Saturday, September 20, 2014

Black September - Chapter 1




Cassandra Flynn went through the dresses hanging in the wardrobe of her boudoir. It seemed to be filled with black and navy dresses but today was to be different. She finally settled on a long sleeved empire dress, white with an azure ribbon beneath the bodice. She rang for her ladies maid to come help her dress. She was a beautiful young woman, 25 years of age. Her face was slender with high cheekbones separated by soft gray eyes, a crown of thick auburn hair tied in a braid lay around her shoulder. Her lithe figure concealed the fact she had already birthed three children. 

It seemed a lifetime ago that she had married Henry. He was a junior solicitor in her father's law firm and had shown himself to be a rising star at the firm. After completing an especially successful contract negotiation, her father asked him to join the family for supper. It wasn't until much later she discovered he had hopes that Henry and his eldest daughter might form an attachment. The seating was arranged such that Henry and Cassandra would be seated next to each other affording them the chance to become better acquainted.  

At 17 Cassandra was in her first bloom and had only just started to think of marriage though there was no one waiting in the wings. She had little experience with men outside her own family. She'd met Henry before and liked him well enough but had never thought him a potential husband. At 25 he seemed positively ancient but she was sensitive to the fact that marry she must and a man regarded highly by her father was someone she should at least become better acquainted with. 
During dinner she discovered him to have a wonderful sense of humour and a gift for gab; he kept her entertained throughout the meal. After supper they adjourned to the drawing room where they were partnered in a game of whist where once again he kept her, her sister and brother entertained for the entire game. 

When at 18 she came out into society at a cotillion he had been there. To her great pleasure they danced three times and her father was not at all displeased. It was that night Cassandra admitted to herself she was becoming attached to Mr. Flynn. After six months of dinners, balls and long walks he offered her his hand in marriage and she accepted him. Both she and her father were equally pleased. 
They married in the Spring just before nineteenth birthday. The first two years were easy and her first pregnancy was without trouble and Catherine was a healthy baby. In just three years she had gone from young maiden to become a wife and a mother. Shortly after the birth of her second child, James, was born two years later their idyll would come to an end when a third pregnancy followed shortly after the second.
***************************

They lived in a three level Georgian home in Dublin Ireland’s Rutland Square. A modest home of the time, it had six bedrooms on the upper floors each having it’s own parlour, two drawing rooms on the first with a dining hall and breakfast room as well. 
After she'd finished dressing she'd gone downstairs where she entered the library, sat at her writing desk and began to compose a letter;


“1 January 1805,


Dearest Charlotte,

I apologize for my tardiness in writing and I hope this letter finds you well. 
I have finally come to the end of my mourning. The death of James broke my heart. James at three years had become a little person. We would go to the park for walks and he would speak to me in his little voice we would converse about the birds and flowers. A part of me went to the grave with my little boy. Yet life must go on. 

 Priscilla was not yet 4 months. While I loved her as only a mother can I was not so attached as I was to my son. Perhaps it was unwise not to hire a wet nurse. Having all three suckle at my breast brought me very near to both of them. Will I do it again when another child comes along? Most likely.  Even though childhood is a risky time for the children and myself I could not love my children too much.
Henry will be pleased to have his wife back. Not that Henry did not love them both, he loved them dearly but a mother becomes far more attached. It’s my shame to say I was not there to help with his grief as he was for my own.

Catherine is doing well. She is young in age yet old beyond her years. She understands my grief. She is always there to comfort me and tell me of her love for me. If anything should happen to Catherine, I don’t think I could continue.  My heart would be completely broken. 
But enough of this sadness.

How are you Lottie? Our brother is doing well in his new situation? Father told me you looked healthy and happy on his recent visit. Are you still seeing Mr. Bentley? I wonder if we’ll soon  hear news on that account?

Do you think you can come to visit next summer? Catherine would so love to see you. She dearly loves her favourite aunt. I too would love to spend time with you, too. It’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to catch up on the latest news.

I hear Henry arriving so I must say goodbye for now. Please write soon, Charlotte.

Your loving sister,

Cassandra”


Henry Flynn was a Dublin solicitor; he advised the well to do of the city on business matters. He was a man of thirty and three with dark wavy hair showing just a few flecks of gray and a fair angular face; he wore a blue waist coat, matching trousers with a white shirt and cravat. 
He entered the drawing room and was met by Cassandra. She approached him, put her hand on his shoulder and welcomed him home with a kiss. He was startled to find his wife so gaily dressed in white as opposed to the somber attire she had chosen since the death of their son.

 “My dear Henry,” she began as she lay her head over his heart,  “Thank you for being so patient with me. I know I have mourned James’s death overly long but I am finished as of today. I will cherish him always but I want to be your wife again; I want to be the mother Catherine deserves.”
“Welcome back Cassandra! I have missed you so.” and tenderly embraced his wife. The governess, Marianne,  came  to the doorway with 7 year old Catherine in hand.   Her mother and father turned and smiled to her and the nanny released her hand. 

“Father!”, the little girl cried as she came quickly across the room and put her arms around her father.
“Don’t forget your mum,”

Cassandra bent down and turned her head so that her child could kiss her cheek. Cassandra had not ignored her daughter but in her grief had not always been there to give her the affection she needed.
“Tell cook we’ll be having supper together tonight”, Cassandra said to Marianne. During her mourning she had frequently taken meals alone.

“Right away, Mum.”

