It seems that there is no end of women coming forward claiming to have had an affair with President Trump. We have seen the interviews with Stormy Daniels – a porn star, and Karen McDougal – a former Playboy Playmate. (When will we see the videos?) There’s also a lawsuit from Summer Zervos, a former contestant on "The Apprentice."

Here’s the thing -- voters don’t really care. Some probably admire him. It all reinforces one of my core beliefs; politicians need concubines (professional mistresses). If the public would acknowledge that people in power attract people of the oppose sex and may succumb to temptation, then this solution makes sense. This would eliminate the rumors, non-disclosure agreements, hush money, the needless spending of tax payers’ money and campaign contributions and the resignations of otherwise perfectly good politicians. These concubines would be on the payroll and paid according to the level of office. If an official doesn’t want a concubine, they must take a vow of celibacy. This would have helped President #Clinton and a long list of congressmen and a few senators. It would not help Trump for an affair before he was elected.

Of course, concubines must have a security clearance because of “pillow talk”. They will need the same level clearance as the person they are serving; for example, Top Secret for POTUS. As government employees, they must also have a rank. Government ranks are called GS levels. GS-12 through GS-15 are the same as field grade military ranks. I suggest a concubine working for a high-level Federal government politician be ranked as GS-15; governors’ concubines would be GS-14; Senators and Representative would have GS-13 concubines. Seems fair enough.
​
I look forward to this being enacted soon.

Now that Spring is here, I read with interest a news item about what to throw out from your closets. Heading the list were clothes but also old Halloween costumes, cosmetics, and anything from your ex’s. I think several things were omitted from the list. I have included them here:
1.      Your cousin who has been in the closet since junior high school.
2.      Memos of your meeting with Trump.
3.      Those old eight track tapes (also the 78 rpm records).
4.      Non-Disclosure Forms
5.      The KKK hood and gown that you thought would make a hilarious Halloween costume but didn’t.
6.      Several skeletons from your family.
7.      Jimmy Hoffa’s body.
8.      Whips, chains and other erotic paraphilia from former lovers.
9.      That ghost that haunts your house.
10.  The monsters your kid says hide in the closet.
11.  Nude pictures of you when you were young and needed the money.
12.  That suitcase full of money along with a handgun your uncle said to hide for him until he gets out.
I hope this has helped you in your Spring cleaning.
​

As we age, we may start to forget things. It doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something wrong; it may mean our brains are full of memories. It’s okay to forget some things. No one can remember everything. Here’s a list of things people forget and how to hand them:
1.      Your significant other’s name: It’s okay to forget your significant other’s name. Wait until they go to sleep, and then check their driver’s license or other documents. If you still can’t remember, you can call them “honey” or “sweet heart” for several years. However, forgetting your S.O’s name but remembering an ex’s name is a no-no. When you get a chance, steal a peek at their drivers’ licenses.
2.      Kids’ names: Also, no big deal. Just use terms like “big guy” or “princess” until you remember. When you get a chance, look at your will; their names are probably in there. No will? Then just forget their names.
3.      Passwords: This depends. If it’s a password for a web site, usually there’s a way to have them send you an email with a link to reset your password. Some sites will ask you security questions. If you can’t remember the answers, there may be a telephone number you can call. If you forget your computer password, you can always buy a new computer.
4.      Zip up: It’s okay to forget to zip up. Someone will remind you. Forgetting to unzip is more serious and may be an indication you’re ready for the nursing home.
5.      Old enemies: It’s okay to forget your old enemies. They’ll assume you forgave them.
6.      Old friends: Friends don’t let friends forget.
7.      The way home: Okay, this is serious. I recommend you sew your name and address into your clothes. If you get lost and can’t remember your way home, take out the address and hail a taxi. If you’re driving, use your car’s GPS. If you have a cellphone, use the map system. You can also ask for directions. Try this trick; draw a map on your stomach.
8.      Eating: It’s okay to forget to eat occasionally. Forgetting to chew is more serious. If you’re like me, the problem isn’t forgetting to eat, it’s forgetting to stop eating. 
9.      Cussing: Cussing is another thing that’s okay to forget. In fact, your family would probably like you to forget to cuss. Unfortunately, cussing is one of the last things people forget.
10.  Putting the toilet seat down: Female/male dominance aside, forgetting to put the toilet seat down isn’t a big deal. However, forgetting to lift the lid is a big deal. It’s the sort of thing that will send you to the nursing home. Best advice is to use the shower; no seat, no lid.
11.  Taking a shower: Most people won’t care if you forget to take a shower. Old folks are supposed to smell like old folks. In fact, I think there’s a deodorant for seniors that smells like old mothballs. Better yet, just carry mothballs in your pockets. If you don’t like the smell of mothballs, try fabric softener tissues.
12.  Spelling: Everyone has forgotten how to spell, just like cursive writing. Just use spellchecker.
13.  Where you parked your car: I hate forgetting where I parked. The best trick is to have a key fob with a locator button. Another trick is to have your significant other with you so one of you can remember where you parked. Remembering what car you parked next to is not a good idea.
14.  Why you entered a room: This is another thing I hate. The best solution is to write on your hand what it is you are going for. If you forget to look at your hand, that’s a separate issue. If your hand turns black because it’s covered with reminders, that too is another issue.
15.  Significant other’s birthday: This is a big deal; not because it’s your soulmate, but because it’s the password to half of your stuff. Once again, sneak a peek at their driver’s license. It might be best if you made a copy of their license.
​I’m sure there are other things best forgotten or remembered but these are my top picks.

