?Question?

Ok, someone please tell me how I could possibly switch the blog posts to read oldest to newest? please?

Chapter 2: Heading for the Circus

There is something you have to understand about vampires. We are virtually indestructible, and our reflexes are crazy quick. Oh, and there is not one DMV that I have found that will stay open twenty four hours. So, for one, we do not have licenses to drive. Two, we happen to be very nervy and very crazy-ass drivers. We slip into the silk covered racing seats of her gloss black Viper after I gather the important things out of the piece of shit. Kikio-dono spots the folder on top of the pile.
"Your job?"
I jerk. "I was not aware that you know about what I do."
"Every vampire knows.' She throws the car into gear and whips out of the parking lot. "Especially the ones that live in fear of the day that you arrive to collect a bounty on their head." We fly through five yellow lights and hang a right onto 7th Avenue. Horns blare and she only waves to them.
"You have no reservations about killing. Neither do I."
She slams on the brakes and slides to a stop in front of my chiropractor. It's a five story building. He's on the fifth floor. There is a broken window on our side of the building, on the opposite end of the hallway from his office. Anyone putting two and two together yet? She obviously does.
"So, is this where you fell out?"
She rolls the car into a parking stall and parks, leaving the car running. The vibrations from the huge V-12 engine are doing wonders for more than one part of my body. I do not feel any pain from my back anymore. Then again, it could just be that adrenaline is surging from being so close to death.
"Yeah." I rub my neck. " I saved his life. But there was a slight misunderstanding. Now I get free work cause he feels bad."
"He owes you his life, Dylan."
"I know."
"Does he know what you are?"
I glance at her. "Yes."
Kikio-dono sighs. "You are one odd vampire, Dylan Cole. You really are."
I smile at that. "Yeah, I know." I look down at my Rolex. "I'm a half hour early."
"I know." The way she says this makes my nerves tingle. Oh no.
"What's going on?" I say this with as much force as I can muster. Surprisingly, I feel better asserting myself than just going with the flow as I was.
She sighs softly. "Dylan. As I said before, we have similar tastes. We are alike in many ways." She twists around to look at me, and in the light of the street lamps, she looks so god damned hot.
"We could be excellent partners."
My brain stops processing. The earth ceases to turn on its axis. Everything skips a few beats. And just as things start coming back into focus, she puts her hand on my lap and squeezes gently.
"Yes, that would be grand."
Right now, I don't know what to do. I am going nuts. If I start to speak, all that would come out would be a squeak. So not what I want to say, really. That doesn't mean I freeze up totally, either. My hands pull her close to me and I kiss here, allowing my fangs to come out. I can feel hers as well, which makes me wonder if this is a trap. Not like I care right now. I'm in heaven, kissing a devil in a red silk dress. I really couldn't give a damn that I could die right now. I just continue kissing her. Apparently she likes what I am doing, because she slides closer, putting our bodies in close contact. She then pulls her mouth away from mine, prompting a whimper from me that makes her giggle. Her hand has not moved from my pants, massaging and kneading this entire time, bringing me to full mast. She frees me from the confines of my black jeans and starts to mover her hand up and down, twisting at all the right moments. Kikio-dono looks into my eyes. "Do you like this, Dylan?"
"Oh, god, yes. Just don't stop. I might kill you if you do."
My breath is coming out in ragged gasps, and I still can not wrap my brain around this. That doesn't stop Kikio-dono from wrapping her luscious red lips around my cock.
"Oh, my god." That is all I can say for the next ten minutes as she gives me the most mind-blowing blow-job I have ever had, and I've been around for a while. My hands have a mind of their own, going straight for her voluptuous breasts, caressing and stroking the softness through the silk dress. Hell, they were even more sexy hidden by the fabric! Her other hand grips my right thigh tightly as she moans around the head of my main man. The vibrations are enough to set me off. My hips jerk and I fill her mouth with semen. Kikio-dono moans with satisfaction, and brings her head up. She looks at me with fire in her eyes. I know what she wants to do. I grab the back of her head, mindful of her updo, and kiss her. She opens her mouth and I slide my tongue past her lips, playing with her tongue and my come. Then I get a wild idea. I probe around until I find her right eyetooth and puncture my tongue. My blood mingles with the come, and she does the same with hers. We snowball come and blood for a minute, then we both swallow.
Suddenly, she pulls away. "Dylan, meet me back here when you come out. I need to feed."
I smile. "Of course, Kikio-dono." I stuff myself back in and open the door. "I am going to leave my things here." She nods and I get out and shut the door. She backs out of the space and lays rubber. I am left with her blood in my mouth and feeling very, very good.


