wife’s’ arms.
            “Honey what’s wrong with your arms?”
            Tabitha stares as well and notices that hair is growing all over Diane’s’ face as well.
            “Nothing is wrong I am about to finally take care of a small problem. I was able to keep my other side to me hidden for all these years from you Kurt. Once she started prancing around though I couldn’t control myself. I had to make sure she wouldn’t be able to get her hands on you. So I framed her by killing everyone around her to make it look like she did it.”
            Her fingers grow longer and nails are replaced with sharp talons. Her face elongates growing a snout with canine fangs. Her ears become pointed and hair covers her entire body. Kurt stares at her in surprise at this new revelation. Diane’s’ speak is replaced with low growls towards Tabitha and when she looks at Kurt she lets out a soft whimper. Tabitha stands paralyzed with fear staring at the werewolf before she calls out to Kurt.
            “Please Kurt save me. Don’t let her kill me.” She pleads.
            Kurt looks at the beastly form that was once his wife and then back to Tabitha.
            “I am truly sorry Tabitha but I made my vows the day I married my wife and I am a man of my word. No matter what she has become she is my wife and I love her dearly.” He turns facing the opposite direction so he cannot see Tabitha anymore. “Go ahead and do what you must Diane. Let me know if you need anything.” He says while walking away towards the house.
            Gums peel back to reveal the razor sharp fangs in Diane’s’ mouth as she growls. With great haste she enters the shed and rips out Tabitha’s’ throat. She lets out a loud howl before she runs from the back yard and into the woods howling as she runs, making sure that all in the area could hear the blood curdling howl.

An hour later
            The Sheriff knocks’ on the front door and awaits an answer. Diane answers the door wearing a pair of jeans and a Van Halen T-shirt. He couldn’t resist looking down her curves and this makes Kurt who is standing at the kitchen counter a little bit jealous but also proud because she is his wife.
            “I hear that you found the body of Tabitha Greer?” The deputy asks.
            “Yes sir my husband and I heard a loud howling sound behind the house and running into the woods. We went out to investigate and saw blood on the patio leading to the shed and that’s where we found her.”
            “The coroner should be here soon. Until they get here I better check it out.” The sheriff says.
            “Of course Sheriff, my husband will show you the way. I don’t have much of a stomach for these types of things.” Diane says.
            Kurt nods and leads the Sheriff out the back sliding glass door out to the patio.
            “We called our boys aunt to go pick them up for us. They didn’t need to come home and see this.”
            “I can’t say that I blame you there.” The Sheriff says.
            The Sheriff approaches the shed and soon as he sees the mutilated remains of Tabitha he turns and vomits into Diane’s’ rose bush. He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform before turning back to Kurt.
            “You said you heard a howling sound?”
            “Yes sir.”
            “I know this may sound crazy Kurt but we have been getting calls of wolf sightings in the woods near here. Some people speculate maybe Tabitha here brought one into the area since they aren’t indigenous to the area. I guess this shows that she wasn’t able to control the beast.”
            “I guess no one really can.”
            Soon after the coroner van shows up and takes what’s left of Tabitha away. After they leave Kurt locks up the shed and covers the blood spots on the patio with a few rugs from the garage before walking back into the house. Diane stands in the kitchen with her eyes lowered while drinking a glass of wine.
            “You must think that I am a monster now.” She says while a tear falls from her cheek.
            Kurt walks over to her and wipes the tear away.
            “No I don’t think that you’re a monster. I may not agree with what you did but I love you. The fact that you did what you did just shows how deeply you do love me. No one has ever made me feel that important in their lives and I thank you for that.”
            He pulls her face to his and kisses her lips softly, tasting the wine on her lips. Then he pulls away and looks her in the eyes.
            “Just know now that you never have to worry about anything with me or get jealous.” Kurt says with a smile.
            Diane smiles back at him and stretch her arms while yawning.
            “I guess we should probably go get the boys soon before they drive the sitter crazy.” He says.
            “Yeah it’s been a long day.”
            Kurt wraps his arms around his wife again and she snuggles her face into his shoulder and he can feel her smiling. As crazy as the situation may be the fact remains that they are perfect for one another and will live a long and happy life together raising their boys. As for the She-Wolf of Lake Wildwood no one has seen the creature or heard a sign of her ever since that night.  

Author Bio:

Ronald Edward Griffin is a native of Macon, GA where he was born and raised. He is an accomplished Author in his own right and is always working hard on something. He has two children whom he hopes to pass his writing bug on to them.

