Guest blog by fictional vampire baby behind "bars"

By Gaius Julius Rex

 

Greetings humans, fellow supernatural beings and Mr. Coyote,

The human blogger, Lucianne Poole, asked me to guest blog for her for the rest of the summer. It's not clear why she needs time off, except for the usual feeble human excuse of summer vacation.

My unforseen incarceration

I was going to write something earlier but I have been "jailed".

This is due to a misunderstanding of the nature of Independence Day (aka Fourth of July) celebrations, specifically the "firework" displays in my neighbourhood of Fort Lauderdale. I was unfamiliar with the sounds of destruction that accompany this holiday. I mistook screams of delight for those of terror.

Unfortunately, these sounds triggered a instinctive reaction in me that was unforeseen by my foster parents and Nate, the human with whom I was playing Monopoly at that specific time.

My new babysitter/jailer

Since then, my foster mother, Theodora Rex (aka T. Rex) banned me from playing Monopoly and has engaged a fictional sitter called Madame Defarge. She speaks only French (no, not even Latin or ancient Greek), knits incessantly and cackles at inappropriate times (such as when I complete a New York Times crossword puzzle: my new hobby).

Mme Defarge also trims my talons, I mean finger nails, too short so they no longer make interesting clicky sounds. Her only redeeming quality is that she lets my cat, Gengis Khan, relieve himself on my parents priceless Persian carpet.

Life behind bars

T. Rex has sent me for baby massage therapy to calm my "murderous impulses". I strenuously resist but Mme Defarge has an iron grip like T. Rex. She pummels me with such sledge hammer-like force that I am reluctantly lulled to sleep.

In effect, she has become my jailer, so I thought I would use this blog to start a petition to free me (There are currently no websites for fictional petitions).

Please leave your name in the comment below and also indicate if you are interested in playing a fictional game of Monopoly when I am declared no longer "life-threatening".

This is the end of my blog.

Guest blog by a fictional vampire baby

By Gaius Julius Rex

I wear a cape made by my foster mother, Theodora Rex.

My name is Gaius Julius Rex and this is my first blog ever. (I taught myself to read and write shortly after my fictional birth in April.) (I am not lying.)

I had intended to provide a treatise on the early Greek roots of rhetoric, but the human blogger Lucianne Poole insisted on something short and journalistic. I am unfamiliar with this style of writing, having started my education with the classics. The human has proposed a "question and answer" format. I have reluctantly agreed and hereby present a series of questions and answers:

1) Do you sleep like the undead?
Yes.

2) What part of a chocolate Easter bunny do you eat first?
The head.

3) Do you fly?
No.

4) Do you drink blood?
My lawyer has advised me not to answer this question.

5) What do you do for fun?
When I'm not playing Monopoly and trampolining, I ride up and down Las Olas Boulevard (in my hometown of Fort Lauderdale) on my tricycle looking for Monopoly players and professional trampoliners. My foster mother, aka Theodora Rex, aka T. Rex, says this is unsavoury. I asked her what "unsavoury" meant. She said sleazy. I asked her what "sleazy" meant, but she did not reply.

6) What do you want to be when you grow up?
a) professional Monopoly player
b) the first to trampoline to the moon (this means building a special trampoline to catapult me into space)

This is the end of my blog.

The human, Lucianne Poole, advised me to invite comments and questions, but I'm not sure how this works or if I really want to do this.

Vampire baby speaks

By Lucianne Poole


Suitable vampire baby sleeping arrangements.

"I'd like to set the record straight," declared vampire baby in his first wide-ranging interview, which he would only grant on the condition that I, who gave him fictional life, play a game of Monopoly (U.K. version) with him.

The newborn became a local cause célèbre after being found on a Fort Lauderdale beach following a Vampire spring break.

A regular bouncing baby

"I mean, I'm no different to any other kid," confided the six-week-old who looks more like a four-year-old. "I eat, sleep, speak several languages and trampoline with world champions. I don't know why reporters are lined up at my foster parents' door," he complained while gnawing on the custom-made marble game pieces.

The name game

"Apart from the ridiculous name I've been given, I'm perfectly normal. But seriously, who calls their son Gaius Julius?"

Vampire baby paused to swig from a bottle containing an unidentified red fluid, and then asked me what I thought of the name Jay.

Meet the parents

"Don't get me wrong. My foster parents, Tiny [Justinian Rex] and T. Rex [Theodora Rex], have been great. They even sent home to the family crypt in Italy for my very own child-sized sarcophagus. I have to say, though, T. Rex has this crazy grip like a WWE wrestler."

Trouble in paradise

The interview took a slight downturn when I bought up the two most expensive Monopoly properties. Gaius Julius' face turned a violent shade of purple and his eyes took on a murderous light.

