Keep off the Grass

E.F. Gordon

Description

These are not the vampires from the movies or the romance novels. After reading this book you will see vampires everywhere!
They ride at dawn to ensure early morning commuters are late for work, pay in change at the grocery store to hold up the line, and attempt to cross busy intersections to scare the daylights out of people.
Who are these horrible monsters? They are the vampires of Silverdale, a progressive town where Lycans, Vampires, Witches, and Ghouls have managed to live in harmony.
Agnes is a member of the vampire cult, The Streetwalkers, which received its name when streets were invented. Due to the term “streetwalker” changing in meaning over time, Agnes advocates for a name change. When The Tall Order of Keep Off the Grass rejects her proposal, Agnes takes to the streets in protest, but her efforts are upended by the discovery of a murdered witch.
Worried that the crime may fracture the peace that has been brokered between the factions, Agnes sets off with her trusty side-kick Edna, a werewolf, and a cat, to solve the mystery and protect their beloved LVWG community.

Sujets

• Werewolves
• Vampires
• Vampiros (1998)
• Adventure (Guyana)
• Magic: el encuentro
• Comedy
• Witchcraft
• Werewolf
• Mystery
• Adventure
• Witch
• Magic
• Fiction
• Fantasy
• Vampire

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 02 juin 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665742771
• Langue: English

Extrait

KEEP OFF THE GRASS
 
 
 
E.F. GORDON
 
 

 
Copyright © 2023 E.F. Gordon.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
 
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4278-8 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4277-1 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023907564
 
