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Friday, October 19, 2012
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: vampire wonderland... the book of sarah
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: vampire wonderland... the book of sarah: Blessed art Thou, O Creator-King, Who enables me to share this truth~~~. This is how I help people. This is how I make up for taking lives,...
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah: Here's a peek at the beginning ------ My, how Tomas/Jonathon has grown!------First of all, we must agree that what comes next is fiction. Y...
A VAMPIRE ROMANCE IN OLD TARANTO OR POSSIBLY BARI
The cozy, little bistro closed for the night and so the vampires returned to the street. It was two in the morning. The city was quiet. Some blocks were completely empty, glazed in a damp, cold sheen. Tomas and Sarah silently made their way toward a small, boutique hotel a few streets away. He knew the place. Sometimes he took mortals there. But that was in the past.
The doorman smiled, as they approached and welcomed them inside. I do not know who was a familiar and who was not, but it's safe to say he had the place well peppered with them. Vampires like hotels. They confer a certain anonymity. You can hide there. Escape routes are plentiful.
The intimate lobby was especially inviting. He led her to a small pool of warm, incandescent light (no cold swirly florescent bulbs for this place) in a corner. Vampires prefer corners for the security they provide. She sat in a dark, green, raw silk club chair. He lowered himself into it's mate. A fine, old tall clock ticked off the hours. Their only company, a tired businessman nursed a scotch and water maybe fifteen cubits away. But he didn't care about them.
Tomas let his gaze rise up to a small reproduction...something by the nineteenth century Frenchman, known as David (dah-veed) and then he began......
I was in Taranto, or possibly Bari. Both cities faced the Mediterranean and after all these years seem very much the same to me. Papa was gone. Obviously, you know he created me during one of his 'worldly' interludes. Oh, he was quite involved with humanity back then. Well, up til then. For a turncoat vampire, or elferina, I think it was, fingered him to our enemies and they captured him..... The lead-lined box.... You know about lead and us... The deed was done... He was gone. That's how he wound up buried under the streets of Rome for more than ten hundred years. Did he have the power to get out on his own? Who knows? You've seen how crazy he is. But I was alone... completely and desperately alone. (He stares off, obviously reliving the experience). Sarah just sits and waits......
Some time later I found myself in a city. Oh, we called them 'cities' back then. Perhaps six thousand souls... a stone wall.... stout houses, also stone, for the self styled nobles of the place.... churches, churches and churches... a lane filled with open-front, market stalls and maybe a little corner for the Jews pressed 'gainst the wall. Not an actual ghetto. That came four hundred years later. But it might as well have been one.
I made my nest among my brethren, lest I lapsed into Hebrew, or Aramaic while I slept. Now please know that these were not truly Inquisitional times. But blood besotted Crusaders were everywhere and they were even worse. No trial. No imprisonment. None of that. The Jew, whether old rabbi, young wife, or toddling child was hacked to death on the spot. They almost burnt me once, so I was careful. Most of the Jews there came from the north, refugees from thieving, cut-throat bands along The Rhine. They spoke various dialects of German. I did not. 'Tedesco' my kind called them. Northern peasants... little more. But they knew I was a Jew... exotic, but a Jew. So they took me in and kept me safe. Though their rabbi saw something. He asked questions. I made up answers.... An angel.... A 'Night Watch'..... sent to keep them safe in these uncertain times. Granted, this bunch paid protection to the count and bishop of the place, but an angel's help was a rich gift indeed. And after raising the sexton's daughter from some form of pestilence with a tiny bit of my blood (I called it holy wine) my position was guaranteed.
All went well til the night I first saw Lydia. She silently collected a spider's web from off a market stall, carefully wrapping it 'round a small, broken twig. Her father was an alchemist and valued such things. My enemies were his enemies and by extension hers as well.
But I saw her eyes and she saw mine. A few moments later I kissed her deep within the darkest corner of the nearby stone arcade. Her skin smelled of bee's wax, spices and sandalwood... a true magician's daughter, for she covered me in gossamer spells and bathed my loins with gladness......
By now, even the businessman was listening... God knows what he thought.
So they left that place and headed back toward home......
////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
please tickle the SHARE BAR. help the story spread. leave a COMMENT. and rest well.
The doorman smiled, as they approached and welcomed them inside. I do not know who was a familiar and who was not, but it's safe to say he had the place well peppered with them. Vampires like hotels. They confer a certain anonymity. You can hide there. Escape routes are plentiful.
