She shook a black tambourine in my shipwrecked dreams

So last year, for Pesach, I tried to write upbeat poetry. It didn't so much work:

Let All Who

Open the door: come and stand
where the prophet holds the earth
open to revelation, where we hold
our hearts open to strangers
as to selves, to possibility: next
year in the city of gold. A door
into memory, story into life:
a blessing. It is always enough.

This is by way of declaring that Not One of Us recently accepted my poem "Bloodlines," which I'm rather hoping is the first vampiric Pesach poem ever. Sadly, I expect not. There's a lot of blood in that story; there's a lot of blood libel running down the centuries; somebody before me must have found a clever way to invert it. But since I cannot think of any off the top of my head, I am temporarily going to declare myself the sole and victorious constituent of a new subgenre, and sit back to enjoy it for as long as it takes someone to inform me that, actually, it's been done before.

So now I'm wondering, more generally, about Jewish vampires. Jane Yolen's "Sister Death" and Doris Egan's "The Sweet of Bitter Bark and Burning Clove" are two stories that lie near and dear to my heart, although Leigh Ann Hussey's "Blood Libel" has become one of my flat-out folkloric favorites, if only for the last paragraph. (Thanks to fleurdelis28 for, well, digging it up again.) But off the top of my head, that's about it.* Let me state, I have no great familiarity with vampire fiction of any denomination, beyond what are probably the basics: Poppy Z. Brite's Lost Souls, the occasional foray by Caitlín R. Kiernan, and a rather substantial amount of Tanith Lee. Robin McKinley's Sunshine. The Love in Vein anthologies. No Anne Rice, past what I read one night in strange_selkie's dorm room and disliked intensely. Vampires have never been one of those myths that really caught me, like the sea or shape-changers. But my curiosity has been piqued: is there any Jewish vampire fiction / poetry out there that I really should have read?

And if there isn't, when are you going to write some?

*Somewhere, I'm sure, there is an anthology. There is an anthology for everything. But I haven't seen it yet . . .