When the Marianne arrived at the door of the kitchen she cried, “The misses has a white dress on; she looks happy! They will be having supper together tonight!”
“Perhaps this will be a happy house once again”, the cook said smiling broadly
While not quite merry, the family's supper was more lively than it had been for months. 
“What say you we take a turn by the square when supper has finished? I’ve not had fresh air all week”.

“Of course, my love. Catherine, would you like to join your mother and I?”

When supper had ended and the dishes were carried away all gathered in the anteroom. The warmth of spring was in the air and summer was quickly approaching.  Still they donned their coats and hats to guard against any sudden chill.

Once outside the conversation became more animated as Catherine reviewed her lessons of the day.
“The French is doing well Miss Taylor has told me. My needle point is coming along. A little more of that and she will show me how to make a dress for myself. Piano forte is the most difficult; reading music especially. The playing itself is coming along though longer fingers would certainly help.”
Her mother laughed at this. “Your hands will grow in time my darling. Keep up, the reading of notes is necessary if you are to be lively at parties and a pleasure to those around you.”

They took several turns around the square until it began to grow cool and dark. Returning home Catherine was put in the care of Marianne who would dress her for bed.

“I feel the need to be especially kind towards dearest Catherine. Shall we go upstairs and say goodnight?”

Henry gazed upon his wife lovingly, “Of course we shall. Bring a candle and lead the way.”  
Catherine smiled as her mother tucked her under the covers. She read to her from The History of Little Goody Two Shoes for ten minutes then kissed her goodnight. Once Cassandra and Henry  had exited to the hallway she whispered, “ I’ve begun to make amends to Catherine tonight. I would like to do the same with you.” 

She inclined her face towards his and he gently kissed her full rosy lips.
“You’ve nothing to atone for, my love. I have never doubted your love.”
“Then come to my bed this night. Don't think of it as atonement but my need for your tender touch.” 
“It is only but 9:00 o’clock.” he paused to put his arms around her, “You saucy little thing! I’ll meet you in your chambers in ten minutes.”

They departed their separate ways, she to her chambers and he to his. Ten minutes later he gently rapped on her door. She bade him to enter and he backed into the room quietly closing the door behind him. He turned and to his surprise he found his wife sitting up in her bed, covers pulled to her waist. The light of a single candle illuminated the side Cassandra’s face and breast. She was a vision of loveliness, her long hair untied and spilling across her shoulders.

Henry removed his dressing gown and crawled naked onto the bed beside her. Sitting upright he took her into his arms and kissed her gently her lips. Retreating for a moment he softly said, “God, I have missed you so much.” He resumed kissing Cassandra, this time harder on the lips. The tip of his tongue traced the line of her mouth till hers met his in the centre. Henry’s hand reached for and grasped the warmth of her breast; cupping it from below, he gently took it into his grasp then kneaded the soft flesh. He moved his thumb to her nipple and rubbed the nub quickly then lightly pinched it. Cassandra moaned, took his hand in hers then pushed it down toward her waist. She felt her need arising. Together they slid beneath the covers. 

His wandering hand found its way to the more intimate parts of his wife’s body. Teasing her, he tugged at her outer lips, “Open for me, Darling, let me come inside.” he whispered in her ear. 
Cassandra was breathing hard, “ I want you so badly!” She said, wrapping her hand around his engorged cock. She found herself staring at his muscular chest, leaned forward and took his nipple into her mouth. Henry gave a little gasp. 

Perhaps it was the euphoria of the moment or maybe the letting go of her grief but she had the sudden desire to devour this man. She played with the other nipple then moving toward the centre of his chest she kissed her way down to his naval.
 
“Where are you going, Love?
”
Cassandra answered with a grunt then continued her journey down his body.
She soon found herself eye to eye with Henry’s manhood. She had never seen it this close up. She pulled down it’s hood and could not resist the temptation to kiss it’s soft mushroom top. She wrapped her hand around the shaft then took half of the organ into her mouth. To her delight it grew harder and larger.

Cassandra returned to Henry's side. He forcefully pushed her on her back, spread her legs and plunged into her. She put his hands on his ass and pushed him in as far as he could go. 
Henry fucked her hard and fast. As her body started to tense she reached down with her hand and began to rub her little jewel, faster and faster until she began to feel her love channel start to contract. She let out a cry as her body fell over the edge into a blissful orgasm.

Henry continued thrusting until Cassandra could feel every muscle in his body go taught. He let out a grunt, pulled out and shot his load all over her tummy. 
Cassandra was shocked. He had never done such a thing before. Hovering over her body still he whispered, "You're not ready for another child and neither am I." 

Finished, they lay in each other’s arms. Cassandra spoke, “I am still young, Henry. I hope to give you more children and a son to be your heir.”

As she said it even her heart was begging that she not become pregnant from this night of love.  She had taken precautions earlier but they weren't always effective.

“Worry not about such as this. I am not so old either. Let us take time to enjoy ourselves and our family such as it is. If more children come, so be it. You are not my broodmare. You're my wife, my love and a beautiful woman .”


