AUSTRALIAN 'DREAM TIME' COMES TO THE VAMPIRINOS AND VAMPIRINAS OF PHILADELPHIA

All that you see is but impulse, sparks and illusion.What we perceive as matter is an accommodation wrought by the Hand of God, or the Higgs Boson particle, as contemporary alchemists (presently known as scientists) call it. Dreams made manifest..... that's what we have. Someone has apparently 'wished' upon that star... and we are the result. 

But the dream continues. And a group of rather unusual 'night-folk' comes to recognize that. 

Edith stared at the painting. She picked the spot. Sarah didn't care, so it hung over the cunning, little Louis XV buffet in the dining room. How nice it looked up against the watered silk walls... so  vivid next to the coppery, bronze glow. The vampirinos and vampirinas never used dining rooms to feed. Occasionally they'd sit around the table (wherever they lived) sharing precious drams of liquor and trading tales of the old days. 

Tomas studied the colorful creation... a night garden, in a city park, shimmering after a sudden rain. He could almost smell the blossoms. Edith, their telepathic and somewhat witchified  mortal friend and housekeeper said it just showed up. Annie asked - Did it go BOOM and just pop out a the air?...... The juvenile, vampirina demon had been reading 'bout Father Devine, the ostensibly human, legendary, early twentieth century, Philadelphia preacher, hotelier and miracle worker who according to his own recollections, did go BOOM and 'combusted' fully formed upon a crowded, midtown sidewalk. (in her heart, the little life-eater was sure he must have been a vampire. yet he was known to be unquestionably diurnal, so she wasn't exactly sure.)

Edith said it did not go BOOM, but was delivered by a rather personable U.P.S. man. She offered him a piece of cake, banana nut, her specialty. But he only wanted an iced tea, 'cause he was training for a half marathon or something. Conrad thought he heard a little bit of this while he was sleeping. Tomas just smiled. Most newborn vampires fall into a death-like stupor when the sun shines (or even when it's cloudy, for that matter.) Conrad wouldn't have laid so much as a fart, even if a fully naked, ax wielding  Abraham Lincoln himself was standing over him..... Conrad feared vampire killers, 'cause he used to be one. 

Now the painting came from Australia. Brisbane, to be exact. The artist, a young, transplanted Englishster, named Debby made it. Sarah looked her up on TWITTER. She doesn't need wilkravitz. She's new too. The web ain't no big thing to her. And  she found Debby at @Twit__Trending, even followed her. You want to see the painting? Go there. You'll see it, or a reasonable facsimile there of. They say the artist has other ones. Sells them too. I hear a bunch of collectors out in Malibu got some. But theirs ain't 'magic' like ours.

Tomas stares and he stares. Sarah says - Can you see it?..... He nods. Two individuals with an uncanny resemblance to himself and his consort (Sarah, that is) hold hands and retreat from the camera, which in this case is the eye of the artist. And it's not just the physical similarity. The funny thing is they actually move. The male pulls her close. The female leans into him. Tiny ripples play across a nearby puddle, perhaps from a soft, warm breeze. 

I do not know if the artist is adept at such things, or if a subtle enchantment descended upon the painting after the fact. But how like a dream it is. Baylah's coming in from Margate just to see it. And you know how much she likes her time at the shore.

Edith had a brain buzz. That means she 'felt something.' Saw a bunch of white haired, brown folks sitting 'round a fire, all alone, out under The Milky Way, on the vast Nullarbor Plain. Funny how that name stuck in her head, especially since she ain't never heard it before. Sarah said she saw an article 'bout the place once in a National Geographic. Edith said - Well, where the hell is it?...... Sarah said - Australia........ And Annie started to laugh. 

Night-folk soak up magic like a sponge. It sticks to them like semi-dried-up sweat. Tomas knows that. He's seen a lot. Papa knows more, a whole lot more. But he's still quiet. He just sits and looks and sits and looks..... Annie says she's gonna bite his leg real hard, or like maybe throw hot water all over his balls. Edith says no seven or eight year old girl should talk like that, even if she is a vampire. Annie tells her to go to hell. Sarah says she better shut up, or they gonna throw her best, antique Barbies down the garbage disposal. So Annie sets down by the island in the kitchen. Flips open a coloring book and starts scribbling all over one a the pages. But you know she gonna do something, 'cause that page got Wilma Flintstone and she never scribbles all over her.

Now I am just a ghost what lives down the cellar, but that picture, beautiful as it is, give me the shimmy-shams too.... Can't take my dead, nebulous eyes off it.

Somebody workin' a hoo-doo. Edith knows that word. She from the Jersey Pines. She knows.

