Joyeux Noël Chapter 13


Chapter 13

The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël


Chapter 13

Pamela had spent the last hour running a facial recognition program, searching for the name of the Were who had gone into the bar and was doing dirty deeds on behalf of the witches.

Now she was in her bunker, doing her own inventory. What was needed, how much and how big was the bang going to be?

All of those scarecrow crucifying magpies that thought to do them harm were in custody courtesy of the FBI; but that did not matter. Eventually they would be back on the streets. They would just be the mice to her playful cat when they thought they were safe. And when she was on the hunt…no one was safe…and with this current situation of Eric being hunted, she was oddly amused and very pissed!

Three of Eric’s belongings had been destroyed tonight and yet neither she nor her maker had died in the process. Bad mistake to leave them still standing! Which was just going to leave the offenders always looking through their legs so at any minute they could kiss their collective asses good bye. It was heart-stopping to be on The Viking’s shit list. Which meant you were on her shit list as well. And she advertised that fact heavily

It was indeed the truth that she had taken out a full page ad in the New York Times back in the sixties telling Prince Wally that she was looking for him. Complete with address and phone number where she could be reached.

Eric just ended you. That was his Viking training. Run your sword through their guts or take their head off with you great vampire strength. Did not matter. To him dead was dead.

“No attention to detail,” she muttered, thinking about her maker. “He does not care what he is wearing to mark the occasion. Just bring the deathblow. I personally plan my wardrobe down to the color of my undies…seamed stockings and garters or open-toed sandals? And no white after Labor Day…never ever!”

What passed for fashion these days…she shuddered. There were going to be awards shows come the spring…she shuddered again.

“That is a whole different venue. Can’t be thinking about that now…but I will.”

Because there would be a new dark when she would take her revenge…and it was coming and she had the names and addresses. She would be busy in New Orleans for the next 24-48 hours but it would be a good busy. There would be puzzles and planning that caused you to exercise your mind as well as the body.

Fuck exercising good will. That was never going to be her game plan. Eric had taught her if someone strikes out at you with a wooden stake, strike back with the biggest amount of firepower you had at your disposal. Massive retaliation! Scorched earth! Eric was famous for it and she had been his most apt and talented pupil!

Did she love her maker?   Well yes, in an offhanded Pammy Vampire loves her Maker Vampire kinda way. After all, it was Eric and she would do anything for him. And had done most things for him and would continue to embrace his perfection in the stratosphere of the gods…and of course fuck with him every chance she got!

Did she love chaos and mayhem even more? Well…that was a question best left for the sages, poets, and all those that had pissed her off and now walked the realm of the finally dead courtesy of her infamous and very creative massive retaliations.

If you were fortunate enough to travel in her inner circles, she was known as the Million Dollar Baby. Not many called her that to her face. But those who wanted to know her certainly whispered it when she entered a room. Her wardrobe ensembles and perfect toilette inspired one and all.

When she had been in Argentina being measured for these hand made boots, she had inspired El Che, bless his Marxist heart, to write the playbook that made him a household name in military circles.

Now here she was, busy going through her N.O. playhouse. There might be those who would call it an ammo bunker, but what the fuck did they know?

Happily and daintily she had down her .50 caliber machine gun and had taken it apart, greased it and then set the timing. That little timing wheel went click, click, click until it sounded just right.

“I love you,” she whispered as she picked up a leather alligator case and ran her hands across it. Placing it on the table, with nimble but deadly exquisiteness, out came her little beauty, a .50 caliber sniper rifle. “Any vampire can kill and terrorize using only his body and vampish ways,” she rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound. “That is so plebian, so yesterday, so Bill Compton.

But tis a bit difficult for a witch to spell a silver powdered bullet when you have no idea it is incoming.

And hurrah,” she stuck her finger down her throat and gagged, “for those folks who blow Were shit up with C-4. Seriously….you do not need brains or talent or finesse for that. Even monkeys can be trained to do it.” Rolling her eyes, she wiped the grease off her hands onto a rag she kept in her cleaning kit. “Compton comes to mind. What a buffoon!

I take great pride I can light a match with a bullet…in the dark…and that just brings a whole new elegant and grandiose venue to an otherwise dull and predictable guns-for-hire affair.”

Sun up was going to be a horizon event in about two hours, which was more than enough time. She would take care of the bar where this wicked deal was struck. “Seriously stupid fuckers, if you want to kill the snake, you had better cut off its fucking head and toss the head and body of the snake into a raging fire, just to be on the safe side.

Not that C-4,” she hefted a couple of pounds, “is not without its uses…”


Humming God Save the Queen, Pam found herself back down in the culvert, explaining things to Ronald Rat.

“Look,” she said eyeballing him and squinting a bit. “It is C-4. Forget what you see in the movies. That shit is not real life. Now, that three thousand dollar bottle of tequila I bought for you last time, that is real life. And I am not asking you to stick around. The bar is closed, I’ll knock out the glass, you go in, leave the explosive on the table and I will do the rest.

And if you do a good job for me tonight, well, I will perhaps have more business for you this week. It is going to be a busy one and I have a lot to get done. You help me and I will wave my fairy godmother wand and grant wishes and buy alcohol.”

There were a lot of squeaks forthcoming.

“Really?” she sounded doubtful. “You know that story? And the rat got cheated by being the carriage driver? You want what? To be the handsome prince?

Look little dude,” she leaned over and picked him up so that they were eye to eye. “I am not saying you are not charming, but my magic wand can only spread so much fairy dust around and it is all in spendable currency.”

The rat squeaked at her.

“Yes, yes and yes,” she rolled her eyes. “I was figuratively speaking. I don’t really have a magic wand but I do have a black American Express card and enough money to keep you in top shelf tequila the rest of your days.

So is that a yes or a no?”

The rat pondered that as she sat him back down. “Clock is ticking,” she smiled at him. “If you don’t want this job, Jimmy the Rodent over on 21st says he is interested. The winos are leaving nothing these days. Apparently they are recycling the empties for money.”

“Squeak, squeak,” and… something that sound a whole lot like “that fucking Jimmy…” was the last word of complaint as Pam loaded him with the C-4.

“And remember, you have to leave rat shit at the scene.”

This time the rat rolled his eyes and said something about “fucking vampires making us take the blame.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Pam grinned.

They were across the street and then Pam was back. A well placed bullet broke out the bottom window, in went Ronny and then he scurried back out, leaving his non-edible package behind. Crossing the street, he was back to Pam.

“See, I told you I would wait. I hold true to my word,” she groused at him as she took careful aim and fired at the fuse. It was most satisfying when the explosion blew the brick, mortar and fucking rosemary hand purifier into the New Orleans spell laden, night sky.

“We can hit two more before sunrise. You in?” she asked.

There was a lot of squeaking.

“Of course it gives you bragging rights,” she said shaking her head, disbelief in her voice. “What you do for me, you do for The Viking. I am his child, he is my maker; child/maker bond, I am in he, he is in me, yadda, yadda, yadda.

And yes I can call but you would have to leave a message. Daylight and all that.”

Ronny stood up on his hind legs and reached for the phone.

“I fucking don’t believe this,” she scowled. “Wait one. I’m dialing.”

The phone rang and there was the familiar, “This is Northman, leave a message.”

Making a face, Pam squatted down and put the phone by Ronny’s mouth.

The rat talk started in earnest.

Pam was glaring. “Look, he doesn’t want your life story.”

Standing, Pam said into the phone. “Eric, when you write your autobiography, Ronny wants to be at least a footnote.

See you on the other side of the big pond.” Putting her phone away Ronny nodded in agreement.

“Good,” she said picking him up. “Airborne in 3-2-1.”


When the plane landed, Samuel’s majordomo, Clifford, appeared.

“There seems to be a glitch,” and his look said he was anything but pleased. “There are no stairs available at this time so that we may disembark anywhere and someone gave the Raja permission to pull into The Da’vid hanger. Apparently someone in the transportation ministry said you would not mind.”

“I do not mind the military coming through and using it. I made that perfectly clear. Patch me through,” Samuel said standing. “And tell Saul to inform the tower that we are hanger bound.”

Sookie looked up at Eric.

“My brother values his privacy and that is why Samuel owns a hanger. It is another piece of real estate that earns him money so with the right clearance, you can rent it.

Military transport planes are always welcome there. No charge. They are even equipped to handle their dogs. Samuel provides a nice facility to decompress for the two legged and four legged warriors.

We were late taking off from Shreveport because the hanger was being used by a U.S. military team and Samuel wanted to give them time to relax and stretch, shower and have a meal before they loaded and took off.

That there are no stairs available, that could be likely but we always err on the side of safety because you do not know who is watching.

Now, if we are Supes, we can always elect not to wait on the outside stairs and just descend while the world watches and records who gets off the plane. Some Supes are so impatient that they do not wait and just float down to the tarmac. They announce to the world exactly where they are. If my face pops up somewhere, it is because I want you to know, not because I slipped up and you caught me on video.”

“Oh,” Sookie nodded, “I see. Very low profile.”

“Yes,” Eric nodded. “Now, Samuel’s people are on the ground right now, moving things along.

Well yes. You see,” the plane started to move forward, “even as we speak. This mistake is being corrected and Samuel is now tracking with the magic of his electronics who issued such an order.”

“Is it always like this?” Adele asked.

“Yes,” Eric nodded. “We take nothing for granted. Especially when traveling with civilians. Your safety is first and foremost.”

O.I. looked interested. “Do I need to be out workin’ some of my magic?” he asked.

“Not at this moment,” Eric grinned. “But I thank you for the offer.”

Adele smiled at Crankshaft. “This is going to be a good visit. And I am so looking forward to seeing the places you told me about in your stories.”

“My dearest Miss Adele,” he said bringing her hand to his lips. “It was never me intent to return. But now I am a findin’ I cannot wait to show you the places that helped to shape my life.”

“I want to see them,” she raised his hand to her face and rubbed against it. “And take photos. And use them in the book.”

“I’m not much to speak about,” he said to her, his voice serious.

Lifting her notebook, she fanned through the pages. “I already have just about filled this one with your musings and tales.”

Lafayette settled back into his chair and watched the older couple. There sat happiness.

Then his gaze shifted to Sookie and Eric. There also sat happiness.

O.I. was humming a little happy tune himself. When he raised his head up from around his big man’s neck, he winked at him.

“Righteous righteousness, my little man’s,” Lafayette stroked him between the ears. “All is good.”

At that time, Samuel walked back in and he looked a lot happier than he did when he left. Which was most excellent. Brother Samuel always appeared to be laid back. Eric had said in passing that Samuel had taught him a few things about getting even.

The oldest known living vampire was very solicitous. “We will be in the hanger in five minutes. The helicopter is waiting for us. Miss Adele and Miss Sookie and Mr. Lafayette, you shall have the grand London tour by night. I believe Ian is anxiously waiting for us. Something about carolers, hot toddies, a Yule log and Christmas cheer.”


Eric’s team was whisked through customs. Apparently word had been passed. No one was laughing about the mix up with the hanger or that Samuel had slapped Heathrow with a twenty million pounds sterling rental fee and a promised call from his lawyer.

“They told my team that the Raj was outbound with his guards to fight the war on terrorism,” was all Samuel said in a way of explanation.

Nothing was said but plenty of eyes were rolled.

Samuel shook all over, got past whatever he was going to say and smiled out at the group.

“Your sizes were forwarded to Ian,” Eric said standing and addressing his new family. “Along with your photograph. There shall be a wardrobe change available for you when we reach his home if you so desire.”

“You guys think of everything,” Sookie replied looking up at him with an arched eyebrow.

“Well yes,” Eric grinned. “We must. There is mischief afoot and I think it has already started.”


“What the fuck!” the ground guide Charles kept muttering as he guided the Raj’s plane out of the hanger and could see the 747 lumbering its way toward him.

The Were, Gerald, that was on the walkie-talkie next to him growled and for a moment Charles thought Gerry was going to unzip and piss on him he was so angry at this turn of events!

The visiting plane was diverted from the hanger and the Weres were walking it on to another lot. He and Gerald had been paid in advance to keep this hanger occupied and to keep all others out. That plan had lasted all of not even ten minutes. The Raj’s party had not yet disembarked and now they were going to bussed to where ever in hell they parked and were bound next.

He could hear someone screaming in his headset from the royal plane. There would be no red carpet, no flowers, no hookers waiting to greet them.

Gerald handed him a phone. “It’s Wion,” he mouthed in the shadows of the lamps illuminating the runway.

So this was how it was going to end for him. “Show no fear,” he thought and then said,


“You are dead, you worthless piece of Were shit,” Wion hissed. “I am going to mount you and after I have had my fun, then I am going to mount your fucking head on a fucking pike!

You give me back my money and then I will see in the New Year with you for entertainment!”


Wion threw the phone against the wall and growled, “Give me another one.”

Collecting himself he knew it would do him no good to lose control now. Dialing the number he began, “Director, the plane that Northman was on has pulled into a hanger. Another team has taken over. There is no way now of tracking him.”

“You promised me Northman by Yuletide, tied with a bow, under my tree,” came the friendly, diplomatic reply that held a nasty, veiled threat. “If you do not deliver as promised, you will not be seeing in the New Year.”

Wion stood and stared at his phone. “Gawd, I fucking hate politicians,” he said to his second who nodded in agreement. The Director had clicked off and he had until Yuletide to produce the vampire or his werewolf blood would be the base for the blood pudding.

“Where is the vampire’s bitch of a whelp?” he asked.

When no answer was forthcoming, he snarled, “Find her!”


The Grand Tour over London was everything Eric had promised. Sookie could see the sights that London had made famous and it all looked like a fairyland in the deep, dark, of the winter’s night!

“What’s that?” she asked. “Is that,” she stressed the word, “is that where we are going to land?”

“There is no place like home,” she heard the clipped upper crust British accent in her headset. “Miss Sookie and Miss Adele and Mr. Lafayette, I am so happy that you will be joining us for our Yuletide.

We have a bonfire as a way of greeting,” and on cue, the darkness on the ground was replaced with the dancing of flames! “And as soon as you have had your first toast to the Yule season, we hold the promise of fireworks!”

“Thanks,” Sookie was able to get out as the flames grew higher as the ground got closer.

Stepping out of the helicopter, Ian and Cedric were there to greet them with flower, holly, and heather bouquets.

After the initial hellos, a hot rum punch was served, “A blessed Yule!” was shouted to the heavens and Ian pointed to the North sky as the sextet began Greensleeves and fireworks lit up the night sky!


The firework spectacle ended with the Union Jack and the Stars and Stripes appearing together on crossed staffs. After much applause and cheering, the celebration moved inside.

“I thought we would begin in the original part of the house,” Ian smiled as Gran took note of all the different types of greenery and flowers that had been worked into the great hall.

“The large round tower; the donjon or keep, was built first. The slender round tower was built as soon as the keep was finished. Then as wealth arrived in later centuries, the manor house was added on. The entire domicile is rift with Gothic arches. Not just the windows, but the doors as well and as you can see, the stone mason continued the pattern in the brick work in the walls, as well.”

“Your home is beautiful,” Sookie smiled at him. “Thank you so much for having us. I must admit, I have been very excited about spending Christmas here, but also a little horrified at intruding in upon you at this time of year.”

“Miss Sookie,” Ian bowed and took her hand. Bringing it to his lips, he placed a very chaste kiss there under Eric’s watchful eyes.

“Samuel and Eric are part of my family. The red-headed Irish lad I have known since I was a child. I am honored that you would bless my home with your presence.”

“Thank you,” she said as she gave him a small bow of her head.

“Now,” Ian led them through the foyer and into the great hall. “I see we have a noble and good fire. I believe it is time to set the world to rights.

Scully Crankshaft,” he said addressing the older vampire. “There is someone going to be in attendance that I would like for you to meet and who would like to meet you. Eric has told me about how private you are in your personage. But the Queen of England is arriving in an hour and she would like to bestow upon you a knighthood.

You shall be shown to your chambers and you have a variety of clothes to pick from. Formal wear is what is required for this evening. So if you would please, I would be happy to escort you to your rooms.”


Sookie and Adele were just a little awestruck!

Scully had cried off and on during the ceremony, saying that what he did was nothing. That Londoners had seen the angel and it was not him who had saved all those souls. He was not an angel. He had just done what he could.

Smiling at him HRM dubbed him and said, “Rise, Sir Angel of Green Park.

Your Queen and your country are forever in your debt.”


There was a toast to the newest knight of the realm and then the Queen and her entourage were gone.

“I meet Elizabeth the First,” Samuel said as Reggie, Ian’s mastiff sat beside him, dozing off and on in front of the fire while Samuel ran his hand down the dog’s back. “They are not so unalike. Both women of iron and wanting what is best for their country.”

As the evening progressed there were comfortable lulls in the conversation as glasses were refilled or everyone stopped to listen to a particular strain of music and sometimes even to sing along.

“How old is the keep?” Sookie asked, snuggled in next to Eric as she listened to the fanciful and the elegant words that were bandied about her.

The Irish lad, Cedric, King of Eire. She decided she could listen to his bullshit, as Eric so elegantly called it, all night. There was magic in the way he said the words and from time-to-time she could see the ancient mists rising up and dancing around her ankles when Cedric talked about the ageless stone henges and the lives that had swirled through history, adding color, depth, horror and charm.

“Who has the best story ever about Eric?” she laughed. “It had to happen in London so that we can include it in the book.”

“Oh no…” Eric leaned forward a bit, his eyes on his friends. “No. I forbid it.”

Which just made them all laugh…Ian louder than the others.

“Well, a bit of London history is in the telling,” he chuckled. “Though bloody hell, I must say it was not funny at the time. The keep had just been finished. The tower was built to commemorate the fact that the fire of 1666 had not reached this far. That this was indeed a blessed house.”

“Yes,” Cedric was chuckling, “No need for we Irish to go to war with England. Just leave it to The Viking to do the work for us. Eric’s motto back in the day was *Why just burn down the house when you can burn down the entire inner city?”

“The fire that started on Pudding Lane was not my fault,” Eric grumbled. “The prostitute threw that lantern. How was I supposed to know that she wanted to be paid in gold and not the minted coin of the crown? Seriously, I cannot read minds. She was trying to kill me. ‘Burn, you cheap bastard, burn,‘ she screeched the whole time while the room went up in flames around us. I tossed her naked ass out the window and then I hauled my ass out after hers.” He could hear Samuel still chuckling as he tried to stare down his brother who only laughed harder. “I can not read minds,” he grumbled, again, and raised Sookie’s hand for a kiss.

“You started the fire of 1666?” Sookie drew back from him.

“Oh, that’s not all he is famous for,” Cedric was also laughing. “You should hear how he put the lean in the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

“Cedric!” Eric cut his eyes to his friend. “That is not for polite company.”

“I know that, me boyo,” he grinned. “I am a figurin’ the Lady of Your Heart will vex it out of you.”

Eric said nothing. He just took Sookie’s hand and brought it up for a kiss.

“What?” Ian’s voice was quiet and thoughtful. “You thought we would not know?”

“I am here to do a job,” Eric responded. “My team is here to write a book and enjoy Christmas in your lovely home.”

Sookie said nothing. Just sat and watched as this, whatever this was, played out around her.

“You are among family here Eric,” Ian said softly. “And she knows that. And by not acknowledging Cedric’s title that clearly you have bestowed upon her, you have hurt her.”

“She may hold my heart,” Eric whispered, “but it is more than that. I love her and I have not yet told her.”

“Then we leave you to it,” Ian said rising. Everyone stood and left the two of them alone in front of the fire.

“You are so beautiful,” he said as he pulled her into his lap. “And not just the beauty that fades. But the kindness and the regard you have for others. The respect you have for others and also for yourself. That your family is your all. That your umwelt is complete. I cannot see how your world would have any need for the likes of me.

My world, however….” He hesitated. “I have waited a thousand years, Miss Stackhouse, for you to walk into my life. To know in my soul that you are the woman that I have held in that secret place. Just waiting…waiting for her. As a human, I sailed around the unknown world to find you. As a vampire, I would…” he paused and placed kisses on both of her hands. “I would greet the sun if I could have your love to take with me.

Is this what love feels like…?” he shrugged. “I think I know what love is. Love is sacrifice. That I would give of myself to protect you. That I would do all that I could to keep you safe. That I would want for you to continue in this world that you would make a better place.

I have a deep and abiding respect for you and the way you have lived your life. I have had a thousand years of watching and hopefully learning from others mistakes and my own.

Are you safe with me, no. Do I want to be with you, yes.”

Eric smiled at her and wiped the tears away that were on her cheeks and spilling from her eyes.

“Joyeux Noël, Sookie,” Eric kissed her lightly on the lips. Her hands moved to his face as she traced along the curve of his face. “The only thing I have to give you is myself,” her voice cracked as she started crying in earnest.

“An honest and true representation of your soul, Sookie, is what translates from your heart to your mind and body. My friends, Samuel, Ian and Cedric and Pamela, I say the same about them. I like who I am when I am with them. There is no contrivance. No deceit. No lies. They are not only my friends, but also my family. I love them.

I would be honored, Sookie, if I could include you in this same realm. And even more honored if you thought of me the same way. Cedric was correct of course. You are the Lady of My Heart.”

“I…I…yes…” she was weeping, her heart there on her face as Eric leaned in and placed his forehead against hers.

“It will not be easy,” his hands caressed her back. “We have to combine our umwelts. Our worlds are so different but parts of it overlapping. Like a Venn diagram.

I have no idea how we shall work out the particulars. I only know that my umwelt would never be in proper order again if you were not a part of it.”

“I would like to be a part of your world, Eric,” she hiccupped as she rubbed her nose against his.

As Eric settled back into the chair, she nestled into him. Holding hands, they let their fingers express what they were feeling inside. Skin, softly touching skin as their fingertips traced out I Love You on the palms’ of their hands.

“We can stay here until you fall asleep,” he sighed as he rubbed his nose in her hair.

Looking up at him with questioning eyes, Eric grinned at her and kissed her on the nose.

“Scully is the head of your blood family. I have to speak with him and I shall do so with the new dark. I do not believe he or your grandmother would want to be disturbed.

So we shall talk and together we shall discover the intimacies of our minds. I will begin with

I like the snow, when it falls gently on a cold, dark night. The crystalline, soothing white reflecting the least bit of unknown light. How about you?”

“I have never experienced snow,” she replied, her eyes meeting his.

“I do like to listen to the frogs singin’ at night,” she grinned at him.

“The first sign of spring,” Eric nodded. “Growing up in Sweden, it meant winter had loosed its grip and welcomed warmer weather was being heralded.

I think, Miss Stackhouse, winter has loosed its grip on me since you have become the Lady of My Heart.”



*Carroll E. Stewart. I Said No…Chapter 5

Dear Readers,

I think I have Jack’s schedule figured out…so far at least. (Who, according to the Vet, is about 1 & ½ years old. He is a Lab, German Shepherd and Hound mix. Seriously, he started baying the other day when we were outside. The Hound of the Baskervilles, anyone! We have declared Halloween his birthday and this year he shall be two!) He takes a nap in the morning and one in the afternoon. During this time, I shall write my small bits and my desire is to get back to posting on Monday’s. So whatever gets written during that time gets posted.

I continue on with physical therapy…it kicks my ass.

I am using muscle groups that have not been fully engaged in a while! To quote Jack…woof….! But it is all good!

