Tuesdays with Mike and The Mike Beem Chronicles (12/12/2017): Zombie Beach

This short story is told in two parts.

Part 1: Mike and Captain

On the Coast, Mike runs into an old Sea Captain and they form an instant bond. Mike learns of Captain’s boat, his son and daughter-in-law. Captain is desperate to get off Carolina Beach, but there is a problem (and it is a big problem) the town is swarming with zombies. Mike decides to help the old man fight his way through the hordes in order to gain safe passage on his boat.

Part 2: Mike and Myrtle Beach

Alone again. Mike finds an old motel on the South Carolina coast and decides to call it home. While rebuilding his life and motel he meets some new friends, fights off countless numbers of zombies, and settles into his new life by the sea.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0736H6M52

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0736H6M52

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0736H6M52

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0736H6M52

The zombie Mike was about to shoot was an ugly sucker, and staring right up at him from the sand below. The zombie had the majority of the left side of his face torn off, huge holes in his neck and arms. He was dressed in pink and green blood-stained golf pants, spiked shoes, and dirty black golf shirt.

“Fore!” Mike screamed, and then shot the golfer zombie right between the eyes. The top of its head exploded, splattering blood and rotten brains all over the pristine white sand.  He looked from the dead zombie to the ocean, and then to the left and right. The gunshot had been loud, but it hadn’t sent the few corpses on the beach shambling in his direction. They seemed to be scattered, not hording together, trudging along with difficulty. A couple of zombies had even gotten stuck and as the water rushed in and around them, they found themselves in a hopeless situation where sand kept burying their feet and ankles over and over again.

Mike hopped down from the once white lifeguard tower where he had spent the night, and looked at the buildings around him. He didn’t see what he was looking for in the high rises and few beach homes that lined this part of the shore, so he moved on, reloading his pistol, eyes focused and ready for trouble.

What are the Mike Beem Chronicles? The Mike Beem Chronicles are a series of short stories that I wrote involving a character named Mike Beem. They are stories about hope, survival, and people trying to keep humanity alive in a world filled with the living dead. Descriptions for all six stories in this collection flow below. Enjoy.

A Zombie Thanksgiving: A short story about a woman who risks life and limb in a Zombie Apocalypse in order to keep the Thanksgiving tradition alive.

A Zombie Christmas: This short story is about three men who risk life and limb in a Zombie Apocalypse in order to bring happiness to surviving kids on Christmas Morning.

A Zombie New Year’s Eve: This short story is about Becky and Joe who are separated in a Zombie Apocalypse and risk life and limb in order to reunite for their New Year’s Eve kiss.

A Zombie Christmas 2: A boy lost. A family desperate. It’s Christmas in a Zombie Apocalypse and Mike Beem is once again aiming for another Holiday miracle. His goal this year isn’t toys for the kids in the neighborhood. His goal this time is trying to save one small life so another family doesn’t have to suffer the way he suffered.

Flesh for the Zombies:
When Mike Beem’s community is savagely attacked, he must exact revenge on those who wronged him. He must put aside all the good he has ever accomplished in order to become someone else. A man without a moral compass. A man without right or wrong. A man who is a cold blooded killer. Will he get his justice or will he die trying? The answers lie within the pages of this short story.

Zombie Beach: Mike Beem has given it all up and run off to live by the beach. Life down on the coast isn’t all that it should be. Days of lying in the sun are replaced with brutal survival. Mike does his best to not only survive, but to rebuild a life among the ruins of these beach side towns.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0736DX4CS

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0736DX4CS

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0736DX4CS

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0736DX4CS

Advertisements

Tales from the Blog (12/10/2017): A Vampire at Christmas 3

5 out of 5 stars: A deadly and dashing vampire

He wiped out entire families, communities, and towns, because when the blood called for him to feed, he answered it.

Then one snowy Christmas Eve, it all changed for him.

After finishing his feast with the father of a small family, he had ventured downstairs to wipe his mouth and look for anything of value. While he was rummaging through their safe, the splash of Christmas tree lights caught his attention. He turned to face it, and then saw all of the presents underneath. It was the children’s toys that intrigued him the most.

