Friday, June 2, 2017

Chapter 4 of Book 1 of 3 as a sample read

Chapter 4


The next day’s drive brought the three even closer. Bekka and Susana continued to bicker, and Rebe had to mediate, but they each enjoyed the rapport. They discussed what had happened last night and how they felt since coming to Mexico and meeting each other; they agreed that Demetrio was the key to figuring out what had happened to them. They needed to find him and question him about why they were feeling odd urges, losing their tempers, avoiding the night, and embracing the day, and they needed him to explain this chemistry among them.
In any other time or place, the three would be an unlikely combination, yet each now felt that to be without the others would wound them more deeply than breaking off a romance. The feelings weren’t necessarily sexual, but that’s as close as they could come to describing them – a desire to be together as intense as any sexual desire.
Bekka said, “There’s something weird going on. I’ve never wanted to be in the company of anyone as much as I want to be in your company, and I don’t even know either of you. There you have it – the emotion is true – the reason for it probably won’t change the feelings.”
“But,” said Rebe, “knowing the reason can help us moderate ourselves; if we know what’s going on, we may find options for overcoming it.”
Susana thought to herself, “But I don’t want to overcome it; I like feeling this way.”
Rebe said, “I do too,” and looked back over her shoulder at Susana who was staring out the window with a smile on her face.
She turned to Rebe and said, “What? I didn’t say anything.”
Rebe replied, “Didn’t you just say that you liked feeling like this?”
“No,” said Susana, “I thought it, but I didn’t say it.”
Rebe said, “I must be reading your thoughts then since I heard it plain as day.”
Susana laughed, “You must be. Hey, maybe we’ll all be able to read each other’s minds. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Yeah that would be something.”
Rebe was driving again, way over the speed limit, on a toll road that was free of topes. The country was beautiful and became more so the closer they got to San Miguel de Allende.
Finally, they crested a hill and took in the stunning sight of the lakes and the town. The green-pastured checkerboard carpet of corn and grasses welcomed them as they drew near – a contrast to the trees and cacti that grew next to each other around the fields.
“It’s almost as if this place knew we were coming,” said Susana as she reached for her camera, “and it’s happy that we’re finally here.” She started taking photos out the window.
Bekka, Rebe and Susana drove into San Miguel de Allende and checked into their suite at the Rosewood hotel. As they unpacked, they discussed their upcoming meeting with Demetrio at the Luna, the rooftop lounge.
Susana said it was a shame that it was not a full moon because it would be a beautiful, romantic location to view it.
Rebe said, “That won’t happen for another five nights on March 20, which will be the Spring Equinox. Tonight will be cloudy, though, which makes for a better sunset.”
They ordered room service and decided that they would dress up so that they wouldn’t have to return to the room before their meeting. That way they could explore the beautiful colonial city with its charming cobble stones and ancient stone streets without returning to their suite to change.
Susana said, “We should all dress in the same color and stand out with our blonde, red, and brunette hair.” Susana suggested they all wear pink.
Rebe thought that was too girlie, and she had brought only black clothing.
Bekka, who also preferred black, did have different colored sun dresses for her trip to Mexico.
Susana was a peacock, and everything she owned was in vibrant colors. She could not share her clothes because she was a tiny little thing.
Rebe and Bekka wore the same size, so Bekka picked out two pink sundresses for each of them and said, “Yes, we will turn everyone’s heads in town, especially Demetrio’s, when we walk up the stairs this evening to the Luna.”
Susana nodded in approval and suggested that they should arrive early to be waiting for him, or come a few minutes late and shock him. 
Bekka said, “Late would be better,” and suggested, “Let’s be a few minutes late; there’s only one staircase, so he can’t escape. But if he walks in and sees us, he may walk out before we’ve had a chance to talk to him.”
“Yes, perfect, because in Mexico people tend to be late anyway, so he’ll wait at least 15 minutes before he leaves,” Rebe added.
The Rosewood was situated next to the beautiful Parque Juarez. The concierge suggested that they start their walk there to enjoy all the native plants and the shade of the trees to protect them from the hot sun.
It was already approaching mid-day by the time they had finished lunch, showered, and donned their girly dresses.
