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Part 1—How to Meet a Vampire

Vampires are a hot commodity on the dating scene. Generally considered attractive, their powerful eyes, super-human strength, incredible longevity and skills in the bedroom are world-renowned. But like the elusive creatures of the night they show in movies, a single vampire is hard to find unless you know where to look.

The very best place to meet a vampire is at a social event, like a party. Parties offer the chance to…

—Excerpt from VampLure Magazine

Chapter 1

Have you ever had an inexplicable attraction to a certain type of person? Maybe you fawn over brunets, or men over six feet tall make your knees weak. For me, it’s vampires. Just knowing that someone is a little long in the eyetooth and favors a neck bite over a brownie bite reduces me to a blubbering puddle of drool.

Why vampires? Well, let’s be real here; they are all—each and every one—extremely hot. Modern books and movies get the idea right. Vampires have perfect, glowy complexions; they don’t get dark circles under their eyes; they don’t have to deal with dandruff or canker sores; vampires never get bloated, wrinkled, saggy, or pimpled. Not to mention the fact that vampires take creating other fangsters seriously. Who would you pick to turn into the undead so they’d live forever among your kind, your average looking run-of-the-mill human—or the exceptionally beautiful?

Unfortunately, by the time I reached my thirty-second birthday I had yet to meet a single, datable male vampire. Since I work in a bridal shop the unmarried male vampires that I’d met were all about to head down the aisle and weren’t available for sexy fun time with me. And since vampires marry often enough to make it a little less special each time and have weddings only to appease their human fiancée’s family, they didn’t exactly bring along single, fang-bearing groomsmen.

I was lamenting my bad fortune while working one night when Craig—a married vampire, friend, and mailman—stopped in to deliver the evening’s mail. I heard the tinkle of the bell above the bridal shop door just as I finished hanging up a pink tulle nightmare of a dress that a delusional middle-aged bride had tried on. Oh, she wasn’t delusional because she was middle-aged and getting married, she was delusional because pink tulle wouldn’t look good on Gwyneth Paltrow, much less on a five-foot three-inch overweight woman with a ruddy complexion.

I put on my Hello, yes—I am Josie, your sophisticated bridal shop employee smile-sneer only to find Craig carrying his mail sack and staring intently as he separated out the mail that was for us and that was for our neighbor, Little Tony’s Pizzeria.

“Hey, Craig. How’s it going tonight?” Craig and I had an almost identical conversation every night. I liked talking to Craig; he was about five feet ten inches tall, with short blond hair and a perpetual five o’clock shadow, solidly built and easygoing. In life, he had been a farmer and he never really lost that average-guy approachability.

“S’okay, Josie. How’s the bridal biz?” I knew Craig didn’t actually care about how business was. He also didn’t care a thing about weddings in general. Craig had been married for thirty years to his wife, Sandra. She was his fifty-second bride, which shows that even a vampire can be of the marrying kind.

“Same as always. Well, except that it’s my birthday today, yet here I am working. Happy birthday to me?”

“Oh man, no, your birthday? I didn’t get you anything. Oh, but hey—I got something you can do tomorrow. We’ll call it a birthday present from me to you.”

“Why? What’s so special about tomorrow night?”

“You haven’t heard? Gregory Bullster is in town. He’s an old friend of mine, going back five centuries. He’s throwing a big bash over in his new condo on Beach Drive. I can’t go, I gotta work. Why don’t you take my invitation?”

Gregory Bullster was on Forbes’ list of richest vampires. He was famous, hot (well, I didn’t actually know what he looked like but anecdotal evidence abounded), and super successful. Naturally, I was intrigued, thrilled, and about to pee all over the tacky blue carpet of the shop from excitement. “Craig, that would be awesome! That would be awesome!”

“Well, sure, I’m glad I was on the route tonight.” He added with a slight smile, “I bet there’ll be a lot of single guys there—hell, even Gregory is single.”

The time I spent at the shop had taught me exactly how to meet single vampires. Through many conversations with successful brides-to-be I had it on good authority that parties were the best place to meet hot vampire bachelors. Unfortunately, I’m not really fashionable enough to be in the know about these kinds of events. Vampires generally live extremely long lives while simultaneously amassing a great deal of wealth, and the wealthy and beautiful are a bit (okay, a whole lot) out of my league.

This meant that Craig was giving me the golden ticket into a vampire hot guy factory that I might never have the chance to enter again. My eyes were starting to glaze over at the thought of it. I imagined myself as a thinner, more feminine Augustus Glut trying to lick all the vampire hotties and eventually falling into a moving stream of them.

Craig rooted around in his mail bag past the Sears catalogs and bills from Florida Power and pulled out an envelope with a ragged flap. It was cream colored and thick, textured, and lined with gold foil. He handed it to me and I took it on my palms like it was as delicate as the Dead Sea Scrolls.

I fingered the light texturing on the surface and rubbed my thumb on the cool, smooth foil inside.

“Craig, this is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me.” I breathed the words as if speaking them in louder tones would ruin the moment.

Craig laughed. “Josie, you know that’s just the envelope, right? You haven’t even looked at the invitation yet.”

I screamed and slowly ran my fingers into the envelope and felt the hard edge of an invitation card. I eased it out, wanting the excitement to last as long as possible.

Eventually I had the entire card removed and I closed my eyes to steady myself before taking a peek. I looked down and found a simple card in that same ivory color with gold script text announcing the party of Mr. Gregory Bullster. Tomorrow night, 8 PM. I shivered with anticipation.

I don’t really know how long I stood there slowly tugging the card out of the envelope, molesting it with my eyeballs, then slowly easing it back into the folded paper container, but when I glanced up Craig was staring at me and looked like he needed a cold shower. I blushed and turned away.

“Well, I, uh, guess I gave the invitation to the right girl. When you go make sure you tell Gregory that I sent my regards.”

Now Craig had done it. He had charged me with a task that meant I couldn’t spend my night standing against the wall like an observer. Instead, I simply had to talk to Mr. Rich and Single Vampire Guy.

But first, I had to figure out what to wear.

*****

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