My latest wip is a novel, Night Predator (working title), about an FBI agent who is a vampire and his human partner. I posted the Prologue and the first four chapters earlier, so if you missed them, scroll down. I need feedback. Here is the draft of Chapter 5
​
Chapter 5 – 59 Years Earlier

Nicolae Thanatos lay on his stomach in the dark on a small knoll overlooking a meadow in the Carpathian Mountains. On his left was his eldest son, Alin and on his right, his youngest son, Jure. They were watching a small herd of Red Deer below. It was a cloudless night and an hour past the end of twilight – perfect for night hunting. Far from any city lights, the heavens seemed to be filled with stars falling over the horizon. Nicolae inhaled deeply. The deer were still too far away for him to smell them, but he smelt the Norway spruce forest surrounding the meadow. Yesterday evening, he smelled a brown bear on the prowl. Bears are a protected species in Romania. There was no need to compete with a bear for a deer; there are plenty of deer. He called off the hunt. Tonight, he needs to get a deer.

Nicolae loved hunting. He preferred the traditional methods of hunting using a bow. But tonight, was not about tradition; tonight was about business. He needed venison meat for his butcher shop. The three men had high powered hunting rifles equipped with scopes and night observation devices (NODs). In the dark, he could see the herd of deer without any night device to assist him. Nicolae knew they could bring down three deer, but he had room in his freezer for only one. “Call out your targets,” Nicolae whispered in a Romanian dialect.

“I have the big buck in the middle,” Jure whispered back.

"The doe on the right near the big pine tree,” Alin whispered.

Nicolae touched Jure’s shoulder. “Not the buck,” he whispered. “Not this year. He must sire a few more fawns. Alin, if you have a shot, take it.”

A second later, Alin fired, and the doe dropped dead. The rest of the herd jerked their heads up. The buck darted for the woods with all the does following.

“Spot it,” Nicolae said.

“It is five meters to the right of that pine tree.” Answered Alin.

“Good. Move out,” Nicolae commanded.

Nicolae and Alin started walking toward the doe. Jure jogged back over another knoll where they had parked the ATV so they wouldn’t spook the deer. He started the ATV and turned on the IR lights and put on his IR goggles. He could see without the IR lights, but with them, he could see better and drive faster. He started driving toward the meadow, stopping to pick up his father and brother. In a few minutes they arrived at the pine tree.