“There are no words for how stupid I feel in this dress,” said Rebe, watching as her pink dress billowed in the breeze. “I just like my jeans, a white or black t-shirt, and my leather boots. Damn it, I feel like I’m in a historical play. Maybe we should get parasols too or some frilly white shoulder thingy things. You know, like those half-sweater thingy things women are wearing.”
“I think you mean ‘shrugs’ for women who have reason to hide their upper arms, and we don’t have to,” Bekka explained.
Then Susana said, “I like our outfits today – puts me in a romantic mood, and I also like that we kind of match.”
The three admired the trees and plants in the “parque;” the Jacaranda trees were in full bloom, and before long, each woman became further adorned with the light purple flowers that fell from the trees like a gentle rain. Susana, although sneezing because of the plants, spun around slowly and gracefully to see everything. “I feel like we are walking through an enchanted Disney Land kind of place – just look at how beautiful everything is.”
A group of children approached them, perhaps looking for a peso, but stopped immediately when the women turned to look at them. The eldest of the children started yelling something, and the little group dispersed, running in every direction, but the eldest stood his ground, watching.
Rebe read his thoughts, “Brujas, these women are brujas,” and she sensed the fear behind his hard stare. She assured him that they were not brujas.
He hadn’t said anything out loud, so why was the dark-haired woman telling him they weren’t brujas? “She must have read my mind,” he thought. Then he sent another thought, “If you can read my mind, you must be a bruja, no?”
The brunette sent the word, “No” into the mind of the boy. Then, “We are nice ladies. Can you show us the way to Centro?”
The boy’s dilemma played out across his face. The women seemed nice, and they might give him a propina if he showed them the way, and he didn’t want to make them angry just in case they were really brujas. He smiled and nodded, then started walking towards Centro, motioning them to follow him.
They followed the boy the few blocks to the Jardin Principal and the Parroquia de San Miguel Archangel. The boy sent mind messages to Rebe, all the while telling her about his friends, about the town, and his family. When they reached the central jardin, his mind went to a much-hoped-for propina; then he tried to shut that image out of his mind – embarrassed and frightened to be asking a bruja for money.
Rebe laughed and handed him 100 pesos so he could buy himself a treat. He told them that there was no reason to go any further than one block in any direction from the jardin. There was much to see in that small area and plenty of cafes, galleries, and cantinas.
Rebe felt a bond of affection develop between herself and the boy. In the few blocks they had walked, he had told her many stories of his life. In his mind, he was the prince of his own kingdom in his colonia. His pride of position was palpable and adorable, so she didn’t laugh. He was at that magical age when one knows enough about history to take ideas of glory and honor to heart and transform those ideas into modes of behavior – behaviors that would probably be transferred in a few years to gangs, or the army, or narco-traficantes, or Pemex.
She formed an image in her mind of Demetrio, and the boy nodded, yes, he knew of Demetrio. Many people were afraid of the man; he didn’t know why. She sent him off with the money and a wave. He moved off towards his home area as the ladies made themselves comfortable at a sidewalk café around the jardin.
Rebe told them about the wordless exchanges with the boy.
“I thought it was strange that you weren’t mediating between Susana and myself,” said Bekka. “Susana was so wrong about so much in such a short time; it was almost as fascinating as your story of mind reading with this boy. Hey, tell me what I am thinking right now. Read my mind.”
Bekka threw an image forward of falling down stairs, tumbling, twisting, turning in pain, and landing at the bottom of a staircase looking up at a man.
Rebe said, “That must have hurt. I think I could tell you where it hurt the most; it’s almost as though I could feel what you felt. Who was that guy, the one at the top of the staircase?”
“Wow, this mind-reading shit is getting serious, Rebe. Maybe it works easier with children because their minds are more open, but you’ve been hearing Susana’s thoughts since the day before yesterday. When we meet Demetrio, will you spy on his mind?”
Rebe replied, “Of course I’ll do it, if I can. So who was that man in your image?”
“Let’s not talk about it right now. Let’s do something pleasant. There seem to be a lot of art galleries – maybe we should pop into a couple of them.”
