#fridayflash The New Orleans Vampire Tour

By Timothy C. Hobbs


Paul was satiated with Mardi Gras: the wild clamor of laughter, the jazz music, the heavy layers of gold, green, and purple beads swinging from bodies crowding the booby balconies, and, most of all, the vast portions of oysters, crayfish, gumbo, beer and Hurricanes he had forced into a rebellious stomach.

Paul slid from the bed and stumbled to the dresser. He looked down and found a flyer on the dresser’s slick top. Shelia, his biology lab partner at LSU and current roommate, had left a scribbled note under one corner of the flyer: “If you’re through puking, meet me here at midnight”

Paul’s vision blurred for a moment before focusing on the red script NEW ORLEANS VAMPIER TOUR – FAMOUS MURDER SITES AND MOVIE LOCALES – GATHER AT MIDNIGHT ON THE STEPS OF ST. LOUIS CATHEDRAL ACROSS FROM JACKSON SQUARE – CAPES OPTIONAL.


Midnight was approaching when Paul came up to the cathedral. He saw a small group assembled on the bottom steps huddled against the late February chill. A hand shot up. “Paul! Over here,” he heard Shelia cry.

She ran to meet him.

“Wish you’d brought a jacket,” she kidded.

Shelia introduced the others braving the late hour, most of them college students like Paul and Shelia.

As the group exchanged pleasantries, another assemblage appeared from a swirling mist.

“I am Louis,” the first of the actor troupe announced.

There were three women and two men with him.

The women were dressed in heavily laced black garments. The men wore ensembles haunted with eighteenth century flair: dark suits, vests, and top hats.

Louis, the spokesman for the troupe, also donned a black cape lined in scarlet.

Louis bowed, announcing, “The Vampire Troupe welcomes you.” He grinned, revealing fangs.

Paul and Shelia, along with the other patrons, giggled and clapped at the theatrics.

Louis spread his arms and announced, “Now that the Witching Hour has arrived, please follow me.”

The crowd spread out behind Louis. Paul noticed the other members of the troupe stayed slightly behind.

Louis guided the entourage away from the cathedral. As they moved down dimly lit streets, he pointed out structures of historical and chilling significance: various buildings that housed scenes of ghastly crimes; stately homes rumored to be haunted by pitiful spirits and others by darker, spiteful ones.

The night fog and the chilly air added to the ambiance as the travelers passed beneath street lamps, and by the time the tour was nearing its last stop, the group was sufficiently thrilled and entertained.

“Before we make our final stop,” Louis announced. “Let me point out the house just across the street. It was one of the shooting locations used in the movie Interview with the Vampire.”

“Ahhh,” the crowd responded.

“It was near the end of the movie where Lestat was living in decrepit conditions,” Louis informed.

“Oh, I remember that part,” Paul heard one of the females say as Louis moved them on. “Lestat was in pathetic shape and drinking rats’ blood.”

Paul thought he saw just the hint of a smile crease Louis’s face at the woman’s comment before the group stood in front of an old bar whose doors were open wide with welcoming light and heat spreading out into the night, embracing the Vampire Tour and its clients standing under the vaporous glow of a solitary streetlamp.

Inside, the mood lightened. A special selection of appropriately themed drinks ranging from Bloody Mary’s to Paul and Shelia’s favorite, cranberry juice and gin, were served. The crowed mingled and talked, eventually some left while others, like Paul and Shelia, stuck around, talking with Louis.

“Been doing the tour long?” Paul asked.

“Oh yes,” Louis answered. “For many years now.”

“But what’s your day job?” Shelia asked, slurring her words under the influence of a third drink.

“Day job?” Louis asked and winked. “Vampires rest during the day, my dear.”

“Oh, you,” Shelia commented with a hiccup.

“Those are great fangs by the way,” Paul commented, beginning to feel a little tipsy himself.

“You can purchase some that look just like them,” Louis advised. “Down on Canal Street.”

Shelia stumbled forward and Paul caught her.

“Whoopsy,” Shelia said.

“Here,” Louis said and led Paul, still gripping Shelia, over to a booth toward the rear of the bar. “Let her sit here for awhile,” Louis suggested.