Alin and his father walked over to get the doe while Jure started to unload ice chests from the trailer behind the ATV. Two large pheasants were already on the trailer. As he set up two battery powered lanterns, Nicolae and Jure dragged the dead deer over to the pine tree. Nicolae turned the doe’s head, exposing her neck. He said to Alin, “You made the kill, the first blood is yours.”

Alin knelt and felt the doe’s neck for the artery. Once he found it, he exposed his fangs and sunk them deep into the neck. He drank the still warm blood for a minute. When he stood up, his father called Jure who also sunk his fangs into the doe’s neck to drink the warm blood. Finally, the father drank blood from the doe.

Jure spread a plastic tarp under the deer and Alin placed several stainless-steel bowls on it. Nicolae elevated the hind quarters of the deer and inserted a long knife at the point of the jaw and below the neck bones. He then sliced forward severing the jugular vein, carotid arteries and trachea. Alin placed the bowls to catch the blood. As one bowl filled with blood, it was replaced with another, the blood poured into a plastic jug and placed in an ice chest. After several minutes, the blood flow slowed to a trickle. Jure tossed a rope and block and tackle to his father. His father attached the rope to the front legs of the deer while Alin hooked up the block and tackle to a low hanging branch of the pine tree. Soon the doe was hanging from the tree.

The men stopped to take a break before field dressing the deer. Alin poured each of them a cup of coffee as they sat down on camp chairs. Once the coffee was gone, Alin removed a plastic bag from the ATV and placed it under the doe. Nicolae’s experienced hands performed the field dressing. After a few cuts, the entrails dropped into the plastic bag. He fished around the plastic bag and removed the heart, liver, kidneys and small intestines. He placed them in a separate ice chest. Meanwhile, Jure had set up a propane field stove and had a fire going.

“Can I take a bite of the heart?” Alin asked.

“No,” his father answered. “I cannot sell it with fang marks on it.” He continued to work while the deer was still warm and soon had it skinned. He sliced off a large piece of venison and tossed it to Jure who caught it in a frying pan. Alin removed a carton of eggs from a backpack. Soon the three men sat done to a breakfast of venison and scrambled eggs.

“It does not get better than this, fellows,” Nicolae said. “Hunting at night and then having steak and eggs for supper. Our ancestors have been night hunters for centuries. This bloodletting has been performed thousands of times.” Alin and Jure chuckled. “What?” their father asked.

“Dad,” Alin answered. “Every time we go hunting with you, you tell us that. We heard it hundreds of times. We get it.”

“Humph,” Nicolae replied. “I just want you to remember. It has not always been this easy.”

“What do you mean?” Jure asked.

Nicolae took a deep breath. “From time to time, the humans have persecuted vampires, especially during the World Wars. There was a lot of killing on both sides.”

“That is ancient history,” Alin said. “We have been at peace with the humans for a while now.”

Nicole threw his coffee on the ground. “It will not last. These things are cyclic.”

“Why do humans hate us?” Jure asked his father.

Nicolae thought for a moment. “All hatred starts out as fear.”

“Okay… why do they fear us?” Jure asked.

That’s a tough question,” Nicolae said. “Because we are different I suppose. We live in the night and humans fear the night. They think we want their blood. Some still believe if we bite them, they become vampires too.”

“Those are old superstitions,” Alin said. “How did they get started in the first place?”

“Superstitions are easy to believe and die hard,” Nicolae said. “When Christianity first arrived here, the natives, the old Dacian tribes thought the Christians killed babies and drank their blood.”

“Because of the Eucharist?” Alin asked.

“Correct,” his father answered. “But it is not just us. Humans also persecute the Jews, Slavs, gypsies, and homosexuals. I guess they fear if we ever get into power, we will persecute them.” All at once, Alvin and Jure both stood up and turned toward the east baring their fangs. “What is it?” Nicolae asked. Alvin picked up his rifle. Jure started toward the ATV to get his rifle but stopped when his father held up his hand.

Jure pointed east. “Wolves. A small pack. Maybe four or five. In that direction.”

“It is okay,” Nicolae said. “They smell the blood. They have been circling us for ten minutes. Now they are upwind. They will not come near until we leave.”

