The New Interview with a Vampire Part One


A short music beat played and the host began, “Today, we have a special guest. She is the commander of the space mission to,” she glanced down at a note card in her hand, “Kepler 186, the oldest person to command a space mission, and a vampire. Let’s hear a round of applause for Monica.”

The show’s theme played as I walked out. I waved to the audience and took a seat opposite the host. “Hello, Grenda. I’m happy to be here,” I said.

“Space mission blah blah blah. What can you tell me about being a vampire?”

I laughed. They always wanted to know about being a vampire. “Well, it’s pretty much like being a regular human except I drink blood instead of eating and barring any accidents, I’m probably going to live a very long time.”

“How long are we talking about? Three hundred years, four?” the host asked with a grin.

“I’m five hundred and fifty-six years old.”

“Five hundred and fifty-six. You don’t look a day over twenty-five.” She winked at me.

“I was thirty-one when I was turned into a vampire so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You were born in what year?”

“I was born in 1980 and turned into a vampire in 2011.”

“Did you have a master or sire or something?”

“I …” I didn’t normally talk about my early days but this might be the last chance I would have to talk about them.

“It’s alright if you want to skip the question,” the host said softly leaning closer.

“No, it’s alright. I didn’t have a master or anything. I was an accident left to fend for myself. The early days of a new vampire are confusing and quite bloody if they don’t have someone to guide them.”

“Did you ever kill anyone?”

“Yes, a few people before I learned to feed before the hunger became too great to control. If a new vampire feeds regularly there is no reason for them to kill but I didn’t know that. My birth or creation or whatever you want to call it wasn’t planned. It was violent and terrifying.

“I was at a beach party with some friends. There was a guy there. I was drunk and having a good time and I let him lead me to a dark private part of the beach. It was fun at first with the kissing and touching then he pushed me onto my back. He pinned my hands to the ground leaned close and said, “Don’t struggle and it’ll be over soon.” I felt a sharp pain in my side.”

“He didn’t bite your neck?”

“Biting the neck was almost strictly a movie thing at the time. Most vampires preferred to use a knife to make a cut and suck on it. It was cleaner, healed easier, and didn’t leave dental impressions. This vampire used a box cutter. I don’t know how many people he had fed on using this technique but apparently, none had fought back as hard I did. Vampires are stronger than normal humans but we don’t have super strength.

“I was fighting for my life and managed to get a hand free. I reached around me for a weapon but could only find sand so I threw sand in his face. He screamed, let me go, and I managed to get up and start running back to the party. I got several feet before he grabbed me and threw me to the ground. This time when my hand searched the ground for something, anything I could use as a weapon, I found a rock. He sat on me, screaming about what a bitch I was and tried grabbing my hands again.”

“No one heard him screaming?”

“We had walked far down the beach to get away from the party, the very noisy party. So, no they didn’t hear him or me screaming. I swung the rock at his head and hit him. I hit him a couple more times before he stopped trying to grab for my hands, wrapped both hands around my neck, and squeezed. The last thing I saw before everything went black was his bloody face. I woke up the next morning with a monster headache.”

“And you were now a vampire?”


“Didn’t the sun burn you?”

“No, our weakness to sunlight accumulates as we age. For the first decade, a vampire doesn’t have to be any more careful about the sun than most people. It varies from vampire to vampire of course. Around a hundred years direct sunlight will start to burn us after a few minutes and by two hundred you can’t even stand indirect sunlight.

“So, I woke up on the beach thinking I had been attacked and choked until I passed out. That’s not what happened. I had died that night and woken up a vampire. That’s how you make a vampire. You kill a person and give them some of your blood, either orally or by injection. It’s harder than it sounds. Wait too long and nothing happens. Do it before they’re dead and nothing happens. And you don’t know until the next morning when they either wake up or not.

“I was an accident. Killed by a vampire that was bleeding from a head wound. Vampires can bleed and just like humans head wounds bleed a lot. I won’t bore you with the next ten years of my life as a lonely vampire until I managed to meet another vampire and was welcomed into the larger vampire community.

