Dracula Junior's Diary: How I've Got Impaled During My Holiday in Transylvania

By Nana Pitz

Dracula’s great-great-great-grandson was born in California, in a family of Romanian immigrants. He is 14 years old, is rich, handsome, but... special. In addition, he wants to spend his holiday on his ancestors’ lands. What did he find out when he came closer to Dracula's castle? On a thousand spikes that you will not guess! Transylvania, Dracula, facebook, twitter, Fomila, Sfarma Piatra and Justin Bieber, in a totally crazy story!

Here is the next global blockbuster! Read the book, don’t wait anymore for the movie! (Audia Publishers)

Until now, I’ve had a normal childhood. Fine… If normal means having three nannies, a 7,000 square meter villa, a pool, a butler, a limo, private tutors…

I read weird things, one of them would be that my dad is from Romania, that he impaled people and drank their blood and other horrible things like these…

Sometimes, I search “Dracula” and I have to admit that people’s imagination is disappointing. I mean sharp ears, hair full of a lot of gel, sharp teeth… really?

...Tomorrow, I’m going to Romania, for a holiday in Transylvania, where father says that my special, extra-human powers will be activated. Yeah, some beautiful 14-year anniversary, what can I say!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Integral
• Release date: Jan 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9786068782003

Book preview

D Jr. Twit@ Just had a serious discussion with my dad. Occurred!"

Current mood: #No Porsche

Ok, ok, I’m Dracula’s son, no big deal. Really!

And my name is, thanks to my dad’s great imagination, Dracula Junior. But I prefer to be called DJ. It sounds more… human.

I’m thirteen years old and, until now, I’ve had a normal childhood. Fine… If normal means having three nannies, a 7,000 square meter villa, a pool, a butler, a limo, private tutors, and at least a weekly appearance on the red carpet. To be honest, I don’t have where to know from what normal is because here, where I live, everyone lives like this.

By the way, I was born and raised in Hollywood, in Los Angeles, Angel’s city, where, in a strangely enough manner, I’ve never seen any angel wing.

I… don’t attend a normal school, I have tutors that come over, but I can’t say I like all the subjects. I mean, I like literature and sciences a lot and, maybe, arts too. Anyway, my dream is to become a scenarist, maybe a director too, so, let’s say scenarist-director, and this is the reason I’m writing this journal for. Dad says that, in this field, the best ideas come from reality, so now I’m writing everything that’s happening to me here.

Kind of weird, right?!

Dad also tells me that I should have a lot of friends. Pffff! Not only that I do have, but also they are a lot – about 100 on Twitter and 250 on FB. I’m not talking about Google+ and the rest.

Look, this is my room. It’s not very big as compared to the rest of the house, it’s only 300 square meters, but, at least, I can fit all my gadgets, which, I admit, I am very fond of. Come on; think of the best gadget that recently came up! …Yep, I have it! I’m not obsessed or something, but I really like to play with all these fantastic things. Some are magical, I swear!

O, yeah, and I also have a bed in my room, a fifteen square meter dressing, with all the clothes I don’t really care about – they’re mostly jeans, t-shirts or shirts, leather jacket and boots. Fashion doesn’t really interest me at all. On the other hand, in the dressing’s corner, I have a secret hiding place… where I keep my special shoes.

Ok, maybe it’s time that I reveal a little secret about me too, keeping in mind, I hope, that no one else will read these scribbles, at least not without my permission: I like to dance step! I know, it’s a girls-with-pink-tutus dance, super old, but I like it. I learned it by myself, from YouTube! That’s where I also learned how to make pancakes. What’s the problem? Even if I live in Hollywood, the center of the Universe, I still get bored pretty often.

I read weird things, one of them would be that my dad, I call him Daddy D, is from Romania, that he impaled people and drank their blood and other horrible things like these…

Yeah, I’m not very impressed.

From what I know, dad lived for about all his life in Hollywood; he played in a bunch of films and has been married… to mum for, like, Forever. Yep, my dad’s an actor, a pretty famous one, I’d say. Ok, think of an actor you’ve known for a long time, and that he has been looking the same since the first day!

Clue: no, it’s not about Tom Cruise!

Anyway, I’m not telling you, not for any other reason, but he’s not the only one here with a congenital Malformation, as mum likes to pamper him, you know, him being from Transylvania and everything else. I’ll give you another clue: he launched the sunglasses’ fashion in Hollywood, you know, because of his light-sensitive eyes.

Sometimes, I search Dracula and I have to admit that people’s imagination is disappointing. I mean sharp ears, hair full of a lot of gel, sharp teeth… really? I don’t look anything like that, even though daddy tells me I’m too young, that I have to wait longer, but even he doesn’t look like that either.

Mum is, in her turn, a normal woman. Fine, I repeat, if normal means the same for the whole world, having twenty-seven plastic surgeries, including on the pinkie toe, or dying your hair another color every month. Every time I spot an obvious change on her, mum laughs and tells me that I am sharp-eyed. Not for any other reason, but dad never remarks such things. Not even when mum came home with a blue mane! Even then, dad told her, during dinner, Dear, today you look ravishing, what’ve you done, did you do your makeup differently or…?

Really, dad, really?!!!

The idea is, out of boredom, mum comes up with all kinds of ideas, like start eating bio food, whatever that means, this being the reason why a red-feathered chicken made a nest on my thousand-dollar monitor. I just hope it won’t leave any droppings, like last week, and ruin my soundboard again! Go away, dinosaur-related creature, you know, those birds are some kind of dinosaur descendants; whatever, I hope it’ll understand that it needs to keep its shrunk T Rex claws away from my gadgets.

I told mum this too, during dinner, where our grey-haired butler serves us, but she doesn’t seem to care about the chicken – technology game:

Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about the chickens, they won’t lay eggs, she tells me, as she’s nibbling some green peas, seaweed or something. Besides, if they’re such a problem for you, I’ll tell the cleaning lady to put them diapers on. You know, you wore them too when you were young and you were doing great in them!

Em-ba-ra-ssing!

But, mum, wouldn’t it be easier to keep them outside, in the park or on the tennis court, on the football court or anywhere else, away from my room?

DJ, you heard your mother, dad interferes too, he, who keeps studying a yellow piece of paper with burnt edges: Eat up and stop arguing!

"What? I wasn’t even talking about this! Mum, tell him!

Dad doesn’t care about this food for normal people, anyway. No, he doesn’t drink blood; he orders some protein pills that astronauts consume in space and puts this ‘candy’ between his teeth from time to time. Crunch, crunch, lunch’s over!

DJ, when you finish eating, I’ll wait for you in my office, dad seriously says, and then he passes his pale fingers through my hair and quickly leaves the living. I look at mum, who’s looking back at me expressionless, actually I think it’s because of the Botox she’s injected today, and it has practically paralyzed her face muscles.

I look at my plate, and I see a gigantic lamb roast; I don’t think I can finish it even if I struggle for a day, so, when mum isn’t watching, the hunk of meat flies right on the candelabra on top of the table, oops, what a stupid accident!

Mum, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to talk to dad into his office!

Ok, honey, I’ve been just talking on the phone, you know, I’ve implanted a chip in my wisdom tooth, and now all I have to do is go over it with my tongue and I can call whoever I want to…