I was going to write this post a week ago, but…

You’re given a month’s notice of the impending deadline. A week goes by, then two. Soon, the day arrives. It’s time for your four-hour presentation. Or your in-laws are about to knock on your front door. Or it’s your uncle’s pet iguana’s birthday.

iguana

Igor at his birthday party.
(Image courtesy Patrick Buechner via Flickr)

But you’ve only rehearsed half your presentation,  you haven’t made the guest room bed and you have no present for Igor, the Iguana. Not even a card. You scramble to throw something together. Perhaps a handmade card, with a narwhal on it. Not your proudest moment, but for some of us it happens all too often.

norwal card

Image courtesy Laine Trees via Flickr.

Procrastination. We’re all guilty. I’m procrastinating right now. There are a few things I should be doing instead of writing this post: bathing my cats (Ha! Have you ever seen a wet cat??), researching the origins of the Snuggie, or actually working on my novel.

black wet cat

Image courtesy WATERBOYsh via Flickr.

gray wet cat

Image courtesy Julie Manzerova via Flickr.

annoyed wet cat

Image courtesy Belal Khan via Flickr.

happy wet cat

Weird–this cat actually looks happy.
(Image courtesy Felicity Rainnie via Flickr)

And the farther away the deadline, the more you procrastinate. Well, you tell yourself, you have days, weeks, or months to complete the task. Why worry about it now? There are so many cute cat pictures on Pinterest that need pinning. Then, depending on the size and scope of the project, panic sets in as the deadline approaches. Instead of working on the project little by little, you slam it all out in one caffeine fueled frenzy.

Unfortunately, this process works well for me. I become focused and feverish. And I always get the job done. Except when it comes to my book.

It’s funny. The thing that is most important to me, is the thing I procrastinate finishing the most. Maybe I think I don’t have enough time to dedicate to the project, or I tell myself that I should just get these two things done first, then I’ll edit. I want an uninterrupted block of time to work, and by the time I get those two other tasks done it’s time to watch Sleepy Hollow, and I can’t miss an episode of Sleepy Hollow.

sleepy hollow

Image courtesy Loren Javier via Flickr.

The real problem, though, is that I don’t have a deadline. There is no due date for my project and all these other tasks are time sensitive. The presentation is already scheduled, the in-laws have purchased their plane tickets, and Igor was born on November 28th.

So, I’ve decided to give myself a deadline: December 31st. I will have my entire manuscript edited and in the hands of my beta readers by the end of the year.

deadline

Image courtesy Kalexander2010 via flickr.

I’ll keep you posted throughout the month on my progress. My hope is that it will keep me motivated. Knowing that I will have to announce my progress to the world, or my lovely little group of followers, should be the push I need to disable my Netflix account and edit.

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Libby’s Post – What’s up with this chick anyway?

I left Evan at the Waffle House and went straight to Nerdo Vamp’s office. This was important. It had to be taken care of, like now.

I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stopped at Nerdo Vamp’s desk.

“Yes, yes, Mr. Alexander. To be certain. Although, one must remember that these are uncertain times in which we live.” Nerdo Vamp dropped his pen and turned away from me.

I marched around the desk and stood in front of him again, this time flailing my arms overhead.

office

Courtesy Chris Meller via Flickr

He shooed me away and swiveled around to face the front door

“What’s got you so worked up?”

That voice–it was Brian. He would surely take me seriously.

“Oh my god, Brian.” I flung myself into a chair and let my arms drop lifelessly over the armrests. “I am in sooo much trouble. My husband, you know, Evan, he had this woman follow me. And she knows. She knows it all. And now she’s after me. She’s going to tell everyone… about me… us…all of us. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Do I kill her? Do I turn–“

“Libby,” Brian bent over and grabbed my shoulders, “it’s fine. We’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of what?” Nerdo Vamp was now standing beside me.

Brian opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bag of potato chips. “Some woman found about Libby and is demanding to be turned, or else.”