He walked over, and dropped down to his knees in front of the tree. He picked up a small red firetruck and then glanced to the upstairs area. The child he had so ruthlessly drained of blood would never hold this thing because of him. He paused on that thought for a moment, and then something happened to him, something that hadn’t happened in a very long time. He cried, and cried, and cried. He cried until the sun was slipping onto the horizon.

Unable to get home, he hurried downstairs, and buried himself deep in the basement floor. The next night, he slipped out without anyone noticing; and decided, while he hurried back to his home tomb, from that moment forward to make amends for all the wrong he had been a part of since he was born into vampire life. Christmas seemed like the best time of year to accomplish this new goal, and along with this new goal he vowed to kill only those who do evil and harm to this world.

Were there slip ups after this? Killing some who probably didn’t deserve it, sure, but those were during true feasting times, times when his hunger was so strong he couldn’t keep it at bay. He always felt bad after, but he had to do what vampires do. He had to live, and that life depended on the consumption of human blood, and the death of mortal life.

He grabbed his coat nearby, a Member’s Only Jacket from somewhere back in the Eighties, and slipped it on, zipped it up. He had bought up boxes of these jackets as they drifted off into the ancient relics of days gone by. They may look tacky now, but he really didn’t care. It was a jacket that fit his comfort and his style.

His vampire body rumbled with hunger. It was time to feast, and he was feeling especially hungry. He grabbed a heavy brown sack that jingled as he lifted it then made his way to the door with the sack slung over his back. He looked like Santa Claus – A Vampire Santa Claus – ready for his Christmas Eve deliveries.

He turned the door handle, pushed the door forward, and stepped out onto a small smooth landing. He closed the door to the tomb behind him, and looked up. Dirt stairs stretched upward as they climbed between bare Earth-filled walls.

When he reached the top of this set of stairs, Talan stopped and pushed up. A square patch of Earth lifted into the air, and fell gently onto the ground beside the hole. Talan tossed out the sack, and climbed out.

He surveyed the area. A soft white snow was falling, coating the dark forest, as it fell flake by flake to the ground. Talan smiled, first Christmas snow in a while. Hunger raced across his body again, instincts on high alert. He really needed to feed.

He put the patch of Earth back over the hole, stepped on it a few times in order to make sure it was in place, and to make sure if anyone stepped on it they wouldn’t fall through. Happy that it was secure, and that his home was safe, he picked up the sack, and started to move upwards. Before long, he was in the air, clothes flapping in the breeze, hair blowing out behind him, and gliding towards this year’s city of choice.

It was a cold December night.

It was a cold flight . . . to be continued next Sunday at 6 A.M. Did you miss a post? Check out the Category “Tales from the Blog” in order to catch up. Have a great Sunday.

Do you want to read the rest?

You can find it at the links below.

Amazon

US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

CA: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Draft2Digital

EPUB

Short Tales from the Blog

I now have a new website: shorttalesfromtheblog.wordpress.com.

I hope that this blog actually does take off like the one you are currently following. It is so hard to get a blog off the ground and keep it running. So much work, but I love the idea behind this blog. I also hope to start writing short stories for it that are 500 words or less. That is in the future. For now I plan to just post short stories I have written in 500 words or less until they are finished. If you decide to follow me over there I do appreciate it. I plan to give away a free short story to anyone who follows me on that site. Incentive. Desperate for attention. Who knows? I figure that if you are willing to take the time to follow me then the least I can do is reward you for it. I think that is fair enough. Okay, here’s my first post on that blog.

Okay, so I totally lied about that. I actually don’t have games on this blog, but I do hope to have some fun available for you when you come by to visit me on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 6 A. M.

Short history of how this blog came to be

I have a once a week post on my other blog called Tales from the Blog. It has been dropping on Sunday mornings for a while now. What I am doing is taking one of my short stories and posting it from start to finish in tiny post like bites. So, each and every week my hope is that my audience will tune in on that day in order to catch up with the next part of the story. I started thinking (and believe me that isn’t always a good thing) that instead of just Sundays that I ought to expand this concept to a blog. Short Tales from the Blog was born.

