Ever since I started the vampire portion of Devil May Care, in the green room of the theater where I was rehearsing and then doing Smoke and Mirrors, I meant for Johanna to have no vampirific powers at all. She was going to be scammed like there is no tomorrow.

Chris, my son, not any of the others, said I needed to give her at least the power to attract men. So I said okay and I decided that since one of her perceived problems is that she is fat, she was going to meet another vampire at the end of the story who was one of Botticelli's assistants or students (I was going to do some research, I swear) and he would be the guy who is attracted to her, the real her, not just something she exudes like a pitcher plant.

I have been so close to finishing this thing for some long. I've been on page 27 for a long time. I have a terrible time finishing things.

I meant for DTF to be four short stories all with one common element, that thug Bishop.

If I do four shorts that are all 30 pages long that's a two hour film.

So going by numbers alone I should be wrapping up Johanna's story.

I'm not entirely convinced that I have tortured her enough. Have I thrown big enough rocks at her?

So here I was tonight with Johanna still suffering from misinformation and she's walking down the street and I suddenly decided that she should walk right past the guy she's going to meet and hopefully fall for.

I started looking at Botticelli's work. Then I started thinking there are a million European vampires. Why couldn't her vampire be from Hawaii?

But all this time the man I was seeing in my head is a charming, dreaded, tall, gentleman of colour.

Why couldn’t he be from the West Indies? Could a former slave fall in love with a white chick?

I would have thought no if I hadn't played Mrs. Douglas ages ago. She was white and Frederick Douglas's mistress was also white. Now my character was his second wife and her family disowned her, but still, I have solid proof that this could work.

So I start poking around and I found this diary.

Ashton Warner, age 24, died in 1831. He is attractive and if he died young he could certainly be my vampire.

I plan to read his entire diary. It will be kind of funny if he gets like one line but you never know, someday he may have his own story.