Welcome, one and all, back to the wonderful world of Atlanta, Georgia! I am very excited to announce that the third installment in Milton J. Davis’ fantastic short story anthology series is here: Terminus III! Today, I’m sharing an excerpt as we pick up on the third story with Cassandra Moody, the daughter of the original Wolfman, and her on-and-off-again paramour, the Father of All Vampires himself, Count Dracula aka Vlad Tepes. Please kick back and enjoy this Halloween-themed excerpt from my story, “Things That Go Bump in the Night.”
Purchase link below at the end of the excerpt.
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What kind of lunatic brings Count Dracula, aka Vlad Tepes, aka He Who Conquers aka Father of All Vampires…to a murder mystery dinner on Halloween?
Me. I’m the lunatic. My name is Cassandra Moody. Nice to meet you.
You see, the Count and I have a uniquely weird sort of friendship. It has to be, considering he’s the world’s oldest vampire and I’m the daughter of the original Wolfman. He met my parents a few centuries ago and they’ve been dear friends ever since, meaning I got an introduction. I didn’t really get to know him until a few years ago when he came to visit us in Atlanta, Georgia and I took him out for a night on the town that ended in a brawl with rival werewolves…and us making out. Just a little. I’m a classy girl, after all—I don’t just make out with any old vampire, no, I had to go and choose the Father of All Vampires. Go big or go home.
Ever since, he and I have had little…visits. That’s the nicest way to put it, really. He comes to the states every few months to hang out with our wolf pack, see my parents, and…well…the man’s title is He Who Conquers. I’m sure you can put together what we get up to each time he visits. A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.
This year, however, the Count had enough time to stop in for Halloween, which is actually a big deal in the supernatural community. Most of us get to cut loose on Halloween since the march of technology is now so advanced that many supernatural creatures can walk around as themselves and most normies write it off as elaborate costumes or special effects. Since this would be the first Halloween we’d be spending in each other’s company, I decided to make it an occasion. I’d gotten invited to a murder mystery dinner thrown by a friend of a friend, so Vlad decided to tag along for a night of thrills.
And trust me, vampires and werewolves hanging out is always a night of thrills.
The limousine rolled to a stop once we’d reached the mansion. Yes, mansion, since living for hundreds of years at a time usually means vampires are filthy rich from learning the tricks of the trade to making money. The driver walked around and opened the door for me, offering his hand as I stepped out into the brisk fall air.
I picked up the hem of my dress and carefully stepped out onto the little circle around the massive fountain. We were in the land of the rich, which for Atlanta meant the West Paces Ferry area aka the same side of town where Bill Murray’s mansion resided. I’d never be able to afford a house out this way for a hundred years, not unless I used my werewolf powers to rob a bank or knock over an armored car. I could also admit being the only black woman at a fancy murder party wasn’t the smartest idea, but I was a werewolf and could take care of myself in any situation, not to mention Vlad would go to bat for me in a heartbeat, pun fully intended. My dress flowed around me, heavy and silken, as it was a replica of the iconic, fur-lined brown dress that Bette Davis wore in All About Eve. That was the party’s theme for the night—the fifties, which happened to be an era that our hosts liked a lot, so every guest would be dressed as a character from a movie within that decade.
As such, my long dark-brown hair had been set in nice pin curls like Bette Davis’ look in the film. It was no mean feat; my hair was naturally quite curly, so I’d gotten a silk press, then set it with bobby pins overnight. It had been a pain, but it actually looked quite nice.
My date then stepped out behind me, dressed in a replica of the suit that Gary Merrill’s character, Bill Simpson, wore in the very same film. And boy, was Vlad something else to look at in a vintage suit. He was a whopping six-foot-four with sooty black hair enough to fall into his crystal blue eyes, contrasting his trademark pale skin. He was extremely well built, but that was because he was a predator and prey came to him easier when he was a handsome devil. He had a very slight Transylvanian accent and one of the driest wits I’d ever encountered. There was nothing more fun than trading banter with Dracula, in my book.
Well. Maybe one thing, but I digress.
“Ostentatious, but it’s what I expected,” he mused as he unfolded that giant frame from inside the limo, brushing lint from his right knee. “And it’s a house on a hill, no less. Quite fitting.”
“Quite indeed.”
He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, his sky blue eyes filled with good humor and affection. “Might I say again how radiant you look, Miss Channing?”
I did a little curtsey that made him laugh, affecting Bette Davis’ unique accent. “Why thank you, Bill, darling. I try.”
We walked up the steps of the gigantic house. The heavy door opened and a butler appeared. He was grey-haired and wore traditional fifties butler tails along with white gloves, bowing politely. “Good evening Miss Moody and Lord Tepes. Thank you so much for joining us this evening. Please follow me.”
He stepped aside and we walked into the massive foyer. I could hear orchestral music flowing in from the main living room. The archway to our right led to a dining room with a long oak table. There was a staircase straight ahead that led to the bedrooms. The hallway beneath it likely led to the kitchen. The one to our left sounded like it was where the guests were starting to mingle, and it was where the butler directed us to follow him. My heels clicked on the marble floors as we walked into the main area where our murder mystery would be taking place.