And now they got two dogs howlin' somewheres outside. Conrad say he know 'em from before. 

Tomas say maybe nobody ought a go out. They just look at each other. Edith lights a new aroma candle. Then they all sit down to watch a movie..... How The West Was Won, I think it is....

Tomas like Debbie Reynolds. He say she real good.....

Howlin' gettin' louder...

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VAMPIRE LIFE IS QUITE LIKE YOURS

Those of you familiar with our milieu know vampires do not effect a kill very often. Most of the 'noble' breed feed but once every lunar cycle. Tiny supplemental drinks do occur....discreet, little kisses taken on the run. Crowded subway trains work best. You know how they sway? you know how the lights flicker? Well, that's all it takes. And most times the wounds go unnoticed. 

But they weren't riding subway trains tonight. Tomas and Sarah were out for a stroll. The air was warm and heavy, a typical summer in Philadelphia, just south of the fortieth parallel. How refreshing it was to sit down at a sidewalk cafe, order a tumbler filled with some sort of iced, carriage trade vodka and indulge. Alcohol seems to agree with them, you know. 

Sarah still had human taste. She'd only been on the night side for two years, so her attire was just what you'd expect.... a short cotton skirt, a pressed, white camisole, strappy, little sandals and cool, silver earrings. So right for a twenty eight year old young woman in Center City. Even her auburn hair was swept up in a neat, clean, high off the neck, pony tail. Her mother would have been proud. 

Tomas wore a blindingly white tee shirt. You know the kind...just thick enough to absorb the thin sheen of vampirino sweat thrown off from his torso, but trim around the neck, chest and biceps. You see it coming and going on South Street. Below the waist he had black jeans and rough, leather flip-flops. His signature bootkins could wait for cooler climes. 

Sarah wanted a spray on tan. She said pasty, white feet look bad in sandals. Tomas said he'd have a 'familiar' look into it. But I don't think he will. 

Such a striking twosome.... the beautiful, young aunt and her well put together, wavy haired nephew. She offered him a rubber band. A pony tail would be cooler. Though he demurred, preferring the look of his long, dark tresses. Tomas de Macabea is so vain, you know. I think he wants to sneak away for a sponge bath down in the deepest tunnels with his wide-eyed, mole-girl sex friends. But I am always suspicious of him. Sarah too, although he claims those randy nights are over.

The vodka arrives. I do not know the brand. They charge twelve dollars for it, so it must be good, or at least highly promoted. He takes a sip, savoring the crisp, icy drops as they run down his throat. Then he goes - ahhh.  Sarah does not like when he does that. He tells her it's an Andalician thing. And then he smiles. She likes when he smiles. He softy  flicks a tiny moth off from the lace atop her camisole. But being a vampirina, she is so sensitive to touch. And she likes when he does that too.

They study a sweet girl, perhaps twenty to twenty five years old at a nearby table. She sits reading a book and toying with the remnants of her salad. Tomas whispers - Tis pity she is alone........ Sarah gives him a look. He kisses her. She leans back, drawing in some vodka through a long, thin blood red straw........ A car pulls up to the curb. The girl sees it. She beams, puts a twenty under the plate and jumps inside. The vehicle (an Audi. I am almost sure) snakes out into traffic and speeds off.

Sarah sees the book...... What was she reading? - she says........ Tomas executes a barely noticeable gesture and the volume snaps through the air to his hand. He can do that, sometimes....... CRITICAL MOMENTS, book II of THE HYBRID SERIES - he says. Then he passes it to her. She studies the back..... Hummm, vampire tinged detectives solve gruesome crimes in dark, little British corners..... Quite erotic too..... Such talented 'vampires,' or almost vampires - she remarks. I'm gonna give this to Edith............... Let me see it- he says. She turns it over. He thumbs through a page or two..... apparently finding just the right spot...... O, Jala!- he exclaims. Edith can wait. Care for a little role playing, enamorada? 

She shrugs and chuckles. They pay and leave. But three hundred heartbeats later, he sublimates into a shuttered bookshop for 'book one.'  Vampires are very open to new things you know. And soon they'll play some games. 

So goes the nightly paseo. No one died, at least not by their hands. And all they had to drink was vodka.

Maybe tomorrow they'd draw blood? Or maybe they'd tantalize some willing mortal with games learned from the book?

Such a handsome couple. The air seems to kiss them as they pass.

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and as you know, we just pretend that this is fiction. the book in question is very real. follow @AndrewHarding4 on TWITTER, also at http://AHardingBooks.com .... you'll see..... THE HYBRID SERIES .... go look on amazon. good night.

