Tuesday, September 17, 2013


Bring back the Old Time vamps!

No sparkles…no sensitivity…no moaning and groaning (except in ecstasy) about his immortality…

Vampires should be more like Dracula, Count Ruthven and Sir Francis Varney, the Big Three, the original literary vampires, all “mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”  To know them was to love them…and meet a quick death thereafter.

Any who followed after should follow their lead and march proudly down the corridors of Time, loving every century of it.

If there are rules, they should be the ones set down long ago by Bram Stoker:

*avoid sunlight,

*no garlic allowed,

*easy on the crosses and holy water,

*keep plenty of native soil around,

*bring on the virgins!

When I wrote, Death in the Blood, I wanted to make it different, not only by reverting to the earlier portrait of the vampire, but by following through on the fact that the Undead are immortal. I mean…why begin it in the past and end it in the present? Most vampire tales stop when they get to the present even if the vampires continue to exist.  Why?  If someone’s living forever, then prove it by looking ahead. Immortal means just that…it goes on forever

As Buzz Lightyear said, “To Infinity and Beyond!

At the moment, I can think of only one other writer who’s taken his vampires into the future and I imagine you know who I mean, Cynthia…a certain Mike Arsuaga with his Progeny of Evolution series. Before I’m deluged with emails stating, “I did that, too!” let me say: I imagine there may be others, but I’m not aware of them.

So… As I later did with The Night Man Cometh, I started the story in the past and took it into the future.

Christopher Landless is my latest Undead creation and he follows the lead set by Damien laCroix, Vlad Chemare, the Andriescus, and Karel Novotny.  He’s a thief and an opportunist. He just makes the mistake of robbing the wrong person. Instead of a handful of jewelry, he gets immortality instead. Oh, Kit has a bit more conscience than his nosferatu brethren. He still remembers what it was to be human, but when it gets right down to the nitty and the gritty, he fights to save those like himself and not humans. In spite of that, I believe I’ve managed to make him a “hero” readers will like.

Kit’s story stretches from 1794 to the year 2580. For a while, Man and Vampire managed to live side-by-side peacefully, then a terrible event occurs making humans decide vampires are too dangerous to be allowed to go free. They’re imprisoned in concentration camps, on islands surrounded by moats of blessed water.

It was a challenge to fall back on the expected way of containing and fighting vampires while transforming them into futuristic forms. Staying true to the original genre while updating it to near-science fiction was a definite test of originality and writing skills. I believe I managed it adequately. At least I hope I did.

...Mankind admitted vampires exist?
...Vampires followed Man into the stars, inhabiting every plant in the galaxy?
...They solved the "Vampire Problem" by putting the Undead in concentration camps?
What would happen if someone decided to destroy the imprisoned nosferatu?
Would the police investigate?
Should they?
Forced to assist Lieutenant Katherine Dalia in the case, vampire Christopher Landless fights desire and thirst to uncover a motive of long-lingering revenge as both vampire and mortal discover old crimes never go unpunished.


Someone was moaning, a low hurt-animal whimpering. It was several seconds before Kit realized the sound was coming from his own mouth. He opened his eyes, seeing...nothing...

            Solid, blank, blackness.

            Merciful God, I'm blind! He needed to rub his eyes. His right hand… Something hampered the movement. What the Hell? He flexed his fingers, thrust them out. They curled around a thick cylindrical shape. A bed post. His right wrist, as well as his left, was tied to a bed post. He tried to move his legs. They, too, had been bound.

            By now, his eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark. He could make out a door. There was also the faint frame of a window with moonlight filtering through an opening in heavy curtains, large dark blocks that were furniture, the bed’s shadow-draped canopy…and himself.


            What the devil’s going on?  Naked and tied spread-eagle to a bed. In the dark. This has to be a dream, a nightmare. Aye, that’s it! And in a little while, he’d awaken and find himself face down on one of the Coachman’s splinter-rough tables, having once more swilled himself brainless on that bad ale the barkeep sold. With Nolly Jack and Ned and all the others laughing at him.

            He relaxed, waiting for the dream to fade. Waiting to awaken.

            It didn’t happen.

            I’m awake. This is real. While he was unconscious, someone had brought him to this place, stripped him, and trussed him to the bed posts. Who did it? Why?

            In anger Kit jerked his right hand, trying to wrench it free of the ropes, his struggles becoming more furious as his bonds refused to yield. It was only as he felt skin tear and sticky wetness trickle down one wrist that he lay still again. He had to get free but ripping his flesh apart wasn’t the way to do it.

            “Hello? Is anyone there?” He raised his head. When there was no sound other than the dying echo of his own voice, he broke into movement again. “Damn it, answer me!”

            In fury, he broke into a flurry of movement. That only served to rock the bed and abrade his wrists even more. And then…

…the door opened. She came in. His intended victim.

            The glow from the candle she carried spread warmth upon her pale skin, shadowing her face with planes and hollows. It highlighted the crimson night rail into a liquid softness, a dark red river clinging to her breasts and flowing over hips and thighs. She glided rather than walked to the bed, stopping to look down at Kit.

            “So…my young thief, you’re awake. How do you feel?” Her voice was low and beautiful now that it wasn’t strident with fury.

            “What kind of question is that?” He didn’t try to hide his anger. How do I feel? I feel like Hell!”

            “I doubt that.” Her lips quivered as if suppressing a smile. “Though you very well may before this night is over.”

Tony-Paul can be found at:

Twitter @tpvissage

Thanks for sharing your vision of vampires with everyone today, Tony-Paul! Good luck with all your sales.

Cynthia Arsuaga