Thursday, December 27, 2012

I WAS ROBBED!!!......AGAIN!!!... 12/27/12

Sorry about not blogging for two days. My computer was stolen in a burglary. Forced to use a public one at the library til I can replace it. PLEASE bear with me. Remember, there are more than 900 posts up now. If publishes in book form, it equals five three hundred and fifty page volumes. Should you like to wander about and explore arcs you may have missed, please GOOGLE Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz...or THE LITTLE MATCH BOY by Billy Kravitz (reall good, especially this time of year) or EL RANCHO TEXACO by Billy Kravitz...(think of HOW THE WEST WAS WON on Mars), or BINGO BOY by Billy Kravitz. 

I will try to replace equipment as soon as possible. Desperately miss blogging and comunicating with much appreciated readers and bloggers. Hope everyone had a real nice Christmas. (my stuff was stolen while out visiting family on Christmas Day!) And hope those observing have a meaningful KWANZA too!

BUT~~~ here's a little preview of what's coming up in THE VAMPIRE REVELS....(we will complete BINGO BOY a.s.a.p. too)

Behold, King Rafe, the Lord of Revels, ritually sunk in a peat bog soon after assuming 'the vampiric burden.' He slept in the viscous, tea-like brew each day, cool and protected by the dark, soothing balm, til 'wakened by Shakespeare....A Midsummer's Night's Dream, to be exact. He heard it all the way up on Elsinore's shore. The semi-fluid bog acts like a sound lens, or microphone, collecting tid bits from around the globe.

The reference to OBERON tickled him, for he too bore that name, along with many others. So he sublimated through the ether, condensing in the midst of Restoration England...... in a charnal house to be exact. And the tea-stained wraith with the pale yellow mane dispatched many a plague victim, sparing them further torment.

You'll meet him soon, in the midst of 'THE REVELS'... A delightfully amusing 'Master of The Dance,' twirling and leaping to the throbbing pulse of his AFTER MIDNIGHT orchestra and the NIGHT-FOLK CHORALE.

Must leave now. Unwashed minions crave my blessed spot. I believe they're not zombies...... Well, culturally they are. Such is life....


Until next time...... a vagabond gnat, caught in the public web.


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