Jun 5, 2014

"Ice cream is not good for virgins" --- This is heaven (teaser)

Alex and John have left an elated Albert behind, and are on their way back to John's apartment to begin their life ever-after. They are intercepted by a tribe of vampire tourists:

We are about to turn the corner of Nick’s Restaurant but are held back by a bunch of kids coming from Georgia Avenue. Teens, mostly, tribal in appearance, piercings, pipe jeans, some Cherokee heads, smudgy mascara, third generation punks who have seen an ocean before and are too cool to remember. They look at us, we look at them, Alex’s arm is still on my shoulder. There’s something exploratory about their body talk. One or two are homophobic (if I read them well). “You know where the beach is?” a pale-faced girl without piercings asks Alex (we are standing on the boardwalk). Alex explains about the beach (“This is the beach”). 

"This is the beach" (Rehoboth Beach, DE, the model for Georgia Beach, seen with the eyes of Peggy Noonan's statue (roughly)

“You locals?” Yes we are. They’ve just arrived per overnight ride in second-hand passenger vans still misparked on the main street, they explain. “Where’s the festival?” The festival is on the grounds of Surfside Field, between Lake Gerard Park and the beach, half a mile to the north, at least that’s where it was last year.

“That’s where the gay beach is?” one of the homophobes asks. He’s dressed for the occasion, black cape and artificial fangs that shine in the sun when he opens his mouth (if they are artificial, that is).
“Taylor, come on,” the second homophobe says, “you can do your sodomy thing later, when your penis is grown.” Alex is patient, he explains about the gay beach.
“You guys are gay?” the girl asks.
“You guys are vampires?” Alex asks back.
“Yup,” the second homophobe says.
“Real ones?” Alex asks.

“Alex, will you buy me an ice cream,” Juliette asks.
“Ice cream is not good for virgins,” Alex replies.


There’s some tribal confusion, they haven’t decided yet.
“Yup,” Taylor insists.
“You should be lying in your coffin,” Alex says and points at the sun.
“That’s so yesterday,” the girl replies. “Don’t you seen how my skin sparkles in the sun?” There’s something about her skin, I realize, some silver dust in her makeup perhaps. “You should read Twilight,” she adds.
“Haven’t read Twilight,” Alex say, “where are your fangs?”
“I’m still a virgin, “she says. “What’s your name?”
“Alex,” he replies, “What’s yours.”
“Juliette.” And, having said this, the virgin puts a hand on Alex’s pecs (he’s still top-naked, the T-shirt dangling from his right hand), makes a seductive step forward---she’s a bit over the top, perhaps fatigue from the night ride or peer pressure from the tribe, this doesn’t look like her normal routine---and asks, the voice a bit slower: “Alex, will you buy me an ice cream.”
“Ice cream is not good for virgins,” Alex replies.
“I’ll do anything for ice cream,” she says.
“Yeah, I guess,” he says. “Let’s see where this goes,” he adds in my direction, “let’s buy her an ice cream.”
“We have no money,” I say, “we didn’t bring any money.” The tribe erupts in laughter. Fangs sparkle in the sun.

Are you still there? Then you'll possibly like the GREEN EYES. The first part is out now, available as Kindle book on Amazon, under this link:

Night Owl Reviews

Go here for the previous teaser, here for the next one, and here for a selection of chapters of the Green Eyes. 

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