Fiction that explores the monsters and strangers among us.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Evil Incarnate at Your Local Coffee Shop

Ted Wilson had no intention of kissing a vampire hag full on the lips when he entered the coffee shop earlier than usual yesterday morning. With the local Twilight Coffee Shoppe operating a 24-hour Latte and Leave service, Ted knew he could caffeinate on the 50-minute drive down the Reagan to the Eisenhower to the Loop. Fifty minutes if you left before the morning rush which explained his stop at the Twilight Coffee Shoppe.

When the tall, extremely pale barista asked if he wanted the usual, Ted moaned yes, but when he opened the plastic top to pour in a little almond-flavored imitation creamer, he did not expect to see a blood-red brew.

“What’s this?” he inquired.

The barista flashed a toothy grin before announcing, “Oops, that one’s mine.”

Ted snagged the correct brew cup and slid his debit card through the machine. He headed for the door without the almond-flavored imitation creamer.

“Wait,” said the barista. “Please allow me to apologize profusely for the error. Entirely my fault.”

Ted, who by this time had a hand on the front door, spun about. “No problem.” He didn’t see the barista so he shrugged. When he turned to leave, he bumped into her.

“When I say apologizes profusely, darling, I mean profusely.” The barista planted her ample lips firmly over Ted’s.

Ted was not one to mind a pair of warm female lips connected to his own, but they must be warm. The barista’s lips were as cold as Italian sausage yanked from the refrigerator, not that Ted ever kissed a cold Italian sausage. He preferred his meat hot, juicy and well done, but that’s another story for a different sort of blog than this one.

When the barista pulled back from the kiss, Ted noticed her fangs. It’s hard to miss a pair of three-inch upper incisors on a woman whose beauty is in the range of oh… let’s say Morticia Addams.

“What the…” Ted began to say before he was interrupted by the insertion of the barista’s incisors into his jugular vein.

As I said, that was yesterday morning before sunrise. This evening, Ted returned to the Latte and Leave.

“Usual?” the tall, pale barista asked.

“Yes, the usual,” replied Ted.

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