I’ll get back to my ghost story soon, but I was asked recently about the bounty on my head. I’ve been wanted dead or alive since the day I was born. I can’t remember if I ever explained that little tidbit here and I’m too bone-tired tonight to look back and check.

Basically, my family is powerful. Extremely powerful on both sides, as it has been for generations going back as far as who the hell knows. Mom is descended from a long, long line of witches. Her family survived everything from the publishing of Malleus maleficarum to the Salem Witch trials. There’s an ancient, beautifully bound set of books that mom keeps tucked away that she tells me is the entire history of our family. Apparently, I’m not allowed to read it until I get married which I think is odd but I do not question.

Anyway, my father’s family history is as long and powerful as mom’s. The son of a son of a son etc.  In all the time, all that history, however, no necromancer ever married a witch. There used to be law against it. I don’t mean a legal law, but a law in the Shadow world (magical world) was just as binding. For ages it was written that to intermingle among different strains of otherwordly powers was forbidden. I guess they felt that n family should have access to so much power - power does traditionally corrupt and all that.

But my parents defied that law when they fell in love. Both families did everything they could to keep Charlotte Masters and Desmond McGee apart. It was very Romeo and Juliet, so I’m told But true love prevailed and all that mushy stuff and they married in secret - and the world didn’t end. So they were left in peace. Until they had me, that is.

When I was born I became a hot ticket on the black market. My blood was wanted for powerful rituals or the hair from my head was required to complete some spell of power and riches. It depended on the witch or wizard’s needs. They could kill me as a sacrifice or keep me in chains somewhere and use parts of me for their black magics.

As I’ve grown up, it’s been quite the battle to keep me safe and alive. And to this day I’ve still got that bounty on me. It’s why I never go anywhere without Liam. I used to resent that, but there have been too many close calls. I got over it and have come to depend on him. I practice with mom and dad to hone my own skills and maybe someday I won’t have to live with this Damoclesian crap.

Well. Hi there. I have no idea what to say. My friend Liam seems to think it’s about time I “get with it” as he says and get online. “Time to join the 21st century CherryPop.” he says. So here I am. Bitching and moaning the whole time while Liam rolls his eyes at me.

It’s not so bad I guess. I’ve kept journals ever since I learned to write anyway. Maybe this way I’ll save bookshelf space.

I guess though since anyone can read this sucker, I’d better introduce myself. My name is CherryPop McGee. Yes, really. Save the jokes, I’ve heard them all. Besides, I love my name. So there.

Actually, Mom refuses to tell me why she named me after a fizzy drink. She just gets this dreamy look on her face and smiles before changing the subject. I gave up trying to solve the mystery when I was eight.

So enough about my funny name. If you’re here, you’re probably looking for info on zombies or vamps or witches and wizards. Maybe you met me at a rally and Liam handed you a card with my site address on it. Maybe you’re a crackpot who wants to let me know I’ll be spending eternity in hell. However you came by this place, I’ll do my best to keep you up-to-date on the latest news on the zombie rights front.

Here’s a few questions I get asked all. the. time.:

1. Are zombies real?
What do you think Liam? Are you real? Liam says, “Duh.” Liam’s sitting next to me nagging me to get this done keeping me company. Liam is a good friend of mine. Liam is also a true-blue, bona fide zombie and has been one since I was three. No, he doesn’t eat brains, or human flesh, or stumble around stupidly. Real zombies - the ones who have been raised properly by a trained necromancer - are human. Just dead. Liam and others like him can function normally in society. They just don’t need to eat, sleep, or drink. They do need to move around a lot or rigor mortis can set in and trust Liam when he says it’s a bitch to shake it off. Zombies don’t need to breathe either, so don’t offer them a ciggie.

Zombies cannot reproduce. No shagging There’s no blood circulating you see. So once you’re a zombie, nless you had children before you die, you will never be able to have them. One more reason to grant them rights as citizens. Some zombies would like to adopt, but as of now, that’s impossible.
2. I thought Zombies were slow-witted creatures who want to rip my guts out.
Some of them are. Avoid them. If a zombie is not raised properly, say if a wanna-be necromancer attempted to raise a zombie without the proper training and rituals, then you’re going to get the sort of zombie who give the rest of them a bad name. Yeah, they’re scary. Fortunately, it’s very difficult to raise the dead without the right training. Occasionally some idiot gets lucky, but for the most part the only dead things these amateurs might raise are bugs or fallen leaves.

3. What about vampires and witches and wizards? They’re real too?
Yes, yes and yes. I am a witch (I’m also a certified necromancer but you didn’t ask about those) and best friends are vampires and zombies. Similar cautions apply with all three of the above. You’re going to run into “evil” vamps and I know for certain there are “bad” witches and wizards in the world. There are “evil” humans out there too. Doesn’t mean they’re all evil now does it?

Wel I think I’m typed out for tonight.  Liam informs me that my little Q&A above is known as a FAQ online, so I will add to it next time. GNight!