Dark Moon Digest #12, July 2013… (appearances)

You can now find the revised version of my vampire story, Geraldine’s Addiction, in the new issue of Dark Moon Book’s Stoker-nominated horror magazine, Dark Moon Digest. No. 12, July 2013.  In a future entry I’ll have a short interview about where I got the inspiration for Geraldine’s Addiction.  Available on Amazon or where horror magazines are sold.

DARK MOON DIGEST #12

Dark Moon Digest

DARK MOON BOOKS HOMEPAGE:

www.darkmoonbooks.com

ORDER FROM AMAZON:

dark-moon-digest12

Featuring scary fiction by Lawrence Dagstine, Grant Matthew Frazier, Erin K. Coughlin, Arthur Carey, Kaitlyn Travis, Jason Cramblett, Samantha Combs, Aric Sundquist, Ruth Hopkins, Patrick Tumblety, Carie Juettner, and an exclusive piece by Stoker winning novelist, Joe McKinney.

Other New Entries: “Magazines”

Free Ebooks: “The Paraplegic” by Lawrence Dagstine – May/June 2013

Memorial Day weekend through June 30th 2013 is FREE vampire month.  As promised earlier this year on Facebook and Twitter, I am celebrating summer and vampires by making my novelette, THE PARAPLEGIC free to download.  Just go to Smashwords and enter coupon code: GW38Q

At checkout you will obtain it at NO CHARGE.  But ONLY for late May up until June 30th at midnight, 2013.  July 1st it goes back to 99 cents.  Simply click the picture or button at the bottom and be redirected.  Also, check out my other titles in the ebooks & Kindle section of my website or while you’re perusing Smashwords.

FREE EBOOKS

FREE VAMPIRE FICTION

MAY/JUNE 2013 ONLY

TheParaplegic-Amazon

ONLY ON SMASHWORDS

COUPON CODE: GW38Q

“Doc, I’m telling you.  I just woke up in a hole in broad daylight.  No memory!”

When Herbert was told he had amnesia, he knew things were bad.  When he couldn’t feel anything below the waist, he got scared.  When the doctor told him he’d be paralyzed for life, he got depressed and wanted to die.  After all, no one wants to be a paraplegic.  But what made him crippled so suddenly? Did somebody do this to him? And if so, why? Now in the hospital, undergoing intensive surgery, little does Herbert know that the force responsible isn’t done with him, not by a long shot! Something’s coming back.  There’s a little unfinished business to take care of, and it comes in the form of vampires.

Smashwords_Tall75

Amazon Kindle: “New eBooks by Lawrence Dagstine…”

Well, after a year in the making, the six-novellas project comes to a close.  Six brand new releases for Amazon Kindle, B&N Nook, Kobo, Sony eReader (via Smashwords), Apple iPad (Smashwords), Smashwords.com, and I’m sure over the next few weeks a couple of more.  I have a wide range of science fiction, fantasy, horror, alternate history, satire and suspense titles available (including the almost-40,000 word A CHILD WEEPS IN MOSCOW), some inspired by authors like George Orwell and Kurt Vonnegut to Stephen King and Ray Bradbury.  Quality fiction with characters and plots that boldly go where no other (at least I hope) author has ventured before.  I’d like to take this time to thank my cover artist Bob Veon, and fellow editor Edith Marlowe.  With that said, these titles below are only 99 cents to $2.99 each, worth the price, and a welcome addition to any eReader.  Just click on the buttons beneath the covers to access the ordering page for your favorite reading device.  Or go and visit my eBooks & Kindle page (up on top).  Most of all, happy reading!

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DOWNLOAD NOW

ONLY 99cts to $2.99

SELECT YOUR READER & CLICK ON BUTTONS

How Jones Goes by Lawrence Dagstine

Story Name: “How Jones Goes”

Price: SCIENCE FICTION (FREE on Smashwords)

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In the late 21st century, overpopulation is a problem.  There’s also the problem with mental health.  In one particularly unusual asylum, there is Dr. Born (psychiatric intern) and Dr. Bloch (sexologist).  And then there’s Jones.  You have not met anyone like Jones.  You see, it’s not every day that patients claim they are from Mars.  And it’s not every day they come and go as they please.  A science fiction story filled with loads of satire (and lots of oddities that will make you shake your head) by speculative fiction author, Lawrence Dagstine.

A Child Weeps in Moscow by Lawrence Dagstine

A Child Weeps in Moscow by Lawrence Dagstine

Story Name: “A Child Weeps in Moscow”

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Alien possession meets alternate history, in this communist tale set in 1923 Russia, about a boy named Abraham (Abe), whose parents suddenly disappear one day.  Like many of the adults throughout Russia, they are being taken away in the night by a special police force put together by Lenin’s “new” government, a government put together after the arrival of spacecrafts with biomechanoid origins and higher intelligence and influence.  Aliens the citizens simply call, The Invaders!

Klara Izolyev, Abe’s teacher, tells the boy that the only way he can learn the truth about the Invaders is to go to Moscow.  There he will learn what they really want on Earth, what role they play in the current socialist movement, and possibly find his missing parents and sister.  There he will fight starvation, arrest, combat homelessness, and meet an even more influential figure.  Arkady, the leader of a Moscow street gang, whose parents have also been taken away.  Together they will all journey to find the people they once loved, discovering just why the aliens are so interested in helping Lenin.

The Mysterious Lady of the Caribbean by Lawrence Dagstine

Story Name: “The Mysterious Lady of the Caribbean”

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Mercer Hollingsworth is not your typical pirate; he’s more a buccaneer of the freelance sort, with a bit of the old hero in him.  No job is too big for his merry crew, so long as it helps bring down the Great Armada and plenty of booty is involved.  But when he brings his own wench aboard, members of the crew start disappearing.  Who is this mysterious young woman? Why does she sing so much? Why is Mercer still alive? When they find themselves stranded on an island in the Caribbean, blood and death will go hand in hand, as the wench reveals her true form and purpose in this speculative pirate story.