* * * * * * * ** * * * * * * *
Life returned to its normal routine. Cassandra and Catherine were able to spend a great deal of time outdoors walking through the city. On some occasions they would join a party of friends for an excursion to the countryside. 
By September the temperatures had begun to decline and a group of friends formed for a final excursion to the green hills outside the confines of the city A woman Cassandra was not acquainted with joined the party on this time out, so Cassandra made the effort to make her acquaintance. Jane and her son joined them for the picnic lunch that was packed for the happy event. 
It was early Fall and the temperature had already begun to dip so the party had dressed more warmly, The women and girls in a heavier shawl than previously and the boys all had all donned jackets. As the women conversed Catherine and Jane’s boy Sean were speaking together as well.
In the course of the festivities Sean had a bout of coughing. All the festivities came to a halt. A coughing child posed a danger to all. Jane hurried Sean away from the others. The servants were called to gather up the remains of the dinner and all headed to the carriages for the ride back to town. 
Three days passed without incident and Catherine resumed her studies but on the fourth day she had a bout of the cough. The following day day the cough became frequent and harder. By evening her temperature had risen and tea was served in the upstairs parlour Cassandra stayed by her and coaxed her daughter to eat something though she had little appetite. The cough grew worse, ending each time in a high pitched whine. The doctor was called to examine her. After the exam he motioned for Cassandra and Henry to join him outside the room. He had a somber look on his face when he told them that Catherine bore all the symptoms of the chin-cough, (whooping cough).
“I am seeing more and more children and some adults with this ailment. I will be honest and tell you that not all survive. There is but one treatment for this malady and that is to keep her warm, comfortable and pray. A small amount of laudanum when the cough grows fierce may be of some help.” 

Catherine was never left alone. Her mother stayed by her side through the night, Marianne was there in the day while Cassandra caught a few hours of much needed sleep. 
On the third day the girl’s condition improved. Her fever had gone down; all breathed a sigh of relief. On the following night the cough returned with a vengeance. As midnight approached the laudanum the doctor had left ran out. 

Cassandra was in a panic. Someone had to go to town, wake up the chemist and procure some more. Catherine’s governess Marianne was sleeping so Cass called her ladies maid to watch
over the girl whilst she went out on the errand. She trusted only herself for the task. Since they lived in the city the distance was not far. She decided she could walk it faster than waiting for a rig to be prepared. 

She moved quickly through the darkened streets and was soon at the chemist’s shop. He and his family lived above the store; she climbed the stairs and began pounding on the door to the living quarters. A maid servant in a nightgown holding a candle soon answered.
“I must see your master; it’s a matter of life or death”

“But madame, it’s after midnight. Surely this can wait until morning.”

“It won’t. My daughter may be dead by then."
The household had been awakened by the noise and the master of the house was soon at the door in a disheveled state of dress.

“What’s all this noise about?”

“Mr. Barkley I beg you, my Catherine has the chin cough. We thought she was better but the cough returned even worse than before. I desperately need some laudanum.”

Seeing her desperation he replied, “Of course Mrs. Flynn, let me get my coat and key.”
They went down the stairway and were soon in the shop. Inside, Barkley mixed the ingredients and finally the task completed. He handed the bottle to Cassandra wrapped in a handkerchief.  She put the bottle in her clutch and headed for the door.

“You be careful Mrs. Flynn. The glass is thick but the road is dark. It could be tragic if you fell and broke it.”

“I can’t thank you enough Mr. Barkley and I promise to be careful.”

Cassandra exited the chemist’s and quickly made her way home. In the distance she could hear a coach and quickly moved to the right side of the road. Looking over her shoulder she saw the mail coach rapidly approach but could move no further, the buildings flush to the street. It looked as if it would pass but suddenly veered to the right. The side lamp of the coach struck Cassandra hard, tearing the back of her dress as it passed. She was thrown forward then  landed hard on the cobblestone street, breaking her ribs and puncturing a lung. She  attempted to rise from the street but experienced overwhelming pain. Unbeknownst to her she had collapsed a lung as well as punctured a vein. The wounds were mortal yet all she could think of was how she had failed her daughter.

Sabine was a vampire. She looked to be about 25 though in reality she was  more than 200 years old. She was tall for the time, almost 5’ 8” with long slender legs and voluptuous figure. This night they were hidden beneath a dark violet, high-waisted gown with short ruffled sleeves and a satin sash around the waist. Her shoulders and arms were wrapped in a blue shawl, her long black hair piled high on her head, crowned with a jeweled tiara. Her deep blue eyes and pale white skin were offset by the blood red rouge she wore on her lips. 

Sabine was on her way home when she caught the scent of blood. Her appetite was satiated but she was always interested in an easy meal. Sabine expected to find a drunk or one of the many prostitutes working the streets of Dublin and was surprised when she found a Rutland Square matron crumbled on the ground.


She heard the woman whisper; " St. Jude, friend of Jesus, please pray for me who am so miserable; make use of that particular privilege accorded thee of bringing visible and speedy help where help is despaired. Save my daughter, please!"

Help had come,though not from St. Jude. It came in the form of the vampire Sabine.  

Monday, March 31, 2014

Joaquin

The jet landed at Lindbergh Field and Cassandra deplaned. It was about 8:00 and getting quite dark. Once she was out of the terminal she sped on foot to the middle of the parking lot, raised her wings and was aloft. She found her way to the old mission, one of the oldest buildings in California and Joaquin's regular haunt.


Standing by a fountain she was immediately joined by Joaquin.


“What brings you south? It's not the best time of year and few tourists. Thinking of leaving the foggy city up North?”, he smiled.


“I'm afraid not dear friend. I have a problem in San Francisco and I was hoping you might be able to help me with some information.


“Would this problem go buy the name of Samuel?”


