Translate

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Hello from the Silent Partner


Anyone who has been paying attention to the pages for the books may have noticed something odd. My name has been retroactively added as co-author to the earlier books. There's no attempt at deception going on. It's just that we were always a little unsure as to what kind of credit I should get for my part in the creative work.

On the first two books, I contributed book planning, world-building, character development, etc., and although Allan wanted to give me coauthor credit, I didn't feel what I had done merited that much. How does one even classify contributions like refining genre, suggesting that science fiction elements actually make paranormal stories seem more plausible and thus, scarier.

There was some baggage behind my reluctance to take credit, too. I had been the first of us to try to be a professional writer, back before there was much Internet. I wrote short stories, and magazine rates for short stories varied mostly from 1/8th to 1 cent per word. Eventually, I did the math and got angry at the world of publication and wrote from then on purely for the entertainment of myself and a few friends.

I didn't really recognize how much self-publication had grown up and become a viable option, nor how much Allan had grown as a writer, until he came out with the first finished novel. While making a commercial success was still a long shot, the fact was, he'd managed a book worth reading and he had control of the publication and marketing of it.

I still considered my contributions to be more "co-creator" than "co-author", but there's no option for that on book cover designs.


On the third book, I was suggesting some edits on a part he wasn't satisfied with, and which dealt with a character who I had created. After a few tries at telling him what to do, I asked if he'd mind me taking over the chair and writing the edit myself. He loved the result, and I ended up going through and revising multiple scenes to get them just right. This time, I couldn't refuse co-author credit, because I had indeed done a significant amount of the writing myself.

Then we started to reconsider the earlier books. I would have preferred being listed as "co-creator" rather than "co-author", but there were a number of scenes where I'd helped with dialogue, relationships, etc. I had spent a few years listening to Allan describe the development of ideas in a different way than I recalled them happening. And I came to realize that accepting a little too much credit was better than being forgotten.

So here I am, invisible to the audience no more, and in our upcoming anthology, I've contributed a few solo pieces. There will be more of those in the future, as well as my continuing to be involved in working together with Allan.


Saturday, December 30, 2017

Nathaniel's Private E-Journal, January 1st, 2005 "Reflections and Looking Forward"



I'm standing on a deck overlooking the great wide Pacific Ocean.  Another year has passed but I am not alone.  I am surrounded by members of my extended family located in Aptos, California.  Although that's not where I am at this moment.  We're standing near the famed Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk having just watched a fabulous fireworks display out on the water.

The Cloudfoots have been part of my life since 1999 when I first met Jason, the patriarch of these wonderful people.  As their name implies, they are of Native American descent, specifically they are Seneca one of the five original tribes that formed the Iroquois Confederacy.   

Together, Jason and I, along with Otto located his missing niece Julie who had run away from home just two days before Christmas.  The moment Jason and I locked eyes, I knew there was something different about him and I was right.  He was a shaman, one who knew about the Para-Earths, as Otto has named those alternate realities of this world.  Jason also knew right away I'd been to one and had come back changed, but he also knew I was still a good man and our friendship formed. 

He's here with me tonight enjoying the love and joy of his children and grandchildren.  Jason lost his wife two years ago, for which I was very sorry.  She had been a wonderful woman, warm and caring.  I'd spent that New Year's Eve with him, to make sure he did not face it alone.  Not that I had much reason to worry.  Julie and her parents were there as well.  It was the first time I'd seen her in 1999 and my how she'd grown.  From the pudgy little girl I'd help locate, she was now slightly taller than me and still growing.  She also had filled out in more ways than one, especially in the muscle department.  I feel sorry for any boy who pissed her off.  Not that she seems very interested in them.  A part of me suspects her yearnings lie elsewhere.  I just hope I never have to compete with her for a date.

Not that such a thing is likely.  I've kept to myself more since Veronica and I parted company three years ago.  I've found myself thinking about her a lot tonight.  Probably it's because of all the police officers watching over tonight's festivities.  There was one female officer in particular standing near her patrol car that caught my eye.  She looked nothing like Veronica, but the way the officer stood there reminded me so much of my red-headed love.
    

God she was amazing.  It's not often you find someone so passionate and dedicated, not only to you but to her work.  But I digress...

A new year stands before us all.  I have no idea what surprises this one will have in store for me or those I call 'family'.  But I know I will not face this new year alone which is a great comfort.  I have people like Jason, Otto, Brian, their families and so many others who's lives touch mine.  I think that's been the greatest gift of all.  Even though I have outlived so many people who I've loved, I am never truly alone.  And because I remember, none of them are ever forgotten.  

My existence is a strange one, but at least I find it serves so many others.  

Jason is proposing another toast to all so I better wrap this up.  A promising new year awaits and I for one am looking forward to seeing what it has to offer.







Friday, December 22, 2017

Lisa's Private Thoughts, December 19th, 2012 - Christmas Tree Time

Tonight we got our Christmas tree.  Some of you may may think we'd left it a bit late, but since I'm a December baby, my parents got into the habit of waiting until after my birthday to put up any Christmas decorations.  One of my mother's sisters was also a December baby who often complain about how her birthday got overshadowed by Christmas, so my parents go out of their way to make sure that did not happen with me.  Especially not this year when I turned sixteen.  

