Zeus’ New Year’s Eve In Berlin

December 31, 2019 at 11:50 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Zeus’ New Year’s Eve In Berlin 

When the Greek god Zeus heard the news that the Germanic god Wotan (aka the Norse god Odin) would be spending his New Year’s Eve in Athens, Greece watching Greek lady belly dancers in the city’s tavernas (although Odin/Wotan told his wife Freya that he’d be snow bowling as opposed to lawn bowling with Thor up at the North Pole), Zeus decided that he’d attend a New Year’s Eve party in the German capital of Berlin.

Buying the latest men’s tuxedo from a fashionable and upscale London tailor (where British Prime Minister Boris Johnson purchased his suits), Zeus flew an old Zeppelin dirigible from London to Berlin.

One of the guests aboard the New Year’s Eve dirigible for select celebrities (of which the Grecian sky god of Mount Olympus was considered to be one) was a former advisor to Donald Trump (who had just discovered hours earlier that he had apparently lost his job on the last day of this year when he read about it in one of the American leader’s recent tweets).

Overdosing on strawberry daiquiris, he got the lead out from the Zeppelin via his rear end when he sat on the edge of the dirigible deck and mooned various U.S. consulates and embassies (that the airship flew over on its way to Berlin) as his own personal form of retaliation.

Zeus was looking very dapper and debonair as he got off the Zeppelin and proceeded to chase anyone wearing a skirt (although he quickly reached the conclusion that the tea members of Berlin’s LGBTQ community wasn’t quite what he had in mind and vowed to be more observant and diligent on his Berlin night out).

As for the now former advisor to Donald Trump, when what was left of him was taken off the airship, they were able to bury all of him in a cigar box and place him 6 feet under in a Berlin cemetery.

Zeus reached a Berlin publishing company’s New Year’s Eve party and decided to crash it.

Posing as the author of a book on Greek mythology, the bearded Olympian was let in.

Zeus noted that his son Dionysus (aka Bacchus) was there.

After 9 PM in the evening, Dionysus fell asleep with his head in the gigantic punch bowl where it remained the rest of the night (with no one bothering to remove it as patrons and guests just scooped up their glasses of punch around the drunken deity’s head).

The Greek hero Achilles was there having recently been granted a temporary dispensation from the Underworld by Hades and Persephone.

Achilles was trying to put the moves on the (quite literally) immortal beautiful Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka who was currently visiting Germany from the U.S. Dakotas.

Belvedere the ghost of a Ghost White Salamander and a reporter for the Times of London was covering the New Year’s Eve literary gala.

During his mortal human life back in the 19th Century (how he ended up the ghost of a Ghost White Salamander and ceased being human was one long sad story), Belvedere had been good friends with the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka and her grandfather White Hawk (who was a great Lakota Sioux Medicine Man).

In fact the three had celebrated together Chief Sitting Bull’s victory over George Armstrong Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn.

Noticing that Tanaka was being bothered by the obnoxious and egotistical so-called “hero” of the Trojan War, Belvedere used a spectral bow and arrow (the spirit of the material physical bow and arrow that had been given him as a gift by White Hawk) and fired a spectral arrow at Achilles’ spectral heel.

“Damn! Not again!” Achilles shouted as a group of models wearing the latest dress fashions from Paris and carrying apples in their hands did a catwalk through the party hall.

Achilles fell over and once again departed to the realm of Hades.

Just then Zeus noticed 3 beautiful women standing against the wall by one of the balcony windows.

The Olympian decided to go over and make a move hoping to bring in the New Year with a bang- and possibly three- if he was lucky.

However a huge damper was about to fall on Zeus’ plans for the evening when his wife Hera stepped off the elevator into the party room.

She had been invited to the party by the President of the Berlin Publishing Company.

Hera noticed Zeus chatting up the three beauties.

New Year’s Eve fireworks soon went off.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday December 31st
2019.

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Michelangelo: The Fastest Claw In The West

October 6, 2019 at 10:24 pm (Humour, Literature, Poetry, Romance, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , )

Michelangelo: The Fastest Claw In The West

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a visitor in his aquarium room at Set Enterprises today.

The visitor was Belvedere the ghost of a ghost white salamander reporter for the Times of London.

