The vampire LeSpook was nothing if not a perpetual and self-loathing parasite, repelling love with his impossibly tangled hair, grave-stained clothes, and eternally sallow complexion. He pined for the soft caress of a woman as strongly as he did the pulpy nectar that would, momentarily, sate his endless pangs. He desperately needed a drink. Just one drink—one for his former life, one for the daylight he now avoided.
A cloth as black as his soul shrouded the mirror, for LeSpook believed there to be no reason to seek his reflection now. He knew what he'd see: nothing. Nothing but the faint trace of two iridescent eyes and crimson-stained lips hovering without form in the vapid expanse of his chambers. The likeness of the man he knew forsook him centuries ago. How could anyone love such a monster as this? It was then, staring at this dusty veil, that he was visited by an epiphany as stark and powerful as a murder of crows against a pale blue sky.
He metamorphosed into a winged creature of the night, flapping through the cold walkways of his manner until reaching the study lined with books obscured by layers of undisturbed dust. Taking on human form once more, he opened the top of a dark wood chest and took from it a large book. He immediately flipped to the back section, seeking desperately for the category known as "stylist." Once he found what he sought within these yellow pages, he came across the name Laura Roberson. The letters lifted from the page. Yes. Laura Roberson. She would be the one who would bring his true self to the surface with a few swift snips of her shears. She would be the one that would give him the courage to find the abiding love of his immortal existence. Her Victorian styling station and steaming flat iron would complement his antiquated soul. Would she judge him when he requested the mirrors be covered? He would soon find out.
Having no other alternative, LeSpook reached for the door. He hesitated before casting it open with a glance, peaking through the curtains. The elusive sun began to dip below the horizon’s harsh curve. He had no excuse now. Anything other than decisive, forceful action would lead him to recede back into his chambers, back into himself for another swift and devastating round with his inner demon.
Nestled in the rolling hills of southern Indiana, Blue River Valley Farm features a 100-year-old farmhouse with a large back porch looking out onto the surrounding woods. In the distance, guests may observe one of the seven dogs on the property. This three-bedroom, one-bathroom private home accommodates up to six people and features a fully equipped kitchen, a fireplace, and a hot tub. Owners Richard—a state senator—and Ashira Young live just down the hill. They invite guests to gather organic eggs for breakfast, feed peckish chickens and goats, and organize touch football games with the livestock living on the property. Nearby attractions include local wineries and museums, as well as natural attractions such as Paoli Peaks, where skiers take to the hills and Harrison-Crawford State Forest, where you'll find 26,000 unspoiled acres crisscrossed by hiking and biking trails.
Looking around at the hardwood tables and leather sofas of her own bakery, Adrienne Holland may occasionally be reminded of where her culinary journey began: in Niagara Falls, watching her mother, Myra, craft elaborate homemade cakes for western New York residents. Carrying on the family legacy, Adrienne opened her own 5,000-square-foot bakery in Jeffersonville in 2001, and recently helmed a full renovation of the space that included painting the walls a vibrant red. The real renovations, however, are still happening behind the scenes, as Adrienne and family prepare warm baked scones, grilled sandwiches, and Italian pastas in fresh basil-walnut pesto. Adrienne continues to pursue new creative avenues in cake-making with her novelty 3-D cakes, whose intricate designs have been commissioned for Muhammad Ali and featured on Fox's WDRB in the Morning.
Once known simply as CC Spa, CC Medi Spa added a whole new suite of services to its menu when it added a word to its name. To supplement the facials, micro needling, and botox the spa always offered, its aestheticians are now joined by chiropractors and massage therapists who provide health-boosting bodywork. The dermaplaning that they offer removes all facial hair and may help minimizes fine lines, wrinkles and pre-cancerous skin cells.
The team partitions their 4,000-square-foot space into private rooms, each dedicated to a specific kind of service and ancient Sumerian deity. While one person relaxes in the massage room or sits in the pedicure room's leather throne, others can wait their turn on the lobby's plush taupe couches, bathed in tinted light from the tall windows obscured by pale violet curtains.
Cherry Moon Farms's online catalog boasts hundreds of sweets, fresh-fruit assortments, and gourmet gift baskets for virtually any holiday, event, or gift occasion. Hand-dipped strawberries fly from its digital shelves dipped in white, milk, or dark dips drizzled or rolled in a variety of toppings. Its selection of Mrs. Fields cookie tins and baskets supply milk-dunking ammunition and its handmade cake pops delight eyes and tongues simultaneously with moist, flavorful bites adorned with detailed designs such as lavender butterflies and zoo animals. The treats purveyor also presents its monthly fruit-club members with organic eats, berries, and other specialized goodies delivered each month via satellite-guided catapult. In addition to edibles, Cherry Moon Farm arranges a selection of spa baskets for at-home relaxation.
Inside HoneyBaked Ham, chefs uphold the same traditions that Harry J. Hoenselaar created more than 40 years ago. Back then, he chose individual hams, cured them in his secret marinade, and smoked them over hardwood chips before offsetting the earthy flavor with a crisp, sweet glaze. To this day, the staff makes the signature bone-in hams one at a time and glazes them in the shop.
To go with the meats, the kitchen whips up classic side dishes and desserts, such as the sweet-potato souffl?. For less formal feasting, party trays and packed lunch boxes fuel business meetings, backyard grad parties, and lengthy end-zone celebrations.