I arrive at the chiropractors' office at around midnight, shaky and wired for sex, blood, and other things that I can not think about right now. I knock once, and hear shuffling behind the door.
The night I saved this man's life, I was only out to hunt. I entered the building through the fire door on the third story, looking for bums who wouldn't be missed. What I found was a dead elderly lady. She obviously had been a tenant here. Not anymore. Her eyes were still open, and her face was twisted into a horrific death cry. I could smell the blood, rusty and thick within the confines of the staircase. I inched closer and saw the knife wounds in her belly. She died very badly. I reached out and closed her eyes, angry that I wasn't there to stop this murder. That's when I heard a commotion above me, on the top floor. I crept up the stairs and paused at the fire door. On the other side, I heard some punk yell, "Fuck you, old man! Give me your fuckin' cash!"
Robbers. God, do I hate greedy humans. I knew that I was on the right side; the voices were right behind the door. The 'old man' was the furthest away, whimpering, "Please, don't . . . I don't have any money . . . leave me alone. Don't hurt me, I'm blind."
Oh, now I was mad. I heard a slap, and I threw open the door. I knocked the first assailant out with the heavy door, and I attacked the second one, ripping his throat right the fuck open. I was no longer wanting to feed, and I definitely killed him right off. I was not worried about the old man seeing me. Unfortunately, the elderly black man figured I was one of the bad guys and laid a good one on the crown of my head with his cane. Stunned, I backed away, right into the one I had knocked batty. He had the knife, which I found out the hard way when the fucker stabbed me in the back, right above my kidney. Agony shot through me, and then instinct kicked in. I was still reeling from the can whack, but I grabbed punk number one and threw him out the damned window. At the last possible second, the son of a bitch grabbed the front of my t-shirt and dragged me out with him. I tried to catch myself, but to no avail.
The last thing I remember was the sound of breaking glass. I don't remember the fall itself. I woke up in a room, on the floor of what looked like a doctor's office. The old man was sitting in front of me on a chair. His eyes were on me. They were kind of fuzzy, but I still saw that he had brown eyes. They were looking right through me, which made me nervous, but then I remembered that he was blind. He couldn't see me at all. I chanced my voice.
"Where am I?" The words came out as a croak. The man held out a glass of water. His face looked apologetic.
"Sorry. I couldn't find any blood. I apologize for hitting you."
I shook my head, an a shock of pain shot through my body. Oh hell. "What the hell happened?"
"You fell out of a fifth story window. I was afraid that I had caused your death. But when I found you on the lawn, you were somehow still conscious. You told me a lot of things."
"Like what?" I was still fuzzy.
"You told me that you were hurt. You also said that you are a vampire, you were one of the good guys, that you would heal, and that a hospital was out of the question. Then you passed out. I examined you. The fall caused a lot of damage. A cracked skull, a broken clavicle, and you broke almost all of your ribs. Some of your vertebrae and your pelvis were also cracked, and I was afraid that you had internal injuries. Once I managed to get you into the elevator and into my office, you had healed most of the wounds. I couldn't believe it. And now you are awake, so I can see if you have a concussion."
I sigh. "No. I don't. And I appreciate the help, sir, but I must go now." I didn't bother telling him that he knew too much, and that I would probably have to kill him. Humans shouldn't know about our kind, that's what my sire told me. It is better that way. What the fuck ever. I made my decision rather quickly. I wouldn't kill this old man, not after what he already went through. No, I just wouldn't show my face around here anymore. But that gave me pause. The only problem with that is that when I was around, the other asshole vamps never showed their ugly fag faces. I kept the murderers at bay. I couldn't do that. Oh crap.
"Why?" The black man in front of me could not ever understand what really goes bump in the night. Crap.
I tried to pick myself up off the floor and failed. Shit. I sank back down. "You should have just gone. Left me alone."
"I couldn't do that. Not after you saved my life."
Uh-oh. Trouble. "Well, like I said. Thank you, but I should really be going now."
"I don't think you can leave yet. Not in this condition. Besides, I owe you-"
"Don't say it. Don't you dare. Once you say it, you can never take it back!"
"-my life."
Shit. SHIT! Shit. Now I do get up. "Mister. You don't owe me shit. I'm leaving."
"The least I can do is give you free adjustments."
Wait. What? "Adjustments? What the hell are you talking about, old man?"
"I am a chiropractor by trade."
My eyes bugged, and I laughed. "Wait. Let me get this straight. You are a old blind chiropractor who is willing to give pro bono adjustments to a vampire who just fell out of your window? Are you on crank or something?"
He smiles warmly. "No, I am not on drugs. And I am serious."
Oh boy.