“Right.” Nerdo Vamp adjusted his bow tie. “Libby, you will learn that there are many reasons a vampire may turn someone, and blackmail is not among them. What do you know about this woman?”

“Uh, oops.” I winced.  “Nothing, except that Evan hired her to follow me. She must be some sort of private detective.”

“Well, Libby, I suggest you inquire further. We may be supernatural, but we are not miracle workers.” He went back to his desk and turned off the computer. “Brian, get the bag.”

I found my phone and dialed Evan’s number.

“Hi, Libby, I–“

“I need to know her name,” I said before he could say anything else.

“What? You aren’t going to turn her?”

“Her name, Evan. I need to know.”

He was silent for a moment and then whispered, “Camden Scott. Her name is Camden Scott.”

“All right. And where does she work?”

I got the address hung up the phone. I looked from Brian to Nerdo Vamp. “Camden Scott.”

Brian dropped his bag and laughed.

“What?”

pretzels

Courtesy David Lofink via Flickr

Nerdo Vamp sighed and sat back down, restarting his computer. “Camden Scott, also known as Fiona Ridgeway, Sunshine Pierce and Beulah Taylor, is already a vampire.”

“Her real name is Mary Billingsley.” Brian opened a bag of pretzels and offered me a bag of Doritos. “Want some?”

I shook my head.

He rubbed some of the salt off a pretzel before popping it in his mouth. “I’ve helped her change names twice now. She’s always into something, causing trouble, creating drama.”

“And sticking her nose where it does not belong,” Nerdo Vamp added.

Brian ripped open the bag of Doritos. “She claims she’s a vampire rights activist. What was her last cause?”

doritos

Courtesy Sean MacEntee via Flickr

“I believe it was ‘Blood Bags are for Brooders’ or something along those lines.”

“That’s right.” Brian licked the cheese powder from his thumb. “She’s anti-blood bag because she believes it’s in a vampire’s nature to hunt, to kill. And if vampires deprive themselves of that basic need, the vampire becomes emotionally disturbed, anxious, depressed, what have you. They then become more likely to commit suicide or kill another vampire… and obviously, more broody.”

I held out my hand for a Dorito. “Is that true?”

“There’s some data to support the theory, but you know, there’s not a lot of vampire centered research out there.”

“I think my all time favorite has to be ‘Humans, Not Housecats’.” Nerdo Vamp nodded at Brian, “Wouldn’t you say?”

“That was a few years ago, after a certain movie came out. She had different versions: ‘Humans, Not Housecats’ and ‘Humans, Not Horses’ and my favorite, ‘Humans, Not Hamsters’. Remember the bumper stickers she handed out at the last conference?”

“Quite silly, they were.” Nerdo Vamp spun his chair back around and began typing. “Like anyone would place something so ridiculous on their automobile.”

Brian moved on to a bag of Fritos. “Yeah, I stuck mine on the refrigerator.”

fritos

Courtesy austinboardman via Flickr

“Okay, this is fascinating and all, but why is she messing with me?” I folded my arms and tried to look pouty.

“Good question, Libby,” Nerdo Vamp said, picking up his phone. “That’s what we’re about to find out.”

**Why not start the series from the beginning? Click here to read about Libby’s first day as a vampire**

Our House – A peek beneath the drywall

Some people might think we were crazy. Others might say we were foolish. But to us the next logical step was to buy a house, one that needed a little work, a little love.

We’d just gotten engaged a week prior when we found the house of our dreams: a 50-year-old foreclosure that, according to my personal standards, was barely inhabitable.

House before remodel

Note the weeds, dead grass and complete lack of curb appeal.

We fell in love instantly. I mean, what wasn’t to love? It had hardwood floors that had been painted brown, a heater that couldn’t be used, kitchen cabinets with holes in the bottom, so if items weren’t placed correctly they would fall through onto the counter tops. There was even an “addition” on the back for more space.

bathroom before remodel

The icky bathroom, with cracked tiles, filth everywhere and broken fixtures.