Paul eased Shelia down into the booth. She promptly sprawled across the seat.

Paul laughed. “I should probably get us back to the hotel,” he said.

“Listen,” Louis interrupted. “I believe all the other tourists have left. That leaves just you and your lovely companion. And since she seems quite comfortable at the moment, maybe I could interest you in a special part of the tour.”

“Really?” Paul asked. “There’s more?”

“Only for those who have remained,” Louis said. “Those whose fascination has been aroused. Someone like you, I’m guessing.”

The alcohol from his last gin and cranberry juice seemed to amplify its presence, embracing Paul like impending oblivion. He grabbed Louis’s shoulder for support against the sudden giddiness.

“Whoa!” Paul exclaimed. He looked around the room and focused on the booth where Shelia had been deposited. He noticed the five other members of Louis’ troupe were huddled there. The group resembled a flock of black and malevolent butterflies.

“Hey,” Paul said. “I better get Shelia.”

“My friends will see to her,” Louis advised. He directed Paul’s wobbly legs toward a pair of French doors. Louis opened them. Another room spread beyond.

Louis walked Paul toward a large coffin suspended at an angle from the floor.

Paul’s mind swirled as he focused on the casket. It was composed of darkly stained wood. Figures of humans writhing in torment were ornately carved along its sides. The inner lining was silk so deeply crimson it resembled blackened blood.

“The figures represent tortured souls from Dante’s poem,” Louis informed as he moved Paul closer to the coffin. “Please, climb in,” Louis invited.

Paul resisted. “I don’t think so,” he said.

“Oh, it’s an honor actually. We only let the special, the chosen from our Vampire Tour, experience what it’s like to rest as we do.”

“No,” Paul insisted. “I want to leave now. I want Shelia. I . . .”

Louis shoved Paul inside the coffin and slammed the lid closed.

Inside, Paul strained, pushing against the top of the heavy lid, but it wouldn’t budge.

Panic seized Paul. He tried to calm himself. He took deep breaths and slowly began to feel the effects of the alcohol subside.

“This is just a joke,” Paul said to himself. “The lid will flip open and Shelia and Louis and his actors will be laughing and lifting me out of here any moment now.”

But Paul’s hopes vanished when he felt a pair of arms emerge from beneath the silk lining and grab him tightly around the waist. He shrieked as a face nudged itself into the nape of his neck and the words “Let me introduce myself” were whispered into his ear.

“My name is Lestat,” the voice said coldly, hungrily as fangs pierced the warm flesh of Paul’s neck.


© Copyright 2012 Timothy C. Hobbs
1185 words

Welcome Timothy C. Hobbs

Posted by W.J. Howard

At the top of a steep cliff a derelict church serves its congregation of dust, cobwebs and birds roosting in the rafters. One human occupant lives there hidden in the cellar. He is cursed never walk in the tortuous sunlight, but to roam the woods on the cliff at night in the form of a hideous beast struggling with the violent desire to kill while striving to preserve remnants of his own humanity.

It’s Halloween in Jasper, Texas and Butch and Suzy are driving with their dad to trick or treat at the strip mall and the local churches. They didn’t count on the truck breaking down, getting lost in the woods, or coming across the ordinary old cabin, but there’s nothing ordinary about the tenents – two spinster sisters who have been waiting eternally for children to call their own.

“I am a drinker of human blood and an eater of human flesh, a monster dressed in the skin of a man.” So states Charles, the main character of the novel, after being infected with a virus transmitted by an insect vector. The horror is set loose on the world by a man driven mad by injustice and oppression. In a novel spanning three hundred years the vampire is both killer and victim of humanity.

Just a quick post, folks. We have a new blogger joining us. Timothy C. Hobbs is another Vamplit author like myself. I’m very excited to have him join R.J. and I. He’s been with Vamplit from the very beginning and has three books available, which are listed to the right. I just happen to be one of his biggest fans, LOVING his ability to weave amazing horror tales. Tim writes #fridayflash as well and will post along with me starting this week.

I pulled this bio about him from Smashwords so you can get to know him better. You can also click on his books to the right if you would like to purchase one of his titles.


