Romeo and Juliet Set Free: Vampire Romance William Shakespeare Revamped: Love at First Bite, #1

By Christina J. Easley and C. Free man

This is the beginning of love at first bite. The classic Williams Shakespeare story of Romeo and Juliet has been revamped. The vampires Romeo and Juliet have the freedom to love!  They were set free from the tradition of hatred that used to keep the Montagues and Capulets apart.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Free-lance Es sex
• Release date: Jan 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215730478

Christina J. Easley

Look at the various other vampire romance books this author has written.  The vampire romance books are available in paperback and e-book format.  

Book preview

Introduction:

This is the beginning of love at first bite. The vampires Romeo and Juliet have the freedom to love!  They were set free from the tradition of hatred that used to keep the Montagues and Capulets apart.  The play was called, Romeo and Juliet the Vampires of Verona. It has been sealed inside the vampire vault for many centuries. The play has never been released.  The Queen Elisabeth 1st was not however appeased. The property of the vampire vault was seized.  Production of the play ceased, when found that all the actors were vampires and deceased. The author of this vampire version wanted his vision to be seen, by the chosen few. This play was intended only for the vampire descendants to view.  If you read it, he would be pleased! 

Prologue:

Two households, both Montague and Capulet were similar and dignified. They lived in the fair and prosperous Village of Verona where we begin.  Verona is where we start our scene. Where civil blood makes civil hands clean. The bad blood between the two opposing vampire families flowed through their veins. This bad blood caused an endless urgency for violence. Romeo and Juliet had to form an alliance. From forth the fatal loins of those two foes, a rivalry wrought (between the two opposing households). There was a rift. Their romp and ruckus did rile revealing the fangs of the vile. 

A pair of star-crossed lovers, destined for disaster, takes their life; whose misadventures and conflict, with their death-marked love bury their parent’s strife.  The death of their children could not remove the rage the two opposing households held for each other ready to engage.  Ancient vampire venom was unleashed from a cage, which are the contents of this page...

The Will of the Vampires of Verona

Yes, who goes there?

It is I, the messenger of from the Queen Elizabeth, her will be done! She summons you to lend her your eyes Will, as well as your great wit and compassion. You must bestow upon us yet another of your plays William Shakespeare.

Ah, I was in the midst of the creative spirit just as you interrupted.  There were players aroused in my memory and a stage lit with villainy, gallantry, and tyranny!

Splendid, Will, go on to tell...

Well, you see there were these two opposing households who held an ancient grudge against each other, but as fate would have it a young gentleman and a young maiden from each family falls into a faithful union, but end their love in death!

Well, what is this spilled across your writing desk Will, it looks like blood?

Ah, blood, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean...blood that swells the heart ties the two lovers together but warring ancestors spills the blood in the streets of their desire and boils their blood tearing them apart while destroying an empire.

Blood...

Yes, the taste, the savor, the scent and ranker of blood, my good messenger...blood!

Will, the Queen Elizabeth of the house of Tudor would be well acquainted with the idea of bloody warfare, her own household, graced those with names as bloody and marry, as the turbulence you speak of in your plays!

Ah, the blood of war is one thing, the blood of lust and flavor of another’s flesh is yet to be discovered.  Tell the Queen I will meet with her as she requests and deliver a new play but first there is something I must uncover, someplace I must journey to alone, the origin of both good and evil, love and hate and the boundaries drawn between them at heaven and hell’s gate!

Oh, Will you talk of that blood drinker’s obsession you have with what they call strigoi, or the Greek (vrykolkas) vampires of the ancient worlds.  Do you think you could seek more tales of vampires if you enquired far and wide?

Yes, my dear messenger boy, I seek far and wide for the truth about the lust for blood and the blood of ancient ancestors, said to be kin to these blood drinkers...vampires.

"Ah, this is cultural warfare that we are fighting here dear Shakespeare. Queen Elizabeth wants to be remembered, and civilize the world over with her own form of English.  You are English to the world, Will.  The Queen has enlisted you to compete with the other cultural interests and languages. 

