My Teacher is a Vampire: Supernatural Learning Book 3: Supernatural Learning, #3

By J.R. Murdock

Surely, Stanely's summer-school teacher would be normal, right?

It would seem he wouldn't get a break from the supernatural even during summer.

Instead, Stanley and his friends need to investigate what they caught overnight on their camera and determine if it's a threat or not. He and his friends are on the hunt once more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.R. Murdock
• Release date: Oct 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201902209

Book preview

My Teacher is a Vampire

by J.R. Murdock

THIS IS A work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by J.R. Murdock

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Further information may be requested by contacting J.R. Murdock directly at [e-mail]

http://jrmurdock.com

Also by J.R. Murdock

Stowaway: V&A Shipping Book 1

Hollow: V&A Shipping Book 2

Orphan: Giant Robot Planetary Competition Book 1

Villain: Giant Robot Planetary Competition Book 2

Escape: Almost-Super Heroes Book 1

Flight: Almost-Super Heroes Book 2

Westward, Ho!: Golden West Book 1

Deep Mining: Golden West Book 2

Showdown: Golden West Book 3

Billy the Protector: Billy Barbarian Book 1

Chosen: Princess Astel Trilogy Book 1

My Teacher is a Zombie: Supernatural Learning Book 1

My Teacher is a Werewolf: Supernatural Learning Book 2

My Teacher is a Vampire: Supernatural Learning Book 3

Murdockian Tales: A Short Story Collection

Paradise Palms: A Murder Mystery in a Time-Traveling Trailer Park

Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty

Jack Kane and the Kaiser

CHAPTER 1

NOW REMEMBER, SWING your arm faster, not harder. It's not about how much power you try to put into the ball with your arm, it all comes from your core. Right-hand swings fast to hit the ball, left hand comes down across the body and tightens your abs. The coach demonstrated the proper swing slowly.

The coach was a good foot-and-a-half taller than Stanley and had been playing or coaching volleyball for longer than Stanley had been alive. He made everything look so simple from serving, to spiking, to jumping and blocking the ball. It was fun to watch; difficult to emulate.

Stanley, standing on an eighteen-inch high box, watched the ball rise into the air and tried to do exactly as the coach had instructed. Even after four years of playing club volleyball, there was still so much to learn. When he watched the coach it looked as if the ball hovered in air just waiting to be hit. This time, with the ball coming down toward his head, Stanley closed his eyes and swung.

Come on Kodluboy! You can't hit a ball unless you're looking at it. The coach threw another ball into the air.

He held his breath and swung again, this time keeping his eyes on the ball. It wasn't his best hit, but he made good contact with the ball.

Better. Okay, move the box out of the way, and let's work on your approach.

Stanley, after moving the box, looked at the clock. He still had a few minutes left to go in his private lesson. Bert should be there any moment to pick him up so they could head down and buy some comics. He tried to will the clock to go faster, but it did no good.

Alright, now remember, big step, pause and spot the ball, then two steps, jump, swing. Got it?

Stanley nodded. He would jump and most likely miss the ball, get yelled at, and do it all over again.

Once Stanley was in position, the coach slapped the ball and tossed it into the air. Stanley took one big step, looked up and it seemed like the ball was falling too fast. He rushed his approach, jumped, swung, and somehow hit the ball. It went long, but he'd hit it over the net.

Good, get set.

They repeated the process several more times. Once, he jumped, barely hitting the ball, causing it to roll down the net and fall to his feet. He heard a giggle. By the door to the gym Bert and his younger sister, Zita, stood there waiting. It was her giggling. Bert just stood with his hands in his pockets with a smile on his face. Great, an audience. That's all he needed right now.

He had to focus and fortunately, the rest of his lesson went well. He hit a couple of good cross-court shots and Zita applauded on one of them

Alright, get out of here, Kodluboy. Bell, you're up. Let's go.

Tommy Bell, the best middle on the team and five inches taller than Stanley, jogged over from the other court where he'd already been stretching. He held out a hand to give Stanley five. Nice hits. We're going to need some of those in a couple of weeks.

Have a good practice. Stanley didn't want to think about the upcoming tournament right then. He was sore, tired, and in desperate need of a comic book or two.

Hey, guys. Where's your mom? Stanley asked.

We're on our bikes. Mom had to go to the store. You brought your bike, right?

Yeah, my mom had to work. Stanley drained his water bottle and picked up his bag. One of these times he'd have to remember to bring a towel for after practice. It was getting too hot in the gym now that it was mid-June. He just didn't want to have to drag anything else along with him when he was on his bike. At least his water bottles were empty now. He deposited those in the recycle bin and they all left.

So what's in this week? Stanley asked.

Dude, didn't you even look?

Like I've had time. Between private lessons, regular practice, homework...

Bert pulled on his handlebars to try and pop a wheelie but failed. You're taking summer school again? I thought you passed all your classes. You went through the progression ceremony.

I did. My mom has me taking these classes to prepare for high school. There's homework, but no tests or anything. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so late. Stanley, riding in between Bert and