by Jackie Rose
When the mortals start vamping the vampires…then what’s a poor vampire to do?
Catering to a growing group of Undead Americans, the President has decreed that everyone must have a chance to benefit from his Eternal Care Act…more commonly known as “Draculacare.” It seems like a great idea….until it becomes all too clear that it is driving the vampires batty, with mortals becoming all too eager for their dark kisses (not to mention other intimate acts as well). Thus continues the silly but sexy best-selling series that started with I’m Undead and I Vote.
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I’m a Vampire…In Charge of Draculacare
Copyright © 2014 Jackie Rose
ISBN: 978-1-77111-928-3
Cover art by Latrisha Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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I’m a Vampire…In Charge of Draculacare
By
Jackie Rose
Dedication
Of all the characters in this book, my favorite is Ingrid Foha, the fluffy but feisty little were-Maltese. Her initials stand for Friends of Homeless Animals, which is a wonderful no-kill shelter, to which this story is affectionately dedicated. You can learn more about it at www.foha.com.
Chapter One
“May you be cursed for a thousand years! May werewolves tear out your heart! May zombies devour your brains! May no banshee ever wail at your death! May the witches cast their most evil spells against you! May you wander through the depths of Hell for all eternity!”
Howling wolves echoed the vampire’s oaths, while lightning flashed and thunder roared above his house, despite the usually calm Northern Virginia weather. And what had driven Dracula to shriek those chilling curses, thus summoning up the storm? Easy…he was trying to sign in to his computer, only to receive that dreaded message in return… Your password is incorrect. Please try again.
He had tried every variation on vampire, including tepes (his real last name), vyrdelek (the original Slavic word for vampire) and undead…followed by numbers up to 6,666,666. But all were answered by the same hideous warning, locking him effectively out. It was enough to make him denounce the entire program that was called (crash of thunder, please)…Draculacare!
And damnit, he was Dracula. So who had an even better right than he did to take part in the President’s Draculacare campaign? Of course, it was officially known as the Eternal Care Act, but Draculacare had definitely caught on.
* * * *
It had all started a month ago, when President Felix O’Neill had decreed that everyone in the country should qualify for eternal life…and at no cost to the taxpayers. What’s more, the campaign would be led by the president’s own undead son-in-law, Congressman George Zagorsky (D-Calif, naturally). But it soon became obvious that Zagorsky had (pardon the expression) bit off more than he could chew. In fact, he was driving his fellow Undead Americans absolutely batty.
For one thing, under the new plan no one could bite anyone without reporting it, via that horror of horrors…filling out forms on line, as the real-life (or, rather, real-death) Dracula was desperately trying to do right then. And he knew all too well that that effort could last an eternity.
Of course, the Congressman had assured all the citizens that they could choose their own Sires or Brides…but that made things even harder for people like Ellen Reinecke, who already had chosen Dracula to serve as her Sire, transforming her into his vampire Bride with his dark kiss. Dracula was doing his best to register himself on line as her Sire, but his cursed computer had other ideas.
It meant that his mate could not be an official Bride of Dracula, until the government’s requirements had been met. Which included filling out forms to prove consent by the vampire and victim alike. And she had sacrificed enough for him already…most notably, by sending her little boy to live with his father, since Luther had been teased so badly by being called the Son of Dracula (or the stepson, anyway).
It was all enough to make Dracula want to flee with her back to Transylvania, where vampirism was highly regarded as a vital part of the tourist trade. But too many dreadful traps awaited him there…most notably his mother, who had gone home to his great relief, after her nonstop nagging of him to comb his long dark moustache and sit up straight.
“I have the worst of all possible worlds!” she sniffled, when he explained his problem to her, as they sat across the table drinking their Type O during midnight breakfast. “I can be called your girlfriend, or your mistress, but not your Bride. I only wish I had never heard of Draculacare!”
Unfortunately for the president, many people…living or dead or both…had started feeling the same way.
* * * *
They most definitely included the celebrated TV commentator who had never liked Obamacare either.
“It’s so nice to be here again talking with you, Mr. Bill,” gushed the Countess Vyrdelek, whose maiden name had been Tiffany Golden, but who still insisted that she was a true-blue Undead American anyway.
With her warmest smile, she waited for him to assure her that he was just as happy to have her on his show. Her grin faded as he kept staring coldly back at her.
“Don’t try to butter me up,” he warned. “I know that you are here to push Draculacare…and just like your liberal friends who came here to defend Obamacare, I am going to push you right back.”
“I am sure you are,” she answered defiantly, shaking her head of curly red hair. “You spent enough time attacking Obamacare, so I suppose you will do the same for us.”