So here I am, waiting for the man to come to his door. He did say midnight, right? Or did he think it was a joke and meant noon?
The door opens to reveal my chiropractor.
"Hello, my friend. How are you tonight?"
I shake my head. "How do you know it's me?"
"You smell the same, and you just confirmed your identity."
The room beyond the man had no light, but my preternatural senses quickly adjust. I peer in and see a hallway. "May I come in?"
"Of course." He backs away to allow me past him. His office is also his home, and the old saying that a vampire can only cross a threshold if invited is actually true. Something to do with the gates of Heaven and Hell or some shit like that. I don't know. I personally don't pay attention to that kind of thing. The only reason I remember some of the old lore is because my sire Andrew pretty much drilled it into my brain. But anyway, since this is my first visit, while conscious anyway, I need to ask permission. Besides, it's just plain good manners.
I walk over to the office portion of the apartment, passing a desk used as a workspace. Everything is so precise, so neat. This man is blind, I remind myself. This pretentious neatness is necessary for him. Poor guy. It makes me extremely conscious of my own enhanced senses.
"The examination room is on your left, my friend." I jerk out of my reverie. He mistook my hesitation for being lost.
"Just call me Mr. Cole, Doctor. And thanks." I walk in and flip on the overhead lights. The chiropractor table beacons me, and I slip off my jacket. I turn to face the man as he enters the room. "So, how do we do this? Do I lay down, or what, here?"
He smiles at me. "Face down, Mr. Cole."
I climb onto the table, face down as instructed. My face fits into the depression on the headrest, and I almost feel comfortable. But I still want to protest the whole crazy idea.
"You know, Doc, since I am a vampire, I am pretty sure that my back will heal itself. You don't have to do this." I almost add, 'for me', but I hold off on that.
"Well," he says, "I find that since you saved my life, I need to pay you back, just like I told you that night. This is the only way, since I really have nothing else to offer. I am part of the reason that you were hurt in the first place, am I not?"
The logical part of my brain has to agree. But it is also telling me that I should have killed this guy in the first place. I wouldn't be in this situation if I had. But the human part of me kicks the logical part in the sack. First and foremost, I do not EVER kill an innocent. That is part of my moral code. And second off, damn it, I do not like asking someone for help.
I hear the latex gloves snap on, and I am reminded of my one and only proctology exam. I say only because I fucking decked the Army doctor that did it. I had a good reason too. He said that I was fuckin' GAY! Just because my sphincter wasn't as tight as the others. Fuck him. I am not gay. Just open-minded. I shake my head to erase the memories trying to form, and focus on making small talk as the doctor steps up to the plate.
"So, you know my name. What's yours?"
"Emmett Lewis."
Okay, good start. "Okay, Dr. Lewis. Nice to meet you in better circumstances. You know, I don't blame you for the misunderstanding. Hell, you are blind. How could you know that there wasn't another man there, trying to stop those assholes from robbing you?"
