Jennifer Lauren Ackermann “Unveiling the Secret Fangs”

About the Author:

I’m 19 years young and live in Orlando, Florida.  I am currently attending my local community college and working toward my degree in English.  I would like to thank Celis for all her kind words and support.  Feel free to follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/ItsMeJaylah.  Enjoy.

Unveiling the Secret Fangs

By: Jennifer Lauren Ackermann

Darkness hadn’t really freaked me out before, but when floating yellow eyes that glowed started moving toward me from the shadows, that, I admit, did scare me.  Even though I was twenty-three years old, living on my own and financially stable, I wanted my older sister there with me more than anything.  Sinthea had always been the brave one growing up.  I had learned my cynicism from her.  Sinthea had always told me that all realists needed a hint of cynicism in their bones.

Having a mom that had passed away shortly after my birth and a father that had worked himself non-stop to keep busy and away from the house where all of mom’s things were, growing up had been hard and lonely.  Sinthea had taken it upon herself to care for me where our father had failed to.  Being four years older than I, Sinthea had sacrificed a lot for me and my happiness.  It hadn’t been until a few years ago that I realized that and felt stabs of guilt from it occasionally, even to this day.

We were very close.  Close enough for me to see that my big sis had a darkness that was inside her deep, deep down.  Even being as close as we were, it seemed that I could never get close enough to touch or identify it.  She seemed to guard it, keeping it safe from everyone.  It hurt me to see her practically thriving off of it, like it was the only thing that could keep her going.

Sinthea had gone missing the day she moved out of the house, severing all ties with everyone.  She quit her job, cancelled her cell phone service and didn’t tell anyone where she had moved to.  The last thing that she had ever said to me whispered through my mind, reopening the wound that would never be fully healed over.

I love you, Roberto.  You are my brother and my best friend.  I need you to know that before I leave.  If you’re mad at me for this, I understand and I won’t blame you, but you must also understand that this is for your own good.  I know you don’t see it now, but you will, she had said.

When she had left and never bother to call, visit, e-mail or write a letter to let me know that she was all right, I hadn’t been mad.  No, I had been pissed.  She had left me all alone with a father who couldn’t even look at me since I reminded him so much of his dead wife.  Maybe I was stupid or ignorant, but after eleven years I still couldn’t see how it was for my own good.  Maybe I simply didn’t want to see it.  I didn’t have a clue as to what she had been talking about.  Eleven years of constant wondering hadn’t gotten me any closer to an answer than I was now.

The burning, yellow orbs stopped coming closer and blinked a few times.  I back peddled a few steps right into a cluster box that clanged loudly.  The wind that had been rustling the leaves, died, the night bugs’ song silenced as well.  It was creepy, to say the least.

Jennifer Lauren Ackermann “Fanged Reunion”

About the Author:

I’m 19 years young and live in Orlando, Florida.  I am currently attending my local community college and working toward my degree in English.  I would like to thank Celis for all her kind words and support.  Feel free to follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/ItsMeJaylah.  Enjoy.

“Fanged Reunion”

By: Jennifer Lauren Ackermann

Looking outside of the window of the apartment that I shared with my best friend Kara Leigh Walker, everything appeared normal, boring even.  Of course, there were the people that walked their little furry friends in the middle of the night and hoards of club-hoppers stumbling their way home from clubs.  That was normal though.

I sighed and let the curtain fall back into place.  A cool, gentle touch instantly put a smile on my face as I turned around to face the owner of that touch, Jean-Pierre.  His honey eyes burned into mine.  I wriggled my way into his arms and squeezed him tightly.  He tucked my head under his chin.  I breathed in the scent that was unique to him.  He smelled of leather, the sharp tang of soap and a hint of spiciness from cologne.  I thoroughly approved.

His arms eased and slid to my shoulders.  “What is wrong mon petit chaton, my little kitten?” he asked me in that silken voice of his.

I took the time to admire him before answering.  His hair fell in waves the color of dark chocolate matching the stubble on his chin.  His chin and nose were made up of strong lines.  His shoulders were wide and swooped down to a tapered waist.  “I’m worried about Kara Leigh,” I finally said.  “I mean, I know that she’s a work right now, but I’m a little freaked.  What if someone really does grab her or something?”

A slow smile tilted up the left side of his lips.  “You are so—how do you say?—passionate.”  I smiled back up at him.  “Come.  Relax.”

He led me over to the couch, pulling me down with him.  I arranged myself between his legs and leaned back against his chest.  His arms snaked around me drawing me closer.  I tipped my head back to gently nibble on his chin.  He groaned, his head lolling back.

“Do not do something rash now that you will regret later, Elodie,” he said in a tight voice.