Kitchen before remodel

The kitchen cabinets were made from scrap two by fours and plywood. The doors didn’t line up, were falling off and just nasty.

Master bedroom before remodel

This was the master bedroom. First, you can see the floors were painted brown. Second, you can see that a bed was in the room when the floors were painted. I totally get why this happened. I understand. When I dust or vacuum, I just work around things. Moving them is way too much work. And nothing says relaxation and romance like walls painted Kermit the Frog green.

Exterior of addition

This was the addition. The back porch was framed in and “windows” had been installed.

Inside view of addition

An inside view of the addition. To make it seem more, well, like a part of the house, carpet was added and the brick wall was painted white.

First we disinfected the house from floor to ceiling because, as my fictional vampire Libby would say, “It was just like ew! You know.”

Then, with the wisdom that comes with never doing something like this before, we allotted ourselves  two weeks to work on the house before we had to relinquish my lovely, up to date, and heated condo. I bring up heated because the gas company wouldn’t turn our heat on because the furnace was unsafe. We lived without heat for about a week. I had to buy a space heater and spent each night under a mound of blankets. As most of you know. I am cold… all the time. This didn’t help.

My husband started on the bathroom, gutting it to the studs. He worked pretty quickly, but there were still frequent visits to fast food restaurants for bathroom breaks.

bathroom remodel

Nothing like showing up after a long day of work and finding your only bathroom looking like this.

bathroom remodel

I might have had a moment of fear here. Or denial. He’s got this under control. I’m sure. I’m just going to go stand in the living room and try not to touch anything.

where the toilet goes

Where the toilet goes.

Now with a toilet

The new toilet and floors.

And one of the nice things about installing your own toilet is you can do this the next time your tube of toothpaste is accidentally flushed:

toothpaste in toilet

This was my fault. Don’t ask how it happened.

Our next step was to rent a giant dumpster and begin the demolition phase of the remodel. My mom and I ripped out baseboards and doors. We even took a sledge hammer to the “addition” in the back.

Tearing out baseboards

Ripping out baseboards in the very yellow living room/dining room.

Ripping out the addition

Bye bye addition. Our insurance company considered it a hazard. It had to go. Right away.

Taking down the roof

My husband and dad taking down the roof.

So we lived without baseboards, doors, a functional kitchen and a tiled shower and tackled the remodel room by room.

kitchen cabinets

Kitchen demo. Tearing out cabinets and tile backsplash.

No kitchen cabinets

Everything was gutted and then the sink was propped up with 2 x 4s. There was a full wall between the kitchen and dining room that we tore down to make a half wall instead. The full wall was where the stove is in this picture.

The fridge back in the kitchen

The stove and sink were switched, so that the stove was against the main wall now and the sink was against the half wall. And the fridge was finally out of the dining room!

repaired walls and paint chips

Here the walls have been repaired and you can see the half wall that was created. And, of course, all our test paint spots are scattered about.

kitchen almost finished

Almost finished! It still didn’t have drawer pulls and we hadn’t replaced the back door yet, but you get the idea.

sink

A view of the sink and half wall that now opens into the dining room.

This all took multiple trips to Home Depot, usually in the same day, because it’s nearly impossible to get everything you need in one trip. And of course lots of caffeine, tolerance and faith.

One of the last projects we tackled was stripping off the paint from the addition.

paint picking

This was back breaking and time consuming, not to mention toxic. It was probably the worst part of the remodel.

It took us about to a year to complete the remodel and we walked away still in love. We even got married a little over halfway through the process. And now, when I look back at the pictures, it’s strange, but I miss those days a little bit. It was exhilarating taking on new and daunting tasks. And the thrill of completing something you’re proud of can’t be beat.

