The Vampire’s Wife’s Rant

So you think it’s cool to be a vampire? You’d like this living forever thing? Let me tell you, vampire is not so hot. I mean it’s cold if you want to know the truth. Always cold. Think about it. The man sucked my blood out. All of it. Blood is what keeps you warm. I’m cold. Even in summer I’m freezing my tush. I’d go out in the hot sun, but what would happen? I'd disintegrate, that’s what. And tan lines? Forget tan lines and nice complexion. A ghost has more color than a vampire.

And don’t even get me started on hair. You ever have a bad hair day? We’re talking Night of the Living Dead Hair day here. I’m dead, you know what I mean? The vampire sucked my blood out 723 years ago this coming July. Couldn’t even wait for school to start. No, he has to kill me in the middle of summer break. At the shore. In my medieval bikini. Yeah, we had bikinis back then. The kind with the special locks so you know you couldn’t mess around so much. But hey, we made out okay until that vampire hit town. Geez, I’m telling you.

Speaking of hair and complexion, think about checking yourself in the mirror. I mean, give me a freaking break. A girl’s gotta look, but what does she see? Nothing. Nada. No image. Not even your old dead face or a skeleton nor nothing.

So why does he make a girl a vampire? He wants a wife, he says. Someone he can love forever. You want to live forever? Join a church. Look, he sucks my blood out and then expects me to look good. You ever see a blonde with no blood? Not a pretty site, let me tell you. Dead looks gray and ashen. Your eyes don’t look so good rolled back in your head. Your boobies don’t have any lift. They just kinda lay there.

Dead. I’m dead. Every day I’m dead. I haven’t seen the sun for 723 years I’m so dead. So at night I come to life. Life? Give me a break. We’re talking undead here. Live forever? Walk around maybe, but alive? Alive means you can feel. You ever try to feel with dead fingers? You know what it’s like to have a long dead cold probe stuck in your you-know-where from an undead guy who thinks he’s hot but all he is is long dead? Cold dead. Dead, dead, dead. The only way he fills the thing up with blood is to go suck it out of somebody else. Now he’s doing me with someone else’s blood holding him up. You call that manhood? Give me a break. By the time he gets it going, it’s long cold and dead. Like screwing a bolt. Okay, a big bolt, but still a cold steel bolt.

Okay, I got off track there for a minute, but give me a break. How do you love a guy who sucked your blood out so he could get it on with somebody else? Anyway, I’m dead. He’s dead. And we’re stuck here. You think he murdered me for my looks? He says he did, but my looks aren’t so hot, you may have noticed. A little makeup maybe I’m not so so bad. I go from the look of a morgue babe to OD’d hooker with a little makeup but that’s as good as it gets. But he likes it. Okay, a lot of makeup. And it would be nice to check the old makeup job once in a while with a mirror. But no. Mirrors don’t work. I mentioned that, right?

He only took me because he wanted my body. Now, I’m his love slave. Hate slave is more like it. I mean, really. He never tries to carry on an intelligent conversation. It’s all about blood and sucking. It’s all he ever is interested in. Like I’m dead. Doesn’t he get it? I’m not exactly interested in messing around with him. Rigor mortis, despite everything you read about it, doesn’t make you horny.

To him, I’m just a love object. He just wants my body. Why he wanted it so cold is beyond me. But what do I  know? To him, I’m just another brainless zombie vampire wife. But I’m not a zombie. I’m a vampire who wishes someone would stake out her heart. I mean a little rest would be nice at night, you know what I mean? Every night it’s making with the bouncing springs and then the blood lust. Geez, if I never suck another person dry again, I’d be a happy camper. I mean, look at me. Do I appear like the kind of girl you’d ask out on a date? I mean, maybe like 700 years ago, but today? Take a gander at my teeth for crying out loud. Check out these ugly fangs. Can’t hardly talk straight with these things hanging out.

And no mirrors. Did I mentions the mirrors? And when you’re dead 700 years, don’t try to run a brush through your hair. I mean come on. If I find one more fly larvae in my hair, I’m going to scream. But let me tell you about mirrors…

…Will you shut up down there already.

Sorry, dear. Didn’t know you could hear. I was just talking to my supper.

You are staying for dinner, aren’t you?

For your reading consideration

My novels 
Have you ever run into evil incarnate in your local coffee shop? Or combine latte with lust? It happens to Micah Probert in Hags.

Did you ever wonder what Satan was up to while God was going about the business of sending Jesus to save the world? Find out in Fulfillment.

My Short Stories
Love may be just a  kiss away, but what if the kiss is packed with... well, Little Miss Forgotten is a short story so I better let you find out for yourself. Sorry Rick and Ilsa, but the fundamental rules don't always apply as time goes by.

You've known people who just fly off at the smallest things, right? Find out what set Egbert loose in this short story. What lurks in the darkness of Lower Wacker Drive?

Angel Thorns is a short story about a little girl caught up in an evil takeover of an isolated small town. Will that handsome young man who just rode in on a hog be able to help her? Horror with overtones of spiritual warfare.

Visit my Amazon author page by clicking here.

Here’s another novel idea…
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