Belvedere, in his days as a mortal, before he had been turned into a ghost white salamander by a gypsy enchantress, had lived in the days of the American Wild West and was therefore regaling the lobster with tales of his adventures (somewhat highly embellished of course!).

Belvedere was then called away by his editor to attend a late night session of the House of Lords who were debating if there would be enough sausages available to make full English breakfasts should a no-deal Brexit happen.

When Belvedere left, Michelangelo fell asleep and dreamed that he was living in the days of the Wild West.

The place was Dodge City
The times were not pretty 
Willy Malone and The Bronson Boys
had fired their guns certainly not toys
They were the gang that called the shots 
And gave their horses the best parking spots 

No one could stop their reign of terror 
thinking that one could was a total error
You’d find yourself plugged full of lead
and resting ‘neath tombstones with the rest of the dead

It was on a hot and dusty day 
that a lobster wandered this way
He went up to the bar and ordered a beer 
using chalk and a chalkboard to make himself clear
For the crustacean was the strong silent type 
and his body odour was not overly ripe

Willy Malone and the Bronson Boys came strolling through the door
Got the shock of their life seeing a lobster on the floor 
Said Malone as he saw the lobster drinking his beer 
and finding the whole thing very queer
This town ain’t big enough for the both of us
So I say unto you, Hit the road, Gus

The lobster wrote on the chalkboard
with all the pizzaz of a High British Lord
My name is Michelangelo and I shall not leave
So stick that up your nose and wipe your sleeve

Malone was beside himself 
As he knocked beer bottles off the shelf
Step out into the street for a show down
And when you’re dead you’ll leave town 
I’m challenging you to a gun fight 
Bullets blazing will be your last sight

Michelangelo accepted the challenge to a draw 
And was out on the street with gun in claw 
The town’s privy clerk counted to three 
And the lobster shot old Malone in the knee
He did the same with the Bronson Boys
who keeled over in the street making lots of noise 

For Michelangelo was the fastest claw in the West
And the Malone-Bronson gang wasn’t up for the test 

-A vampire novel chapter
and poem
written by Christopher
Sunday October 6th
2019.


One of the witnesses to the gunfight between Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster and the Malone-Bronson Gang

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Pan Goatee, Donald Trump, Prince Andrew and Benjamin Netanyahu

July 16, 2019 at 9:33 pm (Aesthetics, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Occult, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Pan Goatee, Donald Trump, Prince
Andrew and Benjamin Netanyahu

Pan Goatee had just finished buying cans of Diet Coke in the dollar store and was walking towards the mall’s food court when he encountered two fat ugly blimps of sisters waddling around the confines of the food court.

“A blimp is a blimp by any other name,” Goatee paraphrased Shakespeare as he beheaded one of the walrus-semi-human hybrids that were unfortunately vastly (in more ways than one) indigenous to this particular locale of western Canada.

“And the same goes for you,” Goatee remarked as he beheaded the other fat ugly blimp of a sister.

Sadly both fat ugly blimps had obviously not been carried away by a tornado that had recently hit the region a couple of days earlier.

“I guess that poor twisting vortex of a funnel cloud did not want to come down with a hernia,” Goatee reflected to himself.

Meanwhile in Washington DC, Donald Trump (after talking to the ghost of Richard M. Nixon who had famously said once, “I am not a crook”) had tweeted, “I am not a racist.”

He then added, “There’s not a racist bone in my body.”

At DARPA headquarters, the head of DARPA Dr. Faustus Imhotep was trying to keep under wraps medical x-rays that showed the current U.S. President did not have a skeleton but rather a strange mass of alien slime under his skin.

Dr. Faustus Imhotep was now pondering the question, “Was Trump an illegal alien from a galaxy far, far away?”.

Meanwhile over in England, Prince Andrew was reflecting on the U.S. arrest of one of his acquaintances Jeffrey Epstein.

The radio in his room was playing an old song recorded by Ringo Starr, “You’re 16, you’re beautiful and you’re mine.”

Andrew shut the radio off as it brought back memories of a time that could possibly land him in hot water.

And at his parliamentary office in Westminster, British MP Renfield R. Renfield was looking at photos taken by Belvedere the ghost of a ghost white salamander reporter for The Times of London.

The photos were recently taken in Jerusalem.

It was at a press conference in which Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu named the South African born academic Dr. Evan Cohen as his new spokesperson to the international media.