But that had been over a week ago and I was more than ready for Christmas now.  In fact, I'm thinking of telling my parents next year that we should get our tree the day after Thanksgiving.  We could just decorate it for my birthday and then redo it again for Christmas.  

You see I love the smell of pine trees and forests.  Especially in wintertime and at night.  Which is why going out to get our tree was so much fun this time.  As soon as dinner was over, Dad told us to get our coats and pile into the Suburban.  "It's tree time!" he smiled.

"More like about time," Mom muttered under her breath, while getting her coat on in record time.


Soon we were driving down a snowy lane with snow covered trees on either side of us.  There was no one else on the road, so it felt kind of spooky in some ways.  I swear, there's nothing like being surrounded by huge trees at night to make you feel really small.  Yet it was beautiful at the same time.

After a while Mom said, "Where are we going?  There aren't any tree lots out this way."

"We're getting our tree the old fashion way, straight out of the best supplier known to man.  The forest itself," Dad smiled.

"We're going to chop one down?" I cried in dismay.  

"No, Sweetie, we're going to dig one up," Dad corrected me.  "Remember, cut trees don't last very long around Uncle Nate."

Immediately, my mood skyrocketed even higher.  "He's coming this year?"

"Dear, you weren't supposed to say anything," Mom scolded.  

"She was going to find out anyway," he told her,  "See, that's him up ahead waiting for us."

I practically climbed into the front seat with them to get a better look.  Sure enough, in a clearing up ahead stood Nathan wearing a an old fashion burgundy frock coat, with a black cape over it.  While on top of his blonde head, he had a black beaver hat angled every so slightly to give him a dashing look.

By now my little brother Geoffrey, who had been sleeping the whole time woke up and started yelling, "Unca Nate... Unca Nate..." at the top of his little lungs.  If you haven't guessed, he adores our godfather.

Luckily we were able to park quickly and got him out of the car.  Since I was right next to him, I had the 'fun' of getting him out of his car-seat.  Let me tell you, trying to deal with an overexcited two-year old who won't stop squirming is an experience I won't soon forget.  Nor will my stomach where he kept kicking me without realizing it, because he wanted to get to Nathan so badly.

Thank goodness Nathan saw my plight and took Geoffrey from me.  Immediately, my baby brother calmed down and started babbling at him in a mix of words and childish gibberish.  Mom and Dad looked on with amusement while Nathan hung on my brother's every 'word' until he was finished.

"Well you certainly have had an interesting day," Nathan told him, "I look forward to having more of these talks with you over the coming days.  But for now, we need to find a good tree and we have lots to choose from."

Looking around I saw he was right.  We did have a lot of choices, but there was one slight problem.  "Kind of big aren't they?" my Mom remarked, taking Geoffrey from him.

Nathan turned to my dad the two began muttering to one another.  I managed to catch a few snippets like: "I thought you said she'd be okay with punching a holes into the ceiling and possibly the roof..."  and  "....we'd have had to cut through some of the crossbeams and..."  

I noticed Mom rolling her eyes several times before they finally finished.  

Clapping his gloved hands Dad said, "Nathan says there's some really nice trees over on the north slope just a few hundred yards from here. I just need to get the sled and pot out from the back of the car."

"Did you remember the shovels?" Mom asked, and he froze.

Immediately my father froze and winced.  "Oops."

"Dad!" I cried but Nathan intervened saying, "Don't worry, I've got it covered.  Just follow me."  and with that he started heading off towards the north slope.  

Naturally I raced to join him.  Soon the whole family was following close behind as we slowly made our way through the snowy woods.  


At one point we spotted some deer nearby, who did not seem to mind our presence at all.  They stared at us for a while, until they were sure we didn't have anything to offer them and then moved on.  Soon we emerged from the forest and into what was undoubtedly the north slope.  


All around us stood pines ranging from four feet to heaven knows, all covered in snow.  It was a beautiful sight.  I almost felt guilty for our intruding on such a festive scene.  But, we were here on a mission and I knew weren't going to leave until we located and secured our quarry.  

After a few minutes, of knocking snow off a few of the six foot trees, my parents found one they liked.  I had to agree, that their choice was a good one.  It had a lovely shape and would fit nicely in the living room.  But first we had to get it out of the ground.  

Turning to Nathan I said, "So how do you plan to get this puppy out of the ground without shovels?"

Smiling he said, "Funny you should mention the word 'puppy'."  With that he took a few steps away from me and knelt down in the snow, covering himself entirely with the black cloak.  For several seconds nothing happened.  Then there was movement under the ebony cloth and soon two large black dogs emerged from underneath the cape which fell to the ground and became flat.  


"PUPPIES!" my little brother cried excitedly.  He loves dogs, but can't play with them because he's very allergic to their fur.  A part of me quickly surmised that this would not be a problem with these two beasts.  As if to prove my point, they went over to where my mother was holding Geoffrey, and allowed him to pet them.  

