Not Another Vampire Story
By Sakurapu
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About this ebook
He was mouth-wateringly handsome and suave, sweet and thoughtful, every bit perfect with dark hair and grinning eyes -- but none of it fooled eighth-grade Sylvia. It didn't take a pint of blood for her to know that her sister Julia's new boyfriend Terry was a vampire...
Of course, a trail of sparkling would have helped, but there was none. Full sunlight, garlic bread and functional in all the usual boyfriend-material capacities, it was difficult to detect at first, but yes, Terry was a vampire.
Sylvia knew Julia was in deep trouble. Worse yet, Julia didn't seem to mind.
Reviewed by Kathryn Bennett for Readers' Favorite: 4 Stars
"...engaging, witty, and not afraid to poke a little fun here and there at its own genre..."
New Year Book Review 2014: ". . . just what readers need in the wake of so much vampire fiction. Sakurapu . . . presents an anti-vampire story, one that will entertain readers of all ages. Quick dialog and punchy characters are the essence of this novel that pokes fun at the genre without totally letting go of it."
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Not Another Vampire Story Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsYear of the Vampire Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsNot Another Vampire Story: OpenDyslexic Mono Version Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Not Another Vampire Story - Sakurapu
Table of Contents
Chapter One Two Weeks and Counting
Chapter Two: Stripping by the Pool
Chapter Three: Starting Again
Chapter Four: Farewell to Summer
Chapter Five: No Visuals, Please
Chapter Six: Unlike a Vampire
Chapter Seven: Day at the Beach
Chapter Eight: Generation Slack & Coming Clean
Chapter Nine: Ride with Valtieri
Chapter Ten: Man in Uniform
Chapter Eleven: Elocution & a Little B&E
Chapter Twelve: Matt to the . . . Rescue
Chapter Thirteen: What Sylvia Saw
Chapter Fourteen: Friendly Denial
Chapter Fifteen: Sylvi and the Vampire
Chapter One: Two Weeks and Counting
Sylvia turned the first page in her new manga and sighed. Only two weeks until school started. She wasn’t ready for summer break to be over. And she certainly wasn’t ready for eighth grade.
At least she had all her core classes with Holly. It would totally suck not to.
She anchored the graphic novel with one elbow and used both hands to tighten her hair tie, then flipped her ponytail of strawberry blonde hair out her face before it got caught in her bubblegum.
Once school started she’d have to start matching her clothes again, wearing socks and shoes, and make sure her hair was combed.
Get your wet swimsuit off the carpet!
Julia screeched.
The foot in Sylvia’s side was more than a nudge, but not quite a kick. Sylvia looked up – way up – at her older sister’s irate face. Usually the face was nice to look at; all blonde hair like a halo around her sister Julia, stunning blue eyes with perfect mascara, topping a faultless figure not suffering too much for the lack of top-notch fashion.
Sylvia sat up on the living room floor, careful not to get her book wet, and rearranged her beach towel better under her soggy bottom. She’d never look like Julia at seventeen-years-old. Not in a million years.
Mom says you’re wearing a bra this year to school,
Julia said when she caught her younger sister’s blunt stare at her t-shirt. She smiled in satisfaction at Sylvia’s grimace.
I don’t need one. How will it stay down? I’ve got nothing to put in it!
Sylvia leaned against the sofa behind her.
Just a training bra, Sylvi.
Julia touched her hair, glimpsing herself in the oval mirror by the living room door.
I don’t have anything to train.
Julia applied a pink lipstick to her lips, making a test pucker. I don’t understand your infatuation with those comic books.
They’re graphic novels, and they are the art form in Japan.
Julia wiped a small extra bit of color from her lips. Whatever. Where’s the point in reading –
she focused in the mirror at the manga in Sylvia’s hands, "– Girl Got Game? And it’s not just the books. The music, too. You’d think you were going to grow up and be Japanese or something."
Sylvia blew a bubble and the oscillating pedestal fan blew her hair into it as it popped. She wiped her hair away with her hand, which jerked the gum clear out of her mouth.
Julia shook her head. Serves you right, gum-head.
Sylvia set the book down and gave her attention to the hair now matted with dull pink watermelon gum that had long ago lost its flavor. The more she fingered the gooey mess, the worse it got.
Get the scissors and I’ll cut it out.
Julia looked out the narrow window by the door. Hurry up.
I’ll do it myself.
Sylvia frowned, cross-eyed, at the sticky glopped-up hair hanging near her face.
Julia made a final check of her reflection. My date’s here. Behave yourself. Mom will be home at eight.
"You behave yourself, Sylvia returned, rising to her knees to see what she could of her sister’s new boyfriend through the narrow window. Not much to see; just the top of dark hair of someone standing by the curb. She assumed there was a car nearby, out of sight.
Another one bites the dust."
Julia gave her a mocking look. He is absolutely gorgeous, I’ll have you know.
