Atargatis In Alexandria

June 27, 2020 at 10:28 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

In the courtyard of the Royal Alexandria Hotel
she sat
the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis
on a late June evening in 1939

Although the sands of time
In various hourglasses
kept turning over
This way and that

The Egyptian god Thoth passed by
holding keys of Time
She saw a man named Quentin Talbot
encounter Thessalonike of Macedon
The half-sister of Alexander the Great
a couple of nights ago in the hotel ballroom

Then the scene shifted to a beach at Dunwich in Suffolk
where Thessalonike was about to sacrifice Quentin
to the old Celtic gods
on a June evening in 2020.

Dracul Van Helsing arrived to save Quentin
from being sacrificed
The next thing Atargatis knew
was she saw Van Helsing
making out with her own daughter Semiramis
In the upper bedroom
Of a Dunwich pub and inn.

Seated in an armchair and holding a spectral glass of spectral red wine
And watching the mortal-immortal sexual encounter on the bed
Was the ghost of Orson Welles
Who said,
Being a peep and watching this makes me feel like King Leer
A voyeur of some importance.

The scene vanished again
And she saw Adolf Hitler encountering Josef Stalin
In an Egyptian tomb
that had been transferred to the dungeon of Castle Dracula
in Transylvania

Hitler and Stalin were playing a chess game
For controlling America in the year 2020
The young Chinese Communist revolutionary Mao Tse-tung
dropped by
And told Hitler to use his white knight to crush a black pawn

Der Fuhrer like all racists
thought all Asians looked the same
And mistaking Mao for one of his Japanese allies
followed the future Chairman Mao’s advice

Stalin moved in for the kill
As Mao applauded
General Robert E. Lee’s battle flag of Northern Virginia
went up in flames across a map of the American south
Followed by the Stars and Stripes going up in flames
Across a map of the entire United States of America
Soon to be replaced by the Hammer and Sickle.

Atargatis leaned back on her chaise lounge as the combined scorpion and Phoenix fan above her kept her cool

A shadow fell across her.
She opened her eyes.
“Van Helsing, I presume?”
She said to the man standing alongside the chaise lounge.

Orson Welles’ ghost found himself in the Royal Alexandria Hotel courtyard
“Once again, I’m a witness… I’m a witness…”
He rang the bell alongside his chaise lounge
to summon the hotel porter to bring him a glass of red wine.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday June 27th
2020.

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Reblog of Renfield R. Renfield Uncovers The 3rd Secret of Fatima

June 26, 2020 at 10:39 pm (Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

It was 20 years ago today the Vatican supposedly released The Third Secret of Fatima. They didn’t. Only the vision not the text. In November 2018, I found the text of the secret in the full message of Our Lady of Akita to a Japanese nun Sister Agnes.

Dracul Van Helsing

Austrian Chancellor Sebastian Kurz made the announcement that a 70 year old retired Austrian colonel had been spying for the Russians since the early 1990s.

British MP Renfield R. Renfield had heard from his sources about the spy even before Chancellor Kurz had.

Renfield also heard from those same sources that the retired Austrian colonel had in his briefcase a copy of the original Third Secret of Fatima (a prophecy about the future that was supposed to have been spoken by the Virgin Mary Mother of Jesus to 3 shepherd children at Fatima, Portugal 101 years ago back in 1917).

Italian journalist Antonio Socci had made the claim back in the last decade that the Vatican had only revealed the vision associated with the Third Secret back on June 26th 2000. It had never actually revealed the words spoken by Mary to the 3 children he claimed.

Renfield had heard…

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Thessalonike of Macedon

June 20, 2020 at 10:12 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Quentin Talbot stared at the picture on his hotel room wall in The Royal Alexandria Hotel in Alexandria, Egypt.

The woman looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place her.