As always, thanks for reading!

Be blessed and be the blessing,



Joyeux Noël Chapter 12


Chapter 12

The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël

Chapter 12

Pamela was doing recon and was humming to herself the British national anthem God Save the Queen. She was happily standing at attention with her hand over her heart, until the song was over. With the perfect bird’s eye view of the Stackhouse place from up in the sky, she had a clear command of the ground.

“So worth staying for,” she smiled happily as she watched the Were noise around gingerly and not with a real purpose or sense of direction. “Of course, the strong smell of dragon urine could have a lot to do with that,” she smiled happily. “My maker is just the best for keeping me in the loop. Would love to have seen O.I. in his I have come to play and be one scary assed mother fucker in my glorious, bigger than a mountain original dragon size. Damn, that has got to be one scary heart stopping moment. Even for the dead that would have to redefine your reality.

Take this Were for example,” she said matter-of-fact. “No matter how bad ass you think you are, if there is something of a mystery out there that is possibly bigger and meaner than you, then it is time to cut your costs, keep your balls, and take it on home to momma. And would you just look at that, he is gonna take it on home to momma. But,” she listened intently, “he has to make a phone call first to explain why he cannot possibly kill those three and…” she was shaking her head as she heard the rest of the weak ass conversation, “he wants more money. Hell, we all want more money. And the sun may set in the West and vampires might rise, but there is no guarantee more money is going to come your way.”

Watching him, he shifted back to wolf and then took off. Pam followed him until he was back at his motorcycle. Shifting back to human, he dressed, downed a six-pack of beer and was back on the road, hauling ass at a great rate of speed.

Wiggling her eyebrows, she paced along with him and was happy to see him turn north onto I-49. Getting off the interstate, he drove to the lake and pulled up in front of what could only be a fishing shanty. It had doors, windows and a patched roof, and that was about all. Picking a spot downwind of the Were, she landed and watched. Out of his saddlebags another six pack appeared which he drank and threw the empties into the weeds beside the old Chevy truck that was parked there.

“Disgusting,” she rolled her eyes as he took a piss on the truck and then laughing she could hear him say, “I bet Momma is smokin’ and drinkin’ and cookin’ up some meth so we can get new Harleys and go to Sturgis in style this year. Damn, we will be all that and I am her favorite child for a reason! I am gonna scare the piss right out of her.” Approaching the door, he hit it with brute force, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Open up, this is the police!”

“Blam! Blam!” roared the double barrel shut-gun through the wood door, spattering Were guts everywhere.

Pam was whooping with laughter! When the old woman opened the blown out wood door, even the dullest of vampire noses could smell just a tad touch of everything that the woman had drank, smoked, and cooked. For good measure, Mother Were Wolf fired two more shots into her now most probably and assuredly dead son. Pam had to admire her thoroughness and good aim for as high as she was.

Not being able to help herself, Pam stood at attention and this time sang God Save the Queen while momma Were reloaded and put two more slugs into her dead son.

Saluting the two, she took to the air, laughing her ass off. “Damn, you just cannot buy this kind of entertainment!”

Landing at the Shreveport airport, she checked the time in London. “If we haul ass, we can be there before midnight of the new dark.” Calling the plane, she told them she was on site and to get them in the air as soon as possible.


“Lover,” Sookie felt Eric sit down next to her on the bed. “We are getting ready to land in London.”

“You are awake,” she stretched and ran her hand down his. “Mm,” she yawned, “what time is it?”

“Almost six in the evening. By the time we clear customs it will be closer to seven.

“Wow, fast trip. It really helps if you have a soul shattering orgasm to help you sleep and then you have this wonderful bed that you can well, sleep in, until you get there.

With another stretch, this time with a breast peaking out, Eric gently traced the areola as she continued on. “I guess you have you heard from Pam? Did someone show up at the farmhouse?”

“Yes and yes,” he nodded. “That is her story to tell. By the way, she will be chasing us. So the family will be reunited sooner than later.”

“That is good news,” Sookie smiled at him as she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Yes,” Eric nodded. “Very, very,” he leaned down for a kiss as his fingers tweaked the nipple that was now hard, “very good news.”

His lips lingered and with a sigh he pulled back. “Landing gear just went down. I’ll help you dress,” he grinned, “then we will depart.

Now, with business out of the way, off with the night gown and I think you should just hire me to be your bra,” his voice was very serious. “You see, you fill my hands perfectly and I will keep them lifted and separated, showing both to their full advantage, unless you want cleavage. Then I can push them together, like so,” he said demonstrating with his hands. “Cleavage certainly makes them more easily kissable,” his voice was reverent as he leaned down and placed kisses using plenty of tongue, all over both as she moaned and pushed up deeper into his mouth.

“You are hired,” she said as she arched her back and gave herself over. It was going to be another quickie, but she was willing to bet it was better than anyone else’s longie!


Pam was watching the hanger where her plane was being prepared.

An Ode to Were Shit,” she began in her very best heavily flawed British accent as she watched the men fuel the plane and a Were was just as busy letting the air out of the tires.

If but for a day

I could come out and play

And not have to shift to poo and pee.

Happily I would still sniff my own butt

And wish for a mountain of cocaine to cut

What a happy Were on all fours I would be.


Sadly Were shit does abide

And does stink and stick to your hide

When stealthy you do try to be.

I do dirty deeds and pee where ever I need

But now Northman will rip out my throat.


Sadly and with melancholy,

Alas and alack

Oh woe and howling is me.

I should just rip out my own throat,

Just leave my body to bloat

And I have no one to blame but me.

 Eric is going to be all kinds of pissed. He hates it when the good or the bad folks of Shreveport or just the world in general  mess with his things. And that does look like a knife that dumb ass is using. What part of The Viking will grind you up for dog food do you not understand?”

Taking out her phone, she took several photos and a video. “And I am missing out on shopping! I was to have a holiday full of magic, mayhem and maybe a little chaos thrown in for good measure. I was to perpetuate all of this on the King of British Isle. He does so find me amusing and misses me when I am gone. His Christmas letter every year says so.

Instead, I am watching my maker’s plane get Were Wolf pissed on. Well, looks like I am getting my Christmas gift a little early. Would you just look at the Were asshole, acting like he did nothing wrong. Just sniffing his own butt and grinning like he can lick his own balls as a human. Oh yes, there he goes, sauntering off. That’s right, keep on walking towards the next hanger. Let’s see who you brought along for the ride and can I kill them sooner than later.”

Following him, when he opened the side door, she stepped in behind him and watched him exit out the other side. That is when she heard the explosion from the hanger behind her and saw the fireball roar into the night, as Eric’s 727 threw shrapnel thirty feet up into the sky along with pieces of the building.

“Oh come on,” she stamped her foot. “My poetry is not that bad…or maybe,” she grinned, “it is. One thing is for sure,” she smiled as she adjusted her lipstick, “my life just got a whole lot more interesting.

And since I am not going anywhere in a hurry, I’ll just watch the excitement from the top of this building as the fire trucks come screaming in.

I want my report to Eric to be complete so I’ll just hang here for a while and look for transportation departing the new dark.

Now, I think I shall chat up Clifford and see if Brother Samuel would mind sending his plane for me.”

And that is when her phone went off!

“This is Pamela Swynford De Beaufort,” she said looking at the Shreveport Fire Department’s number. “How may I be of assistance to Shreveport’s finest.”

“Yes ma’am. This is Fire Marshall Stephens. Ma’am, I understand you are part owner of Fangtasia. Well, it has burned to the ground.”

“Thank you, I’ll be there shortly,” she replied and pulled up the photos of the Weres working on Eric’s plane.

“So little time,” she sighed, “so much death and destruction to spread around and blame on someone else.”

“My maker gets so little free time to himself,” she grinned. “I think he shall be getting even less.”


“Oh,” Eric looked down at his phone, “speak of the Child and she will appear. Normally, she is not a bringer of glad tidings.

Yes Child,” he said answering his phone and listened intently as she explained to him what had happened while he played footsies across the Big Pond.”

“Send the photos and video,” he growled. “I won’t ask you to stay and fix this…”

“Eric,” she smiled. “It is Christmas. Nothing would please me more. Just consider it an early Christmas present to me.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I wanted you to have some time off.”

“Going to have plenty of that,” she grinned. “I’ll get on the insurance part of this. You just show Miss Sookie a very good time and stream it live to me.”

“Child!” he hissed.

“Joyeux Noël,” she sang as she smiled sweetly, bowed her head and hung up.

Then Were shit just continued to happen. Once more, it was the Fire and Rescue that popped up on her screen, only this number was Grapevine, Texas.

“Pamela Swynford De Beaufort,” she said answering the phone.

“Yes ma’am,” the voice drawled with a slight Texas accent. “We are at the address of 17890 West Nebbiolo Avenue in Grapevine, Texas. This house is registered to Eric Northman and you are the point of contact. It has burned to the ground. Was there anyone at home?”

“No,” she replied. “We have been out of the city for the past week. We still out of town.” She knew he was not going to give her an answer, but she wanted to appear normal and asked. “Any idea why?”

“We cannot speculate on that until we bring in our team.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll contact the insurance carrier. Someone will be in touch with you. Thank you so much for the call.”

“Yes ma’am, of course.”

Eric kept several homes as a matter of public record. Since vampires were out, you were to be findable. Well la-tee-da, looked like some dumber than Were shit fool thought he would put this new found knowledge to good use and had declared war on Eric. “So much for living in a gated community,” she sighed and then grinned.

Placing the call, it was all she could do not to chuckle with glee.

“Child,” he answered, “you are smiling and it is scaring me.”

“My maker,” she bowed her head. “The Grapevine house has burned as well. I have this, but now I really want live and in screaming color to my phone of you and Sookie in your favorite sexual escapades.

Oh, don’t frown,” she grinned. “I have this. And seriously, do for me a favorite sexual positions calendar for just the best child in the world…”

Then he was gone and her screen was blank.


Dear Readers,


This is an exceedingly short little chapter which I meant to have posted yesterday, but…

Drum roll, please!


Hello bea-u-tee-ful ladies,

My name is Jack and I am a 50 pound lap fur ball that wants to be loved. Up until Saturday, I was living in a rescue shelter then these folks brought me home and love on me and take me for walks and rule supreme over the lovely and brand new food dish.

She who must be obeyed says that she needs no Fit-Bit…every hour she is up and we are out the door. Which is good for her knees but I am wearing her old tired ass out!

I have my moments still when I jump up in her lap. She who must be obeyed wraps her arms around me and tells me I am a good boy. Saturday I lived there, never wanting to leave. I know it is hard for her to keyboard with me licking her face but I will get better and eventually not be so needy!

Until then, she says you understand about the short chapters. All I can say is thanks!



(PS…the shelter said I was 6. She who must be obeyed says I have feet the size of saucers and keeps wondering if they meant six months and am I going to grow into them. She keeps talking about a saddle if I grow into my feet. Now that I am no longer malnourished, I just might! The Vet will tell us more about me when I see her!

Woof and woof again!



As always, thanks for reading!

Be blessed and be the blessing,

CES and Jack



Joyeux Noël Chapter 11


Chapter 11

The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M

Joyeux Noël

Chapter 11

The Coven of the Unmoved had donned their robes, pulled on their boots, gathered their brooms and made their way to their goddess’s home.

It was an all brick, maybe twelve hundred feet, old shotgun style home on the historic Rousselin Drive.

The lovely front porch and elaborate screen door, wood door and sidelights were new and made the house look welcoming. That was expected. The street had made a come back and there was now an HOA that saw to it that property values were maintained.

That was as far as the renovation had proceeded. Once you stepped inside, from the twenty-foot ceilings hung all manner of herbs, skins, and bags of bones of animals and maybe a human or two who had the misfortune of being washed out during Hurricane Katrina. On the one hundred year old wood floors was one hundred years worth of living. The scars, gouges, and even fingernail scratches left in the wood bore testimony that perhaps dark and miserable secrets had been perpetrated in such a small amount of space.

Gordy Goodfellow, she always snickered at her name, was down on her knees, in front of her fireplace, starting a fire while the coven gathered into her small living room.

It was story time and they all looked forward to this moment. Would they be granted a look into the future or perhaps a secret from the past. They had gotten stock market tips, lottery numbers and even an address where there was buried treasure during these readings.

Gordy could hear them settling in and becoming centered in themselves as the small talk fell away. As they sat cross-legged on the floor, each witch was responsible for chalking a word in front of them and then covering it up with the head of their broom so that no one could see it. When Gordy sat down, she would write her word and then she would go around the circle, the broom bristles removed and it would be her job to interrupt this all-knowing, sacred message.

After this dispatch from the universe was explained, she was going to call the Krasiki Coven. Compton had cheated them out of two hundred thousand dollars and she was pissed!

And who had taken that photo of them?

When they opened that upstairs window in the bar, there was the distinct smell of coal oil and rat piss! How had one of the older covens managed to get a witch up there was a bit of a stretch, but there were supernaturals that had no pride and would do anything for money for anyone. That lower than Were shit Compton came to mind. And the smell of rodent urine was an old-time favorite of the old covens of New Orleans to cover up any sin they thought to commit. With perhaps a war brewing with the Krasiki Coven, now was not the time to think to wrangle with the local old ones.

“Just fucking perfect,” she groused as the fire took hold. “The old ones must suspect something or they would not be spying on us. They will slam our asses with spells so that we all get constipated and cannot shit with out a doctor intervening. Once they can gather one shred of hard evidence against us, not being able to shit will be the least of our worries. With all the Feds in town…” she shuddered, not wanting to complete that thought.  “Not that I am blameless. It certainly seemed like easy money.

That fucking Were and Vampire…” she tossed herbs into the small fire and as they began to burn she began to sputter and pushed back from the smoke. “I just had to fuck both of them. Get my jollies while they got our money! Me explaining it to myself that I would know if they were telling the truth if I just fucked them under a gibbous moon. Yes, well…” she started coughing in earnest. “Damn smoke,” she backed even farther away and as she moved, it moved with her.

Standing up, she quickly moved to her spot in the circle and twelve other members watched as the smoke spiraled out and around the circle, resting on their shoulders.

“This is big,” Wanda said out loud as the smoke lazed on each of them. “Gordy, let us move forward. This message pertains to us all in a most suggestive way. Winter Solstice is coming. Perhaps it is the time of The Awakening?”

“Yes,” the goddess said, as her eyes began to water. Picking up her piece of chalk she wrote the word and then covered it. “Let us begin,” she wheezed as the smoke wafted about her nostrils and causing her throat to itch. “Felix, we will begin with you since you were born on the night of a Gibbous Moon.

“Yes, Goddess,” she bowed her head and moved her broom and revealed the scrawled word dragon.

There was an intake of breath around the circle followed by coughing from everyone.

Around the circle the brooms were removed and there appeared the word, dragon.

Gordy sat in disbelief when it came her turn.

“Goddess,” Fretta nudged her, “you must remove your broom.”

“Must I?” she replied as she sat staring in disbelief. “Surely, you all know what it says,” she whispered as she moved the broom head out-of-the-way. Dragon  stared back at everyone.

“I can’t fucking breathe for this smoke,” she gasped getting up and throwing a bucket of sand into the fireplace. Then she went to the windows and opened them, creating a cross draft that should have pulled the smoke out, instead it settled on the floor in a ring, like fog rising from the ground.

“I have no message from this abomination that was given to us tonight,” she said, pointing to the chalk marks on the floor. “Now, to business. Compton did indeed stop by, earlier. We were cheated out of our money by him and the Were. Before we could react, he jumped out a window and I am sure fled to that bitch who is his maker.

I am calling the Krasiki Coven and registering a complaint and informing them we want our money back. All of you shall stand witness and please, do not spare the chanting while I speak to whoever in hell picks up.”

Taking out her phone, Gordy punched in the number and listened to it ring.

A voice picked up and spoke in Hungarian.

“Spare me the righteous bullshit,” Gordy hissed. “Put Helena on.”

There was a pause and the coven had the audacity to run a canned message advertising its rates.

“Gordy,” a heavily accented voice spoke. “What may the Krasiki Coven do for you?”

“You give me that vampire bitch Lorena and her equally vile offspring Compton. Then, I want our money, all two hundred thousand, returned to us.”

“Gordy, I do not know where our vampire witch is nor the whereabouts of her child, Sweet William. As to money, our coven is not for profit. Where we would find such a vast sum of currency to right this wrong you insist upon?”

“You lying bitch,” she screeched. “We will haunt you and yours until you make this right.”

“Catch us if you can,” Helena laughed and then hung up.

“We are going to…” she began in a wail and was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“What?” she yelled. “It is fucking dark! Go the fuck away!”

“FBI,” was called back. “We have warrants. Either you open the door or we bust it down.”

“Of all the fucking Were shit,” she screeched. “Please do not harm the door. It cost a fucking fortune now to live in this neighborhood.”

Penelope watched as the FBI went about their business. They had a photograph of who was at the club tonight and met with Compton. It was just very convenient that they all happened to be in this room, right now. Made the searching that much easier for them.

In the over all scheme of things, in this coven she was a nobody. Had no responsibilities and was just a warm body to round out the thirteen. She had been so pleased when she had been accepted. She was beginning to regret her choice of covens to study with.

They all sat quietly on the floor as the house was methodically picked apart. There was a lot of chatter when the bag of human bones was found hanging from the rafters. Yes, she was really regretting her choice.

Gordy had kept herself together the entire time, had an answer for everything. Even when they moved to the small shed out back, their goddess sat quietly.

That small shed was a death trap…or a snake’s paradise…or something unholy! Once, Penelope had been sent to retrieve a bag of sand from that shed. It was impossible to navigate. There were things stacked to the ceiling and in no particular order or placed or any type of foundation. She had been in constant fear that those window boxes that were next to the ceiling on the very top of those large clay pots were going to fall on her.

She did not think the FBI would be as worried as she was.

About ten minutes later, a team came back inside.

“Found the false floor in the shed. Which means we also found the crate of hand grenades. Interesting, the ten on top were real, the rest of the crate was packed with training grenades, which will not produce an explosion.”

Gordy started screaming. “Our money! Our money!” They had not only been cheated of their money, but the product as well.

Agent Smithers just could not help himself. He prided himself that he did not start laughing. “I do hope you did not pay for those. Just so you know, a trunk full of gold bullion was offered to several packmasters to store the munitions for them.

Now, we will be escorting all of you for questioning. Those of you who met with Compton tonight, we are very interested in talking with you.”

It was an out-of-body experience for Penelope. As she stood to be handcuffed to be taken away, there on the floor in a perfect circle were the words, dragon. She watched as the smoke settled on top of the words and there took shape and the perfect form of a dragon. It was lying down, with his head resting on its paws, its purple eyes watching her with interest. As she was being led away, the dragon shifted. Blew her a kiss, gave her a wink and a smile and then the smoke disappeared.

In a few more hours it would be sunrise. Lafayette was sound asleep upstairs and O.I. was tucked in with him, sleeping with one eye open as dragons were want to do. That way they kept guard, chased the future in dreams and listened for anything concerning dragons that the universe might be spitting out…and tonight the spitting had been in earnest.

O.I. did not enjoy being the subject of speculation or spit.

So when some nasty mo’ fo’n evil doers started hen-scratchin’ dragon on the floor, he took a closer look and just to make their lives a bit more uncomfortable, he started billowing smoke around them.

Then it got even better. Those nice men and women from the FBI showed up and chained all those ugly asses and took them away. Which made him smile in his sleep. Which made Lafayette smile in his sleep.

The small dragon opened both eyes and stared over at his big man. “Mo’ fo’n,” he grinned and kissed Lafayette on the forehead, “it is good to be home.”

Eric was getting ready to turn in for the day when his phone went off. “Will this night ever end?” he sighed as he looked and answered, “Director, were you able to use the photo?”

“Cannot thank you enough,” Ben smiled at the phone. “We found the women and on one of their phones was the number to the Krasiki Coven. After being routed around the world and back a couple of times we finally located where they now call home.”

“Yes, and it is not in Budapest, is it?” Eric asked, but he knew the answer. That was just the way the smell of this Were shit was drifting.

“Outside of London,” Castle answered. “But you knew that.”

“I did considerable damage to them in Budapest in the past. Just be forewarned Director. Several hundred years ago, this coven worshiped the devil. I doubt that has changed. Back when no adult missed the poor children living on the street, the small ones were a favorite sacrifice for big dark lord favors. With today’s electronics, anyone missing, that message can be flashed instantly around the world. I am sure this coven is sacrificing something, I would just be hard pressed as to what it is. And they have engaged Weres for security. Or so it seems.

We are out the door to London in a matter of twenty-four hours or less. Do you want my team to handle this?”

“No,” the director replied and Eric could hear him shaking his head. “We are turning this over to Scotland Yard. I will pass along your information.”

“If I can be of service, please just let me know. Enjoy your time in the sunshine,” Eric said.

“Rest well this day,” came the reply and the two clicked off.

Taking a moment, Eric looked skyward. “Whoever sent to us O.I., I thank you.”

Shutting down his office, he thought about the days to come…nights that would be filled with the smells of Yuletide and Sookie.

With that pleasant thought, he entered his sleep chamber and closed the door, locking out the world and locking in his dreams.

Sookie was lazing about in bed, neither awake or asleep when she smelled coffee. “Oh-h-h-h,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “coffee. I could get up for some of that.”

Pulling on her comfy house coat, she slipped into her house shoes and made her way downstairs. She could hear voices in the kitchen and there was a lot of “Mo’ fo’n” being tossed about so early in the morning. “So Gran is not making the coffee. Works for me. I love you Gran, but Lafayette does make the better cup of coffee.”

The boys had been hard at work. There was coffee. There were omelets being made out of tasty leftovers, and Lafayette did indeed have a soul mate. Just listen to those two finish each others sentences!

“’Mornin’,” she said coming in and collecting her kisses. “You guys look smokin’ hot in that blue eyeshadow this mornin’ with matchin’ headwraps. And did you do your nails already?”

“Sure nuff’s,” Lafayette answered. “We got us a powerful and righteous nights rest. Best I have slept since ever!” he shouted, “And amen and hallelujah!”

“My little man’s, flip that bacon would you. I am watchin’ this egg fineness and its cheese go all melty good.”

“Gran been this way yet?” she asked.

“Mm-m-m-m hm-m-m-m,” O.I. answered, turning from the stove. “They had their shower and then she and Mr. Scully sat themselves down and she ate hers straight out of the skillet.

Thinks she is making her bathroom door light tight and his fine self will be restin’ in there this day. Gran got his measurements and is gonna’ go shoppin’ for him shortly. She wants to get home before the skank sets in.”

“The what?” Sookie asked, wondering if she had not understood O.I.

“The skank,” the dragon said with disgust in his voice. “There is sure ‘nuff a skank headed this way, today and Gran wants to get home before it gets all skanked up outside.”

“You know this?” Sookie was looking wide-eyed at O.I.

“Mm-m-m hm-m-m,” O.I. nodded. “A dragon is always on the watch for those who want to do him wrong. Lots of skanks evokin’ the dragon name last night. The FBI fineness stopped by and found nasty things lurkin’ in not so good hidin’ places.

This skank comin’ here today, she stopped by the witch’s house later last night with a key, took a look around, took photos, and peed on the floor and then rubbed it into the dragon words.”