Susana agreed, so after their coffee, the three spent their time looking at art from gallery to gallery. They could have spent days doing that very thing, so many and so varied were the galleries.
Bekka stopped at a gallery featuring one of her favorite artists, Sergio Bustamante. As she was admiring a whimsical piece, a man approached her to discuss the details of it. He said his name was Jack, and he was from Texas, and he wanted more than anything to take Bekka to dinner.
Bekka politely declined, saying she was staying at the Rosewood visiting a man, but Jack persisted to an annoying degree until Susana cut in, “You’re becoming annoying Jack. She said ‘no.’ Can you leave it at that?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, as his cheeks turned pink. “I don’t know what came over me. How embarrassing. May I offer you this piece of art to make up for my behavior? You don’t even have to see me again – just let me give you something to treasure and make you think of me.”
Bekka refused the gift; it was far too expensive. He offered something smaller and begged her to take it and to think of him whenever she looked at it, and then he gave her the option of choosing whatever she wanted from the gallery.
Susana said, “I think it would make him happy if you would just take something Bekka. Could you just do it so we can leave?”
Bekka chose an intricately designed small pendant.
“That’s a perfect choice for you,” Jack said. “The emeralds will look great with your hair.”
As he wrapped the gift, Bekka asked Rebe to read his mind. Rebe tried, but there was nothing there except an intense whirlwind. He was having a mind storm, literally. There was nothing coherent to grab onto, nothing to work with, just intensity. It almost hurt to see it. Rebe was explaining this to Bekka when Jack handed her the present.
Bekka said, “You may change your mind about this. If so, just notify me through the Rosewood, and I’ll return it to you. I will think of you whenever I wear this.”
“Oh, that’s the point! I’m so happy you chose something. I was afraid I had been a bit too aggressive, but when a woman like you walks into my gallery, I just... wait, no woman like you has ever walked into this gallery. Do you mind if I take a photo with you?”
Bekka smiled, “Maybe next time, but it might not be appropriate at this point. You understand that I am in this town to meet another man, right? You entirely understand that, right?”
He nodded in agreement, “A man can dream, though.”
They left the gallery and noticed the sun was beginning to set, so they made their way back to the hotel. There were so many shops to explore, so many things to see, and they were looking forward to walking around town again the next day.
Bekka made mental notes of all the fine dining places as she passed them and wondered about their menus when Susana interrupted her thoughts by saying, “That necklace you chose was 11,000 pesos Bekka; that’s like 1,000 dollars. I’m still confused as to what exactly happened back there.”
“The prices were in U.S. dollars, Susana,” said Rebe, “I checked. I think they are in dollars because of tourists. That’s a lot of money to make in 30 minutes Bekka, and I am still confused too.”
“Don’t ask me,” said Bekka. “I mean, guys give me a lot of things, but this wasn’t normal. I don’t feel bad about it, though. I told him I would give it back if he wanted it back, and it seemed to make him happy to give it to me, so I refuse to feel guilty. Stop looking at me like I’m guilty. You were both there; you saw what happened.”
Susana said, “I’m utterly amazed and jealous, Bekka. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty at all.”
“Me either,” said Rebe. “It’s good that you took the gift from him. It made him happy. You just feel guilty about it because of the cost. If he snaps out of whatever he snapped into, he’ll ask for it back. Oh, my God, maybe he just wanted you to tell him where we were staying. I couldn’t see what was in his head to know what he was thinking; it was like a scary storm with tornadoes within tornadoes.”
Bekka asked, “Was there a little dog named Toto blowing around and a smashed witch in those tornadoes? Because I have a feeling we aren’t in Kansas anymore.”
Rebe laughed and said, “Yes, I distinctly saw them. Actually I only saw the witch’s feet sticking out from under the house. She was a flash-dancing witch wearing striped legwarmers.”
As they entered the Rosewood, they went straight to the public lounge to freshen their makeup before going to the Luna to meet Demetrio. While the three of them were sharing the same mirror, Bekka noted that she had never had so many freckles even though she was still using her bleaching cream, and Rebe noted that she had never been so tan.