I was planning to start posting to this site in January of 2018, but I have a Christmas based short story that I thought would be perfect for not only this blog, but for this time of year. I thought (again, me thinking) why not just get this blog started in December. With that said, on Thursday 12/7/2017 I plan to drop into this blog the opening to The Lot. I will then continue posting it in 500 or words or less until the story is finished somewhere close to Christmas. And in case you were wondering, The Lot is a short story about a Christmas tree lot that is hiding some deadly evil intentions.

Yeah, I write horror stories and if you don’t like them then this blog probably isn’t for you. Well, I will shut up now. I hope you enjoy my stories told each Tuesday and Thursday at 6 A.M. in 500 words or less. Why 500 words or less? I don’t want to bore you with overly long posts. I figure unless it is sex, short and quick is the best way to do it.

Adios.

Would you like to receive a free copy of The Lot? Or how about A Zombie Christmas? Either one can be yours if you swing over and follow the new blog. Just send the info to zombiebeach3@gmail.com after you’ve clicked the follow button.

Tuesdays with Mike and The Mike Beem Chronicles (12/5/2017): Flesh for the Zombies

When Mike Beem’s community is savagely attacked, he must exact revenge on those who wronged him. He must put aside all the good he has ever accomplished in order to become someone else. A man without a moral compass. A man without right or wrong. A man who is a cold-blooded killer. Will he get his justice or will he die trying? The answers lie within the pages of this short story.

+

Fred climbed into the passenger seat, and when he looked out the window he saw two zombies shambling towards him. He pulled up his gun, and gripped the door handle, ready to step out of the vehicle with his gun blazing.

Two quick shots rang out, and as Fred watched, the skulls on each zombie exploded, showering the truck in blood and chunks of rotten brain matter.

Fred opened the door, gun drawn, and when he stepped outside he saw Double walking towards him. “What’re you doing down here?” He asked.

“Getting you out of a jam, thank you very much,” she replied.

“I appreciate it, but I had it handled.”

“You sure about that?”

He grunted, hating to admit she was right. “Since you’re here. Would you mind checking out Guard Tower 1 and 2? I’ll check out 3 and 4.”

“Okay. I’ll make my way on over.”

“Hey, Double, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks. You saved my ass.”

“Anytime,” she replied, and ran off towards Guard Tower 1, shooting at several zombies lurking nearby.

Fred watched the undead creature’s heads explode, and then made his way towards Guard Tower 3.

+

Did you know this was available as a paperback?

Get it and the EBook at the Amazon links below.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N6HMBY9

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N6HMBY9

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01N6HMBY9

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01N6HMBY9

What are the Mike Beem Chronicles? The Mike Beem Chronicles are a series of short stories that I wrote involving a character named Mike Beem. They are stories about hope, survival, and people trying to keep humanity alive in a world filled with the living dead. Descriptions for all six stories in this collection flow below. Enjoy.

A Zombie Thanksgiving: A short story about a woman who risks life and limb in a Zombie Apocalypse in order to keep the Thanksgiving tradition alive.

A Zombie Christmas: This short story is about three men who risk life and limb in a Zombie Apocalypse in order to bring happiness to surviving kids on Christmas Morning.

A Zombie New Year’s Eve: This short story is about Becky and Joe who are separated in a Zombie Apocalypse and risk life and limb in order to reunite for their New Year’s Eve kiss.

A Zombie Christmas 2: A boy lost. A family desperate. It’s Christmas in a Zombie Apocalypse and Mike Beem is once again aiming for another Holiday miracle. His goal this year isn’t toys for the kids in the neighborhood. His goal this time is trying to save one small life so another family doesn’t have to suffer the way he suffered.

Flesh for the Zombies:
When Mike Beem’s community is savagely attacked, he must exact revenge on those who wronged him. He must put aside all the good he has ever accomplished in order to become someone else. A man without a moral compass. A man without right or wrong. A man who is a cold blooded killer. Will he get his justice or will he die trying? The answers lie within the pages of this short story.