“Unless they are werewolves,” Jure joked. The men laughed.

After breakfast, Nicolae and Alin moved the carcass to the ATV trailer while Jure scraped the fat and flesh from the hide with a knife. He then spread a layer of salt on the inside of the hide, rolled it up and put it on the ATV trailer. After the men cleaned up, they started the trip to Nicolae’s butcher shop in the village. Nicolae was driving. He came to a sudden stop thirty meters short of the main highway. The boys heard it too; a small convoy was coming down the main road. Nicolae parked under a pine tree out of sight. Two minutes later, a convoy of six trucks drove by. Each truck flew a large black flag with a red-letter V on it.

After the convoy passed, Jure asked his father, “What does the V stand for?”

Nicolae looked at his two boys. “It’s an organization I do not want you boys to get involved with.”

Alin spoke up, “V stands for the vampire rebellion. They are demanding a homeland for vampires in the Carpathian Mountains.”

Nicolae turned towards his son. “How do you know that?” he demanded.

Alin shrugged his shoulders. “I have friends involved with them. It sounds like a good thing.”

“Good thing?” Nicolae said. “The homeland they want in the Carpathians includes parts of Romania, Ukraine, Poland, Hungary and Slovakia. Those countries will never agree to it. It means a possible war.” Without another word, Nicolae started the ATV and pulled onto the main highway heading toward the village. At the butcher shop, the boys helped their father carry the deer carcass, ice chests and the two pheasants into the shop.

“Can we stay and help cut up the meat,” asked Jure.

“No,” answered Nicolae. “You have to get to night school. Make sure you spread out that skin before you go to school. Tell mother I will bring home the liver. We can have liver and onions for supper.” Nicolae waved goodbye to his sons as they drove off in the ATV. Then he walked inside and started to cut up the deer.

Once on the road, Jure said to Alin, “I know you are part of the rebellion.”

For a minute, Alin didn’t say anything but kept his eyes on the road. Finally, he asked, “Who told you?”

“Karayan Nelo.”

“Karayan has a big mouth,” Alin said.

“He told me because he was trying to recruit me,” Jure said.

“It is not his job to recruit you,” Alin replied. “You will join when the time is right.”

“And when will that be?” Jure asked.

“When you are a believer. Why did you ask father what the V stood for if you knew?”

“I did not want him to know we knew already.”

Just before sunrise, Nicolae’s partner -- a human -- arrived to open the butcher shop for business. It was a good partnership; Nicolae hunted at night and provided the meat and his partner helped butcher the meat and sell it during the day. “Good hunt?” his partner asked as he put on a clean butcher apron.

“Yeah. I have a Red Deer nearly ready for you. Tomorrow I will have the pheasants. If you have time, you can start on the sausage. See you tomorrow morning.” Nicolae hung up his apron and left for home. 

$$$$.
​

In honor of International Women’s Day, I post this helpful dictionary for men.
No. (Never, nada, nyet, negatory, negative, not in a zillion years, not if you were the last man on earth) This one is rather simple. “No” means “no” in every language.

Yes. “Yes” doesn’t always mean yes. Usually it does. Sometimes it means maybe. Procedure with caution.

Fine! Run for cover, save yourself. “Fine” doesn’t mean everything is fine. It just means end of conversation. It doesn’t mean all is forgotten. It means that this discussion will be continued later. Later could mean any where from ten minutes to ten years.

Do whatever you want. This is a trap. Under no circumstance do whatever you want. Proceed with extreme caution. You are on thin ice.

I don’t want a gift. This is another trap. Do not assume that you need not buy a gift. You must buy a gift.

Excuse me? This is the ultimate trap – a set up. Do not repeat what you just said. You have said something stupid or rude and are about to have the rug pulled out from under you. Act like you don’t understand what you just said.

Is that your final answer? This is another trap. Never say “Yes, that’s my final answer and I’m sticking to it.” It means your significant other already has a rebuttal ready and as soon as you stop talking she will lambaste you.

I like your best friend, brother, sister. This is a red flag. Your SO finds someone else attractive. You will soon breakup.

