laboratory on the night of his birth, as I recall. Have I mentioned that I became his legal guardian after the unfortunate demise of Herr Doktor? Germanic villagers can be so unforgiving. Anyway, back to tonight, the Monster made a hasty and rather cowardly exit upon realising his mistake and left his two frosty Brides to hurl insults at each other. Things were getting tense when someone suggested the ladies should “take it outside” and poor Mealy Monster, being the largest and most imposing of my guests, was also dispatched into the night to act as referee. Now Mealy may be mighty but he is also rather timid, certainly no match for the two irate Franken-Frau... where are those villagers when you need them?

Happily the beautiful Lucrezia Borgia was also keen to help out as the guests began to arrive, electing to prepare the drinks. Ha ha, that little ring of hers was much in use and many of the guests remarked on the unusual flavour of  Lucrezia’s “special” cocktails, apparently an old Borgia family recipe. I, myself, have been poisoned by dear Lucy several times over the years, always a pleasure!

As the guests began to arrive, those who had chosen to partake of Nightshade hospitality began to get ready in their suites. It has always puzzled me how a woman can take so long to to prepare herself for a night of merriment and the worst offenders are definitely Witches. One could unkindly remark that their appearance and odour hardly benefits from the hours they seem to spend bathing! A familiar once remarked that he believed this fondness for soaking began back in the middle ages at the “Dunking Stool” when our beloved hags discovered their fondness for water, they do, indeed, float!

Beatrice’s arrival caused quite a stir, she took a wrong turn on her way through the wood and chanced upon some tiny children all decked up to “Trick or Treat” (a strange American custom inexplicably taking hold among the human population of late) and immediately thought to lead them up to Nightshade Hall. What a “Trick” on them and “Treat” for us - if only they had been human children! News of the surprise Beatrice had found in the wood  soon spread and everyone was eager to see this unexpected addition to the menu, when, surprise indeed, they popped off their costumes to reveal our own Clyde, Cecil & Izzie.  Sensing the disappointment, Clyde offered a few spare eyeballs to add to the stew... What fun!

All the excitement proved a little too much for some of the younger guests. One forgets that at that tender age they have yet to see a human! There was a scream, which begat a scream and so on until I could barely hear my guests think! Murina, the sweetheart, took the youngsters off to a deserted wing of the house and told bedtime stories. Nothing calms the Beastly Child’s night terrors like being told blood curdling tales on a drafty moonlit staircase while the wind taps branches at the pane and the voices of ancestors moan and wail through the corridors... Bless them

The guests gathered for an informal portrait in the Ball Room as the band began to play and Lucrezia’s drinks were served. Sadly, by the time it took the Artist to finish his sketch, the buffet had arrived and half the guests had fled in search of food. Even the Undead can be tempted by a few canapés and luke warm sausage rolls, it seems. I haven’t eaten in almost one hundred years but despair: Pineapple and cheese cubes on sticks, surely the Devil’s work?

I flatter myself that I cater to all tastes, but I think that next year we will be omitting Cat Nip from the menu! Purrrfectly delightful feline friends become Troublesome Tom’s after a mere sniff of the stuff... Bad Cat certainly seemed determined to live up to his name. He set his sights on poor Kitty Rawr and proceeded to be rather uncouth. Ms Rawr was understandably offended by his vulgar approaches. She had also confessed to me earlier, a growing affection for a certain Vampire Kitty and so I had a word in his pointy little ear. Our cloaked hero proceeded to put a glamour upon naughty Bad Cat who was observed shortly afterwards, happily chasing a wind up mouse round the grounds, all amorous thoughts banished from his fluffy head.

As the dancing continued on into the wee hours, Kitty and the Count were not the only one’s to slip away unnoticed. The grounds of Nightshade Hall are always so beautiful by Moonlight and soon romance was in the air...

I swear I saw The Harvest Skellington and Ms Edwardian-Monkey-Business (what an unusual name), who made such a handsome, if boney, couple. Others whispered sweet nothings among the box hedges as statues discreetly averted their gaze. Some got blissfully lost in the maze, which they may regret, once the heady elixir of love has evaporated: Great Aunt Cecilia has been in there for nigh on 70 years by my reckoning, and she only entered to retrieve a tennis ball... Shouldn’t laugh, I do miss poor Aunt Cessie!

Now, where was I, as Cessie is bound to think from time to time, tee hee... ah, yes, affairs of the heart! Dr Frankenstein, when working on his most infamous creation, seems to have forgotten to throw fidelity into the mix. The Monster, as he insists on being called, had rather dippily invited both of his Brides to the party, neither aware of the other until this very night! The atmosphere was as electric as that in the

Elsewhere my beautiful, deadly cousin, Belladonna made her way down into the Crypt with Tiffany & her familiar and the Spirit of Halloween, who floated eerily behind them. One had best secure an invitation to enter the Crypt as not all of our Ancestors are quite as sociable as Belle and myself. Things can turn ugly if one disturbs their eternal

rest unannounced, even I tread warily, but Halloween is an exception and those in the know began to filter down to the dank and echoey vaults as the “after-party” began to rage. Belle later told me that she had initially been sniffy about Tiffany. It’s all the rage right now for trendy young Witches to have “Designer” familiar’s, many of which they carry under their arms like pampered pets. W -“It”-ches, they call themselves, though Belle would make that Twit-ches! Belladonna, almost as old as yours truly, can be a bit of a stickler for tradition but soon succumbed to the charm of the sweet little Snow Tiger cub, who had all our hearts before dawn.. quite literally... in a bowl for his breakfast, the little cutie!

Bye for now,

                                    wierdly xxx