“The Paraplegic” by Lawrence Dagstine

Story Name: “The Paraplegic”

Kindle               Nook_Button1_N75               Smashwords75               Kobo_Button75

“Doc, I’m telling you.  I just woke up in a hole in broad daylight.  No memory!”

When Herbert was told he had amnesia, he knew things were bad.  When he couldn’t feel anything below the waist, he got scared.  When the doctor told him he’d be paralyzed for life, he got depressed and wanted to die.  After all, no one wants to be a paraplegic.  But what made him crippled so suddenly? Did somebody do this to him? And if so, why? Now in the hospital, undergoing intensive surgery, little does Herbert know that the force responsible isn’t done with him, not by a long shot! Something’s coming back.  There’s a little unfinished business to take care of, and it comes in the form of vampires.

“Family Reunion” by Lawrence Dagstine

Story Name: “Family Reunion”

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When Kendra was a teenager, she got raped and knocked up more than once.  When she finally found the courage to run away with the children, she went back to school, got a job, and set up a nice life for herself far away.  The children are now eight, and Howard has come ‘home’ for what he feels belongs to him.  He swears he’s a changed man, he wants to get married and be a dad.  Even if it kills! He wants this reunion to be one that Kendra and the kids will never forget… should they live to tell about it.

"The King of Trumpeters" by Lawrence Dagstine

“The King of Trumpeters” by Lawrence Dagstine

Story Name: “The King of Trumpeters”

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Salamand (Sal) was a slippery donkey, and a troublesome one.  Escaping one bad owner, only to find himself in the hands of another.  But after being sold to a nice couple, he swore he’d finally escape and start the perfect coup.  The one that would help all donkeys take over Jerusalem and the human race.  The plan might work, as humans are stupid creatures; might even give Salamand the edge he needs.  After all, what could possibly go wrong in a parody?

"Overcast" by Lawrence Dagstine

“Overcast” by Lawrence Dagstine

Story Name: “Overcast”

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It’s not every day that a 1920’s flying ace risks his life to bring a plane down safely for a little girl.  But when a horribly disfigured Sal and Lillian land in the remote, snowy mountains of Montana, a friendship will occur, a bond like no other.  As the winds blow and the snow accumulates, the pilot will do everything in his power to get this child down harsh ravines and rocky slopes.  Through darkness and despair they will do whatever it takes to stay alive.  A bittersweet story of survival, with an emphasis on the importance of not giving up and working together, no matter what age group you are.

Moscow Novella

Or purchase the NEW 150-page print version of Child Weeps in Moscow for $5.95.

BuyNow

Other New Entries: “New Releases, eBooks & Kindle”

If you can’t find a Dagstine story on a particular reader or android device, just get to me at Facebook or Twitter.  Every few weeks I will be ironing out formatting issues, adding on stuff, and working out other kinks.  Family Reunion and King of Trumpeters will also be available in print sometime in March or April.

Smashwords: “The Paraplegic” by Lawrence Dagstine – Now Available!

For only 99 cents, you can now own my vampire novelette, The Paraplegic.  Available at Smashwords.  Just click on the picture below, or, see what other low-cost titles I have available.  I even have a free science fiction story you could try out, and in the coming months I will be downloading more stories at no cost (usually under 5,000 words); I’ll also be coming to Kindle, Nook, Apple, Sony, Kobo and Nexus.  Novelettes and novellas will always be at the right price.  Quality, plot-driven stories, characters we care about: because that’s what matters first and foremost.  Science fiction, fantasy, horror and more in Mobi, ePub, PDF, and a variety of other formats.  You’ll be able to order them direct from here (eBooks & Kindle), or be redirected.  Also be sure to follow me on social media platforms such as Facebook & Twitter.  There will be cool contests in the coming months and free reading material will go out to my 5,000th Facebook follower and my 500th Twitter follower.  Cover art by Bob Veon.

THE PARAPLEGIC

Now Available at Smashwords – ONLY 99 cents!

TheParaplegic

When Herbert was told he had amnesia, he knew things were bad.  When he couldn’t feel anything below the waist, he got scared.  When the doctor told him he’d be paralyzed for life, he got depressed and wanted to die.  After all, no one wants to be a paraplegic.  But what made him crippled so suddenly? Did somebody do this to him? And if so, why? Now in the hospital, undergoing intensive surgery, little does Herbert know that the force responsible isn’t done with him, not by a long shot! Something’s coming back.  There’s a little unfinished business to take care of, and it comes in the form of vampires.

Get your favorite Dagstine stories in under a minute. Click below: Smashwords_Tall75

Artist Spotlight: “Interview with Cover Artist-Illustrator Bob Veon…”

If you draw or write in the genre communities, if you are affiliated with comic books and illustration in any shape or form, if you know who Alex McVey, Vincent Chong, and Daniela Siera is, then you probably know who Bob Veon is.  If not, you are missing out on the next big thing in horror and scifi illustration, Ebook and print cover art, as well as mind-blowing graphic design.  Like McVey, Chong and Siera, Bob Veon is currently breaking into the big time.  2012 seems to be his year, and things are only looking up for 2013.  Here is a small press artist that turns your visions into beautiful—or scary, if that’s how you like it—prints.  A man who can turn a canvas or book cover into the next museum masterpiece, or who can bring ideas to the table that probably no other artist of his caliber can.  This freelance master of pencils, ink, paint and Photoshop is also available for hire.  Let it be said that there is nothing this man can’t do.  He is the next award-winning genre artist.  It is not only an honor and a privilege to obtain his services for my own fiction work, but to interview him this very day.  See what inspires him and makes him tick.  You will also see some of his favorite art samples and be able to contact him at the end of the interview should you desire his services.  And now, on with the Q and A…

Robert Veon (a.k.a. Bob) hard at work

Lawrence: Bob, I’m glad you could be here today.  Let’s start from the beginning.  Where did you grow up and go to school?