by: MJ Boshers

              It’s a rainy night as Jenna stares out her window, trying to make sense of the world. She prays to anyone or anything that will hear her on this lonely night. Her heart hurts and she cries out in pain. Sometimes she thinks she should just end the pain herself, but realizes that nobody would miss her if she were gone. She laughs at the thought because the very reason she should end it all is the very reason she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to die yet, not without being loved, wanted, or at least desired by someone.
              She wipes her eyes and sees a figure across the street. It’s a man. He stares at her as he is drenched by the rain. She gets a chill down her spine and decides to go to bed. She tosses and turns until three in the morning. It’s still storming outside and a flash of lightning comes through the window. She jumps when she sees a man standing over her. It’s the man from earlier, the man she saw across the street. He is soaking wet.
              “Who are you?” she asks.
              He looks at her with his bright blue eyes. “I am the answer to your prayers,” he says. He holds out his hand and she takes it, knowing she has no other options.
              “Where are we going?” she asks as he pulls her in close to him.
              “Home,” he says. Flames fill the room and she grabs him tighter. He gives her a little smirk and they disappear. They enter a room filled with animals…dead animals.
              “Please tell me this isn’t home,” she says, worried.
              “No,” he says. “Just somewhere private. I wanted to let you know what you asked for.”
              “And what is that?” she asks, swallowing hard as he turns away from her and takes his jacket off.
              “You asked for someone to love you, to want you, and to desire you.” He turns back to her. “I can be that someone.” He grabs her hand and she notices, as the light hits his face, how handsome he is.
              “Why me?” she asks.
              He laughs at her. “Let’s just say that we want the same things.”
              Jenna looks into his eyes and he looks back into hers. This could be her chance…her only chance. “What is your name?” asks Jenna.
              “Derik,” he says as his lips get closer to hers. She gasps, knowing he is about to kiss her. When his lips touch hers she feels something she’s never felt before. She feels his need for her and she loves the feeling. “I have to ask you,” he says, backing away from the kiss. “Before this goes any further. I need something from you first.” He strokes her cheek.
              “Whatever it is—
              “I need your heart,” he says. “I need your whole heart. Are you willing to give it to me?”
              “Of course,” Jenna says, still feeling weak from the kiss. She leans in for another.
              “Are you sure?” he asks again. “Once you give me your heart, it can’t be returned.”
              “I’d give anything,” she says, desperate for him to kiss her again. He leans forward.
              “So be it,” he whispers in her ear and then gently kisses her. She feels a pressure in her chest and she gasps for air. Her eyes widen with shock. “Don’t worry,” he says. “It will only hurt for a second.” He pulls his bloody hand out of her chest and reveals her heart. She looks down at the hole in her chest and looks back to him confused as she falls. He catches her before she hits the ground. “Don’t be afraid,” he says. “Just let go. I will be right here when you wake…just let go.” She gives him a smile because for some reason, she trusts him completely. She closes her eyes and drifts away. Derik strokes her cheek and sighs. “You are my angel, Jenna,” he says and he picks her up and they vanish.
              Jenna wakes up in her bedroom and immediately feels for a hole in her chest. When she doesn’t find a hole, she gets up to go splash water on her face. She laughs at the crazy dream she has just had. While she washes her face she notices her eyes in the mirror. They are bright blue, just like Derik’s were in her dream.
              “It wasn’t a dream,” Derik says from behind her, making her jump.
              “What did you do to me?” she asks.
              “Made you like me,” he says, backing her up against the sink.
              “And what are you?” she says, not being able to take her eyes off of his lips.
              “Someone who wants you to want me, someone who desires you to desire me, and someone who will be with you forever,” he says, stroking her cheek. “Do you want the same from me?”
              “Yes,” she answers, swallowing a lump in her throat.
              “Good,” he says, picking her up and carrying her to bed.
              Everything she has ever wanted is carrying her to bed and her heart should be racing, but she can’t feel it. She remembers him ripping it out of her chest and she panics again. “What am I?” she asks.
              He sighs, not wanting to tell her. He lays her down on the bed and rubs his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ll tell you everything, but first…” He kisses her and her body aches for him. She bites her lip, as he kisses every inch of her. She screams for him to take her when she can’t take any more.
              “I want you now,” she says. He finally gives her what she has waited so long for. Everything she has ever wanted she has been given in one night and right now she is not worried about the price.
              Jenna lays on Derik’s chest and realizes he has no heartbeat either and she bites her lip, thinking.
              “What are you thinking?” Derik asks.
              “Nothing,” she says.
              “You can tell me anything,” he says. “Was I not what you hoped for?”
              “No,” she laughs. “That was more than I could’ve hoped for, but…”
              “But what?”
              “I still wonder why you chose me,” she says, sitting up in the bed. “I mean look at me…I’m nothing…a nobody.”
              “You’re wrong,” he breaks in. “I picked you because you possess qualities that most all woman lack. Strength and beauty,” he says, smiling. She looks down in embarrassment. He pulls her chin back up to look at him. “Inside as well as outside. You’re pure,” he says, with a smirk. “Well, you were.” She gives him a shy smile. “And you have more love to give than anyone I have ever came across. You don’t know how long I’ve searched for you.” He combs his fingers through her hair.
              “What am I?” she asks again and this time he knows he must tell her.
              He looks into her eyes hoping she will not freak out. “You’re a demon, Love,” he says with his British accent, waiting for a scream.
              “Oh,” she says, softly.
              “Oh,” he says. “That’s all you have to say.” He laughs.
              “I don’t know,” she says. “It’s not what I expected.”
              “What did you expect?”
              “Werewolf, Vampire, or Faery,” she says. “I know stupid, right.”
              “No, not stupid at all,” he says. “Considering they exist as well.”
              “What!” Jenna yells.
              “Now you scream,” he says.
              “Sorry,” Jenna says. “What now?”
              “You can do whatever you want to do Jenna,” he says. “The world is yours, but first you need to meet my father.”
              “You have a father?”
              “Doesn’t everybody?” Derik asks.
              “I didn’t,” she says.
              “Everyone has a father. Whether you like them or if you’ve met them is another issue.”
              “What does your father do?” she asks. “Is he a demon like you?”
              “Sort of,” he says. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
              They enter a hall-way made of stone. A woman quickly runs up to Derik and grabs his arm. “Where have you been?” she asks. “Your father has been calling you all night.”
              He backs away from the woman. “Amelia, this is Jenna and she belongs to me now.”
              “What,” Amelia asks. “You couldn’t have,” she says, backing away from us. “Your father is going to go ballistic.”
              “It will be fine, Amelia,” Derik says. “Damien still needs a bride.”
              Jenna looks up to see that Amelia’s eyes are red and not blue like theirs. Amelia notices Jenna’s eyes as well. She gasps. “She’s pure!” she yells and she runs out of the room.
              “She over-exaggerates,” Derik says. He grabs Jenna’s hand and they enter the next room. A man turns to great them.
              “It’s about time,” he says.
              “Father, I want you to meet—
              “Yes,” he says. “I know.” The man looks into Jenna’s eyes. “Pure,” he says with a sigh. “Son, do you know what you have done?”
              “She doesn’t belong here!” Derik’s father says.
              “She belongs with me!” Derik yells.
              His father paces back and forth and begins to get frustrated. “They will seek war for this. I will not have it. I will have war, but on my terms…not theirs,” he says.
              “Father, I can talk to them. Once they know—
              “I am Lucifer and I will not allow this, Derik!”
              Jenna’s eyes widen with alarm. “Your father is Lucifer!”
              “Forget to mention that, did he?” Lucifer says.
            Jenna backs up wondering what she has got herself in to.
              “Jenna, don’t freak out,” Derik says.
              “Your father is the Devil,” she says, calmly. “Why would that freak me out?” She tries to sound as sarcastic as she can.
              “I was going to tell you,” he says. “But I was scared.”
              “Of what?” she asks, looking at him confused.
              “That you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he says.
              She grabs his hand. “That will never be an issue,” she says. The Devil laughs at her comment.
              “Why don’t you give me a moment with my son?” Lucifer asks, snapping his fingers. Before she can argue, she is back in her apartment. She sits down at the kitchen counter to try and let all the events of the day sink in. Her stomach begins to growl. She goes to get something to eat, but nothing seems appetizing to her. She sniffs the air and something smells amazing to her. She thinks it must be the restaurant around the corner so she decides to go find out. Whatever that smell is, she has to have it. The restaurant is crowded and she can’t focus on the smell anymore. She begins to get agitated. “Table for one?” the hostess asks.
