My Story

IMPORTANT SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT!!



So some people have heard and maybe some haven't.

If you're in the have not pile -- I have an annoucement.

I met a writer. Don't ask me how, it was a wierd cosmic fate kind of thing. She asked me if she could tell my story. My story? What the hell. I've tried to tell you people vampires are real, but I'm not sure I'm getting through. So . . . this sounded like another good way to try to spread the word.

The product of our collaberation is now available.

The writer's name is Rebecca Leigh. The story is about my last job in Bora Bora. If you're interested in reading it -- and trust me when I say you should -- you can find it here:

https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=132

I think she called the book "Have Stake, Will Travel" a title that totally sums up my life!

There's even a picture of me on the cover -- man, I feel like a celebrity!!

Bonjour Vampires, And Good Bye

I've been there before. Years ago.

Jackson Square. The Garden District. The French Quarter.

I was twenty last time I slayed a vamp in New Orleans. Right there, on Bourbon Street. The bloodsucker was having his way with a pretty little lost girl.

It was inevitable that I return to what many consider the birthplace of american vampires. Or is it jazz? The city's seen a lot since my last visit. So have I.

This time I got to see a side of the French Quarter not viewed by many tourists. I was undercover at one of the many gentlemen's clubs. And I'm not talking about the high priced places where the girls actually look like they take care of themselves. I'm talking about the seedy strip joints. The vamp I was contracted to kill ran a string of clubs that catered to bloodsuckers. Nude bodies ready for a lap dance or as a buffet, take your pick.

It didn't take long to infiltrate Pierre's Cabarat. The hard part was cozying up to the owner himself. But, like with all vamps, he was eventually more than willing to accept a willing neck. It's too bad that neck was attached to the body of a slayer. He died in his opulent, crimson covered office with a stake to the heart.

Laissez les bon temps rouler.

Next stop: Bora Bora. A tropical paradise in the middle of the pacific ocean.

My assignment: Take out on of the largest and deadliest vamp families in the world.

San Juan Slaying

I’d apologize for the delay in blogging about my adventure in Puerto Rico, but that’s life folks. Take it or leave it!

Oh yeah – it feels good to be back in the slayin’ saddle! The last trip may have been a bust, but Puerto Rico was hot!!

The archipelago looked like an oasis when I flew over it, surrounded by crystal clear turquoise water. White sand beaches, flowing green palms, and a warm tropical breeze greeted me when I disembarked the private jet. The hotel was posh and the people were friendly. But being enamored with San Juan only lasted until night fall.

Then, I went to work.

Two vampires were playing house in the old Spanish fort Castillo de San Cristóbal – St. Christopher Castle. The bloodsuckers had been hiding out there for several weeks, luring locals to the Devil’s Garita. An unacceptable practice in my book.

Apparently these creeps fancied meals of the male persuasion, so I had to work extra hard to lure them. My usual feminine ways eventually worked tho. They always do. It’s like I always say, vamps are suckers for sure things.

Needless to say, I gave them a ménage a trios unlike any they’d experienced before. Now they’re are blowin’ across the sea. The good people of San Juan are safe once again. For now.

I’ve been to Rio and Spain in the last week. Seven good kills added to my list, but jet lag that bites worse than a night crawler in summer.

It isn’t often I get a few days off to rest, so I’ll savor them. Then, it’s back to the good old U S of A. The next gig takes me to the American home of vamps – New Orleans.

Stay tuned . . .

Checking In

The flight over was smooth, as always. Got a look at the newest steward -- mmm yummy!

I'm checked into the Conrad San Juan Condado Plaza. Five star luxury. Penthouse, of course. Nothin' but the best for the top slayer on the payroll.

With a red eye, I'm stuck here all day before I get to scope out my next hits. I don't usually get much of a chance to site see on these gigs. Guess I'll take advantage of the opportunity.

But come sun down -- the action starts!

On My Way

I'm all packed and on my way in the limo to the jet to catch a red eye to Puerto Rico.

What does a girl like me pack for a trip like this?

Stakes, of course. And a few hot little numbers to lure my prey. Every outfit in my bag is short, tight, and leather. Damn vamps love that shit.

That Gig Was A Bust

Money's been a little tight lately.

Things have been too calm in the world of the undead.

Got sent down to some tiny red-neck piece of dirt in the deep south last week. By the time I rode into town, the damn bloodsuckers had cleared out. Bet they heard the I was comin'! There's not a vamp on either side of the Mississippi that doesn't quake in its fashionable suede shoes when it hears I'm comin'.

I'd rather they'd been there though. No vamps means no slayin' -- and that means no moola.

Don't worry about me -- I'm already signed up for the next gig.

I leave first thing tomorrow morning.

Puerto Rico.

Tune in for details --

The Truth

Did anyone ever tell you vampires aren't real? Your mother . . . you father?

I'm here to tell you right now, it was a lie.

If vampires aren't real -- I wouldn't be battlin' the damn bloodsuckers every night.

If vampires aren't real -- I wouldn't need to have a damn stake strapped to my thigh.

If vampires aren't real -- I wouldn't have a damn job.

I do.