Susana laughed and said, “I’m tan too even though I wore a lot of sunscreen, but I kind of like it. We look healthier than we did a few days ago; maybe we have found the fountain of youth. By the way, did either of you notice how many beautiful women there are in this town? Every one of them is drop-dead gorgeous. I thought we were in Los Angeles for a minute. And those shoes, my God, how can women wear five-inch, come-fuck-me heels and still walk on those cobblestones? Also, Bekka, why does your lover-man need to use a dating site to meet women elsewhere when there are so many here? I didn’t see one handsome man today, but I did see about 2,000 super-models. I am beginning to develop an inferiority complex after just one day in this town.”
“Yes,” said Rebe, “I think that even Bekka might have an inferiority complex when Jack comes to get his gift back, and let’s hope he doesn’t come while we are meeting Demetrio.”
They laughed and then laughed some more because they were laughing, and then they couldn’t stop laughing. Finally Susana snorted out, “Maybe Demetrio leaves San Miguel de Allende to date other women because he doesn’t want to shit in his own backyard. That makes sense, right? Besides, nothing really matters; this is just an adventure. We will all laugh about this later when we’re back in California.”
Bekka looked sad and said she no longer had a life in the Baja. Rebe then said that she hated her job and could live anywhere. Susana thought that they were each so similar. 
Bekka said, “Maybe you’re right, but San Miguel de Allende seems big enough for a man to date without problems. I think that he’s probably a werewolf or vampire, and he has to hunt in distant fields so that the villagers don’t gather to kill him with pitchforks and torches.”
“I think I have the answer, Bekka,” said Rebe. “He’s afraid of the fathers of the daughters he seduces. He probably turns them into female werewolves who do his every bidding. What would you call a female werewolf? A were cat?”
“Are you really a professor, Rebe?” Bekka asked. “Really? I don’t think so, because a professor would know that Werewolves come in both sexes and are called the same thing. This is common knowledge since the True Blood series came out and explained it all.”
“Oh my, you’re right. I haven’t been keeping up on my research. I’ve been too busy thinking about ancient Greek verb forms. Anyway, I think he would be a pussy to live in fear of torches and pitchforks and fathers. You need a man who is fearless and strong enough to fight off all the guys who are intoxicated by you. It must be such a drag to date you – seriously, always having to worry that you’ll run off with the next guy who gives you an 11,000 dollar necklace.”
“Rebe, you have no idea how extremely monogamous I am,” Bekka responded with authority in her voice. “I am, seriously. I don’t stray if I say I won’t, and I don’t date another woman’s man, ever. I do like to flirt, but I never cheat. I have some pretty rigid rules about such things.”
Susana immediately cut in and asked, “As rigid as your road-trip rules?” 
Bekka replied, “Yes, more so.” 
The three looked themselves over in the mirror before leaving to meet Demetrio. Not bad, they all thought; we look pretty good. Susana then asked, “Okay Angels, are you ready to go kick some ass?”
Bekka said, “Demetrio’s Angels! That’s what we’ll call ourselves.”
Demetrio was sitting at a table from which he could see the staircase. He was idly staring at it and wondering what he was doing there. There had not been any need to let this new woman from Corazon.com know that he lived in San Miguel de Allende; he was not hungry and did not need to feed and did not plan on getting into any relationship whatsoever.
He was still unnerved by the red-head from Puerto Vallarta; she was driving him to distraction. He reasoned that if he met some other pleasant woman, he could calm his desire and get back to his normal life. He reflected, with dissatisfaction, on his “normal life” that consisted of pining away for a woman who would no longer have him and making dates with women to whom he would never commit.
Not with Rose so close. She was a mere three hours from here now. She could call him to her at any moment, and he had to be ready to prove himself to her, to prove his fidelity, and his undying love. What if she called on him now? He could no longer call himself faithful.
He had reasoned that other men might lie about such things, but that was not an option for him. He was just not a liar. In hundreds of years, he had never been in a position in which he had to sacrifice his personal honor like a common thief to reach a goal or hide an action. He was who he was, and that was enough.
He thought about the red-head again. Yes, he was a man as well. A man given to great passion; the strain of the last two hundred years of fidelity to an absent woman who still hated him had finally gotten to him. Women had desired him, this he knew, and he could have lived a more amorous life. The idea both repelled and intrigued him.