Timothy C. Hobbs is a 59 year-old retired Medical Technologist living in Robinson, Texas. He wrote his first short story in the sixth grade and at the time I believed the title of The Vampire of England to be quite original. The main character, Alucard, was Dracula in reverse. He still has that penciled, long-hand manuscript.

The year 2005 was his first actual money sales experience. He sold a short story and a flash fiction piece to Dark Tales (Autumn 2005 Issue#7 and Autumn 2006 Issue#9) a U.K. publication, and a short story to spinetinglermag.com (Fall 2005 Issue#4) a Canadian on-line publication. He has published short stories and poems in New Texas, an annual literary journal in 2000, 2001 and 2003. A collection of his short horror fiction, Mothertrucker and Other Stories, from Amazon.com.

The Pumkin Seed published by Vamplit Publishing in 2009 was Timothy Hobbs first published novel. He is now working with his editor at Vamplit Publishing on a collection of stories based on popular fairytales. The Smell of Ginger is the first to be produced as an eBook. The whole collection will be published together under the title Once Upon a Time in Texas some time in 2011.

Timothy C. Hobbs is a consumate horror writer and his stories are both horrific and beautifully crafted.

Sucky Monday

Posted by W.J. Howard

It’s a sucky Monday, starting the week with bad news, so I totally forgot about posting an update. All I’ve wanted to do today is immerse myself in writing and editing my next three #fridayflash stories so I don’t have to think about it.

And speaking of #fridayflash, I released two stories last week if you missed them. Links to #fridayflash are back in the right column. Top 2 are most current.

No new news on the release of The Courier, but I did get all my biography info done and sent to my publisher last week.

No Bloodlegger news this week either.

Why so little news? I’m still busily working on the Bloody Heart’s Valentine’s Day Blog Hop, hosted by my publisher Vamplit Publishing. It’s a bit time consuming setting up a new event and most of my time was spent last week finding sponsors. We are set with a few big ones including Drive Thru Fiction, so now I’m starting a week of finding bloggers.

Nothing else this week from R.J. and I. Back to editing.

#fridayflash How to Ruin Dracula’s New Year

Trying to catch up on stories I’ve written but not edited this year for #fridayflash. This week I’m posting my Undead New Year’s story and earlier this week I posted 4 and 20 Clowns (Part 1). Enjoy! -W.J. Howard


I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to harvest all the blood donors for Dracula’s New Year’s Eve celebration. This might have been an easy job if it weren’t for the frigid temperatures in Time Square, one of the coldest in recorded history in fact.

Do you have any idea what fifteen below zero does to a vampire? I mean our blood is cold to begin with and when it’s this cold we’re sluggish unless we’re constantly feeding on warm blood.

I guess I should back up and mention I volunteered to gather six hundred and sixty six donors for a New Year’s Eve Celebration hosted by Dracula’s clan every hundred years. Considering our life span, I suppose the holiday is only worthy to celebrating that often. Vampires from all around the world attend the event, which is more of an orgy and gluttonous feast.

Anyways, I wasn’t invited to the last bash despite my five hundred years as a vampire. You see, I’m a bit of a fuck up. I’ve never been considered worthy of Dracula’s close circle let alone an attendee at a social event, at least until I volunteered for this mission. If all goes well, I’ll be painting the party red with the best of the community in just a few short hours. If I can’t prove my devotion to Dracula, I have no idea what they’ll do to me.

Now, I stand on the rooftop, overlooking Time Square and a crowd of unsuspecting blood donors waiting for the ball to drop. My only hope is I can pull this off.

My original plan was to fly in and pluck a donor at a time out of the crowd like an apple off a tree. That way no one would notice what I was doing, considering my ability to move faster than the human eye can see, and even faster than most other vampires. It’s my gift. But the frigid cold has slowed me down, and I’ve only collected a hundred so far. In fact, my body is stiffening so fast that I have to warm myself by draining two out of every ten I lift to the rooftop.

“What the hell is going on up here?”

It’s Ingrid, the event planner for the celebration, and the only one willing to give me this chance. Wicked vamp but a real tight ass.

“It’s the cold. It’s slowing me down.”

“You’re sucking up all the blood for the party.” Ingrid swept her hands over a nearby pile of dead bodies, already frosting over from the cold.