“Nasty assed bitch,” Lafayette said nodding his head. “Obviously no home trainin’. Should have her nose rubbed in it.”

“Mm-m-m hm-m, my big man’s is right about that. She is headed this way out of New Orleans. Is comin’ on with her big nasty lawyer ways and wantin’ what belongs to everyone else. “

“Wow,” Sookie smiled and held out her plate for a piece of bacon, “O.I., I am glad you are on our side.”

“Thank you Miss Sookie,” he said with a bow of his head. “Now, my big man’s has got the cheese all melty goodness, have some toast and sit down and eats.”

As Sookie was having her second cup of coffee and finishing off a let over chocolate mousse, Gran came into the kitchen. “Mornin’ Sookie,” she said giving her a kiss on the top of he head.

“I have all of Scully’s measurements so I am off to Wal-Mart to purchase him a few needful things,” she announced to the room. “I think some Levi’s and a couple of t-shirts, under wear things, and a few pullover long-sleeved somethings for just hanging around the house and for the fly over to London.”

All three nodded in agreement.

“I am going to stop off at the farm store and get him a pair of cowboy boots. Tony Lama I understand still makes a nice product.

Something a little dressy but not too fancy,” she said thoughtfully. “You know Sunday best but not with a tux. Work boots will perhaps come later.”

“Okay Gran,” Sookie smiled at her as the older woman kissed all her grandchildren, fluttered her hand and was out the door.

“So,” Sookie hesitated, “you two saw Scully this morning.”

“Yes,” Lafayette grinned. “Chances are good you are not goin’ to recognize him.”

“What?” Sookie said jerking her head up from her dessert, causing her spoon to clang on the inside of the dish.

“Am believin’ it is love,” Lafayette chuckled. “Now, my little man’s let us check the ice box for dessert since we ate a hearty breakfast. I hear chocolates calling to us.”

Gran was back before lunchtime, just barely, laden with packages and bags. “I had a real good mornin’,” she said proudly as she displayed her goods. “This blue fleece, the exact color of Scully’s eyes. I think he will look real handsome in it. And look at these boots,” she grinned, fishing out the Tony Lama box. “Look at this,” she said with pride. “Black ostrich for the foot with a charcoal upper. Look at all this red and gold embroidery! I got him the square toe, just like your grandpa used to wear. He always preferred those to the pointed. Said they were more comfortable.

Eleven inches of the finest leather there is to protect his feet and never go out of style.”

“Lordies woman. La La needs his shades to protect his eyes, the shines on those are so fierce.”

“Your man will be stylin’ and profilin’,” O.I. nodded in agreement. “With them bluest of jeans and that righteous Gator Wrestlin’ is not for Sissies pure Louisiana t-shirt, Mr. Scully is good to go.”

“You think he will be pleased,” she asked the group, just a bit of doubt in her voice.

“Of course he will be pleased,” Sookie hugged her, “his woman bought them for him.”

A smile lit up the older’s woman’s face. “I haven’t been someone’s woman in thirty years,” she said, as she wiped at her eyes.

“Well,” Lafayette hugged her. “I’d say you have some makin’ up to do. Tonight is that dance at the Lion’s Club. You two should go steppin’ out for a bit. If Mr. Eric wants to leave before midnight, we’ll call you home to pack a toothbrush cause we is gonna be doin’ a healthy boost to the British economy.

Now, how about lunch? I thinks we gots enough prime rib for everyone to have a sandwich with some sweet potato fries.”

Lafayette had just taken the sour cream Dutch apple pie out of the oven and they were all against waiting on it to cool.

“That takes a couple of hours,” Sookie said woefully. “Just dish it up like you would cobbler and pass the vanilla ice cream.”

“That’s a mighty good plan,” O.I. said taking a big whiff of the pie. “It smells like all kinds of goodness.”

“Like cobbler,” Lafayette shrugged as O.I. dipped a talon in and drew out a hunk and put it in his mouth. When his little man’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head Lafayette knew defeat. “Dish it up like cobbler,” he nodded, putting away the pie server and got out a serving spoon and put everything in the middle of the table.

Before the pie was finished, O.I. was in the ice box, sorting through the boxes and dishes and freshness of things that was stored there.

“My big man’s, did I see another pie in here? Thoughts I did.”

“That’s a cheese cake,” Sookie replied as she eyed the ice cream. “That’s what those fresh strawberries are for. To go on the cheese cake.”

“That apple pie is sure ‘nuff now gone,” O.I. said pitifully. “Just abouts the last of the ice creams also. Was mighty good,” he sighed, looking over at the table. “Never had me any cheese cakes. Don’t know strawberries, either. But just by the smell alone, they make wakin’ up just one more reason to rejoice,” he added with great big round innocent eyes.

“I’m game,” Sookie replied. “O.I., you need some help? I can clean the strawberries if you’ll cut and serve.”

“Can do Miss Sookie,” he smiled. “I’ll get down some more dessert plates.”

It was another afternoon of sitting in the living room and drinking porto. There were full bellies and sleepy eyes and soft smiles as they all talked about the good days to come.

O.I. finished his glass and then belched out, “Skank is comin’ to town,” to the tune of Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

“Want me to get the door, Gran?” Lafayette offered. “I can offer my lawyer bullshit to her lawyer bullshit.”

“Would that be so very rude of me?” she asked the group. “I did just pour the glass of porto. And it is delicious. And she is a skank. I have dealt with skanks. Must I deal with one more, today? One that comes callin’ at my own front door. Takin’ my time and keepin’ me from my family.”

“Of course not,” Sookie shook her head. “We have this. You just sit there and relax and we will handle this.”

Laney Goodfellow was a lawyer that represented the covens whenever they could not cast a spell and take care of things for themselves. It also helped that Goody was her cousin and called on her for things of a less magical matter.

She had spent the day driving up from New Orleans, the center of the universe, to Bon Temps, the place farthest from the center of the universe!

When she had passed through Baton Rouge, she knew all was lost when she saw the last bastion of civilization in her rear view mirror. My gawd. They sold strawberry moon pies at the gas station where she stopped. She had been afraid to look at the expiration date, if there was one on it at all!

Now here she was. Looking for the friends, blood bags and the family manse of one lower than Were shit Bill Compton.

She knew that his house had blown up. So she would start with the neighbors. Vampires moved in and surrounding folks got glamoured and vampire shit just got left sitting in a box just inside the victim’s door. Such was the way of the weak-willed. Pawns in a game they could never hope to win.

“My gawd,” she shook her head when she pulled into the dirt drive. “It is worse than I thought. Compton feeds here for free.”

Walking up to the front door, she knocked. There were voices inside and a cheer went up, supposedly when someone got up to open the door.

The front door opened and there stood perhaps the most beautiful black, gay male she had ever seen! And would you just look at the dragon torque he was wearing! Hubba, hubba! Maybe Compton had paid them for keeping something of his after all. If it was more munitions, they would be hers along with any and all monies and jewelry.

“Yes,” was all Lafayette said.

“My name is Laney Goodfellow. I am a lawyer representing a class action lawsuit out of New Orleans. Do you happen to know a vampire by the name of William T. Compton?”

“Cheap assed, ass licking bastard,” Lafayette replied with a straight face and cheers went up from inside.

Laney was now intrigued. Who was in there making all that noise? Stepping to one side she tried to peer in. Lafayette took another step out the door and blocked her view.

“Have you or anyone you know done any work for him?” she ventured a step forward.

“No,” was the reply.

“That’s a beautiful torque, looks very old. Ancient, even. Like something a vampire might gift to you,” she said with a sardonic smile. “Any chance you want to change that answer.”

“No,” Lafayette replied, this time bending down to look in her face.

The opportunity was just too good to pass up. She had pulled this little ploy of hers once or twice before. The farther out in the sticks you had to go, the easier it got.

“I am a lawyer, an officer of the court. And Judge James Hardy has deputized me so that I might deliver this search warrant to you,” she said, taking the envelop out of her jacket pocket. “So I will need you to stand aside so that I might enter.”

Lafayette stretched out his hand.

“What?” she said.

“I want to read the warrant,” he replied.

That caused her to have a moment. Well, once before it had gotten this far. It was an official warrant. And Judge Hardy had signed it. Handing it over, Lafayette took it out and read through it. Then he put the envelope down the front of his pants.

“What the…” she glared at him.

“I used to clerk for Judge Hardy. He died five years ago. I have two witnesses inside who heard your lying self and just as soon as you leave, I am calling the Sheriff and he is coming out here and we are all signing sworn statements as to the unlawful bull-l-l-l-l-l-l shit-t-t-t-t-t you just tried to pull. And I am in possession of the evidence to back it up. Or you can stick around and the Sheriff can take you into custody here.”

“Oh shit!” she yelled, trying to make a grab for the front of Lafayette’s pants as he stepped back into the house and closed the door.

“Give that to me or I will fucking break down this door,” she yelled.

The door opened again and there stood Sookie with her shotgun. “I am gonna put holes all in your car then I am gonna turn this on you for tresspassin’. Before I do that, I suggest you move along.”

“Shit,” she screeched as she backed down the porch and took off running for her car. Once she was in, Sookie fired at the ground and kicked up dirt and small pebbles all over the side of the car. With screeching tires and burning rubber, the skank of the day was gone.

Closing the door, Lafayette took the envelope out of his jeans.

“Judge Hardy was a good man. Put the law above all else. I did a little clerking for him my Sophomore year at Tulane. Been keeping up with him ever since. It was a sad day for justice when that man passed over.

And to have that skank…” he bit off the words.

“Let’s call Andy,” Sookie said putting her arms around him. “We have to get this done before we leave town.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Laney was still beating her fists on the steering wheel as she drove past the sign for Bon Temps. “Shit!” she screamed at the top of her lungs and then pulled over and thought about what she had to do next. It was only a Gibbous moon but a Were wolf could shift if there was enough money involved.

Dialing a number she smiled when she head the growl at the other end along with the bar noises. Good, he was honkey tonking. So he had a little cash and was feeling invincible. Had to love a Were that was drunk and thought he was invincible.

“Jacob, I have a job for you. Three folks, at ten thousand apiece. But I need it done today. Like right fucking now. Where are you?”

“Visiting my Momma in Hosston.”

“Where is Hosston?”

“On a lake, north of Shreveport.”

“Perfect. The three I need removed live outside of Bon Temps. Just across from the cemetery. Stackhouse is the family name. Old two-story farmhouse with a front porch. Old yellow small Honda looking car, an old navy blue DeSoto and an old black Volvo parked in the dirt drive. Inside the house is one male, two females. And they have a shot-gun.”

There was laughter. “All rednecks have a shot-gun. My momma has a collection of them. She would rather use one of those than a fishing pole when we drop a line off the dock.”

Staring cross-eyed at her phone, she gave it the finger. “Fishing with your momma, I get that. Are you available?”

“Yep, I’ll be by for the cash next time I am in N.O.”

“Excellent. And you know the I expect proof –of-death. That has not changed.

“I’ll bring an ear from each one.”

“Most excellent. I am on my way back to New Orleans. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Did you spell the land?” he asked. “You know it is not a full moon. And I have needs. Special ones. And those needs call for a spell.”

“Of course I spelled the land,” she hissed back at him. “I know what you need and expect. The land will except their blood and they won’t haunt you.”

“Good, ‘cause the last time I did a job for you and you did not spell the land, that ghost moved in with my X. His dick is bigger than mine and she threw me out.”

“Got that,” she was shaking her fist in the air, pretending she was knocking Jacob’s teeth out with a ball-peen hammer. “No ghost with a big dick.”

“That’s right. I’ll be there after sundown. I’m taking Momma to the spaghetti dinner at the volunteer fire station.”

Hanging up her phone in a disgusted voice she said, “Whatever…! Weres will fuck anything! And they apparently do no draw the line at dead!” Pulling back onto the road, she headed for New Orleans.

“I will call Andy and let’s get this done,” Lafayette said pouring himself a porto. “We has got to get to London!”

Andy and Kendra sat in the Stackhouse living room with the video camera rolling as each told their story.

When they had finished, the Sheriff just shook his head in disgust. “You know, probably not the first time she has done this. This paper looks like it has a bit of wear and tear on it. I wonder how many things she has stolen over the years?”
“Just walkin’ into poor folks homes like she is somebody,” Sookie said angrily. “Takin’ anythin’ of value and sayin’ they can have it back after the trial.”

“And you think she was lookin’ for more of Compton’s arms?” Kendra asked.

“Well, she kept asking about Compton,” Gran replied. “Wanting to know if we knew him had done any work for him. I think she is in on this arms dealing,” she added with a sure nod of her head. “Or wants to be.”

“I think that warrant can attest to that fact, Gran,” Lafayette nodded. “Up to no good she was, thinking she could walk in here, take a look around and walk out with whatever she had a mind to take.”

“I’ll push this through official channels and I suspect she will have some explaining to do once the law catches up to her,” Andy said rising.

“Thanks Sheriff, Kendra, for comin’ on out,” Sookie walked with them to the door.

“Doing our job,” Kendra smiled at her.

“Adele, Lafayette,” the Sheriff said nodding his head. “I’ll let you know when we hear anything back.”

“Thanks,” they all three said.

Sookie stood on the porch and waved to them good-bye. When they were out of sight, she went back in.

“Skank,” O.I. muttered as he unwound from around his big man’s neck and helped himself to the porto. “Deep, dark, nasty smellin’ skank. Shew!”

“Just how dirty do you think she is?” Gran asked.

“Plenty,” Lafayette said. “Why?”

“You think she will be back?”

“Let her come,” O.I. chuckled. “We gots the cure for evil doin’ skank.”

“Well alright. O.I., I am trustin’ you to sleep with your one eye open,” Gran kissed him on the snout.

“With pleasure, Gran,” the small dragon smiled and wiggled his eyebrows as the bottle was passed and glasses were raised in a toast to the downfall of all skanks!

Eric woke before sundown. He smiled when he saw the message from Sookie.

Listening to it, he began to plan a killing spree.

“What the fuck?” he snarled as he listened to the message again. Looked at the photo of the warrant that lying bitch had tried to pass off.

Eric mumbled to himself. “We have got to get out-of-town, tonight. Enough of this Were shit!”

Off went a text to Samuel. Leaving tonight. Your plane or mine? Decide and then contact The Child.

There was a message from the Director. Opening it, there was a list of the witches that had been taken into custody along with the message: Just so you know.

“Goodfellow!” his mind screamed as he began to connect the dots. So the witch and the lawyer were related. He began his search for the lawyer on-line. The rest of this little drama would be played out at his leisure. But for right now, it was time to get the fuck out-of-town before he became so bogged down in this that it would be summer time before he could go anywhere.

Samuel’s ping came back. Plane is fueled and ready. Leaving NO. Contacted The Child. Will see us at the Shreveport airport. Bring your passport.

Eric made a phone call to SafePass, the home monitoring system he owned and used.

“This is Eric Northman. Ms. Jenkins, please,” he said.

“Gail, I need a house wired; now please.”

“Yes of course Mr. Northman, give me the address and we will have someone on their way out as soon as we hang up.

And I am going to want to have this house tied directly into the Bon Temps police station.”

“Of course sir,” she replied as she wrote down the directions to the house.

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, he finally got to place a call to Sookie.

“Hello Lover,” and the grin lit up his face when he saw her. “Business is finished except for the fact that a SafePass truck is on its way to your house to wire you into the grid. With any kind of luck we should arrive at about the same time.

We are leaving tonight for London. Just as soon as the house is wired. So Gran and Scully can have their sweet alone time because eventually it is going to be our turn.”

“Can’t wait,” she blew him a kiss.

“See you in about an hour, Lover,” and the way he said the word made Sookie shiver all over. Seeing his desired results, his eyes smoldered at her for moment then grinning at her he blew her a kiss and hung up.

As soon as the sun went down, Eric had one more phone call to make. He called the Director and explained what had happened at Sookie’s today.

“This Were shit just does not stop,” Ben said with disgust.

“I know Director,” Eric countered. “That is why, as soon as I hang up, I am going to Sookie’s, collecting my back up team and we are out of the country. With a toothbrush and passport in hand, we shall be landing in London before sunrise. Maybe sooner if we catch a good tail wind.”

“Safe journey, Eric. And thanks for the information.”

“You are so very welcome, sir. Joyeux Noël,” he added before he hung up.

“And to you as well,” Ben smiled and then disconnected.

“Fucking. Were. Shit.” Castle was shaking his head. Dialing another number he said, “Pick up Laney Goodfellow. Read the following attachments and act accordingly. And yes, she is related to and lawyers for her cousin, Gordy Goodfellow, another piece of this Compton arms-dealing nightmare.”

Eric called Pamela. “Child,” he began, “you are more than welcome to fly with us tonight. But here is what is new in the ongoing arms race.”

Pam listened, intrigued. “This Laney Goodfellow,” she smiled. “Me thinks she has a doer of dirty deeds. If she wants to keep her license, those in the house will have to be dead.”

“Was my thinking,” Eric responded. “But that does not mean I am willing to short you of a good time in London.”

“Oh my maker,” honey dripped from her tongue, “I will have my own good time if Laney puts this in play. I’ll stick around and see you in London with the new dark.”

Eric arrived just behind the SafePass truck and Gran was there to show the technicians around. As he shut off the engine, Sookie was down the steps and out to the Jeep Grand Cherokee he was driving tonight. It was big, it was black, and it looked important.

Opening his door, he steeped out and she was there in is arms.

“Missed you,” she said, wrapping herself around him. “Do you need to eat? I know a great place for carry out. Wow, this has that new car smell,” she said looking inside. “It would be great for delivering carry out.”

The smile covered his face, showcasing his fangs. “Carry out. I like the sound of that. Was there someplace in particular you wanted me to carry you to?”

“Well, folks are busy in the house. And by the way, wait until you see Scully. I did not recognize him. But back to talking about my vampire. How about…oh, I don’t know? I am liking this new car smell. This could work.

And do you want a quickie to go with that take out?”

“So many options,” Eric sighed, looking concerned. “And sides to choose from,” he said running his hand down her skirt, pushing aside her panties and then slipping his fingers into her.

Reaching up, he turned off the overhead light and in the quiet of the dark and the new car smell, he nuzzled her neck. Hm-m-m, she was not yet moaning. Time to change that.

“M-m-m,” she panted as he scissored her insides, listening to her heart rate speed up.

Reaching for his zipper, his pants were undone and she found herself being impaled on him, while his fingers now did things to her clit.

“Please,” she whispered as he was now vamp speed, his penis pounding into her while his fingers made her clit sing while she vibrated all over!

Wrapping herself tighter around him, she exploded and when she felt him bite, she exploded again!

When he grunted, he ejaculated inside of her, the squirt, squirt, squirt hitting the back of her vagina with enough force that she could feel it.

Eric healed the wounds on her neck and then pulled her in close. “Sorry,” he nuzzled her ear. “We did not make it all the way into the Jeep.”

“Yes, but we still had that new car smell,” she said rubbing her face on his chest.

“I could not have waited; I think it was the sides that got me,” he said running his fingers around the side of the leg of her panties. “I love those sides.”

“Me too,” she drew back and kissed him. “So, as soon as the house is wired, we are gone?” and he could hear the hesitation in her voice.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Apparently witches and their lawyers are all in on this arms deal. And who knows whom else Compton thought he could influence. He knows all the losers in Louisiana and apparently he chatted up all of them.”

“Before something else blows up,” she pulled him down for a kiss, “let’s be gone. Not that I am complaining, but I would hate for our quickies to become the norm. I really liked the longie. I am glad my first time is out-of-the-way and was a longie. I would not have wanted it to be a quickie. What we did was perfect.”

“It should never be like this,” he groused. “And there should never have been quickies,” Eric stated matter-of-fact, “and never are they to become the norm. And every time,” he pulled her up and devoured her mouth, his hands massaging her ass as he ground against her, “every time,” he whispered in her ear, “is to be perfect.”

She felt him slip between her nether lips, his force pushing her clothes into her.

“Let’s get inside so we can get to London so we can have a bedroom,” she sighed into his ear.

With a small growl, Eric set her on the ground. Righting herself, she smiled at him and shifted King Eric back into place. Walking arm-in-arm, they made their way up the steps and through the front door.

With the newest of the new technology, it took one hour to wire the house, sign the work order and for SafePass to pull out of the driveway.

“One last thing,” O.I. said fluttering to the door. “This here electronic flashing lights and messages to our phones is well and goods. But I am gonna’ go to my original dragon size and pee all around the property. This will keep predators away. So if you feel the earth shakin’ just a bit, that’s just me, walkin’. I’ll be back shortlies.”

“Everyone has their overnight bag,” Lafayette said checking out the crowd. “Let’s set the alarm and get ourselves out the door and into the Jeep. I do not feel like waitin’ around for the sky to fall or for Were Wolves to howl.”

“Good thought,” Eric nodded in agreement. “Samuel is meeting us in Shreveport with the 757. Pamela is waiting a day. She wants to keep an eye on the place tonight.

We’ll clear customs in Shreveport and be in route. There are plenty of beds on the plane for when you get sleepy.

Scully, if you would grab Gran’s bag, let’s be out the door.”

It was a lively ride to the airport. Eric talked about his favorite places in London and where they must go to experience the full London baptism. Shows to see, what actor was doing what part and then finish of the evening by having a late dinner overlooking the Thames.

They arrived at the airport and drove out to where the plane was sitting. Then they were through customs, greeted Samuel with hugs and kisses as they got on and settled in. The humans admiring Samuel’s good taste and apparently unlimited budget!

Plans were made and clothing was discussed and the official day would start when on the British Isle they pulled into Ian’s London city manor home.

“It is on St. James Place along with the Spencer Mansion and a few other of the noble families,” Eric showed them on the map on the big screen. “His house is named Blessing’s Kew. Famous for its old Bibles and other religious treaties and artifacts. Those things have since been donated to a museum, but of course, the name stays.”

As they streaked through the night sky, the humans along with two vampires, excused themselves. Lafayette went off to the land of sweet dreams and Gran and Sookie went off with their vampire escorts to have wild and nasty sex in the bedroom of choice.

Samuel continued to sit and work with O.I. perched on his shoulder as they discussed tax write-offs.

When Eric came out, he sat down next to his brother.

“O.I. assures me he has this during the day,” Samuel said looking over at Eric. “I know you have been worried.”

“Were shit just continues to happen,” Eric rolled his eyes. “Just got a call from the Director. Apparently a Were called while they were interrogating Laney Goodfellow this evening. They put her phone on speaker. The Were said he could not approach the house to kill the three humans because there was a big predator that stalked the Stackhouse land. She was going to have to pay him thirty-thousand for each death instead of thirty thousand for all three.”

O.I. just grinned. “Big predator. True dat!”

“When I catch up with Compton,” Eric’s grin was deadly, “he is so fucked.”

Joyeux Noël Chapter 10


The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M

Joyeux Noël

Chapter 10

When your maker is The Viking and he has perhaps hauled your trouble-making ass out of New Orleans more than once or even twice, you had a tendency to not announce your presence in said town.

Pamela was presently down in a culvert at the corner of Arabella and Patton. Monitoring the crowd above her, humans were out and about and a Were Wolf or two took their smelly asses past while they discussed howling rights.

For such a wonderful child as herself, it had been a busy new dark. Upon rising, she had come straight to this bar in a disguise and smelling slightly of coal oil. Which was the best vampire blocking smell in the world.

