“The Cannibal Killer” – Part II: Nathan’s Private E-Journal June 17th, 2016

*Note to self: I’m not the only one living in this big old house!* 

      I really need to pay attention to what’s going on around me when I’m on my computer, because I never know who’s going to come by and start reading over my shoulder.  Today, it was practically EVERYBODY!  Sigh…

     Now let me set the scene for you all.  Ever since I started writing I got into the habit of using two monitors at once, so I can have something I’m researching on one screen, while I’m writing on the other.  Tonight, I was reading an e-mail from my “nephew” Michael Rhodes about a case he’s involved with on one screen, while looking over the newspaper accounts on the other.

    I was so absorbed in what I was reading that I never heard Penny, Lisa, or Marisa come into the room.  In fact I only realized they were there after I suddenly leaned back  and felt my head bump into Marisa’s chest (not that she minded).

    After realizing I had an audience, I quickly looked around the room to make sure one person in particular had not seen what I had been reading.

     As if reading my thoughts Penny said, “Isabella’s downstairs with Richard.”

    Immediately I breathed a sigh of relief and then scowled at the intruders.  “And what brings all three of you into my study?  For all you know, I could’ve been working on a new bestseller… or surfing the internet for porn.”

     “Which was why we came in,” Marisa answered simply. pointed out.

   “If you were searching for porn we felt it was important to know what turns you on and what doesn’t,”  Lisa added helpfully.

  “I just came in to see if you wanted something to drink,” was Penny’s contribution to the proceedings.  But she looked troubled.

    Standing up I started to ask Marisa and Lisa to leave us, but Penny cut in sharply saying, “NO!  They need to hear this!”

    I don’t know who was more surprised by her tone, our companions or me.  In either case, both girls sat down while I drew closer to Penny who I noticed was shaking slightly.  As she looked at me I gave her a reassuring smile and said quietly, “Start whenever you’re ready.”

   She gave me a little smile but instead of talking she wandered over to one of the windows in my study and stared out into the night.

     After several moments she said, “All the victims of that psycho you were reading up on were women.”

       It was more a statement than a question, still I replied, “Yes, they were.”

    She nodded, then asked, “Did you girls know prostitutes are the most likely to be victims of violence or even murdered?”

      Lisa looked uncomfortable, but Marisa actually answered.  “Yes, I did a report on violence against women for a class.  Got a good grade on it, plus a lecture from the teacher for touching on a ‘sensitive’ subject.”

     “Was the instructor male?” Penny asked.

     “Yeah, he was.”

     Penny turned.  “And what did you say?”

    “I reminded him that he’d asked us to pick a social issue that needed addressing and that I’d felt that violence against women was one I felt strongly about.  Then he asked why I’d focused on prostitutes and I told him that many of them had wound up in that situation because they’d been victimized already and needed more protection not less.  After that, things got a little heated, and he wound up lowering my grade to a C.”

    I made a mental note to myself to ask Marisa the name of her instructor, but only later.  But right now I wanted to keep my focus on what Penny had to say.

    She gave Marisa a fleeting smile of gratitude, but then her expression turned serious again.  “You’re right, we… they do.  And sometimes we found it with guys who wanted to ‘protect’ us and help us out.  Only they could be just as bad, or worse than some of our clients.”

     “Like Tony?” Lisa murmured, breaking her silence.

     Penny shot her a look, but it quickly softened.  “Yeah, like my old employer.  But he only got mean when one of us tried to leave.  As long as we were under his roof, we WERE protected.  Which was why I felt safer being in a brothel than I did out on the street.  Anyone got too rough with us they’d be sorry…  But the only way any of us left his employ was when he felt they weren’t worth keeping around anymore.  Or he’d grown tired of them.”

    “Richard must’ve been very special for you to risk all that you did to get away,” I remarked, thinking aloud.

     That earned me a smile.  “He was… and not just because he got me a knocked up.  I could’ve easily gotten an abortion, but I wanted my baby and him.  And I would’ve lost both if it hadn’t been for you and Lisa.”

     “It was mostly Nathan,” my favorite goddaughter pointed out.

    “You were there for us too,” Penny replied softly, and then turned back to me.  “But the point I’m trying to make is that girls in my trade, we lived our lives knowing something bad could and would happen to us.  But the girls in those articles… they were just like these two,” here she gestured at Lisa and Marisa who were looking a little pale right about then.  “They weren’t hooking, they were just women who had families and friends who loved them.  One or two of them had children… they weren’t looking for trouble but it found them and it cost them.  But not before they suffered.”

     Glancing back at the article that was still on my screen, my eyes went straight to the part where it described some of what had been done to the girl before she died and murmured, “I know…”

     Penny caught the tone in my voice and said, “I know this Michael guy has already asked you to help stop this guy, but now I’m asking you as well.  Use your abilities to stop this guy, don’t let another girl suffer at his hands.”

     “Oh I intend to,” I assured her and began to use my shape-shifting skills.

     Normally, I don’t let anyone see one of my transformations, unless I’m turning into mist.  But most of the time I’m usually changing into something more “bestial”.  However this wasn’t one of those occasions.  First my waist pulled in while my hips expanded slightly.  At the same time the hair on my arms vanished while the skin took on a smoother look.  As my hair lengthened, my chest expanded, while my jawline softened and my nose took on a more aquiline shape.