              “I guess,” she says and follows her to sit down. “What smells so good today?” she
              “The special I guess,” the hostess says. “I’ll get your waiter.”
              A man walks by and she gets this overwhelming feeling as the wind blows a scent in her face. She immediately follows him. She catches up to him and reaches to grab him, but someone snatches her back.
              “You know she can’t stay,” Lucifer tells his son.
              “Why not?” Derik argues. “She is just like me.”
              “No, you are my son,” the Devil says. “She doesn’t belong here.”
              “Neither do I, but yet I’m still here.”
              Lucifer sighs, getting impatient with his son. “Look, Derik, I have been through this,” he says. “Trust me when I tell you that this will only end badly.”
              “Just because you scared Mom away—
              “She chose them!” Lucifer says. “Remember that.”
              “Jenna will choose me,” Derik says.
              “Will she?” Lucifer laughs. “Well, what happens when she can’t do what needs to be done? That girl has more love in her than your mother had. There is no way she’ll be able to feed.”
              “I’ll walk her through it,” Derik says, not knowing if he believes himself. “She’ll be fine.”
              “Well, you better hurry,” Lucifer says. “She’ll be getting hungry soon.”
              Jenna turns around to Derik. She hugs him. “What is happening to me?” she says. He pulls her head in close to his chest and kisses her forehead.
              “I’m so sorry,” Derik says.
              “Why am I so hungry?”
              “Because as a demon, regular food will not sustain you here in the mortal world. You have to eat something else if you want to survive here.”
              “What do we eat?” asks Jenna, hoping it isn’t blood or brains.
              “The souls of the damned,” he says.
              “The souls of the damned?” she repeats. “How do you eat a soul and how do you know they are damned? People change their mind about good and evil all the time.”
              “Do you smell that?” he asks.
              “Yes,” she says, taking in the aroma. “What is that? It smells so good.”
              “You see that guy over there,” Derik says and points to the man she was following.
              “He’s a very bad man and the smell…is his soul.”
              “Oh…” she says, figuring it all out.
              “And trust me when I say his soul is as damned as they get.”
              Jenna sighs not really liking the whole idea of eating souls, but if it’s what she has to do to be with Derik, she’ll have to learn to deal with it. “Are you ready?” he asks. He can see her uncertainty. “Trust me, Jenna.”
              “Okay,” she says. “What do I do?”
              He grabs her and brings her in close. He turns her around so her back is against his body. He pulls her arm up as if she is reaching for the man. “Call out to his soul,” he says. They get closer to the man and she hesitates, looking at all the people who will see them. “Don’t worry,” Derik says. “They can’t see us.”
              Jenna closes her eyes. “Okay, focus on his soul…the smell and tell it to come to you.” A black shape comes from the man’s mouth. It looks like smoke. The man falls to the floor and people come running to check on him. The black soul reaches Jenna’s mouth and she looks to Derik. “Go ahead,” he says. She opens her mouth and the soul enters her. She believes it is the best thing she has ever had, but she still feels guilty about taking a life, even if it is damned. “How do you feel?” Derik asks.
              “Good,” she says.
              “Great job,” he says.
              “Do all demons eat souls?”
              “No,” he says. “Dad only lets a few out of Hell…the privileged. Other demons aren’t like you and me, Jenna. They have to eat, but they eat the good souls.”
              “What…are you serious?” she asks. “But that’s—
              “Wrong…yes, but they are demons, remember and so are we.” Jenna is silent, finally realizing what she is. “Are you okay?”
              “I think I want to go home,” she says. He takes her back to her apartment. “Where will I stay?” she asks, looking around at all her stuff.
              “Wherever you want,” he says. “But, like I said, to sustain your life here you will have to eat.”
              “Okay, but what if we went back?” she asks.
              “Well,” he says, coming closer to her. “You would stay with me, if that is what you choose.” She looks into his eyes and knows that it doesn’t matter where they are as long as they are together, even if it is Hell.
              “Then let’s go home,” she says. “I’ll always choose you over anything.” 
              “Are you sure?” he asks. “My family is a lot to take in.”
              “I’ll deal,” she says.
              “Then let’s go home,” he says.
              Jenna wakes up alone. She has been in Hell with Derik for a week, but it has seemed like paradise to her. He hasn’t left her side, until now. She gets out of bed and walks down the hallway, heading towards the Livingroom. She stops when she hears voices. Derik and Lucifer are talking so she leans in to get a better listen. “Enough is enough, Derik,” says Lucifer. “I’ve let you have your fun. It’s time to let her go.”
              “I will never let her go, Father,” Derik argues. “I love her.”
              Jenna can’t help but smile at his comment.
              “You are a demon!” his Father yells. “Demons don’t love anything. Love makes you weak.”
              “You loved Mother and you love Damien and me…I hope.” Derik looks at his father for assurance.
              “Family is different,” Lucifer says. “And you know what happened with your Mother. That’s why I’m trying to make you see—
              “Father,” says Derik breaks in. “I know you’re trying to protect me against what you had to go through, but let this play out. She might surprise you.”
              “It’s not me she will need to convince,” Lucifer says. “Michael will come for her, son, and I will not try and stop him.”
              “He will not take her from me,” says Derik. “I won’t let him.”
              “You can’t stop your Uncle,” says Lucifer. “And I will stop you if you try.”
              “No!” Lucifer shouts and flames come from his fingertips. Jenna jumps. “This is all on Jenna now, do you understand?”
              “Yes, Father,” says Derik and his Father gets up to leave. Jenna runs back toward the bedroom so Derik doesn’t realize she heard the conversation. Someone pops up out of nowhere and she runs in to them. “Oh, sorry,” she says.
              “Quiet all right, Jenna…is it?” he asks.
              “Yes…and you are?”
              “I’m Damien, Derik’s brother,” he says, smiling.
              “Oh, hi,” she says.
              “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner, but I’ve been busy with work.”
              “It’s nice to meet you,” she says.
              “Is it?” he laughs as he circles her. “Nobody has ever told me that before. I have to say that it is not a total waste of my time meeting you either.”
              “Thank you,” she says, not knowing if that is a complement or not.
              “Little Bro gets all the perks,” he says. Jenna starts to feel a bit uncomfortable around him. He inches toward her and backs her up against the wall. He looks into her blue eyes with his that are blood red. “I can see his fascination with you.” She glances down the hall and sees Derik coming. “Speak of the Devil’s son,” Damien says.
              “What’s going on?” asks Derik.
              “Just getting acquainted,” says Damien. “But I do have to get back to work. Not all of us can sit around and play house, right Brother?” Damien smirks and vanishes.
              “Are you okay?” asks Derik.
              “Yes,” she replies. “I’m fine. He seems like a ray of sunshine.”
              “Yes, he is delightful,” says Derik, laughing. The ground starts to shake and Jenna holds on to Derik. “What is that?” she asks.
              “I don’t know,” he lies. Rocks start to fall around them. He knows what is happening because it has happened before, every time his Uncle comes down to visit. He grabs Jenna’s hand and runs. A man in a white suit appears and blocks their way.
              “Hello, Nephew,” the man says.
               “Michael,” Derik says, grinding his teeth in anger. He squeezes Jenna’s hand and they are back in her apartment.
              “Who was that?” Jenna asks. “What is happening?”
              “That was Michael,” says Derik. “We have to hide you before—
              “Before what,” replies Michael. He grabs Derik by the throat. “You really disappoint me, Nephew.”
              “No!” Jenna cries. “Don’t hurt him.” Michael releases Derik and moves toward Jenna.
               “He’s not the one I’m here for,” Michael says. “I’m taking you to Heaven where you belong.”
              “I belong with Derik!” she yells. Derik smiles at her comment. She chose him.
              “You know the rules, Derik,” Michael says. “Nobody pure can live in Hell.”
              “I live in Hell!” yells Derik. “I am pure! Does nobody get that! I am the only pure demon in Hell. Is it too much to ask to have someone there that can make me happy?”
              “Derik,” Michael says in a soft tone. “I am sorry that you got stuck in Hell with your Father, but rules are rules.” Michael grabs Jenna’s arm and Derik runs toward them. Michael snaps his fingers and before Derik can reach them they vanish. He falls to the floor, realizing she may be gone for good.
              “Jenna!” he cries. Flames shoot from his hands as he screams her name.
              “Father!” Derik shouts as he enters Lucifer’s castle. Lucifer comes at once. “Where is she?” Derik demands.
              “Calm down, son.”
              “I know you know where she is,” Derik says. “Tell me!” He throws his father across the room. The guards run in and Lucifer quickly puts his hand up to hold them off.
              “I’m going to let that one slide because of your situation, but do not test me, boy.”