You are the voice and words that wonder through the minds of the English-speaking consciousness. So, give those Italian operas and Spanish sonatas a go, with a good English play to grace our stages, haunt our hearts, and dizzy our heads instead!  Give us something to last long after you, dear Will, are dead."

As the messenger boy delivered the invitation he had laughed with Will as if they were familiar consorts.  In deed William would have to go to have an audience with the Queen soon and she would then be presented with his new play.  This new play for the English masses would be filled with love and love lost, death, and tragedy.

Morning donned a scarlet robe. Sunlight was draped across the sky at dawn.  Dark met its demise as the sun, sought a place to rise.  Will poured himself the first cup lit (couplet) with red wine and blood. The sunrays cut razor sharp tears into the tender flesh of the air and bled crimson tears over all below as the wind bellowed. 

Now his will would be done as Will, rose like a don of Stratford-Upon Avon with the rising of the sun. He moved upon (a pawn) Avon as if he could rule and become like a queen!  The sun had now won its battle with the resilient armies of shadow. A battle between good and evil was raging. Now they had marched across the sky as the darkness died. 

Upon this waking hour a rook (crow) cried and the horizon seemed like a great face opening its eyes. Will was searching relentlessly for the subject of his next play. With a pun and his pen, he would begin. As he opened his eyes, the Queen would call him to rise. 

Now Will sat down to his usual writing desk.  He searched ravenously for his quill pen beneath the folds of the tussled sheets.  He had fancied many fantasies, both faithful and fatal the night before.  Now he would try and capture the ideas and images of his restless nights of both nightmarish horror and unparalleled beauty on the page then onto the stage:

In the prosperous and promising village of Verona the wind whispered in off the seashore of the Mediterranean.  The sun shone down on the laughing waves of the sea; in this season, the cycles of nature both death and life were unveiled. Both joy and strife were revealed as we begin, two tossed in the throes of love act in both sacrifice and sin.

Gregory a servant of the house of Capulet entered the tavern (the public place).  His massive shoulders cast a shadow across the corridor. He entered with a face of fierce force and fortitude that glowered as he towered over all.

(Gregory reminded many of the giant angels with flaming swords that guarded the gates of heaven and hell.)  Would there be bloodshed this morn, only time would tell? He trained his large intimidating eyes upon the enemies of his household. The Capulets upon which his stare fell were his foe. As he raised his thick dark eyebrows, he spoke with venom in him to the man that guarded his back, against sudden attacks, Sampson.

Sampson was of formidable size and stature.  He rumbled through the narrow space of the tavern with an air of arrogance and confidence.  Sampson reminded many of the strong man from ancient verse. His leering glare was cast upon the Capulets as they entered.  His rough chin of new beard and broad breast barreled through the tavern with a brutish and brawny bravado. 

He was brutal in his words and intentions.  He had sworn that he would have the head of any maid or man of the house of Capulet, on their heads his malice was let, as he drank from a Chalice of blood. The sight of the enemies of his master embroiled him and boiled his blood.  He would rather taste the blood of these Capulets than to see the red flow of crimson in the streets of dead men. Men stood like soldiers baring arms before them. The two servants from the house of Montague spoke of what their actions would be if only they met their enemy.

Gregory, I swear I would withstand the most aggravating insult and retorts from these Capulet sorts.  Their challenge would not arouse bad sentiment and cause me to act in sudden rage.

Sampson, I strike quickly being moved, with my sword drawn, and naked before the Capulet men I would be ready for confrontation!

He touched the tip of his nose and smiled. His companion shrugged his shoulders and let out a short handsome laugh.  The atmosphere had sifted to a subject of grave importance. 

"Gregory, if you don’t stand for anything, you become a coward and run away from everything in life that presents the slightest bit of danger or conflict. I don’t want to be remembered as a coward, scared to fight for my loyal household and master that has kept me fed and clothed for such a while.

