Galaxy Girl

Andromeda was no one.

In the large, crazy scheme of life and everything else, she was a speck. A mote. A nano. Just another galaxy girl in a whole cosmos of galaxy girls.

Easily overlooked.

Easily ignored.

Far too easily passed over for the universe girls. But then those girls were pretty hard to ignore. They were everywhere. A galaxy girl like Andromeda couldn’t run in a straight line without tripping over fifteen hundred of a universe girl’s stars and moons.

Andromeda barely had any stars. She had a few knock off moons that may or may not have been rubbish left over from a passing universe girl. Andromeda wasn’t going to question their worth. All that mattered was that they stayed in her magnetic pull and orbited in her circles. She was happy with that.

But she longed for more.

She wanted a whole cadre of stars. She wanted planets. She wanted planetoids and black holes and space anomalies. Oh, how she yearned for one small space anomaly!

One day, she would surely rise up from galaxy girl to universe girl. She didn’t know how, but she was determined to find a way.

One day, she would find a way.


May Writing Prompts

Through The Eye Of An Elephant

Have you ever seen the world through an elephant’s eye?

Have you seen the earth?

The moon?

Or the sky?


Have you seen the flowers or the leopards or

The silt water of a disturbed lake?


For they do not see these things

Not as we do.

They see them in their own silent way

As they travel with their troupes.

That much we do know.


But how do they see them?

What is this world like

When viewed through

An elephant’s eye?



May Writing Prompts

A Vampire Out On The Empty Streets

Author Note Didi Oviatt has a new WIP writing challenge for this month. It’s called The Temporary Insanity of Our Empty Streets 

Well, bloggers/writers, this month’s WIP Writing Challenge prompt is kind of a no brainer! I wanted to stick true to the chaos in the world right now, because we’re all stuck fighting a global pandemic, so clearly our Work In Progress characters are being affected in one way or another. Not only that, but as much as we want to use reading and writing as an escape from our current circumstances, which vary depending on our physical location on this pained planet Earth, we also want to shout our opinions from the rooftops!

I don’t want to hear of sickness and dying from the virus, because it’s real, and it’s too sad, and it’s scary AF!! But, if we want to shout out our daily insanities during a time of isolation, then why can’t our characters too? At first, I was torn between the prompts, ‘temporary insanity’ and ‘empty streets’… but then I decided, what the hell, why can’t I combine them?!?!?!

With that all said, here is my take on it!


The streets were empty and fear lived in the air.

There were no bustling crowds.

No rushing cars.

No teenagers.

No parents.

No groups of friends talking through their phones.

No Goodwill of the Month Club loitering on the street corners.

Ambrose could have thrown a penny down the sidewalk without hitting a single person.

And he was hungry.

He sniffed the air, hoping to catch a scent, good or bad. It didn’t matter which. He didn’t have the luxury of picking and choosing.

Not when the pickings were nonexistent.

I just want to go back home.

But I can’t. I know I can’t. Not until I’ve had my one bite. I just need one bite. Just one.

And I’ll be able to go home to her. She’s there waiting for me.

But I can’t come home with an empty stomach. I don’t want to bite her. I never want to bite her again.

His pupils widened as he caught a familiar scent. A wonderful, breathtaking, drool slathering, attention grabbing scent.

He ran to it before any other vampires could catch wind of it.

He ran unencumbered by crowds.

He ran fast.

He ran free.

He ran into a dim alley.

Slanted shadows obscured the right side of the alley, half-concealing trash and assorted litter.

But Ambrose didn’t smell refuse.

He smelled hot fudge and whipped cream and it beckoned lasciviously to him.

It was a flirt.

It was a provocative tease.

It was a waiting feast.

He slowed to a stop as a teenaged boy stepped out of the shadows.

The boy, Justin, smiled happily. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“Foolish boy. Some other vampire could have found you. And they wouldn’t have wasted time on nice conversation. They would have devoured you.”

Justin strolled up to him. “So? Devour me.”