    Once I was done, I gazed expectantly at my audience and said, “Well?  Do I make a tempting target?”

      Lisa, who I noticed was looking a little flushed, was the first to answer, “A little too tempting.”

     “Too male fantasy?” I asked.

     “Too Hollywood,” answered Marisa. who was also eyeing me curiously.

    “But it’s a good start,” Penny smiled and turned to the girls.  “Why don’t you two get some clothes and make-up for our girl here.  Then we’ll give her some tips to get the proper effect.”

     As soon as the girls left, Penny looked at me and said, “You know, if you hadn’t changed form, one of them would’ve offered to act as bait.”

     I nodded, “I was also afraid you might as well.”

     “I was,” she admitted and then threw her arms around me saying, “Thank you.”

    As I returned the gesture, I silently prayed for all our sakes (including Michael and Terri’s) that I would be enough to be the maniac’s next target.

Lisa’s Private Thoughts October 12th, 2011 “Vintage Clothing, Nathan, and Burlesque”

Uncle Nathan is the coolest guy ever!  

Back when we’d been in Europe, he’d promised to take me to some places that had vintage clothing and today he did just that.  It was a raining today, so we didn’t have to worry about the sun bothering him as we drove around.  At the first place we stopped I found this really nice-looking old bustle skirt in black that fit just perfect.  Unfortunately, it was a little out of my price range, but not Nathan’s.  He bought it for me.  

“It looked perfect on you,” he explained.  “And I would know, I spent a lot of time looking at women from the front, from behind, all around in fact.”

I gently slugged him on the arm for that one and called him a pervert to which he replied, “Excuse me, I did work in theater for a coupled of decades doing a lot of different jobs, including helping with people’s outfits.  I had to make sure they looked right before they went on stage.”

“Sure, you did,” I teased back.

“Right, that does it,” he announced and took me to a theater that was running a burlesque show.

Now before anyone freaks out, the show wasn’t going to be on until later.  So the only people there were a couple of the girls who were rehearsing and the troupe’s leader, a woman named Olivia.  Much to my surprise when she spotted Nathan her face lit up and she came running over to give him a big hug crying, “Uncle Nate!  Oh, how I’ve missed you.  Hey, everyone Nate’s here!”

I swear one of these days I’m going to find out exactly how many people are part of his ‘extended family’ besides mine.  Back in Europe there were quite a few, but now I’m beginning to think that the the actual numbers are much larger.  

In this case it made sense.  Apparently a number of friends and cousins were in charge of this burlesque troupe.  I don’t think all of them know his real secret as a couple of the people mentioned how unusual it was to see him in the day.  “You usually only come around at night when we have a show going,” one mentioned.

Uncle Nate merely waggled his eyebrows and said, “Well, you have to admit the sites around here are much more interesting at night.”

While everyone burst out laughing, I was given the grand tour backstage while Nathan was giving people a hand here and there with the backstage equipment and event he costumes.  Apparently he was telling the truth as several of the girls asked for his opinion and help with some of their outfits.  I think a few were trying to flirt, but mostly they did want his advice and help.

It was interesting to see all the inner workings of a theater backstage.  I’d never been behind the scenes before, so this was a real treat for me.  

Plus I got to see inside one of the dressing rooms where they kept all the clothing and make-up.   One of the things they all stressed to me was although I wanted to go for an authentic look I should also keep in mind, be able to move and breathe.  

“We don’t just get out there and start stripping, we’re dancing,” one girl told me.  “We do splits and a lot of other acrobatics.  And some of us are wearing corsets and those can be constricting so if you’re not careful you could make your life really miserable.  So choose items that allow movement and fabrics that breathe and you’ll be okay.”

I thought this was great advice, because the theater teacher at my high school has been complimenting me on my outfits lately.  She says I have an eye for style and authentic looks and has been hinting I should maybe join her class.  I told her I’d think about it and now I really am.  This could be a great experience for me and open up some doors down the road.  I may do it since I have more time to myself these days.  Marisa is still being distant, but at least now I know what’s going on.  Her dad is fighting cancer and she’s spending as much time with him as possible in case things go bad.   

I’d love to be there for her, but my parents say I should respect her wishes to be with her family more, so I’m giving her her space.  I’m still going to try and be there for her as much as possible, especially at school.  But I’m going to do as my parents say and giver her her space.  I just hope things go well so we can start hanging together again.  I really miss her.

Lisa’s Private Thoughts – Nov. 26, 2009 – Thanksgiving With Uncle Nathan

*A quick note from Allan: My sincerest apologies for not doing more on the stories these past few months. I’ve been busy with learning and creating audiobooks, as well as doing book covers, reviews, and book trailers for Helen and others. However, you will be pleased to hear that Nathan’s books are among those being turned into audios as I write. One or two short stories will be appearing here soon in audio form so you can get a taste of what’s to come. Also, work has been continuing on the sequel to “The Vampyre Blogs – Coming Home” which is currently being titled “The Vampyre Blogs – Family Ties”. Helen and I have a number of surprises for Nathan and you all, so please stay tuned. In the meantime, here’s a little Thanksgiving story I created 3 years ago. We hope you enjoy this tale that shows just how crazy things can get around the holidays… especially if you hang out with Nathan*

THANKSGIVING DAY 

I think everyone has memories of certain holiday gatherings that they’ll never forget.  Usually it’s because something really special or very unfortunate happened.  But how many of us can say they’ll never forget a certain Thanksgiving dinner because the host wound up fighting a duel with the intended dinner?