The radio in his hotel room was tuned to BBC World News and on it, he could hear the voice of British MP Renfield R. Renfield,

“Washington state’s Neo-Communist governor Jay Inslee is making it mandatory for everyone to wear a mask in public. You can’t enter a restaurant or enter a store without one. No doubt wearing a face mask is just the prelude to taking the Mark of the Beast by which “no man might buy or sell without it” as recorded in the Book of Revelation Chapter 13. It’s time for the American people to wake up and smell the Marx, Engels and Lenin in their coffee.”

Quentin Talbot decided he wouldn’t be returning to America any time soon.

He recalled an email he had received from a traditional Catholic aunt of his last year in which she had recounted an interview with the nun Sister Lucia (who as a child had seen the Blessed Virgin Mary along with two of her cousins at Fatima Portugal) that she gave back in the 1990s.

In it, she had said that the last great world power to fall to Marxist-Leninism would be the United States of America.

Since Marxist-Leninism had collapsed in Russia and the nations of Central and Eastern Europe back in the early 1990s, it would have been absurd to think back in the 1990s that the U.S. would ever fall to Marxist-Leninism.

Even as late as last year with uber-capitalist Donald Trump in the White House, it would still have been absurd to think the U.S. would ever fall to Marxist-Leninism.

However with the advent of the Covid-19 coronavirus, various Democratic Party Mayors and governors throughout the U.S. were starting to show their true Red (as in Bolshevik Red) colours.

Then with the protests against racism and police brutality, radical Jacobin style French Revolutionary mobs were tearing down statues and trying to erase all vestiges of America’s past.

At the start of any Communist revolution, any vestige of a nation’s past must be erased.

The BBC was now reporting live from Raleigh North Carolina that a group calling itself the Disciples of Lucifer would be holding a Luciferian March For One World Government in Raleigh and 8 other U.S. cities tomorrow June 21st on the day of the “ring of fire” solar eclipse.

Insanity must have just been let out of Pandora’s box, Quentin Talbot thought to himself.

He exited his hotel room.

The hall corridor looked different.

It was the same but looked different somehow.

He used the elegant staircase to go down to the lobby.

The lobby too looked the same but different.

A bell boy approached him.

“You are expected in the ball room, sir,” the bell boy said.

“What year is this?” Quentin Talbot felt compelled to ask.

“Why, 1939, sir,” the bell boy answered with a sincere smile and laugh.

As Quentin Talbot approached the ball room, he remembered where he had seen the woman in the black and white photo in his hotel room before.

It was at the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London last autumn.

It was an oil painting where the subject was Thessalonike of Macedon who was Alexander the Great’s half-sister.

Talbot entered the ballroom and there on what appeared to be a throne was seated Thessalonike of Macedon.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday June 20th
2020.

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Hermes, Ares and The Inca Vampiress Huchuysisa

June 19, 2020 at 10:49 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Ares the Greek god of war had gone to Miami to visit his brother Hermes.

Since the 12 Olympians, like most gods and goddesses of the world’s ancient pantheons, have all started using messenger apps on their smart phones, tablets and laptops, there was no real reason to use a messenger god like Hermes anymore.

Hence Hermes had retired to Miami.

Ares had gone to Miami to boast to Hermes about his actions in trying to start wars in various parts of the world.

Ares found Hermes lying on a sandy beach.

The messenger god was wearing dark sunglasses and covered in Coppertone lotion.

“So, what have you been up to?” Hermes lit himself a joint.

“Well, I’m trying to start a war between India and China,” Ares started reading off the list of his accomplishments, “Recently at the Galwan River Valley in Ladakh, I’ve had Chinese troops attacking Indian soldiers using iron rods studded with nails since under the terms of a 1996 bilateral agreement, neither side shall open fire with guns or explosives. At least 20 Indian soldiers are dead and of course Beijing is as usual quiet about the number of casualties on its side.”

Hermes opened himself a bottle of Corona beer and started sipping it, “What else have you done?”.

“Well, I’ve had North Korea blow up its liaison office with South Korea in the border town of Kaesong and my friend Lady MacBeth has been whispering in the ears of Kim Yo-jong (sister of Kim Jong-un) the acting leader of North Korea these days to say further military action against South Korea is on its way,” Ares smiled from ear to ear unbeknownst to the fact that he was being lusted after by a Catholic priest monsignor from a Basilica in Washington DC.