Does this make me look fat? There is no good answer to this question. Never say “Yes”. Say something like, “It makes you look younger”.

I love you just the way you are. This is a bold face lie. Women say this to make men lower their guard; then immediately they try to make changes.

Are you going to wear that? This is not a question. It means go change into something more acceptable. It is not a request. Just do and save yourself a big hassle.
​
I hope this helps men understand what women say a little better.

My latest wip is a novel, Night Predator (working title), about an FBI agent who is a vampire and his human partner. I posted the Prologue and the first three chapters earlier, so if you missed them, scroll down. There are 40 chapters, so I’ll start post them more often. I need feedback. Here is the draft of Chapter 4.
Chapter 4
Two days later, Judy interrupted a morning exercise Branko was conducting in the HAMC3. “Branko, I just got a call from NYPD. They’ve a triple homicide that looks like it belongs to us. They didn’t have time to explain.” She handed Branko a printout.
Branko glanced at the printout and handed it to Marty. “Get us zere fast.” Marty punched in the address on his dashboard GPS -- a super version. A map appeared showing multiple routes to the address. It also depicted current traffic patterns and weather. Marty selected a route and the HAMC3 started forward in the self-driving mode. The route took them down FDR drive to Old Ship Street and then down a narrow alley to a warehouse. Several patrol cars were blocking the alley. The HAMC3 was guided around the patrol cars and closer to the warehouse.
While the HAMC3 was moving, Branko and Alex slipped into their outside uniforms which consisted of leather pants and shirts like bikers’ leathers, boots, gloves, and a special helmet with a sun visor that could flip down when needed. With the helmet, they didn’t need umbrellas. Both applied a special sunscreen to any exposed skin around the neck and wrists, helping each other when needed. Alex saw Mike watching. “Vamps need all the protection they can get from the sunlight,” she said. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you put on my sunscreen.” Mike smiled at the thought.
When the HAMC3 stopped, Marty said, “I guess this is as far as we go.” Marty grabbed his body armor and stepped into the grey morning light.
Branko stopped him. “You and zhe others stay in zhe HAMC3 for now. Mike and I will check it. We do not need a crowd in zhe crime scene. Keep your ears on.”
After Branko and Mike left, Marty shook his head and turned to Alex. “What does he mean, ‘Keep your ears on?’”
Alex laughed. “You forget Branko is like a hundred years old. His expressions are ancient. He meant for us to keep our commo lines open, so he can talk to us.”
Marty shook his head again. “Why didn’t he say so? It’s not like we have a choice.”
All FBI field agents have a cochlear device implanted at the academy in their right ear. The implants are wired to a processor attached to the skull just above the right ear. The processor is smaller in diameter than a quarter and about the same thickness. A thin flap of skin hides a tiny microphone and processor. The processor is voice activated. The implants are invisible but enable agents to communicate with each other on several channels using boosters.
Branko led the way inside the warehouse. Most of the warehouse was dark except at the far end where some lighting was set up. A small group of detectives and policemen stood inside the circle of lights. The crime scene was cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape. An officer stood by the tape with a clipboard. Beyond the tape were three bodies hanging upside down a couple of feet from the floor, suspended from a ceiling beam by a steel cable that ran through their Achilles tendons. No other restraints were used. Branko approached and identified himself and asked who the CSI team leader was. Branko signed the ledger and then found the FBI agent who was the CSI team leader, William. (Bill) McGarry. He was the same height as Branko but a lot thinner with a thin mustache and thick glasses. He had been in the FBI longer than Branko. Branko felt Bill resented him because he rose up through the ranks much faster.
“Hello Bill,” Branko said. “You got zhe lead on this one?”
“No. Senior Special Agent (SSA) Francis gave the lead to you,” Bill said with a slight smile. “I just have the crime scene and the forensics.”
“Fine. Give me a status report.”
 “The police got a call from a maintenance guy a couple of hours ago. He came in to repair a leak and found them like this. My crew is still working the crime scene. We’ve tagged all the evidence. We haven’t moved anything since we knew you guys were on the way. ME is on the way – stuck in morning traffic.”