“What did you not understand about the cold slowing–”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. You promised me you could do this.”

“I need help.”

“Help?” Ingrid sighed and put her hands on her curvy hips. “How about you help me explain to Dracula why we have to cancel tonight’s blood orgy.”

Ingrid’s the biggest bitch in the New York Vampire community and I knew she’d have me staked if I didn’t follow through. So I lied. “I’ll get it done. Come back in an hour.”

The sound of Ingrid’s heals faded while I glanced back down on the crowd below. I figured I had two choices, grab five at a time and risk being noticed or get staked. So I went with Plan A.

I descended upon the crowd in a flash and was able to grab three donors. Again and again I swooped down increasing my load to capacity. Gathering up more people was tricky, still it was going faster and the more times I dived the easier it was to juggle donors.

By the twentieth dip I took a break and sucked down the blood of two young, corn fed blondes I could tell were from out of town. That’s when I heard panic from the streets below. No one suspected a vampire though. They were screaming out, “terrorists.”

The threat spread like a wave over the crowd and two-hundred-thousand people scattered like ants with no regard for who they stepped over.

Shit! It was one thing to snatch up donors, standing still, but they were all in motion now. It didn’t stop me though. I collected as many as I could as fast as I could until I was forced to take another break.

This time I fed on locals until my gut would take in no more and blood regurgitated back up my throat and out my nose. The problem was it didn’t warm me nearly enough to get me back to max speed, and I was only half way to my quota.

As I swooped back down on the crowd, I was surprised by how quickly the crowd had disbursed. There were hundreds of humans, trampled and lying on the ground begging for help though. Easy pickings, I thought.

“Look!” A man in the crowd on the ground pointed upward.

He saw me, so I swooped in and grabbed him next along with three motionless bodies beside him and a lost child sobbing to his right. Upward I flew, struggling to reach the rooftop, but my momentum slowed. Just three floors short of the rooftop, my grip stiffened and paralyzed, and I dropped my load. The more I struggled to fly upward and save myself, the colder I grew until I shattered like glass into millions of shards that rained down on Time Square.

I had ruined Dracula’s New Year’s Eve celebration.

While I expected I was dead and gone forever, Dracula had other plans. He sent Ingrid out to sweep up the shards of me and place them in a lava lamp where surprisingly my awareness remains along with an eternal desire for blood. Ingrid’s in here too, nagging and picking at me as I float in slow motion around the nastiest blood sucking bitch, a fate worse than Hell.

#fridayflash 4 and 20 Clowns (Part 1)


This is last week’s #fridayflash for Vamplit, but unfortunately I’m starting the new year behind on editing. Part 2 will come next week with a story about Mardi Gras. Also posted this week is How to Ruin Dracula’s New Year. Hope you enjoy. -W.J. Howard

On their way home from fishing in their favorite pond, Kevin lagged back behind his older brother Matt and Matt’s friend Joey. He had stopped to slip out of his shoes, then tied them together and tossed them over his shoulder. They wouldn’t stay on his feet anyways, seeing as they were stretched and torn hand-me-downs previously worn by two older brothers.

“Hurry up,” Matt turned his head and called back to his little brother. “Mom’ll kill us if we’re late for dinner again.”

Kevin picked up three fishing poles and the tackle box the boys had packed up just minutes ago. He had lost the usual bet as to who would catch the most fish, loser having to carry home all the gear.

“C’mon,” Matt said through his teeth.

“Help me,” Kevin whined.

“You lost the bet, you hall the load,” Joey said.

“I’m telling Mom.”

“You tell mom you’ll never go fishing with us again,” Matt assured his brother.

Tears welled in Kevin’s eyes and he bit his lip until something caught his attention to the left of where the boys stood. “What’s that.” He pointed off trail and into a thick cluster of aspen trees.

“Stop stalling.” Matt turned back away from Kevin. “We’ve got to get home.”

Joey did check out the sight and now pointed as well in the same direction. “Whoa, where did that come from?”

The three boys gathered together at the side of the trail and stared for several minutes at a red and white stripped tent that came to a point at the top. Above it a large red flag flapped in the wind with the words ‘circus’ written across it.