My boss had given me a second chance at life and the house of Capulet is all that I know of life.  I am loyal! Without the house of Capulet, I would have not much of a life to live here in the streets, without a place to lay my head."

Yes, this strong discord is between our masters not their servants that we have never once had reason to hate as individuals. Our bosses have despised each other for many generations now and the reason for their malicious intentions has never been fully explained to us, Sampson.

When the two men spoke, there was some relaxation in the muscles in his shoulders. He raised well-arched dark eyebrow. Then there was a furrowed brow.  He scratched his head when there was perplexing predicament.

"I guess our swift willingness to fight all members of the house of Capulet proves that we are like trained attack dogs with fangs set to tear into all opposition to our masters or serpents quick to release their venom on both men and women. 

To start a fight with the Capulet men so vehemently, would only prove that you are a weak, poor tempered slave.  You want to take them to the wall, disgrace them, force them to take a position of less importance here.  What good would that do, what war would that rash and malicious action bring?"

That’s a good point Gregory, I would choose the weaker opponent and thrust them through to the wall, hard and fast!  Their weaker frail frames would be easier to suck, the fluid from.  I want to thrust Montague maids through with my sword, to show that I stand for my master, the man who feeds and clothes me well.

He wondered if the situation would ever change.  This was ultimately a battle between good and evil.  He placed his forefinger on his chin and pondered the possibilities.

The hatred is between our boss and his enemy, Montague. Does that mean we are to hate every member of the Montague household including their servants?

Yes, Gregory, they are all the same.  I will show them that I am no one to be confronted or insulted in any way.  I would take the head from their maidens and their maidenheads.  When I have finished with the men, I will be merciful with the women of Montague and cut off their heads to drink their blood. With my fangs bared and my sword drawn I will charge and thrust first, with you guarding my back ready to attack!

He walked away turning himself toward the darkness. Then he suddenly looked away seeming surprised.  He had a reply for that statement that would force the mind to ponder, the difference between right and wrong, good and evil.

Ah, you want the heads of the maids of Montague, Sampson? You would be ready to draw your naked sword and stand with your weapon, ready to fight, with your pretty flesh before them, ready to drink the blood of my enemy here in this tavern of torment!

Two men from the house of Montague entered the tavern, now it was time to put the talk to action.  Abram and Balthasar sauntered into the dimly lit pub.  Their massive frame and stalwart stature were staggering. The two men noticed the presence of the Capulet servants and were on the defensive for a formidable fight. 

Sampson and Gregory were contemplating what action to take.  They had decided to be on the offensive and confront the Montague men first, with their sword, their fangs, and their fists thrust upon the malicious men.

Abram and Balthasar took notice to the confrontation and saw the insult that was placed as a challenge before them.  Seemingly confused and frustrated as they thought the four of them may have fought.  Verona was a very small hamlet along the coast of the warm waters of the Mediterranean.  There were very few people in Verona that were not acquainted with each other. 

Everyone knew everyone else by name and appearance.  Furthermore, the maids of Montague were frequently associated with a particular style of dress and comportment.  The men of Montague were adorned in flowing red crimson, with their collar high around their neck while the men of the Capulet household were dressed in bright blue much of the time, with a particular pattern of blue and yellow stripes associated with the Capulet house. 

The Capulets wore their hair cut short and close to the scalp while the Montagues wore their hair dark, curly, and flowing to the shoulders, only fastened with a red scarf like a horse’s tail at the nape of the neck. The Capulets wore their collars loose and low cut (as to beckon the bite of any suspecting vampire prey).  Abram and Balthasar were curious to enquire about the challenge to battle the Capulet men that they had just met.

Do you wish to fight us?

I wish to fight and bite you upon the neck, where I would place a noose upon a nuisance.