Then the pair trotted over to where the tree we'd chosen stood and began digging in a circle.  Snow went flying in all directions, making the rest of us take a few steps back to keep out of range.  But soon, the dark soil began to replace the white stuff letting us know the real work had begun.  Out of curiosity I bent down and picked up a piece of the thrown soil and found it was still quite solid and frozen.  

I shook my head in wonder and marveled at the power of my godfather once more.  I've long known of his shape-shifting talents, but sometimes forget just how much strength he is capable of demonstrating.  
  


Within minutes the tree wobbled and tilted to one side.  A moment later the two dogs emerged from behind it and slipped back under the black coat from which they'd emerged.  As my father brought the sled with the big pot on it over to where the tree lay, I watched the shapes moving beneath the cape and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw hands appear and Nathan stood up.  As he adjusted his hat, I noted that there was not a speck of dirt anywhere on his hands or face.  He truly is a wonder to behold sometimes.

Anyway, he and Dad managed to lift the tree with its large ball of dirt and roots, into the big pot... or rather tub on the sleigh and quickly made sure it was a good fit.  Then we headed back to the cars and stood it upright in the back of the pickup, Nathan had brought.  In a few weeks, we'll bring it back and replant it, just as Nathan has shown us so it can continue its life among its siblings.


Now we're all back in our home, the tree is completely decorated and Dad has just lit the log in the fireplace.  Nathan is resting on the sofa with a blanket over his legs... or rather where his legs would be.  On the floor nearby, Geoffrey is playing with a couple of smaller versions of the black dogs who dug our Christmas tree out of the ground.  

Poor Nathan, he's going to be legless for a good hour or more, meaning he'll be stuck on the sofa.  I'm going to join him after I finish this post.  He's going to be staying with us all throughout the holidays this year.  Normally he heads to Connecticut to visit another part of his 'extended' family to spend Christmas Eve, but they are celebrating elsewhere this year which means he's all ours... or rather mine this time.  

Glancing over at the archway that leads to the kitchen I can see my mom and dad enjoying a good long kiss under the mistletoe.   I love seeing them like that.  It really makes the season all the more right to me.  

Love, family and friends, those are the greatest gifts to have at this time of year.  And I'm going to go get a little of the first, right now.  I've got a little bit of mistletoe in my pocket and there's a very inviting spot right next to Nathan on the sofa.


This is going to be very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year indeed....

****So ends this year's holiday installment of The Vampyre Blogs - Private Edition.  I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.  May all your hopes and wishes come true during this festive season.  And may each and everyone one of you enjoy some of the magic of this season.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE

Sunday, December 10, 2017

LISA'S "PRIVATE THOUGHTS" - OCTOBER 22ND, 2014 "Something Bad Is Coming" Part - II


While I continue to watch the land slowly being bathed by the morning’s rays, the leading edge of the light begins to touch the edge of the dairy farm and halts.  Well, not exactly.  The light continues to stretch across the land, but it does so by going AROUND a portion of the farm, in particular the barn.  It’s almost as if that area has a barrier around it, which is repelling the dawn’s rays.  
At first I shake my head, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me.  Perhaps some trees are casting a shadow over that spot, but no.  What I’m seeing is not a shadow, it’s something else, something sinister. 


As I continue to watch, the edge of sunlight slowly closes around the dark area around the barn and continues to spread across the land.  That is of course when my mind starts thinking about Timothy Spratt and what my father had told me.  At this point I’ve usually woken up.  But last night the dream kept going.
Tearing my gaze away from the ‘shadowed’ barn I begin to study the rest of the town, to see if the effect is repeated anywhere else.  To my horror, it does.  Here and there, I notice a few other ‘blemishes’ appear in other parts of the town.  But the pattern is so sporadic, there does not appear to be any rhyme or reason to their locations.  It’s as if all that lay before me was a painting and someone had flicked a brush covered in some dark translucent stain across a canvas, marring the beauty of the scene.
None of it seems to make any sense… that is until the light reaches the grounds of the church.  It’s there that I see a much more heavy concentration of dark spots, mostly around a number of headstones in the newer sections of the graveyard.  Immediately I remember the Professor, I mean Otto, telling me and Marisa that the Ghoul-Slime... or Funus Sobrere (which is latin Corpse Absorber… see I’m already learning from him) preferred bodies of the recently deceased.  
       This of course reinforces my first impression that Tim Spratt may have been one of the creature’s earliest victims, having seen the darkness around the barn.  But at the same time it doesn’t explain why I’m being shown this ‘overview’ of the town.  Are all these blemishes places where the Funus Sobrere had been?  And if so, why was there no other reports of people/animals dying or disappearing?
Then, as if in answer to my unspoken question my eyes drift, seemingly of their own volition, away from the church grounds to one of the other larger buildings in shadows.  It’s one of the medical buildings over on Clearwater Street.  Specifically, it’s the one that contains the local diagnostic lab.  I’ve had bloodwork done there and so has pretty much everyone in town.  There have been no deaths there that I can recall… then I remember the place had a break in and samples stolen…
Including ones that belonged to Marisa’s dad, which would explain how “Ghoul-Boy”… I mean the Funus Sorbrere knew about her father’s condition when it confronted us.  A chill runs through my body at the realization that the creature had actively been seeking out who would make a nice fresh corpse in the near future for it to absorb.
‘But the thing is dead,’ I tell myself in the dream.  ‘Tony… Pastor Gregory’s brother, who it had taken over, had destroyed himself and it in fire.  It’s gone, we’re all safe… right?’
By then a feeling of doom has taken hold and I look back to the rest of the town which has now been completely revealed, blemishes and all, by the morning sun.  All is quiet… almost too quiet.
Then I see the edges of each dark patch begin to move.  It’s a slow but steady movement.  Those closest to each other meet and become a larger patch and continue to spread, seemingly more rapidly because of their greater size.  In the churchyard this happens more quickly, since so many of the graves had been violated and tainted by the Funus Sorbrere. 
I’m rooted to the spot, helpless to stop the progression as the blight spreads darkening more and more of my hometown.  Then I notice the farthest edge of the encroaching shadow begins begins to reach the outer edge of Nathan’s family estate and stops.
"Of course, Nathan was able to beat it to a standstill back in the cemetery when he came to save me and Marisa," I breathe with the first rays of hope.  Then I remember he's gone to ground... "Which means he's not here to protect us," I murmur sadly.


