Suffer Not The Little Children
by
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Although we have never met I am unable to resist writing to you; I want to tell you, however inadequately, with deep admiration and delight, I'm happy you've read my book, it is beautiful, yet strange, it's part of a series of Vampire love and lore, and my strange novels are filled with beauty, yes, it is, although it's mostly about the Horrors of Love and we all know that exists, there is no little exaggeration I can think of to say that I do not remember when I've been so moved, so profoundly and so excited, by the writings of a different kind of love, it should, however, also appeal to the people who live on Beautiful Avenue and those who live on Skid Row. Perhaps it is so. but what actually interests me is not the geographical detail but in the evidence that there are such creatures Zombies, Phantoms, Wolfman, Dracula. Michael Myers, Ed Gein, and Victor: the ultimate Vampire, in this close-up & in-your-face novel I'm making him extraordinary and very skilled as a gifted gentleman who makes hisself well-known with his handsomeness and generosity, and in general, his need to be human and father children. His wise and far-seeing intelligence has winds of popularity, it's sad to think that you, the reader, personally, shall never be privileged to meet him but sometimes I'm wrong in my musings. When the moon is full and the stars are hiding, and, if you're in the right place at the right time, he will be there also, inches behind you, unheard, unbreathing, and then you stop and turn around as you smile.
Children of the Vampire are more naughty than nice; it depends upon your version of what's good and what isn't, but it's jolly good fun to sit outside on a warm resting-rock behind the stables and bite the heads off the newborn mice, of which there are many, when children are sired the father wants to make them as he is; a Vampire, whose spirit is trapped between Heaven and Hell, and thus, this is the one simple fact that is staying the decision. The electric air around Gravesend Castle is brilliant as the moon's tiny jagged streaks dazzled them to temporary blindness. They draw green and black crayon mustaches on the DaVinci paintings and statuettes once worth millions. They play games with wooden stakes, crucifixes and magnifying mirrors; they chase each other in the sunlight and turned quickly enough to watch their shadows run away.
However they also enjoy Andrew Lloyd Webber's music and from some of the long-dead people: Beelzebub, as well as Rachmaninoff and Beethoven. In an instant of silence another gust of wind wafted through the doorway, bringing with it a scent of carrion as they jump up and run out, following the wind as it got stronger and stronger, then they saw it, it was the pungent odor of an unwashed woman and they all turned their heads as they inhaled the muted bittersweet smell of her blood, "Type O, our favorite, but we can't have a go at it, let's drag her into the basement for Daddy, he'll be pleased for the extra afternoon snack between meals!" It was like bringing a frostbitten man to a Florida Vampire, icicles, popsicles and frozen yogurt...what a wonderful treat on a ninety degree day filed with the songs of Bing Crosby.
But Victor's daughter, Violette, was not this type of child; she loved the outdoors, she was a real-live Angel to her Grammy, a diamond to her Daddy and an annoyance to her Mommie, and, to everyone else she was a pain in the ass. "I am not an immortal although 1 was fathered by one." Daddy often stepped back to admire his handiwork when Violette was dancing, her head to one side, her arms swinging in circles, then they'd go limp like a marionette's, the weight of her slim limber body was performing
"Rattle them bones!" Daddy would say as he sucked in a deep breath, he glanced about nimbly, seemingly bothered by something. He excused himself for ten minutes as he set aside his Book of Love. He came back after his kill at the side of the road: the man put up a bloody good fight, guess who won? He
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About the Book
When the curtain of terror is raised we pass through dark cemeteries filled with mauve cactus flowers dripping with sleep. There were no clouds or fog, yet the landscape was utterly black around the dark Satanic Vultures, perched, waiting. Is this how you like your daily dose of horror? Good! Grab a stake, a fistful of garlic and a Dark Rose as you enter my ultimate world of nightness. This series is about Victor; the most handsome Vampire to ever walk the earth; he's a man to either live for or to die for, he falls in love with a Manhattan Vampiress: Raven, he's elegant; she's homeless, he's sensuous; she's taut. The screams(excuse the typo)'scenes' are deliciously revolting with an undercurrent of never-ending chills, based not on the usual folk-lore but a new type of horrorification, Death's so close by you'll feel its breath on the back of your neck, he thinks that fear is life, fear is love, so one must welcome and embrace the horrors of love. Victor flitted from NYC to Gravesend, stopping for a moment as his soft lips kissed another, feeling nothing but a faint tugging as a tendril pulsed obscenely and squirmed through his mouth into hers, drinking thirstily from her veins: it was a Romeo and Juliet scene from Hell! His lust for living-blood supplies the vigor of his waking existence. Victor's children and Yellow Eyes, a cougar, live in a castle where even Angels fear to tread! The soul of this novel equals the Devil's midwife perpetually assisting at the birth of uselessness, but there's nowhere else to go, all the true ways are known. I'm in the habit of regarding these sadistic sensation-seeking readers as Dark Angel Spectators.
About the Author
This is the third book in my Vampire Series, #1 is DAUGHTER OF THE DARK, and #2 is RELECTIONS OF A DYING VAMPIRE, and this, #3, is SUFFER NOT THE LITTLE CHILDREN. I, too, was born and raised in Lancaster County, I've lived here all my life; born on a Sunday afternoon during a thunderstorm, like the Frankenstein monster. How do you like your horror? For those of you who are unfamiliar with Vampires I want you to know about my world; it's just like the one we all live in except for the difference in the night creatures, myself included, there were always monsters, werewolves, zombies and such since the earth began, and this book is not necessarily another work of fiction, they're here because I co-exist happily with them, but not always peacefully; especially now that I know them all a 'bit' too well!