The Right Vampire: A Romantic Halloween Story
Rusty Fischer
The Right Vampire:
A Romantic Halloween Story
By Rusty Fischer, author of A Town Called Snowflake
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The Right Vampire
Rusty Fischer
Copyright 2014 by Rusty Fischer
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This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Cover credit: © olenakucher – Fotolia.com
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Author’s Note:
The following is a FREE short story edited by the author himself. If you see any glaring mistakes, I apologize in advance and hope you don’t take it out on my poor characters, who had nothing to do with their author’s bad grammar!
Happy reading… and Happy Halloween!
Enjoy!
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The Right Vampire:
A Romantic Halloween Story
“I hate these things,” I gush, peering up into Dracula’s piercing brown eyes. I mean, I guess he’s supposed to be Dracula, though he could be Edward Cullen or Blade or… who knows? There are so many vampires to choose from these days.
“Me too,” he agrees, looking relieved as his hand rises to cover the cheesy plastic gold medallion that is part of his elaborate, if store-bought, vampire costume. “I never know what to say, you know?”
His voice is masculine but sensitive, like he really wants to know that I know what he means. “I know,” I agree because, as these things go, I’ve just struck blind date gold.
Make that platinum!
“Dracula” is six feet something of pure, lean, vampire hottie goodness. His black hair is cut short, almost to stubble, but it only serves to make his silly costume even sexier as he gets used to the bloody – but quite convincing – fake fangs that rest between his full lips.
He has a chiseled jaw line and a dimpled chin and the flowing red cape that hangs from a cheap clasp around his neck only serves to accentuate his broad, athletic shoulders and lean, narrow waist.
“I thought I’d see more vampires here tonight,” I say, making small talk, and he nods.
“Me too,” he agrees. (And he’s so agreeable, too!) “I guess they’re not as fashionable this year.”
“Plenty of witches, though,” he adds, looking me up and down with those soft, brown eyes. “I’m glad you came over here. I would have never known which one of you to pick, otherwise.”
He sounds so confident and self-assured, like he’s had a lifetime of “picking” women out of a crowd. How can I not feel flattered?
I blush and try for a joke. “Aren’t you vampires supposed to have the power of seduction or something?” I purr. Or try to purr. I’m not very good at purring, particularly when I’m all flustered by sexy vampires. It probably comes out more like a “pfft”.
He chuckles, but I can tell he’s used to getting compliments. “I’m not sure about that,” he says with false modesty, “but I find a red cape usually does the trick for any occasion.”
“Oh?” I joke. “Do you wear it often?”
He chuckles breezily and, as a sexy waitress in a sexy waitress costume comes by, sexily bearing a tray of drinks in little skull shot glasses I reach for two.
“To new beginnings,” he says when I hand him one, clinking our little plastic skulls together as we make awkward blind date eye contact. “And sexy witches.”
I almost spit up as I’m doing my shot, a frothy green concoction that tastes like sour apple vodka. “And to sexy vampires,” I reply, choking down the second half as sexily as possible, which is to say not very sexily at all.
He finishes his shot and licks his sexy lips, leaning casually on the little bistro table for two where I’d seen him standing the minute I walked into the party. “I wonder what our babies would look like,” he says, breath warm and smelling like sour apple.
I back up an inch – though it takes all my willpower to do so – and say, “Careful, Count; I hardly know you.”
He grins a crooked grin and says, “Forgive me, I can’t seem to control my tongue. I think you’ve put some kind of a… spell… on me.”
I tap the black sleeve of his sporty black vampire jacket and shake my head. “I never cast a spell on the first date, Count.” Then I pause and drift back closer to the table. “Though for you,” I whisper shamelessly, “I might have to make an exception.”
Oh god, did I just say that? I did. I totally just said that. I can’t help it. I’ve never been on a blind date that’s gone this well before. How can I not blush and giggle and coo like a stupid schoolgirl who’s just been asked to her first prom?