Standing behind Netanyahu at the press conference was the Rome-based Egyptian deity Osiris and the demon Baphomet.

“Does this mean Osiris and Baphomet have formed an alliance with one another?” Amadeus Emanon asked Renfield as he looked at the photos.

“If they are, the Boss won’t be very happy about that,” Renfield remarked.

Renfield still referred to his former employer the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set as the Boss.

The remark confused a lost American tourist as he walked down the corridors outside Renfield’s office and had come to the conclusion that this place was probably not Westminster Abbey.

Why, the tourist wondered, would Bruce Springsteen object to Osiris and Baphomet forming an alliance?

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday July 16th
2019.

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Ghost of Orson Welles Meets Belvedere In Istanbul

May 6, 2019 at 9:40 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The ghost of Orson Welles was sitting in a cafe in Istanbul.

He had been told by a Russian spy beluga whale whom he had helped to defect to Norway this past weekend that the lovely mermaid Miranda when swimming through the Bosphorus Strait would often shapeshift into full human form and visit the Marmara Cafe in downtown Istanbul of which she loved the Turkish coffee being served there.

Welles could never recall meeting an actual mermaid in his past mortal life or current ghostly life so he decided to come to Istanbul and visit the Marmara Cafe on the off chance that he might meet Miranda.

Welles sat at a back table in the corner of the cafe and sipped a glass of spectral red wine occasionally glancing at the entrance to see if any woman who might be a mermaid in full human form came walking through the door.

He recited William Butler Yeats’ Sailing To Byzantium as he sat,

“… And therefore have I sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium. ”

“Orson!” A voice shouted from the doorway.

It was the voice of Belvedere the ghost of a ghost white salamander.

Belvedere had been human but back in the mid-1880s in the American Wild West had been turned into a ghost white salamander through an ancient Egyptian spell cast by a gypsy woman who worked in the Wild West saloon where he worked as a bartender.

He became the ghost of a ghost white salamander when he crawled outside and was run over by a settlers’ ox cart heading west.

The first and last time Belvedere saw Welles was back in October 1938 just prior to the then Boy Wonder delivering his famous Halloween War of The Worlds broadcast.

“Belvedere,” the ghost of Orson Welles lit a spectral cigar, “Long time no see.”

“I see we’re both ghosts now,” Belvedere sat across from the spectral cinematic talent.

“Such are the ravages of time,” Welles blew rosebud shaped smoke rings, “unless we be vampires, vampiresses, gods, goddesses or immortal dominatrixes who have eaten just the right amount of Lingzhi supernatural mushrooms, we must all succumb to the hands of the scythe wielding spectre Death there to see our flesh melt and our bones turned to dust and our spirits wandering earth, purgatory or paradise until such time as our bodies and souls are reunited into a new transformed whole on the Day of Judgment.”

“Eloquent as ever, my friend,” Belvedere was impressed.

“So, what are you doing these days?” Welles sipped his wine, “What brings you to Istanbul?”.

“I am now a reporter for The Times of London,” the ghost white salamander answered, “I’m here on assignment. Turkey’s chief electoral body has ordered that Istanbul’s local elections be re-held after President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Islamist AK Party lost to the opposition secularist CHP Party after a shock opposition victory this past March.”

“It is indeed a hatchet in the cake of dictatorship when the trappings of democracy come crashing down just as the cake is being wheeled into the banquet hall where Ottoman Sultans once dined and harem girls once danced,” Welles helped himself to spectral caviar and spread it on a spectral slice of bread.

“Erdogan is indeed upset about the whole thing,” Belvedere agreed, “He himself used to be Mayor of Istanbul many years ago.”

“Such is the power of the spirit of Byzantium,” Welles drank a toast, “that this city can survive the misrule of a petty despot such as Erdogan.”

“Istanbul’s new CHP Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu is confident that he can win again in the re-held election,” Belvedere remarked.

“Beware the sting of scorpions and the fangs of serpents,” Welles’ baritone voice shook the cafe, “for my friends who still fast in the fires of Purgatory inform me that Lady MacBeth’s ghost serves as an advisor to Erdogan.”

“Great Scot! And great Caesar’s ghost!” Belvedere’s ghostly white face turned even more ghostly white, “Lady MacBeth!”.