Hmmm… Could another remodel be in our future?? Are we up to the task again? I don’t know. It is nice having heat and countertops you aren’t squeamish about touching and walls with baseboards and stuff.

Living room

The once bright yellow living room/dining room decorated for Christmas.

bedroom

The master bedroom that is no longer Kermit the Frog green.

bathroom

The finished bathroom.

Kitchen today

Our kitchen today, decorated for Thanksgiving.

outside house

Our front yard with grass and flowers.

Our days were spent obsessing over paint colors, tile combinations, door styles, drawer pulls, and baseboard styles. Together we remained calm after we vetoed the 60th paint color tried in the kitchen. We managed to still love each other even if we couldn’t agree on whether the cabinets should have roll out shelves or not. Somehow we cooked delicious meals when our fridge was in the dining room and our sink was propped up by 2x4s.

And now I feel more attached to this house than anywhere else I’ve lived. It’s mine, ours. Something we created. And even if things didn’t turn out perfectly, I still consider it a success: there were zero trips to the ER for DIY related injuries, we learned tons about home maintenance and we confirmed that we could work as a team, even in the most (in my opinion) dire circumstances.

 

Libby’s Post – What has Evan done?

Waffle House Interior

Image courtesy rpavich via Flickr

So I met Evan at the Waffle House today, at 1:00 p.m., just like he asked. I did my best not to cringe as I walked inside. And as I expected, I was BY FAR the best-dressed person there. I’m not sure why people think it’s acceptable to go out in their pajamas and oversized Tweety bird shirts, but they do.

It didn’t used to be like this, at least not that I can remember.

Evan and I practically lived at the Waffle House when we were younger. It was around the corner, had good eats and was open 24 hours a day–perfect for our secret late night rendezvous.

We would sit, side by side in a corner booth, and plot and plan and scheme. We were going to make it be big. We had to. We had to be better than our middle class parents. We weren’t going to struggle to pay the bills or put our kids through college.  And we were going to have a huge house and fancy cars and designer clothing. We’d finally be able to stop pretending to be the people our friends thought we were. I could stop searching for Guess jeans at the Goodwill and buy them new and with a credit card of my own. Soon, we would be envied. People would be jealous of us, and all the things that we had. It was just a matter of time.

Today, we sat across from each other in our old corner booth. It had been more than ten years since I’d eaten there, but really, are you surprised? Once I had more than a few dollars to my name, I was schmoozing the society ladies at Antoine’s. I couldn’t be seen at a Waffle House, even if they did make amazing waffles and hash browns.

“Where’d you stay last night?” I asked, wiping a suspicious looking smear near my water glass.

“The Hilton.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was pleasant enough.” He squirted a swirl of ketchup on top of his hash browns. “How’s your head?”

“Better,” I took a large gulp of water and tried to ignore the toddler kicking the back of my seat. “One vodka cranberry too many, you know?”

He raised his eyebrows and set down his fork. “I figured. You always drink when you’re upset.”

“When I’m upset, happy, bored. Pretty much whenever. But we don’t have to worry about that anymore, you know. I guess I get to be immune from things like liver damage.”

Image courtesy Joshua Heller via Flickr

Image courtesy Joshua Heller via Flickr

Evan cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Yeah, about that.” He looked to either side and then back at me. “That’s what I need to talk about.”

My mouth full of waffle, I nodded for him to continue.

Still leaning forward, he whispered, “I don’t want you to be mad, but I had you followed. You were acting weird and I became suspicious.”

“What?” I said as nastily as I could. I was annoyed, even angry, but honestly I’d done the same thing to him. He was acting weird, like he did when he was cheating, so I sent someone to make sure he wasn’t doing it again. He wasn’t. This was a couple of months ago and he was still acting weird. I stirred my coffee, letting the spoon clang loudly against the mug. “Please… continue.”

Image courtesy Sam Howzit via Flickr.

Image courtesy Sam Howzit via Flickr.