Bob:  Thanks for having me here!  I grew up in East Palestine, Ohio, and went to high school there.  After, I went to Pittsburgh Technical Institute in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where I studied Multimedia and Graphic Design.

Lawrence: What was your childhood like?

Bob:  Probably pretty much the same as any other kid growing up in the 80’s/90’s.  I was always interested in horror movies and books from a very early age and anything else creepy and strange.  I liked to play video games and draw, read comic books.  Pretty typical stuff.

Bob Veon  — pencil, ink, canvas, computer art, etc.

Lawrence: How did you first get into drawing?

Bob:  I liked to draw pretty early on in life.  Ever since I was able to pick up a crayon, I think I’ve been drawing since!  I always liked to come up with strange creatures and places that were different from what you saw in life.  When I was a kid I was always fascinated with drawing skulls and skeletons (no shocker that I still have that fascination).  I remember a tornado going over the apartments we lived in during the mid-80’s and afterward I went into my “tornado drawing phase.” Drawing has always been my place to go to think and look at things.

I always doodled in my notebooks at school and at work.  Probably about 2005 or so I decided to start doing more elaborate work with it.  Trying to make something distinct, original.  I came to this decision that I’d make some stuff that I would like to hang on the walls around me, art that would reflect myself and things I found interesting.  Then a friend of mine suggested that I try doing illustrations for short stories, so I checked around online and Whispers of Wickedness gave me a try.

Lawrence: I used to be a reviewer and contributor for Whispers of Wickedness.  So tell me, what inspires you? For example, certain music and video games set the mood for me.  But they also inspire me, too.

Bob:  I’ve always been drawn to dark and strange themes.  When I draw I tend to put on a lot of music that reflects that, and the two of them, music and drawing, seem to go together great!  I tend to listen to things like Blue Oyster Cult, Black Sabbath, Marilyn Manson.  A lot of Industrial music too, things like Wumpscut, Combichrist, and Dismantled.  That sort of thing.  It really adds an energy to what you’re doing!

Bob Veon’s Comic Book work 1

Bob Veon’s Comic Book work 2

Lawrence: Let’s talk influences.  Everybody has them.  What writers, artists, or filmmakers influenced you and your work?

Bob:  Huge fan of Stephen King’s work – The Dark Tower series is still something I read over and over.  Clive Barker has been a major influence in my life since I first saw Hellraiser and then went on to read his books and get acquainted with his artwork.  He’s great in any medium he works in, as far as I’m concerned.  Besides fiction, I read a lot on paranormal subjects.  The things like alien abduction, UFOs in general; mysterious occurrences, cryptozoology, and conspiracy theories. Books by folks like John Keel and Jim Marrs. There’s a lot of strange things that happen in the world that kind of get brushed aside.  I don’t know what’s more fascinating a lot of times, the stories you hear themselves, or the reactions in the “official world” to them.  As far as art goes, I’ve always been amazed by HR Giger’s work – definitely an original vision there!  Frank Miller’s black and white comic style is definitely something I was impressed by.  Jae Lee is fantastic in that whole positive/negative style too.  I love his attention to minute details.

Bob Veon’s work space

Bob Veon & Lawrence Dagstine project

Lawrence: I love your penciling and inking style the most.  I love how you draw everything by hand first.  But at the same time you’re the kind of guy who can do pencils and inks one day, then jump from canvas to crayon to computer art the next.  What is your favorite medium to work in? Also, what mediums are you experienced in?

Bob:  I’m going to have to say that the medium that seems to be “me” the most is pen and ink drawings.  It’s a pretty fun and worthwhile effort all around to see what you can come up with.  When I first started to get serious with pen and ink drawings I would sit down to a piece of paper with just a pen, no pencils or other starting points, and just start going.  Make a mistake?  Just fold it into what I was doing somehow!  It could get challenging, but at the same time was pretty exciting.  Especially when I pulled off something that looked good!

I also like to paint a lot, but haven’t done much of that in the past year.  It’s always interesting to me how drawing and painting, while essentially very similar in that you are trying to create form, space, and value, defining something two-dimensional to look a certain way, are so very different to do in technique.

As for other mediums, I do stuff with Photoshop, but mainly just for coloring or adding effects.  I don’t do much with it aside from that.  I do a lot with Illustrator which is a really interesting graphic design program with a lot of potential.  When I was in school I worked in some 3D programs but never really got into them like I thought I would.

Mysterious Lady of the Caribbean 1 – Bob Veon

Mysterious Lady of the Caribbean 2

Mysterious Lady of the Caribbean 3

Lawrence: Originality.  It’s definitely something you have.  What is your take on it?

Bob:  Like I said before, I was striving to try to go into places that I hadn’t seen before when I started getting serious with my artwork.  I try to be as original as possible when I’m coming up with things to work on, but I’m sure that you see a lot of the things that influence me in there as well.  I guess that you’ll always have that, though.

Lawrence: Your black and white illustrations would look great on somebody’s back or forearm.  I’m sure they would also make your typical tattoo artist salivate.  Have you ever thought about working alongside a tattoo artist?

Bob:  I have indeed!  Actually, I’ve done tattoo designs for a few people.  My girlfriend actually got one that she asked me to design for her.  I did check out a tattoo shop a few years ago that was looking for apprentices and took in several of my sketchbooks for the owner to look through.  He seemed to be really impressed with what I was doing and said it was very original, which I took as a great compliment!  Unfortunately, due mainly to time and economic reasons, I wasn’t able to go forward with this.

