Many books have been written about vampires, but Don’t Cry for me; Pray for Me presents a slightly different look at the world of the occult. The book is written about the past events in the author’s life, similar to memoirs. The author and main character is not a hero or a villain, but he may become either depending upon the choices he makes. Don’t Cry for Me; Pray for Me is a roller coaster ride between dreams, visions, and reality and the thin line between all three. From beginning to end, the reader will be compelled to travel along with the author and main character throughout his journey until the shocking conclusion. This book is an easy, must read.

Steven X Masters was born in rural Texas in 1970. In 1990, he joined the Navy and served until 2000. In 1999, he decided to pursue his life-long dream of being a writer. Thus, the birth of Don’t Cry for Me; Pray for Me and the idea of having the main character write the book. After departing the Navy, he began work for FedEx and attended Southwestern College. Less than a year later, 9-1-1 occurred and Steven was recalled to service. That is where he is currently, serving his country.

I awoke to the sound of bagpipes playing "Amazing Grace." The sky was overcast and I was in a graveyard. There was a slight breeze and I could feel my hair blow with it. My hair? My hair was short, but it turned out not to be so. My hair was long, flowing about my shoulders. My hair had not been this long since I was 20. In the distance, I could hear crying; it was Sera. I walked amongst the trees and through the rows of headstones, following the echoes of sorrow. Then, I came upon them. There was Sera and her family, Ryan, Sam, the Nocturnal Legion, a mysterious unidentifiable veiled woman with a baby, Lucy Ross, Elaine Martinez, Brandy Jackson, the bloodied and decomposing Ross family, a smiling Jack Sanchez, Mother with those white eyes, and the minister was a man that had a faint resemblance to Jack Masters but rougher. He was a tall man, six-foot at least. He had long black hair, like I had. He also had those white eyes, like I had. It was not I, however, this man was older. Could it have been Travis?

No one seemed to notice that I was there but him. He looked over at me and hissed, "welcome, my boy, we’ve been anticipating your arrival." He was pointing down to the casket. It was open and the body that laid in it was mine. It was I, at least it was a couple of years ago before all the changes. The corpse had the short blonde hair, the green eyes I used to have, and no facial hair but a mustache. "Say goodbye to the old Steven, forever. May he rest in peace."

I inquired, "are you Travis? Are you my father?"

"I am he that which you speak of."

"Then why are you burying my soul."

"Because it is not your soul, boy, it was a shell that kept your true self trapped inside. Your soul has been released and it stands before me. You have been denying yourself your own destiny, Steven, for too long."

"And what destiny may that be?"

"To rule the world beside me."

"Not under you?"

"You are my equal, Steven, there is no disputing that."

"To reunite the old clans of Egypt and either destroy or infect all humans?"

"That’s the plan, my boy."

"And what of Varnus? He disapproves of your plans."

"Forget, Varnus. He is not what he says he is, Steven. He is a liar and a fraud. He is not even Varnus. Who ever he is, he is an old fool and he shall die by my hand someday, if he ever crosses my path again."

"Father, you are truly sick."

"You will not help me, my boy, will you?"

"I can’t. You’re killing innocent people."

"Then, hypocrite, you shall die with them."

I awoke in my airplane seat with his words a distant echo. The flight attendants were walking up and down the isles handing out peanuts to the passengers. Hunger did not inflict itself upon me, so I declined Mr. Peanut. I was truly nervous about the trip and what I might find in the wake of the horrifying dream I had had.