Ares then received a notification on his smart phone, “This is wonderful. Troops from Nepal have been put on alert in their border region with India.”

“You seem to be working overtime to start World War III,” Hermes helped himself to a cheese and tomato sandwich from his picnic basket.

“I am,” Ares flexed his muscles causing the gay Catholic monsignor to swoon on the beach, “I’ve also had Turkey threatening war against Israel if Israel decides to annex large swathes of the West Bank next month. And earlier this month, the Kingdom of Jordan threatened similar military action against Israel.”

“Why is Benjamin Netanyahu so anxious to annex a large portion of the West Bank next month anyways?” Hermes started eating a lox cream and cheese bagel.

“Well, according to a Renfield R. Renfield podcast I heard recently, it’s because Donald Trump’s polling numbers are so low and Netanyahu fears Trump may not be re-elected this November. So the Israeli Prime Minister is going to annex the West Bank while he’s still got a friendly administration in Washington DC, ” the Greek god of war put some Coppertone lotion on his bare legs.

“So it’s the American electorate’s fault for backing the Communist Neo-Menshevik and Neo-Bolshevik Democrats against the would-be American Caesar Donald Trump that an all-out war may start in the Middle East next month?” Hermes noted that his ice cream cone had melted in the sun.

“Yes, one thing you can always count on is for the American voter to do something outrageously stupid,” Ares grinned.

Hermes decided to go buy another ice cream cone.

Since the ice cream stand was closed, he went back to his condo.

A woman was entering the door of the condo next door.

“Who’s that?” Ares asked.

“That’s my next door neighbour the Inca vampiress Huchuysisa,” Hermes answered, “Her life is apparently in danger from both the Inca earth mother goddess Pachamama (whom Jamie Manson the bull headed bull dyke columnist for the National Apostate Reporter worships) and the flaming head of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.”

“Maybe she could use a Greek for protection,” Ares mused.

“I hope he doesn’t want to use a Trojan for protection,” the Catholic monsignor standing directly behind Ares mused.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday June 19th
2020.

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Marianne de Lilith

June 13, 2020 at 10:18 pm (Culture, Detective story, Fantasy, Gothic romance, Literature, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )


Marianne de Lililth

Carson Cody Albion sat in his private eye office
From his window, he could get a good view of parts of the city burning
The private eye felt hungry so he ordered a pizza to be delivered to his office

Unbeknownst to Albion, the courier got his orders mixed-up
A pizza that was to be delivered to the leader of a rival gang
A gang in opposition to the gang that owned the pizza shop
Was delivered to Albion instead

The pizza contained several doses of toad venom
Luckily for Albion the pizza cook got his recipe books mixed up
He did not sprinkle enough toad venom on the mozzarella to deliver death
Only enough to give the eater a high

Although Albion might not have died anyways
He was immortal
Having drunk breast milk from the lovely knockers of
the Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis back on VE-Day
May 8th 1945

Albion ate the pizza
and drank his bourbon
And soon he was off on a hallucinogenic trip
That would have made Samuel Taylor Coleridge green with envy
For there was no storytelling sailor with an albatross around his neck
Nor a Kubla Khan in Xanadu stately decreeing a pleasure dome

Rather this sight greeted his senses

Marianne de Lilith

I am Marianne de Lilith
said the sexy redheaded witch

Well, Marianne, said Albion,
I love the way you’re holding that broomstick.

Bats flew in the light of the full moon
Behind the dead desolate tree.

“This is but a vision of the mind,” Albion reflected
“As I don’t think the Farmer’s Almanac called for a full moon this evening.”

“The tree behind me died as a result of being watered with toad venom,”
Marianne explained.
“That is a shame,” Albion reflected as he threw his cigarette lighter at Marianne’s feet.
Albion crawled over to pick it up.

“I’m reminded of fishing season for some reason,” Albion remarked as he gazed up her stockings and her skirt.
A spiked stiletto high-heeled shoe crushed his hand.