Dr. Lewis slides his hands down the length of my back, feeling for the tight, damaged muscles. "I still feel bad. I should really get a guard dog."
"Hell, at least a seeing eye - Ow!" My pain level spikes, and I wince. "Shit, that hurt!"
I hear him mutter, "Oh dear."
"What?" I try to lift my head and crane it to see him. Let's just say I don't succeed.
"Your L2 and L3 vertebrae are chipped. Probably caused by the fall. L3 is also cracked. I am positive that is the cause of the pain that you just experienced. The pieces of bone are actually poking and tearing at the muscles of your lower back from the inside. Since you heal rather quickly, you don't notice it as much as a normal human would. In fact, a normal human would not be able to walk at this point."
I laugh. "Hell, a normal human would be dead from the fall, not worrying about a broken back."
"That would be true, Mr. Cole."
We share a chuckle. I get off the table. "Well, Dr. Lewis, it seems there is nothing you can do for me right now." I feel a twinge of pain, but I ignore it. "You gave it a shot, and I appreciate it. To be honest, I didn't think you could do anything anyway. I'm a vampire. I'm not sure normal chiropractic care would help me."
Dr. Lewis takes his gloves off. "It would seem so. I am sorry I couldn't help you."
"Goodbye, Doc. I'm taking off now." I walk out of the room and towards the front door.
"Wait!"
I jerk to a stop and turn, jacket half on. He is standing in the hall, with a hopeful look on his face.
"What?"
He steps forward, then stops. He's wringing his hands. He's gonna ask for money, I know it. I start to take out my wallet, thinking that a hundred bucks will cover what he needs.
"Mr. Cole, I know this will sound odd, but I would like to know more about you."
I peer at him. "What?"
"Honestly, I do. Could we talk? I would like to. I am afraid that I do not have very many friends, and I am sure that -"
I stop him. "Wait a minute, Doc. Just hold on. I understand that you don't have a lot of friends, but I know for damned sure that you can do a hell of a lot better than having a vampire as one. That's just not good for your health. I know that I saved your life, but that was a fluke. I was looking for someone to feed off, and I just happened to come to this building."
The old man nods. "Yes, I know that, Mr. Cole. But don't you think that it was fate?"
Whoa. "No. Pure luck on your part." I take a deep breath. "There is nothing that you can gain from being friends with a vampire. Especially me. I'm warning you now, Doc. Forget about me. Stay in at night, and get a damned dog. Please. For your own safety."
I turn to go, but Dr. Lewis stops me again. "Please. Take my number. Just think about it. Please?" I sigh.
"Fine." I turn, and he holds out a scrap of paper with a printed number on it. Like an idiot, I take it. "I will think about it. But do not be surprised if I never call."
"I know. Just knowing that you thought about it will make me happy."
I shake my head. Now I really feel sorry for this poor fool. "Whatever. Thanks." I walk out to the foyer, and he stops me again. This time, I look at him.
"Mr. Cole, I am an old man. I have always been blind. I have lived my life without fear. I look forward to talking with you." He then motioned me to the door and I opened it and exited without incident.
As I walk down the stairs, my back twinging all the way, I smile. For all his talk about no fear, despite his disability, he never once turned his back on me.