Zombie Beach: Mike Beem has given it all up and run off to live by the beach. Life down on the coast isn’t all that it should be. Days of lying in the sun are replaced with brutal survival. Mike does his best to not only survive, but to rebuild a life among the ruins of these beach side towns.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0736DX4CS

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0736DX4CS

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0736DX4CS

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0736DX4CS

Tales from the Blog (12/3/2017): A Vampire at Christmas 2

5 out of 5 stars: A deadly and dashing vampire

The tomb was silent.

Centuries had passed since that fateful night when Talan had been born into the world of darkness and shadow.

A naked, artificial, green Christmas tree (replaced every season) stood in one corner of this tomb; and there were no ornaments on this tree, no garland of any kind. The coffin he slept in was decorated with thick silver tinsel, and it draped and wrapped itself around this orifice of death like a shiny snake. Talan dared not play Christmas music because he was afraid of drawing attention to himself. People might discover his hiding place if they heard music playing up from somewhere deep in the Earth, no matter how far into the woods he made his lair. The tree and the decorated coffin were more than enough to keep him in a Christmas mood.

Talan raised the lid of the coffin (black, kind of rectangle, with gold handles and gold trim), stretched, and then pulled himself up and out of his bed. He was tall and lanky, six-foot five, turned to the blood at the ripe young age of 25. He had kind, softened, yellow eyes, smooth cream-colored skin, few wrinkles, and no facial hair. The brown hair on top of his head crawled down to the middle part of his back – clean and well-groomed.

He put the small item he slept with each night into the coffin and closed the lid. He took his small IPod out of his pocket, and slipped the ear buds out of his ear. He checked the battery. Almost dead. He found the power cord to it, and placed it along with the IPod into his pocket.

He took a moment to look around at his home tomb.

He loved it here.

The floors were made of a soft brown dirt. The walls and ceiling covered in grey concrete, streaked with dark spots of dampness. It smelled of vanilla, courtesy of a candle he lit each and every morning before he drifted off to sleep. There was a large door that protected Talan from the intrusions of the outside world. This door was solid thick granite, something only a vampire could move. Tacked to the wall in frames were small pictures of sunrises scattered throughout the world from mountains to beaches. He looked at these sunrises each and every night he woke up. It helped him to remember that once he was human, that once he loved, that once he was mortal. He found that by not going full vampire that it helped to keep him hunting evil doers. He was far less likely to attack good people if he could just remember that he once walked the Earth with a death clock in his head, counting down the hours until it was his time to perish.

While he stood in his dusty work boots and jeans, he adjusted his Jimmy Buffett concert shirt and tried to get his mind and body ready for this busy night. Buffett was an artist Talan always enjoyed listening to, and he found time to go see as many shows of this singer as he could. With his vampire skills, he was able to fly to any place Jimmy performed, slip in and slip out of the most secure areas, and enjoy Jimmy’s concerts in a way few fans have ever had the chance to do, hidden in the deepest parts of the stage’s shadows. It was such a fun show to witness. It reminded Talan of Christmas.

Talan had been following Buffett since the late Seventies when he had discovered the song “Margaritaville” playing on a jukebox in the back of a dusty bar, where he was having a small feast. As Talan drank freely of the drunkard in his arms, he had listened to the peaceful tune of that song, and fell instantly in love with it. Now, all these years later, he followed Buffett like any loyal mortal Parrothead.

By the way, in case you were wondering, that drunkard he killed that night –abused his spouse and his two children. He did things to them that were just, well, beyond words, and not worth mentioning. That’s kind of the code Talan lived by. Kill and drink from those who really deserve death, those who really are the worst of the worst. For a long time though, he was never like that. He had no one to train him, no one to teach him, no one to show him the right way and the wrong way to do things. He killed with reckless abandon, because his thirst and his hunger were just so strong that he couldn’t avoid it . . . to be continued next Sunday at 6 A.M. Did you miss a post? Check out the Category “Tales from the Blog” in order to catch up. Have a great Sunday.

Do you want to read the rest?

You can find it at the links below.

