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The zombie of your dreams could be out there. Take a chance man.

In a sense I belong to Desmond. In the old days, I would call him Master and would be his slave. Necromancers have evolved, fortunately. But the connection that binds a true zombie like me to his or her necromancer can be severed at any time. Like during a crucial battle with a bunch of zombies in which my young charge and everyone she loves is at stake.

It’s not very handy. It makes me feel vulnerable. Like I can’t do the job I was Raised to do - protect CherryPop. I gave up a lot to keep her safe. To know that it might all be pointless if, while I’m protecting her, I can just drop like a bag of bricks if my necromancer dies too? It’s harsh. And it’s been bothering me.

Not that I don’t want to blog and Liam isn’t forcing me. Just guilting me I just get distracted. There’s been a lot going on lately and frankly, I’ve been so tired that I come home and all I want to do is tumble into bed and sleep for a thousand years. Been working on the ghost issue. Finally got that sorted out. Turned out Eleanor’s daughterghost, Beth, had decided she’d had enough playing the haunter and took off to see the world. She knew her mother would never let her go, so she basically ran away. How about that? A runaway ghost.

Anyway, with Mom’s help we tracked her down, she agreed to come back and work out things with her mom and all is peachy now.

In other news, the dead are as restless as ever and we still haven’t figured out why. It’s all Dad and I can do to keep up with raisings, settlings, and occasional zombie who is too stubborn to realize they are dead and won’t go back down. It saps just about all of Dad’s strength when we get one of those.

Mom’s working with her coven to try and do their thing to find out what the hell is going on, but no joy so far and I’ve been with Dad every night training and helping. See what I mean about tired?

But I’m still around, and the blog will pick up once we get this sorted out, I promise.

Oh she’ll still post if I have to tie her to the desk to do it. But there actually is a lot going on right now. There’s the whole ghost thing over at Arthur’s. No progress there and Eleanor’s getting antsy. Then Des came to me the other day and told me he’s starting to get worried about the dead. Now, Des is a laidback kind of guy. For him to be worried about something usually means it’s time to duck and cover. he and Cherry are out right now at LesMortes trying out some rituals with Charlotte to try and get one or two bodies to talk to them and find out what’s stirring them up.

Why am I not with them? I never go with CherryPop when she’s working with Des. For some reason known only to Yoda, the dead don’t like me. Ironic? Yes it is. Actually they don’t much cotton to True Zombies in general, not just me. It’s my theory that they’re jealous once they discover they have to go back into the ground when Des is finished.

So I’m killing time until they finish up, and I’ll meet them later and take over CherryPop watch (She hates it when I call it that.) I just checked her blog and noticed she’s been a little slacker. We will have words about that later on.

Liam says, and I quote, “I look like a real badass! Cool!” Thanks Alex! Liam’s going to be impossible now.

Things have been pretty quiet lately which is nice. I’ve been helping Dad quite a lot and he’s been really busy lately which is good and it’s bad. Good because the extra money will keep mom in spellbooks and henbane and bad because an abundance of raisings tends to mean there is turbulence in the supernatural world. Or the Shadow world as I call it.

Typically, Dad raises maybe one or two temp zombies a month depending on demand. The rest of the time he fixes stuff (he’s pretty damn handy, let me tell you) and works on refining his rituals. He’s been writing what he calls the definitive book on necromancy for about 20 years now Someday it will be complete. But lately, Dad’s been called to 3-4 raisings a week. Some have been requests from the police wanting to question a murder victim or something but others have come from families who say their departed loved ones are wreaking a bit of havoc on them and they want Dad to raise them and ask them to cut it out.

In other words, the dead are getting restless and we’re not sure why. But we’re monitoring the sitch and I’ll talk about whatever findings we umm, find. Words. Sometimes they are hard.

Til then, I’m hitting the sack. G’night Liam

So yeah, no laughing now. Here are Liam’s pics. Please leave him comments because he can be such a whiny bitch sometimes if no one pats him on the head Just kidding Liam. You know I love you.

So there you have it. Enjoy, and please, no snickering. Or at least, keep it to yourself

My friend Simone is also around atm. She thinks me having this blog is silly because people are just going to think I’m a little bit insane taking about vampires and zombies and necromancers and ghosts and all that stuff. The world has taken centuries to coming around the fact that the Shadow World exists and there will always be folks who want to deny it.