Chapter 1: And So It Begins . . .

Beep. Beeeep. Beep. Beeeep. Be-
My hand snakes out from beneath the covers and silences the dollar-store alarm clock. I grab it, squinting at the LED display. 9:15 PM. Slowly, I open my eyes, letting the neon rays of the city pierce my retinas with their ambient glow. The remnants of a hot summer day past have all but vanished by the time I drag my ass out from under the comforter. Rubbing the sleep sand from my eyes, I swing my feet to the floor and curse, recoiling from the cold concrete. I finally stand. My back is popping like bubble wrap and I can feel the pain starting. Good thing I have a chiropractor appointment at midnight. Maybe he can do something about it. I stretch, and the pain really starts.
"Yay," I mutter.
I shuffle, half naked, to the kitchenette and pull open the mini-fridge. I groan. There is nothing in it but Corona, Coors Light, a head of lettuce, O negative and A/B positive bags, and cigarettes. I can't believe it. I hate having a roomie! Lazy, disorganized, not to mention that the bastard keeps stealing my blood and my Johnny Cash CDs.
Roommates suck.
I shut the fridge and resign myself to go out and feed. I don't enjoy that at all. Maybe I can find some old homeless wino. The mere thought makes me cringe. Forget it, I'll just go and pick up a damned chump-change vampire. Moving to the stereo, I flip through the collection of CDs that I have found over the years. What the case was doing on top of the fridge, I will never know,but . . . wait. Why the hell do we have LETTUCE? I shake my head and go back to looking through the CDs, and what do you know! Johnny Cash is gone. Again. I take a deep breath.
"Damned son of a-!" Aw, hell. Screw the whole lot of it. No point in crying over it. I grab my Rammstein out of its sleeve,throw it into the player, close the top, and press play. Of course, I blare the damned thing. I smile when the downstairs neighbor starts banging on the ceiling of his apartment. I turn back and go to the couch. It's one of those pull-out dealies. I whip the comforter off to reveal my roomie.
Keith is snoring, sound asleep. His tight, lithe body instinctively curls into a fetal position when the blanket disappears. But that's it. Between the cold air pouring from the rickety air conditioner and the heavy metal thunder, I figured he'd wake up or at least grumble for fuck's sake. Damn, I swear that vamp could sleep through a mortar attack! I climb back onto the couch and spoon against his back, my own toned body conforming to his shape. Keith moans and reaches for the now non-existent blanket. I grasp his hand, conscious of my immense strength, and lay it back down. Doing so makes him growl deep in his chest, much like a tiger. Shivers go down the length of my spine. Then I get an idea. Devious as it is, I like it. I know how to wake this little piece of meat up. I crane my neck around so I have a perfect shot at his tender neck. Just this simple action awakes the hunger; I can feel my eyeteeth pushing through my gums. Slightly painful, but forgettable. I open my mouth, lean down, and brush his neck with my fangs. Then I settle my lips on his soft skin, sucking and nibbling. Keith stiffens at this delicate teasing, but does nothing to stop my vampiric assault on his neck. I continue caressing and licking, bringing his hot blood ever closer to the surface, and then let my hand wander to the front of his jeans, massaging the growing mass between his legs. This makes him groan and move his hips back, bumping my own penis, which has grown with excitement. I slowly unzip and unbutton his jeans and take his dick out into my expert hand, stroking and tugging gently.
Keith tries to tun over now, but I block his attempt with my body. That's for later, love. I stay silent. My teeth make quick contact, and he moans as I draw my tongue over the superficial wound I make. I taste blood, sweat, and his adrenaline. His hand finds its way to my boxers and tugs them down, unleashing my raging hard-on. I pulse in his hand as he lavishes my main man with attention. My nerves light up. My breathing becomes ragged, and I almost can not control my hand on him. But I calm a bit, gather my control over the situation again. Keith whispers my name and pushes me onto my back, but I am ready for this. I flip him onto his back and run my entire torso against the head of his dick. Keith moans and grabs my hips. I ignore this (with IRON WILL, mind you) and continue my assault on his neck, spicing up the encounter by thrusting against him at the same time. My excitement grows too fast, and Keith only makes matters worse by grabbing my balls, rolling them in his hand. Holy shit. That does it. My involuntary jerk sends my teeth plunging past the thin barrier of his skin. Keith freezes, paralyzed but the shock of adrenaline and pain coursing through his veins. I wrap my hands around his shoulder and neck, going for the feed . . .
The phone rings.
"Son of a fuckin' A!" Keith moans sadly as I get up, blood dribbling out of my mouth and off his collar bone. Of course, I have to answer it. Could be my 'employer'. I grab the handset on the fourth ring. "Yeah?"
Silence, then, "Meet me at the Palacade in one hour." Click. More silence. Fuck.
Keith had sat up by the time I hang up. "Business?"
I nod. "Sorry, love. Maybe we can finish this another time?"
He smiles and motions me forward. I do so, and suddenly he grabs my ass and pulls me down on his lap, his dick standing between my legs. "Fuck me first." His neck is still dripping blood, so I lean forward and lap at the stream. "A quickie."
"Fair enough," I growl.