              “You could have stopped him.”
              “She didn’t belong here!”
              “Neither do I,” says Derik and he starts to walk away.
              “Where are you going?” Lucifer asks, but Derik doesn’t answer. Damien walks in at the same time and Derik runs into him.
              “Hey, Bro,” Damien says. Derik pushes him out of the way. “What is his problem?”
              “Damien,” Lucifer says. “Keep an eye on your Brother. See what he is up to. Don’t let him out of your site.”
              “Yes, sir,” he says and runs to catch up with Derik.
              “Hey, Bro,” he says. “What’s going on?”
              “Don’t act as if you care,” says Derik.
              “I don’t, but I’m curious,” Damien says.
              “Michael took Jenna,” he says.
              “Oh…that sucks,” Damien says. “I looked forward to playing with that one.”
              Derik slams him up against the wall. “She is not yours to play with, Brother.”
              “Yours either, apparently, Brother,” Damien replies. Flames come from Derik’s fingertips. “Okay, easy. Just teasing.” Derik lets go of his brother. “What are you going to do now?” Damien asks, straitening his clothes out.
              “I’m going to get her back and you are going to help me,” Derik says. “There has to be a spell to bring her back. We need to go get us a witch.”
              “Where are we?” Jenna asks and looks around to see she is in a room of a warehouse. “I thought we were going to Heaven?”
              Michael laughs. “Now that’s funny,” he says. She gives him a confused look. He snaps his fingers and she is tied up to a chair.
              “What are you doing?” she asks, trying to wiggle out of the ropes.
              “You’re a demon!” he says, bending down to her level. “Demons are not allowed in Heaven.”
              “Then why are we here?” she asks.
              “Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he says, taking a blade from his pocket.
              “I thought you were an angel?” she asks, beginning to panic.
              “I’m an Archangel,” he says. “So I can pretty much kill any demon I want. It’s my duty. My brother handed you to me on a silver platter. He just wants me to wait a bit.”
              “But Lucifer said—
              “Lucifer is the Devil…he lied,” Michael says. “All that about Derik’s Mom was a lie. No demon has ever entered Heaven and they never will, even a pure one.”
              “Then what happened to his Mom?”
              Michael sighs. “He picked up some poor lonely women and used her. When he was done he killed her. He turned Derik when he was a baby.”
              “I thought he was born a demon?”
              “I think I’ve said too much,” Michael says, smiling. “And I’ve grown impatient with Lucifer so let’s get to it shall we.”
              Jenna tenses up as he starts to come toward her. “What will happen when I die,” she asks. She tears up thinking about the fact she might not ever see Derik again.
              “You chose Hell when you chose Derik and now you will see it up close,” he says.
              “I chose love,” she says.
              “Well everyone makes their choice in life and now you must live…or die with yours.” He comes forward again with his knife and she closes her eyes and waits for death.
              Derik and Damien walk into a shop and a young woman walks into the room. “Can I help you?” she asks. She looks up at them and quickly tries to run to the back of the store. Damien grabs her before she can get away.
              “You do have a way with people, Brother,” Damien says.
              “Why are you running?” Derik asks.
              “You’re demons,” she says, struggling to get away.
              “How?” he asks, but remembers how some witches can see true forms. “You can see our true form. Look, we don’t want to hurt you.”
              “Speak for yourself,” Damien says.
              “Control yourself,” Derik orders. “We need your help, Maggie.” She gives him a curious look. “I got your name from a friend. He said you could help, but it looks as if you may be a little…inexperienced to handle this.”
              She smiles. “Don’t let my looks fool you,” she says as a light comes from her body and slams Damien into the wall. “I’m older than I look and I can handle anything.”
              “You’re Fae,” Derik says.
              “Half, actually,” she says.
              “Jenna would love to meet you.”
              “Jenna?” she asks.
              “She is why I am here,” Derik says. “I need her back. She’s been taken.”
              “You’re different from the others,” she says. “You can love.”
              “Yes,” he says. “And I love Jenna. Can you help me?”
              “I can try,” she says. “Is she a demon?”
              “Yes, she is like me,” he replies.
              “Then I will need her heart…and yours.” He looks at her confused and laughs. Damien stands up and runs toward her.
              “Damien, no!” Derik yells, giving Maggie a warning. She raises her hand and Damien falls to the ground in pain. He grabs his head and screams.
              She looks back toward Derik. “I can’t do the spell without both your hearts,” she says.
              “Don’t listen to her, Derik,” Damien says with pain in his voice.
              “Give me a moment,” she says and walks toward Damien. She looks into his eyes and Damien realizes she is reading his thoughts. “Get out of my head, Bitch!” he yells.
              “Thank you,” she says to Damien. “That’s what I needed to know.” She raises her hand and he disappears.
              “Where did he go?” Derik asks.
              “Back to Hell where he belongs,” she says.
              “Why?” he asks, confused as to what is happening.
              She looks at him with pity. “Derik, you weren’t born a demon. I don’t know why, but they have been lying to you this whole time.
              “What? Why would they lie about that?” he asks, trying not to believe it, but he doesn’t put anything past his Father or his brother.
              “We don’t have time,” she says. “You need to go and find your heart before they do.”
              “I don’t know where to look,” replies Derik.
              She thinks for a moment to make sure this is what she wants to do, but she feels sorry for him. “Take me with you,” she says.
              “No,” he says. “Faeries can’t survive in Hell. You will wither.”
              “We won’t be there long enough for that to happen,” she says. She holds out her hand. “Let’s go and I’ll locate your heart.”
              He sighs with concern, but grabs her hand and takes her to Hell.
              “Michael!” Lucifer yells. Michael stops seconds before the blade strikes Jenna.
              “What now, Brother. I’m growing tired of your mood swings.”
              “We just have a slight change in plans,” Lucifer says. “Derik knows about his past and it’s only an amount of time for one of his tantrums. We will need her to keep him in check. Besides you know you can’t kill her. You can only banish her.” Jenna gives him an angry look because he made her believe she was going to die. He gives her a smile and a wink.
              “I didn’t think Angels could lie,” she says.
              “You forget, I’m not an ordinary Angel,” Michael says. “I’m an Archangel. I’m ‘The An—
              “We know your ‘The Angel’,” Lucifer says. “Just because you are the oldest, Michael, doesn’t make you ‘The Angel’. He has a bit of an ego problem.” He looks toward Jenna.
              “Really,” she says. “Maybe it runs in the family.”
              Michael bursts out laughing. “I like this girl,” he says. “I hope it works out for you, Sweetheart.” He gives her another wink and vanishes.
              Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Okay, this is how it’s going to go…”
              “Let me finish that sentence for you, Father,” Derik says.
              Lucifer’s eyes widen in surprise. “Hello, son,” he says.
              “You killed my mother,” Derik says.
              “Yes, well she would have made you weak,” the Devil says.
              “Well, you don’t have to worry about me being weak anymore,” replies Derik.
              “Well, it’s about time,” Lucifer says. “It only took twenty-five years.”
              “Jenna, come here,” Derik says. He can tell Maggie’s spell is starting to work. “This may hurt a bit.”
              Maggie appears to finish her spell. A light appears in Jenna’s chest and she screams as she falls to the ground. Derik also falls to the ground. Lucifer begins to worry. “What’s happening?” he asks.
              “She’s Faery,” Damien yells appearing next to his father. Lucifer reaches for her, but she is protected by a barrier.
              “I’ll get through in a minute precious,” Lucifer says. She panics and chants quicker, but as soon as she’s almost finished Lucifer breaks through the barrier. He grabs her by the throat. “What do you think you are trying to do?” he asks. “I’m not trying to do anything,” she says, short on breath from him squeezing her throat. She looks the Devil in the eyes. “I did.” She raises her hand and says the last words of the spell. “It is done,” she says. Blood starts to run out of her veins and floats into the air. It hovers over two hearts that appear. The hearts hover in front of Jenna and Derik. The blood seeps into the hearts and they light up as they enter their chests. “Their flame will burn forever.”
              Lucifer takes his hand and thrusts it through Maggie’s chest. She gasps as he removes her heart. She smiles at him and vanishes. Lucifer drops the heart and it vanishes as well. He looks back to see that Jenna and Derik are gone as well. “No! Stupid Faery!” he shouts. The ground begins to rumble and the building collapses.
              Jenna wakes with Derik looking at her. “Everything is going to be fine now,” he says. “We will be together forever and nobody will ever come between us again. We are Faeries now. Sleep now you need your rest.” He kisses her cheek and she falls back to sleep. The power he feels is amazing. It courses through his veins like fire. He wonders what the future holds for a moment and then looks back at Jenna. “She is my future,” he answers himself. “And that is all that matters.” He lies down next to her with no worries of what lies ahead.