“Never was a Film Noir Femme Fatale more femme fatalish than Lady MacBeth as the Bard so adeptly captured her personality, soul and spirit in his Scottish Play,” Welles raised his finger in the air to capture the direction the Mid-East winds were blowing, “for she serves not only as advisor to Erdogan but advisor to Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman as well. Tantalizing both claimants to a future Caliphate. Playing one side against the other. Stringing both together as if playing on a harp whose strings are made of human sinews.”

Belvedere decided to change to a cheerier subject.

“Have you ever watched Game of Thrones?” Belvedere asked.

“I have never watched an episode in full,” Welles confessed, “I have watched segments of certain programs on YouTube.”

“What do you think?” Belvedere inquired.

“What do I think?” Welles lit another spectral cigar, inhaled and then exhaled smoke rings like dragons, “I think Game of Thrones captures what the world of Medieval Europe would have been like if there had been no figure of Christ at the center of the culture of Medieval Europe.”

“Really?” Belvedere pondered this thought.

“In such a Medieval Europe,” Welles took the final sip of what remained of his glass, “Every ruler would be able to say… we are all Lady MacBeth.”

As a woman in another corner of the cafe claimed to have just given birth to dragons, the ghost of Lady MacBeth entered the cafe’s entrance still carrying stains of blood on her spectral formerly mortal hands.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday May 6th 2019
Orson Welles’ 104th
birthday.

Permalink 48 Comments

The Reason Cthulhu Is In California and Trump Gets Advice From Gen. Pinochet’s Ghost On Military Coup

August 7, 2018 at 10:57 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Horror, International Intrigue, Literature, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

The Reason Cthulhu Is In California and Trump Gets Advice From Gen. Pinochet’s Ghost On Military Coup

The Times of London sent their top ghostly spectral reporter Belvedere the ghost of the ghost white salamander to San Francisco to interview the Lovecraftian Great Old One god monster Cthulhu who had recently showed up in San Francisco Bay.

Other reporters had tried to interview the beast from the sea 🌊 but they ended up being eaten by the Creature from R’ lyeh (an underwater city in the South Pacific).

On hearing of the number of American mainstream reporters who were eaten by Cthulhu, Donald Trump tweeted, “See even Cthulhu thinks that the media is the enemy of the American people. And he can probably shoot through a hoop a lot better than Lebron James.”

An hour later Melania Trump tweeted, “Cthulhu is an inhuman monster.”

A leading American divorce lawyer then tweeted, “Who wants to grab me first? The Donald or Melania? Call me as Blondie once said.”

Since Belvedere was already a ghost, he didn’t have to worry about being eaten by Cthulhu although that didn’t stop Cthulhu from trying.

Finally in order to shut the pesky ghostly ghost white salamander Belvedere with his annoying questions up, Cthulhu finally broke down and revealed the reason for his trip to California.

“I want to see the Sacred Riana in the quarterfinals of the 2018 America’s Got Talent competition,” Cthulhu explained, “I watched her win the 2017 Asia’s Got Talent competition last year via underwater satellite TV in my cage in R’lyeh. Never have I been so turned on by anyone in hundreds of millions of millennia. I thought all this time I had become totally celibate. Which is why Lovecraft called me the High Priest of the Great Old Ones. He thought I was a Great Old One equivalent of Pope Hildebrand (aka Pope Gregory VII who reigned from April 22nd 1073-May 25th 1085) and thought that since celibacy was good enough for him, it was good enough for all the clergy in the West. I must confess I really didn’t have any sexual feelings until I watched the Sacred Riana in the 2017 Asia’s Got Talent competition.”

“I think you told me way more information than what I actually wanted to know,” Belvedere the ghost of the Ghost White Salamander turned even whiter than his usual ghostly white self.

The Sacred Riana terrifies Mel B. On America’s Got Talent 2018.

. . .

“Who are you?” Donald Trump asked the ghostly spectral figure of the General who only seemed to speak Spanish, “This is why we need to build a wall. Are you the fellow who put all those Mexican drug dealers’ heads on those spikes in the White House Rose Garden recently? I must admit they helped my morning bowel movement considerably but still I don’t really relish having the crap scared out of me.”