“I’m sorry. I just had to know what was going on and, well, now we have another problem.”

The spoon slipped from my hand. “Oh god, Evan. What have you done?”

“The lady. The one who followed you. She knows. And now she’s threatening me. She wants you to turn her or she said she’d go public. She saw you feed on at least three people.”

My heart began to race. I took a deep breath and pushed my plate away. “Well that’s just great. Way to make things way worse, Evan.”  I grabbed my purse and started sliding out of the booth.

“Wait. There’s one more thing.” Evan looked down at his plate. He pushed the remaining hash browns in and out of a puddle of egg yolk. “I’m going to lose my job. That’s why I’ve been gone so much. I’ve been trying to get interviews anywhere I can. My list of connections is almost exhausted.” He lifted his gaze and reached out his hand. “Libby, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Now my heart was really racing. I pulled my hand away and stood up. “Evan, I have to go deal with the first mess you created. I assume you’ll be staying at home tonight. The Hilton can be expensive when you don’t have a job.”

He nodded and began to talk, but I turned and stormed out. Dealing with this lady should be easy. At least with Nerdo Vamp’s help. The thought of not having money–that was making me sick.

**Why not start the series from the beginning? Click here to read about Libby’s first day as a vampire**

What Type of Traveler are You?

Hey everyone,

As you may have noticed I’ve slacked on my Less Wordy Wednesday posts, so I thought this was a good opportunity to welcome my cousin, Lindsay, to the WordPress community by reblogging her awesome post on traveling and what type of traveler you are.

I would say I’m a chameleon, with tendencies toward explorer and intellectual.

She also exposes my weakness toward chatting during football… So, check it out everyone! Thanks!

Lindsay Cummings Writes

Last Sunday, like every Sunday, my cousin and I sat pretending to watch football while our husbands actually did. I love these days because my cousin and I spend the entire game talking about writing, books, traveling, anything that moves us. We are so much alike in our views, likes and dislikes that the conversation doesn’t stop for the entirety of the game(s).

Our constant chatter of course drives our husbands crazy and in retaliation they tease us. Usually by telling us we should leave to go on a walk, to get coffee or to go “craft something”. I know this may sound mean but somehow we just always laugh, smile and keep talking. We know they are teasing because every Sunday they beg us to come with them and against our better judgment, we do. Inevitably they pick on us. We must like the abuse and they must enjoy…

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The Sunshine Award

sunshine-awardTime to celebrate! Geanie from the The Library Lady and Rosie Bear has nominated me for the Sunshine Award. This is a new award for me, so I’m super excited. And I love that it has sunshine in the name, because as most of you know I’m always cold, and now I have some extra sunshine to keep me warm 🙂 Thanks Geanie!

To accept the award I must list 10 things about myself and then nominate other bloggers for the award.

First, my 10 things…

1. After college, I volunteered at the Denver Zoo. I chose to work with hoofstock which involved a lot of pooper scooping and hay hauling. It was probably the most physically exhausting work I’ve done, but I was able to eat like a football player (or teenage boy) and not gain a pound! And I got to know some overly friendly camels and hand feed a rhino.

2. One of my favorite things to do in the summer is take a trip to Water World, one of the top water parks in the country. This also burns a lot of calories because to go on any rides you have to haul yourself, and sometimes a large inner tube, up a mountain… fine a hill. And I really love the Voyage to the Center of the Earth ride. You and two of your closest friends get to slip and slide into a time of dinosaurs and watery thrills, with an animated Tyrannosaurus Rex and Brachiosaurus to greet you along the way.

3. I remember the first time I heard the song, American Pie. I was twelve (I think) and visiting family in Florida. We were staying in a Disney campground and one of the restaurants had live music. One night, the band played a cover of the song. Somehow I will remember that always. Random, huh?

4. For Halloween this year, my husband and I dressed as a clown and harlequin from a dark/night circus.

Costume

We don’t have great pics, but here is one of me.

