Just started this short story, which hopefully will end up long enough to finish up my new book?

Mrs. Weatherby’s Clientele

    By Ernest Stewart

Elizabeth Weatherby felt the warmth of the setting sun upon her eyelids as she came out of fourth stage REM sleep. She lay all warm and cozy for a minute, and then awoke with a start, she was late and it didn’t for her to be late with her special clientele.

She sprang naked from her bed and made a beeline for her shower. 15 minutes later she had finished her toilet, and had run back to her bedroom, and hurriedly dressed herself. As she locked her front door she notice that the sun was just above the horizon, so she breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that she wasn’t as late as she had supposed herself to be. She would have time to stop for a large coffee and a bear-claw to go before she got to work, at least that was something.

She was driving down the familiar cul-de-sac to her clinic, which sat on the end of the street, in fact, it was the only building on the street. There was a parking lot on and either side of the building, and in this case, but 4 cars parked, three of which belonged to her staff, and one late donor. The donor was busily counting his money and didn’t notice Mrs. Weatherby as she drove by and around to the back of the building to her parking space and the door to her office.

She entered her office, and put her purse down, then walked through the opposite door and entered the clinics hallway. Past the laboratories, and refrigerators rooms, into the outer lobby where her staff was awaiting her. They were her three nurses, and her secretary, who handed her the daily report sheets. She glanced at the totals and turned and set them on their way and then locked the front door. She pushed a button that made the sign that said The Weatherby Clinic drop into the roof and turned on the bright red neon sign that popped up in it’s place that said, “Life Stream Laboratories.”

By now the sun had set, and the afterglow was being to fade away, it wouldn’t be long now. She clipped on the 45 caliber Smith & Wesson that fired wooden stakes instead of lead, and awaited her special clientele. She never needed the gun, but her dear departed husband, Richard who got a little to friendly with an Upir could have certainly used one. There were very few Upir among her clientele, mostly your average vampire, and most, perfect gentlemen and ladies. They knew a good thing when they found one.

The Upir in question met a grisly end when attacked and ripped slowing to pieces by a pack of werewolves, whose leader the old grey back, Charles, she had adopted as her lover with the death of Richard. Charles had watched her drive a stake through Richard’s heart as he returned from the dead. In her position, it was nice to have a pack of werewolves at your beck and call!

It wasn’t long before she heard the night call doorbell, that along the door was invisible to most human eyes. She buzzed them through as she sat behind the counter and awaited their arrival. Her first clientele were a pair of brothers who were brought over by their own mother at the beginning of the 12th century. They came in on a average of twice a week and ordered two warm bottles of B positive and 6 cold to go, a typical order for which they paid $2,000. Her rates went from $100 a bottle for O positive to $3,000 for B negative and $5,000 a bottle for AB negative for full blood, and O plasma could be had, if you were down and out, for $75 a bottle.

She took the brothers money, and as they took their time sipping the warm blood, she put the other 6 bottles of B positive into a “doggie bag” for them to take home and drink at their leisure.