The New Orleans true to the trade old-time witches still cast spells in the light of a coal oil lamp. Candles were only practical if you lived where there were no drafts. Unless you catered to the Hollywood crowd, your lifestyle reflected your beliefs and so did your pocketbook. Chances were good your home lacked air conditioning and due to the windows being open it was a bit drafty.

“Glad it is not going to rain,” she said to the rat that was carefully inspecting her. “And you should be thankful as well. Get a gator down in here and he would eat a rat on a whim,” she said with an all-knowing voice. “I have seen them do it.”

The rat blinked and looked around and moved in closer to her.

“You think I am going to protect your furry ass?” she asked.

The rat inched in closer to her as his eyes once more looked around and then chattered at her.

“Really?” she arched an eyebrow at him. “You expect me to believe you were on the dock when that boat blew up?”

There was more rat gossip as Pamela played close attention. “Well, okay then. We have a deal. You keep watch on my six. If a gator makes his way in, I’ll kill it and the feast is yours.”

With a nod of his head, the rat went back to minding the tunnel, hoping for the meal of several life times.

Pam was all about attention to detail. The smallest thing is what always saved your ass or made your outfit unforgettable. Anything that was out-of-place was suspect and noted. And that included wearing the wrong pumps while carrying an even wronger handbag. Posers abounded!

The witches that had given them problems in Shreveport had left behind a book of matches at one of their fires. The matches had originated from the Witches’ Mead and Thyme. A local Wicca hangout in New Orleans that was not for tourists. Which is why she was here playing spy and chatting up a rat. She had done her homework. This was a low-key, off the tourist route selfie photo opportunity, bar and herbalist. This is where the witches came to unwind, chat, and bitch in general amongst their own kind.

Having gone in earlier, she had planted a few listening and viewing devices and now her mobile phone was eavesdropping on everyone in the room. As the dark progressed, business was picking up and the day was forgotten as the whisky was poured and the women discussed just how well HRM and managed to fuck it up for everyone.

“It is so good to be the child of The Viking,” Pam smiled as she watched the covens gather for a drink and rub herbals between their hands in a cleansing ritual.

Apparently, because of the Feds, it had been a slow day on the streets of New Orleans. There was plenty of bitching about low revenues, cold feet, colder asses and the fact that the bar had raised the price on all their single malts, forcing some of them to drink blended whiskys.

“I should have such a day,” she snickered. “If I was to double the price of the top shelf alcohol, the fangbangers would all have heart-attacks and just drink beer.

The witches just complain and order doubles. Damn, we need a different breed of clientele.

Oh, now that’s interesting,” she smiled as she watched the Weres that had passed her enter the establishment. They settled at the bar and also ordered whisky. “Since when,” she snickered, “do Weres spend that kind of money on alcohol? Well, when someone else is buying of course.”

A woman entered and headed straight for them. Making a gesturing motion with her hand at the barkeep, all three headed toward the stairs and then disappeared.

With a hop Pam was now standing on street level, hoping to see if a light turned on in a room that she could see. The windows were shuttered but she could see a match spring to life and a candle being lit.

Then Were shit just continued to happen. The bell on the shop door rang and looking at her phone, none other than Bill Compton stepped through and headed up stairs.

“Listen,” she said to the rat, “you do this for me and I will purchase for you whatever you want. I will get you to that wall, but I need you to climb it and listen in at the window for me.”

There was a squeak of agreement.

“I have to stay hidden. But I will be listening for you. Make it to the ground and I will be around to get you.” Picking her wingman up, they were across the street and Mr. Rat was climbing up the brick wall. Finding a comfortable spot on the window ledge, he settled in and started making his list of durable goods while he listened in to the conversations.

Pam was back down in the culvert with her phone in text mode. Just saw Compton in a bar in New Orleans. WTF? Have spy listening in. More to follow.

Then she hit send.

There was a party going on in the kitchen! Lafayette and O.I. were the stars of the show while Miss Adele and Scully were now making eyes at each other.

“Will not be long before they excuse themselves, “ Eric thought to himself. He wished to be excused also! Sookie had been holding his hand and lightly rubbing her fingers on top of his! Occasionally he would make a fist and grasp one while she pulled it in and out of the well-fitting cavity he had made for it.

His phone was vibrating madly in his pocket. The only time it did that was when Pamela called.

Taking his phone out, he read her message then read it again.

“Excuse me,” he kissed Sookie lightly. “I have to take this.”

Walking into her bedroom, he closed the door and sent another text message. Director. Compton is out and has been spotted in New Orleans. WTF?

Hitting send, the message was on its way.

Benjamin Castle was hosting a sit down dinner for twelve. Nothing big or fancy, but once a month he had his friends over for a wine tasting followed on by a homey by nice dinner. Tonight it was stuffed, baked salmon. Not difficult or taxing to put together. But with a great big lemon wedge, steamed broccoli and an Asian salad, it was good eating at its best.

Vibrating in his jacket pocket was his phone. Three shakes, two shakes, one shake, he carefully counted. Well shit, it was Northman!

“I have to take this,” he smiled, standing. “Should just be a moment.”

Walking into his study, he closed the door and opened the text.

“What the fuck?” he hissed and then punched in a number.

“Director, I can explain,” a bureaucrat’s voice began. “Senator Bilcox and the committee agreed with Compton’s plea bargain to turn him loose and he would lead us to his maker and who knows what other terrorists she is making deals with.”

“Fucking Were shit,” he hissed. “I want Bilcox and his committee in my office first thing in the morning.”

“Yes sir.”

Hitting end with more force that necessary, he hissed, “Fucking Were shit,” he growled as he typed into his phone.

He made a deal with the Supernatural Committee stating he would lead them to his maker. When you find him, I leave him in your hands.

Eric read the message and did some silent swearing, himself. Walking back to the kitchen, he stuck his head in and motioned to Samuel.

When the others regarded him, he smiled and shook his head.

Sitting down in the living room he began. “They cut Compton loose. They believed him when he said he would lead them to his maker.

Pam spotted him in New Orleans. She has someone listening in on Compton right now. As soon as that conversation is over, she will get back to me.”

“I have this,” Samuel nodded. “I’ll start tracking the money flow.”

“Thanks,” Eric smiled at his brother and hugged him. “Who the fuck knows where that monster Lorena, is? At one time they were enamored of the Pacific Northwest. They terrorized British Columbia for a couple of decades before they moved on to upper state New York.

But as much trouble as Lorena is in, I think her first inclination would be to head home. Where she is the most comfortable and feels the safest.”

“Hm-m-m,” Samuel replied, going through his files. “Very nice of Bill to do this who is whom in the vampire world for us. Apparently he was turned by Lorena in a log cabin at the end of the Civil War.

He says here he fought valiantly in the Battle of Nashville. So he would have made his way home through Mississippi and on into Louisiana. That would have been the shortest distance. Her cabin would be somewhere along this route.

I am looking,” Samuel said, concentrating on the screen, “for something a bit more palatial, along this track, today. Some plantation off the beaten path just a bit, where she would have purchased the land and built something a bit more to show off her now moneyed status.

And I believe I have found it. It is in Shelby County, Tennessee. On the Tennessee, Mississippi border, just south of Memphis. This land has been in the Zultan family since before the Civil War. Still belongs to a family member today. The new home is on the original log cabin site and is built-in the antebellum Federal style and furnished as such with period antiques. Some coming from the original family home in Budapest.”

“Interesting,” Eric grinned. “What else?”

“Looking through the permits, blueprints, etc., it is all couched in vampire legalize. If she is not the owner, it is her sister.”

“One moment please,” Eric had out his phone, “while I forward this information.

Oh, wait one. Information from Pamela.”

Compton literally ran though the meeting with the witches. He tells them the deal is off. He is leaving the country. His parting shot to them. You would still have your money if you had buried it in your backyard. He then jumped out a window.

I am on the move. Will have a photo of the witches. See you with the new dark.


A few moments later, Eric’s phone beeped again and opening the file, there were indeed photos. Five nude women sat at a table with a shocked look on their faces. Pam had obviously used a flash.

Showing it to Samuel, all the small vampire could do was shake his head.

There was one happy rat sitting in the culvert at the corner of Arabella and Patton. He was surrounded by a wall of donuts, oatmeal cookies and bags of marshmallows; a deep dish cheese pizza and a bowl of tequila. And not the cheap stuff. He had drunk the cheap stuff. Left him with double vision and an upset stomach. And that was saying something. After all, he was a rat.

Easing his way into another bag of marshmallows, he grinned. He would eat until he could not consume another bite. And who knew when that would be. Alcohol always gave him the munchies.

All during his meal, Ben Castle felt his phone going off and had to excuse himself to take the message. With Eric’s last text, he fired off a few of his own.

Open the file on Bilcox. Send me everything.

That information bounced right back to him. Castle skimmed through it all. It was easy. Bilcox was a wanna be vampire. A please turn me fangbanger of the worst sort. Punching in a code, the miniscule silver particles were now being dumped into the Senator’s water supply, both at home and in his office. All his buddy-buddy vampire friends would smell the silver and would now keep their distance. There would be no snacking, no turning or late night deals for the good senator. There just might, however, be a fatal accident. The vamps would smell the silver and wonder just who he had pissed off and why? They were a suspicious lot and hated a traitor. Bilcox’s days just might be coming to an end.

Eric was still standing and talking to Samuel when Sookie stuck her head out. “What’s up?”

“Compton has been released on the promise that he lead the Feds to his maker. Pamela just saw him in New Orleans with some witches. Apparently, he cheated them out of some money. They were perhaps investors in the arms cache or not. That is yet to be determined.”

“We are still going to London,” Sookie nodded. “Hey guys,” she stuck her head back into the kitchen. “New development. Compton is on the run and we are still going to London.”

“Give us the story and the juicy parts,” Lafayette said coming out, O.I. perched on his shoulder and both of them carrying a shot of tequila.

“This night is never going to fucking end,” Eric sighed to himself, smiled and indicated everyone was to sit.

“Mo fo’n,” O.I. kept muttering as Eric told the story. “Sorry assed witches,” his right eye would twitch, purple lights would flash from it and then he would shake all over as the intricate details were explained.

“Knew nasty assed evil in the First Age, my big man’s and me did. No wonder you wokes me up,” his voice was filled with righteousness. “Old nasty assed evil from the First Age is still walkin’ the earth!” he hissed as Eric passed around the photo of the naked witches.

“Well,” Gran nodded. “O.I., I am glad you are here now with Lafayette. You two are brothers. That makes you my grandson. So from now on, you just call me Gran.

Now,” she smiled sweetly, “I know our gentleman callers are required to rest during the day. We will be counting on you, O.I. and our Lafayette to keep evil at bay.”

“A pleasure, my dearest Gran,” he smiled as he picked up her hand and kissed it, his toothy smile filling his face. “My big man’s and me, we are up to any task. We are old hands at defeatin’ the evil one, it will be our pleasure to toast her ugly naked ass minions back into the most fiery of the abysses.”

“Her?” Sookie squeaked.

“Mo fo’n,” O.I. bowed deeply and placed another kiss on Adele’s hand before he picked up Sookie’s and placed a kiss there. “That fallen angel, she was one ugly assed, disrespectful, foul-mouthed bitch. Pardon me, fair ladies, while I done rolls my eyes.

Perhaps a story for another time,” he placed another kiss on Sookie’s hand and fluttered back to Lafayette. “I can see our Gran is gettin’ tired and it is bad manners to keep my hosts up past their bed times.”

“Well,” Gran smiled, “I think Scully and I could relax for a bit before he must disappear for the day.”

“Indeed Gran,” O.I. bowed.

“Scully,” she smiled at him as she stood. “Won’t you please join me for a while.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, rising slowly, a pleased yet shocked look on his face.

Taking his hand, they headed toward her bedroom. When they heard the door close, Sookie grinned. “He looked kinda scared.”

“It has probably been a while,” Eric said smothering a laugh. “But I think he probably remembers.”

“Well all right then,” Sookie nodded. “Is it impolite to sit out here and talk or should we…?”

There was a low moan that came from the back of the house followed by a woman’s hysterical laugher that tapered off into something that sounded like a big cat in heat.

“Eric,” Sookie cut her eyes to him. “I know you have been on your phone…does that mean you have work yet to do?”

“Sadly,” Eric nodded. “My child, Pamela, is out and about and keeping me in the loop. She is the one that spotted Compton. She said she will see me with the new dark, but I know her so very well. She will do something very naughty before she leaves New Orleans and then head for home, with whom or what following her is a guess.”

“You mentioned Pam,” Sookie said.

“I made her vampire,” Eric explained. “Thus, she is my child. Sometimes I regret that. Correction, most of the time I regret that.”

“Never a dull moment,” Samuel grinned. “The fair Pamela has a wardrobe that the rich and famous would envy and is a shoe whore. I have actually seen her glamour a Hollywood starlet on opening night and take the shoes right off her feet.”

“Oh,” Lafayette shook his finger. “One night at the Grammy’s, that singer came up to get her award and she was bare assed naked. Somewhere between the red carpet and the bathroom in the auditorium, she lost her dress.”

“Yes,” Eric pasted on a tight little smile. “Those big award shows are some of her best nights of the year.”

“You are kidding?” Sookie asked swallowing a chuckle.

“No,” Eric sighed. “Pamela has her own idea of who’s got talent. If someone wins an award that she does not approve of…,” Eric shook his head. “It does not end well. And if you happen to have good taste and be her size, let’s just say she considers that a bonus and refers to it as grave robbing.”

“It was a mistake to take her tomb raiding with us,” Samuel nodded.

“Indeed,” Eric sighed. “Lover,” he pulled Sookie into his lap. “You know how much I want to stay. I will be back with the new dark.”

“I will walk you out,” Sookie ran her finger down his nose.

“I will meet you at the club,” Samuel smiled. “Miss Sookie,” he bowed his head, “rest well this evening.”

They all heard the front door open and felt the breeze.

Eric stood up with Sookie in his arms. When they were on the porch he closed the door and she wrapped herself around him.

“Can you do a quickie?” she asked as she kissed his face.

“Yes,” was all he said as he unzipped his pants and lifted her skirt. Pushing past her panties he was in as she wiggled against him like minnows darting through the water.

“Mm-m,” he grunted when he felt her shudder. Arching her neck, he licked her vein until it danced in his mouth and then he bit. After the third pull, he closed the wound but left her impaled on him.

“I know,” she let her legs slide down his body. “You have to go.”

“Fucking Were shit,” he muttered. “Can I tell you this was not how I had this evening planned.”

“Make it up to me,” she grinned as her feet hit the floor and he was no longer inside of her.

“I will. Now, in you go,” he kissed her again as he opened the door and patting her on the butt pushed her inside.

“O.I.,” Eric regarded the dragon as he stepped into the warmth of the living room. “Compton is afoot. His home was across the graveyard. It does not mean that he will be back this way to take one final look, does not mean that he won’t. I leave the family in your ever watchful care.”

“Of course Mr. Eric,” the dragon smiled, this time in what could only be a nasty grin. “We is all business, all the time. That mo’ fo’r comes this way do you want me to save him for you?”

“If you would be so kind,” Eric bowed his head. “Until the new dark.” Kissing Sookie one more time then rubbing his nose against hers, he was gone.

“I am goin’ upstairs and puttin’ my headphones on and listenin’ to some music until I fall asleep or it gets quiet enough down here not to be embarrassed,” she said grinning.

“I thinks my little man’s and me, we shall just sit out on the porch swing for a bits with the bottle of tequila and we shall talk the most excellents talk.”

“Sound’s good,” Sookie nodded. Hugging Lafayette goodnight, and kissing O.I. on the snout, she was humming a Christmas carol. As she climbed the stairs, with each footfall, there was an “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” When she reached the top of the stairs, there was a deep, guttural, soul satisfying scream. Maybe two. Maybe male and female.

“Get some Gran,” she grinned as she closed her door, got ready for bed and the headphones were not needed. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Eric was walking into the back door of Fangtasia at the same time as Pamela. “Perfect timing,” she said as Samuel pushed open the door from the inside and held it open for both of them.

“Brother Samuel…!” and you could hear the surprise in her voice.

“My brother’s child,” Samuel smiled at her and bowed his head as they entered.

“Yes Child,” Eric continued on, “no matter what you said about staying in New Orleans, I knew you would not be able to stay away with all the news you relayed tonight.”

“Damn Eric,” she took a delicate sniff, “who is she and when do I get to meet her and has Samuel already met her?”

Arching both eyebrows at her, Eric closed the door and followed her to her office. “Yes to Samuel and Sookie having met. So has Crankshaft.”

“What?” she eyed both of them as she unlocked her door. “Is the apocalypse upon us? Compton is actually able to talk his way out of his fucked up shit and Old Cranky knows my maker’s favorite meal before I do?”

“You have heard the stories about London’s Angel of Green Garden?” Samuel asked.
“Yes, of course,” Pam nodded as she sat behind her desk and Eric and Samuel sat down in the chairs in front of her.

“That was Crankshaft,” Samuel said gently.

Pam’s eyes got wide.

“The woman that I am seeing is one of his blood family,” Eric added.

“What?” Pam gasped.

“During the bombings he saved five thousand souls. To most he gave a drop of blood to save their lives or to quell their fears. For whatever reason,” Samuel said, “it is done.”

Eric nodded. “Adele Stackouse’s mother was a recipient. Adele, this is the woman Scully is now seeing. And I am seeing Sookie, her grand-daughter.”

Pam leaned forward, shock on her face.

“Yes,” Eric nodded. “That Sookie. These two women are Scully’s blood family and you will show respect and honor this relationship.”

“Yes, of course,” Pam replied veneration in her voice. “How is he doing?”

Eric smiled. “He is pleased and scared and overjoyed and the last time I saw him, Miss Adele was leading him away to her bedroom and he was blushing from his neck to his hair-line.”

Grinning, Pam nodded. “Good for him. I am glad…” she hesitated. “I am happy for him. I tried to…to fill some small part of that void in his life. He just always seemed so alone. Not despairing because of it. But alone and forgotten unless HRM wanted some amusement so she used him to abuse.

I am most pleased for him.” And in her voice was good cheer.

“Good,” Eric nodded. “Most good. We are going to London for Christmas. Do you wish to attend with us?”

Pam looked at her maker, trying to gauge what was going on in that brain of his.

“Witches, Were Wolves and stockings hung by the fireplace,” she replied slowly. “And humans that shall abide in the company of Eric Northman. Sounds like trouble to me.”

“And tea at the Savoy,” Samuel added.

“Oh… damn,” she sighed. “I love the Savoy at Yuletide. I mean I fucking love it….as apposed to Fangtasia at Yuletide. Can I tell you how much I fucking hate that.”

Eric eyed his child. “Leave people in charge.”

“Merrily,” she wrinkled her nose at him. “And a ho ho ho thrown in for good measure.”

“Child before I forget, there is one more thing. Sookie has a brother, Lafayette. He has a twin, a dragon.”

“What!” she jumped up out of her chair and was now standing in front of Eric.

“Brother Samuel?” she looked at him and then back at her maker. “Is he funnin’ with me? There was that time about the trolls in Iceland.”

“No to the funning, child,” Samuel grinned. “Dragon. Fire, smoke, pointed teeth, long tail and neck. Most assuredly, a dragon.”

“That explains it,” she nodded. “Why you left the happy family and came here to get the dirt from me. With Compton on the loose, I could not believe you would leave your prize unguarded. No offense to Old Cranky. But a dragon…” she breathed out. “Can…I mean may I meet him? Please? Pretty please?”

“Seriously?” Eric asked, surprise in his voice.

“My gawd Eric,” she spewed. “It’s a dragon!”

“It might be like the trolls. I could be feeding you wolf cookies.”

“You are not. I know it,” she replied nodding her head vigorously. “Right Brother Samuel? Dragon, fire-breathing, one each.”

“That is correct,” Samuel smiled.

Eric stared at her to make his point. “If the family is still up, that is one thing, but if the house is dark…” Eric cautioned her.

“Of course. Sleeping yummy humans. Dragon who breathes fire. I know how to behave.”

Eric laughed out loud. “That would be a first. Samuel, will you be joining us?”

“Have work to do,” he grinned. “You two go ahead. I am tracing Compton and his maker through the ages. Once I identify the current members of the coven, my work will begin in earnest.”

“Most excellent,” Eric stood and hugged his brother. “Until our return.

Child, we are out the door.”

“My big man’s,” O.I. said taking a drag on the cigarillo, “we has incomin’s. High rate of speed. Vampire. One is Mr. Eric, the other has his blood. Most be his child Pam.”

“Well all right then,” Lafayette nodded, “let us meet the rest of the family.”

When Eric turned me to vampire, I thought there could never be anything more spectacular than that. There could be nothing more profound or special then my maker.

I placed him so far up on that pedestal of respect and gratefulness, that there was nothing more to this life than him.

I might have been wrong about that…

There on a porch swing of an old farmhouse sits a black male…



Granted, this dragon is not very big. And he is smoking one of those cheap assed cigarillos and yet drinking expensive tequila. It smells like Rey Sol Anejo.   I would know. I just purchased a bottle of that for a rat.  

I can see his purple eyes from here. In the dark they look like stars. You can see the slight red glow from the fire  through his nostrils.

Really? Is he wearing gold nail polish on his talons?

I think he is the most handsome thing I have ever seen…what? Is Eric speaking to me?

“Good to see you again this evenin’ Mr. Eric,” Lafayette said rising.

“This is my child, Pamela Swynford De Beaufort. Child, this is Lafayette Reynolds and the king of the dragons, O.I.”

“Pleased,” Lafayette nodded and stood.

“No, no need, please stay comfortable,” Pam took a step forward. “If we might approach?”

“Of course,” Lafayette still stood and put out his smoke.

“Most pleased,” O.I. blew a stream of fire and his cigarillo turned to ash as he took flight.

“Fair lady,” he smiled at her and raised her hand to his lips for a kiss. “What does bring you out at such an odd hour of the night in such a distant and yet distinct land?”

“I wanted to see a dragon,” she blurted out. “And I wondered if you had a dragon treasure horde and…and…I wanted to see a dragon,” she said breathlessly.

“My big man’s,” O.I. turned his head toward Lafayette who was now approaching them. “Do we has a treasure horde?”

“We has got the good and righteous advance monies Mr. Eric gave us for writtin’ a best seller. I gots a few pieces of this and that’s but nothin’s you could call a treasure horde.”

“Sadly,” O.I. once more turned his attention on Pam, “no treasure horde.”

“That’s,” she was intently studying his face. “That’s okay. I mean, really…you really are a dragon. I thought you would be bigger.”

“How big do you want me to be?” he asked.

“What?” she gasped.

“I can shift sizes. Also shapes. But I am the most comfortable in my original form and this size pleases me. I can be worn as a piece of jewelry if that is desired. I also can sit comfortably on my big man’s shoulder.”

“Please,” Eric was doing his best to keep a straight face. “Pamela just wanted to meet O.I. Why don’t you move back to the porch and we will be on our way. I know the rest of the house is sleeping and we do not wish to wake them. So before Pamela breaks into a song and dance from the roof of the house, we wish you a very good remainder of this old dark.”

“A pleasure,” Lafayette said bowing his head.