“This never happened to John Candy when he made a splash with his loose change aboard that boat,” Albion grimaced with pain.

Albion soon found himself in Marianne’s shack.
He started whistling that song “What A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts”
as he gazed at the pair of knockers that weren’t hanging on Marianne’s door.

“I take it you still like being breast fed?” Marianne asked the private eye.
“I do,” Albion nodded, “I’m like Jerry Seinfeld in that respect.”

So Marianne breast fed him.
Breasts that were loaded with toad’s venom and not milk.
Albion went into cardiac arrest and was rushed to an LA hospital.

“Beware the breasts of Marianne de Lilth!” Calpurnia’s ghost warned as she strolled the corridors of the hospital emergency ward.
Her warning came a little too late for Carson Cody Albion private eye.

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday June 13th
2020.

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Mermaid’s Tears and The Ocean

May 26, 2020 at 10:33 pm (Folklore, Mythology, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Mermaid’s Tears and The Ocean

It was but a drop in the ocean
He reflected
As he emptied a mermaid’s tear

A mermaid’s tear kept in a tiny bottle 
By an elderly aunt
Who had been given the tiny bottle as a child by her father 
And was told that what appeared to be a tear inside was a mermaid’s tear 

That elderly aunt had passed away 
a few weeks ago 
And the bequest given to him
Was he was to take the bottle 
And empty the tear back into the ocean
So that somehow the mermaid’s tear 
Would be reunited with its owner

A drop in the ocean it was 
And the mermaid’s tear quickly disappeared in the surging tide

Sail away, sail away oh mermaid’s tear 
Among the currents and ebbs of the sea 
And return to the eye that shed thee
Considered but a drop in the ocean 
In this eternity

He turned and there standing on the beach 
Was a friend of his
The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

She looked at him,
How kind of you to return a mermaid’s tear to the sea
She kissed him
And they embraced 

Seeing the sight 
from distant ocean waves
Mermaids wept
… tears of joy

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 26th
2020.

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Sherrielock Holmes Meets Boris Johnson

May 24, 2020 at 10:53 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Sherrielock Holmes Meets Boris Johnson

World famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes was getting her photo taken by world famous London photographer Manuel Murrat Merriweather.

She was getting her picture taken on her sofa in front of a Manuel Murrat Merriweather retouched photo of an old black and white aerial photo of New York City in 1931.

When the photo session was over, Sherrielock gave Manuel a spanking for not social distancing during the photo session.

Then when that was over, she gave him another spanking for not social distancing during the original spanking session.

And on and on it went.

Until there was a knock at her apartment door.

It was British Prime Minister Boris Johnson showing up for a previous scheduled appointment.

Manuel Murrat Merriweather left the apartment with his bottom tingling like the sound of caroling bells from a church tower on Christmas Eve.

His buttocks now resembled a Christmas candy cane.

Boris Johnson arrived at Sherrielock Holmes’ apartment because he figured he could use a good spanking since he had not demanded that his chief advisor Dominic Cummings resign for breaking his government’s own coronavirus lockdown rules.

People were thinking that one rule applied for the elites and another rule applied to the masses.

Of course, Johnson, being the Oxford trained classicist that he was, knew that had always been the case throughout human history.

However he figured that a good bare bottom spanking at the hands of dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes should put the matter to rest as far as the British public was concerned.

Johnson was starting to have second thoughts about his decision as soon as the spanking started.

His buttocks even more so.

The ghost of the late British Prime Minister Sir Winston Churchill (sometime spirit advisor to British MP Renfield R. Renfield) came apparitionly through the walls of Sherrielock’s apartment because he hadn’t spoken to her in a while.

Churchill’s ghost found the whole spectacle quite distressing.

Not so much the sight of Sherrielock’s lovely tight skirted lap.

But the sight of a totally nude Boris Johnson across that lap with his buttocks a glowing tomato red.

Churchill’s ghostly appetite would be lost for the next week.