He had been a bit of a ladies’ man before he met Rose, but in one moment, that first moment of eye contact with her, he was done. Her innocence had appealed to him, her modesty, and her beauty. He had known from that first moment that she was made for him. He recalled her red hair shining vibrantly in the afternoon light and recalled too the half-smile given under lowered eyes – a shy smile – and his heart broke all over again.
Those were tumultuous times in this town, and she had needed his protection even though she had not realized it. He should have taken her away because he had known that the latent discontent in the colony was stirring; he should have been able to see what was coming. He had seen such things before, often enough to know that there is a pattern to them. He should have taken her anywhere to avoid the violent response against the uprising, but he did not, and he asked himself every day why he had not acted, why he had not fled with her to his other home in New Orleans.
His best guess was that she had wanted to stay. They both had wanted to help Hildago, and he was tired of running and strong enough, with her by his side, to face anything. He did not want to be a coward in her eyes. The ancient Greeks had identified this cycle thousands of years earlier, the “hubris-nemesis” cycle, and righteous punishment for violent arrogance. His arrogance had put her in harm’s way. Demetrio was thinking these thoughts as he watched the staircase waiting for his date.
Suddenly a blonde, a red-head, and a brunette walked up the stairs. He thought first, “How lovely they are,” and then, as he realized who they were, “how can this be? These women did not know each other in Puerto Vallarta. Why would they be here together now?” They walked towards him, and he thought to himself: “They cannot remember me; I always remove any memory of me after I drink their blood.”
Yet here they were standing in front of him and staring into his eyes, each silent as if waiting for the other to speak; they seemed like one woman with three aspects. Suddenly they all said at the same time, “We need answers to so many questions.”
He recovered himself gracefully and motioned for them to sit, “I have to meet someone here to excuse myself from an obligation, and then we should all go to my house because what we need to discuss is not for public ears.”
Bekka told him that the woman he was supposed to meet was not going to show – that she had made up her profile – so they could all leave right now.
Demetrio laughed, delighted at the sound of her voice and her cunning act of deceit and said, “Truly woman, your voice is music to my ears. Let me look at you.”
Bekka did a flirtatious, slow pirouette while Rebe leaned against the wall, and Susana stood with her hands on her hips, impatient and intolerant of any bullshit.
Demetrio just stared at Bekka, “The sight of you brings me to life, you lovely creature.”
“Yada, yada, yada,” said Susana, “Let’s cut the crap. Just answer our questions.”
“Susana, let them have a moment at least,” said Rebe, appreciating Demetrio’s attraction to Bekka.
It was almost a tangible thing, rarely seen, and fascinating to observe. His dark eyes were practically glowing as he watched her. Then he rose and put his arm out for her, and she walked at his side down the staircase then slowly through the lobby to the winding cobblestone roads until they reached a beautiful colonial home, hundreds of years old, attached to the Parroquia near the jardin.
As they walked, Rebe tried to see inside Demetrio’s mind, tried to see if there were tornadoes whirling around in place of solid thought, but Demetrio turned to her and said, “No, and no.”
Rebe took that to mean she should stop trying to read his mind and that he wasn’t under some crazy enchantment.
As soon as they entered his parlor, which was the size of a ballroom, they began talking at the same time, a babel of words he could not follow, so he asked them to please slow down. He then went to the bar and poured them each a drink. He remembered their preferences – a mango margarita, a cold beer, and a glass of white wine.
As he handed Bekka her wine, he thought to himself that she was even more beautiful than he remembered, and the feelings he experienced that night began to return, feelings he had not had since Rose.
Such were his thoughts when Rebe began telling him that they did not understand what had happened after they had met him, and that they were drawn to each other as if they had always belonged together. She then told him that they sought the sun and avoided the night, and she told him about her telepathy and Jack’s enchantment with Bekka earlier that day.
