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Main antagonist: the guy who turned the fist vampire, Dante

Book 1- Leslie Wright, takes place in the late 20's (1928). She's a waitress from New Orleans who sees a body mangled by a vampire, she descends into madness while being stalked by vampires who eventually turn her and joins the clan. (Nola Jazz )

book 2- Danone Bird. Prequel that takes place in earlier 20's. (1925)A queer coded man from Harlem is turned into a vampire by Dante, and joins his clan, he meets and loves another male vampire, but is betrayed when his lover turns gives up himself, and the clan in, to vampire hunters. His lover dies, and he flees to New Orleans with the clan. (Harlem Jazz)

book 3- After being discovered by the hunter from book 3, in 1932, the clan flees to the delta. There, they meet our two victim, Malik Jones, and his friend Einar nilsen

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Souls hang ‘round the bayou

Chapter I-

In the dead of night, when the moon and the stars hang over the sky, the Green Bayou Jazz Club fills the streets with her smooth sounds. All on my block go in, to jump and jive.

Tonight I sit outside the club in an alley, listening to the music without being near the action. I often sit here because I’ve got no one to see, and nowhere to be on a Saturday night. In peace I took a drag of my cigarette, until I perceived a man in front of me. He wears a sleek black suit, a clean cut and olive black skin. He looks down on me with an expression I can’t decipher.

“Oh hello, nice night don't you think?” he asks with a smile

“I suppose” I say, “no different then any other to me”.

He smiles and moves closer to me “mind if I join you sir?”. I shrug my shoulders, and he sits right next to me. We sit in silence for a while, then he speaks again.

“Hey, lady,” he starts, “Why sit out here, and not in the bayou”

“I don’t know, I just like it out here better”

He turns fully to face me, “What’s your name?”

I too turn to get a good look at him. His dark eyes bore into my soul, with an anticipation that makes me hesitate before I answer “Leslie, Leslie Wright”

The man, with a satisfied look, stands up“Damone Bird, nice to meet you”, and he walks away.

Chapter II-

In the loud, vibrant streets of New Orleans, there's a rundown building of living spaces tightly stacked on each other, that’s where I live. My living area isn't much to look at either. It’s got plain white walls, a bedroom, a bathroom and a humming fridge. Oh, and a rusty old trumpet in the corner of my unfurnished living room.

This morning, I lay awake in this lowly place, under the dull covers of my bed. I get up around 6am to get ready for my shift at the diner. I put on my clothes, clean my face and teeth and tame my wildly coily hair into a proper bun. I grab my bag, making sure everything I need is inside, and then I’m out the door.

My walk to work is no more interesting than any other day, and no shorter either. My mind soon starts to wander to the events of last night, more specifically that man. My experience with him was overall jarring, considering the location in which he decided to approach me. He’s all together strange, the way he stared into my soul, how smiley he was. Eventually, I shake the thought out of my head, thinking it needless. I likely won’t see him again, but just to be sure I’ll find a different alley to spend my nights in.

I enter through the door of the diner, my manager rushes to greet me “Ah, Ms.Wright I’m glad to see you!”

“Good morning Mr. Johnson, any reason you’re so excited to see me?” I say startled.

“Oh yes, I have an important job coming up for you”

At this my nerve spikes, “What would that be”

“A special guest from New York is coming!”

“Here? Why? What for?

Johnson clasps his hands together “He’s gonna write a paper on the black experience!” He grabs my shoulders “Get excited Leslie, our diner is gonna be talk of the town, and I want you to be the one to take care of him! Now you run along, child” he laughs.

My shift ends after what feels like forever. I find myself back in my apartment. I go straight to my room, kicking off my shoes

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Red- Main story/ based on main

purple-Side story

Green- Poetry

Yellow- Authors note

White- One shot

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The bell on the door jingled as I walked into ‘The Culture Spot’, a small food shop near my place of work. I usually went there to get from the woman behind the corner who runs the place, Lane.  Lane was a beautiful woman, with tan skin, green eyes, and long curly jet black hair.I walked up to the counter, but Lane wasn't there. Instead, there was a man that I didn't recognize. He was tall and lanky, with sleek black hair, a suit and beady eyes staring straight at me.

“Is Lane in?” I asked.  “No.” he replied.