“We’ll come back to that after the commercial break.” The theme music played and the lights dimmed to let us know we were off the air.


I’m Falling


I’m falling. I think. Not in the metaphorical sense like my life is going down hill or my depression is consuming me. I think I’m actually falling. Sometimes I feel like I should be flying but I’m not. Most of the time there is just this tiny bit of dread deep inside. No it’s not my depression that’s more of a general heaviness about everything. This is more specific.
I’m falling. This isn’t the real world. I’m dreaming or hallucinating or delusional. I’ve been falling for a long time I think. Maybe. Did I actually experience twenty-seven years of life or do I just remember experiencing those years. I’ve either been falling for a long time or I just started falling. I’m not sure which is better.

This world feels real. I have a job. I have an apartment and roommate. I have a cat. I pay bills and buy groceries. I keep living this life because I don’t know what else to do. But I think somewhere, I am falling. I need to catch myself or land on a soft spot. I need to fly. I need to soar back up into the sky. I need to face whatever knocked me down. I need to save the people depending on me.

But I’m falling.

Gillian Reviews Dreadnought by April Daniels


Dreadnought by April Daniels is awesome. It’s about a trans girl superhero and it’s written by a trans woman.

The first chapter and a few others made me cry; it hits on a lot of things I felt as a closeted trans teenager.  April Daniels does not pull any punches about what it would be like to live with an abusive transphobic father. I didn’t have to deal with that myself because I came out a little later in life but some things still ring true. Like the way he says “son” and “boy” when we meetup. The quiet wishing that he would just accept me for who I am.

The superhero part of the story is funny and action packed but also real about how messed up being a superhero would be. It reminds me somewhat of “Soon I Will Be Invincible” by Austin Grossman on that front.

It’s a good book that hit me hard in the emotions. Be warned that it doesn’t shy away from the trauma trans girls live with.  Goddess, I want this to be a movie just to hear Danielle’s last line said out loud, “I’m transgender, and a lesbian, and I’m not ashamed of that.”

The sequel just came out today so I have another book to read right now.  Both books are available on Amazon in paperback and kindle formats.

Rating: 5/5

Found in a Time Capsule

If you are reading this, you have possession of the Book as well.



You may have heard of the Necronomicon, Satan’s Bible, or the Black Codex. They are all pretenders to what the Book really is. If I had a choice in the matter, I would have burned the book and myself to rid the world of the knowledge recorded within it. However, there is a purpose to the book.

Let me tell you how the Book came to me. I worked for a company specializing in selling old and rare books. Part of our clientele were people who had inherited a book collection from an older relative and wanted to sell it off. We would appraise the books and either offer a conservative lump sum for everything or act as a broker to sell the books individually. I was nearly through cataloging this particular collection, when I found the Book. It was wrapped in paper tied with string. On the paper was a warning not to open or read until a certain date. A date well into the future. I had a job to do and a bit of paper and string wasn’t going to stop me.

The Book was … is, as you can see, rather unassuming. The cover is cloth bound, blue, worn in places but still sturdy. The pages are thick, coarse cut paper. I opened it and saw the black, delicate, sharp calligraphy unfaded by time, just as you will (heaven protect you because you must read it, I’m sorry). I started reading and reading and reading well past where I wished to stop but I was compelled to finish. When I was done, I knew things no one should know. I am so sorry that I must inflict this on another person. Just reading the Book I knew had cost me my soul. I am tainted by the book. Its forbidden knowledge craves a vessel. It promises power, control, eternal life at the low, low cost of ten easy payments of a human soul. Yours will be the first but not the last. You have to find other investors who will find more. It’s hell’s own ponzi scheme. I resisted but that is not enough to save my soul. I will be damned when judgment day comes.