“So you know him.”


“Unfortunately. I first met him when he came to Alta California with the miners. He was a cruel and ignorant thief. Has he changed much in the last 160 years?”


“Probably richer and better mannered but still a thief and I believe quite cruel.”


“You be careful me linda cariño .”


“I shall Joaquin. I hope you haven't forgotten that I am powerful and strong in my own right.”


“How could I forget a woman who could beat me in a sword fight! There were some angry hombres that lost a fair amount of money betting on that match! I'm sure in a one on one match you could have Samuel’s head rolling on the floor in no time. But he's not likely to come at you alone and in some way disadvantaged.”


“What can you tell me of him, of his past”


“His is a very strange story.” Joaquin began


“Aren't all of ours?”


“No, You became vampire as an alternative to mortal death. I was imprisoned and destined for the gallows when an ancient Aztec vampire offered me a way out. Our friend Samuel is vampire because of a curse. Back in the early 1800s he was the overseer of slaves in one of the harshest places on the continent, South Carolina. They had just backed away from working slaves to death because of the expense but that doesn't mean they weren't worked very hard. Samuel was an overseer. He rode about the fields on his horse with a whip in hand. If he thought a worker was too slow, that man or woman caught a lash with the whip. If he were really angry he would wait till just before the start of work the next day and tie the unfortunate one to a whipping post and give him or her  as many lashes as he saw fit. I've heard him brag that he killed a few with the whip. Samuel was a man that enjoyed his work. Life was good. Beating black men in the day and whores and drink at night.


Then one day the Master of the plantation bought a new woman slave to work in the house. She was said to know something of mending wounds. The master had actually acquired himself a bruja, a witch and a powerful one, too. It didn't take very many beatings or observations on her part for the bruja to decide something must be done with our dear Samuel. She brewed up some kind of elixir then put it in a punch she served him at days end. The next morning he arose before sunrise as was usual and organized the slaves into work gangs and began marching them to their assigned areas. As he did, the sun began to rise. The more light that filled the sky, the worse he felt. When the full sun came up he became sick in front of the slaves and took to his horse, at a full gallop back to his cabin. He was never to go in the sun again. A week later he was fired from his job and told to vacate the premises. He figured out how to stay out of the sun and how to feed himself but it was hardscrabble the first years.


There were lots of slaves to satisfy his appetite. No one really cared much whether they lived or died; no one with the power to do something anyway. He just ate his way through the South.


He remained poor though. While the slaves had much blood to offer him they had nothing in the way of wealth to enrich him. Then the gold rush came and he made his way to San Francisco where he fed on and robbed people. Today, he's very wealthy and respected. Strange story. As far as anyone knows, he never really died. He enthralled prostitutes to work for him and he was a wealthy vampire in no time. But his greed knew no bounds. He wanted it all.


He made an arrangement with two other vampires that would make San Francisco theirs. Vampires were accosted and told that to stay in San Francisco they had to take booty and give a quarter of it to his gang. Most left because there were plenty of other places to find blood and money in California.


About 2 years ago he tried the prostitution trick again. He found a beautiful young female vampire and tried to use mind power to force her into the game. Mind control is apparently not his strong point for she refused to do it. Angry,he and one of his partners set upon her at her  awakening. They chain her in silver then raped her. I know these things from the other vampires I've encountered. These men like to brag of their activities.


“The woman, what became of her?”


She is still there. They must of threatened her with something because I know it's not for love of these pigs that she stays.”


“Madeleine!”


“Yes, I believe that is her name.”


“Thank you, Joaquin. I feel like I know what I'm dealing with now.”


“You intend to take him on? I know you are powerful and strong but you should have some allies in this fight. I would volunteer but I'm so far away. I couldn't get there in a hurry. Where is Sabine?


“And speaking of hurry's the last plane out leaves in an hour. I should be on it.”


“Please, stay for awhile, Cassandra. I've not seen you in so long and all we've talked about is ese pendejo. I'll call and arrange a private jet to take you home. You won't have to deal with TSA again either.


“ I would like that very much.”


Joaquin took out his phone and called to make the flight arrangements and hung up the phone.


“Your plane leaves at 4:00 and will arrive at 5:00. Will that be enough time for you to get home before sunrise?”


“Yes. Thank you so much.”


“So what shall we do for the next five hours, Cassandra?”


“Well,I'm not hungry, are you? We could get some humans for bed toys and take the bite. Or maybe just you and I alone. ”


“Cassandra, sometimes I wonder about you. Is sex the only thing you think about?”


“Joaquin! It certainly is not! You're an old friend and having finished with this nasty business I thought some pleasure would be good for us both”


“Do you know what would give me the greatest pleasure ,Cass? Talking with a trusted a friend about things that matter. So much the better if that friend is a smart and beautiful woman. I long for just touch and affection.”


“Well, why don't we go to your hacienda and do just that? You have a hot tub don't you?”


“Yes I do but I bet you didn't bring your swimsuit with you.”


“I don't think I even own one. But you have my word. No seduction.”


With that Joaquin and Cassandra spread their wings and headed east to the arid emptiness of the Southern California's desert.


Joaquin's home was a classical Spanish style. It featured curved arches at the front with a garden plaza at the center of which was a blue and white porcelain fountain The building was made of the solid adobe bricks that graced old Mission period buildings, a foot thick to keep the blazing summer heat out. It was covered with a red tile roof. On the whole, a beautiful home.