He placed his hands on his back and loosened his shoulders.  As he contemplated a reply and sighed, he raised one eyebrow in surprise and frowned.  His remark would be well thought and spoken with confidence.

You are the callers, that are calling us out to brawl, placing a cold bloody collar around the neck of us all, as the battle rages only the evil ones will fall.

After much thought the articulation was not difficult and the ideas were not too hard to understand.  The words of a good statement were never completely true nor were they always false. The feeling of uncertainty was more likely than the air of failure or doubt.

I serve a better man than you do.  My master was not of the fallen angels that drank the blood of the women of earth and made many evil blood-drinking children. They made evil offspring women and men to rain torment and sin upon the earth.  That evil legacy is upon the house of Capulet, his bloodline bears the blood of the fallen angels that made evil offspring with the women of earth, Sampson!

You speak of my master; you know nothing of him or his greatness. The man I serve is greater than the master you serve and a man cannot serve two masters Abram!

He bit his lip pensively and seemed as if he was contemplating something of vast complexity.  Now he folded his hands as he prepared to make the next statement.  He began to blink and furrow his brow as his reply formed in his mind.

No, my master is much greater than your Capulet master— Sampson and Gregory!  I will prove it right here and now!

Sometimes the best reply was left to those who could understand both the most appealing aspects of right and wrong.  The words of a vampire were difficult to put together with swift thought and care.

My Capulet master is better than the Montague!  You lie Abram. I will do more than bite my thumb at you, I will bite the very vein of life that flows to your throat if you dare defy Capulet capability.

Soon two more men entered the tavern in the dim light of dusk. A Montague man entered the tavern adorned in the familiar Montague attire, Benvolio. Benvolio’s flowing Montague locks fluttered through the air like dark sinister wings upon his head.  His bold dark eyebrows furrowed with a frightful sort of frenzy as he flew to the fight fueled by fire and might. 

There would be blood to taste and savor by his saber tonight.  Then with fists bared and knuckles white the Montague did as few and showed his fangs to bite! The flickering air was filled with anger to ignite.  The two men Tybalt and Benvolio sent off sparks to light the tavern was filled with a blaze of anger so bold and bright. If one man would die at the hands of the other which dead man would be right?

They were both strapping young men of great size and stature.  One was a Montague and the other that came lumbering into the tavern filled with spirits was a Capulet called Tybalt darting and daring like a lightning bolt.  The Capulets were quick to quarrel!  Both Benvolio and Tybalt exchanged angry words in a whirl. Abram and Balthasar fought Gregory and Sampson.  Tybalt fought Benvolio.

Part, fools!  Put up your swords.  You don’t realize what you are doing, Gregory and Sampson!

Ah, a battle to the death...to the dearth of dignified dying men with masters, they are slaves and servants to their household.  We are loyal to a fault, biting their thumbs and your throats but never to bite the hand of the household that feeds them. But will we die dignified men?

The orator would form the words that would come straight away but the way the terms were used was planned to be caring and cruel. The vampire was understood to have duality, showing two sides good and evil and for the expression of such feelings that a human could never fully grasp.

I speak as a man of the house of Capulet.  You waste your time drawing your naked sword to challenge these cowards that may run and turn their heartless hinds before you.  Their blood boils and brews bastards and brawlers no better than chickens (hens left behind) in the roost.  We will see who will rule this roost with blood spilled and sucked like that of the babe from the breast of a beast. But I will silence these braggarts, and bath in their blood!  Turn now Benvolio and look upon your death!

He wanted to make a scathing reply but that type of rushed statement would be unwise.  He scratched his ear and sniffed the air in pause then made his thoughts known.

Ah, Tybalt blessed is the peacemaker, I do turn my back and keep the peace.  You will not get a piece of me tonight, Tybalt, man of Capulet.  Would you really let blood flow and come to blows just for the sake of a name (household) that you hold dear?

What— you have a drawn sword and talk of peace. I hate the word! I will not hear of it I will taste your blood tonight on the tip of my tongue with words mightier than the sword. I hate the word peace as I hate hell stand before me with your naked sword and fight Montague!