Well that’s what happened this year and I don’t think I’ll even need to watch the video I took of it, to help me remember.  However, I will be saving it to show any children or grandchildren I have down the road, so they can see what craziness can ensue when you let Uncle Nathan try to prepare a holiday dinner.

It all started about a week ago, right after Mom gave birth to my new baby brother Geoffrey.  I was on hand for the event, while Dad and Uncle Nathan stayed in the Waiting Room.  Mom had given strict instructions that neither of them were allowed to be on hand to watch.  In fact part of my job was to make sure they didn’t come in.

I asked Doctor Jack about it later and all he did was smirk and mumble something about a Dr. Quackenbush and associate, who had been on hand to help keep the patient relaxed.  The name sounded familiar to me so I Googled it afterwards on my laptop and found it was one of Groucho Marx’s personas from a movie called “A Day At the Races”.  Apparently, he’d played a veterinarian who also treated a rich woman as one of his patients.  Having seen Uncle Nathan’s Groucho impression I could only imagine what kind of nonsense he and Dad must’ve gotten up to inside the delivery room that day until Mom ordered the two of them out.

Anyway, right after Geoffrey arrived, Uncle Nathan offered to host Thanksgiving over at The Crypt.  “Between late night feedings and changing diapers I don’t think any of you are going to be up to shopping and prepping a big meal,” he pointed out.

Needless to say, none of us disagreed with him.  He even invited Dr. Jack and his family to join the festivities, which my favorite physician readily agreed to.  We didn’t see or hear from Uncle Nathan again for the rest of the week, which made my parents wonder if dinner was still on.  Then last night he phoned to let us know he’d been called away to help his old friend, Professor Otto Hofstadter, with a little ‘problem’ which they’d successfully resolved, and that we were still expected the next day at 5:00 PM.

Needless to say we left the house today and headed downtown.  Once we reached the building that housed The Crypt, we headed down the side alley where the stairs leading down to The Crypt awaited.  Dr. Jack and his family were just heading down the steps when we showed up and after the usual Thanksgiving greetings were exchanged, we all carefully made our way down the steps.  The door at the bottom was unlocked so we let ourselves in only to have our breaths taken away.

As usual, Uncle Nathan had really gone all out with decorating the place.  There was a huge table that could seat a couple of dozen people just on one side, in the center of the main room.  It was all decked out with candles, plates,fancy napkins, the works.  There was also a very expensive looking harp nearby, which meant we would probably be treated to some fine music afterwards.  As we all gazed around in wonder, I couldn’t believe he’d gone to so much trouble just for us, but I was glad at the same time.  “This was going to be one of the most memorable Thanksgiving dinners ever,” I breathed aloud, while everyone nodded in agreement.

Uncle Nathan appeared a moment later, wearing a white apron and a big chef’s hat.  After greeting each of us, he got everyone settled in and disappeared back to the kitchen area.  We were all excited and eager to see what he had prepared for us.  A moment later, he came back out carrying a huge glimmering silver platter.  Naturally it had a very shiny lid which was rather tall, leaving us all wondering how big a turkey he had gotten for the occasion.  However, knowing his sense of humor, I I half expected it to be a very small bird no bigger than a pigeon,  But much to my surprise and delight, when the cover was removed, there was indeed a very large bird on the platter.

After running back into the kitchen and returning with more dishes, he removed his hat and apron, and proceeded to brandish a very large fork, which he deftly sank into the turkey.  Only to have the bird jump up, remove the fork from itself and then waved an angry fist at him.

TO BE CONTINUED…

“The Cannibal Killer” – Part II: Nathan’s Private E-Journal June 17th, 2016

*Note to self: I’m not the only one living in this big old house!* 

      I really need to pay attention to what’s going on around me when I’m on my computer, because I never know who’s going to come by and start reading over my shoulder.  Today, it was practically EVERYBODY!  Sigh…

     Now let me set the scene for you all.  Ever since I started writing I got into the habit of using two monitors at once, so I can have something I’m researching on one screen, while I’m writing on the other.  Tonight, I was reading an e-mail from my “nephew” Michael Rhodes about a case he’s involved with on one screen, while looking over the newspaper accounts on the other.

    I was so absorbed in what I was reading that I never heard Penny, Lisa, or Marisa come into the room.  In fact I only realized they were there after I suddenly leaned back  and felt my head bump into Marisa’s chest (not that she minded).

    After realizing I had an audience I quickly looked around the room to make sure one person in particular had not seen what I had been reading.

     As if reading my thoughts Penny said, “Isabella’s downstairs with Richard.”

    Immediately I breathed a sigh of relief and then scowled at the intruders.  “And what brings all three of you into my study?  For all you know, I could’ve been working on a new bestseller… or surfing the internet for porn.”