That’s why you’re so anxious to show him off to us?
Sylvia grinned.
Julia grabbed her purse from the chair, throwing a look to her sister. Oh, by the way, your package came—three hours ago. KAT-TUN, is it?
Sylvia made a face of horror. You’re just telling me now?
Julia stepped out. Bye!
Sylvia threw a pillow from the sofa at the closing door.
She got up and found the package on the phone stand in the kitchen, under a stack of mail for her mom. She dug through this and held the mailer up, smiling. KAT-TUN’s latest CD. She found the scissors from a kitchen drawer and carefully opened the package, and then with even more caution snipped the gum dangling from her hair.
She smiled at the photo on the CD cover. She gave her favorite member of the Jpop group a soft kiss. Ahh. Junno...
Chapter Two: Stripping by the Pool
Holly had some of the frills Sylvia didn’t. While Sylvia’s blonde hair had a reddish cast that bounced out of control unless tamed by a tight ponytail, Holly’s half African-American descent gave her dark hair a texture that yielded well to the relaxer her mother used on it. Since summer had begun and Sylvia started hanging out at her mother’s boyfriend’s pool, her skin was nearly as dark as Holly’s light brown tint.
Holly had at first stood out in their small elementary school’s fifth grade in central Ohio, but after she started middle school – and Jamie Goddard had called her chocolate milk, ‘the delicious kind’ – she’d got over the stigma. It didn’t hurt that Jamie Goddard was one of the better-looking boys in sixth grade at the time, and still was last year in seventh, or that he was constantly giving her little nudges in math class and always finagled his way into being her partner in science class. He’d shortened her nickname to simply Chocolate.
Sometimes Sylvia thought no one at school wanted a glass of white milk with big reddish hair and blue eyes.
I don’t know how you don’t see it,
Holly said as they lounged at the pool in the backyard of Brian’s house the next afternoon. Being friends with Sylvia had its perks, and one was the rich boyfriend her mom had. Pools, pizza parties, big screen television – all of it – and in one of the newer ranch-style houses in one of the nicer subdivisions.
"I think Junno is so much sweeter. He is so underestimated." Sylvia bent her knees and sat back in the lounge chair by the crystal blue in-ground pool waters, the warm late August sun hot on her skin. To their side a CD player rested on the patio table, sheltered from the sun by a mock palm tree umbrella that covered a three-foot circle, Obachan Rock coming from its speakers. Two glasses of soda were warming in the day’s heat despite the moderate palm shading.
You weren’t saying that when he was blond and had the blue contacts in.
She smiled at Sylvia’s frown.
I don’t want to think about those months.
Holly sighed, adjusting her yellow two-piece swimsuit bottom where a wedgie was creeping up. Nishikido Ryo is perfect. You’ll see it soon.
Oh, he’s hot, but Junno is my first choice.
Humph. Ryo is in two bands; Kanjani8 and News. That should tell you something, girl.
Sylvia stood up and twisted to look at the back of her legs. She groaned, running a hand over her teal blue bikini bottom. The backs of her thighs had big sweaty red spots where she’d been sitting for half an hour in the chair. Is there any way to sit that won’t leave red marks?
Don’t think so. You could stand on your head.
Sylvia waved her off. I’m going in to get my CD. My turn.
Holly sighed, listening to the Kanjani8 song play out as Sylvia disappeared into the house.
Sylvia slid the glass door that led from the deck of Brian’s yard into his house. The central air system wasn’t on – one of Brian’s few rules – and the climate inside was warm, but not uncomfortable. The kitchen was to the right, a rec room to the left. A strange layout for a house, Sylvia thought, but her mom said the rec room was probably supposed to be something else, like a dining room, but since Brian didn’t really dine it was more of an informal hang-out room. Two sofas, the smaller of the big screen TVs, and a few upholstered chairs were arranged there.
In one of these now was Julia, sitting in her sleek black bikini, gold accents emphasizing all her charm points, as their mom would call them, with one heel on the chair’s edge as she painted her toenails.
Terry’s coming over, so don’t be your usual self.
Julia blew on the muted pink nail polish. Be a girl, okay?
Hi, Silly.
It came from the corner, followed by a squawk and flutter of feathers.
Sylvia looked to the white cockatiel. It’s Sylvi, you bird-brain.
I’m telling,
the bird chirped. It stepped from foot to foot on its T-bar perch, tether swinging.
Don’t,
Julia warned as Sylvia approached the bird with one hand raised. Leave Blanche alone.
Sylvia scowled at the bird. One good flap of anyone’s arm and Blanche would forget her tether, attempt to fly off the perch, and end up dangling by one foot until she could beak-claw her way back to the top.
Who names a bird Blanche? She can’t even say her own name. It’s just vulgar.
Sylvia put on her sweetest smile and stepped closer to the bird. "Say I’m a Blanche."
Don’t make her.
Julia studied her toes, satisfied. "It’s supposed