“Find any weapons or ID?”
“No, but we’re still searching the building. Here’s the odd part and the reason I told Agent Francis to call you; the bodies have been drained of blood. There’s no blood anywhere. Except for the bodies, the crime scene is clean. There are puncture wounds on the arms, neck and Achilles tendons. Their teeth and finger tips are missing too. Looks post mortem. They were drugged. Probably killed somewhere else and brought here. It looks like a ritual bloodletting.”
Branko shook his head. “No. They were killed here. You could say they bleed to death. Let me view zhe bodies for a few minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll check back in ten. I got plenty of things to do.” Bill turned and sauntered away.
Branko tapped Mike on the arm. “You first. See what you can discover. I will record.” Branko turned on his cellphone and held it up. “Team, commo check.” Marty, Judy and Alex all responded. “Alex, get on line and see whom owns this warehouse. Okay, team, listen to Mike’s observations.”
Mike turned his cellphone on too and turned the camera toward the bodies. “Are you receiving this?” Everyone answered in the affirmative. Mike slipped on latex gloves and stepped closer. “Three bodies, all naked and hanging upside down. Three Caucasian males, appear to be middle aged. The only restraint is a medal cable strung through the Achilles tendons.”
Branko interrupted “Any restraint constricts zhe flow of blood.”
Mike continued, “I see puncture wounds on the sides of the neck and on each arm at the bend of the elbow.” He pointed at the chest of one of the victims. “What’s this? Appears to be a tattoo.” Branko zoomed his camera lens on the tattoo. “Each victim has the same tattoo on the left side of their chest. Looks like some type of bow and arrow.”
Branko interrupted again, “It is zhe emblem of a Romanian Recon Regiment. Our vics were members of zhe Regiment. Every member got this tattoo – same place.”
Mike looked at all the victims. “The vics all appear to be near the same age.” He focused on one victim. “However, this one is unkempt – not as clean cut. The other two look like business men – nice haircuts, wore watches and wedding rings which are missing.”
Branko interrupted again, “Judy, check your sources and see if there are any missing persons reports in Neu York. Alex, see if you can get addresses for ex-members of zhe Romanian Army living in Neu York.”
“Negative, Branko,” answered Alex. “All military records of the veterans from Romania that signed the London Accords were destroyed as part of the general amnesty of the London Accords.”
Banko sighed. “I know that, but veterans joined together in organizations after zhe war. They have records. Zhe Romanian Army has a vets’ organization headquartered in Romania euth chapters in zhe US. They should have a list of names and addresses. Tell then we need zhe info to ID a body euth zhe Hunter tattoo. They will cooperate.” Branko turned toward Mike. “Get closer.”
Mike bent down near the face of one of the victims and sniffed. “Chloroform.”
Branko smiled. “Yeah, I smelled it as soon as we came in. They subdued zhe vics euth chloroform and then brought them here and drained their blood.”
Mike used a thumb to open the mouth of one vic so Branko could zoom inside. “The teeth are all knocked out.” He held up one hand of the vic. “Finger tips are cut off. I guess they wanted to make it hard to ID these guys.” He stood up and turned to Branko. “You’ve seen this before.”
Branko nodded. “It is a ritual bloodletting, except for zhe teeth and fingers. We used to do it during zhe war.”
“But why now? There’s plenty of human blood available.”
Branok shook his head. “They weren’t after zhe blood. Even in zhe war, we were not after blood.”
Mike noted that Branko said ‘we’. “What then?”
“Whoever did zhis wanted to send a message. I am guessing zhe perps are Vampire Freedom Fighters. They are sending a message to zhe Hunters.”
“What’s the message?”
“Zhe war is back on.”
​

I read with interest an article by Kristine Cannon, “Are You a Toxic Coworker?” on my Living/Careers news feed. She wrote that toxic workers wreak havoc in the office and make the work environment stressful and uncomfortable. Quoting Benedicta Banga, career strategist and founder of Leader Initiative, Ms. Cannon said that toxic coworkers are: “self-absorbed, confrontational, rude, controlling, gossipy, and unforgiving.” As usual with lists, she missed a few red flags. As a community serve, I provide more clues that you or a coworker might be toxic.