“I am the ghost of Gen. Augusto Pinochet,” the spectre explained in Shakespearean English finally, “confined both day and night to fast in fires 🔥 until the foul crimes done in my days of nature are burnt and purged away. Unfortunately for me, that’s going to last from here until eternity.”

“So what are you doing here in the Oval Office then?” Trump asked.

“Hades the Greek god and guardian of the Underworld released me temporarily,” Gen. Pinochet’s ghost explained, “Pope Francis seems to get on Hades’ nerves with all his claims about Hellish Tartarus not existing. Many in the celestial council of small-g gods are starting to think that Hades is falling down on the job. So since Hades dislikes Pope Francis and Pope Francis happens to dislike you, Hades released me to give you advice.”

“Advice on what?” Trump looked in the mirror and wondered if the Chilean military dictator might be able to recommend a good hair product for more natural looking hair colour.

“On how to organize a military coup d’état and seize power just on the off chance the Robert Mueller probe does turn up something and Congress decides to impeach you,” Gen. Pinochet’s ghost explained.

“Beg your pardon, sir,” Lexington the Presidential butler and valet opened the Oval Office door, “but former Secretary of State Dr. Henry Kissinger is on line 1. He has just had a dream about a 1950s Mamie Van Doren 3-D motion picture that he’d like to discuss with you.”

“Is that the one where the movie announcer in the ad trailer for it says She’ll knock both your eyes out?” Trump helped himself to some left over Mexican spicy 🌶 breasts that Lexington had prepared for him this past weekend.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday August 7th
2018.

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General Custer’s Death and White Hawk’s Vision: A Poem

April 10, 2018 at 10:07 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

General Custer’s Death and White Hawk’s Vision: A Poem

White Hawk- Medicine Man of the Lakota Sioux Nation
He was there at Little Big Horn
The Battle of the Greasy Grass
He was there the day Custer died
The day Custer died for the sins
of corporate mining ⛏ interests
in the West
and white settler expansion

June 25th 1876
The day Custer entered Eternity
The day Custer went to the Hell
that does not exist
(according to a 21st Century Pope)

White Hawk watched Custer die
He heard the last words on Custer’s lips
“The White Buffalo is coming”
And then the eyes went blank
and stared into the Heavens
where his soul did not ascend

A year later outside his tepee
on a summer evening
as he smoked the sacred pipe
White Hawk had a vision
A vision of a White Buffalo

He spoke the vision to the people
of his camp
“The one who rides the White Buffalo
will live until the return of the Son
of the Great Spirit”

The outlaw Belvedere heard the statement
Standing alongside him was White Hawk’s lovely and beautiful granddaughter of twenty years
the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

“Who do you suppose will eventually ride the White Buffalo?”
Tanaka asked Belvedere.

“I do not know,” Belvedere shrugged,
“but I guess they’ll live
until the return of the Great Spirit’s Son.”

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 10th
2018.

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Belvedere and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

April 8, 2018 at 10:58 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mystery, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Belvedere and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

Belvedere the ghost white salamander who worked as a reporter for The Times of London was meeting with one of his sources in a London restaurant.

The source was Gary Geese-Hogg an agent for MI-6.

The restaurant was Amit’s Curry 🍛 Palace.

“Love the food here,” said Gary as his spoon 🥄 dove into a bowl of delicious chicken curry.

“Being dead, I unfortunately can’t eat it,” said the ghost of the ghost white salamander, “so what’s your scoop?”.

“You’ve heard of Lev Tomi?” Geese-Hogg asked Belvedere.

“The head of the UN Secretariat On The Environment and Climate Change?” Belvedere asked.

“That’s the one,” Geese-Hogg nodded, “he’s been meeting continuously with George Soros on a regular basis the past few years.”

“The billionaire Hungarian-American investor?” Belvedere said.

“That’s the one,” Geese-Hogg motioned for some chai tea.

“And what are the subject of these meetings?” Belvedere wanted to know.

“We have no idea,” Geese-Hogg shrugged, “we’re hoping with your investigative reporting skills, you’ll be able to find out and tell us.”

Belvedere picked up his ghostly notebook and left.

Another waste of time, the ghost white salamander thought to himself.

As he walked through the street, he suddenly noticed a woman wearing a 19th Century Native American indigenous dress.

He recognized her as the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka.


The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

The last time he saw her was in his mortal life as a non-ghost and a non-white salamander.