     “Which was why we came in,” Marisa answered simply. pointed out.

   “If you were searching for porn we felt it was important to know what turns you on and what doesn’t,”  Lisa added helpfully.

  “I just came in to see if you wanted something to drink,” was Penny’s contribution to the proceedings.  But she looked troubled.

    Standing up I started to ask Marisa and Lisa to leave us, but Penny cut in sharply saying, “NO!  They need to hear this!”

    I don’t know who was more surprised by her tone, our companions or me.  In either case, both girls sat down while I drew closer to Penny who I noticed was shaking slightly.  As she looked at me I gave her a reassuring smile and said quietly, “Start whenever you’re ready.”

   She gave me a little smile but instead of talking she wandered over to one of the windows in my study and stared out into the night.

     After several moments she said, “All the victims of that psycho you were reading up on were women.”

       It was more a statement than a question, still I replied, “Yes, they were.”

    She nodded, then asked, “Did you girls know prostitutes are the most likely to be victims of violence or even murdered?”

      Lisa looked uncomfortable, but Marisa actually answered.  “Yes, I did a report on violence against women for a class.  Got a good grade on it, plus a lecture from the teacher for touching on a ‘sensitive’ subject.”

     “Was the instructor male?” Penny asked.

     “Yeah, he was.”

     Penny turned.  “And what did you say?”

    “I reminded him that he’d asked us to pick a social issue that needed addressing and that I’d felt that violence against women was one I felt strongly about.  Then he asked why I’d focused on prostitutes and I told him that many of them had wound up in that situation because they’d been victimized already and needed more protection not less.  After that things got a little heated, and he wound up lowering my grade to a C.”

    I made a mental note to myself to ask Marisa the name of her instructor, but only later.  But right now I wanted to keep my focus on what Penny had to say.

    She gave Marisa a fleeting smile of gratitude, but then her expression turned serious again.  “You’re right, we… they do.  And sometimes we found it with guys who wanted to ‘protect’ us and help us out.  Only they could be just as bad, or worse than some of our clients.”

     “Like Tony?” Lisa murmured, breaking her silence.

     Penny shot her a look, but it quickly softened.  “Yeah, like my old employer.  But he only got mean when one of us tried to leave.  As long as we were under his roof, we WERE protected.  Which was why I felt safer being in a brothel than I did out on the street.  Anyone got too rough with us they’d be sorry…  But the only way any of us left his employ was when he felt they weren’t worth keeping around anymore.  Or he’d grown tired of them.”

    “Richard must’ve been very special for you to risk all that you did to get away,” I remarked, thinking aloud.

     That earned me a smile.  “He was… and not just because he got me a knocked up.  I could’ve easily gotten an abortion, but I wanted my baby and him.  And I would’ve lost both if it hadn’t been for you and Lisa.”

     “It was mostly Nathan,” my favorite goddaughter pointed out.

    “You were there for us too,” Penny replied softly, and then turned back to me.  “But the point I’m trying to make is that girls in my trade, we lived our lives knowing something bad could and would happen to us.  But the girls in those articles… they were just like these two,” here she gestured at Lisa and Marisa who were looking a little pale right about then.  “They weren’t hooking, they were just women who had families and friends who loved them.  One or two of them had children… they weren’t looking for trouble but it found them and it cost them.  But not before they suffered.”

     Glancing back at the article that was still on my screen, my eyes went straight to the part where it described some of what had been done to the girl before she died and murmured, “I know…”

     Penny caught the tone in my voice and said, “I know this Michael guy has already asked you to help stop this guy, but now I’m asking you as well.  Use your abilities to stop this guy, don’t let another girl suffer at his hands.”

     “Oh I intend to,” I assured her and began to use my shape-shifting skills.

     Normally, I don’t let anyone see one of my transformations, unless I’m turning into mist.  But most of the time I’m usually changing into something more “bestial”.  However this wasn’t one of those occasions.  First my waist pulled in while my hips expanded slightly.  At the same time the hair on my arms vanished while the skin took on a smoother look.  As my hair lengthened, my chest expanded, while my jawline softened and my nose took on a more aquiline shape.

   Once I was done, I gazed expectantly at my audience and said, “Well?  Do I make a tempting target?”

      Lisa, who I noticed was looking a little flushed, was the first to answer, “A little too tempting.”

     “Too male fantasy?” I asked.

     “Too Hollywood,” answered Marisa. who was also eyeing me curiously.

    “But it’s a good start,” Penny smiled and turned to the girls.  “Why don’t you two get some clothes and make-up for our girl here.  Then we’ll give her some tips to get the proper effect.”

     As soon as the girls left, Penny looked at me and said, “You know, if you hadn’t changed form, one of them would’ve offered to act as bait.”

     I nodded, “I was also afraid you might as well.”

     “I was,” she admitted and then threw her arms around me saying, “Thank you.”

    As I returned the gesture, I silently prayed for all our sakes (including Michael and Terri’s) that I would be enough to be the maniac’s next target.