A toxic person will: unfriends all coworkers and family on Facebook, carry a concealed weapon to work, refuse to reveal their first name, document all conversations, hang a Nazi flag in their office, clean their AR-15 in the break room during lunch and wear body armor to work.
​
Usually, the voices in the toxic worker’s head aren’t on speaking terms with the voices in your head.
Be aware of these red flags that a coworker is a toxic person and be prepared.
​

My latest wip is a novel, Night Predator (working title), about an FBI agent who is a vampire and his human partner. I posted the Prologue and the first two chapters earlier, so if you missed them, scroll down. There are 40 chapters, so I’ll start post them more often. I need feedback. Here is the draft of Chapter 3.

Chapter 3 -- 25 Years Earlier

Somewhere deep in the Carpathian Mountains forest, Jure Thanatos followed his older brother, Alin, into the rundown building that served as the headquarters of the vampire rebellion.  Karayan Nelo, Parris Gregario, and the other two battalion commanders were already in the room. As the leader, Alin sat down behind the big desk and spread out a map. He started the meeting (in Romanian), “Well, today was a disaster…”

Karayan stood up and slammed his fist down on the desk. “A disaster? It was a catastrophe. We lost fourteen men today – six by air strikes before we crossed the line of departure. We cannot go on like this. We have to change our strategy.”

Alin locked eyes with Karayan, his face flushed with anger. “And what do you suggest, Napoleon?”
Karayan straightened up. “We cannot stand up to NATO with our small army. They are destroying us. We cannot face them in open combat. We need to move underground and start using terror.

“Terrorism? You mean targeting noncombatants? That will mean collateral damage. Innocent people will be killed.”

Karayan threw his hands up in the air. “There are no innocents. Currently, only vampires support us. We must convince all sapiens they cannot be neutral. If they do not support us, there will be no peace. They are either with us or against us – no in between”

Alin shook his head again. “No, no. I will not allow it. Do you think you could do a better job than me?”

Jure felt the cold barrel of a 9mm pistol in the back of his neck. Parris leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “If you move, you’re a dead man.”

“An orangutan could do a better job than you!” Karayan shouted.

At that insult, Alin’s nostrils flared, and he bared his fangs. Karayan did the same. Alin jumped onto the desk with both feet. With a loud growl, he leaped onto Karayan and grabbed his throat. But Karayan was ready for him. He grabbed Alin by the shoulders and rolled backwards. As he rolled back, he kicked Alin in the groin, lifting him up and over his head. Alin landed on his back with a thud that knocked the breath out of him. Karayan used Alin’ momentum to pull himself on top, straddling him. He grabbed Alin’s head and banged it on the floor.

The sound of his brother’s head hitting the concrete floor made Jure cringe. He wanted to jump in to help his brother, but Parris pressed the pistol into his neck even harder. A quick look around told Jure the others weren’t going to stop the fight even though no one was holding a pistol to their heads. Meanwhile, Karayan was slapping and punching a semi-conscious Alin.

Alin stopped resisting, so Karayan stopped beating him. He helped him to his hands and knees. “Damn it, Alin. Do I have to kill you?” Alin sat back on his heels and shook his head. He pulled his hair back, tilted his head to one side and bared his neck in the traditional vampire act of submission. Karayan snarled, bared his fangs and just as quickly stopped. Then he clasped Alin by the neck and hugged him. “I do not need your blood, comrade. I just want you to obey me and to be loyal to the cause.” And just like that, Alin was out as the leader and Karayan was now the commander of the rebellion in a bloodless coup.