Leaning forward, she added in a higher voice, “But you must know that the program is strictly consensual, and all candidates can choose their own Sires or Brides, just as I chose…”
“I know, just as you chose Count Victor Vyrdelek and he chose you,” he interrupted her…as he usually did with any guest who disagreed with him. “But that was before this national program started. Now, the Sires cannot even choose their own victims…”
“Their own brides!” she cried. “Believe me, I have never been a victim for anyone, especially Count Victor!”
“No, but your first Sire was none other than Congressman Zagorsky, who seems to be in charge of this disaster! And you were the one who got him elected with your rallying cry, ‘I’m Undead and I Vote.’” Triumphantly, Mr. Bill swept on, “But I don’t think his attack on you was consensual, either.”
Lowering her head, she murmured, “It became that way very soon. But when I met Count Victor, I became both an Undead American and a Transylvanian noblewoman.” Proudly, she fingered the American flag pin she always wore in her navy blue lapel, right beside her yellow, red and blue Transylvanian badge. Bill ignored the gesture.
“You chose him as your Sire!�
� he accused. “You were free to do that, weren’t you…because you did not have to fill out all those on-line forms regarding your new relationship, the way both Sires and victims must do nowadays? And I hear they are all as angry as I am!”
“Well, every new program has its problems,” she feebly replied, squirming uncomfortably on her chair. “But they are all being ironed out.”
“And you are lucky that you have all the time in the world to do it! You and your people, I should say…and I use that term loosely, since they are technically no longer people at all.”
“They are loyal Undead Americans!” she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.
“Yes, loyal to President Felix O’Neill and his followers, like his wife Evelyn the Witch and their daughter Maeve the Banshee and their son-in-law, Congressman Zagorsky the Vampire!”
“They…we…are as patriotic as anyone!” she cried. At that point, tears would have been running down her freckled face, if she had had any of them to shed.
In his coldest tones, he leaned forward to sneer, “And I suppose that includes the vampire prostitutes who are selling themselves to the Draculacare applicants…with a sexy setting included.”
“That isn’t true!” she gasped. But she had already heard the rumor that told her it was all too true indeed. Even worse, one of those ladies of the (perpetual) evening was among her own Count Vyrdelek’s former Brides, who had gone off on their own after he had married the current Countess Tiffany. They had done very well for themselves on their own, and she was glad about that…although she wished that Simona had done it some other way.
Chapter Two
But perhaps prostitute is much too strong a word. Draculacare providers like Simona Vyrdelek saw themselves more as professional Eternal Care specialists, offering a pleasant way of ushering their clients into their new lives…or new existences, anyway. Their on-line advertisements showed their photos, as a way of illustrating how pleasant the entrance could be.
Needless to say, their personal Web sites were soon overloaded with would-be clients, because the government sites were much less efficient…to the point of being completely worthless.
“Start your eternal bliss in a truly enchanted evening with Simona,” she whispered, in her irresistible accent. “My service is free, as the government requires…but it will be enhanced by extra added attractions.” Her tone left no doubt as to what those attractions would be.
“Your eternal life as an Undead American will begin with my floating through the window, wearing this Victoria’s Secret gown that will reveal my charms…to the strains of my own slow and sensuous music, which I have recorded as a professional pianist to heighten the mood.”
With the sheer white garment in question clinging to her curvaceous figure, while her long black hair fell to her bare shoulders, that part of the promise was obviously sincere. So, too, was the slow and sensuous musical background to her seductive speech.
What she declined to mention, was that her dark kiss would be followed by even darker pleasures. She hinted at them by ending her invitation with the promise, “It will truly be a night to remember…with all these added attractions, in return for a small gift in return.” Like all hip hookers, she knew enough to ask for a “small gift” rather than a “fee,” which would have landed her in jail for a whole lot of nights.
Under those circumstances, her clients tried even harder to fight their way towards her, past all the other private computer programs that had grown up under Draculacare. A few of them succeeded…and fortunately for her, they tended to be the ones with the most advanced computer equipment, bought at the highest prices…just like her own fees. And for the clients who were reaching her Web site, those fees were not very small at all.
* * * *
To her delight, her first client was movie-star handsome. In fact, he was a movie star. She recognized him at once from his series of Undead Cop films, where he always wore his trademark tight blue jeans.
The realization led her to wiggle and writhe even more energetically, as she floated through his open window into his bedroom. It was a setting fit for a star, she realized happily…with the purple brocade canopied bed beneath the coffered ceiling. In fact, it had been a setting for his hit movies.