 
Archway Publishing rev. date:  05/03/2023
CONTENTS
Chapter 1Nothing Rhymes With Orange
Chapter 2Nacho Man
Chapter 3Zombie Wait Staff
Chapter 4That Darn Cat
Chapter 5The Trouble with Kitty Litter
Chapter 6Shame in Name Only
Chapter 7Streetwalker 4 Life
Chapter 8Sticky Fingers
Chapter 9The Chatty Dead
Chapter 10The Where Woods
Chapter 11A Cat’s Desire
Chapter 12The Tingles
Chapter 13Rumors
Chapter 14Kiss of Death
Chapter 15Two of Hearts
Chapter 16ESP Tea
Chapter 17Adventures Without a Babysitter
Chapter 18Ghouls Gone Wild
Chapter 19The Secret Ingredient
Chapter 20Red Crotches
Chapter 21Poppy Don’t Preach
Chapter 22Winky Face
Chapter 23Ghoul Talk
Chapter 24Hazed and Confused
Chapter 25The Wicked Good Book
Chapter 26Malaria
Chapter 27Insult to the Crown
Chapter 28Chicken Fingers
Chapter 29That Smell
Chapter 30Without Collars
Chapter 31Prison Camp
Chapter 32Keep Off the Grass
CHAPTER 1 Nothing Rhymes With Orange
H e was suddenly aware of two gnarled and outstretched hands presenting him with an orange.
At first, the image was fuzzy, but as his eyes adjusted, his vision became sharp even though his mind was still a bit cloudy.
He peered at the woman to whom the hand belonged. She appeared harmless enough with her cloud of permeated hair, oversized glasses, and delightfully toothless smile, but alarm bells were going off in the recesses of his brain.
The elderly lady that stood over him was dangerous, he knew that, but he could not for the life of him tell you why as he peered into her milky eyes.
A sudden image of blood gushing from his neck flashed in his mind, and his hands reflectively flew to his neck in order to shield it. He was shocked when he wasn’t met with a thick and misty waterfall, and when he withdrew his fingers, he had expected to find them stained with rust-colored blood. Even though all the evidence contradicted him, he felt as if this was what should be occurring at the moment.
However, this was not the case; his fingers were not particularly clean, but no red residue was apparent.
The spot on his neck, the one he had expected to explode with fluid, tickled a little, maybe itched, but there was no evidence of the painful gash he had anticipated.
He was often confused due to the multiple lumps he had acquired as a child, which earned him the nickname, Lumpy.
As the seconds ticked by, Lumpy forgot all about his neck, and his previous fears were slowly fading as the harsh reality of the moment began to set in.
Lumpy suddenly realized that he was squatting in a dark alley as to why and how he had ended up in this precarious position still eluded him. While he had been pondering all of this, he had momentarily forgotten about the elderly lady that was still hovering over him.
“What did you do to me?” Lumpy gasped again as he felt the reality of what he knew just a few moments before slip his mind. As he posed the question to her, he suddenly remembered it had somehow involved fruit.
His companion in the alley furrowed her brow in concern. “Oh, dear me.” Her voice was kind but cracked from years of use. “You took a bit of a tumble; why don’t you let me give you a hand?”
She was carrying a large canvas bag which she used to tuck away the orange she had been flourishing in his face. She extended her palms as an offer to help him to his feet, but he waved her away.
Lumpy was only in his early twenties and didn’t need the aid of an elderly woman in order to get back up onto his own two feet. Feeling humiliated, he shielded his face in an attempt to escape her imploring gaze as he scrambled and failed to put himself upright again.
Using the wall behind him for support, he climbed his way back into an upright position. He felt a bit chaotic and clung to the wall to steady himself.
“How did I wind up on the ground?” Lumpy persisted. He was well aware that a fall had occurred at some point, but he was a pickpocket by day and a cat burglar at night. His profession demanded excellent coordination and the agility of a ballet dancer. If he was losing his touch, he might have to seek a new domain, and Lumpy was not too keen on developing new skills. It required too much commitment on his part, and he had grown quite partial to the skills he had already acquired.
He studied her as he attempted to piece together what had occurred in the last few moments. He recalled that he had been following closely behind her and another old bag; they both seemed to be chatting about nothing more interesting than the weather.
That was when the one standing in front of him had paused to open her umbrella. The action caused the fruit she was carrying in her bag to spill onto the sidewalk and roll into the alleyway. He recalled he offered to help her; to be honest, he just wanted to get her into the alleyway and out of public view so he could mug her without any interference.
He had been in the process of picking up an apple, preparing to make his move, when something happened. From that moment on, his mind went blank. Even though he could not form an accurate picture of what had happened next, there was an unsettling feeling attached to that dark gap in his memory.
He was standing over the elderly lady now, her friend was nowhere in sight, and now he was contemplating whether he should complete the task of robbing her. She was several feet shorter than he was and peered up at him now. He looked into her sparkling blue eyes and felt fear seize his heart.
He didn’t know why, but he felt he had to escape and get away from her as quickly as possible. Even though he was not wearing a hat, he moved his fingers in a tilting motion as if he were tipping his brim to her. “Sorry about the inconvenience, ma’am.” He murmured politely.
She clasped her hands over her heart. “Inconvenience?” she cried. “Why you were so kind to help me retrieve my fallen fruit…” she paused and motioned in the direction of the wall that was supporting him. “I’m just concerned about you,” She said and then kindly reminded him, “That was a terrible fall you just took.”
He looked down and blinked at the space he had just abandoned. He did not recall taking a fall; however, this must have been what happened. After all, it did explain his memory loss. The old lady turned then and started digging in her bag; she extracted the orange she had been holding out in front of him only a moment ago.
“Here,” she offered it up to him, “For your troubles.”
He didn’t want the orange; all Lumpy wanted to do was get as far away from this woman as fast as his feet would carry him. He was also afraid to offend her, so he accepted her gift.
“You run along now,” she told him. “It looks like this mist is going to turn into a steady rain soon.”
He didn’t argue with her but dumbly nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he told her as he backed out of the alley. For some reason turning his back to her didn’t seem like such a good idea. As soon as he was back on the public sidewalk, he did another imaginary hat tip again and said, “Thank you, ma’am,” before whirling around and bolting.
He only dared to look back once and saw that she stood there watching him go and waving.
AGNES
When you have lived as long as Edna and I have, you tend to notice things.
Our entire purpose, a vampire’s purpose, is to study the human race, and observe and record events as they take place.
Of course, humans, the copycats that they are, have their own community that had been assigned the task. They called themselves “historians,” though, in my opinion, they were nothing more than fictional storytellers that managed to squeeze a grain of truth in here and there.
Humans had developed a unique defense mechanism; they had a bad habit of forgetting the most unpleasant details.
I suppose this was necessary for self-preservation, but it rendered humanity incapable of accurately recalling and recording history, thus making the existence of vampires imperative.
Our presence has been a long one, and though humans were capable of surprising you once in a while, they were very predictable more often than not.
We have observed them long enough that we were able to predict their intentions; they had tiny tell-tale signals that repeatedly announced what action they intended to take next. This was done subconsciously and became more prevalent when they were attempting to be discreet.
One example would be the young man following Edna and m