He pounced, razor-sharp teeth bared. Fortunately, a long-fingered elegant hand clamped around his throat before he could reach me.

"Nap time!" trilled Theodora.

Neither of us argued with her.


Any questions for vampire baby? Leave them here. He is mildly curious about humans and may condescend to answer them (or not). I apologise in advance for his bad manners.

Vampire spring break: the baby

By Lucianne Poole

The inevitable happened.

Just as I predicted, a holiday romance flourished and died while my fictional characters were on spring break. A beautiful, albeit monster, baby was born and abandoned on the beach by its flighty parents.

Fortunately, a childless retired couple fostered the vampire baby. The kindly Italians, who retired a few years ago to Fort Lauderdale, persuaded the community that they could manage the baby's voracious needs (authorities were reluctant to link a number of animal corpses on the beach to the baby's presence).

The foster parents are Justinian and Theodora Rex (affectionately known as Tiny and T. Rex). They are partial to mosaics and mini golf. Tiny is on the local hospital's board of directors, while T. Rex runs a few children's charities.

On a happy note, the baby (after a single month of gestation) is now learning Mandarin and Arabic (he thrives on challenge) and is taking trampolining classes (he likes to bounce).

Feel free to leave any advice to the adoptive parents of a vampire baby.

Meanwhile, future postings will be rather randomly scheduled (eg. once per month perhaps) due to the self-appointed monitoring involved in fictional fosterings. Thanks for your understanding. 

Vampire spring break

By Lucianne Poole




See if you can spot an ancient Egyptian on the beach in Rimini, Italy, one of Europe's most famous seasides. By L. Poole.

It's almost that time of year again: spring break.

I wasn't planning to but I've generously succumbed to my characters' demands for a spring break. Apparently, vampires and ancient Egyptians get the winter blahs, too.

Assuming I will have to resolve any trouble (such as centuries-old feuds and holiday romances) they get into, I anticipate being off-line for a while.

So, thanks for reading my humble offerings, and I should materialize back here sometime in April.

Where do you (or the monsters in your life) go for spring break?

11 signs that your colleague is a vampire

By Lucianne Poole

In keeping with my vampire book, The Shadow Service (a tale of vampires working in Canada's federal government), I'm providing a public service (you're welcome) by sharing these signs that you may be working with a vampire:



1. Over-enthusiasm about office skating parties or other events in which bloodshed may be likely.
2. Unusual habits such as hanging upside down in storage closets.
3. General dislike of Middle Eastern food and any other cuisine containing copious amounts of garlic.
4. Compulsive use of breath mints to hide bad breath.
5. Preference for archaic swear words, possibly in dead languages eg. "Thou knave!" or "God's wounds!"
6. Empty blood packs in the kitchen garbage.
7. High number of absentee staff (i.e. they're too weak or too dead from having their blood sucked).
8. Multiple invitations for a "bite to eat".
9. Glazed expression and salivation at close proximity when you wake up from your post-lunch nap.
10. Use of telepathic communication instead of email (this also explains your mysterious headaches).
11. Long incisors, which may or may not be hidden by expensive dental work.

Disclaimer: If your suspected colleague only meets one of the above criteria, it's unlikely he/she is undead. However, if your colleague meets all the above criteria, that's a different story (good luck).

Why do you suspect your co-worker of being a vampire? Feel free to share suspicious traits.

The Shadow Service

By Lucianne Poole



Photo credit: Little-vampire-by-Ceskino

Here's an updated excerpt from the vampire novel I've been tinkering with. Thanks to Sherry Soule for her valuable feedback and also to the participants of K.T. Crowley's January Test Run. 

In this scene, we meet the protagonist, a well-behaved vampire who works for the Government of Canada.

 

They have sent another one. Antonio glanced at the warning from the deputy minister and absent-mindedly shredded the note with his pale fingers.

He sighed and dropped the feathery strips of paper into his waste paper basket. A sliver of paper remained speared upon a long, talon-like fingernail. Antonio made a mental note to pare his nails before he went out for the night.

It was only 10 a.m., but you would never know it. The windowless office was cast in perpetual gloom. The weak light from the solitary desk lamp and soft glow of his computer screen provided enough light to reveal walls as bare as a monk’s cell. It would seem old habits were hard to break. Except for the framed photo on his bookcase, the Persian carpet blanketing the floor was his only concession to adornment. In fact, the rug proved quite useful; it hid the green carpeting that spread across government office floors like creeping mold.

Antonio scanned the staff meeting agenda on the desk before him. He straightened his tie and smoothed back his hair. With the grace of an athlete, he rose from his desk and stretched his limbs luxuriously.

It was time to meet his latest adversary.

What do you think of this rewrite? Fangs, in advance, for the comments.