Excerpt: A Vampire Carol

About A Vampire Carol

This is not, despite the title, another re-telling of Dicken's classic. (There are already several vampire and zombie versions available, if you want one, don't fear!) It's a story I've had knocking around my brain bins for a while. But I didn't know what to do with it. Vampire vs Werewolf would be trite on its own, if there were not some other interest, but this story was too brutal for the comic My Three Werewolf Sons story I was originally contemplating. (I haven't given up on that idea either, however.)

Most authors have half-finished stories which languish, abandoned, on a drive or in a drawer, because the author has no idea how to complete it. Then suddenly, and brilliant idea brings everything together—like how about spicing up an overripe premise of vampire-werewolf rivalry with a fiber optic Christmas tree and a life-size nativity set?

For copyright reasons, this is available as a stand-alone only on non-Amazon sites. For Kindle readers, it can be found as part of the Christmas Tales anthology.

Back Cover:

The last thing Alex wanted was to become a vampire for Christmas... or to feed on his best friend's brother. His friend will do anything for revenge. Even become a werewolf.

Can there be such a thing as forgiveness for monsters?

This is an urban fantasy novelette, with some romance, some violence, some Christianity and three Christmases.

Excerpt:

Last Christmas (Year One As a Vampire)

Vivian from Accounting cornered him in the copy room, at the office Christmas party. She wore a red dress that looked as though it had been spray painted over her voluptuous body, a Titanic-sized ruby heart necklace, and scarlet lipstick. From the minute she’d walked into the party, Alex began committing adultery with her in his heart.

“Take my advice,” said a man next to Alex. “She wants to sell you something you don’t want to buy.”

A song throbbed in the background: Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…

Alex didn’t know him. The man had the face of magazine model, and wore all black: a black silk suit that was much too Italian for any employee of their fashion-challenged tech company, over a black shirt with a black tie and an onyx cross tie pin. He pulled out a bottle of tiny pills and popped one, just as Vivian hurried reached them.

…but the very next day, you gave it away, crooned the song.

“You weren’t invited, Michael,” Vivian said with undisguised hostility.

“Obviously I was.”

“You don’t work here.”

Michael shrugged elegantly. “I was just leaving.”

This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to somebody special…

Michael waved to Stacy, a three hundred pound sys admin with eczema, Alex’s good friend since forever and fellow sys admin. When Michael took her arm with a suave gesture, the mismatch was obvious to everyone, even Stacy, who blushed, star-struck, and made no argument when he made their good-byes even though they had just arrived. He led her away. Alex bristled.

Poor Stacy. Her best hope was that Michael was just using her for sex.

“Wow,” said Alex. “What was his problem?”

“Can I talk to you in private, Alex?” Vivian asked.

“Uh…”

…once bitten, twice shy, I keep my distance but you still catch my eye…

She touched his arm and sauntered away, and he followed like a puppy. It occurred to him that Vivian outclassed him as much as Michael. Michael was probably Vivian’s ex. Michael was probably a martial arts expert—he moved with that kind of self-assurance, everything manly that Alex lacked—and was waiting in the parking lot to kick Alex’s butt even now. The thought made Alex rebel. Screw him. It wasn’t like Alex had done anything with Vivian. He hadn’t even kissed her.

As soon as they reached the copy room, Vivian shut the door, pushed Alex up against the copy machine and kissed him.

Alex pushed her away. “No…no…You’ve got the wrong idea.”

Damn. He was a little drunk, she was sexy as hell, and this could go south fast, so he fumbled in his pocket for a picture. It was a nine-month-old baby with big blue eyes, sitting in front of the Christmas tree. Lynn had taken it just last week, to put on their holiday cards. He held this between himself and Vivian the way a priest would hold up a cross at an exorcism. Even if his marriage to Lynn had been a mistake, which they had both realized too late, Alex wouldn’t cheat on her, or desert her, for the sake of that little boy.

“That’s my son,” Alex said. “His name is Bradley. So we can’t… you can’t… I can’t....”

“Aw.” Vivian took the picture and tucked it back into his pocket without looking at it. “That’s so sweet.”

She grabbed his suit lapel and pulled him closer. “It just makes me want you more.”

“Look, Vivian…”

Her grip was surprisingly strong, and he couldn’t break free when she began nuzzling against his neck. Alex thought she was giving him a hickey, until he died.

…and this year won’t be anything like last Christmas.