The forest fell silent with no song bird or rustling tree to be heard. Then all at once a gust of wind streamed over the boys, tickling their faces and tussling their hair. With it the muffled sound of circus organ music was heard from inside the forest.

“The circus is in town.” Kevin said happily and ran into the forest.

Remembering his father’s frequent warnings about venturing off the path, Matt called out to his brother. “Get back here.”

Joey held his hands up to his mouth and added through a makeshift megaphone, “There could be perverts in there.”

Both the boys laughed.

Nevertheless, it was as if Kevin couldn’t hear a word either boy was saying. He stopped only when he reached the tent flap and was intent on finding a way in. Another gust of wind answered his bidding as the air current lifted and waved a string up and across the back of Kevin’s hand. He dropped the tackle box, grabbed the string and pulled at the canvas door then stared into the a dark opening.

“Don’t you go in there,” Matt called out to his brother.

But it was too late. Kevin had already gone inside.

Matt looked at Joey and sighed. “We have to go get him.”

“You get him. I’m going home.”

“You can’t leave us here. Kevin has your fishing pole and tackle.”

Joey’s eyes widened when he remembered Kevin still held his father’s most expensive fishing pole. Joey had snuck it from the garage that morning, and had bragged that he was using the most expensive fishing pole in the world all day. “Crap,” he said then hung his head, “let’s go.”

The boys weaved between the dense aspen trees, wondering how a tent of its size could fit is such a tight space. Besides that the music sounded so distant the closer they got to the tent.

“Do you think there’s a show going on in there?” Joey asked.

“Do you hear an audience?” Matt slapped Joey in the back of the head then pushed him toward the tent flap, motioning him to enter first.

“I’m just saying, I don’t want to get in trouble for sneaking in.” Joey pulled at the strap on the door flap and pulled it opened. “Wow.”

Inside the tent the boys fixed their eyes upon a circus the size of the greatest show on earth. The place was barely lit and no one was there besides the boys, not even a caretaker. Three spectacular rings contained a lion’s cage and trapeze in the farthest two rings. Within feet of where they stood, a clown car barely large enough for Kevin to sit inside was parked in the third ring.

After a long pause, Kevin said, “We should tell Mom and Dad the circus is in town. I bet they’d take us.”

“Look at that car.” Joey slowly stepped toward the edge of the ring painted a bright red. “Let’s drive it.”

“Yeah, let’s drive it,” Kevin repeated as he dropped the fishing poles and let his shoes roll off his shoulder. He then ran after Joey and his brother.

All at once, a spotlight shined on the clown car and its engine started with a roar. With it, the circus music stopped playing.

The three boys halted and froze in place. Matt and Joey looked at each other astonished then back at the car bouncing to the sound of the growling motor.

The car door thrust opened and with it a gust of scorching air enveloped the boys. A transparent clown followed, dressed in a baggy red and black pajama like suit. Its long green hair writhered upward and his black lips barely cover his sharply pointed and discolored teeth. Blood shot eyes beat down on the boys as it opened its mouth to the size of a lion’s, and with it a flame like tongue whipped outward.


“Run” Matt yelled, but it had happened so fast that all of the boys were already half way to the door. Not until they reached the steps of Joey’s porch did they stop, hunched over and panting to catch their breath.

Finally, Joey said, “We have to go back.”

“Are you nuts?” Matt stared at his friend with a puckered brow.

“We left the fishing gear. My dad’s fishing pole.”

“Tell him to buy a new one.” Kevin pulled at the back of his older brother’s shirt. “Let’s go home.”

“No!” Joey shouted after his friends. “That pole cost a thousand dollars. We’ll all be in trouble if we don’t get it back.”

Kevin then felt a burning in his feet and looked down at them. “My shoes, Matt. I left my shoes too.”

Kevin sighed. “I guess we’re all going back.”

Three weeks in…

Posted by W.J. Howard

…and I’m already late posting our weekly update. “Behind” is today’s word, boys and girls.

Novel News

Anyways, no new news on the release of The Courier. Cross your fingers for next week.