He laughs easily, breezily, leaning back and, while he’s not looking I admire the way his long, slender fingers still cling to the empty shot glass, imagining them caressing my –
“Haley?” squeals a familiar voice and I turn to find my BFF, and host of this year’s most fabulous Halloween party, Mindy approaching. “I love how your costume turned out!”
Mindy is buxom and blond, every inch of her comely curves poured into a sequined Little Mermaid costume that is very NSFW. She winks one glittered fake eyelash at me and pokes at Dracula with her plastic trident.
“And who’s this delicious dish?” she purrs and it actually sounds like purring. (How does she do that?)
Dracula and I share a look and I snort, “This is Todd, my blind date. And I must say we are certainly hitting it off. Remind me to thank you once I’ve come down off Cloud 9 and am back on earth…”
My voice trails off as I watch Dracula and Mindy exchange confused glances, the faintest glimmer of dread filling my suddenly clenched gut.
“I’m not Todd,” he says just as she says, “That’s not Todd!”
“Oh no,” I squeal, because after roughly 407 blind dates in my life I finally get a good one and it’s… it’s… the wrong one! “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no…” I continue to mumble and, if I was a real witch, I’d be melting into a pile of green, slimy tears at this very moment, my witch hat bobbing sadly on top of my own goo pile. “No, no, no…”
“That’s Todd,” says Mindy, pointing her plastic trident at another vampire lingering rather blandly near the buffet table, picking up bland food with his bland hands. His back is to us but even so I can see he’s a good inch or two shorter than me, and hardly the hunk that is Dracula # 1.
“Mindy,” I hiss, yanking her closer to discuss my Dracula dilemma out of Dracula # 1’s earshot. “Please let this one be Todd. Please, pretty please…”
Mindy chuckles but shakes her head. “Come on, Haley. Todd’s a really nice guy. The real Todd, I mean. I really want you two to meet, that’s why I set this whole thing up in the first place.”
I look over at Dracula # 1, who is busy watching the proceedings with a self-satisfied grin, and sigh, “But so is he, Mindy. I’m sure Todd is a nice guy, but… tonight I don’t want to be with a nice guy. I want to be with the right guy, you know?”
“I don’t know this guy,” Mindy jokes. “He could be a serial killer for all I know.”
“I’m not,” Dracula # 1 says to me, nodding toward Mindy. “But she’s right, you know?”
“Mindy,” I pout, literally stomping one of my witch boots on her hardwood floor. “If you just make some excuse, the real ‘Todd’ will never know.”
I nod my head, faster and faster, like the ditzy heroine in some cheesy made-for-TV Halloween romance movie. “Yeah, yeah,” I pant, “I mean, there are a dozen witches here. He’ll never know which witch got away, right? Right?”
By the end I’m desperate, voice
high-pitched, as Dracula # 1 looks on with that gorgeously bemused expression on his face.
Mindy ignores my Halloween histrionics, growing serious under her sparkly red wig. “Haley, it was just as hard for Todd to agree to this as it was for you. He was really looking forward to meeting you. He loves reading your blog and I picked him just for you.”
“But I pick this one,” I whine, shamelessly pointing to Dracula # 1 with my plastic witch broom.
“Have some pride, will you?” Mindy huffs, literally dragging me away from the little bistro table and onto the crowded dance floor, hot and glittery with sticky, costumed bodies. “God, I’ve never seen you act like this before.”
“I’ll be right here ‘vaiting’ for you,” Dracula # 1 says in his best cheesy vampire imitation, which isn’t so hot… but he is!
“I won’t be long,” I shout over the “Thriller” re-mix thumping through Mindy’s Gigantor rented sound system. He smiles, nods and reaches for another plastic skull shot off the sexy waitress’ tray.
Suddenly, I’d give everything to be that sexy waitress as she lingers, waiting for him to sip his shot