“It is such an honor to be with you tonight,” she gushed…sounding, for once, more like a giddy schoolgirl than a seductive siren. “I mean, your movies do so much for us Undead Americans, by giving us such a positive image, that I am glad I can do something for you in return. If you are here to learn how to portray an Undead American on film even more successfully, I will be glad to help you.”
“You are giving me all the help I need,” Jimmy Sanford assured her, gazing at her with his soulful blue eyes, as though she were the most important person in the world to him…which, at the moment, she was. “Playing a vampire isn’t hard…but my problem is, staying young enough to do it.”
With a shake of his tousled blond hair, he explained, “While vampires never get any older, actors do. I am about to hit the big 5-0, so I’ll be seeing lots of TV and magazine celebrations about how great I still look, but still is the magic word…or rather the tragic one. No one ever says that a vampire still looks good.
“And when my show is finally cancelled, I’ll be playing the hero’s father the next time I show up on the screen!” He shuddered at the thought, as violently as though a legion of zombies were ringing his doorbell.
Simona nodded sympathetically, realizing that no one ever said that she still looked good, at over 500 years old. She had stayed looking good because that’s what vampires did…and right now, she was very grateful that she could help her first client do the same.
Then he broke into his trademark dazzling grin, as he added, “Besides, being a real vampire while I am playing one should bring me a lot of publicity, too.”
“Do you…do you think I could get some publicity for myself?” she asked. “I mean, I am a professional pianist…besides being an undead one, of course.”
She had actually played at the White House, but decided not to mention that fact, considering the way the affair had turned into a disaster, with Andrew Jackson’s ghost trying to throttle the current President.
Hastily changing the subject, she raced on, “I was even married to a count at one time. Well, I mean I was one of four Brides of the Vampire, until he took up with that undead activist Tiffany Golden, who is his countess now. But that would be an interesting story for one of your movies, don’t you think?”
“It sure would! And I am sure I could find a part for you in my next picture, as a nightclub pianist, perhaps. But first things should be first, don’t you think…and isn’t that dark kiss the first thing you should give me?”
“With pleasure!” Flinging herself on him, she wrapped her slim arms around his broad shoulders, stood on tiptoe to receive his embrace and thrust her tongue between his full lips. After he had kissed her long and hard in return, he pulled back his head to gently remind her, “That was a great kiss, no question…but I don’t think it was really the dark kind.”
“Oh, I am sorry, forgive me!” she exclaimed. “I know that this is what you came here for.” Rising on tiptoe again, she expertly nipped his powerful neck and planted her full lips around the puncture to suck a few drops of his blood.
“How was that?” she asked him, as she pulled her white teeth away. “How do you feel now?”
“Just great!” He assured her, with an even more dazzling smile. “And young enough to go on playing vampires forever. So, how much do I owe you for that?”
“Nothing at all,” she answered, to her own surprise. “The pleasure was all mine. Or, rather, both of ours.” In a softer voice, she added, “I just hope it hasn’t ended yet.”
“I can show you that it hasn’t.” Taking her long, pale hands in his hard, broad ones, he led her to his bed, lifted her into his strong arms and placed her gently on her back.
Raising that costly Victoria’s Secret gown to her waist wi
th one hand, he used the other to expertly unzip his trousers and draw them down to his ankles. Then he raised and spread her knees, so he could plunge himself into her depths.
To his own surprise, those depths of hers were warm and wet, with nothing undead about them. On the other hand, as he realized happily, he had never heard of a vampire needing birth control. Boosted by those two reassuring thoughts, he found himself thrusting deeper and deeper into her, as she opened and closed her private parts, ever harder and faster, around him.
When they were lying beside each other, with her head resting on his shoulder, he looked down to ask, “But shouldn’t I be out promoting Draculacare now? I mean, since I have benefitted from it myself.
“I know that lots of actors were out working for Obamacare, but I have a special reason for supporting Draculacare now…because I have become an Undead American myself. And very proud to be one.”
“And I am even more proud, to have brought you into the fold.”
“And speaking of folding…” he said with a smile. Laughing happily in response, she snuggled against him as he folded her into his arms.
* * * *
When he heard the TV entertainment news, saying that Jimmy Sanford had joined the undead assisted by his new companion Simona Vyrdelek, her former Sire was not pleased.
“So now she is the female Sire of a movie star,” Tiffany mused. “Does that make her a Sire-een? I mean, she isn’t technically his Bride…”
“Whatever you call her, she was doing it for the money,” Count Victor told his lady, shaking his head of curly black hair in disgust, as he switched off the offending program.