CHAPTER FIVE

FIVE
David Belasco was probably as close a friend
as I have ever had among mortals. He was also my
theater mentor. What I learned from him about make
up, lighting, casting, the whole schlemiel, changed
my existence. He was probably the greatest genius in
American theater to date – playwright, impresario,
designer, theater owner, actor, director, producer – or
what was called a manager in his day.

CHAPTER FOUR

FOUR
I took a cab to the Belasco Theatre to check
on the progress of Pretty Lady. Rehearsal was just
breaking up. I was the recipient of smiles, kisses,
quick hugs, hellos and goodbyes as the cast and
chorus left the theater. Everyone seemed upbeat and
optimistic.
Normally, that would concern me with a show
this close to opening. I like my people to worry.
There’s nothing like worrying a show into existence to
give it a certain edge.

CHAPTER THREE

THREE
“You made Page Six today,” Patti announced as
she entered the living room of my brownstone. She
was wearing a cream color satin shift belted to match
her mid-thigh-length red leather coat. She knows I
love the color red on a woman. What she does not
know is how much I want her; or, if she suspects, she
has no idea of the way in which my desire would
manifest.

CHAPTER TWO

TWO
There is always someone in New York who
must be fooled. This time, again, it is Elaine, who
maintains the best saloon on the planet. This watering
hole is located at Eighty Eighth Street and Second
Avenue. I have been going there since she opened the
place, which coincided with my reincarnation, so to
speak, as Gus III. Toward the end of Gus III, Elaine
was complimenting me, if it can be called that, a little
too often.
“I don’t know how you always look so young,
Gus,” she would say.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

My name is Angus Windham IV. I was also
Angus Windham I, II and III. You can call me Gus. I
am a Broadway producer. I am also a vampire. These
are my private notes.

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE
I’ve been hacked. Or rather, my computer was hacked; apparently by another vampire, which is infuriating. At least, I must presume it is another vampire. I found this message on the screen when I turned on my laptop this evening:
Do not do this thing. Do not continue to write in this way. Writing something does not make it so. This is a warning. Stop now. Or you will be stopped. Others will be notified if you persist.
I am not certain how this is done, nor do I care to discover the mechanics. This is my answer:
Leave me alone, fool. You know that your threats are meaningless. Bring it on, as the saying goes. Do not think that you can stop me or harm me or make me falter in any way. You do not want to be part of my story. I promise you that.
I am the most powerful among us.
I hope you read this and consider it carefully. My writing is an exercise in amusing myself. Go away. Stop hacking me. Stop bothering me. You have nothing to gain and everything to lose. Did it occur to you that I might in fact be clearing my own head? Did you stop and think before insulting me with your attack on my privacy?
Your threats are meaningless. You do not frighten me. If you continue along this path, I will figure out who you are and I will come after you. Now you have been warned.
“Others will be notified if I persist” Oh really?
Well, here I am persisting. There is nothing you can do about it. Nothing. If you and any others dare come to me in person, I shall wreak such public havoc that the entire planet will be forced to take note of our existence. I welcome the battle. I welcome the chaos.