The intimate lobby was especially inviting. He led her to a small pool of warm, incandescent light (no cold swirly florescent bulbs for this place) in a corner. Vampires prefer corners for the security they provide. She sat in a dark, green, raw silk club chair. He lowered himself into it's mate. A fine, old tall clock ticked off the hours. Their only company, a tired businessman nursed a scotch and water maybe fifteen cubits away. But he didn't care about them.
Tomas let his gaze rise up to a small reproduction...something by the nineteenth century Frenchman, known as David (dah-veed) and then he began......
I was in Taranto, or possibly Bari. Both cities faced the Mediterranean and after all these years seem very much the same to me. Papa was gone. Obviously, you know he created me during one of his 'worldly' interludes. Oh, he was quite involved with humanity back then. Well, up til then. For a turncoat vampire, or elferina, I think it was, fingered him to our enemies and they captured him..... The lead-lined box.... You know about lead and us... The deed was done... He was gone. That's how he wound up buried under the streets of Rome for more than ten hundred years. Did he have the power to get out on his own? Who knows? You've seen how crazy he is. But I was alone... completely and desperately alone. (He stares off, obviously reliving the experience). Sarah just sits and waits......
Some time later I found myself in a city. Oh, we called them 'cities' back then. Perhaps six thousand souls... a stone wall.... stout houses, also stone, for the self styled nobles of the place.... churches, churches and churches... a lane filled with open-front, market stalls and maybe a little corner for the Jews pressed 'gainst the wall. Not an actual ghetto. That came four hundred years later. But it might as well have been one.
I made my nest among my brethren, lest I lapsed into Hebrew, or Aramaic while I slept. Now please know that these were not truly Inquisitional times. But blood besotted Crusaders were everywhere and they were even worse. No trial. No imprisonment. None of that. The Jew, whether old rabbi, young wife, or toddling child was hacked to death on the spot. They almost burnt me once, so I was careful. Most of the Jews there came from the north, refugees from thieving, cut-throat bands along The Rhine. They spoke various dialects of German. I did not. 'Tedesco' my kind called them. Northern peasants... little more. But they knew I was a Jew... exotic, but a Jew. So they took me in and kept me safe. Though their rabbi saw something. He asked questions. I made up answers.... An angel.... A 'Night Watch'..... sent to keep them safe in these uncertain times. Granted, this bunch paid protection to the count and bishop of the place, but an angel's help was a rich gift indeed. And after raising the sexton's daughter from some form of pestilence with a tiny bit of my blood (I called it holy wine) my position was guaranteed.
All went well til the night I first saw Lydia. She silently collected a spider's web from off a market stall, carefully wrapping it 'round a small, broken twig. Her father was an alchemist and valued such things. My enemies were his enemies and by extension hers as well.
But I saw her eyes and she saw mine. A few moments later I kissed her deep within the darkest corner of the nearby stone arcade. Her skin smelled of bee's wax, spices and sandalwood... a true magician's daughter, for she covered me in gossamer spells and bathed my loins with gladness......
By now, even the businessman was listening... God knows what he thought.
So they left that place and headed back toward home......
////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
please tickle the SHARE BAR. help the story spread. leave a COMMENT. and rest well.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: the book of sarah
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland:... OUR VAMPIRE ENJOYS THE MANIA OF A GOOD HOT FEED... . I have fed. I'm good for another month. I told you about my mortal boyhood in o...
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: First of all, we must agree that what comes next i...
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland:~~ First of all, we must agree that what comes next is fiction. The coming of Sarah. ... 'Sarah' the name means princess , as in Sarah, the wife of Abraham...... WHEN TOMAS MET SARAH ~~~ how it all began...
VAMPIRINA BITCHES FROM THE PAST
Sarah and Tomas walked hand in hand. The late night air was crisp and chilly. Everything had the sharp, fall look that comes when the bloated heat of summer dies. They stopped to examine the posh displays at Lord and Taylor. She focused on the female mannikin, an upper-middle-class polymer bitch with neo-Sassoon, straight 'walnut' hair. How secure and complacent she looked...How oblivious. Tomas stared at the shoes worn by the male figure.... 'desert boots'... Not his favorite, even though he liked the suede.
But something about the tableau-morte touched Sarah and she said - Who were the other ones? And I don't mean the temporary indiscretions. I don't just mean the curbside 'doxies' you mush up with here, or even Luna. She's an idiot. I'm not worried about her. But there must have been others in London, or Constantinople, or Deli, or The Emerald City, or how many other 'fucking' places you've lived in.