Amazon

US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

CA: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Draft2Digital

EPUB

Tuesdays with Mike and The Mike Beem Chronicles (11/28/2017): A Zombie Christmas 2

5 Stars out of 5: I dearly love this author’s short stories

A boy lost. A family desperate. It’s Christmas in a Zombie Apocalypse and Mike Beem is once again aiming for another Holiday miracle. His goal this year isn’t toys for the kids in the neighborhood. His goal this time is trying to save one small life so another family doesn’t have to suffer the way he suffered.

+

Mike lay in restless slumber, haunted by this world, haunted by the memories of those who had fallen, haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Donna Marie snuggled in close to him and stroked his long grey hair, trying to soothe him, trying to help him sleep. As she looked at him, lying there, she couldn’t believe she had fallen for a man who was just past 40-years-of-age.

Mike stirred, and opened his eyes. He turned his face to meet her eyes. She might have been 32, but her eyes carried the worry and trouble of so many who now lived in this world. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

“I worry about you when you’re out there,” she replied, as Mike held her close. “We’re working clogs operating in a broken clock.”

“Are you worried about me going back out for that kid, Tommy?”

“Not just that. Every time you go out I worry about you. I wish you could just stay here and let everyone else do the running. Lord knows you’ve done more than most in this world. Building this place alone qualifies you for that,” Donna Marie replied, rolling over and sitting up. She slipped out of bed and covered her topless body with a house robe. She walked over to the window and looked outside. The snow was no longer falling, but the ground was covered in a heavy layer of white. Somewhere close to a foot, maybe a bit more, she guessed.

Mike watched her for a moment, and let the cool air of the room settle in on top of his bare chest.

+

Did you know this was available as a paperback?

Get it and the EBook at the Amazon links below.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MF4WHII

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01MF4WHII

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01MF4WHII

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01MF4WHII

What are the Mike Beem Chronicles? The Mike Beem Chronicles are a series of short stories that I wrote involving a character named Mike Beem. They are stories about hope, survival, and people trying to keep humanity alive in a world filled with the living dead. Descriptions for all six stories in this collection flow below. Enjoy.

A Zombie Thanksgiving: A short story about a woman who risks life and limb in a Zombie Apocalypse in order to keep the Thanksgiving tradition alive.

A Zombie Christmas: This short story is about three men who risk life and limb in a Zombie Apocalypse in order to bring happiness to surviving kids on Christmas Morning.

A Zombie New Year’s Eve: This short story is about Becky and Joe who are separated in a Zombie Apocalypse and risk life and limb in order to reunite for their New Year’s Eve kiss.

A Zombie Christmas 2: A boy lost. A family desperate. It’s Christmas in a Zombie Apocalypse and Mike Beem is once again aiming for another Holiday miracle. His goal this year isn’t toys for the kids in the neighborhood. His goal this time is trying to save one small life so another family doesn’t have to suffer the way he suffered.

Flesh for the Zombies:
When Mike Beem’s community is savagely attacked, he must exact revenge on those who wronged him. He must put aside all the good he has ever accomplished in order to become someone else. A man without a moral compass. A man without right or wrong. A man who is a cold blooded killer. Will he get his justice or will he die trying? The answers lie within the pages of this short story.

Zombie Beach: Mike Beem has given it all up and run off to live by the beach. Life down on the coast isn’t all that it should be. Days of lying in the sun are replaced with brutal survival. Mike does his best to not only survive, but to rebuild a life among the ruins of these beach side towns.

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0736DX4CS

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0736DX4CS

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0736DX4CS

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0736DX4CS

Tales from the Blog (11/26/2017): A Vampire at Christmas 1

5 out of 5 stars: A deadly and dashing vampire

Talan Gawayn became a vampire in the 15th century on a cold, starry, full-moon night just after the first big snow of November. He was walking a less traveled path, on his way home from seeing his fiancé, whom he planned to marry the following spring, when three men stepped out of the shadows to rob him. He fought them at first, but they soon overpowered him, beat him ruthlessly, laughing as they did it, drunk and looking for someone to rob. They had found it in Talan who was so hopelessly in love he hadn’t seen them sneak up on him.