I can’t say I disagree, but if I don’t get out there, get visible and tell my stories of the life I lead, then there will always be fear and fear leads to anger and all that Yoda stuff. I believe that if the world can know zombies like Liam and vampires like Simone - hell even vamps like Arthur (who can take the whole “Dracula” image to the extreme because he thinks it’s funny) then that could a big step to acceptance. I think Simone’s just cynical. By rights, I should be too. I’ve dealt with the fear and denial by the ‘normals’ my whole life and have witnessed firsthand how destructive they can be. I want to put a stop to that if I can.

So I’ll continue to blog and answer questions and tell my stories. If you, dear reader, think I’m a nutjob well, that’s your prerogative.

She didn’t really have much information for us to go on and I’m not sure either of us will be able to help her. But I’ll try. So will Mom.

We arrived at Arthur’s around 9pm and he led us to the library and offered refreshments, but my idea of refreshments and his idea are two very very different things, so we declined. He left us alone after that. The library was large and cozy at the same time. Dim lights illuminated the bookshelves which lines every wall and we took seats in the leather wingback chairs in the center of the room.

I wasn’t sure what to expect really. Would she walk in the door or fade in right in front of us? I made nervous smalltalk with Mom who was as excited as I was to experience this new phenomenon. It wasn’t long before Eleanor appeared (she faded in, by the way) and smiled at us.

“Thank you for coming back.” She said to me. Turning to my mother, she introduced herself and let her now how very grateful she was that Charlotte McGee had come to her aid as well. Evidently, in the ghostly world, Mom’s well known. Mom puffed up a little. Must remember to tease her about that later.

What Eleanor told us tore at our hearts. When they were alive, she and Beth, they were on their own. Beth’s father had died when Beth was a baby. Thanks to his careful planning, however, he left them enough to live comfortably in the house he had built for Eleanor when they were married. Beth and Eleanor were very close, and very happy. But when she turned 12, she contracted tuberculosis and soon afterwards, Eleanor did as well. Beth died first and the heartbreak Eleanor suffered only quickened her own death. She had given up. The loss of her daughter was just too much to bear and she couldn’t see the point of fighting to stay alive.

Imagine her joy when she passed and discovered that through some fluke neither could explain they were reunited. Eleanor told us that she remember breathing her last, and then she seemed to wake up. She was healthy again almost in the blink of an eye. She sat up in her bed, and heard the sound of running feet. When she looked up, Beth had run to her, pounced on the bed and was “hugging the stuffing” out of her.

Eleanor said that there was a period of adjustment for both of them. They were both clever, so it didn’t take them long to work out they weren’t of this world anymore and they did what they aways did: They made the best of it. So happy were they, that they never tried any spectral haunting to scare away new tenants in their house. They found ways to coexist with them for over a hundred years.

Mom and I listened to her talk, both of us just fascinated as hell. After she told their story, we came to the Big Question. What has happened to Beth?

“Two weeks ago, I woke up one morning and went to wake Beth like always. She wasn’t in her room which is very unusual.” She told us. “I searched the house and grounds as far as I could - we are limited as to how far we can go on the premises - and I just could not find my Beth. I became distraught. I fear I may have disturbed the present residents of the house with my weeping.” She looked down at her hands.

“Can you remember anything unusual happening that morning? Strange sounds? New houseguests - anything like that?” I asked.

“No I’m afraid not.” She replied. “One day is very much like the next to us. Everything is very routine. I am sure I would remember anything that was out of the ordinary.”

Mom and I asked a few more questions, but we really don’t have much to go on here. When Eleanor seemed as if she was tiring (her form would sort of flicker, like a light about to burn out) we said our goodbyes. I told her we would do everything we can to find Beth. I tried to be as reassuring as possible, but I think when she heard her own story out loud as she spoke to us, she came to the same realizations we did. There was precious little to go on.

As Mom and I left we talked about what we should do. She’s going to “feel” out the house and see if there are any signs of malevolent forces. I’m going to interview all of the vampires and see what they know. I’m afraid that’s all we can do for now.

I’ll keep you posted.