Saturday Book News

 

The Sacred Order of St. Vlad Wants You!

As the rise in Vampire activity grows, The Vlad Academy is accepting applications for our Fall Term. Now, you too can be the Slayer you’ve always wanted to be. Attend our accredited classes that can set you on the fast track to be staking Vampires at will. Thanks to Federally sanctioned grants and loans, the curriculum offered by St. Vlad’s is at an all time low cost. With the creatures of the night banging on the door, why would you wait for them to knock on your door? Take up the challenge of being the next ‘name edited out due to copyright infringement’ and slay them before they put the bite on you.

Anyone can be a Slayer. That includes you sitting there in your beanbag surfing the net looking for pics of Colin Ferrell. Yeah I mean you. Just read the following testimonial if you don’t believe us.

Love At First Stake

Availabale now from:

J. Morgan

And

Desert Breeze Publishing

Excerpt

“Madam, are you aware you just shoved a sizable stake through my heart!”

I found this to be a most peculiar question since I had — in fact — just slammed that sucker home. Perhaps I’d located the only halfwit Vampire in town to go up against for my first time as an officially sanctioned Slayer of the Holy Order of St. Vlad. It would certainly explain how easily I’d taken the dirty bloodsucker down. Not to say I’m not a fantastic Slayer, but this being my first night on the job I doubted it resulted from anything but dumb luck with a smattering of innate skill. Then again the stupid Vampire theory could prove to blow that out of the water but I didn’t want to focus on that aspect. It was time to focus on the important issue.

I’d just taken down a flipping Vampire not three hours out of the gate!

The euphoria from that alone would quell the little voices pointing out all my inadequacies.

Oops, I had better get back to the Vampire. He was getting a little squirmy. Sitting back on his rock hard stomach, I gave the stake another tap in hopes that the vamp would get the idea he should be dead by now. Or, at the least, stop mumbling obscenities about me under his breath.

Note to self: Try not to think about the rock hard abs or the pokey thing tapping at my back door that was not a stake but just as hard. Both were distracting me, and quite frankly, Slayers shouldn’t be thinking about jumping a Vampire’s bones, especially when they’re in the process of killing them.

“Ouch! That friggin’ hurt!” He slapped at my hands as I added a twist and spin to my tap-tap-tap.

Maybe next time I should bring a rubber mallet or something. The threat of carpal-tunnel haunted the careers of many a promising Slayer, and unfortunately wasn’t covered under our current health plan. If we had a union, this wouldn’t be an issue, but serving a higher good came with certain drawbacks. An inadequate health plan being one of them.

“I should hope so,” I growled through clenched teeth as I tried not to lose my seat. “I’d hate to think I staked you only to have you enjoy the experience.” But with creatures of the night, you really couldn’t be sure. They sucked blood. Who knew what kind of freaky crap they might be into?

Watching him squirm around, I found the lack of him turning to smoke — or a decent pile of ash — disconcerting to say the least. This being my first time actually slaying, I hated to admit it, but I could have missed the heart. You’ll understand if my nerves weren’t all they should be at the moment. Training aside, being this close to a real live vamp had my knees knocking a Tommy-Lee-worthy drum solo. The fact he looked so normal threw me, too. If he had the common decency to look icky, I’d at least know to start screaming my head off. Instead he looked like a cover model. The only thing I was truly afraid of was throwing my legs open and saying “Take me!”, which would kill any chance I had to get First Time Slayer of the Month. Not that I expected to have that honor, but you got a spiffy trophy and a gift card to Starbucks.

Back to work. I gave the wooden missile a good shake, waiting to see if it might pierce an artery, or at the very least, puncture something other than my hopes and dreams. In my defense, the textbooks never actually said what part of the heart you needed to hit. For all I knew, you had to wiggle the thing around until the heart turned all soggy and squishy. Or, maybe using ash had been a big mistake. I’d always thought a good piece of maple did the trick, but the guild only pays for ash. Until I got a few paychecks behind me, I was a slave to The Man. For all I knew a stake took a while to work, like when you take an antacid. Those things take for-friggin’-ever to work. As much as I hated it, I’d just have to stick around until he died.

Bummer, Idol went into the final round tonight.

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