As she continued her examples of baffling behavior, his eyes widened and filled with something close to fear. He was wondering if he had actually turned them to the light, but if so, how?  He thought about Rose, and how much she hated him for what he had done, and then he looked at Bekka. He was always careful to drink only a little bit of blood, certainly not enough to turn anyone, so what was happening here? Then he remembered the lustful feelings he had for Bekka and the urge for more of her blood.
Then he recalled how he had satisfied that urge by drinking from the other two. He must have had too much to drink, but he knew it was not nearly as much as he had taken from Rose to bring her back to life. Not nearly that much. He told himself that it was not possible, under the circumstances, that he had turned any of these three women – yet there they were, eagerly awaiting answers he did not have.
Then another thought came to him, “If I have turned these three, then what about all the others over the years? Are there White Vampires running around Mexico and the U.S. not knowing what had happened to them?” That could not be possible. A creator should feel his creations, just as the created feels its creator.
He then went into Rebe’s head to see what he could find. But Rebe knew what he was doing and fought him and demanded that he talk to them all at the same time, as if they were one person.
His eyes quickly turned away from the strong one and entered the minds of the other two, and within a flash of a second, he knew each of their experiences since he had last seen them.
This was going to be an interesting and painful evening. He thought about how he was going to tell them what had happened since he, himself, was at a loss as to the details and uncertain as to the veracity of his conclusions.
He said, “Let’s just talk...” (chatting with them about their lives would be the best he could do this evening). He thought for a second and added, “...about ourselves this evening and have a relaxing time in conversation. I am not quite sure what has happened, but please know I never meant to cause you any pain. Before we begin discussing your lives, let me tell you a full moon is coming in five days, and if you had not found me, there is every chance that you would have died from it. The next few nights, you may feel weak and unhealthy if you are out at night, even out during the evening when the rays of the moon are mixed with the dying rays of the sun. Stick to going about in the day. I do not want to say any more about these things right now, but I do want to hear about you three.”
The three stood there staring at Demetrio. Susana was close to rage and demanded that he explain everything to them right then and there, “You owe us an explanation, and I want one right now!” She snarled out the last few words, as though possessed by a demon, in spite of her little stature and cuteness.
Bekka and Rebe both felt a nauseating nervousness wash over them. Bekka, unconsciously, moved herself between Demetrio and Susana as Rebe watched with interest.
Mustering all her mental resources, she sent a silent message to Bekka, “Which one of them are you planning to protect?”
Bekka looked at Rebe and shrugged her shoulders, sending a clear message, “I don’t know what I am going to do.”
Rebe thought about it. At this moment, it seemed that Susana was going to spring like a cat onto Demetrio and rip his heart out. It would be better for all of them if Susana would set her anger aside for now, but if she was unable to do so, Rebe knew that she would stand with her. It wasn’t a rational choice, just knowledge.
“Susana, calm down.” said Rebe. “Give the guy a break; he obviously doesn’t know what’s going on, and he’s upset about all of this as well. I’m not sure he can give us a rational explanation without thinking it over first. Why don’t we just hang out and talk for now?”
“Because, I want to know what’s happening, that’s why.”
Rebe asked her, “Is tomorrow soon enough? Can we just enjoy this time together? Here’s a nice cold beer with your name on it.” Rebe picked up the cold beer and offered it to Susana; as Rebe extended her hand, Rebe noticed she was shaking.
Susana noticed it too and immediately softened. She took the beer gently from Rebe’s shaking outstretched hand and said, “Okay Rebe, I don’t want to upset you. I’m just tired of wondering what the hell is going on.”
Everyone relaxed a bit after Susana’s statement, and the four chatted together and shared drinks, discussing their lives, Mexico, and the history of San Miguel de Allende until the sun rose over the hills.
Demetrio then walked them back to the Rosewood and told them to pack and to return to his house for breakfast. He looked at them and said, “I’ll prepare the chapel for the three of you to stay with me, and I will tell you everything later today.”