Johnson eventually departed deducing that this must be what the sting of a thousand Asian giant hornets must feel like.

He was followed minutes later by a mask wearing Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu who figured he could use a spanking for not resigning while facing bribery and corruption charges in the Israeli courts.

Like Johnson, Netanyahu and his buttocks were likewise regretting the decision minutes after the spanking started.

Meantime the ghost of Orson Welles (likewise an occasional spirit advisor to British MP Renfield R. Renfield) strolled apparitionly through the walls of Sherrielock’s apartment because he hadn’t spoken to her in a while.

Welles’ ghost likewise was distressed by the spectacle.

Again not by the sight of Sherrielock’s lovely tight skirted lap.

But by Netanyahu’s total nudity plus his buttocks turning tomato red (albeit a very kosher looking tomato red).

Welles’ ghost left the apartment in search of several dozen glasses of a good spectral red wine while Sherrielock quipped, “We will spank no Benjamin before his time.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday May 24th
2020.

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Morrigan In Cornwall

May 21, 2020 at 10:50 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Morrigan In Cornwall

Along the cliffs she walked 
While a raven flew by
Morrigan the Irish Celtic goddess of war 
Beneath where she walked was the surging tide 
watery grave of many a sailor that died 
Behind her was wood of ancient fallen tree
Cast over these cliffs in storm that shattered tranquility 

These were the shores of Cornwall wild 
where wild desolate moors and cliffs of smugglers’ coves beguiled 
Not far from here was the Arthurian legend born
A brief ray of hope in a land forlorn 

Far far north of here were the mists of Avalon
Where the Arthurian sun set after Arthur was gone 
Now this land along with the world was pandemic bound 
So here far from eerie silence of death was bird cry and raging surf sound 

Like many immortals from ancient pantheons Morrigan returned to walk the earth 
when guns of August 1914 heralded a bloody rebirth 
A century of war 
and blood galore
Fascism, Nazism and Communism 
A three headed cobra with deadly fangs it bore 
Never far from human hearts the poison surged to the planet’s very core 

And now Mother Earth itself was filled with hate
A virus arose of deadly destiny and most fatal of fate 
Floods and cyclones now arose in the midst of May 
Were earthquakes now on the way neath skies so gray?

And war itself may not be far behind
That fiery red horse so insidiously unkind
Ares was still stomping his feet 
waiting for Morrigan to pick up the beat

-A poem and vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Thursday May 21st
2020.

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Norse Goddess Freya On The Canals of Venice

April 16, 2020 at 10:51 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, Sorcery, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Norse Goddess Freya On The Canals of Venice

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set, Dr. Cadbury Rocher the chief scientist of Set Enterprises, British MP Renfield R. Renfield, Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds one of the Church of England’s leading exorcists, Peter Whitstable the Fox Mulder of Interpol and Australian outback based Amadeus Emanon were having another video conferencing discussion via Skype.

“Well, the economy will have to open up again gradually,” Set stated, “or the world is going to fall into a great economic depression from which it will never recover. Not of course that the Communists in the WHO, the UN, the Vatican or numerous national bureaucracies all over the globe care since a great economic depression is right up their Marxist totalitarian despot alley. But it will have to take place gradually not full speed ahead like the would be American Neo-Roman Caesar Donald Trump would have it. I think though all major public events all over the world such as sporting events, concerts, parades, rodeos and any other massive public gatherings will have to be put on hold until at least September 30th of this year. Let’s be realistic about that. If governments all over the world would say that, they’d be honest. After a while of extending lockdowns for 25 days after every 25 days which seems to be the way the bozos of our national leaders all over the world seem to be going, people are going to start getting cynical about the whole thing. There can be a gradual opening up of various businesses over the new few months. But any large events or massive public gatherings are out. Until at least September 30th of this year. And sadly maybe even beyond if necessary. But at least prepare the world for the fact that no major sporting events or parades or concerts or massive social gatherings are going to happen this summer of 2020. And not until a week after the autumn equinox after that.”

“If the governments of the world were honest, they’d tell people that,”
Renfield admitted.