Author Bio:
MJ Boshers is an Author of Fantasy and YA novels. The Faewitch is her debut novel and the beginning of a great trilogy. She also has a YA series called Backlash coming soon. She is from the South and is also a songwriter, two things she loves to incorporate in her novels. In college she studied Graphic Design and Photography. She loves hanging out with her husband and daughter in Alabama.


a three book series. She has a YA novel, Backlash, coming soon as well. She is also a songwriter and loves to add music to her novels whenever she can. She

Bram Stoker
by The Vampire Queen1

Abraham "Bram" Stoker (8 November 1847 – 20 April 1912) was an Irish author, best known today for his 1897 Gothic novel, Dracula. During his lifetime, he was better known as the personal assistant of actor Henry Irving and business manager of the Lyceum Theatre in London, which Irving owned.
Stoker was bedridden with an unknown illness until he started school at the age of seven, when he made a complete recovery. Of this time, Stoker wrote, "I was naturally thoughtful, and the leisure of long illness gave opportunity for many thoughts which were fruitful according to their kind in later years." He was educated in a private school run by the Rev. William Woods.[5]
After his recovery, he grew up without further major health issues, even excelling as an athlete (he was named University Athlete) at Trinity College, Dublin, which he attended from 1864 to 1870. He graduated with honours as a B.A. in Mathematics. He was auditor of the College Historical Society ("the Hist") and president of the University Philosophical Society, where his first paper was on "Sensationalism in Fiction and Society".

In 1878 Stoker married Florence Balcombe, daughter of Lieutenant-Colonel James Balcombe of 1 Marino Crescent. She was a celebrated beauty whose former suitor was Oscar Wilde.[6] Stoker had known Wilde from his student days, having proposed him for membership of the university’s Philosophical Society while he was president. Wilde was upset at Florence's decision, but Stoker later resumed the acquaintanceship, and after Wilde's fall visited him on the Continent.[7]
The Stokers moved to London, where Stoker became acting manager and then business manager of Henry Irving's Lyceum Theatre, London, a post he held for 27 years. On 31 December 1879, Bram and Florence's only child was born, a son whom they christened Irving Noel Thornley Stoker. The collaboration with Henry Irving was important for Stoker and through him he became involved in London's high society, where he met James Abbott McNeill Whistler and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (to whom he was distantly related). Working for Irving, the most famous actor of his time, and managing one of the most successful theatres in London made Stoker a notable if busy man. He was dedicated to Irving and his memoirs show he idolized him. In London Stoker also met Hall Caine, who became one of his closest friends – he dedicated Dracula to him.
In the course of Irving's tours, Stoker travelled the world, although he never visited Eastern Europe, a setting for his most famous novel. Stoker enjoyed the United States, where Irving was popular. With Irving he was invited twice to the White House, and knew William McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt. Stoker set two of his novels there, using Americans as characters, the most notable being Quincey Morris. He also met one of his literary idols, Walt Whitman.

Before writing Dracula Stoker met Ármin Vámbéry, a Hungarian writer and traveler. Dracula likely emerged from Vámbéry's dark stories of the Carpathian mountains.[9] Stoker then spent several years researching European folklore and mythological stories of vampires.
Dracula is an epistolary novel, written as a collection of realistic, but completely fictional, diary entries, telegrams, letters, ship's logs, and newspaper clippings, all of which added a level of detailed realism to the story, a skill Stoker had developed as a newspaper writer. At the time of its publication, Dracula was considered a "straightforward horror novel" based on imaginary creations of supernatural life.[8] "It gave form to a universal fantasy . . . and became a part of popular culture."[8]
According to the Encyclopedia of World Biography, Stoker's stories are today included in the categories of "horror fiction", "romanticized Gothic" stories, and "melodrama."[8] They are classified alongside other "works of popular fiction" such as Mary Shelley'sFrankenstein,[10]:394 which, according to historian Jules Zanger, also used the "myth-making" and story-telling method of having "multiple narrators" telling the same tale from different perspectives. "'They can't all be lying,' thinks the reader."[11]
The original 541-page manuscript of Dracula was believed to have been lost until it was found in a barn in northwestern Pennsylvania in the early 1980s.[12] It included the typed manuscript with many corrections, and handwritten on the title page was "THE UN-DEAD." The author's name was shown at the bottom as Bram Stoker. Author Robert Latham remarked: "the most famous horror novel ever published, its title changed at the last minute."[10] The manuscript was purchased by Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen.
Stoker's inspirations for the story, in addition to Whitby, may have included a visit to Slains Castle in Aberdeenshire, a visit to the crypts of St. Michan's Church in Dublin and the novella Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu.[13]
Stoker's original research notes for the novel are kept by the Rosenbach Museum and Library in Philadelphia, PA. A facsimile edition of the notes was created by Elizabeth Miller and Robert Eighteen-Bisang in 1998.

After suffering a number of strokes, Stoker died at No. 26 St George's Square on 20 April 1912.[14] Some biographers attribute the cause of death to tertiary syphilis,[15] others to overwork.[16] He was cremated, and his ashes placed in a display urn at Golders Green Crematorium. After Irving Noel Stoker's death in 1961, his ashes were added to that urn. The original plan had been to keep his parents' ashes together, but after Florence Stoker's death, her ashes were scattered at the Gardens of Rest. Visitors to his urn at Golders Green are escorted to the room as a precaution against vandalism.