Am spending the rest of this week catching up on 4 short stories I’ve written for Friday Flash and Grand Scares, volume 2. I’ll have a couple out tomorrow and the other two by the end of the week, so stay tuned for some FREE fun fiction to read.

No Bloodlegger news this week, but I am attempting to bug R.J. about our progress as I’m writing this. Only we’re discussing his team, the Packer’s loss instead.

Networking News

I’m busily working on setting up the Bloody Heart’s Valentine’s Day Blog Hop, hosted by my publisher Vamplit Publishing. We have a facebook and Google+ page and everything. Yeah, that was meant to be sarcastic. What’s exciting is we’ll be working withe Dark Media City on this hop along with many other indie publishers, filmmakers, artists, etc. so there will be an amazing selection of horror to choose from on Valentine’s Day.

The biggest news in networking is I’m partnering with my dear friend Rebekah Welch, The Colorado Connector on a new project. Rebekah and I have worked together in the past, so getting this up and running should be a breeze. We are starting a division of her networking group for creative geniuses across the Denver metro area.

Nifty News

I heard somewhere that beagles are the most used dog in labs due to their incredible sniffers. Glad to see these guys will have a future filled with love and mischief, like our little Mabel who spent the first 7 years of her life in a cage barefoot and pregnant.

In 2012


Post by W.J. Howard

2011 was a very productive year, and I personally wouldn’t want to read back through my accomplishments, so enough said. Plans for 2012 are just as aggressive and we’ll be sharing them in Monday posts going forward. I promise they won’t be nearly as long as this post, which is an overview of the year ahead.

First to happen this year, the release of episode one of The Courier. It’s happenin’ this month folks, but no specific date. Which leads me to the whole episode experiment. I’ve only touched on what Vamplit Publishing and I have done to the whole Courier series so here’s the scoop.

I originally caved and wrote 300 page novels for the first three books in The Courier series because that’s what I was told the publishing industry wanted, especially from new authors. I’ve never wanted that length for each of the The Courier novels, instead aiming for Novella sized books. I also wanted to write a never-ending chronicle of Barry’s adventures with cliffhangers, which I’d also heard the publishing industry frowns upon because it forces new readers to start at the beginning of the series. Well, I have to say that this changing industry sure has worked to my advantage, because I’m back to my original plan. The Courier is now separated into 75-100 page episodes that will release quarterly.

Why this format you ask? If it’s a good story, people who love to read will read it. I wanted The Courier to appeal to young adults who hate reading–like both my sons–but are forced to read in junior high and high school. From my experience with my sons, short stories that read more like a graphic novel are easier for them to digest. Just looking at a thick book would stress them out, but finishing short reads gave them a sense of accomplishment. I also enjoy quick reads that I can get through in a night or two, so why not experiment with this format.

R.J. and I are bringing back Bloodleggers this year, also publishing it in short episodes. We’re self-publishing it under Black Orchid Publishing, a company I started in 2005 for another business I ran back then. There will be three releases a year instead of four, the first part due out May 1st. More to come in the next few weeks as we add a page here for the series.

All the writing and formatting of the episodes also got me thinking about a subscription distribution system last year, which we’ll offer later this year, Bloodleggers being our beta test novel.

It’s a NaNoWriMo Year! I skipped it last year but R.J. took a stab at it. This year we’re both entering although I’m not sure if we’ll be writing a story together or separately.

Last but not least, Friday Flash continues this year, individual stories released Fridays here and in the Vamplit Blog. Collections of the stories will release in Grand Scares though Black Orchid Publishing bi-annually as well. I got a bit side tracked around the holidays so unfortunately the first volume has been delayed, but will release in the next couple weeks.

And speaking of the Vamplit Blog, my other home, we have a number of projects scheduled for 2012 which I’ll keep you updated on in Monday posts.

I plan to get back into local networking in Denver this year, in particular planning recommences for After Enough Wine a women’s organization I’m founding with a couple close friends. So more blogging over there and lots of wine tasting in 2012, YAY!

I won’t bore you with anymore details so I have something to post next week. Here’s to a happy and fruitful year ahead for R.J. and I.

Holiday Entertaining

Leave a comment here about your own holiday traditions and everyone wins a free copy of The Courier, Episode 1, Call for Obstruction.