Soon the disturbance began to beckon the attention of some of the lawmen, officers of the town of Verona.  Some common spectators also became embroiled in the battle and interrupted with clubs and mace.  The audience of Verona citizens would no longer be debased and they stood with the officers of the Prince of the province to resolve this matter face to face. The officers and vigilantes had hoped to bring law and order to the tavern and leave both the troublesome Capulet and Montague men disgraced.

Strike, beat them down! Down with the Capulets and down with the Montagues.

He wondered if his words would ever be well spoken enough to warrant a reply.  As he pondered the possibilities, he looked away with an inexplicable emotion that seethed in his heart and mind.

The true bearers of the name Capulet entered the tavern to battle with sword and swift swearing, savoring the essence of blood blazing in the candlelight.  They swore that they would draw their swords and draw blood with their old Capulet fangs fierce in the frigid night. 

What is all of this noise? Give me my long sword, ho!  I stand with my sword, swift to slaughter, I also hate peace as I hate hell and hope that Montagues go to a place much hotter.

Why do you call for your sword?  Does not your blue blood cool your veins, Lord Capulet? You are like a caller getting hot under the collar.  The savor of blood from the saber is scarlet red and no other color.

He clutched his emotion in the palm of his hands like a sword.  His reply would be as painful and powerful as a punch or as pleasant and placid as a rose petal.  He grimaced at first then relaxed his nerves and made a remark.

I said give me my sword my Lady Capulet.  Let the blood flow forth, for Old Montague has come and (challenged me) in spite of me to bite me.

Soon Old Montague, the bearer of the dreaded enemy lineage entered with his wife.  His long flowing robes shone his vibrant and venomous Montague attire.  His wife entered with him with Old Capulet ready to stand beside him, dainty but daring in her bright Capulet blue striped dress, ready to see red.  The expression of rage was read and written across the face of Lady Capulet. She was ready to throw down the gauntlet. His thick, black, curly tendrils coiled about his broad shoulders. He declared battle upon the Old Capulet master.

My worst enemy, villain of Verona, Old Capulet, let me go!

Montague you will not set one foot forward to fight a foe, (me or my men) you must already know!

Now the band of brawlers was embroiled in a battle of blood and brutal brawn, the moon hung low and nearly captured the dawn.  The prince of Verona entered with the authority of the law.  His words and bared fangs bit, the wit of his words stung like venom and released a great demand of peace from within him.  The Prince wore a raiment that was befitting royalty and his slender muscular frame yielded not to Capulet nor Montague.  With his words his tongue slew many a Capulet and Montague, as he delivered his demand to maintain order and told both households what to do.

"Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace (Captain of the Capulet and Master of the Montague).  You turn this tavern to turmoil and take away what is good from this once peaceful neighborhood.  I ask you now to do what you should, acknowledge your peers, put away your swords and be still their fears.  I realize that peace is a painful word piercing like a sword through your ears, but I command you to listen.  Will you hear?

What ho, you men, you beast, I have said more about you than I should have to say, to say the least.  Your unquenched fire or vengeful rage, does not befit that of an Old Lord or a sage. I will demand that this fighting between Montague and Capulet end and all words ceased.  You have driven the servants of your household insane with loyalty released from a cage.  With fountains flowing from your veins, your words are like a deadly bane.  With Pain on your bloody hands, you suckle the blood in every living man.

Put down your weapons! Throw them to the ground until the civilized resolution to your fighting can be found.  Listen to the voice of reason and its sensible pleasant sound.  This is the third of your brawls and battles that was heard of the world round. 

You Montague and Capulet had disturbed the graves of the undead in Verona thrice, and their bodies’ rose cold as winter ice.  You have called the sleeping ancient vampires of Verona to rise with hate and misery in their eyes.  They rise from their crypts with ancient Verona vampires with hands as old and