“Where is she?”

“Gone”

I stared at him, pondering at what he just said. I didn't understand, why was she gone? Where did she go? The man didn’t seem to notice my confusion, he turned away from me, inspecting the objects in front of him. I rocked back and forth on my feet, before I began to speak again “Where exactly did Lane go?”

The man let out a long, irritated sigh before turning back to me “She was taken in.” he said.

“She got arrested!?” I gasped.

“Yes”

“What for?”

“For stealing”

“Stealing!?”

“Yes” He deadpanned. My eyes widened with surprise. Lane was always a very strict rule follower, that’s just how she was. It angered me to think that her ‘good citizen’ persona was fake, especially because I was starting to have feelings for her. I looked up to the man, who was staring at me.

“What did she steal?” I asked

“Confidential”

“Well who did she steal from?”

“Xenals”

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I was born in a small cottage in the high forest. There were no other houses or even people for miles. In the house lived me, my older brother Morgan, my mother and my father. Me and mother would spend our days cooking, cleaning and planting crops. Every Sunday, Morgan and our father would travel to different towns, to trade the crops we picked. I was always so jealous of the way Morgan lived. He always told me and mother of his journeys. He told us of the different types of people he met, the food he ate, and the languages he heard. I wished to meet other people and learn other languages like him. I only spoke elvish and my only reference for other races were descriptions and Morgan's drawings, but my brother could speak common and draconian and he saw all the races there were. And most importantly he got to spend time with our father. He talked to him all the time, but I barely got to speak with him. I might've said ‘hi how are you’ if i was lucky. I wasn’t quiet about my feelings when I started to experience them either. I told my mother how I dreamed of joining them whilst we picked crops. She listened for a while but would always shut me down by saying that being at home and taking care of the land was my role as a lady. When I started to beg my father to let me join him, or at least spend time with me, he’d just tell me that fathers are meant to protect daughters not converse with them or let them take part in the actions of men. Eventually I let go of my dream, and accepted my life as it was.Years continued to pass, Morgan and our father continued to travel, I continued to take care of the land with my mother, and everyday passed the same us the last, that was until it didn't.

I woke up one Sunday morning at the fresh age of 16, just like any other Sunday. It was mid December, the trees were bare, the ground was covered in snow, and my window was frosted, just how I liked it. I left my room to see Morgan hugging mother, and father standing in the doorway, pulling his coat on. When Morgan saw me, he gave me a smile and a nod, which I had returned, and told him to be safe. As they walked out of the door, my father gave us a cold goodbye, which I also returned, just as coldly. Then, I got into my day clothes and gathered the cleaning supplies and began to do my Sunday cleaning. It wasn’t until later that night that I started to feel something was off. The sun was going down, and the boys weren't back yet. It wasn't particularly strange, they always stayed out longer than expected, sometimes they would be gone for weeks. It was just something in my energy that felt off, like an instinct that this time it wasn’t a simple detour that kept them. Still, I wrote it off as drowsiness. Then, the next morning happened, the morning that changed the course of my entire life, the stepping stone to something bigger than everything. It was a cold and windy morning, so much so that the air felt as if it were biting me. But instead of hearing the howling of the wind, I heard my mother's blood curdling scream instead, to which I shot up from my bed and ran into the living room the moment I heard it. The scene that awaited me, made my jaw drop. Morgan was standing near the door staring down at his feet, he was covered in scratches with tattered clothes. Next to him was an elf, he was a forest elf like the rest of us, but he was different, I had never seen him, and it made me freeze, because I’d never seen another person before. Once I got over the shock I noticed that he too was looking down at his feet, I noticed that my mother was sobbing on her hands and knees, and I noticed that my father wasn’t in the room. The man lifted his head to me and began to speak. This was how I learned my father died.

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I still remember the day I met my niece, and the days before. It was summer when she came, maybe late July. The emotions that day were wilder than they had ever been in our town. The girl is a little older now. I want to write, not only the details of her life, but of my life leading up to it. I believe that everything that happened in my and my brother's life led us to that little girl. Also I’m sort of writing about this as a way to cope with the fact that I don’t know much about how she came to be, so here I go.

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Writer- Tiahny C

Fictional stories in the form of journal entries stories and poetry + more

Current Main Story line: My Rose