Family Reunion Novella – pencils

Family Reunion Novella – colors

Lawrence: A lot of artists create their own graphic novels or books of their work these days.  They even do it on places like Lulu or CreateSpace.  Have you ever thought about coming out with an art book?

Bob:  I finished up a graphic novel script just last year that I’d love to get moving on.  I started penciling about three pages then got busy with other projects, but would love to get back to it.  I know that it’s going to be a long project, and I think that kind of keeps me reserved on it.

I do have a book of artwork available through Lulu from 2007 called Landscapes of Hell.  It’s still available if anyone’s interested.

(to order Landscapes of Hell: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/bobveon)

The Paraplegic – pencils

The Paraplegic – colors

Lawrence: Who are some clients, authors or publications you have done artwork for?

Bob:  I started off doing black and white illustrations for Whispers of Wickedness.  They always had some really good stories!  From there I started working with Jason Gaskell on his online magazine Oriental Tales, doing illustrations for the stories people sent in.  Other than that, I was asked to send some original work in for Taj Mahal Review and Harvests of New Millennium.  For a while I hadn’t been doing much illustration and then just this last summer Jason Gaskell got in touch with me about doing illustrations for more of his short fiction for a collection he wanted to put out.

Grim Reaper print (part 1) by Bob Veon

Grim Reaper print (part 2) by Bob Veon

Lawrence: What do you think art is most lacking these days? And why?

Bob:  I try not to get too elitist about art.  It’s usually something you get or you don’t, but the fact that someone created something, took the time out of their life to put the energy in to make something for someone or just for themselves, that’s pretty important and deserves a look.  If I want to get picky about things though, I could say there is too much of a reliance on digital technology to make something look good.  But that would be a stupid thing to say since I do it myself!

Gargoyle-Dragon Creature

In Thrall to the Succubus

Lawrence: Although it’s taken both of us almost a year, what do you think of the “Six Novellas” eBook project? Have you ever done something like this before?

Bob:  It’s been a lot of fun and exciting!  I never know what to expect in the next story I get from you, and that adds to the fun of what I do for them.  Hell, I’d never drawn a pirate ship before and then found myself doing it for Mysterious Lady of the Caribbean!  I’ve never done anything like this before, but would love to do more of it.  It certainly keeps the creative process moving!

Lawrence: If there was an artist or writer you could work beside, living or dead, who would it be? And why?

Bob:  I think it would be pretty fun to work with someone like David Lynch.  He certainly brings a very unique touch to whatever he’s working on.   Really just about anyone I mentioned before as influences would be great fun to work with.  It would be neat to see firsthand how they go about their work.

Death Clock

Dream Within a Dream

Lawrence: Funny how when we first teamed up we learned that we owned the same exact video games, the same exact toys and stickers (Star Wars, Mega Man, Final Fantasy, etc.), and other collectibles as if we had identical childhoods.  Fun Stuff… What do you do for fun? Where do you turn when it’s time to take a break?

Bob:  I know what you mean!  It was pretty wild to find out we pretty much owned the same toys and video games!  Usually for fun I like to play video games.  I’ve been a huge fan of them since the old Nintendo system and haven’t stopped playing since!  Things like Final Fantasy, Metal Gear, Grand Theft Auto, Castlevania – I enjoy them all.  I also like to watch movies and read.  Seems like most of the things I liked to do when I was a kid have pretty much stayed the same!

Nurse by Bob Veon

Secrets of Darkness

Soul-Eating Demon

Lawrence: In twenty years time, where would you like to see yourself?

Bob:  I would love to be able to work on my artwork full time.

Lawrence: If you could be somebody famous in history, who would it be? And why?

Bob:  I don’t know if he’s considered someone famous, but the Count St. Germain.  I just want to know if he was this immortal that he claimed to be or a fake.  Regardless, I’m sure it would be an interesting time!

Scarecrow Piece by Bob Veon

Tarot Reader piece by Bob Veon

The Return by Bob Veon

Lawrence: Favorite comic book superhero and super villain? And why?

Bob:  Oh boy, this is one that’s hard for a comic geek!  If I had to boil it down, I’m going to go with Wolverine for superhero.  Why?  With his powers and unbreakable skeleton he pretty much has no choice but to be this tough little ball of fury taking it to the villains every time they come up!  As for super villain – Herr Starr from the Preacher comics.  He takes villainy to a ridiculously fun level to read!

Lawrence: You know it’s bad for you.  Favorite junk food?

Bob:  I could eat pizza every day if I could, though I don’t consider it a junk food because it contains the four food groups.  See how I justified that?

The Tormentor by Bob Veon

We Can Make You Better

Wicked Forest

Lawrence: Have any advice for aspiring artists who might be reading this?

Bob:  If you want to make artwork just do it. And keep on doing it.  Don’t try to compare what you’re doing with what someone else has done because that’s a very quick way to get discouraged.  Good and bad are arbitrary things in art, and you are your own judge.  The important thing is that you are expressing yourself creatively and hopefully gaining confidence as to just what you’re capable of doing with your abilities.  It takes time and effort, but you will find your own unique style.

Canvas Work 1

Canvas Work 2

Canvas Work 3

Lawrence: Bob, I want to thank you for being here today and wish you the best of luck.  Do you have any last words?

Bob:  Just that I hope everyone likes what we’ve got on the Six Novellas project for next year! It’s been a pretty fun thing to be working on, so I’m hoping everyone gets that sense of fun when they get to read the stories.  Thanks again, Lawrence!

Commissioned cover for Surprising Stories

Need a book cover done? Or maybe a canvas or a graphic novel? Hire Bob Veon now.  Click any of the links below:

Main website:

http://bobveon.webs.com/index.htm

Also check out:

http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/bob-veon.html

http://www.artistrising.com/shop/tags/bob-veon.htm

http://bobveon.deviantart.com/

Or contact Bob Veon directly at:

bobveon@yahoo.com

Artwork Copyright by Bob Veon.  All Rights Reserved. 

