Original URL: http://davidhburton.com/?p=3808
Felt nostalgic today and thought I’d share an old Sesame Street episode that’s been running through my head. Enjoy!
The next night, under the light of the full moon, Jim transformed into the monster that had taken everything away from him. As the beast, he had full knowledge of its actions, but control was lost. After a hundred years he had learned to influence the beast, but in the end, it was a wild animal whose actions were unpredictable. As a former man of the cloth, he would never gamble with an innocent life so he chose this existence. To live among the dead and allow the beast to release its destructive impulses on those it could not harm.
He winced. “The last one was a disaster.”
“The Cultural Revolution was not a disaster!”
He glanced at the woman at the next table who had looked over at the outburst. “Keep your voice down, beloved.”
She laughed and glared at the woman who looked away with all the British embarrassment bred into her for generations. “It wasn’t a disaster,” she whispered across the table in a mock conspiratorial tone.
“Millions died!”
“But it was so interesting.”
Though anaesthetized, her body jerked, as her arms struggled upwards as if trying to grab some air. Then she was gone. Feeling for the pulse, he found none. One less whore to pollute the earth, he thought.
I understand you got a bit of negative feedback because 1) your heroine takes a while to accept the existence of vampires, and 2) she isn’t an ass-kicker. Would you like to talk about those issues?He lowered his mouth to within an inch of mine, and I twisted my head to the side, shifting away from his hot, unpleasantly sweet breath. He grabbed my chin between his thumb and first finger, holding tightly enough that I knew there’d be bruises, and forced my face back level with his. “I’m Bryce. I believe you’ve heard of me.”“Stop it! Let go of me. . .”He swallowed my words with his mouth, clamping his lips on mine with enough pressure to cause my teeth to break the skin on the inside of my lip. Then he sucked my lower lip into his mouth, holding it with his teeth until I made an involuntary yelp of pain. Only then did he pull back, giving what could only be called an evil grin, and gazed at me with his dark green eyes, which seemed suddenly magnetic. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. I literally couldn’t. It was as if his eyes were pulling me. I managed to briefly squeeze my eyelids shut, and he dug his fingers into my chin again, jerking my head roughly. “Open your eyes,” he roared.My eyelids flew up and his eyes were directly in front of mine, the green darker than before, almost black. I fell into them and felt the edges of my vision blur – a strange haze settling over everything – as part of my mind drifted off on a cloud.
Lucius: “They’re straight from the underworld, by the way. They are everlasting. They won’t die.”
I interviewed you for The Skull Ring a couple of months ago. Tell me about this new book.“Maybe ghosts are like clouds on a windy day. The ether merges in tapestry—then is torn away, and all you were is never again. A memoir writ in invisible ink.”
The inspiration for this story was very personal. What other of your books have been written from personal experiences?As she looked down to stop her tears, each note of each chord he hit on that old piano rang through her heart as if they were living, viable things.I’m not a poet, I’ve got no money,
My words are riches to make you swoon
I’ve got this heartbeat, and my piano
They’re my offering to you
Jerusalem, 33 A.D. The vampires of the era have long sought to gain a foothold into Israel, but the faith of the local Jewish population has held them in check for centuries.
She looked up at him with her dead eyes. The coach was dark, and she could only make out the indistinct shape of his face in the shadows. “Stop talking to me.”
He laughed, “You’ll feel better after we kill someone.”
“I’ll feel better after I polish off a bottle of wine.”
“Whatever vice you prefer.”