     And that's when the nightmare really begins. 
     It's almost as if the blight heard my words, because suddenly the darkness spreads like a wildfire.  It crashes past whatever was holding it back from my godfather's estate, sweeping over it cause plants to die and trees to wither.  The manor itself begins to darken and age just before collapsing in on itself, while my hometown is swept in shadow and I hear the first screams of terror arise...
     That's when I finally woke up to find the screams were coming from my own mouth.   Naturally my parents came rushing into my room to find out what had happened, and then spent the next hour comforting me.  Both kept reassuring me that there had been no new reports of graves being violated or disappearances of people or animals.  Still, I can't help shaking the feeling that something is coming and I'm certain Nathan will be our only chance of stopping it.
      I can't tell Marisa about the dream because I know she's been anxious about her dad.  She and her Mom are waiting for the latest lab results to come back and I don't want to burden her with my worries.  I'd talk to Otto but he's out of town.  I could e-mail him, but first I want to go to Nathan's place and check on Isabella's grave, where he went to ground with her ghost, to see if there's any change.  If I don't see anything, then I'll contact Otto for sure and ask what I should do next.  
       Damn, almost time for school.  I'll wrap things up here and report back once I've been to Nathan's place this evening.  I pray this is all just my imagination but if it isn't and there's no sign of him coming back, I don't know what we'll do.

Friday, November 24, 2017

LISA’S “PRIVATE” THOUGHTS - OCTOBER 22nd, 2014 "Something Bad Is Coming" Part-I

*With the start of the holiday season, Helen and I thought it would be nice to give you all a little glimpse into some of what has been happening between the end of "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home", and the upcoming sequel "The Vampyre Blogs - Family Ties".  Those who  have read the first book were given a sneak peek into the next installment where there are is a solid two week block of anxiety where Nathan is not to be found.  Nor is there any indication of when or if he will return.
Today's story takes place during that three week period where Lisa, one of those who witnessed Nathan's departure, shares the growing sense of foreboding that has been building inside her.  Enjoy*  


It’s been two weeks since Nathan went to ground and there’s still no sign of when he may return… and I’m worried.  Not about whether or not he’s coming back, the Professor has assured both me and Marisa repeatedly that Nathan will come back to us, it’s just a question of when?  Ever since that night at the cemetery when everything went down, I’ve had a growing feeling of unease.  
I only really noticed it a couple of days after the battle, but looking back I’m certain it was already starting to gnaw at me the moment we all headed inside Nathan’s manor to tend to Marisa’s ankle.  But I didn’t dwell on it at the time because my dad arrived with Penny, who had had a bad shock earlier having seen her former pimp Tony in town.  She still doesn’t know the guy was already dead and acting as host to the ghoul slime that nearly killed me and Marisa, not that any of us plan to tell her anytime soon because that would mean possibly revealing Nathan’s secret.  
Luckily the Professor, sorry I mean Otto (he prefers Marisa and me to call him that), was on hand to smooth things over.  I always thought Nathan was a fast-talker, but he pales in comparison to Otto.  He explained to Penny that Nathan had been called away on business, leaving him in charge of overseeing further restoration of the manor in his absence. Naturally, Marisa, Richard and I all backed him up, not that we really needed to.  Otto has a disarming way about him and can be so charming that Penny seemed quite happy to have him around.