He had changed quite a lot since the last time he saw her.

But she was still the same.

Young looking and beautiful.

And still alive.

She couldn’t be a vampiress since it was broad daylight as she walked down the street.

And yet the last time he saw her was in the Black Hills of South Dakota back in 1877.

How, Belvedere wondered, was this possible?

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday April 8th
2018.

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Apollo and Belvedere In PyeongChang

February 11, 2018 at 11:59 pm (Fantasy, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Apollo and Belvedere In PyeongChang

The Greek god Apollo was attending the 2018 Winter Olympics in PyeongChang.

He was hoping to help bring peace to this troubled part of the world.

Ever since he was brought back from the dead last year, he felt that it was his mission to bring peace to this long-suffering world.

Belvedere the ghost of a ghost white salamander who was a reporter for the Times of London had discovered that Apollo was staying at a hotel in PyeongChang and decided to get an exclusive interview with the Greek deity.

A few weeks before in London when his editors found out that Belvedere knew nothing whatsoever about sports, they immediately assigned him to cover the PyeongChang Winter Olympics.

In Apollo’s room, Belvedere introduced himself.

Apollo agreed to the interview as the Olympian deity thought it might be kind of cool 😎 to be interviewed by the ghost of a ghost white salamander.

Of course Belvedere had not always been like that.

He had once been human having worked as a bartender on Wild West dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes’ Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon in the Wild West town of Hayden Colorado back in the 1880s.

He had been turned into a ghost white salamander by a time traveling enchantress.

And shortly afterwards, he was run over and killed by a caravan covered wagon heading west whereupon he became the ghost of a ghost white salamander.

Apollo gave Belvedere some of his own background – the background not covered in most classical mythology textbooks.

When the Temple of Apollo at Delphi was destroyed by the Emperor Theodosius the Great in 390 AD, Apollo became severely depressed.

So depressed in fact that he started having suicidal thoughts and of course being an immortal, it was rather difficult to commit suicide.

He happened to run into the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith and Apollo told her of his misery.

Lilith happened to have in her possession some poisoned Babylonian grapes 🍇 that were capable of killing an immortal so she gave Apollo some and he promptly died in the year 390 AD.

Apollo was buried on Mount Parnassus after his death and his tomb became lost to both god and man after a small quake shook Mount Parnassus.

Then in the year 2012 AD on the night of the summer solstice that year just after sundown, Apollo’s tomb on Mount Parnassus was discovered by the French archaeologist vampire Dr. Pompidou De Gaulle (whose archaeological expeditions were sponsored by the Egyptian vampiress Isis).

Apollo’s father Zeus thereupon came out of the shadows where he had been since his son’s death and tried to find somebody who could bring Apollo back from the dead.

Then in December 2016 Zeus met Set Enterprises’ chief scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher and asked him if he could find an antidote to the poisonous Babylonian grapes 🍇 of Lilith and bring his son Apollo back from the dead.

In early January 2017, Dr. Rocher succeeded in bringing Apollo back from the dead.

Returned to life, Apollo thought it should be his mission to bring peace to the world- something difficult to do in a world where the likes of Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un were in power.

Making it even more difficult, Apollo’s brother Ares (the Greek god of war) was hopping back and forth between different spots on the planet sowing conflict and wars.

And Ares was doing it in earnest, very ticked off at the fact that his role in starting and trying to continue the First World War had been exposed in a movie 🎥 that came out last year- Wonder Woman with Gal Gadot.

Then in a further troubling development, Apollo’s brother Hephaestus (the Greek god of metalworking and the forge) had started building ballistic missiles for Kim Jong-un last year making for successful ballistic missile tests that ticked off Donald Trump and caused the latter to tweet even more than he did.

“So given this environment,” Belvedere scribbled with his ghostly pen in his ghostly notebook 📓, “how do you intend to bring peace to this region?”.

“Well,” Apollo poured some Red Bull energy drink into his glass of ambrosia, “I’ve met with Kwan Yin who is an immortal princess worshipped as the Buddhist Goddess of Mercy and compassion here in Asia and discussed my plans with her. In fact, Kwan Yin met with Kim Yo-jong the sister of Kim Jong-un in this very hotel last night.”