There are other concerns to worry about before that happens. A conjunction of two planes of existence is coming. Something will be unleashed on our world that will end life as we know. Neither heaven nor hell alone have the power. The Book is an unspeakable fusion of knowledge from both; bound by heavenly cloth, inked with hell’s own ash. With the knowledge it contains all of creation can be protected but at the cost of –

I can not know if you are a good person, I can only hope that you will put the fate of our world above your own. The longer you have the Book the more you will be tempted to use its knowledge. I could not trust myself. So, I placed it beyond my grasp, in a time capsule sealed in concrete for a hundred years.

If you found this letter alone, not wrapped around the Book, then I have a different mission for you. Find the Book. The fate of the world depends on it.

The New Fable of Ant and Cricket

Once upon a time there was an Ant and a Cricket:

In the spring, after the harsh winter,
Ant worked hard to clean out her burrow.
Cricket, meanwhile, practiced her chirp.

In the summer when food was plentiful,
Ant toiled day after day to stock pile food
While Cricket and her friends preformed symphonies everyday

In the fall, as winter began to loom,
Ant finished her preparations for the winter.
Cricket stopped playing as food became hard to find.

As winter began, Cricket came to Ant and asked,
“Can you spare anything for me?”
Ant said, “Of course! Come in, come in.”

“Your music lifted my spirits after the harsh winter
“During the long summer days, it made my work light
“The fall was dull and lifeless without your playing.
“Please, come in and stay the winter.”

Ant turns now to the reader just before her door closes
“And even if she wasn’t a musician, I would invite her in
“Because no one deserves to die from lack of resources.”

Ant and Cricket spent a lovely winter together.

Dragon’s Hoard – Deer’s Hide 4

<<Previous | Index |

“And why would we do that?” Olga asked.

“You can take as much gold as you can carry if we succeed.”

“How do we even know if any of this is true?” Brent asked. Jasper reached into a pocket and pulled out a coin. He dropped it on the table between the three.

“Look at that and tell me what you notice.”

“It’s just a gold coin,” Brent said.

Annie leaned forward to give the coin a closer inspection. “The eyes are not scratched out,” she said. She picked it up. “And it isn’t worn smooth.”

“Exactly. It’s a coin of the Empire but unlike most coins from that time, the Emperor’s eyes haven’t been scratched out as many people did around the time of the Empire’s fall as a sign of rebellion. Also, it’s in almost new condition because it hasn’t been handled in over a thousand years.”

Brent extended his hand for the coin and Annie passed it to him. After he had looked at it for a minute, Olga offered her hand and the coin was passed to her. She looked at it for a bit and set it back on the table.

“How exactly did you find this Dragon’s Hoard?” she asked.

Jasper sat down and lean forward onto the table. “I was part of an exploratory mission of historians that went into the Dragon Mountains. We weren’t looking for the Dragon’s Hoard. The cave looked like any other cave with a few skeletons and weapons from the era of the last emperor. Deeper in we found a maze of traps, all inactive. Of course, it took us weeks to verify that it was safe to wander through the maze. Eventually, we found the vault doors. They were locked but one of our group was familiar with locks from that era and was able to open it. Inside were stacks of barrels and bags filling a huge carved out cavern. Along one wall were shelves of sealed scrolls. We opened a barrel and found it full of gold coins.

“A bandit group stumbled upon our camp. I was in the maze when I heard shouting from outside. I made it to the opening section just in time to see the last bodyguard killed. Most of the other historians were cowering on the ground but a couple had been cut down in the initial rush. Then the bandits began searching the camp and wagons.

“We had moved a couple of barrels and several scrolls to the smallest wagon to send back to the Historical Society. Luckily in their first quick search, they did not open the barrels. I was going to hide in the cave until full dark, activate the maze traps, try to escape silently on the small wagon, and get help from the Society. That was the plan I came up with and immediately had to scrap when one of the bandits started walking into the cave. I retreated further back into the cave to the maze entrance. There was no way I could let them have the Hoard.”

“Of course not, gold makes misers of us all,” Brent said.