The short story collection Dracula's Guest and Other Weird Stories was published in 1914 by Stoker's widow Florence Stoker. The first film adaptation of Dracula was released in 1922 and was named Nosferatu. It was directed by F. W. Murnau and starred Max Schreck as Count Orlock. Nosferatu was produced while Florence Stoker, Bram Stoker's widow and literary executrix, was still alive. Represented by the attorneys of the British Incorporated Society of Authors, she eventually sued the filmmakers. Her chief legal complaint was that she had been neither asked for permission for the adaptation nor paid any royalty. The case dragged on for some years, with Mrs. Stoker demanding the destruction of the negative and all prints of the film. The suit was finally resolved in the widow's favour in July 1925. Some copies of the film survived, however, and the film has become well known. The first authorized film version of Dracula did not come about until almost a decade later when Universal Studios released Tod Browning's Dracula starring Bela Lugosi.
Because of the Stokers' frustrating history with Dracula's copyright, a great-grandnephew of Bram Stoker, Canadian writer Dacre Stoker, with encouragement from screenwriter Ian Holt, decided to write "a sequel that bore the Stoker name" to "reestablish creative control” over the original novel. In 2009, Dracula: The Un-Dead was released, written by Dacre Stoker and Ian Holt. Both writers "based [their work] on Bram Stoker's own handwritten notes for characters and plot threads excised from the original edition" along with their own research for the sequel. This also marked Dacre Stoker's writing debut.[21][22]
In Spring 2012, Dacre Stoker, in collaboration with Prof. Elizabeth Miller, presented the "lost" Dublin Journal written by Bram Stoker, which had been kept by his great-grandson Noel Dobbs. Stoker's diary entries shed a light on the issues that concerned him before his London years. A remark about a boy who caught flies in a bottle might be a clue for the later development of the Renfield character in Dracula.[23]
On 8 November 2012, Stoker was honoured with a Google Doodle on Google's homepage commemorating his 165th birthday.[24][25]
An annual festival takes place in Dublin, the birthplace of Bram Stoker, in honour of his literary achievements. The 2014 Bram Stoker Festival, which encompassed literary, film, family, street and outdoor events ran from 24–27 October in and around Dublin City.[26][27] The festival is supported by the Bram Stoker Estate[28] and funded by Dublin City Council and Failte Ireland.

Author Bio:

The Vampire Queen1 aka Jodie Pierce has been writing since Jr. High School but was unsatisfied with her teenage romance stories. One day, a friend handed her an Anne Rice book and she found her inspiration. She’s been writing about vampires ever since.

The Worm Farm
by Helen Bishop (Chapters 15 & 16):

On the way to town I tried to keep myself still and groaned a bit when Dan hit bumps. When we got there, he took me to the Doc first, and said he'd be back to get me. Doc had me sit on the edge of his table and got the nurse to help get my clothes off down to my skivvies. He asked me what I remembered and I told him. Doc said," I don't think he molested you, Charlie, at least not sexually" I blushed and he asked the nurse to leave for a while. " Your underwear is clean and dry, and there's no blood. Your face on the other hand is all bruised up, you lip is busted, and I think you might have a cracked rib or two. Someone really wanted to hurt you!" Doc stitched my lip and wrapped my ribs, he gave me a shot for the pain, and told me to relax until Dan came back. I kinda dozed out on the table, with the crinkly paper under me, and thought about the boy hanging in my dungeon. It occurred to me that I might not have to 'disappear' him. He got knocked out suddenly, and I had blind-folded his eyes before I hung him. Maybe I could teach him his lesson and then let him go, it would be interesting to see. The worms would miss him, I thought, laughing to myself, but maybe he'd give them something to remember him by.

I must have fallen asleep, because when Dan came he had to wake me up. Doc and he had talked about my injuries, and Doc really wanted me to stay in town for a few days, in case I had problems, but I told them I had to get back for the worms, and after a lot of back and forth, Doc allowed me to go back to the farm, on my promise to call twice a day for the next week, just to check in. I already had a follow-up appointment scheduled for 2 weeks from today. I promised and Dan helped me with my shirt and we left. Doc had fixed me up with some samples of pain-killers.

Before we went out to the farm, Dan offered dinner at the diner, and I accepted, saying I was too tired to do much after I got home. Dan said he would check around the house before he left, but made me promise to call if anything happened.

When we got to the farm, I didn't have to pretend to be tired and sore. After all, I had been beaten, and dragged over rough ground. I expected Bobby was in worse shape now than I was, because by now he'd been hanging by his arms for about 4 and a half hours.  Dan stayed and talked to me a while, but I kept yawning, and finally, he poured a cup of water from the refrigerator for me and made sure I had the pills. 
"I'll call you tomorrow, son," he said, "Try to sleep as long as you can. The worms will be okay for a while."
"I know Dan, I fed them this morning before they came." "Okay, Charlie, go to bed. I'll let myself out. Good night."  I waved as he left. I waited to hear the patrol car leave and then waited another 15 minutes. Then I went down to him.

He was hanging there still but there were signs that he had tried to get down. I decided that if I didn't talk to him he wouldn't know who I was, and if he survived his lesson, maybe I could let him go later. Maybe.

I put a wide swatch of duck- tape over the blind-fold to make sure it stayed on, then I brought the hose out and sprayed him down with the cold well water. If he wasn't awake before he was now. I paid careful attention to his wrists where they had swollen between the zip ties, and to his clothing. He started mumbling behind the gag, so I reached up and pulled it off. He started cussing and screaming, so I turned the hose full into his mouth, thankful that the eye tape would stay on through his soaking. He shut up pretty quick. I slapped him full in the face, then backed off. He started yelling again, and I responded with the hose. We did that a couple more times, until his brain caught on. He got really quiet. I put down the hose, dropping it so he could hear, then went for my box-cutter. I carefully cut his shirt off, and the tee shirt underneath it too.  He said, "What are you doing? Who are you? Are you a pervert?" I picked up the hose and let it answer his questions. Then I dropped the hose again and started to cut off his jeans. He reached out with his foot and tried to kick me, and talked to the hose again. It took him three more times to let me take the jeans without being kicked. He was coming along. He whispered, "My arms- are they broken? They hurt so bad." I dragged a box over underneath the hanging boy and let him stand on it. It was low, he had to reach for it and wound up standing on his toes, but at least the pressure was off his arms. He tried to kick again, and I picked up the hose, and kicked the box away before I blasted him. He started crying, and said, "No, I'm sorry, sorry, please." So I gave him back the box. I left him his underwear. I brought up the hose and dialed back the nozzle to a trickle and put it to his mouth. He drank, then choked, so I took it away. He said, "more, please" and I gave him some more. "I'm hungry, too," he said quietly. I did not respond. I hadn't quite decided whether he was going home or to the worms. I told myself not to talk, and tried to figure out how to give him a lesson without speaking.

I left him then, and went up to the yard. I gave the worms their dinner, forked in some leaf mold and the now-dead minnows, and watered them well. I had fully intended to kill the fish before they went in, but felt bad that they had died because I forgot about them.

I made some burgers on the grill and sat out by the worms to eat them, every once in a while throwing a chunk into their mass, like throwing bits to a pet. The worms weren't picky, the pile heaved and moved, like the floor of snakes in that movie I had seen in the hospital, and the bits disappeared, just like they were never even there. I saved one hamburger back. No condiments, but a bun, and took it down to the boy. He started when I opened the door, and I stood until he stopped swinging. I knew he could smell the burger. I went up and held the sandwich near his mouth. He tried to bite me, or it, and I took it away. I went for the hose, and I know he heard it, because he calmed right down. I held the burger to his face again and when he didn't lunge, put it to his mouth. He opened very carefully and licked at it. A choked, "please?" so I gave all of it to him, a bite at a time, giving him time to chew and swallow. I brought the hose back up, on the low setting and let him drink.  I put the hose down, and put a bit of wood under his box so he could get more of a foothold, and went away, turning off the lights as I went.