Tales of the Talisman: Volume 6, Issue 2… (Now Available!)

Now Available for Purchase:

featuring Lawrence Dagstine

Tales of the Talisman: Volume 6, Issue 2…

www.talesofthetalisman.com

With stories and poetry by: Martin Turton, Thom Gabaldon, Aurelio Rico Lopez III, Lawrence Dagstine, John Grey, roibeard Ui-neill, Patrick Thomas, TJ McIntyre, Daniel C. Smith, Deborah P. Kolodji, W. Gregory Stewart, Jean Davis, Richard Harland, and MORE!

Previous Issues with Lawrence R. Dagstine:

Fiction Excerpt: “Vampires in America” – Part 8

Welcome back to the Official Homepage of writer/artist Lawrence R. Dagstine.  Stay tuned here in the future for lots of wonderful free fiction, essays and excerpts, and most of all, digital releases you can download at cheap prices.  Get your Kindles, Nooks, and other eReaders ready.  Below is an installment from Part 8 of a work in progress, entitled: “Vampires in America.”  Historically rich, definitely weird, and what will be an unforgettable adventure in its entirety.

VAMPIRES IN AMERICA

Part 8.  Fiction Excerpt.

 

Bruce turned it into a hard day, bullying and ragging the other vampires.  He made Tom his special target.  Tom took the abuse without any attempt at fighting back.

In Fort Wayne a new locomotive came on, and so did a new crew.  The conductor was a nervous man, small and dumpy, constantly checking his watch.  The engineer, a homely, lanky young man, stood outside the train trading jokes with the fireman.

There were also several new passengers: a bearded preacher, a printer from Peoria, and a fearsome-looking riverboat man named Joe Tide, a burly fellow in a red shirt and yarn suspenders.

Tower wandered out from the lunchroom and came back to the boxcar, where J.C. was sitting in the open door.  He offered her half his sandwich.  She refused him without a word, jumping down and running off to join Samantha at the outdoor pump.

“So when are you going to tell them?” Samantha asked.

“Tell them what?” J.C. said.

“That you’re a female.”

“When I feel like it.  If I feel like it.”

“I’m sure most of them know.  The way they stare at you.”

“Let them think what they want,” J.C. said.

Finally the engineer and the fireman climbed up into the locomotive and the train started.  Some time after ten in the evening the train began to slow down.  The vampires awoke and opened the door to peer out into the dark countryside. “What is it, Miss Simpson?”

“There ain’t no town here, Miss Simpson.  Look.”

The train came to a full stop.  When J.C. and Langley leaned way out the door, they could see lanterns bobbing far down the track.  A man on horseback and a horse-drawn wagon came into view.  Two bearded men got down from the wagon, and the engineer went out to meet them.  The vampires whispered amongst themselves: Were they outlaws? Was it a robbery? Even worse, were they vampire hunters?

The two men walked back to their wagon and returned carrying a pine box about four feet long.  The baggage car door was opened and the box put aboard.  Then the horseman and the wagon rode off.

As the engineer climbed back up into the cab, J.C. suddenly jumped out of the boxcar and dashed toward the baggage car.

“J.C.!” Emily shouted after her. “Get back in here!”

“I want to sleep by myself once.  I’m not hurting anybody, Miss Simpson.” Grabbing the corner of the door, J.C. scrambled up into the car.

The train shuddered, slipped forward, shuddered again.  Emily took a deep breath and leaned against the slats of the boxcar.  She would talk to the vampire again in the morning.

*   *   *

J.C. was alone in the dark baggage car.  It was a little frightening, even for a vampire.  She groped her way through the car and found an old blanket that she folded up to use as a pillow.  She slid several trunks around until she made herself a nest.

As she slipped closer to sleep, her mind began to move back to the afternoon with the actors, their gestures, their bright costumes, their bits of song.  She had been crazy to get up and sing with Drew.  She didn’t want to have anything to do with actors or dancers, with their fake tears and their motioning protests of love.  She was moving west, where there were no theaters or dance halls, no orchestras or ballets, away from her mother’s crying, away from the arguing voices.  The high-hatted men standing in the half-closed door, not letting her mother close that door, not letting J.C. sleep.  J.C. was going away, into some wilderness, where there was stillness.

She woke with a start.  There was a sound in the baggage car, the sound of something moving.  J.C. lay very still.  It wasn’t a rat; no, it was something heavier.

She heard it again.  This time J.C. moved quickly and silently among the trunks.  She knelt beside the pine box that the bearded man brought aboard.  She put her ear to the box.  She heard breathing.

J.C. sat silent for a moment.  There was something alive inside.  Perhaps another vampire? An animal? It made her angry.  It was terrible to nail up an animal like that; there weren’t even any air holes.

She knocked softly on the box.  The sound of breathing stopped.  J.C. knocked again; there was only stillness, the click of the rails beneath her.

J.C. felt along the dirty floor of the car, patting the bags and trunks till her fingertips found the handle of a hoe.  Using the sharp edge as a wedge, J.C. pried under one of the boards.  Finally she pulled the board free and stared into the eyes of a man curled tight inside the box.

“Who are you?” he hissed at her.

J.C. moved back, grabbing the hoe and displaying her fangs. “Who are you?”

The man began to work his way out of the box, squirming painfully.  He was black. “Yo’ one creepy little man.  What side you workin’ fo’?”

J.C. held up the hoe in a swinging position. “I’m not working for any side.”

The man stretched, grimacing as he felt the lower part of his back.  He was almost six feet tall, in overalls, no shoes.  He scrutinized J.C. “You’re just a young vamp, ain’t ya?”

“Anything wrong with that?”

