The Mammoth Book Of Vampire Stories Written By Women

"Now that I'm a mother," Vonda said, as though she were talking about the weather, "I'm not going to work here any more. We can get by without what I make, and Phoebe needs me. She's just lost her mother."

Bereft, I managed to ask, "When are you leaving?"

"Today's my last day. You're my last client."

I could not let this happen. Vonda was a young, vital woman with plenty more to give. Carefully, raising myself on one elbow, I said, "I'll miss you."

"Thanks. I'll miss this place, too. Sort of."

"I hope we can keep in touch."

There was a pause, and I expected either no acknowledgment of my overture or one of those responses like "we'll have to get together sometime" designed to be rejecting without quite admitting it. In either case, I'd have pressed. But, to my pleasant surprise, I didn't need to. Vonda looked up at me almost shyly and said, "I hope you mean it, Madyson. I'd like that."

Heart pounding, I suggested, "Let's have lunch. Tomorrow. There's this great little place I know. Charon's. Let's meet there."

"Great." Vonda nodded happily. "I'll see if the day care can keep Phoebe another half day."

"No!" She raised her eyebrows at my vehemence, and I hastened to moderate it. To control and conceal how much I needed to touch that little girl, to cradle and kiss her, to stroke her baby skin and hold her against my heart and infuse myself with all that raw new energy. "No," I repeated, with great effort calming my demeanour. "I'd really love to see her. Please. Bring her along."

Forever, Amen

Elizabeth Massie

Two-time Bram Stoker Award winner and World Fantasy Award finalist Elizabeth Massie is the author of numerous horror short stories and books. Her most recent novels include Welcome Back to the Night, Dark Shadows: Dreams of the Dark (co-authored with Stephen Mark Rainey) and Wire Mesh Mothers. A collection of the author's short fiction , Shadow Dreams, was recently released .

For young adult readers she is also the author of the Daughters of Liberty trilogy, the Young Founders series , The Great Chicago Fire: 1871, Maryland: Ghost Harbor, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Power of Persuasion. Her teleplay , Rhymes and Reasons, was the recipient of a 1990 Parents' Choice Award .

"In creating 'Forever, Amen,' I considered immortality blessing or curse? and its various manifestations," says Massie. "Vampirism, reincarnation, time travel. The appeal of living for ever is darkened when the future is discovered to be no better than the present or the past, when progress is only technical and not humanitarian, and civil people pound their chests and boast of their foul-smelling goodness. Where is one to go then? Where is one to run?"

Then Pilate went out to the people and saith unto them, Behold, I have found no fault with this man. The chief priests and officers cried out, Crucify him!

Pilate held forth his hand towards Jesus, who bore a crown of thorns and purple robe, and saith, I may release to thee a man on this day of feasting. Whom will ye that I release, the man Barabbas or this man Jesus?

And the crowd cried, Give us Barabbas! Jesus must die!

When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing to save the man Jesus and that Jesus was indeed to die to please the crowd, he offered the execution of noble captives, to have the man's wrists slashed with sword and thus causing him to bleed quickly unto death. But from the crowd called up the man Andrew, son of Phinneas the shepherd, who said, Jesus must suffer for his words! Crucify Him! The crowd joined in the mocking call, He must suffer for his words!

Then Pilate went from the crowd and washed his hands, and turned Jesus to the officers and soldiers, who gave unto Him a cross and bearing such went all unto the place of the skull which is called Golgotha:

Where they crucified Him, and two others on either side with Jesus in the midst.

Book of Trials, 7:23-8

Danielle stood against the rough wall, her red eyes turned furiously towards the shrouded figure on the gurney. Marie and Clarice were gone, spun away with dour exasperation and vanished through the small ceiling-high window of the cellar. Their words still echoed in the room like late-season flies caught in a bottle.

Marie: "He is not Alexandre. He is nothing. He is less than nothing."

Clarice: "It's done. Come with us. Sister, take my hand. It stinks in here."

Marie: "Look if you must, but be done with it, and then come."

Danielle had pressed her gloved hands to her ears and shook her head. No .

Marie: a sharp snapping of the fingers as if Danielle were a dog to obey her mistress, and Danielle had simply said, "Leave me be." Marie and Clarice had done just that. They thought their companion mad, not a good thing for a creature of the night. Madness could only lead to foolishness and carelessness, and with carelessness, destruction. They had left their mad friend to her own fate.