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.*  

skeleton jack

ANNOUNCEMENT – COMING THIS NOVEMBER THE FIRST “VAMPYRE BLOGS ANTHOLOGY” AND OTHER NEWS…

With the completion of Nathan and Otto’s rather lengthy adventure with the Unicorns and Terror Raptors, I thought now might be a good time to let you all know that Helen and I have been hard at work on a brand new Vampyre Blogs book. This volume is set to be released just after this coming Thanksgiving, so you only have to wait another four months to get your hands on this latest installment of the Para-Earth Series.

However… unlike the first book, this one will be an anthology instead of a novel. We will be taking select entries from this nearly four year old blog site to be included in the anthology. Now you may be asking yourself, why put a bunch of stories that are available online into a collection? Well, I’d been getting some e-mails and messages on Facebook, that newcomers to the site telling us that they loved Nathan and company, but found scrolling through so many pages to get to the earlier stories was a bit tedious to say the least.

Upon repeatedly hearing this, Helen and I went over the site and found that had created almost fifty different stories. And while some of them were short, others were so long that they could have anywhere from two to six separate entries to tell entire tale.

While going over some of the earlier and more recent entries, I also began to notice some glaring problems that had been overlooked when they were originally published. This was the direct result of the fact that all of the stories in this blog were basically 1st drafts. Meaning of course they were not fully edited so the ‘occasional’ (massive understatement) misspelling or less-then-perfect punctuations appear in a number of them.

However I can tell you now that all the stories going into the anthology will be getting edited and have a few tweeks made to them for better clarity of reading. Also, the stories will be put in a chronological order. This means they will appear in the anthology by according to when the character telling the tale originally wrote/experienced the adventure. Furthermore, some adjustments being made to some of the stories to create a more smooth timeline for who met who when.

The purpose of doing these ‘adjustments’ is so that the readers can have a better idea of how each of these life events shaped the characters’ personalities before they appear in “The Vampyre Blogs – Coming Home”.

And as they say on television…

 

Both Helen and I agreed right off the bat that any anthology we created needed to have new never-before seen tales in it. In this case, out of the 23-24 stories we currently have lined up for the anthology, six to seven (about a third) of the stories are completely NEW and will not be appearing on this site. Several of these new tales involve Nathan’s ‘long-time’ Otto, aka “The Professor”, who made his debut in “The Vampyre Blogs – Coming Home”. Both his introduction in the novel and his comment, “Apparently, I am am made of NOPE…” have caught the imagination of our readers who have been clamoring for more details on this strange man who Nathan looks up to as a mentor, as well as friend.

Also, since Helen and I are both artists, we are going to try and add some original pen and ink artwork to a number of the stories. We will also be placing either an Intro or an Afterthought to each tale explaining either how the story came to be.

We are also planning more anthologies for the future, not only for the Vampyre Blogs, but also the rest of the characters appearing in Para-Earth Series such as: Alex Hill, Veronica Ross (who along with her boss Roy Petersen – appear in two of the tales in this anthology) and their friends…

Our goal is to release “The Vampyre Blogs – One Day at a Time” on Black Friday or Cyber Monday at the latest, so add it to your holiday wish list, or think about someone you know who’d love a good read on those cold winter nights.

Finally, we are also exploring another avenue with the Para-Earths namely… AUDIOBOOKS!  We’ve had a number of people asking us if and when we’d make the books available in that form.  So currently we are looking into that area and will be providing updates soon.  With we might even have a couple of short stories in audio form for free, to be released just in time for the holidays so we can get some feedback from all of you.

With all that said you can see we have a lot of plans for both The Vampyre Blogs and the rest of the Para-Earth Series in the works.  But have no fears, new stories will still be appearing here as well.  So stay with us and please help spread the word about Nathan, his friends, and the rest of the Para-Earth Series.  The fun has just begun…

Amazon US:

https://www.amazon.com/Allan-Krummenacker/e/B00B1W8TEU/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1501360496&sr=8-1

Amazon.UK:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Allan-Krummenacker/e/B00B1W8TEU/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1

Barnes and Noble:

 https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/allan+krummenacker?_requestid=724422

Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/1383

Nathan’s Private E-Journal – February 16, 2014 “My Odd Valentine’s Day Adventure” Part- I

Perhaps ‘Odd’ isn’t the right word for this entry, ‘Most Unique’ would probably be a better phrase to describe what happened this year.  Things certainly didn’t go as I’d planned, but at least Lisa is speaking to me again.  She’s given me the cold shoulder more than once over the years when I’ve broken one of my promises.  Heck who am I kidding, she doesn’t give you a simple cold shoulder.  That girl can give you a look so cold it would make the iceberg that sank the Titanic turn green with envy.

In fact we were visiting a zoo once when she shot me one of those looks.  We were standing next to the penguin exhibit, and I swear every bird in the enclosure closed ranks to keep warm like they do during an arctic storm.  Heck, I even tried joining them but they kicked me out as if to say, “Forget it, Pal!  You brought this on yourself and we’re suffering for it, now go take your medicine.”

Needless to say I made nice with Lisa as quickly as possible, while preventing a new global ice age in the process.

So what does all this have to do with Valentine’s Day?  Simple, I promised to spend it with her and… I didn’t make it.