I got back up to the house in time to hear the phone ringing, and hurried to get it before it stopped. "Hello?" "Charlie? Are you okay? You sound out of breath?" It was Dan. "I'm okay, was in the bathroom, and I guess I fell asleep on the toilet. Wow, those pain pills are strong." "Are you sure you're alright?" the deputy asked. "Yeah, I was a bit sore, but I took the pill, and I was getting some rest.  I suppose I'll see you tomorrow?" "I can't in the morning, maybe not at all tomorrow. We're out looking for Bobby Drums, seems he never came home. Maybe he ran off, maybe he's lying low till he finds out how much trouble he's in." "That's fine, Dan " I said, "I'm gonna laze around for a few days, man the shed and get some rest." "Okay, Charlie, don't forget to call Doc tomorrow." "I won't."

The next morning, I hurt. I hurt so damn much, almost as badly as in the hospital after I had killed the woman and Sir. I shuffled into the bathroom and lowered myself gingerly onto the toilet, finished that and guided myself, using the walls for support, into the shower. The water hurt at first, then it was better. Not a lot better, but enough that I could get dressed. I held back on the pain pill. I didn't want to get caught groggy if I was with the boy, and I figured the pain would keep me aware, like it had when the woman and Sir were beating on me.

I went into the kitchen and made some toast and coffee. The coffee burned my mouth and I wound up spitting it out, thankfully into the sink. The toast hurt too, and I didn't want to think about maneuvering my sore body around to make a better breakfast. It was too bad Dan wouldn't be up this morning, he would've helped, but he was searching...for someone who couldn't be found, at least not yet... if ever.

I waited a little, then called Doc. He asked me how I was and I was truthful when I told him that it hurt more today than it had right after. Doc asked if I had taken the pain pill. I said, "Not yet, it says to take it with food, and I couldn't really keep anything down yet." He asked if I had applesauce in the house, and I did. He said that would probably stay down and I could take the pill. "Then try to rest, boy," he said. " Rest is the only thing that will help. Maybe you can find someone to help out with the worms."

I had thought of that before, someone to come and help with the farm would be good, but what about the people down in the dungeon? There were still so many people that needed to be 'corrected'.

Thinking of the dungeon, I took the cold toast and spread some of the applesauce on it, saving the rest for later and went on down. He was awake, and muttering to himself. I poked at him, and he stopped. I went over and reached out with the toast. I waited until he opened his mouth, then pushed the piece part-way in. He bit carefully, and chewed, then he opened up for more. I felt like a momma bird, except the baby was hanging. When the boy had finished all the toast, I brought the hose up, and dribbled water into his mouth. I didn't want to get too close-he had been violent before and he smelled like crap-literally. I tapped his hip with the hose nozzle. He started, and I waited, then tapped him again. He seemed to get the point, so I opened the hose up part-way and rinsed him off-starting at his toes. At least he smelled better.

I put down the hose and carefully rolled up the newspaper, set it near the door and spread some more under the boy. It hurt horribly to make the bends, but I managed.

"Where am I?"  he croaked out, barely whispering. "Who are you and why am I here? " I had decided not to talk to him, if he found out it was me, I'd have to send him out to play with the worms. I was thinking how to teach him things, because it appeared he could learn-look how fast he got the hint with the hose.

I reached out and grabbed his mouth, like I had seen him grab his sister. I picked up the hose and pushed the nozzle into his mouth. He tried to drink, but I had the water off. I pushed the nozzle farther in and he started to shake his head back and forth. I pulled the nozzle out and slapped him.

"What? What? Why are you doing this? " he sputtered. I grabbed his face again and put the nozzle to his lips. He refused to open his mouth, so I pinched his nose shut and kicked out the box. When he opened his mouth I jammed the nozzle in, farther than before, far enough to make him gag. He was wriggling like a fish on a hook and trying to push out the nozzle. I pushed farther, almost going down his throat. He was trying to scream around the nozzle, so I pulled it out and turned the hose on full and sprayed his face. Then I slapped him so hard I hurt my hand. He sagged in the bindings.

As soon as I could move freely, and I was sure he was out. I put new duct tape on his mouth being careful to avoid covering his nostrils, and the box back under his feet. I cut off his underwear and stuck a piece of duct tape on the hair around his penis-not all the way around, just on the thickest patch. I also put a piece on his balls and a long piece down the crack of his ass. I wasn't being a pervert, I knew from experience that those areas made a person pay attention. He would lose some hair and maybe some skin in the process, but if it worked, he'd keep on breathing.  I cleaned up and turned off the light, and took my bruised body back on up to the house.

I ripped up the newspaper and flung it over the worm bed, forked in some loam and scattered pellets, then wet it all down. Those pieces of newspaper disappeared before I had coiled up the hose.

I went into the house, had some applesauce and half a pain pill, and gingerly put myself on the recliner. I pulled up a blanket and went away.

Someone was banging on the side of the wall, bang, bang, bang! I sat up fast, then sort of fell back down. The banging continued, and I got up, a little slower this time. I lowered the recliner with the handle on the side, and thought I was going to throw up. The noise continued, but as I was able to stand up, it became knocking on the door. Hard knocking, repeated knocking, but even though I felt every knock in my head like a hammer, it really was only knocking.

Using the walls along the hallway and the counters in the kitchen I pulled myself to the door and wrestled it open. Dan caught me as I pitched forward.

"Charlie! Jeez, are you alright? I've been knocking forever." "I know," I muttered, "you nearly killed me."  "I was worried sick! Nobody had heard from you, nobody had seen you, and with Bobby Drums still missing, I thought the worst!"

"Could you please, please stop shouting? My head is going to explode." "Oh, sorry Charlie, I've just been so worried." Dan helped me lower myself to sit on the stoop. I kept holding on to the door jamb, seriously dizzy. "But, why were you worried? I called Doc before I took my nap..." "That was 2 days ago, son, two days while I was out running the county looking for the Drums boy and Doc calling the office every hour. I gotta call him, he'll probably want to see you." Dan used his cell to call Doc. "Yeah, he was home. No he looks like crap, all pasty and sweaty. Wait, I'll ask. Charlie, Doc wants to know how many pills you took." Charlie held up one finger. "Doc? He took one, yeah, okay I'll be bringing him in, I'll see you in a bit."

Dan had to help me out to his car, I just couldn’t seem to walk straight. Dan put me into the front seat and buckled me in without me doing anything to help. Dan was worried, he was also worried about the dried blood he saw on the back of Charlie's shirt. Something was definitely up.

Charlie lolled in the seat, asleep again or unconscious, Dan didn't know which. He decided to get him to the Doc as fast as he could. He called Doc as he drove. "Doc? It's me. We are on our way. Should I just take him to the hospital? Yes, yes, he looks bad, really bad. He couldn't walk to the car, and he's out again. Okay, I'll meet you there!" When Dan reached the roadway he turned away from town, put on the siren and flashing lights and drove as fast as possible towards the hospital.

As the Deputy pulled into the Emergency entrance to the hospital, staff members were coming out with a stretcher, apparently Doc had called ahead to alert them. Dan started to unbuckle the boy to lift him from the car, but the orderlies took over, putting Charlie on the stretcher and running for the ER.

Dan parked and ran in and by that time they had transferred Charlie onto an examination table and were cutting off his clothes. He already had oxygen cannulas, and someone was taking blood samples. As they were cutting his shirt off, and pulling it out from under him it got stuck on something. They turned him to check and Dan saw a bone coming through the skin of the boy's back. That's when all hell broke loose. Bells were ringing, the ER on-call came running in with Doc, and people were pushing the Deputy, none too gently, from the room.