This week we’re sharing our holiday entertaining traditions in the Vamplit Blog. It’s all about family when it comes to entertaining at our house. The biggie is a New Years brunch that we host. Lots and lots of food and festivities. And, we have a topic for New Years over in the Vamplit Blog later this month, so I’ll save all the details for then.

We don’t attend many holiday parties, just because there don’t seem to be as many as there used to be, especially of the workplace type. So far this year we’ve missed the first we were invited to attend due to my never-ending flu. No one wanted to host a neighborhood party/cookie exchange, and if I’m not better, we’ll miss my critique group’s party too. As you can tell, I’m a bit perturbed that I can’t seem to fight off this crud.

On a happy note, our Christmas entertaining is changing this year. Michael and I usually spend the evening alone, sharing really good steaks, lobster and crab legs with our spoiled beagles. This year both my sons and future daughter in-law will join us. YAY! I planned a more elaborate meal this year, still with the steak and seafood, and I expect the boardgames will come out as well.

What are your family entertaining traditions?

Week 3 & 4 Holiday Horror Movie Marathon

Apologies to all for missing last week’s holiday horror movie post. I’ve been laid up sick and considering the time of year, really want to enjoy the season without an illness. So, this week you get a double dose of movie reviews from me. What did I watch? Not much but a few really good one.

Night Train Murders is set around the Christmas holiday, but is more a variation of Wes Craven’s, Last House on the Left. Taking place instead on a train, two young girls are terrorized by two young thugs and a depraved proper lady. This is an excellent film and in my opinion, much better than Craven’s film. The build up to the brutal rapes and murders was at a perfect pace despite criticism. The film gave the viewer more of a chance to connect and sympathize with the girls which was necessary considering the plot. Much of the brutality was suggested, which had a better effect psychologically. Macha Meril, the female passenger instigating much of the depravity really stands out in this movie. Her performance gave me chills, especially at the end of the movie when one of the girl’s father gets his revenge. Also notable in this film is the beautiful outdoor scenery, including a scene where one of the girls is thrown from the train. This will be one of my favorites this holiday season and I give it 4 1/2 out of 5 rabid reindeer bites.

By any chance do you remember that The Legend of Hell House is set right before Christmas? I’d forgotten and it wasn’t that long ago I’d re-watched it. I LOVE this film. It is one of the best haunted house movies ever made, so of course it was high on my watch list for this movie marathon. Not much holiday activity going on though, and considering it is a widely viewed film, I’ll just give it 5 out of 5 rabid reindeer bites and move on.

Another children’s film, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians will be on my least favorite list this holiday season. Now I think I’ve established that I’m still a kid at heart and continue to enjoy children’s entertainment, but this movie would have put me to sleep when I was a kid. I couldn’t even enjoy it as a bad B-movie. I guess the first indication came when the children of Mars were only happy while watching Earth television programming for kids. Anyways, you want to know more about how bad this film is, look it up yourself. I give it 1/2 out of 5 rabid reindeer bites.

Don’t forget to leave a comment on the current week’s Holiday Horror Movie Marathon post over on the Vamplit blog to enter a weekly drawing to win a free Vamplit novel of your choice. Winners announced following Tuesday.

Christmas Decorations

Leave a comment here about your own holiday traditions and everyone wins a free copy of The Courier, Episode 1, Call for Obstruction.

We celebrate Christmas, so our house is filled with the traditional decorations. One of my favorite things to do is clutter the fireplace with Christmassy junk. To the right is a picture I captured of one of our dogs, Howie, beside the fireplace. There are usually doggie chews up where he’s looking, replaced with decorations. He’s not so happy. What a precious picture though.

Then there is my favorite ornaments, which were given to me after my grandmother died. Pictured left, these are probably cheap dime store ornaments that are over 50 years old, but to me there is so much family history attached to them that I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

One other mentionable are my homemade decorations. I LOVE making something new every year and here are just a few magnets I’ve made over the last ten years or so. I’ve made dozens of some of these for my sons holiday parties at school. Now, with both of them being out of school, they remind me of when they were young. Has me looking forward to all the wonderful decorations I’ll be making with my grandchildren.

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