Vampires

The Reformed Vampire Support Group by Catherine Jinks

By Catherine Jinks

Imagine vampires are romantic, horny, and strong? re-examine. Vampires are lifeless. And except they wish to finish up staked, they must surrender fanging humans, admit their dependancy, subscribe to a help staff, and reform themselves.

Nina Harrison, fanged at fifteen and nonetheless residing together with her mom, hates the Reformed Vampire aid team conferences each Tuesday evening. no matter if she does savor Dave, who used to be in a punk band while he used to be alive, not anything intriguing ever occurs. that's, until eventually one in all crew contributors is mysteriously destroyed via a silver bullet. With Nina (determined to end up that vamps aren't dead or vulnerable) and Dave (secretly in love with Nina) on the helm, the misfit vampires quickly band jointly to trace down the hunter, keep a werewolf, and preserve the realm secure from the likes of themselves.

The excellent anecdote to slick vampire novels, this murder-mystery comedy of error will thrill fanatics of Evil Genius.

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Why? Because from dawn till dusk, whatever the time of year, a vampire is clinically dead. If you examine me during the day, you’ll see no movement whatsoever: no heartbeat, no brain activity – nothing. I look like an extremely fresh corpse. As for what I feel like . . well, it’s exactly like being anaesthetised. Exactly.

Silver bullets over the Internet, for fifteen dollars each plus postage. ‘Here it is,’ said Dave. ‘Here’s the trademark. ’ It troubled me that the demand for silver bullets was big enough to sustain a viable business. ’ ‘Of course not,’ Horace rejoined. For a moment I actually thought that he might have something insightful to contribute. But then he drawled, ‘Most of these people must be after werewolves. Though they probably wouldn’t draw the line at shooting the odd vampire. ’ Horace has an irritating habit of teasing people as a form of stress relief.

Nobody knew. Not even Father Ramon. Horace began to claw at his hair. ‘This is bad,’ he shrilled. ’ Dave was getting antsy. ’ If he hadn’t started jerking me out of the room, I would have agreed. For all we knew, Casimir’s killer was in the neighbouring apartment, waiting to pick us off, one by one, as we made our exit. For all we knew, Bridget and Gladys and George were already dead. But I hate the way people assume that I’m brainless, just because I look like a kid. I hate the way they keep pushing me around.

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