 

 In my defense I had a perfectly good reason for being two days late.  You see it all started about a week ago…

I was attending a symposium that was taking place in Tromso, Norway, where one of my old Alma Maters is located.  I had attended the University of Tromso – Arctic University about seven years ago, thanks to Otto.  He had told me about their Master’s Program in Molecular Environmental Biology and thought it might help me gain some new insights to the symbiotic life form which shares and prolongs my existence.

He also pointed out that the timing of the classes coincided nicely with the seasonal Polar Nights in Norway, which meant I wouldn’t have to compete with the sun very much.  This suited me just fine of course, so of course I quickly enrolled.

Looking back I can easily say I enjoyed my time there.  Not only were there some wonderful concerts, but also the location of Tromso offered some of the most spectacular views of the Northern Lights.

Anyway, after the third day of the symposium, I was ready to move on.  I’d already listened to the speakers I was most interested in hearing from and didn’t feel like hanging around the campus.  So I made my way into the main city to explore the architecture and other sights Tromso had to offer.  I had just made my way down by the water and was enjoying looking up at the Northern Lights when I heard a familiar jovial voice saying, “Ah, here you are.  I see you decided to play hooky instead of attending my presentation.”

Turning I saw Otto walking up to me.  He was shaking his head and making tsk-tsk noises.  I could tell already by his manner that he had something on his mind, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.  Cleary he had learned of another possible Para-Earth incursion and he wanted me to come along to help make sure nothing came through that shouldn’t and vice-versa.

And looking back at that last sentence I realize now that I just zinged myself but good.  In my defense, our latest adventure has left me a little giddy but once you hear what happened you’ll understand.

TO BE CONTINUED…  

Lisa’s Private Thoughts July 4th, 20–

Happy 4th of July Everyone!

Tonight’s fireworks display was spectacular as always.  I have to say here in Pointer we know how to party.  There was a huge barbecue in the park as always where most of the families converged.  Marisa, me and a few others like Teddy had blast.  There was the annual softball game, frisbees flying everywhere, and the traditional water balloon toss.  And as per usual, the waterballoon game turned into an all out water pistol fight thanks to ‘certain’ individuals who’s name begins and ends with the letter N.  Naturally, Uncle Nathan denies the charges even though he was the one who handed me a couple of the water pistols himself claiming they were “Strictly for self-defense.”

He doesn’t realize I saw him pull another one out of his costume and nailed Marisa with it.  Then he had the nerve to tell her it was me who started it and then handed her a couple of weapons so she could get even.

Amazingly, he managed to stay dry the whole time.  I think it was the outfit that got him spared.

Dressing up like Richard Henry Lee, the representative from Virginia who first called for the colonies to break away from England during the Second Continental Congress, was a masterstroke.  No one had the heart to mess up his outfit.  Plus it allowed Uncle Nathan to disappear and reappear throughout the festivities as needed.  I know he had to keep hitting the red stuff in order to stay outside on a hot sunny day like this.  And of course, the guise allowed him to wander among all the families, including those who had no idea who or what he really was.  He does this sort of thing every time he spends the Fourth of July with us, which is like every other year.

After the great water battle ended, a bunch of us felt like cooling in the shade for a while and headed for the large canopy where Uncle Nate was relaxing.  His face was a bit red so I knew he’d just had another bag or two of blood, which meant he’d be good for another couple of hours.  By then the sun would be setting and things would cool off and he’d be all right.

Remembering he needed to ‘stay in character’ I asked, “Mr. Lee, how does this celebration compare to the ones that took place years ago?  Have they changed much?”

Smiling he began speaking, “Well, my dear, back in my day the morning would start with artillery fire, which woke up most of the town who hadn’t already been up.   Then there’d be some cannon and musket firing a little later and there would be a parade.  There’d be music, marching soldiers, and of course there would be speaker who’d gone on for about an hour or two.  Then the real fun began, at least for the men.  They’d head to a tavern while the women went home and took the children with them…”

At that point I had to butt in.  “Hold it, you’re saying the women went back to their drab daily lives while the guys partied?  Am I the only girl here who finds that offensive?”

A loud “NO” erupted from all around me, which pretty much included every mom who was present.

Undaunted, Uncle Nathan continued, “I quite agree ladies.  Which is probably why things started changing around the 1850’s.  Then the celebrations became more like what we have these days.  Oh there were still the parades, cannons, and muskets, but then most families would to on a picnic and watch the fireworks at night.”

Here he paused and glanced around at his audience which had grown considerably, “We’ve had fireworks since the very first celebration, for those who didn’t know.  And yes, we were careful not to burn down the entire town while doing it.  That’s another thing that hasn’t changed.  We were very proud of our accomplishment and how our country managed to hang in there and stay together.  Oh we’ve always had our differences of political opinion and what should and shouldn’t be allowed, but America has always managed to hang together.  And that’s because the people stuck together.  Here in West Virginia we fought to free people who had been denied their rights to be citizens because of skin color.  As a nation we later fought to keep aggressors from threatening our way of life and that of others overseas, not only once but on many occasions.  America was made up of immigrants and welcomed even more who brought many customs and ideas which became part of everyone’s life.  And we have to remember that.  Some people complain about others not learning how to speak, read, or write in English, but not everyone did when we first started out.  Some cannot learn because they’re too old or unwell and we have to make allowances for that and remember that none of our ancestors knew the native tongues of those who were living here before WE arrived.  But they were tolerant and tried to understand us because they knew some of us came to escape persecution.  In New York harbor there’s a very tall lady who still welcomes everyone who wants a chance at a better life or to escape some kind of threat.  Patience, tolerance and understanding is what she represents as well as a second chance at a better life. May we all remember that and try to live up to those promises.”