Ambrose’s gaze fell on the boy’s exposed neck.

Justin tilted his head in expectation.

Ambrose lightly traced a line from the left side to the right side of the boy’s neck. “You smell so good.” he murmured as he gently turned the boy’s head into a better position.

“Do it. Bite me.”

Ambrose put his mouth close to Justin’s ear and whispered, “Not your neck. Wrist. I don’t want to make any mistakes tonight. I’m so hungry.”

Justin gasped, either from his word or his nearness. Maybe it was a bit of both. “I wish you’d bite my neck instead. I love how you make it feel.”

“Not tonight. Wrist. Or I go hunting for someone else.”

Justin straightened his head and offered his wrist to the vampire.

Ambrose accepted it. He kissed the middle of Justin’s wrist, which caused the boy to tremble. “Smells so good.”

So intoxicatingly good.

So good.



“Bite me.”

Ambrose did.

Two Guards And A Vamp.

Author Note:  I decided to do one more take of Didi Oviatt’s WIP writing challenge for this month. I wanted to do one for Elsie, but thought it would be interesting to do one from Hank and Dave’s point of view. Let’s see how they handle the danger of Lurking Vampires!

Hank held the café door open for Dave. “Now, that was a good meal.”

Dave blushed all the way up to his ears as he walked through.

“Hmm?” Hank took Dave’s hand. “What are you all blushy about?”

“You held the door open for me.”

“So?” Hank walked down the sidewalk, still holding Dave’s hand. “Is that all that unusual?”

Dave’s blue glitter highlights sparkled under the streetlights. “Maybe not, but it’s soooo romantic! Mick never held the door open for me. I always hoped he would, but he never did. He told me I’m a man. I should open my own darn doors and stop being such a dumb, whiny, needy broad. But you do it so automatically. It’s amazing! It’s just the most romantic thing!”

Hank wrapped his arm around Dave’s waist. “You make it all too easy, babe.”


Hank laughed. “Oh, I love that sound. I can’t wait ’til we get home.”

Dave’s eyes sparkled as bright as the glitter in his hair.

Hank hooked his thumb in one of Dave’s belt loops. “When we get home, I’m going to—-”

Someone rammed into Hank’s broad back. The impact didn’t knock Hank down. It just nudged him forward a little.

All the same, Hank stopped and looked back.

A young man stood behind them. He couldn’t have been any older than 21. Might have been younger. His gaze jumped from Hank to Dave as if he couldn’t decide on who to focus on.

He didn’t seem to be armed, but Hank wasn’t willing to take that chance. Hank released Dave’s waist and put himself in between his lover and this unknown kid. “What do you want?”

His gaze flicked to where Dave was supposed to be. He frowned at his absence.

“I said, what do you want?”

The young man nervously licked his lips. “I want you to follow me. Either of you. Maybe. Maybe both. Both smell good.” He licked his lips again.

“Sorry, but that is not happening. Go prey on someone else. Vampire.”

The young man’s tongue stopped in mid-lick. “I’ll go with the shorter one. Seems weaker. Still smells good. Hungry.”

Hank’s expression darkened into a hard glare. “You touch Dave, I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands.”

“Hungry. Hunger is everything.” He extended his claws and ran around Hank.

Hank spun around and ran interception. He slugged his fist into the vampire’s gut, knocking the breath out of him. “Go find someone else to gnaw on.”

“No wood. Can’t kill. Smells good. Hungry.” He licked his lips. “So hungry. Good. Good smell.” He aimed a swipe at Hank’s face.

Hank raised his arm in time. The claws grazed through his skin.

The vampire’s pupils widened at the sight of the blood. He grabbed his arm and licked it in a frenzy.

Hank tried to jerk his arm away, but the vampire held tight. He raised his free hand to bash the middle of the vampire’s back, but then he thought about it.


If I interrupt him, he’ll go after Dave. My sweet bubbly Dave.

I can’t let that happen.

I will not let that happen.

Hank lowered his fist.