Karayan turned to Jure. “Are we going to have trouble from you?” Jure tilted his head and bared his neck in the same manner as his brother. “Good.” Karayan hugged Jure. “There is work to be done. Effective immediately, I want you take over 1st Battalion. Parris will be our new intelligence officer. Go see your troops. Your staff is waiting for you. Don’t worry about your brother. He will be our new logistics officer. Everyone be back here at sundown. We will bury our dead and start planning our new strategy. Any questions?”
​
Jure was still in shock. Parris was the previous commander of the 1st Battalion. His vehicle was waiting outside to take Jure to his headquarters. It was now clear that the entire coup was well planned. It was the first time he had witnessed the traditional vampire act of submission even though little blood was lost. Personal fights between vampires seldom resulted in actual killing.

This is one of my favorite short stories. I haven’t posted it in a while, so here goes.
Heads I Win, Tails You Lose
​“Heads, we get married; tails, we break up.”

Judy nearly spit out a mouth full of her cosmopolitan when she laughed. If that remark came from a boyfriend, she might have been angry but coming from a total stranger, she thought it was the funniest pick-up line she had ever heard. She was sitting alone in this popular bar, and this was not the first line of the evening that she had heard, but it was intriguing. It got her attention. She turned on her bar stool toward the stranger. “What?” she shouted above the din of the bar.

In a slightly louder voice, the stranger leaned in and started to repeat his remark. “I said...”

Judy cut him off. “No, no. I heard what you said. What do you mean?”

The good-looking stranger smiled. “Well, that is where all these relationships are heading, right? You meet someone and down the road, you either break up or get married. I am just trying to save time. Heads, we get married; tails, we break up.”

“Wait! Wait!” Judy said with a grin. “If those are my only choices, I must have a name.”

“No, that just makes breaking up that much harder. It’s easier if we don’t know each other’s name.”

“Yes, but what if it turns up heads and we get married? I have to decide if I like your name, right?”

“No. You can keep your name, if you like, or you can hyphenate the names. It’s your call.”

Judy smiled. “No deal. I have to have a first name at least.”

“Okay, my first name is Bob.”

Judy stuck out her hand. “Hello, Bob. I’m Judy. Nice to meet you."

Bob shook Judy’s hand. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s flip the coin.”

Judy poked a finger into Bob’s chest. “No. No. No. I have some questions first.”

“Trust me, Judy. The less we know about each other, the easier it will be to break up.”

“Look! Either I get to ask some questions or no coin toss.”

Bob thought about it for a few seconds. “Okay, we each get three questions. You first.”

Judy took a deep breath. “Question number one; do you want kids?"

Bob’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes! I love kids. Next question.”

Judy laughed. “Question number two; where would we live?”

“Wherever you like. I’d even be willing to live near your family.”

“Well, that’s good. Now the last question; does this line get you many dates?”

Bob, laughed and shook his head. “Actually, this is the first time I have tried it.”

Judy nodded in agreement. “I thought so. Now you ask three questions.”

Bob thought for a minute. “Okay, here goes. What’s your favorite color?”

“What! Of all the important details you need to know before we get married, and the top of your list is my favorite color. Why?”

“If we do get married, I will bring you a rose every day in your favorite color.”

“Well, lucky for you, it’s red.”

“Very well. My next question is; what’s your favorite type of food?’

“Italian. Why?”

“If we get married, I will take you out for Italian every Friday.”

Judy grinned. “Sounds good. Last question?”

“My last question is; how am I doing so far?”

Judy nodded. “Actually, not too bad. Flip the coin.”

Bob flipped the coin up, but Judy intercepted it before Bob could catch it. She slapped it on the back of her other hand and removed her top hand to reveal heads. Then she picked up the coin and turned it over. “Really, Bob? A two-headed coin?”

“I, I, I just wanted to increase my odds. How did you know?”

Judy smiled. “Let’s just say that this is not my first rodeo. How about we flip to see where you will take me for dinner? Heads for Italian and heads for Italian.”

Bob smiled. “Okay.”
​
Judy flipped the coin and caught it. Without looking at it, she slipped it into her pocket. “Italian it is.”

“Can I have my coin back?”

Judy laughed as she hooked her arm in his and headed for the door. “Don’t push your luck.”

THE END