“No.  Just that you should look what you’re doing with that hoe.  You’re likely to bang somebody back of the head.” J.C. lowered the hoe a bit. “What’s your name, vamp?”

“J.C.  What’s yours?”

“My name’s Nester.”

“Where you coming from, Nester?”

“Now, why would you want to know that?”

“No reason,” J.C. said. “Where you going, then?”

Nester sat down on one of the trunks. “Same direction as you, I guess.  I’m going north, to Canada.”

“Nope,” J.C. said, putting down the hoe. “You’re going west.  To Danville.”

Nester frowned. “West? Well, there’s a reason, I know there is.  They’ll put me on another train.  I been on so many trains, you wouldn’t believe it.” He went to the door and peered out into the night. “They wouldn’t be trickin’ me.  Ain’t no way to be runnin’ an underground railroad, though, you gotta say it.”

“So you’re not a vampire yourself?” J.C. asked.

“Heck no.  I’m human as human gets.  Why?”

“Vampires sometimes sleep in coffins.  It’s something I heard once.  Don’t know if it’s true or not.”

Nester looked back at J.C. “I heard the same thing.  But what are you doin’ in here?”

“I got tired of the others,” J.C. said.

“What others is that? Oh, wait—”

“We’re all orphans.  Really nasty vampires made us like this.  You know, turned us.  So they’re giving the young a second chance.  They’re placing us out on farms with human families.  They think it’ll make us better citizens.  But they’re all no-good vampires, and I couldn’t stand ’em anymore.”

“I can see that,” Nester said.  He arched his back, feeling with his hand. “Oww, I got a crick back here.  Anybody in charge of you orphans?”

“There’s a lady in charge of us.”

“Is she human?”

“Unfortunately.” J.C. rolled her eyes.

Nester laughed. “Don’t sound like you like that lady.”

“She’s a little churchy, but she’s all right.  Just that I don’t know that I should trust her.  She says she’s gonna find us homes.  And she doesn’t know, really.”

“If she says she will, she will,” Nester said firmly.

“Oh, come on, you don’t know any more than she does!”

“You believe in her, that’s all I’m sayin’.  That’s the only chance you’ve got, young man.”

The car swayed.  Nester stumbled and then regained his balance. “If we can’t believe in people, we all stuck.  You take me now, J.C.  I made the break to freedom.  But to make it all the way, I need other folks, all kinds, black ones and white ones.  Green ones if I got to.  Folks I never laid eyes on in my life.”

“Hmm,” J.C. said skeptically.

“Only thing I can do is trust, young man, and not be prejudice back.  I been hidin’ in barns, bumpin’ along in wagons with all kinds of octoroons, mulattoes, not knowin’ which way we was headed.  If I can get in a box and have ’em nail me up like I was dead, well, that’s puttin’ yourself in people’s hands.” J.C. looked sour. “You ain’t gonna give up, are you?”

“Did I say I was giving up?”

“You’re gonna find a home, same as me.”

“Mmm,” J.C. said.

Nester draped himself across a pair of trunks. “It’s nice to jus’ stretch out for a little while.”

They both fell silent, the only sound the clicking of the wheels.  An hour could have passed, or even two.  J.C. was almost asleep when she realized that the time between clicks was growing.  The train was slowing down.  She sat upright and looked around wildly.  It was still night.  Nester sat, alert.

“What is it, Nester?”

“I dunno, but I figure I better be cozyin’ down in my box again.  I’m trustin’ you, son, to hammer me back in real good.”

“Sure,” J.C. said, her voice a little frightened.

Nester folded himself back into the box, tucked his head in just as the brakes screamed.  J.C. picked up the loose board with trembling hands.

Nester grinned at her. “It’s okay, son.  You come up to Canada sometime and I’ll take you for a ride on a moose.”

J.C. fitted the board in place.  With the back of the hoe she quickly hammered down the nails.  The train had stopped.  She went to the door and looked out.  There was a group of men on horseback, lanterns at their sides.  One of the men rode down the track, the horse picking its way gingerly.  In the lantern light J.C. saw a badge on the horseman’s chest.

She jumped down, shut the baggage car door behind her, and walked slowly toward the vampire car.  She was greeted with jeers. “Too dark for ya, J.C.?” and “Kinda skeery?” She plopped down on her blanket and said nothing.

The sheriff climbed into the passenger car.  Another of his men poked his head into the vampire car.  He was lean and young, with a big smile. “They tol’ me there was a load of vampire orphans back here and damn if it isn’t true. ‘Scuse my language, miss.”

Emily had pulled her duster around her in her most haughty manner. “May I ask why you’re disturbing us?”

“Oh, we’re just looking through the train, miss.  The sheriff’s received a complaint.  Sorry for waking you up like this.”

The sheriff jumped down from the passenger car, and he and an older deputy walked to the baggage car.  J.C. watched them, holding herself back.  The sheriff stood aside and let his man pull open the baggage car door.  The young deputy noticed J.C. staring back toward the baggage car, and he looked back, too.  There was the sound of breaking wood and then a shout.

J.C. leaped out of the boxcar and ran.  The young deputy stepped in front of the door, his hands held out in warning, but the vampires slipped by him on every side.  Finally he gave up and went loping to the baggage car.

The train’s passengers—human and vampire—gathered in a semi-circle in front of the baggage car.  In the doorway, held by a deputy, was a gaunt black man with a stubble of white beard.  The younger deputy held a crowbar.  Pieces of the shattered pine box lay on the floor behind them.  The sheriff bent down to hand the lanterns to one of the passengers, then jumped to the ground. “Well, that’s it for tonight,” he said. “You can all go back to bed.”

“You can’t take him!” J.C. said.

“What’s that, young feller?”

“Young man’s right,” said Joe Tide, the burly riverboat man, pulling his yarn suspenders. “It’s a free state.”

