First of all, you might be asking, what does this even mean? Sundowning syndrome, or late-day confusion, is a very real, terrifying phenomenon experienced by folks with certain types of dementia. In the late afternoon/evening, patients become anxious, agitated, and sometimes combative. Not all dementia patients suffer this syndrome, but those that do can experience a completely changed personality and frighten their families who may not understand what’s happening. I’ve had several family members who have had dementia and Alzheimer’s and once I learned about this syndrome, it made their behaviors make more sense. There’s still a lot of work to be done—doctors aren’t sure what causes sundowning—but there are some treatments that can be helpful.
Sundowners began percolating in my mind in the summer of 2020 when we were all forced to accept that life was going to be different for a while. Most people I know were suffering, albeit for different reasons and at different levels of severity. One of the hardest hit groups affected by the pandemic has been our senior citizens. Many of them thought that “COVID is no big deal. We’ve been through this before. I remember standing in line to get my polio vaccine.” Those are just some of the things I heard from my many parental units. But then the news was so bleak, and I was terrified for them. I started thinking about ways we could reason with them, what we could do to help when they were isolated and beginning to show signs of decline.
I was also watching A METRIC F*CK-TON of TV and movies. Dear Lord! I started writing in 2009, and by 2012 when I finished my first book, I gave up all viewing for the most part. When my family was watching TV, I was writing. When my kids were at activities, I was writing. Now, though, TV became the escape I needed. I watched a lot of old favorites: Fright Night, The Lost Boys, Twilight Zone: The Movie… And there you have it. My influences tickled my brain until I started writing.
If you’ve seen Twilight Zone: The Movie, you may remember Scatman Crothers as Dick Halloran, the friendly new resident of a nursing home who brings a little magic with him. The seniors are coaxed into playing a nighttime game of “Kick The Can.” As a result, they are all transformed into younger versions of themselves. I was profoundly affected by this story, and when I created Nurse Creed, he became a Mr. Halloran-like character, one who inspires his patients, heals them, and gives them the energy they need to fight off the sundowning effects.
Depending on your current age and stage of life, you too may be thinking about what is coming, what is ahead. Maybe, like me, you’re also experiencing health issues that aren’t gonna get fixed anytime soon, and you just wish for some relief from pain and struggle. If Nurse Creed is out there, I know his patients are receiving that relief. I hope he’s around when I reach that stage of life. In the meantime, I’ll just keep making up stories in worlds that I create and control (and yes, I know control is an illusion).
I hope you’ll check out Sundowners. The book is loosely connected to my Gifted series, so if you enjoy it, maybe check out Healer and Connection. I plan to release #2 next year. Thanks for hanging out with me and Stay Tuned for more…
R.L. Merrill writes contemporary, paranormal, and supernatural tales to make you swoon and/or shiver. You can find her on social media, advocating for America’s youth, writing music reviews for HorrorAddicts.net, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned…
Vampire Creed Lowell drifts from town to town working with the elderly as a night nurse and looking to avenge his harrowing past. His youth and vitality make him a favorite of his patients and his gifts bring them peace. At long last he’s arrived in the place where he hopes to find the truth about those who betrayed him…but first he finds an unexpected love with a man who might understand him—or end him.
Grad student Roman San Angelo is struggling to handle his courses, teaching schedule, and research for his dissertation on an obscure cult. He spends every spare moment with his beloved yet demanding grandmother Frances who’s recently moved to an assisted living facility—and he’s fascinated by her night nurse, who is able to bring out the inner light which had faded during her battle with dementia. Something about Creed doesn’t add up, however, Roman finds himself fighting an undeniable attraction. His concerns multiply when Roman discovers a connection between Creed and a bizarre series of vampire-wannabe assaults in the area. A moment of weakness leads to a night of passion between them, and the promise of something more, and yet Roman can’t shake his concern that Creed is not what he seems.
Creed knows better than to bring a mortal into his world, even one who could help him find the link between the pack of violent vampires preying on the people of Santa Cruz and Creed’s past. When he discovers Creed’s secret, Roman is ready to step outside his comfort zone and accept everything a life with a vampire entails, and when Creed disappears, Roman will go to the ends of the earth to find the man who brought the light back to his grandmother and the warmth back to his own heart.
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What a relief! I smiled and leaned against the wall of my dingy hotel room. Thank goodness for excellent references. I inhaled the combination mildew/chlorine smell caused by the permanent dampness from the ocean and the indoor swimming pool below my room, glad . This was the break I needed, or my current accommodations would soon go from bad to worse.
“Thank you, yes. What time does the evening shift start?” I kept my fingers crossed while I waited for the answer.
“Six o’clock. Just come to the front desk and our evening supervisor will get you set up. Lexi’s great. She’ll show you the ropes.”
“Wonderful. Thank you for this opportunity.”
“We should be thanking you, Mr. Lowell. You’re overqualified for the position, and we’ve had a difficult time keeping our evening staff. I hope this works out for the both of us.”
I thanked Yvonne, the Human Resources director, once more before disconnecting. Then the victory dance commenced.
“Did you hear that, Rhonda? We’re in!”
My red Doberman rested her jaw on her paws and made an old lady noise, indicating that she’d rather be napping than dancing.
I would not be thwarted, however. I danced a West Side Story routine across the room to the kitchenette and reached into the fridge with panache. There was one last bag of A-positive that I’d been sipping on since arriving in Santa Cruz, and now I could finish it off since I’d have a steady supply in just two days’ time. Not that I needed much—especially not when I was working—but it was important to never let my energy stores deplete. It affected my judgement and my ability to do the work that was so desperately needed.
