Struggling College Student Feeds Vampires for Money...

Welcome to the new 2020 format theme where text comes first and picture second. The short reason is... my internet is slow. The extended explanation is in this blog post.

Since this update is about Blood Money, I'll give you the run-down...

Blood Money Update 3 (January 2020)

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If you're looking for the latest updates on this story, click "Blood Money" under the CATEGORIES on the side-bar column on the right. 

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JUST WANT THE EXCERPT? SCROLL DOWN TILL YOU SEE
BLOOD MONEY IN RED

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There is something freeing about having an outline for a story. It's a base. While one of my mentor's, John Truby, boasts most successful authors write an outline for a story, I know of some pretty successful authors that don't use an outline. At all. Like, none. 

Sometimes I think an outline is used for showing to an editor, publisher or director/producer that you have an idea and to prove you know where to go with that idea.

I love the outlining process. It's almost my favorite part. But writing for me has always been about self discovery. It's a discovery of the world around me. I may want to go to Tibet, and I can... with my imagination from just a few pictures. 

Everything about the world is part of your own interactive experiences. 

Our everyday experiences are what we are, what we have, and give us meaning. 

The grand scheme of things (of the universe) are not within our grasp. Yes, we're aiming for mastery of everything. But, if we were puppet masters of the universe then we'd know more about the mysteries of life. 

But we don't.

We are Jon Snow. (We know nothing)

Daily experiences are our way of being part of the scheme of things. I've always loved Alan Watts and his take on the "bigger scheme" of existence:

https://genius.com/Alan-watts-the-dream-of-life-annotated

And with those words to ponder you might think, what does story and existence have to do with each other?

Now, because I feel like going down a rabbit hole, I'm going to *squirrel* for a moment and talk about technology and state of affairs...

Don't worry, it won't be as boring as it sounds. I promise. 

Everything I say is profound. (Eye-roll)

Really, this won't be painful.

I'm not that smart.

Many see the side of technology taking away jobs and that's fine. I know all about survival and doing things you need to do to survive. Like taking a shitty job to make sure you and your family have money to be okay. 

But what people don't see is that they have the opportunity to go find something to do that something they really like. Something that will change the world. 

Desperation has been the single most affluent culprit of human advancement

Let's say you've just been fired from your shitty McDonald's job that really should have been seen as a start of your career, not a place to wallow and meander while you live paycheck to paycheck and never going out of your way to sloth through life.

Desperation sets in.

How will you pay rent?

How will you get food?

How will you get another job?

Nobody likes to feel desperate, but there you are, a week away from homelessness. Yes, you feel weak. You feel devastated. You feel lost. No, you are not the only one whose lost your job. Droves of people are applying for the same positions as you.

But there are endless testimonials of people who've shaken themselves off the ground and found the earth-shattering, life-changing thing they want to do. 

Effectively, you should thank McDonald's because they told you to go fucking find the thing you love to do and make money doing it. 

But there are plenty of people who look around and find a job right away that's similar to the slothing they've done since the beginning of their working ability. To those people, I'd say... 

Thank goodness you found a job. There is no shame in tucking your potential to take care of family. Or, you must not be ready for your own greatness. 

But those people, who found another job at Burger King, failed to rise above, they failed to become the underdog. They did not find the thing that wanted to do to make money for the rest of their lives.

OR DID THEY? 

Maybe that waitress job is hard, but they love the service they provide people.

No, it's not giving out plates of food to the homeless but it's service. 

Maybe they are giving their all to cooking, cleaning, or *name a menial task here* and this IS their life's work. 

What I'm getting at is...

Technology can only do so much.

One day, technology may replace the worker in the field that farms. I've seen farming machines you can buy for five grand. Technology already helps doctors diagnose what's wrong with patients. Did you think people spin little bottles of your blood sample all day long? If you had a robot assistant, that technology could keep you alive longer and also give you independence long after your nineties. Care giver robot at my beck and call? I can't wait to scream, "Siri! Get me some water!"  

Plus, do you really want to work at McDonald's all your life?

If you do, then, why? What makes it worth your time?


Anyway, I can see this has gone down the rabbit hole a bit. I'm supposed to give you an excerpt and maybe a character sketch, but now that I have my mind running in circles I think all I have the energy for is an excerpt! 

How about it?

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Excerpt from WIP title: ​Blood Money

​© 2019 S.N.McKibben​

No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted without written prior permission from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, incidents and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

This is a totally unedited chapter. It may or may not stay the same after final edits and it may or may not remain in the story.

If you find any grammar, spelling or punctuation errors, please let know via the comments!! I may not get to them here, but I the final product will see them.

​Thank you!

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Blood Money

Yellow eyes followed me as I walked near the edge of festive college students all pretending to be something they weren’t. For the fifth time I faced my friend, Lilly. But I didn’t look at her. No, my eyes traveled back to my faded blue Honda sitting in the parking lot of yet another rave.

“You won’t find any answers in your car.” Lilly’s topaz eyes sparkle in mischief.

“They’re all insane.” I glanced back to the throng of people and pulled the delicate silk scarf around my neck higher.

“Maybe.” She stepped forward, looking into the crowd. “But your appointment is waiting for you.”

Lilly knew just enough about me and my mission to hopefully point me in the right direction. Or rather, a person in the right direction. While this “appointment” Lilly said was a long shot, for my mother’s sake, I had to try.

The celebration was an invite only party. Lucky me, my friend secured the whereabouts, and everyone was tight lipped about what went on here. Not that anyone was doing anything illegal. Well, except for drugs maybe, but if anyone besides their inner circle knew what went down, it was likely the police would show up. If my vanilla mocha drinking butt got put in the slammer… well, I’d heard women inmates were hard core. I shuttered, not at the company behind bars, but because it reminded me too much of my past.

But the drugs weren’t the unusual part of this rave.

The same pair of cat-like eyes staring at me from inside the edge of partygoers tilted, daring me to enter the fray. The man attached to those eyes was a blond, tall, gorgeous pretender.

He wasn’t the only one wishing to be somebody else. Something else.

A sea of black lace, gothic motif and a range of contacts from color enhancing to pupil altering relaxed my nerves. The monsters I dealt with did everything within their power to fit in. These people were doing anything to look like vampires. If only they knew the reality.
Mr. Gorgeous Pretender smiled and flashed a pair of porcelain canines far longer than any humans.

“Dear lord, is that Diego Sanderson?” I whispered over my shoulder to Lilly.

But she was gone.

Typical. She always left the fun part to me.

“What’s your name?” Mr. Gorgeous loomed over me. He held an air of superiority in a black suit that could make a girl swoon. But he reminded me too much of the monsters that drained my kind dry over and over. His vertical slit iris contacts were too spot-on, his needle thin canines too life-like, and he spoke without a lisp that real people with removable teeth could not imitate without practice. Lots and lots of practice.

He stared at me, waiting for an answer, bemusement curving his lips.

​Catatonic helplessness rooted me to the spot. I looked everywhere—anywhere else. I tried shaking off the terror, assuring myself with the blade under the ankle of my jeans, and reasoning with all I knew about real vampires. His skin was too rosy to be undead. If I could reach out and touch him, I bet I’d find warmth. His pupils didn’t dilate. But there was so much he had right. The motions, the look, the insufferable confidence. Everything was too coincidental for him not to have at least seen an eternal damned. 

This marks the end of this excerpt for today. I'll keep you appraised of the story next month! If there isn't a "next episode" button, check the sidebar under categories and click "Blood Money" for other updates! 

Until next time...
...happy reading!

~ Stephy