He looked at her. She rarely spoke that way. But Tomas knew what she meant. At first he was silent. Then he exhaled. His shoulders slumped and he answered - And each was suited to her time. Are you worried they'll be there, at the Revels, I mean? I don't know about all of them, but some might show up. Yet know this. It's like that film we watched the other night. At least the title, I liked. 'That Was Then And This Is Now.'..... (He held her)...and for life-eaters, 'now' lasts a very long time, indeed.... (Sarah just stood there) .... He continued - Sarah, this is all so new to you. My God, you're still so young in human years. You'll change. You'll know. You'll grow accustomed to it. Are you so sure you'll still want me when (gestures to their surroundings) all this is no more?..... A tear decorates the lashes of her left eye. He softly brushes it away.
Sarah whispers - I want to know their names....... She chokes back a smile. He kisses her.They continue walking toward a favorite retreat, a little place, tiny really, with maybe six booths, four tables and a snug, warm, dim, well stocked bar.
The host, an urbane man with salt and pepper hair, knows them. He sets them up in the corner. Approximately one hundred and forty heartbeats later, drinks appear.... plain, though rather generous Martinis.... cold and crisp. They both pluck out the olives.
She takes a sip. Tomas takes three. After all, he's the one in need of fortification.then he squares his shoulders and begins ----- At first I lived a quiet life, alone and on my own. But one night.... just barely night; there was still a hint of purple in the sky, I stepped out from the loggia flanking a little plaza and saw her.... Not a vampirina... a mortal girl, she was...yet different... intelligent...an alchemist's daughter... She knew.... She knew very many things. Dark, she was, as though plucked from the sultan's harem. And her name was Lydia.... Quite ordinary in it's day and not very exceptional even now. But that was her name.... and I loved her...
Sarah put down her drink, reached across the table and took his hand.
They sat there for a moment and then he told her more......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
please hit the SHARE BAR. we appreciate that a lot, as we also do your COMMENTS. until we meet again...
But something about the tableau-morte touched Sarah and she said - Who were the other ones? And I don't mean the temporary indiscretions. I don't just mean the curbside 'doxies' you mush up with here, or even Luna. She's an idiot. I'm not worried about her. But there must have been others in London, or Constantinople, or Deli, or The Emerald City, or how many other 'fucking' places you've lived in.
He looked at her. She rarely spoke that way. But Tomas knew what she meant. At first he was silent. Then he exhaled. His shoulders slumped and he answered - And each was suited to her time. Are you worried they'll be there, at the Revels, I mean? I don't know about all of them, but some might show up. Yet know this. It's like that film we watched the other night. At least the title, I liked. 'That Was Then And This Is Now.'..... (He held her)...and for life-eaters, 'now' lasts a very long time, indeed.... (Sarah just stood there) .... He continued - Sarah, this is all so new to you. My God, you're still so young in human years. You'll change. You'll know. You'll grow accustomed to it. Are you so sure you'll still want me when (gestures to their surroundings) all this is no more?..... A tear decorates the lashes of her left eye. He softly brushes it away.
Sarah whispers - I want to know their names....... She chokes back a smile. He kisses her.They continue walking toward a favorite retreat, a little place, tiny really, with maybe six booths, four tables and a snug, warm, dim, well stocked bar.
The host, an urbane man with salt and pepper hair, knows them. He sets them up in the corner. Approximately one hundred and forty heartbeats later, drinks appear.... plain, though rather generous Martinis.... cold and crisp. They both pluck out the olives.
She takes a sip. Tomas takes three. After all, he's the one in need of fortification.then he squares his shoulders and begins ----- At first I lived a quiet life, alone and on my own. But one night.... just barely night; there was still a hint of purple in the sky, I stepped out from the loggia flanking a little plaza and saw her.... Not a vampirina... a mortal girl, she was...yet different... intelligent...an alchemist's daughter... She knew.... She knew very many things. Dark, she was, as though plucked from the sultan's harem. And her name was Lydia.... Quite ordinary in it's day and not very exceptional even now. But that was her name.... and I loved her...
Sarah put down her drink, reached across the table and took his hand.
They sat there for a moment and then he told her more......
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
please hit the SHARE BAR. we appreciate that a lot, as we also do your COMMENTS. until we meet again...
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
WILD SHIT FROM THE EARLY DAYS~~> Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah
You think they don't have REAL VAMPIRE DOCUMENTATION ON YOU TUBE? ~~~~~Well, in 'The Wonderland' we do ~~~> (I'm telling you. Go back and look at this stuff)... Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: The Book of Sarah: S 'me again, the, hell, I don't know what I am. I'm just here. but, yeah, call me the disembodied spirit. At least we're all used to that. O...
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