Add this to your summer reading list.

Vampire Maman



Writers, Poets, and Deviants (WPaD) have come out with their 11th Short Story Anthology and I AM DOING THE HAPPY DANCE.

A bloodthirsty refrigerator…
A murderous pothole…
Legends of mysterious monsters…
Ghosts and magic…
And much more!

A chilling collection of stories from the twisted minds of Writers, Poets and Deviants:
Volume 3 of WPaD’s popular Creepies series.

by WPaD(Author), Mandy White(Author), Diana Garcia(Author), Marla Todd(Author), Michael Haberfelner(Author), David Hunter(Author), Mike Cooley(Author), Soleil Daniels(Author), Lea Anne Guettler(Author), Debra Lamb(Author), and more!


This anthology includes stories that will scare you silly, make you think, maybe even make you laugh.

And as with all WPaD anthologies, proceeds go to MS charities.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman


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The Radiator

Love this


Ice Princess picked up Solar Guy’s weapon: The Radiator. Even with the solar power cell removed, Ice Princess had to be careful handling it. One wrong touch could singe her fingers down to the bones. It could theoretically melt her bones.

Of course, she had never tested that theory. It sounded close enough to the truth and she was content with believing it.

The Radiator always reminded her of him. Solar Guy with his perfect physique, his golden blond hair.

The Radiator always reminded her of how hard she had fallen for him. In retrospect, it was inevitable. They were such polar opposites. Of course, they had to fall in love and, when that went wrong, they had to become mortal enemies.

They were incapable of neutral ground. It was either love or hate. Unfortunately, hate won the day.

Killing him was likewise inevitable and she had done it so…

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Notes on Lillian Hellman

Lillian Hellman has always been one of my favorites (and one of my idols.) She was truly brilliant.


Like many of my other posts on major American playwrights (most recently Tennessee Williams), this is adapted from my personal notebooks. I don’t deal much with biography here. It’s mostly critical ruminations inspired by Hellman’s writing. 

Lillian Hellman (1905-1984) is one of my (guilty) favorite American playwrights, combining intelligent dialogue with big, memorable characters and juicy, melodramatic villainy. Hellman always dares to go into scary, risky territory…it seems to be her principle delight, dragging us into the horror. She is the heir apparent of all those writers of 19th century melodramas…no expressionistic tricks with form and structure for this dame. And yet for her sheer theatricality and her straightforward storytelling she is yet another playwright I vastly prefer to the supposed lion Arthur Miller.

Hellman’s paramour Dashiell Hammett was Hellman’s well-known editor and muse, but it seems pretty clear (to me) that he was more than just an…

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Robinson Crusoe

Some poetry and adventure for all ages.

Vampire Maman

I read this to my children when they were young and I still love it. Forget them. I love it.

OK, I know you came here for vampire stuff. Blood, lust, gore, sex, more sex, adventure, wit, beauty, tits, more blood and lust…I get it. OK I really do get it. I’m into all of that too, but it’s been a long night and I’m drunk on fresh hunts (blood ok) so Juliette, vampire maman, just wants a little silly poetry charm. Work with me on this. You’ll thank me for it later.

Blood, lust, passion, desire, parenting advice, ghosts, vampires, werewolves and paranormal romance ALL to come next week. I promise. Really I do. Just read the poem. Let me share.

Robinson Crusoe’s Story

THE night was thick and hazy
When the ‘Piccadilly Daisy’
Carried down the crew and captain in the sea;
And I think the water drowned…

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Nantucket Sound

Awesome story!


The first time Shelly saw the house, she fell in love with it. A two story ranch beach house on Nantucket Sound. Her and Bob will be able to move in after the wedding. Shelly always wanted to live on the water.

Seventeen days later, with the stress of the wedding over, they settled into their new house. Shelly had to spend that first night alone because Bob was unable to get the night off. He was the night time ER doctor at Nantucket Cottage Hospital.

Around mid-night Shelly woke to a rapping at the door. Ignoring it, she tried to fall back to sleep, but it kept getting louder. She peeked out the window next to the door. Shelly did a double take to make sure what she saw.

Shelly had herd stories, but thought they were only myths. It looked like a man covered in sea weed, but…

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Frogs, Love, and Hell

Summer is here. Please check in on those who need a little bit of extra help. Heat can kill.

Vampire Maman

I believe I’ve used the frog story before, but I shall tell it again.

Put a cold cast iron skillet on a cold burner on your stove. Gas works best. Place a large, live, cold blooded frog in the center of the skillet. Use a good sized one – 10-12 inches. Turn on the heat ever so low, then gradually turn it up. The frog will sit until it gets blazing hot and it’s feet and belly stick to the cast iron and it is cooked.

This is what happens to people in this heat (we’re expecting over 100 all week and over 110 F on some days). Elderly people and others who are not always aware will sit in the heat like the frog until they cook. They’ll forget to jump out of the pan, or in the case of some folks, forget to turn on the air conditioning…

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Gone In A Flicker


It’s so hard to be married. Waking up to the same guy day after day. Dealing with all of his stupid moments and all of his faults.

Why doesn’t he ever tie up the bread bag?

Why can’t he lower the toilet lid so the dog doesn’t get into the toilet?

Why can’t he take his dirty laundry downstairs himself? Why do I have to do it?

Why do I have to do everything around here?

Why can’t he chip in for once?

It’s just.

Just so many little things that annoy me about him. So many things I wish I could change about him. No. Things that he should change about himself. Why should I do all of the hard work?

Why does it always come down to me doing everything?


It isn’t that I don’t love him anymore. I do. I guess I do.

I just wish—

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