Of course, there was still the question of what happened to Marisa’s ankle. I wound up taking the lead on that one.  Nathan taught me long ago that half-truths are far more convincing and easier to remember than flat out lies.  So I told her that Marisa slipped and fell while running up the driveway to the manor when she and I were racing each other to see Nathan.  When we found out he wasn’t here, nor were Richard or Otto at that point, we called Dr. Jack who does house calls.  Which is also true, he does make house calls quite a bit even in this day and age.  Then again, we’re not a huge town so that makes things easy for him to give that personal touch.  And he did a great job on Marisa’s ankle, she’s doing much better.  At school today I could barely detect any sign of a limp as we walked to and from our classes.  Some movements still give her a twinge, but nothing serious.
And right now as I type these words, I’m feeling another twinge of anxiety.  Probably because of the recurring dream I’ve been having for the past week.  It always starts out with me was standing on one of the many hillsides that overlooks our little town of Pointer.  The sun is just rising and I can see the light spreading across the valley slowing approaching the town I’ve called home all my life.  Soon the morning rays begin touching the trees, turning the yellow leaves that still cling to their branches, a brilliant gold, while at the same time making the grass seem more vibrant and welcoming.


The rooftops seem to spring to life and glisten with morning dew and everything just seems so beautiful and alive… then that uneasy feeling that’s been haunting me  seems to awaken and grow with a terrifying vengeance.
I find my eyes are drawn to one of the dairy farms in the distance, where not too long ago a Tim Spratt was trampled to death when something spooked the family herd causing them to break out of the barn where they’d been kept.  Officially, the word is that a mountain lion or bear broke in and killed two of the animals, but I heard my father telling Otto just last night that he believes there is more to the story.  One of the deputies, who is part of Nathan’s “Extended Family” here in town was away at the time of the incident, but upon returning to work he learned the case was still quietly being investigated.
It turns out Kevin, that’s the deputy’s name, learned from his co-workers that tracks were found leading in and out of the barn.  It looked more like several animals had been on the scene, including a deer, a bear and one or two others, that would not normally be found entering a barn.  Furthermore, there had been a sickly smell that still seemed to linger in the area.  Last I heard, the family is tearing down the barn and have moved the animals to another enclosure.
Upon hearing this, my mind raced back to the cemetery where Marisa and I came under attack from creatures the Ghoul Slime had made from the bodies of dead buried there.  Each one had been a fusion of human and animal remains, which gave off a sickly unearthly smell.  I began to wonder then if Tim Spratt had been one of the Ghoul Slime’s earliest victims, which might account for what happened next in my dream…

TO BE CONTINUED...

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Brian's E-Journal - "The Soldier"

*Author's Note: For those who are new to this site, this particular entry is a repost.  I first wrote this particular story a little over 2 years ago and have never done another because I don't think I could surpass its message.  For it shares the gratitude many of us have for those who've served, along with their families who must wait with bated breath for their return which may not always be a happy one.  It reminds all of us at home that serving one's country can come at a price which should never be forgotten or taken for granted.  So to all who've worn a uniform and risked everything for all of us, to you and yours we say "Thank you, and God bless and keep you all."* 



The Soldier appeared again this year, just as he has over almost a hundred and fifty years.  The first reports of him showing up here in Pointer date back to 1868 when the first Decoration Day (now called Memorial Day) was held.  At the time most people assumed he was merely a veteran but when he moved there was no sound,  and when he spoke everyone felt compelled to listen.  It was as if an enchantment had been cast over all.  He spoke of each soldier from the town who had fallen during the war between the states, telling tales of bravery and humanity.  Then, once he finished, the figure marched back the way he came only to be swallowed by a mist that seemed to come from nowhere.


This happened again the following year, and every year after that.  At first most people just assumed him to be a magician who had served alongside those who had died.  Yet, none of those who had come home recognized the fellow.  In fact, no one could even really describe his features even if he had been standing next to them.  They could distinctly remember his uniform which had clearly belonged to the West Virginia 7th Volunteer Infantry Regiment.  He had all the bearing of a soldier, but even if they looked up into his face all they could remember was that he was young, with a kind face, which had born witness to the horrors of the battlefield.  But none of them could actually describe his face in detail.

Naturally the idea that the fellow was a ghost began to spread among the children and a handful of adults.  But after thirty years passed and those children who had seen him close up could honestly say he had not aged in that time, that others began to believe the tale.  



Throughout the decades, he has always appeared, never once missing a Decoration Day.  And with each visit, he shared new stories about those who had served and fell in the Civil War.  But it wasn't until the end of the Great War that this began to change.  In 1919, one year after World War I ended, a new monument was erected in the town square with the names of those who had left Pointer to fight overseas.  On that occasion the soldier appeared and shared several stories about those who had been lost on the battlefields of Europe.

From that day on he continued to appear on Remembrance Day (now called Veteran's Day) as well as on Memorial Day.