“I heard about that,” Belvedere chewed on his ghostly pen with his ghostly white salamander mouth, “Speaking of which, do you know anything about an attack that occurred in this hotel last night in which a satyr was bitten by a blue-eyed white wolf?”.

“No, I hadn’t heard about that,” Apollo sipped his ambrosia-Red Bull hybrid drink, “I didn’t know there were any satyrs left in the world since the death of Pan 2000 years ago.”

“I wonder if Dr. Cadbury Rocher has revived any,” Belvedere spilled ghostly blue ink all over his ghostly white suit.

At that moment, Apollo’s sister Artemis Diana entered the hotel room wearing a metallic short skirt and looking like Gal Gadot’s twin sister.

“Apollo dear,” Artemis spoke, “it’s Ares. He’s trying full blast to start a war between the Israelis and the Syrians.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday February 11th
2018.

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“Kiss Me, Kate” “Bite Me!”

January 27, 2018 at 11:30 pm (Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , )

“Kiss Me, Kate” “Bite Me!”

Dracula was in a second floor saloon bedroom at The Wild Tomatoes and Mushroom Saloon in the Wild West town of Hayden, Colorado making out with one of the saloon dancers 💃🏻- a woman named Katherine Van Dusen.

Sherrielock Holmes had told the Wallachian prince and Transylvanian nobleman (he held the title of Count of the Carpathians in the latter country) that he could make out with the saloon dancers 💃🏻 if he chose but she had put her spiked stiletto high-heeled foot down at the idea of turning any of them into vampiresses.

The Count was indeed getting it on with the red dress wearing Katherine Van Dusen whose red dress and black silk nylons were almost off at the moment.

“Kiss me, Kate!” Dracula shouted in the only line he knew from Shakespeare’s The Taming of The Shrew.

“Bite me!” Kate answered.

“What?” Dracula looked puzzled.

“Turn me into a vampiress!” Kate demanded.

“But do you know what your boss Sherrielock will do to me if I turn you into a vampiress?” Dracula raised one of his dark eyebrows.

“What are you?” Kate mocked him, “A vampire lord or a mouse 🐭?”.

“Well some people call bats 🦇 flying mice,” Dracula reflected.

“Shut up and bite me!” Kate showed the count her ivory white neck.

Dracula finally gave in and bit her on the neck.

“Suck me! Suck me! Suck me!” Kate screamed.

A phonetics and linguistics analysis professor who was in the next bedroom with another saloon dancer 💃🏻 remarked to his nocturnal companion, “I think that poor woman next door is unable to distinguish between an s and an f.”

Dracula had soon sucked Kate’s blood and then opened one of his veins and allowed Kate to suck his own.

Sherrielock, concerned by the shouting in Kate’s bedroom, had opened the door.

Miss Holmes’ face soon turned as white as the evening dress she was wearing.

“Dracula, you’ve turned one of my saloon girls into a vampiress,” Sherrielock hissed.

She ran to her office and pulled a whip and a cat o’ nine tails out of her desk drawer.

She then ran back into the room and said to the Count, “I’m going to tomato 🍅 your buttocks until they’re as red as the glistening liquid substance on your fangs.”

Dracula quickly turned into a bat 🦇 and got the Hell out of there.

“Meatloaf is ready!” The saloon cook shouted from downstairs.

Sherrielock looked out the room’s open window and shouted in the direction of the flying bat 🦇, “You can rest assured, Dracula, that someday the two of us will meet again. And when we do, there will be Hell to pay.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 27th
2018.

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Dracula Meets Sherrielock Holmes

January 26, 2018 at 10:02 pm (Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , , )

Dracula Meets Sherrielock Holmes

Sherrielock Holmes did come downstairs wearing a lovely black evening dress.

She asked Belvedere her bartender, “Where are the troublemakers?”.

“They’ve left,” said Belvedere.

“Who are you?” Sherrielock Holmes asked the elegant stranger standing at the bar.

“The name,” the stranger bowed courteously, “is Dracula.”

“Dracula,” Sherrielock smiled a knowing smile, “like Vlad III the medieval 15th Century prince of Wallachia.”

Dracula gasped.

He didn’t think anyone outside Eastern Europe had heard of him.

This, Dracula thought to himself, was one intelligent woman.

Which made her a force to be reckoned with.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday January 26th
2018.

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