Joaquin and Cassandra entered the home, the interior of which was a contemporary style. They chatted on a couch and sipped fine Cabernet as the tub filled with water. Once filled they went into the adjacent bedroom and disrobed. Cassandra could not help but take a look at the olive skinned, swarthy body beside her. It reminded her of the men of Cadiz she had seen so long ago. They quickly entered the tub and sat close so they could hear each other over the jets of the water.


“How is it that a handsome and intelligent man like yourself has no partner?”


He lowered his head and said softly, “I did.”


“Do you want to tell me about it?”


“Perhaps I should. It may help me to end this mourning I've been doing for nearly 400 years.”


“I know something of mourning but I want to hear your story.”


“I came to Mexico from Seville in 1648. I was alone then, out to seek my fortune in this place that was supposed to be an El Dorado. I soon found the streets were not paved with gold but a smart and clever man could indeed make a fortune in the new lands. In addition to selling my skills as a builder, I would go to old Indian areas and dig for graves. High ranking Indians were often buried with large amounts of gold and jewels. Yes, I was a grave robber. What did I care. All their families were dead and besides, they were heathens anyway.


One evening, just past sunset, I had been searching inside the ruins of what must have been an old temple of some kind. I saw one block on a wall that looked different from the others. An ideal spot for the tomb of a prince or priest. Greed took hold of me. I lit a torch and began working at the stone with my chisels and hammers. Suddenly, like magic, the stone pushed itself out. Before me stood an ancient Indian nobleman. I couldn't understand what he was saying but I was sure he was not happy. Faster than I could see, he was upon me, his fangs in my neck, my blood pouring down his throat. I was almost dead when he stopped. He bit into his wrist and put it to my mouth. I had to swallow or not breath. It made no difference for I died moments later anyway.


The next thing I remember waking up covered in Earth! I thought he'd buried me alive, which was not far from the truth. I dug my way out and there he was standing, waiting for me. He started to speak and strangely, I could understand him now!


“So you wanted gold did you? Now you are vampire go into the night and feed yourself on the blood of others, take what is theirs. You'll find it easier to rob the living than robbing the dead. And don't forget, you sleep in the day. Get yourself to the grave before the sun rises.”


“With that, he spread his wings and flew away. Somehow I managed to live and two years later, I met Katya, a young vampire from Catalonia.


It was love at first site. We were together through almost every night. We fed and made love ravenously! Then one night when we were apart she stayed out too late to make it home before sunrise. She went into a church and climbed into an alter crypt. Unfortunately one of the priests saw her and...you know the rest. I never saw her again. She was truly dead. That my dear, is why I hate priests. When I came to California if I ever saw a priest mistreat a Mission Indian, he became my next meal. With these rapacious priests exposed now I may resume my favorite dining.”


Silently they left the tub and laid down on the bed. Cassandra held Joaquin in her arms as he softly wept.


“You've been mourning ever since?”


He nodded, “I've had sex with others of course, even other vampires but I've never found one to replace Katya in my heart.”


“But enough about me; tell me what is new about you and Sabine? Are you two finished? Where is she while your troubles distract you?”


Cassandra shed a tear, She is in France. She goes there for at tleast six months every year; sometimes she stays longer. She’s been gone more than a year now. I had thought of joining her for a visit before all these problems arose. Sabine has never really liked living in the United States. She has lived in Europe for the better part of 500 years and she loves living in France. She can host elegant events for her neighbors and be part of the festivals that happen throughout the year. Sabine spends time in Paris as well. She haunts the fashion shows every year. She only returns to California because I am here.


“The right time for her to return would be now, Cassandra. Together you could slay a dozen Samuels.”


“You are right of course. I think part of my stubbornness is I want to prove that I am capable of make it on my own without her help. After this I'll be finished with it.”


“If you're still alive,”


“Please Joaquin, lets not ruin this night with an argument.”


“I'm sorry. I meant no offense. I just care for you.”


They snuggled in each others arms until 4:00 was approaching. They climbed into the back seat of a Mercedes and told the driver to make it fast.  The sporty took off at high speed and was soon on the tarmac of the private section of the airport. Cass prepared to board the Gulfstream, They shared a tender kiss and said goodbye.
Flight time from San Diego to San Francisco was about 1 hour. There was little air traffic and the gulf stream landed quickly.  Cassandra was surprised to see a two coffins in the back of the plane.  Just then a sleepy Joaquin sat up and said “Good morning.”


“What are you doing here?” cried an angry Cass.


“I didn’t want you to die alone, Carida.”

The hearse arrived and the coffins loaded into the vehicle with Cass and Joaquin inside. It sped off to Cassandra’s home where her servant awaited their arrival.     

Friday, March 28, 2014

I Want You

I have been so damn lazy. Here it is the end of March and I'm just getting around to putting some things up. This is a song by one of my top three bands, Dutch symphonic metal group, Delain; A tale of obsessive love and cars. 







Thursday, October 31, 2013

This is one ofthe oldest vampire stories written.  It is in the form of a poem by none other than German writer and poet Wolfgang von Goethe, a man regarded as the German Shakespeare.  It is a conflict beween Greek Pagan ism and upstart Christianity.  The bride is of a Christian family, the groom's Greek Pagan

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe




Desktop Nexus:


The Bride of Corinth


(1) Once a stranger youth to Corinth came,
Who in Athens lived, but hoped that he
From a certain townsman there might claim,
As his father's friend, kind courtesy.