“That’s right, it’s a free state,” J.C. said. “Isn’t it, Miss Simpson?”

Emily could only stare at the face of the sheriff.

The sheriff answered. “There’s a law, I’m afraid, young man.  It’s called the Fugitive Slave Act.  Any runaway slave that’s caught, free state or not, goes back to his owner.”

The two deputies were trying to get themselves and Nester down from the baggage car without letting go of his arms, and it was about as awkward as a potato-sack race.  They finally all tumbled out, one of the deputies landing on his knees.  J.C. went up to Nester, put her hands on his arms above the deputies’ hands.

The first gray streaks of dawn had appeared on the eastern horizon.  A couple of heads still peered from the windows of the train, but most of the passengers who’d come out to take a look began to drift back toward the passenger car.  Frank Tower and Joe Tide and a few others held their ground.

“Let the man go, Sheriff, what’s it to you?” Tower said.

“The slave people payin’ you off, Sheriff?” It was the fireman.  The engineer tugged on the fireman’s arm, but that wasn’t about to stop the young man. “What’d they give you?”

The sheriff’s face reddened. “You listen to me, you railroad people.  There are laws here, and they apply to everybody.  You, too, Sam,” he said to the engineer. “We’ve been keepin’ our eyes on you.  You run your train through my town, you’re goin’ to abide by those laws.  This here slave is goin’ back.”

J.C. pressed against Nester, staring at the crowd.  No one moved.  Didn’t any of them see? These were the same people who had cried at Uncle Tom’s Cabin, who had applauded when the slaves were freed.  How could they not understand?

J.C. spun and kicked one of the deputies in the shins. “Run, Nester, run,” she shouted.  She pivoted smartly and hit the second deputy in the belly with her fist.  The man bellowed, then let go with a sweeping uppercut, catching J.C. under the right eye.  Suddenly she was down on her back in the dirt.

Tower threw himself at the deputy, the force of his rush tumbling the two of them to the ground.  The sheriff tried to move to help, but Joe Tide stepped up and wrapped his massive arms around the sheriff’s middle, lifting him like a bag of flour, squeezing agonizing groans out of him.  The young deputy pulled his pistol, and, as he did so, the fireman crouched down to pick up the crowbar.  Nester stood stock-still, uncertain whether to run or join the fight.

The engineer grabbed Nester by the arm. “You’re coming with me.” He reached over and slapped his young fireman on the shoulder. “Billy, put that thing down and let’s get the steam up.  We’re movin’ this train out of here.”

The fireman let the crowbar drop, and the three of them raced toward the front of the train.

The young deputy was frantic.  He ducked and darted, gun in hand, afraid to shoot into the tumbling, twisting fighters, and finally, in frustration, fired a shot in the air.  Instead of stopping anyone from fighting, the shot seemed to galvanize the bearded preacher, who picked up the crowbar and started running at the deputy.  The young man dropped his gun and ran down the track with the preacher in hot pursuit.

Emily tried to herd the vampires back toward the boxcar, holding the crying J.C. by one arm.  Tower and the other deputy were on their feet now, their hands at each other’s throats. “You really don’t want to make me angry,” Tower said.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I could just tear your head off if I wanted to.”

The train whistle pierced the air.  The engineer leaned out, waved for people to get on board.  The other passengers and the vampires started running for the train.  Tower had his deputy down on the ground again, and Joe Tide, the sheriff grasping in his arms, staggered toward them.  With a great shout, the boatman dumped the sheriff on the deputy and then secured the pile by throwing himself on top of them.  He shouted to Tower, “Go on, get on the train, I got ’em!” Sprawled across the two lawmen, the boatman held them fast.

“Wish I’d thought of that,” Tower said.

The train made a jolt forward.  Down the tracks, the preacher dropped the crowbar and came running.  There was a sprint now for the slow-moving train, Tower in the lead, the preacher behind.  Heads at every window of the train urged the runners onward.  Joe Tide staggered up and started running, too.

Emily and the vampires pulled Tower and then the preacher up into the boxcar.  Joe Tide, slower on his thick boatman’s legs, seemed to be losing ground, with the sheriff and his deputies only paces behind.  The vampires leaned out of the car, exhorting the boatman forward.  Gasping, he summoned up one last burst, caught Tower’s hand, and struggled up.

The train picked up speed.  The young deputy kept gaining; he was running alongside.  When he tried to climb aboard, a kick from the preacher sent him sprawling.  The train, under full steam now, sounded its whistle in triumph.

*   *   *

Inside the boxcar bedlam reigned.  The vampires piled on Tower and Nester and Joe Tide and the preacher, shouting over one another for attention.  Only J.C. sat by herself on a bench, sobbing softly.  It was Emily who first noticed.

“J.C., are you all right? That man didn’t hit you hard, did he?”

J.C. looked up and tried to stifle her sobs, but couldn’t entirely.  Emily’s mirror lay across her legs.  J.C. picked it up and stared into it.  There was no reflection. “I don’t even know what a puffy eye looks like!” she said.

“You can’t be worrying about how it looks, J.C.,” Tower said. “You handled yourself like a real man out there.”

“But I’m not a man!” J.C. sobbed. “I’m a female! A female monster!”

“A what?” Tower said.  Bruce laughed.

“Oh, J.C.!” Emily said.  The vampires all stared at J.C., but she refused to look back at any of them, instead gazing in the mirror and wishing that a reflection of her could have gazed back.

“Now doesn’t that just beat everything, Pledges,” Langley said. “J.C.’s a bloody faker.” Emily quickly hushed them both, and the only sound then was the rocking of the car.

It was Nester who finally spoke, glaring at Langley and Bruce. “You think that’s funny? If she says she’s a female, she’s a female.  This here vampire got me out of the hands of that jailer, so you all leave off gawkin’ at my friend.”