With that he raised a glass and wished us all a Happy Fourth of July and finished with “God Bless America and all who come to her shores.”  Once more everyone cheered and I thought, so this is what the 4th of July was like when he was a boy.  We had a parade, a bit of cannon fire, muskets, a huge picnic, comeraderie and now we’d had a speaker.  A speaker who managed to reach out to his audience and make us really think.  And in a few hours we’d have fireworks.   Yeah, this is what the 4th of July should be like.  Thanks Uncle Nathan.

Lisa’s Private Thoughts – March 15, 2015 “Never Forgotten…”

*A note from the author: Terry Pratchett has long been one of my all time favorite authors.  He’s made me laugh and think so often it never ceases to amaze me.  It’s  because of him there are so many moments of laughter in my own work, but never enough to distract from the main storyline.  However, I’ve never reached the levels of hilarity and pointedness he could.  With his passing this week, I knew I had to do some kind of entry to say how much he and his work influenced me.  I struggled with how to come up with something to say, when I remembered Nathaniel who has been around for so long and has known so many people.  So, through him I share some thoughts and feelings on the passing of a wondrous author, as well as provide more insight into my vampyre and what makes him so special sometimes.  I hope you enjoy.*

My last class of the day got cancelled over at New River Tech, which is also where my dad teaches.   Marisa still had some classes as well, but I didn’t feel like hanging around the campus.  So I decided to go and hang out over at Nathan’s place.  He was probably still resting down in the ground, but at least I’d be there when he got up.

 You can imagine my surprise when I got to his place and found he was up and about in the middle of the afternoon.  I found him sitting on the floor with his back me, with a bunch of books laid out in front of him. Surprisingly, none of them were the old worn hardback kind that lined the walls of the room.   Instead, these were all paperbacks, some going back as far as the 1980’s.

Naturally, this piqued my curiosity so I quietly went over to him and took a look at the covers.  They were colorful with amusing artwork.  All of them were by the same author… Terry Pratchett.

Immediately my heart sank.  “Did he…?”

Nathan nodded.  “It was all over the internet this morning,” he sighed and looked up at me.  “I’m surprised you didn’t already know.”

“Marisa and I have a dance class at 8:00 AM, so I didn’t have a chance to get online,” I replied and sat down next to him.  As soon as I settled in, I rested my head against his shoulder.  “I remember when you introduced us to him when we went to England with you.  He was really nice. I like him.”

“He was amazing,” Nathan smiled.  “Not that he thought it, but you, me and a lot of other people out there did.”

“At least we have his books and stories to remember him,” I pointed out.

“I have a lot more than that,” Nathan said with a smile that aroused my curiosity.

“Oh? What did you two have wild night together or something?” I asked innocently, while batting my eyes at him.

“We had a few nights where… HEY!” as cut himself off as the penny finally dropped.

I was still laughing at his reaction as he desperately tried to explain that nothing ‘unnatural’ as he put it, ever happened between the two of them.  “We just had a few good laughs together, that’s all,” he  finished with scowl that was not remotely intimidating.

Taking his hand I squeezed it and said more seriously, “I know it’s hard losing another friend.  It’s not something you ever get used to, is it?  No matter how long you’ve been around.”

“No, it isn’t,” he said quietly, as that curious smile suddenly reappeared on his face.  “But, I can take solace in the fact that for me they’re never really gone.  My memories are different than most people’s.”

“How so?” I asked curiously.

For a moment he didn’t answer.  Instead he seemed to be gathering his thoughts and then said, “T think Terry put it best when he said…”

“Now most people, can recall a number of things from their past.  But I can recall everything!”

I stared at him in wonder for a moment.  “Everything?” I repeated.

He nodded.  “Our brains are taking in all kinds of information all the time.  The feel of the breeze on our skin, someone’s smile, how it felt to kiss a person you’ve longed for the first time, the works.  But it’s so hard to remember every little detail.”

“I can remember a lot of things,” I pointed out.

“Of that I’m certain, but how hard is it to remember all the things that you saw and witnessed in 1999?”

I started to say something then stopped.  “You mean, in the entire year?  Everything I saw or did within that time?”

He nodded.

Blinking I shook my head.  “No, I don’t think I could.  I’ve probably forgotten most of it.”

At that point Nathan shook his head, “No you haven’t.  It’s all there, but it’s stashed away in different areas of the brain where you can’t always access them.  But it’s all there.”

           

Immediately my mind began picturing photos and letters all scattered about in a huge room inside my head.  Only it looked like total chaos.  “But you can keep track of it all, can’t you?” I asked.

“With effort, but yes,” he smiled.  “I can recall everything friends like Terry ever said or did in front of me.  Plus there are always the stories other people told me about him.”

“And you never forget any of it?”

“Not a single thing,” he replied.