Dan went and sat in the waiting room, too wound up to read, or even to pace. That kid in there was special to him. He hadn't known him long, but he'd grown very fond of him. If he died from this, Bobby Drums had better run far and run fast. He should have broken the door down, he should have come up last night, even though it was late when they called the search for the night. "God, let him be okay."

Twenty tense minutes later, Doc came out to talk to Dan. "Is he okay?" "He will be, " said Doc.   
"He's going up to surgery now, we have him stabilized. He had a reaction to the pain pill, probably what made him sick and dizzy, but he apparently did chores for the worms anyway, and one of his cracked ribs gave way and pushed through the skin when he bent over or lifted something. He has some internal bleeding, and we need to fix the bone, but he should come out of it okay. They'll be keeping him, at least a couple days, to check him out and regulate his pain meds. He's in good hands, Dan. Don't worry." 

Dan called the office and told them he'd be staying at the hospital until Charlie was out of surgery, and then he'd be in.  He sat and tried to relax, and thought about how he had met Charlie and how he had become his good friend. 'This should never have happened," he mused. "He never should have been so far away and alone.'

Dan looked out the window for a while as an idea came to him, then he made some calls. He had just hung up when Doc and the ER doctor came into the room. "Is he...? ' Dan started.

"He's okay, Dan," said Doc. "We opened him up and stabilized the broken rib and checked the others. We put him in a cast to keep him still, and we'll be keeping him a week." " Can I go see him?" asked Dan. "Of course. Don't tire him out."

Dan walked into recovery and saw Charlie. He looked better already. He had some color in his face, instead of the pale pastiness from before. "Charlie? Are you awake?"

"Yeah, Dan, thanks for bringing me in. Doc explained everything."  Dan smiled. "But Dan, how can I stay here a week? The worms will die." "I have a solution, Charlie, and I already set it up. My nephew Phil, is unhappy in his job in the city. I talked with him and my sister about the farm, and he's willing to come out and tend it while you're in here. If it works out, we're all hoping he can work with you." "But, Dan, he doesn't know how..." Dan interrupted, "I'm going to go and pick him up and bring him to the farm, I know a lot about the feeding and stuff-just from watching you, and I'll help. He's a good kid, Charlie, he'll keep your farm safe." "Okay Dan."

Dan left soon after that, and I tried to get comfortable on the bed. The orderlies came in and took me, my bed and all to the elevator and up to a sunny room. An aide came in with a menu, and helped me pick stuff for dinner, mostly broths and pudding, and put everything near my hands since the cast didn't allow any upward movement.

After dinner, which was more on me than in me, they washed me up, gave me a shot and I went away. Something was bothering me, something kept sliding in and out of my brain, but I couldn't catch it.

Author Bio:

Helen Bishop is a native of Pennsylvania and a true fan of the written word. She works as a litigation paralegal; reads on average 20 books a week; writes book reviews for an internet blog; writes stories, poems and novels in various genres; and-just to fill out her dance card-contracts with fellow authors to proofread and copy-edit their work before it goes to the publisher. You can check her out at

t, and 

Rand’s Story: The Sixth Blood Lord’s pt.2
A Southern Hospitality Companion Story
Brien O’Raighne


Rand turns and face Szin Diablos. There is a look of anger on his face. “What the hell did you do that for?”
Szin raises a brow. “Now. Now, Randall. I was just making things easier for you. This will make it easier for you to create your new Vampire clan and assert yourself as the Sixth Blood Lord of Storm City.”
Rand gulps. “You sure about this? What if Metapol comes knocking on my door? They are not going to let this go lightly, I promise you that.”
“Randall, you worry too much.” Szin has a big grin on his face. He raises his flute into the air and begins drinking more of his champagne. “Now, I wouldn’t waste your time talking to me. They are not going to be out forever. I could change them into vampires in my own right, but I find that coercing people to do it to others is more fun for me.”
“You’re an ass, you know.” Rand spouts.
Szin shrugs his shoulders. “So, I’ve been told on numerous occasions. But nothing surprises me.”


Matt turns from the bar and looks across the room at his brother Lance. Lance taps his earpiece.
“We lost Roxy’s signal.”
“I know.” Mutters Matt. “Brandon is going to kill us.”
“You think. Be glad she gave birth and got back in shape for this, though.” Lance says. “We may have to call in, Des.”
“She and Elise are at home with the kids. No way am I calling in either of them.” Matt says. “We are not putting our girls and kids at risk.”
“Risks are a part of Destiny’s job, you know.”
“I know, bro. But you need to think about, Belle.”
“Trust me, Matt, I am. She’s our best chance to survive this.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.” Lance says. He pulls out his cell phone. He pulls up the contacts. On the contact list he pulls up the list of contacts starting with D. The first name on the list is Destiny. He pulls up the contact and taps the phone icon.


Destiny is looking over her finances as she hears her phone rings. She tosses down her checkbook and a pencil in frustration as she reaches for her phone. She picks up the phone. She looks at the caller ID: LANCE.
“Lance, I thought you were on a mission.” She says.
“I am, Des. I need your help here. Bring the V marked magazines and your guns.” Destiny hears.
She sighs. “Fine. I’ll drop Belle off with Elise. She won’t like being awoken at this hour.”
“Elise will be okay with it. Especially since you’re helping Matt and I.”
“I hope your right.”
“I know I am.” Destiny rolls her eyes and chuckles as she hears the smugness from Lance. Then, his voice changes. “Hurry!”


Roxanne emerges from the VIP rooms and back onto the main floor. She zips over to Matt and knocks him onto the ground. Then, she follows with Lance. She leans into Lance. There is a wry smile on her face.
“Hello, Lance.” The sound of her voice sends a chill up Lance’s spine.
“Roxy… Brandon is so gonna hate us.” Lance mutters.
“Yeah, you let his wife get turned into a Vampire. I don’t think he is going to like it at all.” Roxanne says with a wry grin on her face. “But I cannot go back and face them until I get everything under control.”
Then, she hears the sliding of a pistol’s slide as it loads a bullet in the chamber. Roxanne turns. Her red eyes see someone familiar. The pink haired hunter is pointing a gun at her. “Leave my husband alone, Roxy. Don’t make me turn Brandon into a widower.”
Roxanne stands up. There is a smile on her face. Destiny turns and sees several vampires behind her. A familiar face is behind the vampires. One she hoped to never see again. A smile emerges from his face. “Hello, Destiny. Long time no see, old friend.”

Author Bio:

He is a connoisseur of sci-fi and paranormal films and books. He, also, lives in Houston with his son.

*Anyone looking for a GREAT editor/beta reader should contact Jessica Sawa (same name on Facebook) or at her email: She does excellent work and is even offering specials for Nano pieces!!! Check her out!!!

**Check out the new books by TG Reaper:

***We are looking for people for our special Halloween edition that we are actually going to publish and the proceeds will go to the Alzheimer's Association. 

******If you'd like to contribute an article or become a columnist, please contact me at Also, please feel free to leave a comment here letting us know what you think of the ezine! We love to hear from our readers!!!!

Keep Writing/Reading!
Jodie Pierce

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