“Most assuredly a pleasure,” O.I once more brought her hand to his lips.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Please give our regards to the ladies of the house,” Eric said. “And tell them I shall see them with the new dark. Until then, adieu.”

As they settled back onto the porch swing, O.I. brought his face around even with Lafayette’s. “My big man’s, do we need us a treasure horde?”

“No,” Lafayette grinned. “It is just that stories about dragons all seem to include a vast quantity of treasure. They sleep on it. Line their nests with it and their underbellies because that is where they are the most vulnerable.”

“Really?” O.I. said looking at his stomach. “I am the same same everywhere.”

“Yous La La says yes and yes but no one knows so we just thinks what might be. But the pictures in the books, they sure ‘nuff got those right.”

“Huh,” O.I. grunted. “Must be a race memory,” he said, looking thoughtful, picking up his glass while Lafayette refilled it.

“Must be, ‘cause there are sure ‘nuff some carvin’s of you and your relatives all ‘bouts this floatin’ blue orb that we calls sweetest of homes.

We are goin’ to London for the Christmas holidays, we shall be on the lookouts!” he said with gusto.

“Will we be needin’ a treasure horde for London?” O.I. asked. “I mights be able to locate one or two. Remember old Lambert. He kept jewels. Liked to wash them down in the creek before a battle.”

“I gots you, my little man’s. My family is now complete. His La La Fineness says he needs nothin’ else.”

“So it shall be,” O.I. raised his glass in a toast. “Here is to family, you and me.”

“Family, you and me,” Lafayette echoed. “And London, at Christmas.”

Fangtasia was closed. Eric and Samuel were working code breaking in Eric’s office.

She was not doing anything. Not one thing. She had commanded her mind to shut down and so it had. For five minutes she allowed herself to be at rest.

Her internal clock told her when five minutes was up. Standing, she opened her door and vamp speed was down the hall and out into the club, screaming at the top of her lungs and pinging off everything! Even the top shelf alcohol was not safe from her dancing feet as her toes tipped merrily though the expensive stuff!

“Who knew?” Eric said to Samuel as he continued imputing code into his laptop.

“Seriously,” the small vampire chuckled as he ran his newest string of numbers.

“Thar be dragons,” Eric smiled then got serious. “What is that sound?”

“She is going vamp speed around the dancing pole. You know, hanging on with both hands, her legs straight out in the air, spinning with all her might.”

“Sounds like a tornado,” Eric replied. “Oh no…!” he was up and moving as Samuel grabbed both lap tops and ducked under the desk as things began to fly about the room.

Joyeux Noël Chapter 9


The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël

Chapter 9

Lafayette was nodding his head. “I ams seein’ that it is laundry day. Sparklin’ whites and brightest of bright colors and vampire sex, just all hangin’ there in the breeze,” he was still nodding his head. “Mm-mm-hmm. Now his La La Fineness thinks that you done shared details and the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins…” he said, his eyes wide, an all knowing look on his face, “of sexin’ up a vampire. Gran,” he looked toward the kitchen, “I ams thinkin’ she will be writtin’ a bit more than the histories of the legends we grew up with…mmmm….that woman will be writin’ her own legends.”

Sookie grinned at him. “She was married to Grandpa for twenty years. He has been gone for thirty. You think she has been able to hear Scully’s blood singin’ to her? You think that is why she never…” Sookie shrugged, “she never settled for,” Sookie paused, “she never settled for less?” she directed that question to Eric.

“Vampires do not share their blood,” Eric stated. “At least not lightly. It is something that we do with deep consideration and much thought. That Scully did this with five thousand,” Eric was shaking his head. “I am not for real sure the type of impact that is going to have on him when he goes to London. If those that he saved had one child each, and that generation had one child each, we are talking fifteen thousand humans, give or take, that he is tied, too. True, his blood is diluted, but still, it exists. I am not for sure what the ramifications are of that, but they could be extensive or nothing at all. And there are those in the Old World Order that would love to know just what those outcomes are.”

“Are we talkin’ another reason not to go to London for Christmas?” Sookie arched an eyebrow at Eric.

“’Cause I don’t care. I got my passport and I am goin’.”

“Of course we are goin’,” Gran said, coming out of the kitchen with hot chocolate refills. “Scully was just telling me about his mother’s garden. They were poor and did not have much but she could pick up anything green and stick it in the ground and it would grow.

Now,” she smiled, as Scully held the tray and she passed out the hot chocolate. “Let’s talk bout London. I want to have tea at the Savoy. I have read reviews that this is the one not to be missed. It might be a bit difficult at this late date to get in for their Christmas tea. But if Eric knows King Ian, there has got to be enough pull somewhere in this mix to get us in,” she smiled at Eric. “Is that not right?” Her look saying we are going. Make this happen.

Eric had stopped figuring the odds of staying home. Well fuck. Looked like they were all going to London despite what might pop up. Americans. Always up for a brawl. A bit like the Vikings in their outlook and fuck you attitude.

“Yes, Miss Adele, of course. We will figure out the dates and act accordingly. We want you to have the very best time in London, so the Savoy is not to be missed.”

“Most excellent,” she replied taking the tray from Scully and setting it down. “Now,” she sat down on the couch next to Lafayette and patted the spot next to her, her smile genuine and heartfelt as her gaze rested fondly on Crankshaft. “Please, Scully, have a seat and let’s talk about setting dates for our big outing.”

“I got a text back from Ian,” Samuel said. “He says to come any time. His home is decorated for the holidays and he is most happy to have guests.

Plus, the sooner we get to London, the sooner we can start shopping for clothes. He has tickets for the theatre for Friday night. He wants to know who is interested in seeing Macbeth?”

“Oh,” Sookie smiled, “witches and a mad Scottish king and his equally as crazy wife. I could go for that.”

“I do like the self-insanity driven king,” Lafayette nodded. “I understands that. Been once or twice I has stood behind the grill and wondered just what the fuck? This play is dark, stormy and tempest bound; sounds a bit much for the Christmas spirit but sometimes you just needs a good shot of crazy to appreciate you own. And at times I have howled bare-assed naked at the moon, myself, so I has gots all kinds of respects for the crazies.

Shoppin’ sounds good to the clothes fashion goddess of Miss Monroe and his La La fabulousness. Newness of places also sounds nice and I am lookin’ forward to bein’ at Harrods’s to hear the pipers of the bag close down the shop. “And,” he looked pointedly at each one, “I am wearin’ my new coat.”

Adele nodded in agreement. “I watched a PBS special about the Food Hall in Harrods’s. I want to go there, also. Now, I could pack a bag and be ready to leave, tonight. Just when are we out of town?” she asked sweetly smiling at Eric.

“Talk among yourselves,” he replied. “You let us know and we will make it happen. But we would like at least twenty-four hours to track the bad guys.

Lafayette,” Eric turned to him. “You reading anything? Anything odd at all? Since witches are involved, the Krasiki Coven, in particular, which Scully tells us are devil worshippers from centuries back, we will take all the help we can get.”

“Pooh on the devil,” Adele said with a wave of her hand. “And pooh on those that worship that fallen angel. Seriously, who thinks they can overturn God?”

“Only the most unrighteous and ignorant of all asses. Amens and hallelujahs,” Lafayette added for good measure as he shook his fist in the air. “And no Mr. Eric,” he added calmly, fluttering his eyelashes, “Nothing to the oddest of the odd.”

“Most good,” Eric nodded. “And if any of you do pick up an odd vibe, we would like to know.”

“How do you describe odd?” Sookie asked.

All eyes were now on her.

“Odd, as in not your usual norm,” Eric responded.

“Well,” she began, “I did have the oddest dream…I guess it was a dream…you know the Northern Lights?” she asked.

All of them nodded.

Especially Eric.

“I was born under those lights,” he said softly. “They appeared in the night sky five times on the day I was born.”

“Well, it was like that. There was all this vastness of the black night sky and stars and these brilliant colorful dancing lights.

And I said Boreas, Notus, Eurus, and Zephyrus you are mine. I charge you guard him well. I think I was referring to you, Eric, but I could not see who it was in my dream. I was going to look those names up today but somehow it just never happened.”

“Boreas is the ruler of the North Wind. Notus the South Wind. Eurus, is ruler of the East Wind. Zephyrus, the West Wind. These are their names in ancient Greek,” Samuel said. “And of course, in our religion, there are the four angels that hold back the four winds.”

Gran nodded in agreement. “The four winds are mentioned throughout the Bible.”

“Njord,” Eric continued on, “was the Viking name given to our god of the wind. But, our clan was highly educated and traded in the known world. My grandmother was the wise woman of our clan and she spoke Greek. Even as a child I had a working knowledge of the language. Before we would leave on a trip, we would offer a libation of mead to Njord, but Grandmother would also offer the cup to these four wind gods as well. She said it was because our forefathers were dragons and rode on these winds and from these dragons, that is how our women obtained their magic. And since the Greeks named these winds and gave reverence to them that we were to do likewise.”

“Well I like that,” Sookie nodded. “A toast for a safe trip, leaving behind those known things and going toward unknown things. I think that describes us.

Plus, your grandmother called upon dragon magic to help keep her clan safe. I think that ranks right up there with my love of Christmas magic. To honor our grandmothers, I think we need to go out and toast the four winds and the ring around the moon. And maybe Santa. After all, his night is comin’ on and we wish him a safe journey as well.”

Eric was thoughtful, “It was a bit more than that. There were four people who faced the correct represented direction and each exemplified an element. Earth, water, fire, and wind.”

“We can do that,” Sookie grinned. “Eric, since you now have saliva, you can be water. Lafayette is obviously fire, Gran you and your green thumb can be the earth and I am the wind,” she grinned.

“I’ll pour,” Samuel said heading for the sideboard. “A bit of porto into each glass and waaa-laaa,” he grinned as he passed them out.

“Outside,” Eric was grinning as well. “And face the stars. I will take the North; Sookie, the South; Lafayette the East and Miss Adele the West. Samuel and Scully, you shall be the revered and blessed Greek Chorus and repeat after each of us. On with the coats and out we go.”

“I’ll grab the kerosene lantern off the back porch,” Lafayette called out as he headed that way. “That can be our fire pit that represents the center of the universe.”

As they gathered outside, the night had turned clear, cold and sparkled with the lights of a million stars. When Lafayette set the lit lantern down, Eric placed each of them in the correct position, lined up on the stars.

“Samuel, you represent your God’s heart. A few good words to start us off.”

“Father God, O King of the Universe,” he began. “We thank you for safe journeys and happy homecomings. For the four winds that scatter the wrong doers and also brings the rain that brings life back into the dead earth.”

“Scully,” Eric said watching the age worn vampire. “Clearly, you are this self same God’s angel. A few good words.”

“And we are thankful for the four angels that hold back the four winds so that we may journey safely. Hallelujah and amen,” Crankshaft added in a soft voice.

“Most excellent,” Eric bowed his head to them. “Now let us begin.

May the North wind,” Eric bowed in that direction and raised his glass in a salute. “Keep the wind in our sails until we return home.” With a flick of his wrist, the porto went sailing off into the night.

Samuel and Scully repeated the words.

“May the South wind,” Sookie bowed in that direction and raised her glass, ”keep the wind in our sails until we return home.” Her libation was offered up as well.

And around the square it went. When Adele finished, the light in the lantern burned brighter.

A cold wind began to blow and moan among the trees, causing the limbs to rub against each other, like bones rattling in a gypsy’s wooden dish. The flame in the lamp flickered and then went out as it gave way to the lights that now flickered across the heavens.

“Everyone,” Sookie breathed out. “Is that the Northern Lights up there in the sky?”

Eric took a step toward Sookie and then stopped and looked up. “Well,” his voice was filled with wonder, “yes it is.”

“I wonder what it means?” And you could hear the happiness in her voice.

“That is some ring around the moon,” Gran chuckled. “Hands down, we have never seen anything like this. In all my years, nothing like this. Sookie, you wanted Christmas magic, well, I think we got the first installment.”

“How beautiful is that?” and tears gathered in Sookie’s eyes. “I never thought I would see anything so beautiful in person. Let alone the Northern Lights here in my own yard. I wonder if this is what the shepherds saw on the night that Jesus was born? I know they followed a star, but if I saw this, I would follow it anywhere.”

“It is a portent of something to come,” Eric said. “Something marvelous, with great significance. This is the bridge to Valhalla. My people held joy in their hearts when the lights danced in the sky and the bridge formed, to bring warriors home or to announce the arrival of a warrior on earth.

Of all the things we revered, nothing was more sacred than the bridge that formed in the night sky.”

“I, I know this…” Lafayette reached out his hand to the sky. “I should be able to touch it…to keep it in my heart and within my sight at all times.” Lafayette sat down on the ground and began to sob. “So beautiful, so mo’ fo’n beautiful. I miss something so perfect, so desperately,” he wailed, “I do not knows what it is! But my heart has been ripped from me and I sit heres only a half when I knows I shoulds be a whole.”

There was a bitterly cold wind that blew from the North. Then a hot, fiery wind that blew from the South. From the East came a fierce wind that smelled of the ocean, then a shift in the direction of the wind and from the West came the smell of the waterless desert sands and Cleveland sage.

A large dark figure appeared in the rippling green lights that danced above and blotted out from sight the colors flowing through the sky!

Samuel and Scully stepped down off the porch and joined Eric who pushed the women behind him and towards the house.

Before he could issue orders to get inside, they all heard a voice rumble through the sky…

“I understood the holy words of my band o brothers. The rightness of the words woke me from my sleep, but I was still drowsing. Then the Grandmothers of Time began to sing and in their song they chastised me. That while I slept my brothers walked and fought and lived to bring justice while I lazed about among the stars.

In my heart I knew they were right, but I thought my time was not yet. So I breathed out and my smoke and flame filled the void of my dreams and when I breathed in, there on the winds was the sweetest smell of all. It was the smell of my brother, myself, my all. On the wind I tasted that which was lost to me from the beginning of the first age. There was the one that I have fought against evil with, drank with until we understood the language of the rocks and together we stood side by side and cherished each sunrise and sunset. Alive once more is the one that fills my heart with his goodness and mercy. The better part of myself. The one that stood in front of me and took the fatal blow and sacrificed his life so that I might sleep until the beginning of the end and come to judgment with a heart that has been loved and has given love in return.”

“Where have you been?” Lafayette cried, his face lifted upwards, the tears running down his face. “You have not been here with me! You left me alone here to walk this path by myself and I don’ts know what I am abouts!” He shouted in misery. “The this and that’s of this worldliness that eats at my craw and settles itself around my gizzard and constricts me until I cannot breathe.”

The shadow of the dragon fell to the earth. It was neither graceful or fluid in its approach. The mass dropped and with a solid thud it hit the ground and the earth shook.

“I am so sorry,” and there was pain and sorrow in this creature’s voice as he slowly advanced. “For I can feel your pain, it eats at my craw and settles itself around my gizzard and constricts me until I cannot breathe,” he sobbed out in fire and smoke.

As the megalithic epic dragon approached, he was no longer a carved creature on a massive stone, lost to time. They all heard his words and had felt the earth shake beneath his weight. This was no image carved by an artist as an offering.

This was a dragon, flesh and blood and fire! He was as his Maker intended him to be. Large, savage and beautiful. And with a heart that was held clearly by the weeping human on the ground.

The dragon became smaller as he advanced. From the giant winged warrior that ended battles in a single roar of fire to the size of a house cat, he now fluttered in front of Lafayette’s face. His purple eyes, fixed on those of the most beautiful darkest of nights, the black glittering with its untold folds of love drawn back upon itself. With a claw placed lovingly on each of Lafayette’s cheeks, he laid his forehead on Lafayette’s. “You are my big mans,” he said, sniffling. “And when you passed into the light, I was forbidden to do so, for my job was not yet complete. And so I slept, waiting for your return. And now, here you are and here I is and so we shall stand together in this lifetimes until we are no more.”

“You are my Golden Talons,” Lafayette whispered. “My Órga Ingne; my O.I. My little man’s.”

“And,” O.I. rubbed his snout against Lafayette’s nose, a sad but teasing note to his voice. “My big man’s, you can say it,” he said with a grin. “My title still stands.”

“You are the mo’ fo’n king of the dragons,” Lafayette smiled as the tears continued to run down his cheeks.

“That is right. And you are my La La Fineness. A dragon rider like no other, even if you is afraid of heights. Just makes you all that much more spectacular when we takes to the sky.

Greetings,” O.I. said looking out to the crowd. “Most pleased and pleasured. I am happy my big man’s has found a family to stand by him.

Oddly, tis the same family that has stood with him before. I sees an angel of God,” he nodded his head to Scully. “And the heart of that same God,” his gaze penetrated Samuel’s soul. “And the four elements that His mighty fineness placed here to keep the earth spinning.”

Samuel walked towards O.I. his knees shaking, a trembling in his hands. “Have you,” he whispered, “have you seen God?” he asked.

O.I. smiled, large and toothy. “You remind me of Him. I knew Him in his youth. Black curly hair. Green eyes. Not particularly tall, which was most odd because his sons were particularly tall. Tallest in Heaven.

Last time I stoods face to face with Him, his hair was gray and there were lines etched there in his face. You coulds tell which ones were made from laughter and which ones were made from the sorrows.”

“Lordy,” Lafayette said standing. “I thinks that is all I gots for now, just lordy. That and I could use a drink. Miss Sooks, is there a bottle of tequila around?”

“I believe so,” her voice filled with awe as she reached for Eric’s hand.

O.I.’s gaze fastened on Eric. “A countless age of dragon’s magic lives in you. How was it you was so blessed?”

“My grand mother was the wise woman of our clan. My father pissed her off and so she gifted it to me as she lay dying.”

“I see human nature has not changed while I lay sleeping,” O.I. snorted. “Women folk,” he chuckled. “Do nots be a’grievin’ them or trackin’ up their floors. Neither one ends well.”

“That is good advice. And no,” Gran smiled at the small dragon. “Human nature has not changed.

And hospitality still rules here in my home. Now, everyone inside. I’ll pick up the lantern and we’ll all just take our ease. Have something to drink, something to eat, and get acquainted.

Lafayette, we’ll leave you and O.I. alone for a bit so that you can have some private time if that is what you want.”

“You good for now?” Lafayette asked. “I gots things to say but they can wait. I knows you in my heart. I coulds use something to eat and drink before we twos sits down to cry, laugh and rejoice.”

“All I wants is to be with you, my big man’s,” O.I. nodded. “Does not matter to the where or how. Just grateful to once more see your beautiful self.”

“We’ll cook,” Lafayette said as he and his other half headed up the stairs. “Campfire days are gone. We gots gas and instant flame on. Not as good as your flame on,” Lafayette smiled, “but it does good and we cooks and eats.”

O.I. chuckled and then became serious. “Good to be homes,” he sighed as he settled on Lafayette’s shoulder. “There is no place like home.”

“No place like home,” Lafayette echoed, rubbing his nose against O.I.’s snout. “Never again,” he whispered, his heart in his voice.

“Never again,” O.I. replied.

“Goods, we got that cleared up,” Lafayette said with a nod. Opening the door and they all trooped in.

Everyone headed for the kitchen.

Eric still had Sookie’s hand and pulled her off to the side in the living room. “This evening is obviously not what I had planned,” he said with a small smile, brining up her hand for a kiss. “I wanted to be here when the sun went down and sit face to face with you and talk about if this is what love feels like.”

“Maybe we can have some private moments once the evening wears on and everyone becomes settled within themselves,” she smiled hopefully.

There was wild cheering that erupted from the kitchen.

“Or not,” she grinned. “Dragons, Christmas magic, your women’s clan magic. The four elements…?” she said shaking her head. “Just what did O.I. mean by that?”

“I imagine in time we will find out. But I suspect,” they both looked toward the kitchen as another happy shout went up, “that may take a while. But I am feeling better about London,” he said as he pulled Sookie up for a kiss. “Much better,” he whispered in her ear as he rubbed his crotch against hers. “Were wolves can howl, witches can chant and vampires trying to pass themselves off as imps from hell can roam the earth and burn in the morning sunlight. I think a dragon’s flame tops all of that.”

“That would be my guess,” she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. “Especially a dragon that has seen the face of God.”




Dear Readers,

Sorry to take so long to get back to you. Righty knee is a bit more of a problem than Lefty knee. Lefty required minimum pain meds. Righty is the worst of the two and painkillers have been on board these first two weeks. Some today as well.

Doing better now, not sleeping as much during the day and maybe have stopped having some really weird, over the top dreams which I cannot seem to remember when I wake up.

So a short little chapter. I had to get O.I. on board before they left for London once I realized that Krasiki witches still abounded. Hmmmmm, I see them up to doing no good in the future…and it is Christmas…give me a break!

I have not heard from Pamela lately, me thinks she is off up to no good somewhere, herself. Which of course means trouble for everyone.

I thank you for your well wishes, kind thoughts, and heart felt prayers!

As always, thanks for reading!

Be blessed and be the blessing,















Joyeux Noël Chapter 8


The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël


Chapter 8


The bar at The Blood had turned into a lively place. Last call had been hysterical. Every time a barkeep sounded the bell for just one more drinkie, Eric ordered another round for the house. The Bar Manager, which reminded him a lot of Pamela, could not let the money go and so another round was poured up and served. People were coming in off the streets and everyone behind the bar was hustling and cursing Eric under their breath while they had another shot of their favorite as well.

With each round came a toast to Eric with a lot of cheering and he would stand and take a bow! It was a good night to be Eric Northman! Grinning at Samuel, his last bow was with a flourish and shouting out to the well oiled crowd, “Remember to tip your waitress!”

Sunrise was getting ready to be a horizon event. As much fun as this was, Samuel locked on with his steely green eyes and gave him a quick, fast jerk of his thumb and told him to get his ass up stairs.

With a grand bow to Samuel, he paid out and took the vampire stairwell to his floor. He was still in killer mode and needed to burn off some energy. Easily he could start by killing the terrorists, kill all the bad guys in the world, kill anyone who looked at Sookie twice!


What they had done tonight had redefined him. Maybe it was her blood. Maybe she had poisoned him…poisoned him for anyone but her! Which excited him and also caused his brain to make jumps to the next twenty steps on the chess board. He was not moving on in this live without her. He was not waiting for some never time when she would be safe and he could see her without worrying. Grandmother had said his holy lady would be there to light his path.

Eric settled into his room, showered, lay down on the bed and checked the last of his messages.

“We need to talk,” King Eric stirred and sat up. “Is Miss Sookie our Holy Lady? Because even if she is not, I want to keep her. If you don’t want her, I do. She can be mine and you can just go fuck yourself without my help.

I like being warm, again. I like it a lot. And she is so sweet and good and I fit inside of her. Seriously Eric, when was the last time a woman could take all of me? And she is a lady. You make sure you treat her like one or I will gut you in your sleep.”

“What’s up?” Eric asked, sitting up. “Something has got you going.”

“I have not yet read to her Shakespeare or Keats or any of the other poets that touch my heart. I know you two talked about Tolstoy…I swear, if I had eyes I would roll them. So I will just have to roll the one.” King Eric made a big, round circle then settled back, looking at Eric. “All that Russian angst. No sweet words. Only longing looks of anxiety and sorrow through snow encrusted eyelashes before they walk off into the middle of a polar vortex sub zero winter across the steppes of Siberia. Just trying not to starve or freeze to death; having to drink that swill of distilled weeds, left over horse oats and maybe a few scrawny onions; even the aristocratic vodka would poison you,” he spit out, “warmed by a dried horse poo fire,” he said in disgust. “Please Eric, do not blow this for us. Please,” he sobbed. “I had no idea how much I hated being cold until I was warm again. Please, I am begging you. Please.”