An hour later, I am well fed and at the Palacade, which is exactly what its name implies. Are you rich? Powerful? Famous? Infamous?
This place will make you cream in your panties.
I stand at the base of the marble staircase and look up at the gilded entrance. You can taste the glitz and glamour. Let me tell you, it is a bitter taste at best. A lady sheathed in a mink fur coat and stilleto heels breezes past me, smelling of expensive perfume and even more expensive tastes. I catch a glimpse of a Chihuahua in one jewel encrusted hand. I shake my head, disgusted. Ah, well. I adjust the fit of my red silk tie and smooth down the black cotton dress shirt I just bought. I then check my clack jeans for lint and my matte black wingtip shoes to see if one had come untied. Finally, I slip off my black leather bomber jacket, drape it over one arm, and adjust my silver ring. I smooth back my long black hair and tie it back with a red hair tie. Yeah, I know. Typical vampire style. But I love it.
Okay, ready to advance into the decadence of the Palacade. This had better be good, or I am going to knock Lorenzo Fuentes through the roof.
You see, Lorenzo Fuentes is my 'boss', for lack of a better word. Well, actually I can think of a lot of words to call Fuentes, but none are for prime time TV. He handles my contracts and what-not. In short, I am a killer for hire. A hit-man, if you will. Death merchant, mercenary, and other names. My weapon of choice? My teeth.
I spot Fuentes, who seems to be enjoying the company of two pretty bunnies. It helps that he is a good looking, smooth talking man, like me. I have something he does not, though. Let's call it 'vampiric charm'. As I walk past, women of all ages and races follow me with their eyes. Some stop eating, some even pause conversations to gawk at the dark, handsome wraith that sweeps past them like out of a romance novel. I even grace the better looking ones with a sidelong glance, and then I am gone. Just like the movies. I move through the sea of warm human bodies, feeling sick to my stomach. I hate human decadence and vice!
I arrive at the table. I don't wait for an invitation. I pull out a chair and sit down directly across from the man. Fuentes shooes the women away, but they take their time, sharing giggles and stealing glances at me. Believe me when I say that I really don't like this kind of attention. Finally, they walk away, undoubtedly talking about Fuentes and his really hot 'friend' that they would really like to 'get to know', if you know what I mean. Whatever. I glance at him. He's looking at me with a smile, but there is no mirth in the way his lips twist. This bastard is a predator, just like me. He just plays the game a little differently.
"Bold as always, Mr.Cole."
I snort. "You think I am bold, Fuentes?" I look around us to make my point. He only folds his hands, his elbows on the glass table. His dark grey suit does a bad job of concealing his gun and his bulk. I shake my head. "This had better be good, Fuentes. I've got an appointment at midnight and you disrupted my meal."
Fuentes laughs. "Of course it's good, Mr. Cole. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have called you." He reaches beneath the table, and I flash my fangs as warning. "Relax, Mr. Cole." His hand reappears clutching a cream colored folder with a clasp. My work papers. I detect a slight tremor in his hand as he slides it to me. Good. One lesson learned tonight. I take the folder and slip it under my coat, which is on my lap.
"All the information you need is in there. Do with it what you will. One million cold hard American currency. No headlines unless unavoidable."
I laugh, amused that Lorenzo would think that I couldn't pull off a hit without headlines. "There will be no headlines, Fuentes. You know better than that."
"Yes, but our mutual friend does not."
I shake my head. "Very well. Where will the money be?"
"He says that he will pay up front. He is that confident in your skills."
Good. That's the way I like it. I nod once and stand. Fuentes raises his hands.
"What? Are you not going to stay and sample the grand selection of drinks they offer here?"
The girls have returned, and the smile I give the death broker could freeze flame. "No."
"Why not?"
"I don't like the clientele." I look around for good measure. "Too thin blooded. Goodbye."
I walk away.


