I’m a Vampire…In Charge of Draculacare Read Free Page B

last. Quickly, she added, “I can confide in you that the owner is moving to a mansion in Florida, since he earned so much money over the years in long-term investments…and you are sure to do the same.”
    This brought the light back into their eyes quickly enough. All it takes is salesmanship, she thought happily. Now, if only our own government leaders can keep their wretched computers from crashing when we are filling out all those forms. Fortunately, they were not required for recording home sales.
     
    * * * *
     
    In fact, Draculacare was having even more serious problems than that…as Tim Johnson, the handsome, hulking undead model who had posed for the Draculacare Web site, soon learned to his dismay.
    “Hey, aren’t you the guy who has his picture on the Web site?” a young man shouted, as Tim walked towards the blood bank in search of his usual late-night dinner.
    “I am indeed!” Johnson beamed. “Would you like my autograph?”
    “Are you kidding?” the lad cried. “I would tear it to pieces! It’s bad enough that a Black brother like you is promoting that mess called Draculacare, and making all the rest of us look bad.”
    Hearing the shouts, a mob soon gathered around him…and if they didn’t have any pitchforks, they more than made up for it by forming crosses with their fingers. Since that gesture affected him the way a very bright, shining light would have struck a victim of dry-eye-syndrome, he could not help turning and running as the crowd raced after him.
    To his utter humiliation, he was forced to take refuge in a police station…where the cops stood there grumbling and shaking their heads. A couple of them were Undead Officers, too…but they joined their comrades in complaining to him about those Draculacare Web sites and all the trouble they made.
    “I spent hours trying to get my wife on the site,” one of the officers told him, as the others nodded in angry agreement. “It was the worst day I have ever spent…or the worst night anyway…since I became an Undead American myself. And then the kids will have to go through it all again, when they reach the age of consent.”
    “Things will get better,” Johnson feebly assured them.
    But as he soon realized, they were about to get even worse.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    “And what about animal rescue?” Ingrid Foha demanded. “Draculacare is all very well…but don’t animals have the right to the government’s protection?”
    “I agree with you completely,” replied the First Lady (or, more accurately, the First Witch). “As you probably know, I am the head of the Black Cat Rescue group…just as you are the leader of PUMA. They are both very worthy causes.”
    “Yes, and I am very proud to be the director of People United for Mercy to Animals, Mrs. O’Neill. But right now these are both merely private charities, and the government should play its part in supporting them with tax funds.”
    “Call me Evelyn, please. And you could say I am trying to do just that, by inviting you here to the tea in the White House green room, so we could decide how to help our four-legged friends. Although, of course, I am well aware that you are two-legged during the day and four-legged at night, since you are a werewolf.”
    “A were-Maltese,” Ingrid corrected her. And indeed, the First Lady thought, the girl really did seem likely to turn into a fluffy little Maltese dog at any moment, thanks to her great black eyes and long white-blond tresses, which were the hallmarks of the popular breed.
    “I am a werewolf, though,” her companion Constantin put in. With his shaggy red hair, his bright brown eyes and his tall, muscular form, the First Lady found that easy to believe.
    “Well then,” Evelyn O’Neill responded, seating herself gracefully on the gilt brocade sofa and gesturing to her guests to sit beside her. “What would you like us to do?”
    “We want you to recognize us werewolves…and were-Malteses…as citizens,