“I will do my best, old friend.”

“I have seen your best,” King Eric sniffled. “And it is often lacking. Leave the sweet words and romance to me.”

“Good thing the sun is coming up,” Eric growled. “Or I would whack you,” he sighed as his body leaned back and as his head touched the pillow, he could see the blazing yellow ball that lit up the sky and his soul. No, it was not the sun. It was her, his holy lady.

One last something to do before he left this existence. Dialing her number, he heard her sleepy voice.

“I miss you,” she sighed. “I wish you were here.”

“I miss you as well,” he whispered. “I will see you with the new dark. Go back to sleep and dream of me.”

“Eric?” her voice was low and hesitant. “Is this what love feels like?”

“I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “But I would like to find out. Be safe in your out and about. I will see you soonest.”

They both hung up their phones and sleep once more called to them. For the vampire, it felt like he had returned to the comfort and love of his home. For the small telepath, she knew she finally belonged.


As Eric pushed off in his longboat to the land of day dreams, he was once more wrapping his dying grandmother in his bear skin and moving her out of her hut. “Your Holy Lady will light your path,” she said as she grasped tightly his hand and pointed to the lights that danced in the winter sky. “She will color your world with flames of color. You will blaze across the heavens and your feet will dance and you shall navigate your life with your soul.

Do not be afraid my Erikr, all is yours. Darkness is coming, then all shall be light. Your Holy Lady shall feed you the light that dances across the sky and takes me to Valhalla. She will be the bridge that you cross.”



As Sookie began to drift up through the layers of sleep, her mind and her soul had unwound and was floating peacefully with her as consciousness beckoned to her. Tugging at her to come back to the place of sharp angles and broken glass.

Breaking from that pulling, she instead once more embraced this place she was experiencing that held her in its warm grasp. There were hands that soothed her hair and told her not to worry. Her life was spread out in front of her. Looking out beyond herself, she could see the blazing stars in a night sky that filled eternity. When the colors began to dance across it, she knew that each color represented a sound and that the stars sang the song that she held in her heart.

“This is your home,” the voice said. “And you must return to that body if you are to find your way here.”

Acknowledging that, she felt herself begin to get heavy. Her essence now resided in something that felt more familiar than did the stars that could sing and talk to her. Before the pull of gravity took her, she could see him. His hands pushing the hair back from her face as he kissed her and pulled her to him. His warmth and strength flowing out of him and enfolding her like a gossamer skin.

“Boreas, Notus, Eurus, and Zephyrus you are mine. I charge you guard him well,” she intoned as she wrapped her body around him and let him do with her what he would.

When she woke, she was wrapped around a pillow that she had pulled up next to her. “Erikr,” whispered in her mind as she heard the rain beat against the tin roof.

“Eriikr,” she said repeating as she stirred a bit more and then sat up, bringing the pillow with her.

“Did we really do all that?” she said to the pillow. “And if so, can we do it again? And did he call me?” Her voice went up in pitch. “And did I ask him if this was what love feels like? And…”she hesitated, “did he really say he did not know but wanted to find out? And who the hell is Boreas, Notus, Eurus, and Zephyrus?” she said shaking her head.

“Pbbllltttt!” she rolled her eyes. “I am not,” she pointed a finger at herself, “that easily distracted! Because I am not Cinderella and he is not Prince Charming! This is…this is,” she closed her eyes and felt the memories of what he had done to her… “This is so much more that I ever thought I would have…and when he walks away, it is going to hurt like hell because it hurts now just thinking of it. Damn!” she hit the bed with her fist. “Sookie,” she chided herself remembering the words of her gran. “Do not over think this. Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy! Now, I smell coffee. Someone is up. Let’s get started and see what happens.”

When she got downstairs, Lafayette and Adele were pouring up the coffee and making cinnamon toast.

“Yummy,” she said when she came in. “Gran, you have not made cinnamon toast since…well since I was fifteen and sick with the flu.”

“I know,” she nodded, “it is way past time. I’m going to heat up some ham from yesterday and we are going to have breakfast.”

“Is Mr. Tall, Blond and Yummy nappin’ under your beds?” Lafayette asked.

“No,” she shook her head as she picked up up her mug off the counter. “He left at around two maybe.”

“Hm-m-m,” Lafayette nodded, smirking. Hoping for dirt but it was a bit hard to hoe that row if there was none.

“What are you watchin’ on your phone?” she asked leaning over. “Must be good. You have said nothing about making red-eye gravy.”

“There was a big assed explosion on the Le Grand Sud Belle. Its home port is New Orleans. This is all over the news here on my phone. You name it, and it is being posted. For starters,” Lafayette arched an eyebrow, “Big Guns getting off on big guns. Big, very bad party last night on the third deck of now on the bottom of the river. Invite only. Sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll, according to one who was flaming with good looks and photo bloggin’. Someone posted two men who were having a very good time. One down on his knees with his head in his partner’s lap. Then, cause it looked like so much fun, others came around and wanted to join in. Only these two were dead.

There was yellin’ and screamin’ and of course postin’ the mayhem of the moment on the righteous YouTube. They docked, the police showed up, a fire broke out, there was mass evacuation; then it got interestin’. Apparently there were similar things that went ka-boom on board that ship as what was next door. It being believed that these terrorists have their things stashed hither, thither and way down yonder on that boat.

According to sources in New Orleans, it is firmly believed that the boat was registered to one William T. Compton, vampire.”

“Well,” Gran nodded. “Apparently the war did not end for him at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9, 1865.”

They all three looked at each other and then raised their coffee cup in a salute. “To the United States of America,” Gran said and the other two echoed it.

“Lafayette,” Sookie poured more coffee, “Eric did say to remind you that we have to call Sam and quit. You up for that?”

“Miss Sooks,” he grinned. “La La says someone else can cook La La burgers tonight, tomorrow night and all the blessed nights to follow. Might not be as good, but the job can be theirs.”

“Just fine then. If nothin’ else, we will call and leave Sam voice mail. I’m hungry. Let’s eat first,” she said, sticking her head in the fridge. “There is just the one tray left of those fancy little desserts. How wrong is it to have them first thing?” Sookie’s voice held happiness.

“Not so wrong, his La La Fineness says. Now, how goes the kissin’ with the big blond? Don’t be bashful, is he as good as he looks?”



There was one very nice thing about HRM’s residence that the agencies had not bothered to deconstruct. She had a nice space to keep unruly vampires. It was muchly appreciated. They were keeping a couple of unruly ones there now.

“Apparently,” Special Agent Leads was still being briefed on the newest ammo cook-off. “Mr. Compton did not understand that the war ended for him at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9, 1865.

Get him up. I don’t care if he bleeds out. I want some answers.”


Bill was sitting in his cell with walls lined with silver. He kept swiping at the blood that was dripping out of his ears. They had blasted him with ultra violet rays until he woke up screaming and then sat up.

He had been up for ten minutes and no one had yet to ask him a question. He could hear the agents on the other side of the silver bars discussing death and taxes. They had no idea who they were fucking with! He was Death! And he had never paid his taxes! Well, he did to HRM, of course…and only on the property she knew that he owned! He would survive this, he always did!

There was much discussion of back-blow from a bomb and water displacement. Fire burn rates and accelerants.

He bled for an hour and forty-five minutes. Then, they turned out the lights and left. That was just odd. More than odd. It reminded him of some of the fun he used to have when he would taunt old Horsey, the house slave. He was his master until his momma or daddy showed up and blistered his behind for hurting a valuable piece of property. “I wish I could have been a child forever. Living in my daddy’s house. Having Little China bathe me when I was fevered and needin’ release. It was all so much simpler, then. So much kinder. So much gentler.”

Lying back down on his cot, he cursed Lee and his surrender at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9, 1865.


It was another rainy day at the Stackhouse farmhouse! Breakfast was still on going.

Sookie left her message first and then passed the phone to Lafayette.

They cooked, they ate, they heated and Lafayette did his best to coax out of Sookie was Mr. Northman really all that or was he just pretty to look?

“Cause he is sure ‘nuff pretty to look at,” Lafayette said nodding his head. “And I know pretty. M-m-m-m hm-m-m-m,” he said making a yummy sound.

“Lafayette,” she said at one point, sounding shocked. “I am not one to kiss and tell.”

“Hm-m-m-m,” he grinned. “So there was kissin’. I knew it. Now was that all that there was? Hm-m-m-m? You tells your La La. Just whisper in my ear so Gran does not start clutchin’ at her heart.”

By this time, all three were laughing.

“Best evenin’ of my life,” she grinned. “There. That is all I am sayin’. Let your imagination run wild. Now, you were not woke up with screamin’ and pantin’ and Tarzan yellin’ and swingin’ through the house, so don’t be lettin’ your imagination get too carried away.”

“Well drat, this is his La La Fineness poutin’,” he said dropping his lower lip. “Cause I could sure nuff’s see you hangin’ on his back and well, you know, him swingin’ through the trees with his shirt off.”

“Yes, thank you,” she laughed. “I now have that visual as well. So stop it.

Is it lunch time yet? Gran said no desserts until we ate our lunch. I could use some chocolate. Which means I could use some lunch.”


Eric woke early. It was raining, he could smell it. The air was damp and moisture laden. His internal clock told him it was three in the afternoon. Which was odd. Early even for him. Checking his watch, yes, it was indeed three in the afternoon.

Sitting up, he checked his mouth. Yes, still moist. Just like the air.

Picking up his phone, he started going through his messages. There was one from The Director.

Le Grand Sud Belle is registered to Compton. Two dead bodies found. Fire started before it came to port. Made its way to the hold where more ammo exploded. Follow the links to YouTube.

Please, interview Compton first thing. Tell him he is getting ready to face the true death. Get what you can out of him because he is getting ready to face the true death.


Eric watched the videos. “So they found the bodies. And then,” he clucked his tongue, “someone set fire to the boat to hide just exactly what was going on up there. Whoever thought they were doing Bill a good deed had no idea there were big things that go boom in the hold of the ship. Oh, this should be all kinds of fun,” he chuckled.

Then he called Samuel.

“Hello my brother, you are up early,” Samuel smiled at him and yet was also looking him over carefully. “You are looking your handsome self and bleed free.”

“Well yes,” Eric grinned. “Thank you for noticing. And a blessing to you and yours on this holy day.”

“And the same to you as well,” Samuel smiled.

“Samuel, I need to know who owns the ship Le Grand Sud Belle. She docks in New Orleans, at the piers just past Canal Street.”

“One moment,” Samuel replied as he sat down at his laptop.

“The authorities on this end,” Eric was watching his brother, “say the ship is registered to Compton.

“Interesting,” Samuel mused as he pushed his data around. “Says here it comes with a curse. That the owner always dies at the hands of another.

While it was being built in the boatyard, a welding spark killed fifteen workmen. After that, three dropped from the top deck and broke their necks. Two drowned. They fell while painting her name on the bow. Two more drown when they took her out for her sea trial.”

“Interesting,” Eric nodded. “Nothing worse than a cursed ship. Best just to take it out, burn it in the water, and leave it to the gods of the deep.”

“Good answer,” Samuel nodded his head. “But apparently, this was not to be.

It was built in 1960 as a gift for the actress Vivian Harwell. She won an Oscar that year and did not get to accept it. Instead of being in Hollywood on the night of the Oscars, she was murdered on board the ship here in New Orleans. It was brutal and ritualistic. Her murder is still a cold case.

Let me see, its history goes on to say that ship has had ten different names.

“Just out of curiosity, what were the other names?” Eric asked.

“First name it was registered under was Hollywood ‘N Third. Then Third Wife’s Pleasure, Daddy’s Third Home, Third Shark Attack, Third Bitch on the Beach, Third Pirate on the Left, Third Times a Charm, Third Deck, Third Fixed Income and then Le Grand Sud Belle.”

“People are not very creative,” Eric shook his head. “Sounds like the same owner through its history, with third always being in the name.”

“Not what the titles say,” Samuel chuckled. “Always a new owner. And now it belongs to one William T. Compton with the registry coming out of the Bahamas.”

“Cheap assed bastard,” Eric frowned. “He will do anything not to pay taxes. Interesting though, to register in the Bahamas, they do not like to take boats older that twelve years.”

“Somewhere there is a forged document with the age on it,” Samuel replied. “Or Compton was able to prove that the boat was up to snuff by their standards.

Either way, moot point now. What is left of it is at the bottom of the river until the Feds float it.”

“Thank you my brother,” Eric bowed his head. “Your information is always the best. I have been asked to speak to Compton before I depart for Sookie’s this new dark. I plan on being brief and to the point. As in, you are fucked. Tell the Feds what you know and then greet the sun.”

Samuel chuckled. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“I think somewhere is a mole and word will come, probably out of France to release him, that he is their double agent. The Feds will probably agree so that he might be tracked.” Eric rolled his eyes. “Which is fine, then I will just end him.”

Samuel laughed out loud. “I know it is cloudy in Louisiana, but there is a ring around the moon, tonight. Please, before you go, stop by and see me. You are my gift for this night of Hanukah. ”

“I will be by to see you,” Eric grinned. “Magic lurks when the moon speaks and it is my brother’s holy day. I am hoping my Grandmother would put in her appearance as well. I do have some questions for her.”

Samuel smiled. “And if she does show, please give her my regards. I shall see you soonest!”

“I shall,” Eric laughed.

“It is nice to speak to Samuel at three in the afternoon,” he grinned tossing his phone up into the air. Then he realized what the extra time meant. More bullshit to deal with.

It was five. He had accomplished a lot in the last two hours. Time to get Billy Boy up, rattle his world and then haul ass to Bon Temps.

His Holy Lady awaited!

Eric’s smile got bigger as he dialed another number.

“Hi,” and he could hear the contentment in Sookie’s voice, along with the pleasure of hearing from him…along with the pleasure of wanting him.

The grin covered his face. “Hello my lady,” his voice was low and husky. “I miss you. You need a new phone. I want to be able to see you when I talk to you.”

Sookie chuckled. “Are we talkin’ about seein’ me or phone sex seein’ me?”

“Damn,” Eric laughed. “I did not realize I had options. Well, both. I will say hello and then take great delight in watching you get off. Moaning and panting my name, of course as you say hello.”

“Of course,” she laughed. “I was expecting your knock at the door,” and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Since this is a phone call, I am betting you are getting ready to go to work. The news is full of the ship blowing up. Ammo, illegal munitions…just like at Compton’s.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “Yes. But this should not take me long. Have your dinner and think about me until I get there. I don’t mind if you rub around on your clit to warm my dinner up.”

“You are just a bad boy,” she laughed.

“The baddest,” he chuckled. “This should not take long. Keep my dinner warm for me.”

“Bad boy,” she laughed. “See you soonest,” and then she hung up.

“Fuck….fuck…fuck…” Eric groused. “Why did I not order them smart phones? Fucking Weres! Fucking Compton! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Not one word,” Eric addressed his crotch and whacked King Eric just for good measure.

“What the fuck Northman!” was bellowed back. “I have said not one word to you about your fucked up shit! And it is mightly fucked! I am sure it will take me to unfuck it. It is a good thing she is a holy lady and does not expect much from you. Her kindness and goodness overlooks your big and oafish ways.”

“That whack was for on-going principles,” he growled. “Do not start on me. Let us get this done and then our Lady awaits.

Well fuck,” he was lost in a memory. “Just what was it Compton and his maker had done to that body that I found? Fuuuuuck!” he hissed. “I need to speak to Samuel.”


“Lorena Krasiki,” Eric said as he and Samuel sat hunched over the lap top in Samuel’s office. “Compton’s maker. The Hollywood starlet, her murder was ritualistic.”

“I have the photos,” Samuel said as they flashed up on the screen.

“Yes, exact same fucking thing that she and Compton did to that body in London.”

“What do we know about Krasiki?” Samuel asked.

Eric shrugged. “She’s a monster, in every sense of the word. But more than that…?” Eric shrugged, again.

“Wait one,” Samuel said, opening the door and stepping out into the hall he said, “Crankshaft, if we might have a moment please?”

“What is need sirs?” he asked as he appeared at the door.

“Please, come in,” Samuel said “and sit. We are in need of some information. Have you ever heard the name Krasiki mentioned at the residence?”

“Just by Compton once or twice. But when I was first turned, my maker wanted to be a warlock and hauled us to Hungary. Budapest, to be exact. He went to study with the Krasiki Coven. Devil worshipers,” he whispered as he crossed himself.

“I feel a headache coming on,” Eric said rubbing the bridge of his nose.“Witches,” he hissed.

“Samuel, follow me on this, Crankshaft just nod if any of this sounds right to you. Bill’s maker, Lorena Krasiki has been a practicing witch before she was turned. The two of them travel, performing their rituals on their victims before they leave them to gurgle out their last.

They know Vivian Harwell. Lorena has the boat built for her, or so she says. Invites the actress to come to New Orleans on the night of the Oscars. Rumor has it she is going to win, and yet, there is a mighty big pull for her not to be in town but in N.O. instead.

The aspiring actress shows up, who knows, hoping maybe they are going to turn her. Instead she initiates the boat with her blood and screams.

So, Krasiki has owned it the entire time. Hence the threes in the names. No way is she willing to part with it after all the trouble she has gone to sanctify it to her dark lord. So, she has Compton register it in his name and turns it into a money making venture.

Now, Crankshaft, for the coven did they have a symbol?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “yes they did. It was the nasty Nazi swastika. There was three of them vile things that had a pentagram for the center with those branching out from it. Looked like an obscene flower it did. They all had it tattooed on them and they would paint it on the walls with blood before they would start their chantin’.”

Eric ground his teeth. “That is what those two fuck heads had drawn on the bodies of their victims,” he hissed. “Samuel, if you would please, print me off those boat registries.

This certainly does not please me. There has been a coven of witches trying to make my life just a bit more colorful. Well fuck…” he sighed.

“What is it my brother?” Samuel asked.

“I really want to go to London for Christmas…”

“London,” they both heard the joy in Crankshaft’s voice. “Pardon me, sirs,” he said bowing. “It is just that it has been a while and a bit since I’ve been home. Miss the smell of the place. The cobblestone streets. Why I live here. Smells a bit of the same with the ocean and all.

And I have not been back since the bombin’.”

“Crankshaft, do you remember anything else about the coven?” Eric asked.

“They smelled, they did. Somethin’ awful. It clung to them and wafted from up under their skirts.”

“Halászlé, or Fisherman’s Stew,” Eric said. “Made from all the different fish in the Danube. Lots of hot red paprika and maybe some onions and garlic if any was at hand. It was generally made in a large cauldron. Those that ate it stank and were not a tasty treat for vampires or Weres alike. Could be why they ate it. To keep those things that go bump in the night away.

You remember their faces?” he asked.

“Yes,” he nodded. “But they were mostly all blackened up.”

“Probably to hide the symbols from view,” Samuel added, intrigued. “We saw that a lot with the Egyptians. There were sects who worshiped the dead. In reverence, they painted on Anubis. And so the dead would not seek them out they then painted over Anubis. One of the first secret societies. Or so they claimed. If I might quote Pamela, posers,” he hissed.

“The more I do the farther I have to go,” Eric sighed. “I am limited on time before we depart. These fucking witches change everything. I think I need you two to go with me to convince the three that…that…perhaps it is not as safe as in London as I thought it was.

Let me go bring Compton the true death and then I’ll be back. Be prepared to fly.”


When Eric came in he was greeted with, “We have been contacted,” Special Agent Leader said. “Someone high up in France says Compton was a double agent.”

“Bullshit,” Eric snorted and handed over his file. “Contact the Homicide Cold Case Unit. We are about to solve a cold case.”

“No fucking kidding,” Leader smiled. “So we have that bastard because murderer trumps double agent.”


Eric was escorted to the holding area where Compton was being kept.

“Come to let me out?” Bill laughed as the door was opened and Eric walked in.

“Not exactly,” Eric grinned, grabbed Bill and shoved him up against the silver bars and strapped him there.

His screaming was delightful to hear. Then the blubbering and screaming started in earnest when Eric pulled out the straight razor.

“Now Bill if you cooperate, this will go much easier on you, and I would hate to cut your head off with all the jerking around you are doing,” as Eric pulled Compton’s head off the bars and held it in a dead lock. “If the tattoo is not here,” Eric said into his ear. “Then I am going to shave another part of your body. And the razor will slip and cut your dick off.”

The razor in an expert’s hand made short work of Compton’s hair.

“Detectives,” Eric smiled. “There it is. The tattoo of Bill’s maker. I found more than one body with this on it after one of their killing sprees back in the early 1900’s. The young starlet, Vivian Harwell was bloodied with the same mark in 1960. There are the photos in the file. If you are weak of stomach, be careful. They are vile.

If you follow the paper work, you will see the boat Le Grand Sud Belle, never left Krasiki’s ownership, she just signed it over to Bill. There is enough there if you connect the dots to hold Compton on the suspicion of murder of Miss Harwell. And I believe I heard murder trumps a double agent,” Eric grinned.

“I fucking hate you,” Bill snarled as Eric stepped out of the cell and then it locked behind him.

“I know,” Eric smiled.

“Gentlemen of the law, I leave you to prove his guilt.”

“I will eat your brains out,” Compton stepped up to the bars and jeered.

Eric reached through and once more pulled Bill’s body onto the silver. His screaming only exceeded the smell of the burning of his flesh.

“Not if I rip your heart out first,” he grinned. With a shove, Bill went flying across the cell and smashed into another silver wall and the wailing reached a new fevered pitch.

“Gentlemen,” Eric said bowing, “a good evening to you one and all. If you need sworn affidavits, just let me know.”


“Fuck,” Eric muttered as he exited the residence of a now defunct vampire queen. “Tonight is not at all going as I planned.”

When Eric entered the bar at The Blood on the Quarter his two riders were grinning and waiting on him. “Not going as I planned at all,” he sighed.


When they landed at the farmhouse, they all three straightened their hair and righted their clothes.

“Sheriff,” Cranky nodded to him, “I’ll just be out here straightenin’ out the garden until you need me. These good folks have no need to entertain the likes of me.”

Eric started to say something to the back that was now bent over and going through the winter garden. Samuel touched Eric’s hand and shook his head no.

The two of them went up the steps and Eric knocked. Gran opened the door with Sookie peeking around her. Her smile had made that worthless piece of Were shit Compton forgotten.

“Miss Adele,” Eric began. “This is my brother, Samuel Da’vid.”

“Eric, good evening.

Won’t you please come in Samuel,” Adele stood aside and let them both pass through.

“And that,” Eric said with a nod of his head out into the yard, “is Scully Crankshaft deadheading your garden.”

“What?” she said stepping out onto the porch.

“He said he would just be useful outside until he was needed.”

“What?” Gran said in a bit louder voice looking at Eric and then back out into her yard.

“Mr. Crankshaft,” she called out. “Now you get yourself into my home right now. We Southerners pride ourselves on our hospitality and you are making me feel mean spirited and uninviting and just cold hearted. That will not do. Besides, I am standing here with the door open letting all the heat out. So you just bring yourself on up here. I am the lady of this house and as my guest, I expect you to act as such and abide by my wishes as long as they do not interfere with your sense of religious believes or decorum.”

