and the necessary steps were taken.
Destroying a Vampire was a messy business. A hawthorn stake driven into a Vampire’s heart was the most common method of destruction. Beheading was also recommended. Sunlight was also fatal, although Vampires in Poland and Russia prowled the streets from noon until midnight.
Most interesting of all was the description of folk Vampires and those in literature, which described the Undead as really disgusting creatures, not only because of their grotesque appearance, which included razorlike, blood-stained fangs, hairy palms, and glowing red eyes, but the stink that clung to them from the dried blood of their victims. Vampires had apparently changed with the times. Modern Vampires were hypnotically and sensually attractive and much more pleasing to look upon, thanks to the influence of Bram Stoker’s Dracula and suave actors like Bela Lugosi, George Hamilton, and Frank Langella.
And real-life Vampire, Raphael Cordova , I thought with a smile.
Ah, Rafe. I wondered what he was doing. Sleeping, I supposed, and I wondered if he rested in a coffin, and what he wore to sleep in. I couldn’t imagine him in anything as mundane as a pair of cotton pajamas. Maybe a black T-shirt and briefs…or maybe nothing at all.
Feeling suddenly warm, I went into the back room for a bottle of cold water. What I had read was fascinating. Of course, I had no idea how much of it was based on fact and how much was pure fiction. It occurred to me that I was wasting a lot of time searching the Internet when I had something much better—an actual Vampire. Or did I? After last night, I wasn’t sure he was ever coming back. The thought of never seeing him again brought the sting of hot tears to my eyes.
But I didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity. The jangle of the bell over the door announced that I had one of those all-too-rare creatures—a customer. Blinking back my tears, I smoothed a hand over my hair, pasted a smile on my face, and went out front.
A pair of elderly women were browsing the romance shelves. One was tall and angular with shoulder-length white hair. The other was short and a trifle plump. Her curly red hair was obviously dyed. In addition to wide silver bracelets, silver crosses, and dangling silver earrings, they both wore designer jeans, brightly colored silk blouses, comfortable sneakers, and fake flowers in their hair. I guessed them to be in their midseventies.
They both looked over at me and smiled, then turned back to the stacks. I watched them for a few minutes as they picked up one book after another, read the back cover copy and the first page, and then either added the book to the growing pile on top of the shelf or put it back. By the time they were ready to go, they had twenty-two paperbacks between them.
“So glad you’re here,” the redheaded one said. “I don’t drive, you know, so whenever new books come out, I either have to impose on my grandson and ask him to drive me over to one of the bookstores in River’s Edge, or order them online. But now you’re here!”
“Come along, Edna,” the other woman said, taking hold of her friend’s arm. “I’m sure she doesn’t give a fig about your shopping habits.”
“Oh, but I do,” I said, smiling at the two of them. If they bought this many books every time they came in, I could stop worrying about going out of business.
Edna moved closer to the counter. “I don’t suppose you give a senior discount, do you?” she asked in a near whisper.
“Well, I never have,” I said, “but I will today. How does 10 percent sound?”
“You see, Pearl,” Edna said with a triumphant grin, “I told you it wouldn’t hurt to ask!”
“Have you two been friends long?” I asked as I rang up their sales.
“Oh, my, yes,” Pearl exclaimed.
“Fifty-five years come January,” Edna said. “We met in the maternity ward. I was having my first baby.”
“And I was having my second.” Pearl looked at Edna, and the two
Destroying a Vampire was a messy business. A hawthorn stake driven into a Vampire’s heart was the most common method of destruction. Beheading was also recommended. Sunlight was also fatal, although Vampires in Poland and Russia prowled the streets from noon until midnight.
Most interesting of all was the description of folk Vampires and those in literature, which described the Undead as really disgusting creatures, not only because of their grotesque appearance, which included razorlike, blood-stained fangs, hairy palms, and glowing red eyes, but the stink that clung to them from the dried blood of their victims. Vampires had apparently changed with the times. Modern Vampires were hypnotically and sensually attractive and much more pleasing to look upon, thanks to the influence of Bram Stoker’s Dracula and suave actors like Bela Lugosi, George Hamilton, and Frank Langella.
And real-life Vampire, Raphael Cordova , I thought with a smile.
Ah, Rafe. I wondered what he was doing. Sleeping, I supposed, and I wondered if he rested in a coffin, and what he wore to sleep in. I couldn’t imagine him in anything as mundane as a pair of cotton pajamas. Maybe a black T-shirt and briefs…or maybe nothing at all.
Feeling suddenly warm, I went into the back room for a bottle of cold water. What I had read was fascinating. Of course, I had no idea how much of it was based on fact and how much was pure fiction. It occurred to me that I was wasting a lot of time searching the Internet when I had something much better—an actual Vampire. Or did I? After last night, I wasn’t sure he was ever coming back. The thought of never seeing him again brought the sting of hot tears to my eyes.
But I didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity. The jangle of the bell over the door announced that I had one of those all-too-rare creatures—a customer. Blinking back my tears, I smoothed a hand over my hair, pasted a smile on my face, and went out front.
A pair of elderly women were browsing the romance shelves. One was tall and angular with shoulder-length white hair. The other was short and a trifle plump. Her curly red hair was obviously dyed. In addition to wide silver bracelets, silver crosses, and dangling silver earrings, they both wore designer jeans, brightly colored silk blouses, comfortable sneakers, and fake flowers in their hair. I guessed them to be in their midseventies.
They both looked over at me and smiled, then turned back to the stacks. I watched them for a few minutes as they picked up one book after another, read the back cover copy and the first page, and then either added the book to the growing pile on top of the shelf or put it back. By the time they were ready to go, they had twenty-two paperbacks between them.
“So glad you’re here,” the redheaded one said. “I don’t drive, you know, so whenever new books come out, I either have to impose on my grandson and ask him to drive me over to one of the bookstores in River’s Edge, or order them online. But now you’re here!”
“Come along, Edna,” the other woman said, taking hold of her friend’s arm. “I’m sure she doesn’t give a fig about your shopping habits.”
“Oh, but I do,” I said, smiling at the two of them. If they bought this many books every time they came in, I could stop worrying about going out of business.
Edna moved closer to the counter. “I don’t suppose you give a senior discount, do you?” she asked in a near whisper.
“Well, I never have,” I said, “but I will today. How does 10 percent sound?”
“You see, Pearl,” Edna said with a triumphant grin, “I told you it wouldn’t hurt to ask!”
“Have you two been friends long?” I asked as I rang up their sales.
“Oh, my, yes,” Pearl exclaimed.
“Fifty-five years come January,” Edna said. “We met in the maternity ward. I was having my first baby.”
“And I was having my second.” Pearl looked at Edna, and the two
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