(2) Son and daughter, they
Had been wont to say
Should thereafter bride and bridegroom be.
But can he that boon so highly prized,
Save tis dearly bought, now hope to get?
They are Christians and have been baptized,
He and all of his are heathens yet.


(3) For a newborn creed,
Like some loathsome weed,
Love and truth to root out oft will threat.
Father, daughter, all had gone to rest,
And the mother only watches late;
She receives with courtesy the guest,
And conducts him to the room of state.


(4) Wine and food are brought,
Ere by him besought;
Bidding him good night, she leaves him straight.
But he feels no relish now, in truth,
For the dainties so profusely spread;
Meat and drink forgets the wearied youth,
And, still dress'd, he lays him on the bed.


(5) Scarce are closed his eyes,
When a form in-hies
Through the open door with silent tread.
By his glimmering lamp discerns he now
How, in veil and garment white array'd,
With a black and gold band round her brow,
Glides into the room a bashful maid.


(6) But she, at his sight,
Lifts her hand so white,
And appears as though full sore afraid.
"Am I," cries she, "such a stranger here,
That the guest's approach they could not name?
Ah, they keep me in my cloister drear,
Well nigh feel I vanquish'd by my shame.

(7) On thy soft couch now
Slumber calmly thou!
I'll return as swiftly as I came."
"Stay, thou fairest maiden!" cries the boy,
Starting from his couch with eager haste:
"Here are Ceres', Bacchus' gifts of joy;
Amor bringest thou, with beauty grac'd!


(8) Thou art pale with fear!
Loved one let us here
Prove the raptures the Immortals taste."
"Draw not nigh, O Youth! afar remain!
Rapture now can never smile on me;
For the fatal step, alas! is ta'en,
Through my mother's sick-bed phantasy.

(9) Cured, she made this oath:
'Youth and nature both
Shall henceforth to Heav'n devoted be.'
"From the house, so silent now, are driven
All the gods who reign'd supreme of yore;
One Invisible now rules in heaven,
On the cross a Saviour they adore.


(10) Victims slay they here,
Neither lamb nor steer,
But the altars reek with human gore."
And he lists, and ev'ry word he weighs,
While his eager soul drinks in each sound:
"Can it be that now before my gaze
Stands my loved one on this silent ground?


(11) Pledge to me thy troth!
Through our father's oath:
With Heav'ns blessing will our love be crown'd."
"Kindly youth, I never can be thine!
'Tis my sister they intend for thee.
When I in the silent cloister pine,
Ah, within her arms remember me!


(12) Thee alone I love,
While love's pangs I prove;
Soon the earth will veil my misery."
"No! for by this glowing flame I swear,
Hymen hath himself propitious shown:
Let us to my fathers house repair,
And thoult find that joy is not yet flown,

(13) Sweetest, here then stay,
And without delay
Hold we now our wedding feast alone!"
Then exchange they tokens of their truth;
She gives him a golden chain to wear,
And a silver chalice would the youth
Give her in return of beauty rare.


(14) "That is not for me;
Yet I beg of thee,
One lock only give me of thy hair."
Now the ghostly hour of midnight knell'd,
And she seem'd right joyous at the sign;
To her pallid lips the cup she held,
But she drank of nought but blood-red wine.

(15) For to taste the bread
There before them spread,
Nought he spoke could make the maid incline.
To the youth the goblet then she brought,--
He too quaff'd with eager joy the bowl.
Love to crown the silent feast he sought,
Ah! full love-sick was the stripling's soul.


(16) From his prayer she shrinks,
Till at length he sinks
On the bed and weeps without control.
And she comes, and lays her near the boy:
"How I grieve to see thee sorrowing so!
If thou think'st to clasp my form with joy,
Thou must learn this secret sad to know;


(17) Yes! the maid, whom thou
Call'st thy loved one now,
Is as cold as ice, though white as snow."
Then he clasps her madly in his arm,
While love's youthful might pervades his frame:
"Thou might'st hope, when with me, to grow warm,
E'en if from the grave thy spirit came!


(18) Breath for breath, and kiss!
Overflow of bliss!
Dost not thou, like me, feel passion's flame?"
Love still closer rivets now their lips,
Tears they mingle with their rapture blest,
From his mouth the flame she wildly sips,
Each is with the other's thought possess'd.


(19) His hot ardour's flood
Warms her chilly blood,
But no heart is beating in her breast.
In her care to see that nought went wrong,
Now the mother happen'd to draw near;
At the door long hearkens she, full long,
Wond'ring at the sounds that greet her ear.


(20) Tones of joy and sadness,
And love's blissful madness,
As of bride and bridegroom they appear,
From the door she will not now remove
'Till she gains full certainty of this;
And with anger hears she vows of love,
Soft caressing words of mutual bliss.


(21) "Hush! the cock's loud strain!
But thoult come again,
When the night returns!"--then kiss on kiss.
Then her wrath the mother cannot hold,
But unfastens straight the lock with ease
"In this house are girls become so bold,
As to seek e'en strangers' lusts to please?"


(22) By her lamp's clear glow
Looks she in,--and oh!
Sight of horror!--'tis her child she sees.
Fain the youth would, in his first alarm,
With the veil that o'er her had been spread,
With the carpet, shield his love from harm;
But she casts them from her, void of dread,


(23) And with spirit's strength,
In its spectre length,
Lifts her figure slowly from the bed.
"Mother! mother!"--Thus her wan lips say:
"May not I one night of rapture share?
From the warm couch am I chased away?
Do I waken only to despair?