YOUR BODY IS WONDERLAND.... the vampirino and vampirina rediscover each other

It was quiet in the subterranean bower... no traffic sounds.... no air conditioner noise. Just two completely bare, supernatural beings, the cool, dark, silence and the rose petals. God knows how the 'familiars' did this. Must of had someone down here stripping blossoms for hours..... A deep, soft, fragrant nest. 

He held her close and whispered in her ear. The words were in old Vahmpeerigo, or possibly just classical Castillian. Sarah didn't know. But that wasn't important, for she did not have to know.... She could feel. And he ran his hands down her body. She quivered. He pulled in closer, artfully preparing her for more.   Then she turned to face him and returned the favor, savoring the taste of his salty flesh. 

And in that special moment before the rapture they coupled..... a vampirino and his protege..... a sire and his offspring...... Did you know that Sarah  came from his human line? ..... One thousand years lay between them, but the link was there just the same..... A union like few others..... A pleasure rare and strong. 

He inhaled, breathing in the vapors of her pliant, smooth, young body. The night had been her world for but two years. Her youth was real youth and he relished it. 

They moved as one, sharing such sensations as only their kind can.

And when she trembled... and when he trembled, they lay quiet in the blackness trading nibbles, like hungry puppies waiting to be fed.

Soon they played again.

The others slept upstairs in snug, little jewel-box quarters, with teak wood, handmade shutters to block out all the light. 

Edith sat in the kitchen eating pancakes. A painting had just been delivered, all the way from Brisbane. Sarah saw it  one night on the internet, back when they were still with Doctor Franklin. A cool, damp stroll through a flower-filled, Australian, night garden. wilkravitz (the familiar responsible for posting most of this) communicated with the artist, one @Twit__Trending (on TWITTER), but other eyes and other ears were privy to it all...and so the gift arrived. 

Perhaps at dusk the 'boys' would help her hang it? Sarah could chose the spot.

Edith chuckled and wondered if the artist, all the way around the globe, on the continent of Australia, knew her work would grace the walls of 'night-folk.'

Remember.... we only pretend that this is fiction...

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SO LONG to DOCTOR FRANKLIN

They knew the vampire-oligarch was indisposed. They could feel it in the ether. Doctor Franklin sensed it too, but based on other means. After all, the venerable patriot, though enduring for centuries, is not in any way what might be termed a magical being. He is a scientist. Perhaps one of the first post alchemists in the world.

So all parties concerned decided that it was safe for the life-eaters (vampires) to depart. Annie said she'd miss playing  with the Sasquatch, or Big Foot, or whatever he was in the menagerie. She liked fixing up his hair, especially when she made it all like Elvis. 

Tomas regretted leaving the library. He'd sit transfixed for hours absorbing old tomes carefully maintained in the climate controlled chambers. A few of them were even penned in Ancient Vahmpeerigo (vampire dialect). One, written by the daughter of a lesser wife in Solomon's harem intrigued him. She knew so much.....And she spoke of the 'Lady Renate.' He said as much to 'Papa,' for she is his mother, in the vampiric sense. But Papa is in a quiet phase. He sits and he hears, but he does not always listen. Though he smiles and chuckles at old reruns of The Beverly Hillbillies....... Go figure. 

Sarah liked the merfolk. As you know, the old one, the sea hag, went back to join her brethren in a little known estuary somewhere near the Sea Isles off the coast of Carolina. Two others came to take her place, a male and a female. Very sleek and exceedingly comely. Sarah loved to watch them feed each other scallops. So sensual. So quiet. So loving. It was dim and cool and nice in there. She'd linger, under the surface, listening to them sing. Vampires breath from habit, you know and not from any need.

Soon after, they gathered up their belongings (Doctor Franklin presented each with a fresh, new, Philadelphia Eagles, sweatsuit. You know how much he enjoys the game. Occasionally he even joins the owner in a super-box, but that's another story.) snaked through the bright, white, sterile passageways, rode up in a completely silent 'magneto' elevator and exited via a small, nondescript structure. Then they entered a van (quite commodious) and left the navy yard, returning to the dense, fragrant streets of the city they loved. The driver asked if they wanted to return to their shelters in the basement of The Penn Museum on Thirty Forth Street. So that's where they went. Annie couldn't wait to kiss the mummies. and their spirits were quite fond of her in their own judgmental, desiccated way.

Now I am not sure who went with them. The 'old bones' was there. Conrad was too. Baylah might have gone off to join her mortal mate. She is so independent, you know.

I do know they left after forty eight hours. A certain savy 'familiar,' a lawyer with extensive knowledge of the local real estate market, arranged for a snug, secure  townhouse, tucked away on an almost invisible little street bearing the same paving stones since the seventeenth century. It even had a ghost. 