By this time few, if any, doubted the Soldier's existence.  In fact many began to welcome his strange visits, but not all.  Those who were too traumatized by their loss, could not bear to see him come.  In particular there had been Violet Parker, who had been engaged to James Moore who fell at the Battle of Belleau Wood in France in 1918.  When the Soldier appeared again on Remembrance Day in 1920, she rushed at him brandishing a pistol from her father's collection and shot him point blank.  The Soldier did not flinch, nor did he fall.  Instead, he gently took the weapon from her shaking hands, and  pulled her close.  She resisted at first, but then began to calm down.  Those who dared approach them could hear his voice speaking gently to her in sympathy.  Soon Violet slipped her arms around him and held him tightly.  Then she kissed him on the cheek and walked back to where her father stood.  For the rest of her long life, she was happier than anyone could remember, and strongly rebuked anyone who spoke ill of the Soldier or of anyone who served their country.

The addition of new names and stories of those who served that the Soldier spoke of continued with  each passing year.  Whether they were lost in peacetime or during America's entry into World War II, the Korean War, Vietnam, Iraq and of course Afghanistan, he made sure no one forgot them or their service.  And today was no exception.  He spoke of the town's most recent losses with such feeling, one was convinced he had personally known, or had watched each one of them grow into fine young men and women.

Of course, I and a number of others know this happens to be the truth.  There are at least a dozen families here in Pointer that know of Uncle Nate.  And they preserve his secret with fierce loyalty, just as mine does.  It is a loyalty based on love and respect.  Whether he's the 'Soldier' or just the family friend or godfather, he has been there for all of us over the decades.  Our dark guardian, the soldier who even when he does not wear the uniform, is always on duty.  Ready to defend and protect all of us and our town, just has he did the day he marched off to war at the age of 16, back in 1862.

God bless him and all the men and women who have served, and will serve.







Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Time to talk anthology...


Big news, my wife and collaborator Helen just got hired on by the county so she will be working in the same building as me and sharing the long commute.  With her being hired, we are now looking towards possibly moving again and are already doing some packing here and there. Plus she is still taking a couple of intense college courses. This leaves both of us less time to write, especially in her case.

However, the anthology was 95% finished with only 2 stories incomplete. We've decided to drop those from the release and go ahead and publish the anthology with 23 stories, six of which are brand new. We're sticking to the 12th Night of Christmas release date.

In the meantime we're looking for Beta-Readers for feedback and to spot any problems with the collection. Unlike our previous novels which weighed in at 100K words, this volume is about 60,000 words in length. If you are interested in being a Beta-Reader please let us know in the comments section below.

Saturday, October 28, 2017

A Halloween Tale From Our Upcoming Anthology

*Helen and I agreed that this particular snippet from "The Vampyre Blogs - One Day At A Time" was just perfect for this time of year.  While it does not cover the entire story, this particular section seemed just right for the holiday season.  And as with many of the tales you'll find in this collection, we start laying down the foundation for other stories down the road.  We do things like this because we want the Para-Earth Series to be open-ended.  There is no specific ending in mind, however there will eventually be closure for some of the characters, but not for a long time to come.  We're generating new ideas all the time for existing characters as well as ones you've yet to meet.  So rest assured no one is going anyplace just yet.  However, there are also untold stories form earlier years like this one.  So sit back and enjoy an adventure from Lisa and Marisa's childhood...  



HALLOWEEN FRIGHT (2007)

by Helen Krummenacker

Two giggling girls, nine years old, were getting to trick or treat on their own for the first time after solemnly swearing to their parents that they would stick together with the buddy system, not go into any houses, and stick to familiar streets. And Marissa and Lisa really meant  it, too, when they gave their word.
But once they’d gotten their sacks more than a quarter full, they were starting to feel like the main part of town was a little bit boring, even with decorations. Marissa’s mummy bandages were meeting with confused remarks by neighbors who were more familiar with hospital dramas than ancient Egypt, nor did Lisa’s top hat and cape read as Mr. Hyde as much as “Abe Lincoln, maybe?”, killing some of the fun of dressing up. Toddlers and their parents,  surrounding them on the streets,not only slowed them down with small talk, but stifled any real delightful shiver of uncertainty.
“I know a place,” said Lisa, “where there’s probably no one home, but it would be fun to explore.”
“What do you mean?” asked her best friend.
“Well, I know the owner, but he doesn’t live there. The place has been empty for years,” she told Marissa, savoring the word ‘years’, drawing it out for emphasis. “I don’t mean go in, but there’s woods and a little cemetery--”
 “I am NOT going to a cemetery on Halloween night! The place sounds creepy.”
“That’s what makes it fun!”
Marissa grinned quickly, thinking of all the spooky old films she loved. “Yeah.” She thought about it. “How about we get our bikes and go there, but we stay in sight of the road when we’re there and don’t stay too long.”
Lisa nodded. “Sounds smart. But it’s really not going to be too scary. I mean, sometimes things that seem scary at first turn out not to be.” She couldn’t really explain her Uncle Nathan, but it didn’t seem like anything associated with him could turn out bad. After all, he was a vampire… and the sweetest grown-up she knew.