It’s all a matter of time before he goes into a blood high. Just need to wait it out.

The vampire’s tongue was as hot and dry as a fever.

Hank wrinkled his nose in disgust.

This would feel so much nicer if it were Dave. His tongue wouldn’t be so dry. It would be moist. It would feel good. So wonderfully good.

I want to go home.

I want to go home with him. I want to—

Hank winced as the vampire dug his fangs into his arm. It hurt all the way into his bones. The pain radiated to his shoulder and up into his jaw. He groaned.

Dave came out of hiding and karate-chopped the middle of the vampire’s back.

The vampire broke his hold on Hank’s arm.

Dave didn’t give him a chance to think, much less retaliate. He grabbed the vamp by the hair and jerked him away. He proceeded to punch him as if he were a vampire punching bag.

Hank watched in silent awe.

Dave punched the vampire one last time.

The vampire dropped, moaning and groaning, to the ground.

“That’s what you get for biting my Hank.” Dave turned his attention to his lover. “Are you okay? Do you feel dizzy? Did he take too much blood? Did he—-”

Hank curved his hand around the lower part of Dave’s head and kissed him.

Dave leaned into the kiss and made happy little “mm!” sounds.

Hank eventually ended the kiss. “Babe, let’s go home.” He slid his hand down to the back of Dave’s neck. “I’ll let you play nurse and patch me up.”

“Eee! Soooo romantic!”

Hank laughed and led him away.

Lurking, Squabbling Vampires

Author’s Note: This is my second story for Didi Oviatt’s March WIP Writing Challenge about Lurking Vampires.

“The Wolfman is clearly overrated, as monsters go.” Hildreth readjusted his Bossman 550 on his back.

“Well.” Jeff said. “You can’t pick Dracula. That’s too obvious.”

Hildreth thought it over as they walked down the sidewalk. “Okay. You have a point. Besides, Invisible Man is where it’s at. I mean, come on! The guy can go invisible at will.”

Jeff chuckled. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“So, I have the Invisible Man. Who do you get? And you can’t choose the same monster as me. That’s cheap cheating.”

“Hmm.” Jeff stopped and glanced around.

Hildreth stopped as well. He scanned the crowd just like how Master Initskay had taught them. Some vampires could blend in with regular humans with surprising ease. Others stood out in wrong and obvious ways. “What do you think, Jeff?”

Jeff did another scan before replying, “Just humans. Come on. Let’s keep going.”

Hildreth followed the older boy’s lead.

“So, if you have the Invisible Man, who do we have left?” Jeff asked.

“Jekyll and Hyde. The Mummy. Frankenstein. Bride of Frankenstein. Uhh…Swamp Thing?”

“No, Swamp Thing doesn’t count.”

Hildreth snapped his fingers. “Rats!” He readjusted his weapon’s weight distribution. “So, no Swamp Thing. Who else—”

A loud ruckus broke out in the alley just a few steps ahead of them. Both boys pulled out their weapons – Hildreth’s Bossman 550 and Jeff’s wooden Tsunachu sword.”Make sure you don’t shoot me in the back.” Jeff said

“Make sure you don’t accidently stab me.”

“Fair deal.”

They ran towards the alley. Hildreth got there first.

“You slimy slug infested bubble bath!” A man with a patchy red goatee punched an older man in stained overalls, workman’s boots, and no shirt. Older man snarled, baring his fangs, which earned him another punch.

“You no goodnik hoodlum!” The older vampire growled. “This is my territory. Go find your own.”

“Wrong!” Patchy Red Goatee punched him again. “This is my territory!”

“Is not!”

“Is too”

“Is not!”

“Is—-” Patchy Red Goatee punched him again. “TOO!”

Hildreth looked over at Jeff. “Are they even worth staking?”

Older Vampire snapped to attention. “Oh, well. Look what we have here.” He elbowed Patchy Red Goatee in the face, causing the younger vampire to stagger back. “A couple of fledglings fallen so far from the nest.” He sauntered over to them. “And no daddy bird to keep you safe.”