“Never mind the gold. The scrolls represent hundreds of documents from the time of the Empire. Even if they’re nothing more than tax records, they will be invaluable in advancing our understanding of the Empire. I couldn’t let them have it so I activated the maze traps. There were a series of thumps and rumblings as the ancient counterweight system engaged. This is likely what drew the bandit deeper into the cave. I turned to see him holding a mace in one hand and a lightstone in the other. I don’t remember exactly what happened next. I charged him and we struggled on the ground. Then he stopped moving. When I got up, I saw a dagger in his neck and blood on my hands.

“I ran from the cave, jumped on the small wagon, and drove it away from the camp as fast as the horses could run. A couple of bandits tried to chase me down but my lead was just enough to keep them from catching me before they gave up. I made it to Franhal and sent word to the Society about the Dragon’s Hoard and the bandit attack and the others I had been forced to leave behind. They replied with instructions to return with the barrels and scrolls I had escaped with and they would decide what to do about the bandits. No mention of the those that had survived the attack. No mention of a rescue attempt. Just, come back now.

“I could not just leave my friends to die. So, I used some of the gold to finance this operation. I’ve had spies watching the bandit camp so I know they are still there along with a few of my friends. Others I paid to find fighters that I could trust. Regular mercenaries might be tempted to betray me and take the Dragon’s Hoard for themselves. All of you can be motivated by money or other rewards but you are all trustworthy and loyal. That more than anything else is what I needed.

“And you think we won’t double cross you once we get to the gold because we’re loyal?” Brent asked.

“You might but I’ve already promised you as much gold as you can carry. You could take a wagon full of gold and barely put a dent in the Hoard. So, why would you double cross me, for more gold than you could ever use?”

“Well when you put it that way, I guess not.”

“So, are you in?”

“For a wagon full of gold? Yes,” he said with a grin.

“Great. What about the rest of you?” Jasper asked.

“It has been a number of years since I went on an adventure so sure I’m in and I’ll only take half a wagon of gold,” Olga said.

“Deal. And you Annie?”

“Yes, I’m in for what you offered me before and the other half of her wagon if she doesn’t mind sharing the space.”

“Of course not deary,” Olga said patting Annie’s arm.

“Now that we have that all squared away, I bought us some rooms upstairs. Tomorrow we leave for Franhal to get outfitted for the fight and the journey.”

<<Previous | Index |

Pruning History

I entered my apartment and dropped my bag on the sofa on my way through the living room. Hands grabbed my arms and pulled me backward. Two people shimmered out of thin air holding onto my arms. They were dressed in shiny black jumpsuits with face-covering black featureless helmets. They pushed me back to the sofa until I was seated, arms outstretched pinned against it. Another person shimmered into view by my bookshelf. They pointed what looked like a supermarket price gun at a photo. A flash of light came from the end of the “price gun” and it emitted a series of beeps.

One of the people holding me down asked, “Is this the one?” Their voice was distorted into a buzz that barely sounded human.

“I’ve got an eighty-five percent match from the pictures,” the one with the price gun said their voice also distorted. They walked to stand in front of me and pointed her price gun at me. It flashed and beeped. “There it is. Ninety-nine percent. It’s them.”

“You’ve got the wrong person. I haven’t done anything.” I tried to pull free but they held me firmly in place.

“No, you haven’t but your great great great grandson will.” They sounded apologetic. “It’s not really his fault either. Just an accident. An accident that we hope to avert.”

“What accident? My great great what? I’m not even married.”

“Not yet. Your descendant will cause an accident that will result in half the world dying. We have traveled back in time to ensure he never exists.”

“Why not travel back to just before the accident?” I asked.

The person on my left spoke, “Our time machine has a minimum travel distance of one hundred and seventy years. This was the closest we could get to the event.

“How do you know this will stop the accident? What if someone else causes it?”

The person on my right said, “We have to try.”

“You can’t just hold me responsible for his mistake. I’m only like one-sixteenth of his DNA.”

The one standing said, “One thirty-second actually and you aren’t the first we’ve dealt with. We are pruning his family line from history. It’s not what any of us want. It’s not your fault. We aren’t holding you responsible.”

“But you’re going to kill me anyway.”