I was getting ready to protest when he pressed a finger to my lips, his body tense.  There was a metallic click of a key in the lock then in walked Kara Leigh, Bryce, her older brother, and Trystyn, her boyfriend of three years.  Kara Leigh was the feminine version of Bryce, with blonde hair, blue eyes and smooth porcelain skin.  Trystyn had midnight hair and the brightest green eyes I had ever seen.

Jennifer Lauren Ackermann “A Clash of Fangs”

About the Author:

I am 19 years young and I live in Orlando, Florida.  Currently, I’m attending my local community college and working toward my degree in English.  I am an aspiring author with hopes of being published one day.  I would like to thank Celis for all her kind words and endless support.  I hope you enjoy my short story.

A Clash of Fangs

By: Jennifer Lauren Ackermann

Upon reaching my apartment, I shoved the key into the door and threw it open with so much force that I undoubtedly increased the hole in the wall behind it.  Kara Leigh, my roommate and best friend, was going to be pissed about it, but I would worry about it later.  I rushed into the bathroom and grabbed my toothbrush, grabbed Kara Leigh’s toothpaste since mine was no where in sight, squeezed a healthy amount of the toothpaste onto it then began scrubbing away at my teeth.  Brushing my teeth had become a nervous habit of mine several years ago while I was still living with my parents.

“Your breath was, and is, fine, Elodie,” said a deep, accented voice behind me.

I gasped and managed to swallow almost an entire mouthful of the thick froth.  I spit what remained into the sink.  “Jesus!  You scared me,” I chastised, turning around to look at the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes on.  His eyes were almond shaped and the color of champagne rimmed with thick, dark colored eyelashes.  His hair was a hybrid of waves and curls the color of dark chocolate.  His jaw line was strong and dotted with stubble that was not too soft or too rough and his nose would have made a Roman statue weep with envy.

“How did you even get it?  Aren’t you supposed to be invited in to be able to enter someone’s place of living?”

“No, we do not.  It’s just a courtesy that ending up becoming myth concerning my kind.  You forget, my kind has been around for thousands of years and you were nothing if you were not a gentleman then.”  His eyes wandered to the eight or so books lined up on the back of the toilet that were all about vampires.  He smirked, his lips lifting up in the left corner.  “Maybe you haven’t.”

I smiled up at him triumphantly.  Almost every book in my apartment was about vampires, specifically vampire love stories.  The books that weren’t were Kara Leigh’s books and those were all neatly lining the shelves of her mini-sized bookcase in her room.  I turned to rinse my toothbrush and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  My hair was honey-blonde and my eyes were big and a dull brown color.  My forehead was too big and required bangs to disguise it.  I wouldn’t say that I was ugly, but I also wouldn’t say that I was pretty.  I was just a plain Jane.  Jean-Pierre had told me that I was perfect, but I didn’t see it.

Jennifer Lauren Ackerman “Fangbait Finds Her Fanged Love”

About the Author:

I am 19 years young and I live in Orlando, Florida.  I am currently attending my local community college and working toward my degree in English.  I read like a breathe and I have an ever growing library in my room.  I have dreamt of becoming a writer my entire life.  This is my first short story ever submitted.  I would like to thank Celis for all her kind words and support.  I hope you enjoy.

Fangbait Finds her Fanged Love

By Jennifer Lauren Ackermann

Walking down a back alley in this city was not the smartest thing a person could do.  In fact, it probably ranked a nine and three-fourths on the scale of stupidity.  I never claimed to be brilliant, but I wasn’t dumb either.  I knew the risks and dangers, probably better than anyone.  It wasn’t the algae that coated the ancient brick walls that you needed to worry about, the bums huddled behind Dumpsters, the slime all over the concrete or even the rodents that scurried from corner to corner searching for food and a place to sleep.  No, what you needed to worry about was bigger than a rat and much, much faster, not to mention meaner.  Not just mean, but vicious.

I was clutching my purse to my side as my eyes darted to every nook and cranny that I could see, searching out anything that could be lurking there and waiting to pounce on me.  I strained my ears so hard that a headache was beginning to blossom in my temples.  I could neither see nor hear anything, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there.  The hairs on the back of my neck felt like they were trying to crawl their way down my spine, a sure sign that was being watched.

Just keep walking, I told myself.  Just keep walking and you’ll be home in no time.  Don’t look back.  Don’t act like you’re scared; they’ll smell it.  They like it.  Don’t fuel the fire.

I lifted my chin, daring anyone to get in my way as I continued to stomp down the alleyway.  My patent leather heel slid in a sickly green colored patch of slime and down I went, yelping as my butt connected with the damp cement.  I sat there for who knows how long, not believing that I just fell on my ass for almost the whole world to see.  Okay, so it certainly wasn’t the whole world, just a few bums and rats, but that failed to occur to me.

Gathering as much dignity as I could, I scrambled to my feet again.  “Stupid high heels,” I mumbled to myself.  “Stupid slime.”