Hildreth struggled to balance his weapon on his shoulder.

Jeff shifted into a defensive position. “We’re not afraid of you.”

Older Vampire bared his fangs and unsheathed his claws. “You should be.” He ran at them.

Jeff let out a yell and charged forward.

Hildreth almost dropped his weapon.

Patchy Red Goatee took advantage of Hildreth’s distraction. He rushed at him.

Hildreth quickly pulled the trigger. His shot went wide.

I can do this. I can do this. Don’t think. Calm. Don’t panic. Steady. Don’t freak out. Steady. Steady. The weapon is part of my body. It’s part of my shoulder. The weapon is me. I am the weapon. It is part of me. I am part of it. We are one.

Patchy Red Goatee bared his fangs and roared.

Jeff kicked the older vampire and thwacked him repeatedly with Tsunachu. The sword hummed ecstatically.

Hildreth watched Patchy Red’s approach and felt calm.

We are one. My weapon and I are one.

He balanced the Bossman 550 on his shoulder and it felt right. It felt solid. It felt like a part of himself.

Hildreth pulled the trigger and the bolt hit its target.

Patchy Red fell, just as Tsunachu’s song ended. The older vampire managed a slight gasp before he died.

The two young boys exchanged equally astonished looks. “We…we did it.” Jeff said.

Hildreth put his weapon away, ran to his friend, and hugged him. “We did it!”

Jeff laughed and returned his hug. “The night’s not over yet, you dweeb. Let’s survive the night and then we can go home and celebrate our first successful hunt with a weapon.”

“With Master Initskay?”

“Absolutely.” As they left the alley, Jeff said, “Just so you know, I choose the Bride of Frankenstein for the maximum win.”

Hildreth laughed. “You would, dork.”


Vampires Lurking

Author’s Note: Didi Oviatt’s new WIP writing challenge is up and this time the subject matter is………Vampires Lurking!

Let’s see it writers!!  Using the characters from your WIP that you already love so much, write a scene with Vampires Lurking! (or any of your works, really, whatever characters you think will fit the prompt best!)

So, here is my first take on it.


Ambrose slouched against the Cheap DillyDally’s store front. He folded his arms across his chest and watched the people passing by. He sniffed the air from time to time, but the only scent worth noting was mustard seed and hemlock. And that was not a scent he wanted in his mouth.

“Can’t start a fire.” he sang softly. “Can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark.”

He snapped to attention as a strawberries and cream scent drifted his way. “Now, that is more like it.” He unfolded his arms and followed the scent.


Robin sat in the back corner booth at The Rye Is Dry, But The Ale Is Hot pub. It was his usual place, usual time. Especially when there was nothing out on the streets worth biting.

He slumped forward and tapped his claws on the table top. “Shoulda had Isellta come with, but I darn well chickened out. Didn’t want him to see me like that.” He spread his hands on top of each other and rested his chin on them. “Don’t want him to see me as no freakin’ monster.”

Robin smiled despite his hunger. “Darn stupid fey’ll come runnin’ if I call his name.”

I wanna call him. Wanna see him just poof! appear just like that. Don’t like bein’ separated from him. Scared he’ll leave me again. Don’t want him to leave me again.

The waitress stopped at his table. “Hey there, handsome!”

Robin perked his head up as he recognized her voice….and her powdered sugar scent.

She smiled at him. “What’ll it be, captain? Your usual or do you want something a little less red?”

Robin licked his lips. “My usual. Duh.”

“Coming right up!”


Ambrose followed the scent at a calm steady pace. As long as they didn’t jump into a car and drive away, he’d find them. Besides, he knew from years of practice that running through a crowd was the worst possible way to catch prey. One had to be calm. Even though his stomach was growling, Ambrose stayed calm.

He followed the scent.


The waitress offered Robin her wrist. “Or were you going to aim higher today?”