“Kill you? Who said we’re going to kill you?”

“Then what are you going to do?”

They pulled a small white device from a pocket. “This is universal birth control. Once injected a person can not become pregnant or impregnate anyone else until they receive a reversal dose which won’t be invented for another fifty years.” They pressed the end of the device against my arm. It hissed and I felt a light stinging. “There it’s done. You can let go.” The two people holding me down released me. As they stepped back, they shimmered away.

“Now what? I asked rubbing my arm.

“There are still a few more people we have to visit,” the remaining person said.

“Then you’re going back to the future?”

“No. This was a one-way trip. After our mission is over, we’ll pay for the crimes we committed against you and the rest with our lives. We’re doing what we have to do to save the world but we aren’t the heroes of this story.” They touched their wrist and shimmered into nothingness.

“Love and Comets” and Other Stories Ebook


My first collection of stories from my website is available on my Gumroad Store for the low price of $1.99.  It contains forty stories I published on my website in 2016.  Stories include:

  • “Love and Comets” – a slice of life space adventure featuring a trans woman
  • “What’s the Last Thing You remember?” – Just a normal story about a woman having her memories uploading into a clone after her death
  • “Our Ghosts” – a poem about space and ghost stories
  • “Watchtower at the End of the World” – post-apocaliptic fantasy story about a small group of people surviving
  • “How Long is Forever?” – a poem about an immortal pondering her life
  • “Hidden Trees” – a surreal story about hidden spaces
  • “The Day is Hot” – a story about an encounter I had on a hot day
  • and many more…

The first twenty five people who use the code “firstbuyers” get it free.

Dragon’s Hoard – Deer’s Hide 3

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Brent the greatest archer south of the Fire Mountains. Brent the fastest blade in two nations. Brent the beggar, sat watching the latest person to join the table. She looked like a matronly older woman but she moved like a tiger.

He had arrived at the Deer’s Hide Tavern still playing the role of the dirty beggar. With the money from Jasper’s coin purse, he could have bought new clothes, paid someone to shave and tidy his hair, and arrived on horseback. Instead, he had only bought new boots. After scuffing the boots up, wrapping them in rags, secreting the rest of the coins on his person, he set out through back roads to Berdla. He still didn’t trust Jasper and at worst he could return to begging on the street if this didn’t work out.

Jasper, the woman from the ally, another man, and an orgeslayer had arrived before him. He had hoped to sit back and listen to the others talk but the young woman, Cassie, didn’t seem to speak and neither did her friend Santiago. They conversed with their hands through motions and gestures. The Orgeslayer had been even less talkative forcing him to attempt to engage her in conversation. In the end, he had learned little more than he already knew.

The last person to join their party looked like a matronly older woman but moved like a tiger. At first sight, he had pegged her as an investor or backer of Jasper’s endeavor, whatever it might be. While her clothes were nothing special, replacing an eye with a golden socket and jade stone had to have cost plenty of coin. Watching her nearly decapitate the poor barmaid changed his mind about her. Another fighter for a group that already had himself and an orgeslayer.

Once their last member had arrived, Jasper had excused himself from the table, promising to be right back. Evening came and went with no word from him. With midnight approaching and the tavern crowd thinning, Brent began to wonder if this meeting was some sort of trap. There were several people who would pay for his head. Annie and Olga seemed more than capable of overpowering him if it came to that. Were they waiting for the tavern to empty out for the night? Time to disrupt their plans.

Brent raised a hand in front of Cassie’s face and began snapping his fingers. “Hey, sweetheart how much longer do we have to wait?” Santiago shot his hand out grabbing Brent’s hand. Brent let him.

“Don’t do that. If you need to talk to her I can translate. Understand?”

Brent jerked his hand free. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Ask her how much longer.”

Santiago signed to Cassie and she signed back. “He’ll be back soon,” he said.

“Soon, soon. He said he’d been back soon now you’re saying soon. Y’all have a funny sense of soon.” He raised his voice steadily until he was almost ranting.

