Friday has arrived and the characters vying for the "my favorite vampire" title suck their way down the home stretch and toward the finish line.  Bunnicula, the Bunny who drains color from veggies, breaks away from the pack and hops into the lead.  Somewhere in the grandstand, his creator, James Howe, cheers.

But wait, the vampire squash from one of my own short stories now doubles its rolling speed.  Not to be outdone, Bram Stoker's Count Dracula shape-shifts into a bat and flaps his wings hard.  Squash and bat race neck and neck.  The distance between them and Bunnicula narrows.

And here comes Lestat and Mayor Navin Gruesome (star of "You Can't Bite City Hall").  My imaginary vampire friend from childhood fades into the mist.  A Venetian skull with a brick wedged between its jaws--the only entrant from nonfiction--clatters to the side of the track.

Who will triumph over the others?  What vampire and its tale will win?

The race ends in a photo finish.  Unfortunately, some vampires don't show up in photos.  Buffy the Vampire Lawyer (also from "You Can't Bite City Hall") declares the contest discriminatory, and thus, invalid.

I suppose I didn't need a favorite vampire.  I nibble on a white carrot.  I don't drink...blood.

Warm and chilling regards,

Laurel Anne Hill (http://www.laurelannehill.com)