Marissa was enjoying the chill of the air on her face. “It’s beautiful out here.” The moon was overhead, the trees rustled mysteriously, and the scent of pine, cedar, and birch tinged the breeze. “I thought there were a bunch of old mines on this side of town, though. It’s pretty hilly out here.”
“Yeah, I think there were some old ones.” Lisa tried to remember what Nathan had told her. “They used to have a small one on the estate we’re going to, that just took out coal to sell in town in the old days. People used it in their stoves. It closed for a while, but then it was opened during World War II by government order, for industry.”
“How do you know this stuff?”
“I told you, I know the owner. He’s a family friend, basically. And he’s the last of his family, so sometimes he gets, what’s the word… nostalgic.”
They saved their breath to pedal their way up a long uphill stretch. At the top, Lisa stopped to let Marissa catch up. She pointed, “See, you can see the house past the field. I guess they kept this area cleared.”
“Someone’s got sheep grazing there,” noted Marissa. “Sheep aren’t very scary.”
“Does that mean you want to see the cemetery?”
“No! … Maybe.” They nudged each other, shoulder to shoulder, before taking off down the hill towards the big old house that stood under the moonlight, darker patches where the pale paint had flaked off, vines growing onto the expansive porch, trees beyond with branches scant of leaves, many already lost to the aging fall.  


It began to feel quite spooky again as they drew closer to see more detail. Faded velvet curtains could be seen through dirty windows. The wind in the trees made suggestive rustling sounds. The creak of their own pedaling could be footsteps on an old, loose floorboard from the rooms above. The girls got off their bikes as they reached a grass-overgrown gravel path leading around the house and began to walk the path, pushing the bicycles by the handlebars, trying not to let the gravel crunch too much under their feet.
It’s not that I’m scared, Lisa told herself. It’s just that it doesn’t seem right to be noisy here. Like being in a library or a museum. It was a matter of respect.
Something cold and clammy touched the back of her neck and she squealed before she could think.
“What is it?!” Marissa whispered, worried.
“A drop of cold water. It fell off of the eaves.”
Indeed, the cool night air was producing condensation and the trees and overhangs slowly, almost silently, loosed accumulated moisture without sparing any thought for the nerves of passers by. “We’re being ridiculous,” Marissa said a little louder. “Thinking drops are a clammy finger or that the gravel is tiny bones crunching under our feet. It’s just an old farm no one lives in anymore.  We drive past places like this all the time.
“Not just like this,” Lisa said defensively. “There was a terrible tragedy here.” She wondered briefly about Marissa’s mention of the gravel sounding like crunching bones.  Someone was getting carried away by their imagination, and that someone was not her. “During the Civil War, you know West Virginia and Virginia were on different sides. And the Virginians were very angry about it. There was this point during the war when a mob crossed the border and they killed a lot of people here.”
“I did not want to know that.”
Lisa realized the fun was starting to go out of this for Marissa. “It’s okay. It happened so long ago. And… it’s not like ghosts are real.” There, she’d said it. It might not be a very Halloween thing to say, but she didn’t want her friend to be seriously frightened.
They stood there beside the empty old house in silence for a moment, looking at each other, wondering what they really believed about any of these things. They were not that far from home, really. There wouldn’t be anything wrong with being here for a picnic on a bright, sunny day. Maybe they were only really afraid because they were breaking the rules. Maybe they only got goosebumps because the night was a little damp and the breeze was making them cold.
Or maybe they weren’t quite sure that things didn’t go bump in the night. The breeze, which had joined them in stillness, rose up again, and a small, thin voice was carried with it. “Where is everyone?” It was a girl’s voice, sounding a little younger than they were, or perhaps she just sounded even younger because it was high with a plaintive note.
“Where is everyone?” The voice said again, with a slightly different inflection. Lisa and Marissa opened their mouths and screamed in unison. They climbed back onto their bicycles and got back onto the road. They had pedaled at least a tenth of a mile before they realized they had headed the wrong direction, still travelling away from the town. Now, beyond the house, the trees were the scraggly remains of old orchards, interspersed with volunteer trees grown wild from seeds left by birds or squirrels. Lisa signaled for Marissa to stop. 
“Are you okay?” they asked each other at the same time, then laughed a little, still nervous but feeling reassured by friendship. 

*And while the girls are catching their breath, we will leave them.  To find out what happened next I'm afraid we'll have to keep you waiting a couple of more months.  We know the holidays are coming and everyone will be busy with family, parties, etc. and so will we.  But rest assured we have more complete stories to share with you here, so please keep checking in and from both of us may you all have a very HAPPY HALLOWEEN.*   




Saturday, October 14, 2017

Nathan's Private E-Journal October 6th, 2014 "I May Have Made A Mistake..." Part - II

     Ah, how I love the crisp night air on nights like this.  I think Fall and Winter have always been my two of my favorite seasons.  Long before my change I used to love these times of year.  Something about the cooler weather just made things easier on my achy body.  Of course back then no one had heard of Fibromyalgia, you were just considered "too delicate" or "a malingerer".   But in those seasons, I just always felt more alert, more alive and still do.  Although now it may be partly the fact that since my body prefers evenings, the shorter hours of daylight probably plays a big part in things.
     In any case the cool air and the signs of autumn are helping lift my spirits tremendously. 