Logan costume

And my hubby as a creepy clown. His hat has kind of a steampunk vibe to it. He’s with my cousin who’s dressed as a very lovely flamenco dancer.

5. The first (and only) time I was published in the Denver newspaper was when I was elementary school. Our assignment was to describe what we would make our Mothers for breakfast on Mother’s Day and why. My culinary skills not being the greatest at the time, I think she may have gotten toast…

6. When the song, Ice Ice Baby, came out by Vanilla Ice I memorized every word. And I still know it. The whole thing. Don’t get me started…

7. Some of my favorite scary movies are: Poltergeist, The Shining and Pet Sematary. Zelda is by far the scariest character in that movie.

8. In college, I thought it would be a good idea to take my roommate’s bunny outside to play. To be sure Buster didn’t get away, I got him a leash and tried to walk him around the yard. We didn’t get very far. Eventually we ditched the leash and just let him hop around the yard.

9. I like to craft. And sometimes I like to make my loved ones craft with me. We made these on Thanksgiving one year:

Turkey coasters

He he. It’s okay to laugh. They’re turkey coasters. It’s funny how they all turned out differently. My husband’s is the one with feet. My mom’s looks like it’s sporting the Canadian flag. Mine has the straight feathers and my cousin’s has the feathers that look like leaves. And yes, they really work as coasters.

10. In high school I got roped into participating in the Denver Parade of Lights, a holiday parade held in December. I was dressed as a piece of candy and had to carry this REALLY heavy sign. And it was cold.

And now, the other blogs I nominate for the award: 

M. C. Dulac

Bre Faucheux

What Comes Next

How Do You Pronounce Eynon

Writer’s Cramp

b00kreader

Random Blog

Elaine Canham

Wake Up Your Luck

Okay, so here are the rules: 

1. Use the Sunshine Award logo in the post.
2. Link to whoever nominated you.
3. Write ten pieces of information about yourself.
4. Nominate up to ten fellow bloggers, “who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere”.
5. Leave a comment on the nominees’ blogs to tell them of the award

Thanks and have fun!

Libby’s Post – At least I got my pirate

Halloween candy

Image courtesy Luke Jones via Flickr

So, I woke up this morning with a hangover. Yep, a vampire hangover.

The day began like any other Halloween. I had plenty of candy for the kids. My yard was decorated with a couple of uncarved pumpkins and a sign that said, ‘boo’ on the door. It was a step up from last year and I didn’t want to call attention to myself, you know.

After the last of the rug rats came by, I planned to head to the bar down the street. They have a costume contest every year.

And that’s where I was stuck. What was I going to be? A vampire is a total cop out. It’s like when a doctor or a nurse dresses as a doctor or a nurse. Seriously, the point is to be something you’re not. Then there’s the slayer option. I’d make an awesome Buffy Summers, but I had a feeling plenty of vamps had already been there, done that.

I strolled the makeshift aisles of the Halloween store. Some of the costumes were immediately placed in the ‘no’ category. A wicked witch costume? Not enough leg. A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? I didn’t even know an adult woman would dress as such a thing.

And I ruled out anything with face makeup. All of that greasy, comedogenic crap on your face. No thank you.

Halloween Store

Image courtesy Kimco Realty via Flickr

My eyes went from package to package, really just looking for the word sexy. Anything can be made sexy nowadays. I’m pretty sure I once saw a sexy lobster costume.

I settled on a sexy mermaid. I guess I wanted to see how well I could walk dressed as a fish. And I thought it would be quite the sight. A vampire mermaid feeding off Batman or a pirate. Yes, I would have to find a pirate to feed on.

I was beginning to get in the spirit, so I quickly took a drink from one of the clerks behind the store. Don’t worry. She’ll be all right. I left her with plenty of blood and a couple of no nonsense fashion tips.

It was around 5:00 p.m. when I heard my front door open. I ran, well shimmied, downstairs and there was Evan, home early.