“Yes ma’am,” an older man with white hair and light blue eyes said as he began climbing her steps. “It is just that I don’t keep polite company much and I am afraid my Sunday manners are not the best.”

“Nonsense,” Adele poo-poohed that. “You just come right on in.”

“Wipe you feet, though,” Sookie added leaning around Gran.

“Sookie,” Gran’s voice was shocked. “He is company,” she chided her grand daughter. “Mr. Crankshaft, you just come in and make yourself at home.

Please, allow me to introduce you to my grand daughter, Sookie and my grandson Lafayette.”

“Pleasure,” Lafayette stepped forward and shook Scully’s hand and then Samuel’s.

“Always happy to meet Eric’s family,” Sookie smiled as she shook hands with Samuel and then Crankshaft.

“Oh Miss Sookie,” Crankshaft took a step back. “The Sheriff there, I am not his family. Just privileged to be along and help him where I can.”

“Well,” Sookie grinned at him, “you look very handsome in your tux.”

“Thank you,” he blushed. “When the Sheriff said I was to accompany him tonight I gots myself into a bit of a panic. I had nothin’ nice to be wearin’ to be meetin’ ladies in. So Mr. Samuel said it was just fine if I helped myself to the clothes closet that the staff uses. I thought this was mighty fine for one as old as myself.”

“And indeed it is,” Gran smiled at him. “Thanks for dressing up and looking so handsome to come and see us. I don’t think we have ever had a man in the house before who had on a tux. Well, this is a momentous occasion. Please, everyone get comfortable.”

Eric brought Sookie’s hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Now that we are all here, can I get anyone somethin’ from the kitchen?” Sookie asked. “We bought some True Bloods, today. I think one of every blood type they make. Anyone interested?” she asked.

“Thank you but we ate before we left,” Samuel said with a slight bow of his head.

“Well then,” Sookie smiled at him. “I could use a cup of hot chocolate. Gran, Lafayette, you want any thing?”

“Hot chocolate sounds delightful, dear,” Gran said sitting down. “We’ll just get acquainted until you return. I am sure Eric would help you carry out the tray.”

“Would you mind?” she asked him.

“Of course not,” as they both started toward the kitchen.

“There will be some milk heatin’ and some smoochin’ while the milk is heatin’, his La La Fineness says,” as Lafayette wiggled his eyebrows and snapped his fingers.


The milk was on the stove doing a slow simmer. Sookie was wrapped around Eric doing a slow simmer, as well. Eric was passionately licking her neck, his tongue doing amazing things to her insides…which was just short of a miracle since he was licking on her neck and was not a.n.y.w.h.e.r.e close to licking on things that really made her certifiable bat shit crazy!

When he bit, she thrust her hips forward and felt her own release.

“Time to add the chocolate,” she murmured in a sigh as she felt her legs go from jello to rubbery to a state where it was safe to stand on them.

Standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her, she added the chocolate syrup to the heated milk, stirred and then poured it into three cups.

Placing them on Gran’s little brass tray with the pineapple motifs running around the edge, Eric carried it proudly into the living room.

Sookie served Gran, Lafayette, and then keeping the last one for herself, she and Eric sat down next to each other on the green velvet love seat.

Eric put his arm around her shoulders. This was noted by all and the conversation began.

Eric talked about Compton’s maker and the Krasiki Coven.

Crankshaft went into more detail about the Coven and how vile they were.

Eric then discussed the witches that had been attempting to give them hell in Shreveport to help kick off this road march of death and destruction and perhaps they should stay home.

He continued on with there Weres and their histories of serial killings, especially during the holidays.

“This,” Eric looked out at the group as his arm tightened around Sookie. “This could be more dangerous than what I had originally thought.”

“What?” Sookie sat up and looked at him. “What are you sayin’? Are you sayin’ no to Christmas in London?”

“What?” Gran sat up also. “Witches don’t scare me and mine. We are covered in the blood of Jesus.”

Samuel smiled. “Spoken like true believers, Eric,” he chuckled. “Sometime, Miss Adele, I will have to tell you of our adventures in Egypt. You would be amazed at what a little kosher salt and believing in Father God will do.”

“Yes indeed,” Lafayette nodded. “Christmas in London. We will have darlin’ little pistols that will shoot silver bullets and at least slow down this and that until The Angel of Green Park appears.”

“You know about him?” Crankshaft smiled. “I used to pray to him back during the war. To help me find those who was buried in those bombed buildings and get them to safety.”

“Sure enough, his La La says. Our Gran,” he blew Adele a kiss, “her momma was pulled from the burning rubble by the angel himself. If not for him, we woulds not be sittin’ here today.”

“September 7, 1940,” Adele nodded. “My family was from Cornwall. My mother and grandmother had come into London that day to do some shopping. Sun was shinning. Lovely day. Then it was not. The Angel pulled them from the rubble that evening.”

Eric and Samuel both had a moment!

“Crankshaft,” Eric began slowly. “You were in London during the war…”

“Yes Sheriff, I was. Old Cranky was not big enough or grand enough to be fightin’ them filthy Nazis with the magnificent likes of The Viking.

But I did my helpin’ in other ways. My hearin’ is real good. And when those filths started bombin’ at night…well…” he nodded. “Sometimes I could hear the planes comin’ in overhead and I could guess where they was headed and I got there first, I did. Moved them babies and their mommas to safety, I did. I knows what it is like to be hurt and alone and scared in the dark. I was not gonna’ let that happen if I could help it.”

“You’re the one,” Samuel and Eric both said at the same time with shock in their voices. “The Angel of Green Park…”

“No-o-o-o,” Crankshaft shook his head and smiled at them. “No sirs, not me. He was a holy being that moved small ones out of danger. Healed their hurts and got them to safety. I heard all the stories about him and I just prayed to him to watch over us all. To make me extra quick and my hearin’ extra sharp.”

“You went to ground in Green Park,” Eric said gently.

“Yes,” Crankshaft nodded.

“They dropped a few bombs in Green Park,” Eric nodded.

“Yes,” Crankshaft.

“When you found the ones that were hurt, you gave them a taste of your blood…”

“Well, well yes,” Crankshaft said, sitting up straighter. “I knew it was wrong, but I did not care. I still do not. These were my people. Londoners. My home. I was not going to let the little ones die. No,” he said shaking his head. “Not die alone and being scared. No.”

“It is said,” Samuel began slowly, “that while the bombs fell on Britain, that the angel saved around five thousand souls. That would be you, Scully. You saved those people.”

“I am not one for countin’,” he replied. “And the job was not done until that hell from the sky stopped rainin’ down on my city!” he said with venom.

“Just wait until Ian finds out,” Samuel said with a grin. “He thought that is was a vampire walking into those burning infernos, he just did not know which one. And after the war, no one came forward.”

“Am, am I in trouble?” Crankshaft asked.

“No,” Eric laughed. “the King of British Isle would very much like to meet you and thank you personally and bestow upon you some official title and some type of monetary compensation.

That being said, Scully Crankshaft, I would like to introduce you to your blood family. By giving of yourself, you made this family possible and they carry inside of them your goodness and self sacrifice; they are of your blood: Adele Stackhouse and her granddaughter Sookie. And of course, this family is not complete without his La La Fineness.”


Any thoughts of not going to London?

Eric realized that train of thought was never going to come back around. Adele was sobbing and had both of Crankshaft’s hands, lifting them to her lips and kissing them. Telling him how thankful she was and grateful for his kindness and mercy.

Scully was so embarrassed that he blushed the entire time and looked like he wanted to hide behind the back of the couch.

Which, Eric realized as he watched Adele dab at her eyes and then begin to bombard Scully with countless questions, maybe Crankshaft was what made all this make sense.

Adele was a first rate gardener. Was that Crankshaft’s blood?

And Sookie’s telepathy. Crankshaft’s hearing was exceptional. There was no doubt that he could hear the bombers coming in over the Channel. Was that why Sookie could hear people’s thoughts?” Something the vampire blood had passed to her?

Oh wait one, what was that?

“You are responsible for my family being here,” Adele stated, with a firm tone in her voice. “Now, I don’t know much about the feeding habits of vampires but I want you to know that I am always available. So, don’t you go hungry sitting here in my house,” she shook her finger at him. “So, explain this to me.”

“Gran,” Sookie leaned forward.

“Here it comes,” Eric did not grin as much as he wanted, too.

“They like blood at body temperature. From your wrist is fine. The neck is a bit more intimate. However, how they really like their blood is it to be super charged after sex. And that only happens if the sex is, well, super charged.

Then they like that vein down there on the inside of you thigh by your sex or your neck…or well…wherever.”

The room did not breathe…eyes went from Sookie to Eric back to Sookie.

“Last night, my bedroom, it was perfect,” was all she said.

Gran looked at Scully and smiled. “I have been waiting for you,” was all she said.

Looking out at the group she she announced that she was making more hot chocolate and stood up. “Refills for everyone. Sookie, no need to get up. I believe Scully can help me carry the tray.”






Dear Readers,

Well-l-l-l-l-l-l-l…not even I saw that coming.

(Old Cranky says thanks to all of you for finding him so adorable! He had no idea that if you were in more of the plot it just got him…well…more…

Dear Readers and believer in Old Cranky. We shall just all leave him with the official BATTLE CRY of 2017: GET SOME!”)

My hope for all of you is that your New Year is off and running…mine is…well…off but no to the running, at least not yet.

Monday, as in tomorrow, the right knee gets replaced. Woohoo!

Any kind thoughts, prayers, lit candles, tequila toasts pushed my way would be deeply and humbly appreciated.

So…I have leftie as a very fine example of what I am to expect with rightie as far as total knee replacement goes. (Yes that was 1 November. Still rehabbing but am kicking ass and taking names. And yes, I have been warned each knee is different. (Same surgeon. Not kidding, this doc is magic.) And not to count on the same type of recovery. Okay…got it. Expect the best, prepare for the worst. Just like all things in my life.) Personally, I am thinking I can do some writing while I am in the hospital. More of that woohoo thing!

If you are kind enough to leave a review, I will not be able to answer it until perhaps late Tuesday night when I have returned home and settled in. (WiFi at the hospital sucks! Just sayin’!)

Hopefully, I will be back to posting on Mondays! They might be short, sweet, and in coherent, but hell, you guys are just the best at not complaining about my misspelled words. And I appreciate that. Truthfully!

As always, thanks for reading!

Be blessed and be the blessing,


Ps….leaving for Belvoir soonest…I thought I had a couple of more hours for editing…I guess not!

Get Some!








Joyeux Noël Chapter 7


The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël


Chapter 7


Sookie and Eric stood there, looking at each other.

“Well then, I am gonna’ ask,” Sookie slowly ran her hand down the front of his shirt. “Are we gonna’ do this tonight?”

“Not with Lafayette next door,” Eric grinned. “If I want to yell and beat my chest while you whimper and beg me for more,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “I want to be able to do that. And for you to feel comfortable enough to scream my name non-stop until you reach completion.

And, I seem to have this saliva thing going on in my mouth. Before we get any further, I need to talk to someone about this.”

“You have someone for that?” she asked, sounding perplexed.

“I have someone for everything?” he grinned.

“So that means you are leavin’,” she was watching him, running her hand up and down his arm.

“Yes. If I stayed, it would be most satisfying for both of us and we would wake Lafayette and your Gran. I will be back with the new dark. What I need you to do is to call Merlotte and tell him you have quit. Please remind Lafayette to do the same.”

“You worried about the saliva thing?” she asked.

“No,” he said shaking his head. “Not really.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “ I would hate to think that you could not feed from me.”

Eric lifted her face. “You really mean that?”

“Yes,” her mood was serious. “You are a guest in our home. I should be able to afford you all those pleasantries.

And I want to have sex with you. We should be able to afford each other all those pleasantries. And you need to know what type of effect I am going to have on you. I see you standing there being Mr. Cool and Calm, but on some level, this has got to register as odd. I know it does for me. I would hate to think I have poisoned you.”

“No poison,” he smiled at her and pulling her closer, he put his hands on her ass and pulled her up and onto him. “See, no poison,” he ground on her a bit, “at all.

Wrap you legs around me,” he said as he nibbled on her ear. “Now, rub around,” he sighed when he felt her began to thrust and wiggle.

“That feels good,” she moaned as she kissed his neck, her tongue tracing his Adam’s apple and up under his chin.

“Sookie,” he pulled back from her. “I could do you right now,” his voice was filled with passion. “But I don’t want your first time to be like this.”

“Be like what?” she groaned, pushing hard onto him.

“Standing in your living room. Don’t you want luxurious bed coverings, a bathroom fit for a queen, room service from a five star kitchen?

The views of sweeping panoramas from windows where ever in the world you want to be.”

“All I want is you,” she replied.

“I can give you so much more,” he whispered in her ear.

“You gave me the perfect day,” she raised his face to hers. “The perfect day. I got to spend it with people that I love. Share with them and enjoy their company. And for today, there were no worries or wars or sorrows. There was just us and our love.

Eric, this is my place of sanctuary. This is where I feel safe. The world may rage and storm, but this is my home.

And you don’t have to drown and I don’t have to spend the night waiting to see what it feels like to have you inside of me. And I am sure that would be pleasurable, but what I am feelin’ right now is,” she rubbed against him, “this is causin’ everythin’ inside of me to tighten up. Like a rubber band that has been wound too tight. One more twist and the band is going to break and go flyin’ everywhere.

My bed, please. We’ll close the door and try not to scream. But if I do and I wake the house, they will just have to understand.”

Nodding, Eric once more captured her mouth with his and set her on the floor. Undoing his pants, he then undid hers and slid them off. His mouth left hers and he kissed his way back up her leg and when he came to her panties, he ran his finger between her nether lips and then placed a kiss there, his tongue pushing the material inside of her. Pulling her once more up onto him, this time she gasped as she felt his hardness push into her. His tongue once more engaged with hers as the kisses deepened and so did King Eric, who was now actively engaged with rubbing against her clitoris.

Walking them up the stairs, as his leg came up for each step, he ground into her and she pushed her pelvis forward.

“I’m ready,” her voice was trembling as they made the top of the stairs.

“Not even close,” his voice was deep and husky. “I have not even started on your breasts. Wait until I suckle your nipples and then your clit. Then, perhaps, you will be ready.”


Sookie had no idea how long his tongue had been thrusting inside of her. Her job was to simply ride the current and let the wave take her where it might. She understood now about having sex on the boat. The wave started at her toes and pushed up through her body. Each time advancing farther then where it had been. This wave was working its way to her breasts, where his fingers were now tweaking her nipples. Moaning his name, the energy crested in her nipples and a powerful force exploded in her nipples and then it felt like her pelvis was being pushed downward, through the mattress, through the earth itself, to its core, where molten lava heaved and split the earth in half to escape. Eric’s mouth was on her opening when she squirted, long, hard, powerful streams of…of…something that was buried so deep inside of her hips thrust up, pushing her off the mattress and deeper into his mouth.

The trembling started at her toes and passed through her like a lightning bolt, sizzling her nipples, causing the bones in her upper back and neck to pop. Her body melted and then Eric was on top of her. His mouth on her neck, kissing her, licking her. With effort, she shifted her hips and felt his weight. His penis weighed on her and then was in her, pushing ever so gently.

“Please,” was all she could think of.

With a thrust, he was inside of her and then his mouth was suckling the vein in her neck and together, her pelvis and neck found a rhythm that echoed in her blood.

Holding Eric, she felt him explode inside of her. Stroking his back, she felt him relax and kissing her deep, long and passionate, he was then between her thighs. Licking, she realized, her hymen blood as she slipped into nothingness except for the feel of his tongue! His tongue worked its magic and she felt herself floating. Time held no meaning and the only thing she felt was contentment as the colors pulsed behind her eyes. This was The Void and the only thing in her world was this man and his touch.


Eric was on his side, pulling her up closer, his lips once more kissing her deep but very gently.

“Did…” she hesitated, hazy thoughts of the impossible floating up in her mind. “Did I pee in your mouth?” she asked.

“No,” he rubbed his nose against hers. “You ejaculated. Or squirted. What I was tasting was from your prostate gland. It is called prostatic-specific antigen. PSA is produced mainly by the Skene glands in females. No one knows for sure the function of the Skene glands. But they certainly do nice things for me. For a moment,” he nuzzled her neck, and then looked at her, “I thought I was going to drown.”

“Did you like it?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she felt the smile. “But, I feel…I feel like I would like a little something more.

Eric, would you do me a favor? Would you please suckle one breast and play with the other nipple.”

“M-m-m-m,” he sighed as he latched on, his tounge making contact then his lips while his fingers pulled on her other nipple.

“Ah-h-h,” she gasped, “harder…!”

His other hand was now on her mound, his fingers began working her clit. As the pressure increased in her breasts, so did the pressure in her womb. Her pelvic floor once more felt like it was pushing through the foundation of the universe as her fists were pounding the bed!

This organism took her body up off the bed, her pelvis trembling as he continued to push her.

“No more,” she sobbed as she wrapped her body around his.

“One more,” he whispered back as he slid into her, his mouth working her nipples; one, then the other as his tongue and teeth made her squirm as he pushed gently inside her. “Together,” he whispered in her ear as his tongue found its way into her mouth. His hand was on her clit, his other hand now massaging her ass, then her anus, then he slipped inside her there as well and his mouth covered her scream as her body tried to push through his as he gave her pleasure she did not know she was capable of having!

He felt her squirt against him as he pushed one last time and then found release inside her body.

Her body was still wrapped around his as he kissed her pulse point, bit, sipped and then healed the wound with his bloodied lip.

Pulling out, he held her as she whimpered his name, both his hands now stroking her back. Pulling her close. Kissing her lips.

“Sookie,” he whispered. “I have to go.”

“No,” she sighed and once more wrapped herself around him.

“Such is the penalty for having me as a lover,” he rubbed his nose against hers. “I will see you with the new dark. Rest,” he kissed he gently on the lips. “And sleep.”

Finding his clothes, he got dressed and then was vamp speed down the stairs and picking up her clothing, he was back up the steps to her room. Placing them on the chair, he listened to the outside noises. Opening the window, he was outside; then closing it, he was gone.



HRM Sophie-Anne had experienced better days, weeks, months, years, centuries….

“Were shit,” she hissed silently as she watched the on-going destruction of her residence as everything was photographed and inventoried.

It sucked having a maker that lived. She had received her marching orders. Her maker had called and told her to keep her ass in her residence and to behave herself. She did not have to offer up anything, but she could not interfere in anything. “You are not that special!” Zelda the Princess of the Rhone Valley had hissed through the phone at her. “You are more worthless than three day old Were shit! If I have to come to the New World because of something that you did was disrespectful to anyone, that shall be your last act of free will, child. I will bind you with silver and let Weres fuck you until your heart explodes or your ass gives birth to elephants.”

She knew that neither was going to happen. She had a brother chained in the dungeon of Mother Zelda’s villa and he had been down there for three centuries. And he was still servicing Weres. All his teeth were gone and his ass was available.

Not ever liking that brother, she had gone down one evening to watch in glee as they castrated him and used that hole as well.

Zelda was a good maker, but she was a mean bitch!

It was difficult to watch these bloodbags destroy her lovely home. Three more hours and the sun would come up and she could go to her rest. And this…this travesty could be forgotten for a few hours.

Roaming the top floor, she sat in the wind and watched the stars chase across the night sky. When the door to the roof opened, she could smell the Were. She did not recognize him. Her evening of peace was coming to a close. Give a Were a little power and they just did not shut the fuck up.

“Your majesty,” he sat down next to her. “A pleasant evening to sit and watch the sky. And those below you, hurrying about like self-important wind-up toys. Just as things start to get interesting, they run out of power. Just like you. You ran out of power.

And I also know that you would love to pick me up and toss me off this roof, but alas, your maker has told you what you can and cannot do. And you are to be helpful and kind at all times. I have see your brother Rodney chained in her basement,” he grinned. “I just might have availed myself of his charms. It is not everyday you get to fuck an old vamp. And you are what, two hundred years older than him,” he said wistfully as he took her hand and brought it to his lips in a kiss.

Hissing at him, she said nothing and removed her hand, willing her claws to stay put and not slit his throat with them.

“I understand,” he nodded. “To go from being the only child to having siblings. This was the same for me. I was the apple of my mother’s eye until she had four more and then I was useful for stealing what she could not. It is a tawdry world and we are always wanting what we cannot have.

Which brings me to our little tête-à-tête. I want Northman.”

Sophie-Anne broke into peals of laughter. “And just ask for the moon while you are at it,” she managed to squeak out. “My gawd, of all the ridiculous, fucked up Were shit that has happened to me in the past old darks, that is the most impossible that I have heard. You want Northman,” she hooted. “Who does not?”

The Were said nothing. Just stared at her. She was an old vamp. Had lived in Europe during the war. Did not help the Resistance, but did not hinder them either. But word of Northman’s exploits for the Allies among the Supernaturals were famous at the time. And that today, if Eric wanted something, he just made phone calls to those grateful governments and lo and behold, so it came to pass.

“So you honestly do not know that he has the power to save you? With one phone call, that would be all it would take for this to be over.”

HRM laughed out loud. “One phone call and Eric could save me? This is the fucking U.S. Federal government that has come calling.

Or, better yet, you think what? That The Sheriff of Area Five is going to coming galloping to my rescue and defeat all my enemies while we walk in the sunlight and pick flowers and drain children?”

“I thought he favored you,” he snarled. “Your maker talked of you being lovers.”

“My maker? Lovers? Favored me?” she laughed somewhat hysterically. “Well yes, I guess he does. I do not piss him off and he lets me continue to greet a new dark.”

“So,” he hesitated, “you do not know where he is?”

“Look, Were,” she smiled sweetly, “at any given moment I do not know where I am. I am just surprised to wake up and find myself still here. Watching the Feds one board and stone at a time take down my residence. No one has contacted me except for my maker. Telling me to just take it as it comes and be grateful that she is not here. I have not one clue where Northman, or the other four sheriffs of my kingdom happen to be.”

“Pity,” he sighed. “Any idea where to start?”

“He owns the vampire bar Fangtasia in Shreveport. From time-to-time he sits and lets the bloodbags admire him. But I am of the impression that the vampires in my kingdom have all gone on holiday. They have no one to answer too so they have packed a bloodbag and left town.”

“That would explain it,” was all he said as he stood. Bowing at the waist, he grinned at her. “I would bargain for the best deal possible when they finish here. As a matter of fact, I would take them to every piece of property that I own and then have them dismantle those as well. Just think of Scheherazade and her one thousand tales. You had better keep them interested.”

“So,” she righted herself. “Do you know what waits for me if I do not?” she snarked at him and rolled her eyes. “Something horrible I am sure.”

“Yes,” he grinned, “me. Tally Ho.” Turning, he walked across the roof and to the door. When she heard it close she shuddered. “The Tally Ho Man! I cannot be that lost to the cause!

Fuck,” she felt like shrieking. “Well, this certainly makes sense now. Mommy Maker has wanted Eric in her bed since time began. And she thinks I am fucking him. No wonder she hates me. Just might be for the best to greet the sun, except that royal old bitch has forbidden me to take my own life. This is not going to end well for me,” she said sitting back down and watching the night sky pass overhead.