When we reached the door, the butler bowed and left. There was a young, pretty girl waiting for us wearing a French maid costume and a big grin, her scarlet lipstick gleaming in the overhead light. She offered us the top hat in her hands that had little folded slips of paper. Each slip was a different color, no two the same one. “Welcome to our party! Please pick a piece of paper from the hat to find out your character assignment and what actions you will perform in the role. Make sure not to show it to anyone, not even your partner. Over there are your sheets for logging evidence during your investigation.”
We thanked her, then both selected a scrap of paper, a murder suspect sheet, and a fountain pen. I peeked at my assignment. I’d chosen the role of suspect. Tonight, there would be a fake murder and a fake victim, so the rest of the party would be trying to figure out who killed them and why. The winner would be granted a lovely prize: a check for five grand as well as a little fancy trophy and some bragging rights. I saw Vlad glance at his role as well before pocketing it, his expression unreadable as usual. We thanked the maid and headed into the room to mingle with the rest of the guests.
There was a total of eight guests including me and Vlad: four men and four women. The first woman in the bunch was the most noticeable—Elizabeth. She wore the black flapper girl dress from Some Like It Hot that Marilyn Monroe had worn, meaning she’d chosen to dress up as Sugar Cane. And considering how rich she was, it was entirely possible it was the real damn thing if that dress hadn’t ever been lost or destroyed. Like the character she’d dressed up as, she was rather buxom and had blonde curly hair, an artificial beauty mark on her cheek, her lips red. It contrasted with her pale skin, as she was a vampire just like Vlad. And I noticed that her eyes locked onto my date immediately, which raised my hackles. There were a lot of women after Vlad, considering he was one of the wealthiest men alive and was handsome to boot.
The man beside her wore a grey suit that clued me in to his character: Roger Thornhill from Hitchcock’s North by Northwest. Lex was a tall, strapping man with dark hair smoothed away from his face, his cheekbones elegant, his brown eyes already slightly glazed over from alcohol consumption. Supernatural beings did like to party, after all, and werewolves like him were no exception. He nodded to me politely and then sipped more wine.
The woman beside him, Jamie, wore the striped dress of Joan Crawford’s character, Milly Wetherby, in Autumn Leaves. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face and pinned up with a few neat curls near her forehead. It made her piercing blue eyes stand out even more. Her eyes looked even brighter in her werewolf form; she had white and grey fur. I’d always found it to be lovely.
The man on her right, Robert, was dressed as Frederick Loren from The House on Haunted Hill, or as most people who know the actor, Vincent Price’s character. He had his dark hair oiled and had a fake pencil thin mustache to complete the look in his vintage suit. He was chatting with Jamie and sipping from a glass of white wine. Like I said, werewolves love their booze.
His partner in crime—in life and in the party—was Maxine. She was short and curvy, wearing the iconic purple and gold outfit of Annabelle Loren from House on Haunted Hill, with her blonde hair in soft waves, but away from her face. She had a Steuben with what smelled like whiskey in it as she talked to Lex.
The last guest was Paul, a male vampire dressed as Brick Pollitt from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, particularly Paul Newnan’s powder blue set of pajamas as well as his leg cast. He had a crutch under one arm to sell the look, his brown hair neatly brushed. He took a deep sip from a chalice and his lips were unnaturally red as he did so; lots of vampires preferred their blood this way, but there was no denying they still liked it fresh right from the source. ‘
The room we’d entered looked to be the family room. It had a long burgundy couch and a matching loveseat across from it with a few more individual, but equally nice chairs around in the center of the room. The fireplace was directly across from the door and the walls were adorned with framed paintings of autumn landscapes and snowy mountains. It was all on gorgeous hardwood floors with rugs dotted around under the furniture and there was a black grand piano in the corner.
Robert and Maxine were our hosts and we were the last to arrive, so they quieted the group and then addressed everyone.
“Thank you so much for coming!” Maxine chirped. “We can’t wait to get started. Raise your hand if this is your first murder mystery dinner.”
I raised mine, as did Vlad and Jamie. “Well, don’t worry. We’ll walk you through everything. Everyone has been assigned a part to play and you are not to reveal to anyone else what yours happens to be. In just a few minutes, there will be a murder. Our victim will play dead for the rest of the party and the rest of us are going to look for clues and interrogate each other until everyone has decided on who they think is the culprit. Once everyone has chosen, we’ll go around and let them explain their accusations. Once everyone has had a turn, then we’ll reveal whodunit. The person who wins is the one who guesses the culprit and the murder weapon. In the event that two or more people are right, we’re willing to give out equal prizes and you can share the trophy. If no one guesses right, then it’s void and we can technically shift the roles and try again if everyone is patient enough to do so.”
Robert spread his hands. “Any questions?”