“Nice costume,” he said, dropping his bag with a thud.

“Oh thanks, I’m a mermaid.” I gave him a hug that hardly felt reciprocated.

“Really? I thought you were a vampire.” He pulled away and gave a small smile.

I adjusted my seashells. “Oh, right. I’ve always loved your sarcasm.”

He sat on the couch and folded his hands in his lap. “Guess what, my dear Libby. We’re having a party. Tonight.”

“Uh, what?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already invited everyone. Some co-workers, some friends. I went through your phone contacts to make sure I got everyone.”

“My phone contacts?” Crap. Why was I stupid enough to have Nerdo Vamp and Brian in there?

Garlic cloves

Image courtesy Crispin Semmens via Flickr

He pointed to his bag sitting by the door. “I even got some chips and dip. It’s garlic. Everyone loves garlic.” He looked at his watch and then back at me. “People should be arriving any minute.”

I began to freak out. I tried to protest, make excuses. Evan just kept saying something along the lines of: “Well, Libby, is there a reason we can’t have a party? Is there something you need to tell me? You better say something before everyone gets here.”

My brain scrambled to come up with something. I was usually a great liar.

Then the doorbell rang. It was Zed. Zed from the Yoga Spot dressed as a marijuana leaf.

Evan ran to the door and greeted the leaf. “The wine goes in the kitchen,” he said.

“Uh, okay.” Zed slipped through the door and started toward the kitchen. “Bummer, am I the first one here?”

“Yep,” I said, giving Evan the nastiest look I could.

Zed came back into the living room looking confused. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise party.”

“Well it still is.” I took Zed’s arm. “I’m surprised. Come on. Let’s get you a glass of wine.”

The doorbell rang again and I hoped it was one of Evan’s friends. Or not. I wasn’t sure what to hope for.

I peeked around the corner. Now Nerdo Vamp, Brian and Mr. Brown Eyes were all standing at the door. That’s when I knew Evan knew. He was on his third attempt at inviting them in, without actually inviting them in.

“Please come in,” I yelled from the kitchen.

Nerdo Vamp rounded the corner and whispered in my ear.

I replied under my breath, “He knows.”

“Knows what?” Evan said loudly. “That you’ve been talking to animals and having an affair with this vampire?” He pointed at Brian.

The room went silent. Zed was the first to speak up. “Dude. He’s not a vampire. He’s like a zombie or something.”

“Goblin,” Brian corrected him.

Nerdo Vamp cleared his throat. “Well, everyone, it seems Libby and her husband have some personal matters to attend to.” He took Zed and led him out of the kitchen. “We should give them some privacy, don’t you think?”

Brian squeezed my arm on the way out and whispered, “Call me.”

So then Evan and I had the talk. At first he seemed to take it okay, but then the truth finally settled in. It’s one thing to think you know something and another for it to be confirmed. He left around 10:30. Said he needed time to think and be alone.

He left still believing I was having an affair. Probably because he was once a cheater. It’s hard when you’ve broken someone’s trust. You end up certain they’ll do the same to you.

Pirate

Image courtesy Frank Kovalchek via Flickr

So, I went to the bar and had a few drinks. I didn’t call Brian. I drank alone. After a sexy alligator won the costume contest, I went outside and fed on my pirate. He was tasty, but almost too intoxicated to hold himself upright. I left him next to the dumpster and walked home, stumbling over my fishtail.

There was a note taped to the front door. It was from Evan. I put it on the coffee table and went to bed.

And now that I’ve taken my ibuprofen and forced like a gallon of water down my throat, I’m ready to read it. It said that he had a secret too. He was going to tell me last night, but lost the courage. He wanted to meet at the Waffle House at 1:00 p.m. How considerate. He must have known I’d be too hung over to meet any earlier.  And I do love waffles.

**Why not start the series from the beginning? Click here to read about Libby’s first day as a vampire**