Cassie signed back her motions sharp and curt. “Then go. Nothing is stopping you,” Santiago said in a restrained voice.

“Ok, I will.” He stood up shoving his chair back with his legs. Brent headed for the front door tying his cloth sack around his body. If there was a trap he hadn’t sprung it and he was leaving before it could be. Halfway to the front door, it opened and Jasper entered.

He walked to Brent, placed a guiding hand on his shoulder and said, “Leaving so soon? Some last minute business kept me but I am back now and ready to fill all of you in on why I’ve asked you here.” Jasper gently led Brent back toward the table while he talked. “So, would you take your seat and we’ll get started.” Brent shuffled around the table and sat down. Jasper retook his place at the head of the table.

“First some introductions. I am Jasper Dalton, historian and currently the leader of this team.” He gestured to Cassie and Santiago. “This is Cassie, master artificer, and Santiago, her partner and translator.” He turned to the side. “Olga, former mercenary, currently a tavern owner.”

“And head cook,” Olga interjected.

“Yes, and at the end of the table, Annie, former Orgeslayer, currently …”

“Farmhand. Just the one,” she said waving with her only hand.

“Ha, farm hand. And Brent, former bandit, currently unemployed.”

“You can just say beggar. I don’t have a reputation to protect,” he grumbled.

“Right, Cassie and Santiago have already signed on and know all that I’m about to tell you.” Jasper took a deep breath. “Have any of you heard of the Dragon’s Hoard?” He paused to look around the table.

“You mean like in stories when dragons make nests of gold and gems?” Annie asked.

“Dear, you do know those are just stories, right? Dragons never hoarded gold,” Olga asked Jasper.

“Yes. I know those are just stories. I’m talking about THE Dragon’s Hoard. Before the fall of the last empire, the last emperor had several vaults for the Empire’s wealth created. Most were beyond the mountains that separated the capital lands from our own but one was in the Dragon Mountain range. After the trade passes were collapsed, it was lost. Over the centuries it became a legend, then a folk story, and then it mostly faded from common knowledge.” He paused locking eyes with Olga, Annie, and Brent in turn. “I know where it is and there is more gold than all six of together could spend in our lifetimes. Right now, it is under the control of a group of bandits but they can’t get inside. I need your to help me retake the Dragon’s Hoard.”

<<Previous | Index | Next>>

History Lesson

Deep within a mountain, a woman in ornate armor stood on a platform eye level with the resting dragon.

“So, do I have your support?” she shouted to him.

“Hmm, I need to consider my involvement in these matters.” The dragon slowly closes his eyes. “Come back in a few years and I will have an answer for you.”

“I don’t want to pressure you but the Dark Lord is massing his forces to the north right now. The Southern Nation is threatening to ‘occupy’ our nation to prevent the war from reaching their borders. And my term as Leader ends next year. Time is running out.”

The dragon’s eyes opened wide, “Wow, you really left all this for the last minute didn’t you. Not that it really matters.” He turned his head to gaze off to the side. “When you’ve been alive for … for … Pardon, but what year is it?” The dragon re-affixed his gaze on the woman.

“It’s the five hundredth and twenty-eighth year of the Enlightenment” the Leader shouted.

“I … don’t … know what that is. What happened to the Emperor?”

“Which one?”


“Which one?”

“There was more than one?” The dragon raised up his body.

“Yes, there was a succession of fifteen Emperor Alfreds before the calamity that split the Empire into the nations of today,” she informed the dragon.

“How long ago was that?” he asked shaking the dust from his wings.

“The Calamity was three thousand two hundred and five years ago. The Empire, as established under Emperor Alfred the First, stood for three thousand six hundred and forty-three years,” the Leader explained.

“Ah, so as I was saying – When you’ve been alive for thirty-three thousand years these squabbles you humans have between each other don’t really amount to much in the long term.”

“So you won’t help us?” she shouted.

“Hmm, it has been a while since I engaged an army. Does the Dark Lord have any dragons of his own?”


“Very well you can count on my support.”