“Then, you remember everyone you’ve ever met and all the things they did,” I whispered in awe.

This time his smile became even wider.  “Now you got it.”

“So you’re like a walking repository of other people’s lives.  The ones who only family and friends knew about, because they never became famous or well known,” I murmured in growing awe.

“That’s definitely one way of looking at it,” he nodded after thinking it over for a few seconds.  “And I share those memories with their descendants so they’re never forgotten.”

“So you make sure their memories stay alive,” I smiled.

“I can do better than that,” Nathan winked.  “If the person is in tune enough with me, I can share those memories so they can have them as well.”

This was news to me so I quickly begged him to share one with me, which he did.  It might not have been the one he’d intended but I saw Mr. Pratchett holding a broom, next to the actor who played “Death” in one of the Discworld movies.  Both were pointing at each other with amusement and camaraderie, then I felt something… calm and at peace.  I knew that last part came from Nathan.  It was how he was feeling about losing another friend.

Having read the Discworld books myself I knew that when Death collected someone there would be a desert for them to cross.  “Do you think Mr. Pratchett’s already crossed it?” I asked Nathan as we were still linked.

To my surprise Nathan shook his head and said, “No.  Somehow I think he’s in a cottage that is much bigger on the inside, and colored in different shades of black, and is filled with all kinds of cats.  Across from him Death is holding out a cup of tea saying, “ALBERT AND I WERE WONDERING IF YOU WOULDN’T MIND STAYING FOR A WHILE AND TELLING US A STORY…”  That’s where I think he is, anyway.”

“I think so too,” I smiled and gave Nathan a kiss, knowing the memory of it would never be lost.

**Special Note: The section where Death is talking to Mr. Pratchett was created by my wife Helen, who gave me permission to share it in this entry.  Thank you my love.**

Lisa’s Private Thoughts October 12th, 2011: “Vintage Clothing, Nathan, and Burlesque”

Uncle Nathan is the coolest guy ever!

Back when we’d been in Europe he’d promised to take me to some places that had vintage clothing and today he did just that.  It was a raining today so we didn’t have to worry about the sun bothering him as we drove around.  At the first place we stopped I found this really nice-looking old bustle skirt in black that fit just perfect.  Unfortunately, it was a little out of my price range, but not Nathan’s.  He bought if for me.

“It looked perfect on you,” he explained.  “And I would know, I spent a lot of time looking at women from the front, from behind, all around in fact.”

I gently slugged him on the arm for that one and called him a pervert to which he replied, “Excuse me, I did work in theater for a coupled of decades doing a lot of different jobs, including helping with people’s outfits.  I had to make sure they looked right before they went on stage.”

“Sure, you did,” I teased back.

“Right, that does it,” he announced and took me to a theater that was running a burlesque show.

Now before anyone freaks out, the show wasn’t going to be on until later.  So the only people there were a couple of the girls who were rehearsing and the troupe’s leader, a woman named Olivia.  Much to my surprise when she spotted Nathan her face lit up and she came running over to give him a big hug crying, “Uncle Nate!  Oh, how I’ve missed you.  Hey, everyone Nate’s here!”

I swear one of these days I’m going to find out exactly how many people are part of his ‘extended family’ besides mine.  Back in Europe there were quite a few, but now I’m beginning to think that the the actual numbers are much larger.

In this case it made sense.  Apparently a number of friends and cousins were in charge of this burlesque troupe.  I don’t think all of them know his real secret as a couple of the people mentioned how unusual it was to see him in the day.  “You usually only come around at night when we have a show going,” one mentioned.  To which he replied with a waggle of his eyebrows, “Well, the sites around here are much more interesting at that time.”

After everyone burst out laughing, I was given the grand tour backstage while Nathan was giving people a hand here and there with the backstage equipment and event he costumes.  Apparently he was telling the truth as several of the girls asked for his opinion and help with some of their outfits.  I think a few were trying to flirt, but mostly they did want his advice and help.

It was interesting to see all the inner workings of a theater backstage.  I’d never been behind the scenes before, so this was a real treat for me.

Plus I got to see inside one of the dressing rooms where they kept all the clothing and make-up.   One of the things they all stressed to me was although I wanted to go for an authentic look I should also keep in mind, be able to move and breathe.

“We don’t just get out there and start stripping, we’re dancing,” one girl told me.  “We do splits and a lot of other acrobatics.  And some of us are wearing corsets and those can be constricting so if you’re not careful you could make your life really miserable.  So choose items that allow movement and fabrics that breathe and you’ll be okay.”

I thought this was great advice, because the theater teacher at my high school has been complimenting me on my outfits lately.  She says I have an eye for style and authentic looks and has been hinting I should maybe join her class.  I told her I’d think about it and now I really am.  This could be a great experience for me and open up some doors down the road.  I may do it since I have more time to myself these days.  Marisa is still being distant, but at least now I know what’s going on.  Her dad is fighting cancer and she’s spending as much time with him as possible in case things go bad.

I’d love to be there for her, but my parents say I should respect her wishes to be with her family more, so I’m giving her her space.  I’m still going to try and be there for her as much as possible, especially at school.  But I’m going to do as my parents say and giver her her space.  I just hope things go well so we can start hanging together again.  I really miss her.