I wasn't really going to write a book, but the more I thought about it the more the idea appealed to me. So, here's chapter 1.
Sexy Vampire Book
Beatrice was moving to the Pacific Northwest. She had lived in Phoenix, AZ for many years with her mom Patty and Patty’s boyfriend Karl, but over the years Beatrice had become increasingly despondent with her life in the desert southwest. It wasn’t the scenery, weather, or anything of that nature. Karl had night terrors. (Written by Steve Adami - click the monkey).
Did I mention that Karl’s night terrors were entirely in Spanish?
“Necesito un medico!”
Sometimes, late at night Karl wandered the house in his night terror state pretending he was a Bolivian nun and the orphans were trapped in the convent while it burned to the ground. Beatrice was great friends with 911 dispatch, the responding officers and medical personnel. Good times. (Click the DARN Monkey!!! Story by Steve Adami)
So, Beatrice was moving to the Pacific Northwest. Her father lived in Iowa as a Hen Teaser, but that has nothing to do with the story. An astute reader may be asking themselves, “Why the Pacific Northwest?” or “Why am I talking to myself instead of reading?” and maybe even “Where are my pants?”
Seattle sounded pretty. That’s it. Teenagers don’t make decision based on sound logic. Come on!
Sexy Vampire Book - Chapter Two - Written by Steve Adami - click the links people!!
In an effort to be cool and divert attention away from her 19th century moniker, Beatrice decided to go by “Betty”.
Very cool. Attention diverted.
This wasn’t a legal name change. She simply introduced herself at school, court trials, and her AA meetings as “Betty”.
The Pacific Northwest was beautiful. Especially Betty’s new home in Seattle. Green, cool, and wet. Very wet. Almost unbearably wet.
Despite the incessant and oppressive amount of moisture, Betty was gradually falling in love with her new home among the hippies, disgruntled loggers and dock workers that also called Seattle home.
Betty had not received any money from her mother, Patty, or Karl. Their available resources went towards Karl’s legal council and a full time Spanish-English translator in order for Patty to read the transcripts of Karl’s night terrors.
Despite Betty’s meager finances, she had managed to find herself a modest 25000 square foot villa overlooking Puget Sound. Betty was frugal, so not too many servants. She kept the 50 member garden staff and a few trainers to tend to the horses. Bare bones, really.
Betty also purchased a modest fleet of European vehicles to get to and from school. Ironically, Betty never drove herself to school. Her chauffeur managed these duties.
Betty attended Madam Berkshire’s Up the Cream Bun and Jam private school. Madam Berkshire’s was only a few miles from Betty’s meager estate.
Betty kept a full range of classes and extra-curricular activities including:
Vampires: Sexy Mates or Bloodsucking Fiends
Mormons: Sexy Fiends or Bloodsucking Mates
Sexy Fiends: Bloodsucking Mormons or Vampires
Seattle: God’s Armpit
What To Do if You’re Driving Along a Deserted Road, Your Car Breaks Down, and a Sexy Vampire Stops to Help You.
Betty was sitting in the bleachers watching the school basketball team play field hockey. She was so engrossed with the game, she didn’t notice Edwin sit down beside her.
“Good evening, Betty,” Edwin bowed his head as his greeting rolled off his lips.
“Oh, hi Eddy,” Betty was surprised and her pulse rate quickened. It was a known fact that Edwin Balthazar Dwight Malfeasance III was one of the cutest boys in school.
“What are you doing here?”
Edwin did not attend Madam Berkshire’s Up the Cream Bun and Jam. He lived a short way away that way (pointing east as the albatross flies). Most likely in some abandoned gothic ruin in the middle of the woods. Well, there was no “most likely” about it. That is where he lived. The place wasn’t his, but he moved in anyway and kicked out the werewolf squatters.
“I noticed that your convoy has not arrived yet,” Edwin had a terrible sexy habit of rolling his ‘r’s. He sniffed the air, sexily.
“Sorry,” muttered Betty.
“No. It’s not you,” Edwin quickly interjected. Sexily interjected.
It was. Betty was basically a pig.
“The match is almost expired. May I offer you a ride home?”
Betty’s head was swimming. Any other offer from any other boy on any other night would not be nearly as sexy as this offer.
“Sure,” she squeaked.” Let me grab my lawn care equipment.”
As Betty and Edwin made their way across the empty parking lot, something something something. A noun, a verb, and a sexy description of something by Edwin, because he was so sexy and who really cares what they were thinking about or looking at. Not me and I’m writing this!
“Let me get that for you.” Edwin snapped his fingers and the trunk of the car popped open.
“Wow. That was so sexy,” cooed Betty.
“I know,” said Edwin. “Everything I do is sexy.” He stepped towards Betty. “Whether I’m fighting werewolves, walking around in broad daylight at your school, or spending cash, it’s all sexy. And you and every other female age 12-45 buys into it.”
“Buy into what?” Betty was breathless. Literally. Her heart stopped and she ceased to breathe. Why?
BECAUSE EDWIN IS A FREAKIN’ VAMPIRE AND HE CHOMPED DOWN ON HER THROAT, THUS RENDERING HER DEVOID AND BEREFT OF LIFE!
IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW YOUNG AND SEXY HE IS, HE’S THE UNDEAD AND VAMPIRES ARE THE LORDS OF THE UNDEAD.(Written by Steve Adami) VAMPIRES DON’T WALK AROUND WITH YOUNG GIRLS, WOOING THEM WITH GIFTS AND FEATS OF STRENGTH. THEY LIVE IN CRYPTS AND DRINK THE BLOOD OF THE LIVING. THEY DON’T FALL IN LOVE, THEY’RE NOT ROMANTIC, AND THEY DON’T CARE ABOUT HUMANS OR HUMAN EMOTIONS!
Honestly. What the hell(Written by Steve Adami, of Ogden, Utah; social security number 9230-724-1986P) is wrong with you people? Sorry for shouting, but I’m just sayin’.
- Steve Adami (1975-2003) r.i.p.