Robin licked his lips again and shook his head. “Ain’t wantin’ to acc’dently kill you or change you.”

She waited with her arm held out to him.

“Just wrist this time.”


Ambrose found her.

She sat alone on a park bench, rummaging fiercely through her purse and muttering to herself. The scent of strawberries and cream was thick and decadent.

Ambrose was certain if he had a spoon he could have scooped it out of the air and the scent would have sat heavy on the utensil like the best kind of ice-cream. He approached her. “Hello.” His voice was warm and dark and inviting.

She stopped her rummaging and raised her head.

He smiled. “You look very frazzled.”

“Oh, you have no idea! So many stupid things have happened today. I’ve done so many things wrong. I’ve made so many bad choices.”

He chuckled. “Well? How about you make one more?”

She gave him a wary look. “What exactly did you have in mind?”


Robin pulled up her sleeve.

If ‘sellta was here, would he get all jealous? I don’t know, but it sure seems like somethin’ worth gettin’ jealous all about.

Reverse the roles and I know I’d be jealous of him.

He sank his fangs into her skin….into that wonderful powdered sugar scent.


Ambrose bared his fangs.

“A vampire, huh?” She sighed. “That figures somehow.”

“So? What do you say? If you say no, okay. I’ll go find someone else to bite. There is always someone else to bite. But let me tell you this much:  You smell amazing.”


“Yes. You smell amazing, like strawberries and cream.”

“Then, how come you aren’t rushing at me, if I smell all that good?”

He laughed softly. “Because I am not a mindless monster. I am not an animal. I am a man and I would like to give you a choice in the matter.”


The waitress hissed a breath between her teeth as Robin drank her blood.

It tastes so good. Robin thought. It feels so good in my mouth, in my throat, going down.

So freakin’ good…


Ambrose retracted his fangs. “What is your choice?”

A thoughtful expression came over her face. “I’ve made so many bad choices today and I’ll have to deal with the consequences tomorrow.” She silently thought it over.

Ambrose focused on his breathing. He focused on staying calm. He focused on not making that choice for her and diving at her neck.

He tried his best to not focus on his hunger and his growing impatience.

She stood. “Go ahead. Bite me.”

He swallowed hard as his gaze narrowed to her neck. “Where?”

She shrugged. “If you’re going to bite me, might as well go all out. Let’s make this a really bad choice: Neck.”

Ambrose didn’t waste time with any more questions.

The conversation was over.


Robin released her hand. “Thanks.”

She winked at him. “Any time, captain.”

As she walked away, Robin projected his thoughts all the way back home,  ‘sellta!

He didn’t need to say more than that.

Isellta appeared at his side.

Robin smiled up at him. “Hey.”

Isellta smiled and flapped his wings. “Robin.”

“Come on. Have a seat.” Robin scooted down the booth. Isellta eagerly moved in right next to him. “You had anythin’ to eat?”

Isellta shook his head. “I was too worried about you.”

Robin lovingly stroked his face. “You dumb stupid fey.”

Isellta leaned his head against him.

Robin pretty much melted. He kissed the fey’s head. “Love you.”


Ambrose stopped before he could go into a blood high. He kissed her neck and whispered, “Thank you.”

She rubbed her neck. “I’m alive. I’m…not a vampire?”

“Trust me. If I had changed you, you would know.” He thought about going home to Barbara. He could have sworn that his soul lit up like Christmas tree. “I have to leave. Good-bye.”

He ran all the way back home.

And Barbara was there on the front porch, waiting for him.






Dressed in White

She attended his funeral dressed in summer tomato red.

She stood at his grave dressed in winter cold white.

Neither one saw the need to wear black.

Black was for mourning. Black was for grief.

Black was for widows and broken hearts.

Their hearts had been broken, but they were not his widows.

Their hearts had been broken, but not by his death.

Their hearts had been broken, but they did not grieve his loss.

They would never grieve his loss.

So, she wore triumphant white.

She wore victorious red.

And they did not weep.

February Writing Prompts ❤️