“Are there any particular restrictions or rules?” I asked. “Like ‘don’t leave this room’ or something to that effect?”
“Oh, no, you’re welcome to our home,” Robert said warmly. “Please explore as you like. The entire place is part of the mystery, so you’re welcome to go anywhere you want since everything counts as a clue or a possible scenario to figure out whodunit. You won’t need to go outside, though, as all the clues are indoors or can be viewed from indoors.”
“Will we split up, pair up, or stay in a single group?” Jamie asked.
“It’s completely optional. Whatever you think will help you solve the mystery.”
“Lovely,” Vlad said. “Are the wait staff assisting us or are they off limits?”
“You’re welcome to ask them anything,” Maxine replied. “They’ve all been handsomely paid for participating. We try to keep them happy since they keep us so happy.”
“Are any of them part of the suspect pool?”
“No, we decided to keep it to just the guests. They won’t be any of the assigned roles, but they can assist if you think of things to ask them.”
Robert walked over to the doors and pulled them shut, locking them with a key he tucked into his pocket. “And just for the murder itself, we’ll keep the doors shut and locked and the lights will go off briefly right at nine o’clock on the dot. In the meantime, please enjoy some libations and get ready for the main event.”
I took a moment to offer everyone a Cheshire cat grin. “Fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.”
Most of the group laughed, having understood the reference. If there was one thing I was good for, it was references. I was a millennial, after all.
“How’ve you been, Vlad?” Elizabeth asked. “I haven’t seen you since this turn of the century.”
“Oh, you know me,” he said casually. “I suffer from wanderlust. But I’ve been making trips to the states more often on account of a certain someone.”
He paused enough to wink at me. “And I like this time of year in Atlanta. It’s a rather festive city, after all. There is so much to do and the culture is very rich.”
“It’s really coming along nicely,” Lex said. “I live over in Little Five Points and it’s such a good area for the creative crowd. My sister’s a professional dancer with a troop over there so it’s nice to see so many people in the entertainment industry working in that area.”
“I’ve been interested in the movie industry’s interest here as well,” Jamie said. “Like that studio out in Fayetteville. It’s exciting that Atlanta’s becoming so prominent in the filming world.”
“Well, it is cheaper cost of living here due to so much poverty,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not sure I could live here.”
Lex shrugged a shoulder. “Just depends on where you go.”
“Atlanta’s not a pretty town, but it’s got a little bit of everything,” I said. “If you know where to look. I’m trying to convince the Count to get a summer home here; I really do think he’d like it.”
“Oh, yes, yes,” Jamie said excitedly. “It would be amazing to have you in town more often, you know. That last soiree that you threw at the beta’s house was incredible.”
Vlad grinned. Had his fangs been out, we’d have seen them. “Why, thank you. The only hesitation is that if I buy a home here, I’ll never bloody leave.”
“The state would vastly benefit from your presence,” Elizabeth said, and the comment finally made me really take notice of her. I’d only met her twice. She lived in SoHo, but I also knew she had properties all over the states. We’d never held a full conversation since my instincts told me she had no regard for me, either from being a werewolf, being black, or being Southern. There was something…selfish in her eyes. She gave me the impression she spent a lot of time looking down her nose at other supernatural creatures and humans alike.
“Perhaps,” Vlad said smoothly, sipping from the champagne flute that a waiter offered. “The Moody wolf pack has been very good to me. I wouldn’t mind settling down in a city this vibrant with so many beautiful women around.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. He wasn’t fooling anyone. “Yes, these are the priorities of He Who Conquers.”
Most of the group chuckled. “Excuse us for just a second.”
I tugged my date aside. It wouldn’t be great since both vampires and werewolves had supernatural hearing, but I still wanted a moment alone with him. “Problem?” he asked as quietly as possible as we stood by the fireplace. The crackling hearth would throw the sound off a little, hopefully.
“How much do you know about Elizabeth?” I asked.
Vlad frowned. “Not much. She comes from the Norwegian clan of vampires. I don’t see her very often, truth be told. She keeps to herself mostly. Why?”
“My Spidey sense is tingling.”
Vlad arched an eyebrow. “My darling, the copyright infringement.”
I poked him in the side, glaring. “I mean it. Something’s up. I can feel it in my gut.”
He nodded. “You have good instincts. Trust them. I’ll keep my wits about me much as possible, then.”
“As much as possible?” I echoed.
He grinned again. “Well, you are quite bewitching in that dress. It’s very distracting.”
I scoffed, but wanted to smile again. “Oh, stop it, you dirty old man.”
His eyes gleamed as he leaned down to my height and dropped a soft kiss to my lips. “Never.”
And, of course, that was the exact moment someone turned out the lights.
TO BE CONTINUED
Grab yourself a copy in all formats directly from Milton’s website or wherever books are sold! Milton will also have copies at the upcoming Georgia Indie Book Faire on September 13th, 2025, and at Multiverse Con October 17-19th 2025, so be there or be square!