(24) It contents not thee
To have driven me
An untimely shroud of death to wear?
"But from out my coffin's prison-bounds
By a wond'rous fate I'm forced to rove,
While the blessings and the chaunting sounds
That your priests delight in, useless prove.


(25) Water, salt, are vain
Fervent youth to chain,
Ah, e'en Earth can never cool down love!
"When that infant vow of love was spoken,
Venus' radiant temple smiled on both.
Mother! thou that promise since hast broken,
Fetter'd by a strange, deceitful oath.


(26) Gods, though, hearken ne'er,
Should a mother swear
To deny her daughter's plighted troth.
From my grave to wander I am forc'd,
Still to seek The Good's long-sever'd link,
Still to love the bridegroom I have lost,
And the life-blood of his heart to drink;


(27) When his race is run,
I must hasten on,
And the young must 'neath my vengeance sink,
"Beauteous youth! no longer mayst thou live;
Here must shrivel up thy form so fair;
Did not I to thee a token give,
Taking in return this lock of hair?


(28) View it to thy sorrow!
Grey thoult be to-morrow,
Only to grow brown again when there.
"Mother, to this final prayer give ear!
Let a funeral pile be straightway dress'd;
Open then my cell so sad and drear,
That the flames may give the lovers rest!


(29) When ascends the fire
From the glowing pyre,
To the gods of old we'll hasten, blest."

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f1/An_Arch_Druid_in_His_Judicial_Habit.jpg/220px-An_Arch_Druid_in_His_Judicial_Habit.jpg" />Last night I was involved in a discussion group where the topic of conversation was Spirituality in Your Life. Among the participants was an MD, seated across from me. My turn to speak came up. I am a Pagan and believe in many of the practices of the pre-Christian European religions. Part of that recognises the power of shaman osize: 13px; line-height: 17px;">f old who among other things were healers. If you were ill you would go to see him or her to be healed. They would give you herbs, potions or magic powder to cure you.
Well, I said, "Doctors are the shaman of today. The incantations and ceremonies of the past are gone but the magic powders and elixirs are still here. Now we go see shaman/doctors to receive our cures." The doctor across from me was rolling his eyes and shaking his head. I added, "I went to see the doctor or shaman and he gave me a magic powder called Cymbalta. It helped to relieve the pain in my back and leg as well as lifting the severe depression I'd been suffering the last six months,. It was certainly magic to me." Speaking after the group I told him about my liver transplant and what tremendous respect I had for doctors and some of the wonderful things they had done for me. His reply, "After all that I can see why you call it magic."

Monday, July 15, 2013

The Shaman and the Doctor

Last night I was involved in a discussion group where the topic of conversation was Spirituality in Your Life. Among the participants was an MD, seated across from me.

My turn to speak came up. I am a Pagan and believe in many of the practices of the pre-Christian European religions. Part of that recognises the power of shaman of old who among other things were healers. If you were ill you would go to see him or her to be healed. They would give you herbs, potions or magic powder and perform some ritual of magic to heal you.Well, I said, "Doctors are the shaman of today. The incantations and ceremonies of the past are gone but the magic powders and elixirs are still here. Now we go see a shaman/doctor to receive our cures."

The doctor across from me was rolling his eyes and shaking his head. I added, "I went to see the doctor or shaman and he gave me a magic powder called Cymbalta. It helped to relieve the pain in my back and leg as well as lifting the severe depression I'd been suffering the last six months,. It was certainly magic to me.Speaking to the doctor after the group I told him about my liver transplant and what tremendous respect I had for doctors and some of the wonderful things they had done for me. His reply, "After all that I can see why you call it magic."

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Lord Hargrove's Ball

Sabine was aquainted with an English lord that spent most of his

Sabine was acquainted with an English lord that spent most of his time in Ireland. She had received an invitation to his annual Halloween Ball to be held at his country manor. She RSVP'd and requested to bring Cassandra as her guest. His Lordship approved of course. The more unescorted women the better and a friend of Sabine’s was bound to be lovely.

Sabine and Cassandra took a leisurely bath together, playfully kissing and touching each other.
“We must not get too worked up my dear, we want to be warm for the party, not over cooked!”
Cassandra splashed her and laughed. Then she moved in closer and kissed Sabine fully on the mouth. “We should dress then before I change my mind and want to stay home.” She  whispered..

The women rose from the tub and dried one another. They exited the boudoir into the bedroom where their gowns were laid out on the bed. The ladies maids came to dress them.

Sabine wore a high waisted white charmeuse gown with a pale blue ribbon ribbon under the bodice. A pale blue outer dress which along with the gown was down to the floor. A platinum and sapphire pendant hung around her neck and the stone pointed to her cleavage. The ensemble showed her lovely body in a most immodest way.

Cassandra chose a light gray high waisted charmeuse gown with a very slight A line and a petticoat to give it volume and a dark gray, tightly fitted, high collar Spencer jacket. She wore a headband of platinum and small rose cut diamonds. The long drop earrings were of the same materials.

Both wore slippers of colour to compliment their attire.

“So conservative, Cassandra dearest. Apparently one can take a woman from Rutledge Square, but some things remain the same.”

“Sabine, this jewelery alone must cost a fortune. How do you afford all of...this?” Cassandra made a sweeping motion with her arm.