“Come now,” Emily said. “Let’s settle down.  You all need some rest.” The vampires slowly went to their blankets, casting sidelong glances at J.C.

When the train came to a halt again, the prairie was ablaze with a fierce morning sun.  There was not a building in sight.  A number of exhausted passengers stumbled out into the sunlight.  The engineer and Tower and Nester walked a distance from the train.  They stood talking quietly.  The passengers lined up along the car, speculating on the conversation among the three.

Dr. Walcott said, “That engineer’s just loco.  His job is gone once the railroad hears about this, you can bet on that.”

“He’s a brave young man, if you ask me,” said one of the other passengers.

Nester turned and shook hands with Tower and the engineer, then raised his hand toward the train.  J.C. raised her hand in return.  Joe Tide and finally, reluctantly, Dr. Walcott did the same.

Then, as naturally as a man would slip into a pool of water, Nester bent down over the side of a ridge and vanished.

*   *   *

Ten miles east of Danville, a dozen armed horsemen and a couple of wagons were gathered around the water tank.  As the train eased to a stop, a strong-looking man with a mane of wavy white hair hitched up his belt and walked toward the locomotive.  He wore a sheriff’s badge.

The engineer and the fireman climbed down from their cab, eyeing the horsemen.  The sheriff took off his hat and scratched at his wavy white hair. “Hello, Sam,” he said. “We heard there was a little trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” the engineer said.

“What we got over the telegraph was that there was a slave on the train, and when the sheriff from the county over there tried to take him off, some of you boys got in his way.” The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, Sam, you had a slave on this train?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he’s not on the train now?”

“No, sir.”

“And do you know where he got off?”

“No, sir.”

“Mighty puzzling.” The sheriff turned slowly and faced the passengers crowded together on the steps of the train. “Any of you know where that slave might have got off?”

No one spoke.  Wind rustled the trees down by the stream.

“It’s a mystery, I tell yuh.” The sheriff rubbed his nose. “Sam, I’m afraid you’ll have to be comin’ with us.  If any of the others here were involved, well, that’s none of my business.  They didn’t put it on the telegraph, but I’m going to tell you something, Sam, you can just bless your stars that you got arrested in the right county.”

“What about us, Sheriff?” shouted one of the passengers.

“Folks, I hate to slow down your trip this way, but we’re arrestin’ your engineer.  Anybody that wants to ride into town with us and make other connections is welcome.  Otherwise, sit tight, and they’ll have another crew out here this afternoon.”

Emily decided it was best that she and the vampires would stay with the train.  The other passengers were leery about being stranded out in the country.  All of them except for Frank Tower, Joe Tide, and the preacher elected to take the wagons into Danville.

There was a great flurry of activity as baggage was lugged onto the two wagons.  Joe Tide was fuming, ready to fight this bunch of lawmen, too, but the engineer calmed him down.  They’d gotten a man free, that was the point, and, anyway, if there was going to be a trial, he had a better chance in Danville than a lot of places.

The vampires looked on in awe as the horses and wagons rumbled off.  The engineer waved back, grinning, then pointed across a field, where a quail was flying low, heading for safety.

*   *   *

When the horses and wagons disappeared from view, Bruce spat, then kicked at the ground.  Tower broke the silence. “I’ve never seen such a sad bunch of faces.  If you ask me, you should be proud of yourselves.  There’s a man free somewhere north of here, and maybe he wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you.  You should be proud of this train.”

“So? So what if we are?” Bruce said.

“So maybe you’d like to have your picture taken,” Tower said. “It’ll be my going-away present to all of you.”

The words stuck in Emily’s heart.  She stared at Tower.  He smiled back. “Emily, I want you in the picture, too.”

The vampires’ spirits rose instantly.  They lined up in front of the boxcar, squeezed in when Tower told them to squeeze in.  Eventually they were all as gravely still as anyone could ever want, holding until Tower told them that was it, and then they let out a whoop.

They crowded around the mercury bath, badgering him with questions.  When the plate was mercurated and washed, Tower let the vampires decide on a case.  After a fierce debate, they chose one that had a harp embossed on the outside and purple silk lining inside.  Tower handed the finished daguerreotype to Emily.

They all pressed around.  Didn’t J.C.’s shiner finally show up good now, Langley said.  And wasn’t Langley’s grin weird, like a skunk eating sand, Pledges said.  After they had tossed all the barbs they could think of, they went running off into the woods.

Emily stayed behind.  Tower was busy repacking his equipment.  Emily stood fingering the harp-embossed case.  As she watched him snapping down the legs of his tripod, she felt enormously drawn to him.  There was so little time, she thought, and she was letting it slip away.

Suddenly he turned back to her. “You know what I would like, Miss Simpson? I’d like to take a walk with you, before the new crew shows up.  Just you.  No vampires.  How does that sound?”

There was no mistaking her look.  Her face was shining. “It sounds wonderful, Mr. Tower.”

As Tower leaned his tripod against the passenger car, there was a shout. “Miss Simpson! Look what I brought you!” Samantha ran across the clearing, waving a nosegay she had made out of mullein, stock, and cornhusk twisted with grass.  Pledges was a minute behind her, walking carefully with his hands full.

“Look here, Miss Simpson!” Pledges held up a handful of acorns. “There are lots more.” Pledges suddenly eyed the two of them. “Where are you going?”

“Mr. Tower and I were going for a walk.”

“What for?” Pledges said.

“We thought we’d look for some of those acorns.”

Samantha wrinkled up her nose. “By yourselves?”

“But how can you find the acorns if we’re not along?” Pledges pleaded.

“I don’t think we could,” Tower said, smiling.  He took Samantha’s hand, then put his arm around Emily’s waist. “So I think you two should come with us.”

 End of Part 8.