Night of the Living Dandelion Read Online Free PDF Page B

available. I found blossoms of sweetpea, snapdragon, Prima Donna roses, mini carnations, Gerberas, and tulips. For my accent color, as well as for fragrance, I pulled stems of Pelargonium graveolens, or “Lady Plymouth,” pale green leaves with frilly white edges that were known for their sweet scent. I decided to use a square glass vase filled with white gravel in order to make a crisply modern, yet peachy soft statement.
    I was stripping thorns from the rose stems and humming with carefree abandon when my thirteen-year-old niece, Tara, came through the curtain with her friend Jamie. Tara is the daughter of my younger brother, Jordan. Because she and I share the same hair color, height, and freckles, people meeting us assume we’re sisters. All Tara lacks to be my twin is fourteen years, twenty pounds, and a generous bustline. If only I could give her half of mine . . .
    “Guess what, Aunt Abby!” Tara exclaimed. “We made a Web site for the New Chapel vampire. We call it We Heart Vlad dot com. Show her, Jamie.”
    Jamie, all legs, arms, and big brown eyes, with cocoacolored skin and a long black braid down her back, climbed onto a stool, opened her backpack, and removed a sleek pink laptop.
    “Are you Wi-Fi’d?” she asked. “Oh, never mind. I found a free connection.” She typed a string of letters into the SEARCH box and then swiveled the computer to show me. “See?”
    “How do you know you heart Vlad?” I asked the girls, gazing at the pink hearts, white bows, and photos of movie actors that played vampires. “Have you met him?”
    “We’ve seen him through the front window of Uncle Marco’s bar,” Tara said. “Besides, we’ve never met the Jonas Brothers either, but we heart them, too.”
    “News flash,” I said, tickling Tara’s chin with a rose petal. “Vlad is not a vampire and Marco is not your uncle.”
    “Vlad is a vampire, Aunt Abby. Why else would he go out only after dark, eat bloody meat, and sleep in a casket ?”
    “How do you know what kind of meat he eats?”
    “Crystal’s mom saw Vlad eating raw steak at a restaurant,” Tara replied.
    “And Vlad has fangs, too,” Jamie said. “My aunt saw them up close. She visits Down the Hatch every evening now to watch him.”
    “Don’t listen to those rumors,” I said, going back to my arrangement. “Vlad goes outside during the day, and his eyeteeth may be a little longer than the rest, but they’re not fangs. Your mom probably saw him eating steak carpaccio, which is served raw. As for sleeping in a casket, that’s just silly.”
    “Have you seen Vlad outside during the day?” Tara asked.
    “Yes, I did,” I said. “He came down to Bloomers on Monday to order houseplants.”
    “What time?” Tara challenged.
    “A little before five o’clock.”
    “That’s dusk,” Jamie said, shredding a leaf with her fingers. “That counts as nighttime.”
    “What kind of plants did he buy?” Tara asked.
    As if I’d tell her now. “What is this? An inquisition? You shouldn’t spread these rumors, girls. They’re hurtful.”
    “We’re not the ones spreading them,” Tara said. “We’re trying to undo the damage. Jamie, show her the other site.”
    Jamie typed in the URL and at once the background on her screen turned black, with a border down each side made of silver stakes, silver bullets, and silver knives tipped with red. Across the top, in red letters that resembled dripping blood, was the name: HOW TO KILL A VAMPIRE, with the Web site URL www.howtokillavampire.com .
    If that wasn’t alarming enough, in the middle of the page was a sketch of a man who looked like Vlad. Beneath the sketch was the heading HOW TO RECOGNIZE A VAMPIRE. Under it was a list of vampire lore with check marks next to each item that allegedly matched up to Vlad.
    On the right was the image of a tombstone on which had been printed RIP, with a link that said CLICK HERE. The link led to a page that listed various ways to get rid of vampires, such as