“People give me... gifts”.

“They give you £600 headbands?”

“The powers you have can be used in many ways. So far we have hunted among the poor. Tonight we hunt for a different sort of prey. The aristocrat or nouveau riche gentlemen.”

“You mean you steal from them.”

“We darling. You are part of this, too. You have accepted all that I have offered. You are as guilty as I. Tonight you shall learn to contribute to our partnership. There are many ‘gifts’ available tonight. If you meet a man who strikes your fancy, don’t hesitate to take him to your bed. I shan't be jealous. What we have is different than simple sex.”

Cassandra’s shock faded quickly as she recalled the pleasure of having a man inside her.

“It will be a busy night. You want three things; food, gifts and a man, perhaps. Food can be combined with either of the other two. Remember, don’t kill him!”

A knock came on the door, “Your carriage has arrived, Mum.”

“Thank you Martha. Tell the driver we shall be down presently.”

They arrived at Lord Hargrove’s manor. The coachman helped them down and a footman escorted them to the ballroom, a brightly lit room with people milling about, engaged in conversation and sipping glasses of champagne. The butler announced them and they proceeded into the room. They floated through the crowd and Sabine introduced Cassandra to people she knew. Presently Lord Hargrove approached.

“Good evening ladies! I see you have met some of my guests. Let me introduce you to a few you don’t know.”

Sabine and Cassandra held hands as he led them to several groups of men without wives present, men of business from London mostly. There was one man he took special care to introduce. He was tall and looked to be about 30. His hair was wavy and black, his body well proportioned. Louis Philippe, the Duke of Orleans. He had a reputation as a rake as he had fathered at least two illegitimate children on his travels through Europe and the Americas.

Bonsoir Monsieur, Let me introduce you to two of the most charming young ladies in all Dublin, Madame Sabine Elizabeth Gilbert and her cousin, Miss. Cassandra Catherine Flynn. They curtsied and wished the Duke a good evening. Sabine squeezed Cassandra hand as he looked them over. When his eyes met Cassandra’s, she locked him into her power. Cassandra had noticed the floor was clearing in preparation for a reel.

“I would so love to dance!”

The Duke nodded his ascension to the idea. Looking his lordship in the eyes, Sabine looked to Lord Hargrove.

“Shall we make it a foursome then?”

The Duke took Cassandra’s hand and Lord Hardgrove Sabine’s. They lined up and the the music started. The gentlemen bowed and the ladies curtsied then the dancing began in earnest.

“Monsieur looks well after so many adventures.”

“All of that was long ago. I have been in London more than 5 years. I am in touch with my mother and my sister in Spain and my brothers are in London with me.. I am restored to a life befitting a person of my station but my family lost much in La Révolution.”

“It must have been dreadful for you.”

“Yes, Madame Guillotine was cruel to my family. I lost my father in the reign of terror. He was a supporter of the revolution but when the Jacobins came to power he was arrested and executed ten months after his cousin, Louis XVI. I was in the army in Austria at the time or I would have gone too.”
This man was interesting and Cassandra wanted to hear more of his story. He was certainly handsome. Perhaps this man could be more than a simple meal...he could feed some of her other needs as well. Cassandra loved Sabine. Sabine was her maker and she loved her deeply. Their sex was wonderful. But on occasion she missed the feeling of a man’s arms around her, the firmness of his body and the hardness of his sex pounding inside her, as it was with Henry. She would tell Sabine of her desire. Perhaps she would also like to find another lover for this night.

“Tell me more of your time as a hunted man.”

“The tale would take a long time to tell. Perhaps one day I will write a book.”
Cassandra gazed into his eyes “Then tell me the things that were most important. What path has led you to this party in Ireland.”

Transfixed for a moment, Philippe regained himself and began his tale.

“The revolution and The Terror were preceded by a long period of unrest. I was the oldest of my siblings and destined to succeed my father as Duc d’Orleans. I had entered the army at 19 and was an officer serving under Dumouriez near the Austrian border. Things in Paris were tense. Riots were breaking out. While I supported the revolution, my desire was to see a constitutional monarchy not the eradication of the Ancien Régime. My commander persuaded me we should cross into Austria and enlist the support of the Austrian army for a march on Paris. We were apprehended on the way and held briefly. We escaped and returned to our unit to rally the support of our troops and we almost succeeded but the artillery deserted us. I was branded a traitor and had no choice but to flee.

We escaped to Switzerland and connected with my sister Adelaide and the Countess of Genlis in Schaffhausen. We were discovered there and fled to Zur. Once again we were forced to flee, this time to Zurich. The authorities ordered me to leave Switzerland though they allowed my sister and the countess to stay. I crossed the Rhine with my servant Baudouin and found employment at a boy’s school in Reichenau. I taught history, geography and modern languages. We had a place to stay and we would no longer be hungry.

By this time I resigned myself to the idea I would never see my home or France again. I was in a deep state of melancholy when I met a young Bavarian woman, Marianne. She was a cook at the school and she brought some joy back to my life. Had it not been for her I may have hurled myself into Lake Constanze. We became lovers and when she became pregnant, it was my desire to marry her. It was Baudouin who convinced me of the folly of this thing. Monsieur Jost, the Headmaster, sent Marianne to Italy for our child to be born among her relatives. I understand the baby was adopted by one of her family.
She returned to the school though I had of course been dismissed."