Edith, their mortal, Jersey Pines, 'pow-wow' woman, was there when they arrived. And she opened the door to greet them...

Aroma candles (vampires are hopelessly addicted to 'crisp, green apple) threw soft, amber light upon fine, polished hardwood surfaces. The clocks were wound and the air was cooled to sixty two degrees, just the way they liked it....

Oh! One more thing. Tomas shared chambers with Sarah once again. There was a special place for them down below the cellar..... a deep, quiet, cold stone bower (approximately 8ft x 8ft x 8ft) lined with a thick, soft, perfumed bed of velvety rose petals..... If Martha Stewart were a vampire, she'd heartily approve.....

They removed their garments and burrowed in, safe below a carefully balanced, concrete lid. It looked just like a floor.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you more. 

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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: A 'Question and Answer' Session with Miraculous Be...

THIS FIRST POSTED ON APRIL 6, 2012, initiating an 'arc' that ran for a few weeks. ROLAND PROVIDES THE INTRO, BUT THE LADY MARIANNE TAKES US THROUGH THE EXQUISITELY PAINFUL TIME OF HER BEGINNINGS....JOIN THEM AS THEY CHAIR A COZY, LITTLE SYMPOSIUM IN A SNUG, PHILADELPHIA, SOCIETY HILL, PETIT PALACE. TICKETS WENT FOR $10,000 A POP (proceeds going to charity).... AFTER ALL, HOW OFTEN DO THESE AMATEURS GET TO MEET SOME REAL BLOOD SUCKERS? .... (so follow the story...scroll down a few episodes and explore)... Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: A 'Question and Answer' Session with Miraculous Be...: Roland studied the humans seated about him. How simple and facile they all were. How bovine. How easy to lead. Their clothes were all of a '...

A DIVINE TET-A-TET and a 'MAN' becomes a LAP DOG

I do not know how she achieves these things, but she can do them. Remember, this one is more than just a vampirina. So Madam Shang used her copious abilities to pluck the Russian, life-eater, bad-boy from off the fragrant, winding thoroughfares of the Nepalese capital and put him down in a warm, dark, moist safe place. 

For one heartbeat later, he found himself lying exposed and prone upon the rough, giant (to him, anyway) taste buds of her wet, red tongue.  Now imagine how that must feel, both sensual, yet terrifying. If she swallows he burns. The vampire body is a complete simulation of the mortal form. They have what you have... and more. But then she laughed... and the airy vibrations were wonderful, though the repeated collisions with her hard palate were a little bit difficult to endure. She sensed that and deftly spit him out upon her palm. 

What form of corruption vexes me?- she said. I must remember to flay the palace nutcrackers, for this is not a betel nut........ More than mere vampires ingest whatever they please, don't you know. And Madam Shang was partial to betel nuts, hotdogs, primarily of the kosher variety and anchovies.

The exposed and vulnerable little mannikin quickly jumped up to address her...... Why am I so tortured, oh Porcelain One? Am I anything but respectful and devoted?............. Yes - she said. That much is true, but I noticed you failed to mention 'successful.' ......... And he knew just what she meant. His plot.... his furtive plan to subvert 'western' power via lethal, germ-filled kisses dispensed among certain worthies at an upper crust Hamptons soiree fell flat. Another vampire foiled him, sharing little, blood-filled smooches with those so effected. And so the microbes died. 

Who was that noble 'Pimpernel'?..... Who could tell?....... But Madam Shang, sadly disappointed at the outcome of her plan, punished him. The little (and quite powerful in his own right) Russian, night demon 'crackled' into the shape of a Chinese, Crested, Hairless, which she gave to a functionary, who passed him on to the juvenile yetis. How rough they played. Such loathsome, hairy beasts. His hips and nether parts were already sore beyond endurance. And in 'Madam's' world the torture would go on. 

Yet cultivated demi-godlings are fickle things. And three heartbeats later she called to the palace meat-roasters, commanding them to prepare her favorite dish. How savory. How succulent and sweet. Baby mammoth, stuffed with trussed-up, fetal humans..... How toothsome and satisfying. Tonight she would have two. 

And a desperate trumpeting rose up from the mammoth stables, as a careful selection was made. 

The humans, on the other hand, kept in another enclosure, just moaned.

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O. G. Tomes: No Harm to Charm listed in August 2012 issue of..

O. G. Tomes: No Harm to Charm listed in August 2012 issue of..: "Supporting Authors One Read At A Time" As a wonderful book of the Month for August 2012 in the magazine: Yesterday was Great!  To...