While he lay there in the snow dying from his injuries, one eye shut and swollen, the other able to see only a blurry vision, he thought he saw something, something moving quick and fast. The men who had beaten him were counting out their stolen money when this thing attacked them. It tore through their flesh, ripped out their throats savagely; and didn’t just drain the robbers of their precious blood, but this thing seemed to almost be bathing in it while it fed.

Talan tried to stay focused, tried to see what this thing was, but his will gave out and his good eye closed. He passed out into an injured slumber.

Weight.

Something heavy was straddling him.

Talan strained to open his one good eye, but somehow he managed to do so. And with all of his might, he looked up into the face of a man who was now looking down at him. This man wore no coat and was dressed all in black. He had piercing blue eyes, black hair that hung to his waist, and skin so white it glowed in the moonlight. His face, mouth, and cheeks were covered in fresh blood.

“Bad night for a walk,” the man replied, smiling, revealing his blood stained fangs, wiping the dripping blood from his face.

Talan didn’t respond, as he coughed up blood and struggled to stay alive, shivering in the cold frozen snow, thinking of his fiancé and wondering why he had left so late.

“Here’s the thing. I’m going to feast on you, and it will kill you before your injuries do, which they will do very shortly no matter how hard you try to stay alive.” The man paused, leaned down close. “I am going to make you an offer that I didn’t offer the other three guys, because I feel like you’ve had some really awful luck tonight. You deserve a little kindness from this stranger,” the man replied, taking another pause. “Here it is, death or immortal life. That is my one and final offer. Take it or leave it.”

“Are you a -?” Talan started to cough up blood again, and spasm violently from his internal injuries.

The man put his hand on Talan’s head, and calmed him instantly. “Yes, my dear boy, I am a vampire; and you have but minutes to live, please, chose quickly.”

Talan passed out before he could answer; and he lay in the snow like a corpse, flat and motionless with a shaft of moonlight spotlighting his face.

“Immortal life it is then,” the vampire replied, and then sank his fangs into Talan’s neck. He drained Talan slowly, savoring the tastiness of good blood, blood that was so much more different from that of the evil people (like the three dead robbers) in his world. Good blood had a salty sweetness to it while bad blood had a bitter after taste like a red wine that had gone sour.

When the vampire finished his feast, washed in a euphoric afterglow, Talan had but a few drops of blood left in his body. The vampire leaned down, and kissed Talan on the lips, a kiss that lingered for a second or two. While their lips were locked, the vampire punctured his tongue with one of his fangs, and then slipped that tongue into Talan’s mouth. He let the blood flow for a minute or so, and then unlocked the kiss.

Talan gurgled and choked, came to, swallowing the vampire’s blood even though he wasn’t sure he knew what he was swallowing.

The vampire stood up, and looked down at Talan. “Welcome to immortality. Sun will be up in a few hours, better make for the nearest crypt,” the vampire replied, and then was gone in a flash, racing back to his castle deep in the forest away from the world at large.

Talan felt his body respond to the vampiric blood, as it moved down his throat, into his chest, arms, hands, stomach, waist, legs, feet, and toes. It healed him, took him over, and replaced the pain and soreness in his broken limp body. He died, saw a brief warm light, and then came back to his now earthly immortal vessel.

An hour later, Talan was on his feet and moving, as dawn was starting to push its way into the night. He was amazed at how great he felt, as he stumbled through the thick forest until he found a small church cemetery. A cold crypt offered him rest and slumber, and he took it. He slept until the next night; and when he woke in the coffin beside the fresh corpse, a new world was upon him. He crawled out of the crypt, and said goodbye to everything and anyone he had ever known as a mortal.

He was ravenously hungry.

It was time to feed.

It was time to be a vampire . . . to be continued next Sunday at 6 A.M. Did you miss a post? Check out the Category “Tales from the Blog” in order to catch up. Have a great Sunday.

Do you want to read the rest?

You can find it at the links below.

Amazon

US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

CA: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00KRCCTU0?*Version*=1&*entries*=0

Draft2Digital

EPUB