http://www.coleccionsergiobustamante.com.mx/

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Book 1 & 2 of the 3 book series.




Our cover painting for book 1 of 3 was made by E.c. Bell. You can see his work on his facebook page with same name. Judith Jenya will do a photograph of it for the book cover designer and then we will auction the painting off for a woman's charity in San Miguel de Allende at our book signing. You can see Judith's work also on her faceook page of the same name.

There is another chapter in this blog with a sample read of Chapter 1 - Book 1.
 Our book summary of book 1:



On a visit to Mexico a mature American woman, Bekka, meets a mysterious silver-haired Mexican man at a nightclub in Puerto Vallarta. After an intense one-night liaison he vanishes and Bekka vows to find him again. In her search she discovers that he met two other women that night, Rebe and Susana. The three women become very quick friends and decide to track down this mysterious man. Bekka felt an emotional and spiritual connection to him, he belonged to her, and she wanted to be with him. She couldn't explain why she felt that way, and Rebe and Susana couldn't figure out why they felt so close to Bekka. The three ladies begin to experience strange dreams and feelings toward each other, a drawing of souls toward one another. They hatch a plot to meet him again, unknowingly throwing themselves into a new beautiful but dark world, a world that few know exists. - the complex and inflexible world of the vampire, or vampiro. Demetrio, as they discovered, was different than other vampires. He could walk in the day, and he could age. He was “A Child of the Light” - a White Vampire whose only weakness was the full moon and only protection was the beautiful pendant he wore. Bekka had hoped to be with him, but as much as he wanted to explore that possibility, he told her the truth - his heart belonged to another and that other had returned to Mexico. He was anxious to reunite with her and had to leave the three women in San Miguel de Allende under the protection of his faithful friend Sister Helga. The Sister would help the three discover their emerging powers and advise them about many future dangers that converged around one name, the one name that would toss their lives into a deeper dark hole - Rose

You can now buy our book as a paper back via this link on Amazon.

http://www.amazon.com/Tres-Vampiras-1-Bekka-Fass/dp/152277341X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1455729365&sr=1-1&keywords=Tres+Vampiras


A video interview about our book.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDl33Rh_5dc

A video of a book signing in 2015

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-syttXrJy5c

Videos made at our book signing March 20, 2016

Interview of Rebecca Fass https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7Lkdmu5vDs

Videos of the first book signing in San Miguel de Allende for book1:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4zWWySknOk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Rz1tj5jDQ4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMNAxoX_ddY


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIK3euR5w1A


Book 2 of 3 is done now & you can buy it as a kindle or hard copy at this link -----

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XWVWCJH/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1490712161&sr=8-3&keywords=tres+vampiras





Tres Vampiras is a series of 3 books. A historical fiction, travelogue and gourmet expedition set in the Corazon de Mexico (the heart of Mexico), San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato. In book 1 we met Bekka, Susanna and Rebe, three women who are bitten by a White Vampire named Demetrio.
A White Vampire has the ability to roan during the day, and only needs a cupful of blood each month. His only weakness was the full moon. He was able to withstand death during the full moon because of the necklace he wore. As the story unfolds, the necklace was taken from him by Rose when she took his heart out in a ritual sacrifice.
In book 1 the three women were left alone to deal with Rose and her evil lover, the night vampire Queen Itza. With the help of Demetrio’s servants, Sister Helga, Eduardo, and friend Julia, the three learned what it meant to be White Vampires and to use their powers.
Their adventures continue in Book 2. Bekka, Susana and Rebe visit San Diego, La Jolla, Fresno, Rosarito, and Juarez. They use their powers to gain revenge on old adversaries. While in their quest for vengeance they encounter many mysterious figures that are in a war between good and evil and the church’s involvement.
On their journey they meet Johnny, a brujo who kills cats and young women, Anna, another White Vampire Demetrio had bitten, Mr. Dark, the Vampire King of North America, and finally Rose.
The women also come to grips with feelings and urges toward each other; while Susanna and Eduardo deal with their feelings toward each other.
Read Tres Vampiras book 2 and find out what they learn about Bekka’s shocking condition,  and the book’s surprising ending. Book 2 contains everything you want in a book; sex, violence and great cooking recipes!


Tres Vampiras
 Book II of III
Rebecca Fass
 Demetrio Aldana

We would like to thank our families and friends who have encouraged us to write this trilogy. We would also like to thank our friends who asked us to use their names, personalities or businesses in our narrative. Sharon Griffin, who did the final  proof reading and co-authored chapter 13, Susana Cox a character in our book who has gone out of her way with helping our book signings.

(Book 1 Kathleen Carroll who was our proof reader.)