“But are most of the governments of the world honest?” Amadeus asked as he ate a slice of pecan pie.

“No,” Renfield sipped from a bottle of whisky.

“Glad to see that we’ve got that out of the way,” Dr. Cadbury Rocher dusted some dandruff off his lab coat.

“What does Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster have to say about the world political scene?” Set asked Dr. Rocher.

“Well, he says that Joe Biden is not going to get the Democratic Presidential nomination this year,” Dr. Rocher wiped his glasses.

“Why not?” Set swallowed another live crocodile, “I thought Biden had the number of delegates pretty well sewn up including every other candidate (among which was Bernie Sanders) endorsing him.”

“Yes, but ever since January of this year, Michelangelo has had this vision of Joe Biden keeling over,” Dr. Rocher noted.

“Keeling over?” Set took a giant Rolaids tablet for his giant heart burn.

“Kicking the bucket, croaking,” Dr. Rocher explained as a frog hopped out of a frozen ice bucket of Corona beer behind him.

“Well, that would definitely upend the U.S. Democratic Party if that were to happen,” Renfield lit his pipe.

“Wasn’t Michelangelo the only being on the planet back in early October of 2016 who was predicting that Donald Trump would win the Presidency when all the opinion polls were showing that he was 20 points behind Hillary?” Amadeus asked.

“There was a geopolitical analyst who found himself having to live in a homeless shelter in Calgary back in the summer and early autumn of 2016 who was saying much the same thing,” Renfield was on to his second bottle of whisky, “And everyone was telling him that he was crazy. But like so often, his insanity turned out to be more accurate than everybody else’s sanity.”

“So who’s going to be the Democratic nominee?” Set bit into a marmalade laced scone.

“Michelangelo won’t say,” Dr. Rocher shrugged, “He’s keeping those cards close to his chest.”

“Michelangelo always was a Hell of a poker player,” Renfield was suddenly remembering that he still owed the lobster £10,000 from their last poker game.

“Anything else about the U.S. political scene we should know vis-a-vis Michelangelo?” Set bit into some homemade apple pie.

“The U.S. Presidential election may be postponed until a later date,” Dr. Rocher answered as the ghost of Nero started playing his fiddle in the background and the ghost of Julius Caesar started getting the blood washed off his toga.

. . .

The Jesuit priest Father Caiaphas bar Yochai stood inside the empty Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and admired his handiwork.

A year ago yesterday Father Caiaphas had set fire to it while riding a fire breathing basilisk named Basilisk Wrathsbone.

Father Caiaphas laughed as he opened up his 1588 Latin edition of The Necronomicon and started saying a few prayers.

. . .

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing had received an emergency email from the Norse goddess Freya saying that her stepson Thor was up to no good in this time of the Covid-19 pandemic.

They were to meet in person in gondolas on the now empty canals of Venice.

The Norse goddess Freya waited for Dracul Van Helsing in her gondola on the canals of Venice.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher 
Thursday April 16th
2020.

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Night of The Pink Moon Super Moon

April 7, 2020 at 10:45 pm (Arts, Entertainment, Fantasy, love, Mythology, Poetry, Romance) (, , , , )

Night of The Pink Moon Super Moon

Never an easy time to say good bye
As a pink toned rose moon rose in the sky
Against the rocks the surging tide rose high

Lovely scent of palms and South Sea air
And at the door stood a lady fair
Magical pink mist rose in distant cloud 
In this paradise far from the madd’ing crowd

Sometimes worlds meet where they embrace and not collide 
For life is more than a merry go ride
Heart to heart, heart to heart 
Must kindred souls do part?

She Mahina the Hawaiian and Polynesian goddess of the moon
He Dracul of the earth’s mournful tune 
Now on this night she must return home
Else she fade away like the ocean foam

Star crossed lovers under a rose hue sky
Where South Sea waves splash amidst mermaid cry
She turned around with last longing look 
And to the heavens vanished leaving one night hunter forsook 

-A poem and vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 7th
2020.

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