Monday, March 09, 2009


Ladies and Gentlemen -- Welcome to "The Rosie Hughes Project."

It is a blog chain running Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. I get to start, then we're going round to various other participants for the following installments. If it doesn't wrap on the 21st, it will be back to me:

Wednesday, 3-11, Cathy Clamp:
Saturday, 3-14, Brad Sinor: .
Monday, 3-16, Sue Sinor: . They share a blog, but Sue will post separately.
Wednesday, 3-18, Rachel Caine:
Saturday, 3-21, Jackie Kessler:

Rules are fairly loose, but not loose enough to get us in trouble on public blogs. We can go humorous, or dark, or both. You just have to read and play along. Our villaness is the terrifying vampire Rosie Hughes.

AND WE'RE OFF: (Way off, but that's another story) ;)


Dear Morgana:

I do hope you are well and that your shoulder isn’t still giving you trouble. Damned crossbows anyway.

As you’ve probably guessed, I’m having to start anew. You were right to warn me about that investor. I suppose there is no fool like a (very, very) old fool. He’s in the limelight too much at the moment, but soon, very soon, I will do to him things that would make your dear little Marquis (how is he doing by the way?) blanch.

But enough of that. Exciting news! I’ve started a new venture and it’s going amazingly well. Cosmetics. That’s right darling. I stumbled onto the idea when I was out for a bite. Not only did the little tidbit show me a perfectly lovely fang whitener, she had sun block. For the first time in centuries I can actually go out before dusk. Well, of course I had to hear more! Lo and behold, by siring a mere ten, and enthralling a few dozen, I now have a sales force that works twenty-four hours a day. Who knew it could be so profitable? In next to no time I’ve earned the coveted "pink limo," (with driver) and have bought myself a perfectly lovely stucco home. You simply must fly by sometime. (You can’t miss it. Just look for the tasteful arrangement of flamingos around the pond.)

I know you worry, but you shouldn’t. One of those annoying teenage girls did pop by with her stakes, but I showed her a truly effective acne cream, and now she’s referring all of her friends. And there’s been no sign of any of the descendants of that hideous troll of a man. (What was his name dear? Van or Von something . . . Trapp? Beetho. . . no, that was the musician. Drat my memory. Well, you know who I mean.)

Please tell me you’ll come by return bat. It’s the perfect set-up. What could possibly go wrong?

Rosetta "Rosie" (Stone-Red-. . .) Hughes.

P.S. I’m enclosing a sample of the new night cream. My Renfe. . . Assistant, says it’s "to die for."

1 comment:

Suzette said...

I love how you started this off. Cant wait to read more.