A short of a short

Before it was cool to be a teenage vampire, I had attempted to write a short story about a family of vampires that move to New Zealand in order to reinvent their lives. Here's a taste, so to speak...



Isobel stared into stopped time. Nothing moved. Like a world made of plastecine, with only Juliet hurrying in the background. A performer miming dismemberment. Juliet playfully snapped a finger at the knuckle and gasped with delight as a soft spray of blood misted the air.

Instinctively Isobel opened her mouth and instantly felt the wet warmth sprinkle her face. She was brought into the present as she savored the ruddy iron.

The door opened.

"Girls what are you doing down there?"

It was mother. Wide-eyed, the girls looked at each other across the torso, searching for an excuse.

"Its a coven!" Juliet yelled up in mock-innocence. "We're just making an offering!" Followed Isobel.

The girls sat motionless as they waited for their mother's response. Satisfied, Mother shut the door and turned her back to the basement. But she knew. The smell of the newly deceased was unmistakable. And it carried with it the quiet sadness that was only particular to murder.