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23
Vampire Kisses Books 1-4
by Ellen Schreiber CONTENTS Vampire Kisses 1 Little Monster 2 Dullsville 3 Monster Mash 4 Truth or Scare 5 A Light in the Window 6 Exposed 7 Happy Halloween 8 Looking for Trouble 9 Living Hell 10 Working Ghoul 11 Mission Improbable 12 Quiting Time 13 A Girl Obsessed 14 Hot Pursuit 15 Gothic Guest 16 Chocolate-and-Vanilla Swirl 17 Dream Date 18 Movie Madness 19 The Snow Ball 20 Game Over 21 Darkness and Light 22 Deadline ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Kissing Coffins 1 Bleeding Heart 2 Flower Power 3 Final Depature 4 Hipsterville 5 The Coffin Club 6 Dracula Delivers 7 The Historical Society 8 In a Manor of Speaking 9 Bus Stop Blues 10 The Covenant 11 Frightening Farewell 12 Risky Reunion 13 The Promise 14 Changeling 15 Nightmare 16 Vampire Visitor 17 School Ghoul 18 Kissing Coffins 19 Night and Day 20 Dancing in the Dark 21 Creepy Carnival Acknowledgements Vampireville 1 Bite Night 2 The Almost Great Escape 3 The Hunt 4 Freaky Factory 5 The Key 6 The Hiding Place 7 Lost and Found 8 Gossip and Garlic 9 Haunted House Calls 10 Hatsy's Diner 11 Bat Fight 12 Guest Who? 13 Gothic Fairy 14 The Invitation 15 Dreadful Dinner 16 The Grim Plan 17 Graveyard Gala 18 Cryptic Kryptonite 19 Vampireville Acknowledgments Dance with a Vampire 1 Buried 2 Vampire Feast 3 Dead Tree Forest 4 Library from Hell 5 Treehouse 6 Gothic's Orders 7 Shopghoul 8 The Bat Cave 9 Prom Princess 10 Sleepover 11 Blood Reader 12 Blood Brothers 13 Grim Grounding 14 Morbid Manicure 15 Dance with a Vampire 16 Sibling Rivalry 17 Project Vampire 18 Final Farewell Acknowledgments Vampire Kisses To my father, Gary Schreiber, with all my love; for giving me the wings to fly. "I want a relationship I can finally sink my teeth into." -Alexander Sterling 1 Little Monster It first happened when I was five. I had just finished coloring in My Kindergarten Book. It was filled with Picasso-like drawings of my mom and dad, an Elmer's-glued, tissue-papered collage, and the answers to questions (favorite color, pets, best friend, etc.) written down by our hundred-year-old teacher, Mrs. Peevish. My classmates and I were sitting in a semicircle on the floor in the reading area. "Bradley, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Peevish asked after all the other questions had been answered. "A fire fighter!" he shouted. "Cindi?" "Uh...a nurse," Cindi Warren whispered meekly. Mrs. Peevish went through the rest of the class. Police officers. Astronauts. Football players. Finally it was my turn. "Raven, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Peevish asked, her green eyes staring through me. I said nothing. "An actress?" I shook my head. "A doctor?" "Nuh, uh," I said. "A flight attendant?" "Yuck!" I replied. "Then what?" she asked, annoyed. I thought for a moment. "I want to be..." "Yes?" "I want to be...a vampire!" I shouted, to the shock and amazement of Mrs. Peevish and my classmates. For a moment I thought she started to laugh; maybe she really did. The children sitting next to me inched away. I spent most of my childhood watching others inch away. I was conceived on my dad's water bed-or on the rooftop of my mom's college dorm under twinkling stars-depending on which one of my parents is telling the story. They were soul mates that couldn't part with the seventies: true love mixed with drugs, some raspberry incense, and the music of the Grateful Dead. A beaded-jeweled, halter-topped, cutoff blue-jeaned, barefooted girl, intertwined with a long-haired, unshaven, Elton John-spectacled, suntanned, leather-vested, bell-bottomed-and-sandaled guy. I think they're lucky I wasn't more eccentric. I could have wanted to be a beaded-haired hippie werewolf! But somehow I became obsessed with vampires. Sarah and Paul Madison became more responsible after my entrance into this world-or I'll rephrase it and say my parents were "less glassy eyed." They sold the Volkswagen flower power van that they were living in and actually started renting property. Our hippie apartment was decorated with 3-D glow-in-the-dark flower posters and orange tubes with a Play-Doh substance that moved on its own-lava lamps-that you could stare at forever. It was the best time ever. The three of us laughed and played Chutes and Ladders and squeezed Twinkies between our teeth. We stayed up late, watching Dracula movies, Dark Shadows with the infamous Barnabas Collins, and Batman on a black-and-white TV we'd received when we opened a bank account. I felt secure under the blanket of midnight, rubbing Mom's growing belly, which made noises like the orange lava lamps. I figured she was going to give birth to more moving Play-Doh.
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