I did a spin and a box step before kicking my leg out, and throwing my arms back in a layout. Hopefully I’d find a patient who knew the old dances at Puesta Del Sol, my new place of employment. They were the most fun to work with.
I reached into my lone duffel bag, which contained seven sets of scrubs, a suit, three white t-shirts, a pair of jeans, a Harvard hoodie, two pairs of shoes, and a small photo album that contained cherished pictures of my parents and younger siblings. The rest of my belongings and resources were hidden in pre-paid storage facilities around the country for when I got desperate…or had to run.
My family was all gone now. My little sister was the last, and she’d passed away four months ago according to the hometown newspaper in Macon County, Georgia. I read every copy that I could get ahold of through the local libraries. The internet had been such a great invention. Even though I hadn’t been home in nearly forty years, I’d managed to keep tabs on everyone. They’d all lived mostly happy, satisfying lives and died of natural causes at advanced ages, which was the best I could have hoped for.
But now that I had no worry of repercussions for my family, I could finally seek out the truth.
Puesta Del Sol was hopefully the end of the line. The last assisted-living home where I’d worked in Albuquerque had led me here, to Santa Cruz, California. “Go west, young man,” turned out to be the advice I’d needed all along.
I was determined to find those responsible for sending me on this decades-long exile. It wouldn’t be long now. It was time to set things straight, and it seemed fitting to be back near where it all started.
March 2019
Two months later, the trail of promising leads had gone cold. Still, I loved my new life in California. I was surrounded by a competent and diverse staff at Puesta Del Sol that knew how to run a place of healing and hope with patients who were happy and well cared for. And I loved Santa Cruz. It was almost enough to make me consider letting go of the past.
What a great place for a guy like me. It was easy to fit into the college town that was also a magnet for transients, tourists, and folks who were followers of alternative lifestyles. Not only were there practitioners of Eastern religions and schools of thought, but also those who claimed to be creatures of the night, a holdover from the vampire craze that swept the area after a hit movie in the ’80s made them cool. I occasionally even found folks who didn’t mind a little role play.
My love of music meant I was a frequent guest of The Catalyst, a large music venue, bar, and eatery located downtown that drew fans from all over the Bay Area. One night they’d feature punk, the next rap, and sometimes even classic rock bands made their way to the club.
Tonight was a perfect opportunity to blend in as a lineup of alternative bands from the eighties was playing. I’d worn my black suit, skinny tie, and black Dr. Martens. I’d even slicked my dark auburn hair back and donned black eyeliner for the hell of it, the makeup highlighting my eyes, so blue they made people stop and stare. Of course, the rest of the package could also be to blame for that. My pale, freckled skin fit the role of a night walker perfectly to round out the look.
I made my way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a beer. A willing playmate soon appeared, and the game was on.
The young man, dressed in a velvet waistcoat and ruffled poet’s shirt, saw me approach the bar and immediately perked up. I took a swig of my beer and nodded at the Goth. When I moved away from the bar, I felt him at my back as I headed to a dark corner. Once there, I leaned against the wall and waited.
The young man approached with a sly smile, and I took it as an invitation. I reached for his shoulder, turned him around slowly, and pulled him back against my chest, enjoying the way his body fit against mine.
“I have your permission?” I whispered in the young man’s ear. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
The young man turned to face me and his eyes widened in surprise. “Here?”
I smiled at him and ran a finger down his neck, enjoying the way he shivered. The energy from his excitement would have been enough to nourish me, but I was feeling greedy tonight.
“Yeah, just um, be safe about it.”
I bathed him in a wave of calm. The manipulation of energy was effortless for me now. “You’re in good hands, my friend.” I turned him around and stopped him when he went to loosen his belt. “Relax, I’ve got you.”
I slid his long curly blond hair to the side. I had ways of making the experience pleasurable, so I poured energy into giving this guy one helluva good time, one he’d remember for years to come. He just wouldn’t remember that a vampire sank his teeth gently into his neck and took sustenance from his body.
Give unto them what they require.
Take only what you need to survive.
I would never forget what I’d been taught.
“Blessed be.”
After a few sips, I felt my playmate shudder against me and let out a satisfied moan. A few more pulls and his body tensed, gasped, and shuddered once more. It was nice to know I hadn’t lost my touch.
It had been a long time since I’d chanced feeding in public, but I felt safe here. Santa Cruz had welcomed me with open arms, and I wanted to stay.
The young man raised his arm and cupped the back of my head. He pressed his ass back against me, and I knew it was time to end this tryst.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his ear, and then pressed a kiss to his neck.
“I should be thanking you,” the guy said. “What’s your name?”
I disappeared into the crowd before the young man turned to look, and I was out of the club before he could wonder what happened.
I rarely drank blood—it was an infrequent need to maintain my existence as long as I had plenty of human energy to manipulate—and I always made sure my partner enjoyed it. But the act often left me feeling…empty. I worked hard to help others live a more satisfying life, and after all this time, I sometimes resented that I couldn’t pursue happiness of my own. I would have loved to take that young man home and enjoy more than just an Exchange. Someday I would find…someone. But not until it was safe. Not until I’d done what I came here to do.
“With a strong plot, an expertly crafted cast of supporting characters, and deep empathy, Merrill’s novel will keep readers hooked.” —Publishers Weekly review of Typhoon Toby.
Whether she’s writing contemporary romance featuring quirky and relatable characters or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after. Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, and a Foreword INDIES finalist for Summer of Hush, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after.
She writes diverse and inclusive romance, contributes paranormal hilarity to Robyn Peterman’s Magic and Mayhem Universe, and pens horror-inspired music reviews for HorrorAddicts.net.
You can find her connecting with readers on social media, advocating for America’s youth, raising two brilliant kids, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area!
Stay Tuned for more…
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