     The barren branches of the trees seem to reach out as if to touch the starlit night sky.  There are a few clouds but not enough to mar the view of the moon or the stars.  Halloween is not far away, I hope the evening is like this so everyone can enjoy themselves trick or treating, or going to parties.  Perhaps I should open the manor to visitors?  Nah, too soon.  Although Richard's done wonders with the place, but it's not ready for visitors.  Or maybe it's just me which is probably the case, since I'm using all this mental wandering to avoid the problem of Marisa hanging around the old locomotive, which happens to be exactly where I'm headed right now.
     How long has the old thing been there?  Even I'm not really sure.  We were a rail town long before the war started back in 1861 and trains were coming and going on such a regular basis, who'd have noticed if one engine never seemed to be moved?  I'll have to ask Louisa the next time I see them.


     I can see her outline in the darkness up ahead.  One side of her is lit up from the distant glow of a streetlamp.  She's always been impressive looking, in spite of all the rust and weathering from all the years of exposure to the elements.  She's a fixture from another time and will in all likelihood continue to stand there for many decades to come.  Especially since there is no way to move her.  She's anchored to that spot, just as I hinted to Marisa last night.  
     That probably wasn't one of my better moves, but she was so upset at the idea of the thing being haunted I had to come up with something more pleasant and intriguing.  Alas, that is part of my curse for having become a writer.  My mouth works faster than  my common sense some days.  Of course there are those who question whether I have any common sense at all, like Louisa.
     Oh the haranguing she'll give me if the carnival shows up and finds Marisa hanging around one of their 'anchors' to this world.  That woman can have the sharpest tongue on her at times.  Hell, she could put a ginsu knife to shame when she wants to.  Not that I can blame her.  Like me she's very protective of those in her carnival, and with good reason.  If anyone ever knew the true nature of any of the members of Karneval Schatten, or where they came from...  
   Wow, I'm actually shuddering at the thought.   But who could blame me?  Our first adventure together was a terrifying one.  If it hadn't been for Brandon Elliott and his great-grandson Peter, I don't know if even I could've survived the fire that night.  Thanks to them, we all got out in one piece... well almost all of us.  Brandon stayed behind to keep that white-haired creep at bay, while Peter and I got the trapped employees, along with Louisa and her troupe, to safety.   


     I tried to go back for Brandon but it was already too late.  The building had begun caving in on itself and the heat had become too intense even for me to mist through.  I felt like a failure that day, until I noticed young Peter, who was standing no more than a dozen feet away, talking to a man that everyone else seemed blissfully unaware of.  It took me a moment to recognize the figure as that of the man who had saved us all, only he was looking much younger.  I thought about going over to them, but just then the figure faded and Peter came over to me saying, "We have to get the others out of here.  There's a train about a half a mile from here we can get them them on.  But it has to be soon, otherwise the opening will close and they'll be caught again."
     I started to ask why, only Louisa's mother (also her namesake) joined us.  Having seen my abilities in action earlier, she begged me to help get those in her care back to their train.  Most were still exhausted from their imprisonment inside the depths of the factory, while others had been injured in our escape.  Having learned that many of them were, like my Sangui-Sapio half, were not from this Earth, I agreed.  Getting them to the safety of their conveyance had not been easy, but between my mist form and mind control we managed and saw them off.  That was the second time I'd seen a portal to a Para-Earth open, but the first time I saw one close.  However, it wasn't the last.
    They'd asked me to come with them before they left, but I'd declined.  I'd only recently lost Madeleine my first wife, and our son Brian (who Lisa's father is named after) was still in mourning and needed me.  So I remained behind, that time anyway.  But our paths crossed again and again, and always they'd bring me back here to this spot because it's one of their an "anchor points".  At least that's what Otto and Louisa told me once, long ago.  In spite of all my travels with both Otto and my carnival friends, there's still so much to learn about Para-Earths.  Lisa seems fascinated and would like to go with us on one of our jaunts, and one day I might take her.  But first I'll introduce her to Louisa and company the next time they come calling.  
     Whenever that will be.  I never know.  Sometimes they'll come to town and stay a few days, while other times they'll just show up in the middle of the night looking for me because my talents are needed.  They always seem to know where to find me, not that I mind.  I have many friends aboard that train.  I'm just not sure about Marisa encountering them unexpectedly.  
     The Crypt will be open tomorrow night and I know the girls will be showing up, so I'll talk to them then.  If worse comes to worse and Marisa insists on visiting the engine, I'll make sure I'm on hand just in case the carnival suddenly decides to come to town at the wrong moment.  

*And so ends this untold tale.  We hope you enjoyed this latest installment and that it piques your interest to learn more about the strange traveling carnival who will make their first full appearance in our upcoming anthology "The Vampyre Blogs - One Day At A Time".  

And For those who have read the "The Vampyre Blogs - Coming Home" this entry takes place the night before Marisa and Lisa are taken up to Nathan's art studio, after Marisa's little fight with another girl.  It in the studio that Marisa's first suspicions about Nathan's true nature form because of a dropped compact. 

Until next time, happy reading dear friends.*