Once back in my Toyota Camry, I review the papers. What I see, I don't like. Not one bit.
Raul Juan Costas. Multi-billion dollar corporate scum. Makes his living destroying people's lives and livelihood with big, big, BIG company contracts and mergers. Annihilates both mom and pop businesses and huge corporations alike. And this little shit has it all, and more! Surely, he must have pissed off someone along the ladder of success and excess. My smile is cold as I look further into this bastard's file. The women, the money, the cars, high tech banks backing every move, the front corporations hiding all kinds of nasty shit . . . oh, man. This man is mine! This is going to be just fantastic! Hell, I'd off him for a Klondike Bar! I can taste this one! Yummy. . . I turn the key to the electronics setting and switch on the radio. Molly Hatchet is singing, 'Flirting with Disaster', and I laugh. Soon, very soon, this man is going to be finished. I slide everything back into the folder, set the folder down on the passenger seat, and turn the engine over.
Nothing.
Wait . . . what? I blink a couple of times. What now? I try again. The damned thing chugs and coughs, and I start sweet-talking. "C'mon, baby, you can do it, just start for me sweetheart, Just start for me . . ." The engine promptly dies. " . . . bitch."
I have got to get me a new car. I get out and slam the door harder that I wanted to, and the door falls off. I stand still for a moment, then I have a conniption.
"Fuckin' hell, you mother-fucking son of a bitchin' fuckin' piece of donkey fuckin' SHIT!" I begin to beat the holy shit out of my crummy $300 car. I'm too pissed off to notice people starting to stare. But what the fuck do I care? I now have no god damned transportation to any-fuckin'-where! I don't hear the honk behind me, but I do notice the sleek black 2009 Dodge Viper rumble up next to my punching bag. Now, who could this be?
Suddenly, I know. Oh, crap. My attention is caught as the door opens , revealing one silky, exquisitely olive tinted leg, the another. Then time stands still as the rest of her body follows. My eyes begin at the black lacquered toe nails, then move up the frail looking ankles; they travel up the legs, pausing to relish the red kimono dress with side slits up to the hips; I allow my blue-grey eyes to drink up the luscious curves of the torso and fully developed and oh-so-sexy breasts, fully covered by the taunt silk of the dress; then finally I behold the essence of beauty personified.
"Kikio-dono." I can hardly contain the huskiness of my voice. My loins are officially on fire. My blood is on fire. My nerves - ditto. This five foot ten inch Asian goddess is possibly the most dangerous of our kind. Ulp. It feels very odd to be in love, horny, and terrified simultaneously. The worst thing of all is that she can sense all of this. Double-ulp. Kikio Asumaki-Nikko laughs, and my brain and heart both melt. The tone of her voice are bells to my ears. But that laugh is usually the last thing that both mortals and vampires hear. That doesn't exactly make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
I just get even hornier.
Dylan Cole could possibly die right here, and the mere thought makes him horny. Wow, I am special.
"Dylan-san." This is said simply.
I now have my boys under control, if not my fear. "So, how are you tonight?"
"Good. I see you are having car problems." She flips a lock of that fantastic hair away from her face.
"What?" I look around, and then my brain starts to function. "Oh, yeah! Yeah. That I am. It is kinda dead, you see. It will not start." Now I just go crazy. "So, yeah. I need to get to my chiropractor appointment in about . . . " I consult my watch. It is about eleven. ". . . an hour. Could you be so kind as to give me a lift?"
What the hell am I doing!!! I can not believe that I just asked that! She cocks her head to the left, and one immaculate eyebrow raises. "You go to a chiropractor, Dylan?"
"Uh, yeah. I do. Well, my back is fucked up. I fell out of a window from five stories, so, you see . . . " I run out of words. She seems to weigh the options. I think she realizes I am trying to show her my guts. Well, those guts are now in my throat, quivering in fear. Not my libido, no, of course not. That's jumping up and down, screaming, 'Fuck me fuck me fuck me now!'
Shut up, libido.
After a minute or so, she nods. "Very well, Dylan. I'll give you a lift."
My brain does a back flip. " Let me get my shit out of my car."
"What about your car, Dylan?"
I wave it off. "It's crap anyway. I don't care. Whoever wants it can have it."

This is the new story

Alright then. This is going to be the whole idea behind this blog. This is not going to be a daily thing, here, people. This blog is specifically for my story, As Simple as Blood. It is a story that is not meant for children. It is a very ADULT book. What I want you all to do, if you even give it a look, is to MESSAGE ME!!! DO IT! TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! These are things I need to know. Please. DO IT FOR ME! I am an aspiring author and I need FEEDBACK! I will have the first installment of As Simple as Blood on as soon as I get most of it down on the computer.

Thank you,

Jennifer Hutchins (otherwise known as Morgan Flint)