Crankshaft was an old man when he was turned. His maker had wanted a peasant to remind him of his lesser days and had blessed him with vampire.

Because of the craziness of the world, Crankshaft had been misused and abused in his maker’s house. When his maker did not survive a village uprising, Scully Crankshaft was left to walk the world on his own. Lacking the social skills to make it as a renowned vampire, he did on occasion, find himself covered in swill dumped from the third floor by a whore.

But he was not stupid and he was capable of learning. So the centuries passed and he did not aspire to be rich and powerful, just useful to those that could protect him from a fast paced world.

Coming to the New World had been a good plan. Those vampires with ambition set themselves up as rulers. One for each state.

In Louisiana he found his calling.

There was one thing he was good at and that was opening doors and cleaning. Trash did not stand a chance and any leaves out of place were soon put back to rights. Grass clippings shuddered when he passed by and he was fierce and ferocious when he deadheaded the flowers in front of the residence. He was often mocked and scorned by the newbies but that was fine. He had a place to sleep and job security.

Every vampire worth his daily rising had a gift. And Old Cranky’s was his hearing. It was nothing for him to be inside amidst all the tumult and hear what was being said outside on the top floor.

And it was not such a bad life. He knew a couple of vampires who considered him a friend and they dwelled in very high places.

“Pardon sir,” he bowed as he approached the new agent on the floor. “It is five minutes until the half-past two hour. Might I please be excused to go to my other job?”

“He’s okay,” Special Agent Leland called over. “He works at the Blood on the Quarter from now until sunrise.”

Special Agent Sharps looked at him. “You work another job?” he asked.

“Gots to pay my taxes, I does,” he nodded. “And buy the Bloods. I own my Queen her due and workin’ here for room and board is part of that due. So I works The Blood to finish payin’ her taxes and those of the U.S. of A.”

“See you with the New Dark,” Sharps nodded.

“Yes, sir. Old Cranky will be here.”

Sharps walked over to Leland. “Seriously, they pay her taxes?”

Leland stifled a laugh. “Oh, we have discovered all manner of things since this bust. The age of owning serfs is not over. Crankshaft is a very good example of that. The vampire royal lives a very good lifestyle. Contributes nothing to society and hordes their wealth and apparently weapons so that they might invade their neighbor and kill all those vampires and rule there as well.”

“So they are all like this?” Sharps sounded disgusted.

“Oh,” Leland was now laughing out loud. “The rest of the vampire community is shocked and appalled at what has been found here. We have surveillance on all of them now. Truckloads of gold are being shifted around.”

“Damn,” Sharps grinned. “They probably did not pay taxes on that.”

“They are now,” Leland grinned even bigger. “Tax evasion. It got Al Capone. It will get your vampire ass as well.”





When Crankshaft entered the Blood, he found his apron, mop and bucket and stopped to speak to the short, good looking vampire barkeep.

Crankshaft was not known to have a phone and only one or two knew he did. He was discreet and trusted few in New Orleans. Mistress Pamela could not be reached but the message needed to go out. He and those who knew him were very old school about how they passed messages.

A sign went up in the The Blood’s bar window. “Help Wanted. Apply Within.”


Word was passed and within the hour Pamela called.

Blood on the Quarter, Samuel speaking.”

“Yes,” she snickered. “Brother Samuel, how are the tips tonight? I am calling about the help wanted sign in your window. Old Cranky must have very good news for me.”

“Wait one please,” he said, “and I will connect you with the owner.”

“Job application,” Samuel said to the bar keep beside him. They both nodded and Samuel went to the back office to take the call.

“What’s up?” she asked. “And why are you working The Blood?”

“I saw the sign in the window and I came in to work. Helps if you own the building. Allows you to set your own hours.

And I want to know first hand what is going on. And there is much going on. You know how vampires gossip. There is no truth to anything they say except that they went to ground with the sunrise and rose when it went down. I have not been inside HRM’s residence. Nor do I want too. But, I do so delight in hearing the details of her on going embarrassment. And it is most delightful.”

“All truth,” Pam chuckled. “Now what can I do for you and what says Old Cranky?”

“Wait one, and I will put him on.”

Samuel opened another door where Crankshaft was mopping and handed the phone to the old man cleaning the floors.

Bowing, he turned and left.

“Speak to me Darling One,” she smiled at the phone.

“Mistress,” he said pulling his for’lock. “HRM had a very special guest on the roof with her tonight. The Tally Ho Man. He is looking for the Sheriff of Area Five and apparently willing to cut any kind of deal if she can hook him up. If she cannot, when they are finished searching her buildings, Tally Ho gets her ass and other fine features. For his very own. Not that I care what he does to her. But I know that you care he is looking for your maker.”

“Cranky,” she grinned at him and flashed him the girls. “Please hand this phone back to Samuel. The small vampire that gave it to you. I will tell him you need fulltime employment.”

“Thank you kindly mistress,” he said.

Crankshaft was out the door and to the front of the bar. With a bow, handing the phone to Samuel, he was gone.

“Moving to my office,” Samuel said to Pam and was gone vamp speed.

Pam heard the electronic beep of the bio scan and then Samuel sitting down. Time to be all business. “You think this Were shit is the terrorists’ inside guy in the government?”

“That would be a very good guess,” Samuel nodded. “We know there are one or two sprinkled liberally amongst the group. Just pass the word to Eric and I will keep my eyes open here. If he comes in for a drink, the Were just very well may not be leaving in the same condition that he entered.”

“Thank you Brother Samuel, I will pass the word.”

“My pleasure child. Please give my regards to your maker.”


Hanging up, Pam walked out of her office and was up on the roof. Eric was incoming at a high rate of speed and feeling very good about something!

When he landed, she could smell what had been a virgin all over him. Rolling her eyes, she bowed her head. “I am so glad one of us had a most excellent old dark.”

Eric said nothing.

Well drat. Most have been really, really, nice!

“The Tally Ho Man was up on the roof with HRM wanting to know where you were? Sounds like he just might be one of the few who knows who on the inside is wheeling and dealing the U.S. arms. Wasn’t his last job running rockets out of Russia? Somehow, that container got blown up or some such sad story before it made it up through the chain of command.”

Eric nodded. “I understand he purchased that lovely home on the Med after that. Might do the world a favor and just meet him for a beer, break his neck and call it done.

But in the mean time, HRM is out of the loop. Take some time off. I mean off the grid. I am here to pick up some money and spend a few weeks in Sweden. The Northern Lights are blazing and I have not been home in a couple of centuries. Plus, it is just so fucking dark there.”

“Good plan,” Pam grinned. “Let us pack and go!”


“Good plan,” the Tally Ho Man chuckled as he pulled out his earwig.


“Good plan,” Eric grinned as he rolled his eyes and saluted the listening device closest to him.

Making his way to Pam’s office she smiled. “Have him. In New Orleans, heading out of HRM’s…”

“Let me know where,” Eric grinned. “I am outbound.”

“That is the problem with today’s electronics,” she smiled happily while she tracked the signal on her device. “Dumb Were. I locked on before you shut down. Fatal mistake.



Eric was super sonic and in fifteen minutes he was walking into The Blood.

Smiling, he walked up to the bar and sat down. Samuel walked over and smiling at him, motioned him back to his office.

Turning on the white noise, Samuel hugged him while Eric wrapped his arms around him and held on.

“What?” Samuel asked looking up at him. “I can smell her. Are you here to brag?”

“Well maybe,” Eric kissed him on the top of the head and stepped back. “Samuel, you said that saliva forms when you wake on your God’s holy days. That is how you know you can day walk.”

“That is correct,” he nodded. “And eat and drink anything fruit based from my homeland that I knew as a human.”

Eric opened his mouth as Samuel stared.

“Saliva,” the short vampire smiled at his brother. “When?”

“This dark,” Eric nodded. “The woman I was with, when I had a taste of her blood, it formed. I could not believe it and asked her to check to make sure I was not imagining things.”

“You think she is your holy lady?” Samuel grinned at him and then became very serious. “The one that your grandmother saw in her vision?”

“Samuel, I do not know what to think. That is why I am here to see you. Grandmother was dying and very vague. All she said was Your holy lady shall light your path.

At the time, I thought I knew what constituted a holy lady. After being turned, you are the most holy person I know.” Leaning down he looked his brother in the eyes. “What do you think about the saliva? Please, tell me.”

“Eric,” Samuel shook his head. “Honestly. I don’t know what to think other than let us not push that. If you can stay up and not get the bleeds, that would be a starting point. But perhaps I have another starting point. We have some mead and honey. We rim the glass with the honey and add the mead. If you don’t puke your guts out, that might be a place to start and I won’t worry about you going up in a ball of flames.” Carefully, Samuel studied him. His brother was so easy and yet so difficult to read. This woman…this woman…Eric was not one to let his emotions lead him into the morning blazing sun. Now he wanted to do just that.

“Have you feed from her more than once?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

There was no mistaking that smell. Virgin. Sweet. Innocent. Delightful. Eric’s…

So she was not a blood whore and Eric thought she just might be his holy lady. “And do you feel any different anywhere else? Any other human traits that might interfere with you being vampire?”

“No,” he shook his head as he did a silent inventory. “Just a wet mouth.”

“My brother, there are many questions with no answers. Ere on the side of caution. I would say continue to monitor this phenomenon. Do you go back to vampire normal if you do not drink from her? Must your drink everyday to produce saliva? There are many variations that could play out. I want you to be safe. Happy yes, but safe.”

“Things to consider,” Eric nodded. “Back to work. I need to find Tally Ho. Pamela is tracking him for me. Seriously,” he rolled his eyes, “this lower than Were shit put a listening devices on top of our roof. Pam is jumping up and down for joy because she gets to try out her new toy. And many thanks to you for gifting it to her.”

Samuel placed his hands over his heart. “Always my pleasure to keep the child in useful amusements.

When you have the time,” Samuel took a step closer, “I would love to hear about your new lady.”

“Is it that obvious?” Eric grinned.

“You are happy, my brother,” Samuel hugged him. “Genuinely happy.”

“This is a story in the making. What are you doing through 12th Night?”

“What ever is needed,” Samuel replied.

“Excellent. We are headed for Ian’s. Give him a call and invite yourself in. We shall be in London through Christmas then Sookie wants to stay in a castle. So we shall head out to Ian’s country estate. I think I can safely leave her there while I hunt the terrorist cell.”

“What?” Samuel said. “Terrorist cell?” he said leaning in, biting off his words. “My Brother,” and you could hear the hurt in his voice, “I have not spoken to you in five days and you are hunting a terrorist cell?”

“In the telling,” Eric grinned. “Now, I shall return soonest. I don’t think this is going to take me very long. Have you an account for a Sheridan Wilson?”

Samuel arched an eyebrow as he began inputting numbers. “No,” he replied, looking up at his brother. “Should I have?”

“He is also known as The Tally Ho Man. A Were who is a torturer by trade for governments who do not wish to dirty their own hands and at least a double agent roaming freely within the U.S. government. Who knows what else he has those hairy Were fingers in. Munitions for sure.”

“Does not pop up,” Samuel said. “Anywhere on the money side. So he is dirty.”

“Just as I thought,” Eric nodded. “Cash and carry, only. He is in with Wion, the terrorist who wants to start the war between the Supernaturals and the humans.”

Samuel once more input information into his phone. “Nothing remarkable there, either,” he frowned as he moved information, around.

“Wilson should not have stopped off this evening to speak to HRM. His choice of words gave him away.”

“Crankshaft does have exceptional hearing,” Samuel grinned.

“Indeed,” Eric smiled. “Now, let me be gone so I can return that much sooner.”

“Eric,” Samuel’s voice held a warning. “Please my brother, do not push this day walking. We only know what holds true for me.”

“Of course,” he bowed his head. “This is only the beginning phase.”

“Eric…” Samuel raised an eyebrow at him.

“Let me kill the Were then we shall drink a toast to your holy days. I know Hanukah starts with the new dark.

And if I do not puke my guts out, a toast to my holy lady.”


It was not difficult to track the Were. Pamela was feeding him the GPS coordinates into his watch. They were headed back into the French Quarter towards the Mississippi River. Yes, Canal Street was going to dump him at the river. There had been a parade earlier this evening and the revelry was still going on in the streets. Police were on the street corners and beads were still being tossed from balconies along the parade route.

There was a large, rich looking party barge docked at the wharf with hundreds of people milling about. Some departing, others boarding.

Eric joined the crowd and helped himself to someone’s invitation as he passed by and trifled through the drunkard’s pockets. Tally Ho was on the top deck, a drink in one hand and his hand on the ass of a good looking male as he stood talking to…to…Eric took a step to one side so he could see. It was Montague out of Scotland Yard.

Hitting the open mic on his watch and turning on the camera, he was now streaming live to Pamela and Samuel as well.

Eric took a photo and included a text message. Montague/The Yard.


The distinguished older gentleman that lived in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, checked his phone. “Fuck!” he hissed. Going into his study, he closed the door and punching in his code, the SCIF privacy shields dropped into place.

“Benny,” a voice on the other end of laptop called out. “Sorry about the mess. Caught me at a bad time. Just finishing up taking care of some rather unpleasant business.”

“Well, there is more ahead,” the American said matter-of-fact. “Montague, as of this moment, has been confirmed.”

“That’s impossible,” Devon replied. “He is here, working his contacts in Northern Ireland.”

“Photo is inbound, taken just moments before.”

“Were shit,” Devon scratched his head as he looked at the information. “We just had a shake down in The Yard. The question is going to be asked how we missed him. Oh say, is that Tally Ho Man he is chatting up?”

“Indeed,” Benjamin Castle nodded. “The one and only and soon to be, I believe dead. I don’t think my agent will bring him in alive. Wilson has friends in all the agencies and runs with a rough crowd. There are all kinds of folks here helping to clean out HRM Vampire’s lair. They mostly can be trusted. One or two are probably his buddies and would think nothing of helping him to escape.”

“So, no information forthcoming,” Devon sighed.

“Would not count on that. We will be boots on the ground in your city in a manner of days.”

“Don’t want to know,” The English Lord smiled. “Deniability and all that. If you can, let me take claim for the demise of the terrorists.”

“Oh you know I will,” Ben laughed. “Can not be said we have U.S. citizens killing terrorists on English soil. Just makes us all look bad.”

“Hear hear!” Devon shouted gleefully.

“My old friend, a very merry Christmas to you and yours!”

“And to you as well,” Devon bowed his head and logged off.

“Yes, God bless us every one,” Castle leaned his head back against his chair. “At least we now know what we are chasing. Fucking Werewolves,” he growled as he put his feet up and waited on Eric to call.


There was last call to board and then the crew cast off and were under way. Yes, just party your way up and down the river. Do a little business, get laid in the not so dark corners, drink and hope like crazy that you can write this off your taxes and that your wife does not find out. Or that she does not catch some disease from the male she is fucking in the corner and streaming on social media.

As Eric wandered the crowd, he helped himself to things that were useful. Eyeliner, mascara, and a bit of lip gloss from different ladies’ purses. Nothing too heavy; he did not want to look distracted or discounted or desperate. When regarded by the buyers, he was someone who was comfortable with who he was and what he had to offer. After all, he was a class act. “No cheap piece of meat here,” he grinned as he ducked into a bathroom, applied enough to enhance his lethal charm and batting his eyes, wishing he had picked up a bit of blue eye shadow. “I do so miss Princess Di,” he sighed. “She brought back blue eye shadow with her own sheer strength of will. All the nay-sayers and fashion elitists smirked at her behind her back but just look at us now. A whole generation once more applying, generously, blue above their eyes, in either a powder or cream.” With one last swipe of the mascara, he regarded his hair. It looked good, but not wild party good.

“When you have no mousse, just a touch of liquid soap!” Into his palm the soap settled and then carefully into his hair…no soap bubbles please and waaaa-laaa. Spiked hair! Carefully he gathered his shirt in the back and tucked the folds into his waistband so that the buttons on the front were gasping with pleasure to be undone. Grinning, he traced the outline of his pecs.

“King Eric, you are on. Do not disappoint. We are trolling for Weres.”

“Will do,” came the reply from his crotch. “Stretching out the front, peeking out the top or both?”

“Both,” Eric replied. “It is going to be that kind of evening.” Fussing with his makeup one last time he took a step back.

“Damn Northman, not bad,” he admired himself in the mirror. “Now, let’s go catch us a couple of Weres.”

You had to have a certain something to get up the stairs to the third floor deck. Eric did not have an invite to that lofty stratosphere, but he did have a tight ass and a tight shirt and King Eric peeking out past his unbuttoned and loosened belt. Plus, who could resist those come hither lips when he pushed his pelvis forward and batted those eyelashes.

The guard looked him over and waved him through. “Back railing,” he said. “Completely undo the belt buckle. These guys are rip roaring and will show you a very good time but don’t like to wait. The high rollers are into threesomes. The others are not that rich.”

“Thanks,” he breathed out and fluttered his eyelashes as the guard ran his hand down Eric’s ass as he started up the stairs.

“Sex, drugs and rock n’ roll,” he noted as he passed by happy couples smoking, snorting, drinking and sexing their way to happiness.

Most good. The Weres had just downed one drink and had picked up another. King Eric was working his charms and was just barely wet on the tip. But it was enough for the Weres to smell. He saw them sniff the air and then look in his direction as he lounged behind a column while he saw their reflection in the glass. “Game on,” he winked at his own likeness staring back at him.

Eric slowly cruised by the exclusive crowds and when invited to do so stopped to chat. The evening temperature hovered in the 40’s and the have’s were dressed in expensive jackets and the ladies fur coats. The have not’s did not cover up what it was they were selling. There were several ladies who licked their lips when they saw King Eric and mouthed “Later” at him. More than one had rubbed their hand across his nipples and flicked them playfully.

Carefully he watched the crowd and formulated each step that he took. There had been one or two from the “back rail” that had looked his way more than once. He could hear the occasional chatter about the lick the dick on the stick. T

he Were Montague was beginning to glance his way more often. Weres came with I can have what you want attitude. Tally Ho would not disappoint him. He would be over if for no other reason to show the English poser how it was done.

But he was not yet the main attraction. Clearly, the way the men were clustered around, someone was getting a blowjob and bets were being placed when the happy recipient would blow. Since he did not see Tally Ho but could smell him, he was guessing it was the last, best sex the Were was ever going to have.

On the plus side, the farther back you advanced to that part of the ship, the darker it became. Even the exit lights had been disconnected. “Coast Guard would have something to say about that,” he smiled to himself. The top third of his body was now bathed in shadows. Not that anyone had been looking at his face. All eyes had been riveted on King Eric.

The railing was ten feet in front of him and to his left there was a small alcove. It was a drink station when the boat carried tourists by day. He could smell the spilled syrup from the sodas.

It was something a little bit more private for special parties. That is where he was headed.

Oh, most good. There was a grunt. Dead Were Walking had just cum. The back rail party was breaking up. Men were calling over to waiters for another round and money was being passed back and forth as they went in search of their next bit of entertainment.

Eric ducked in and sat down on the oversized, overstuffed chair. Listening, he could hear the footsteps approaching and he could smell the Were, Montague. Eric moved over to the side of the chair and a body slid in next to him.

“Hello Gorgeous,” was laughed as he slid his arm around Eric’s body, his hand now coming in contact with his left nipple. “I don’t believe I have seen you here before.”

Eric fidgeted. “My Mistress sent me away from her. I am being punished.”

“First time with a man?” and Eric could hear the smile in Montague’s voice.

“Yes,” his voice quivered a bit. “She rode me in the car on the way over and forbid me to cum.”

“The entire evening?” the Were’s voice was now very amused.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Oh, poor thing,” he pinched Eric’s nipple and the vampire gasped. “I can smell her all over you. She certainly knew what she was about. Got you cocked and loaded and forbidden to shoot.

Do you have blue balls?” he squeezed Eric’s nipple harder.

“Yes,” he gasped.

“Do you mind if I call you Blue Balls while I am coming in your mouth?”

“No” he sobbed. In a swift move, his knees went to the left and right side of the Were’s thighs. Straddling the Were with his body. Eric made a fist and delivered a fast hit to his heart. “But I prefer the name Eric Northman.”

The Were’s eyes were beginning to bug out. His heart had gone into an unnatural rhythm and a massive heart attack was just seconds.

“Dumb shit Were. You should have stayed for the blow job.”

“Oh, there your Monty,” Tally Ho called out and walking over slapped Eric on the ass.

“Seriously, old man, I can smell the shit from here. Are we all playing in that or just the pretty boy,” he rubbed his crotch against Eric’s back side.

“You do not mind if I call you Pretty Boy? Do you,” Tally Ho whispered in his ear and then licked it.

“No,” Eric replied. “I would however,” Eric whispered as he turned and slammed his fist into Tally Ho’s chest, the Were gasping for breath, “prefer that you call me Eric Northman. I understand you wanted to meet me.”

Pushing Tally Ho to his knees, he put the Were’s head in Monty’s lap.

Eric tucked King Eric back into place and fastened his pants. Adjusting his shirt he stood up and turning, walked away from the body that had just gasped out its last.

The couples had settled in for another around of drugs and a floorshow and the back rail was deserted. Glancing around, he was the center of no one’s attention and up he went into the night sky.


Eric landed on his balcony at The Blood. First thing he did was fire off a text message. Rule Britannia was all it said. He undressed as he made his way to the bathroom. Hopping into the shower, he hated to wash the smell of Sookie off, but he had to be rid of the Were smell.

Sookie, well, he would wear her perfume again. These Weres…well hell no.

Once he was clean, he dressed and went downstairs to the bar.

Samuel arched an eyebrow at him when he sat down and ordered a Blood.

“A good evening?” Samuel asked, humor in his voice as he heated one and poured it into a balloon shaped wine glass.

“A very good evening,” Eric replied. “Did I happen to mention that Sookie says I feel warm to her?”

“No,” Samuel said as he washed out a glass. “You did not.”

“Well,” Eric grinned. “Just one more something special about her. When does your shift end?”

“Another twenty minutes.”

“Most excellent, until that time, please, allow me to purchase a round for the house. And barkeep, have whatever you want on me.”


Crankshaft sat in the back, behind a lock door, having his bagged blood and counting his blessings. He did not have much but he knew who his friends were. Tonight he would sleep at The Blood. There was a light tight room just for him and a mini bar full of bagged blood. No need to savor the one he had, there were plenty more waiting for him. And an hour yet to go before sunrise.

“Miss Pamela is mighty good to me,” he sighed. “Finding me extra jobs, seeing that I get paid and treated right. Now that HRM is out of business, the Little Missy says I can work full time here. She has spoken to the bar manager. Old Cranky, you are indeed blessed.” he sighed as he looked around the closet where the cleaning supplies were kept. Admiring the electronic key to his room, he turned off the light and started up stairs.


Dear Readers,


Here is to you and 2017! Be good to yourself and those that are blessed to call you friend!

In 2017….Dream…dream big!

From our house to your house, God’s blessings and good wishes on you and yours!

As always, thanks for reading!

Be blessed and be the blessing!

Happy New Year!


PS…looks like this is no Christmas short story…I guess it is going to be a Christmas long story…woohoo!


Joyeux Noël Chapter 6


The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël


Chapter 6


Eric watched Sookie as she went through the kitchen taking out what was needed to make her sandwich. A piece of cheese, another piece of cheese.

Hmmm…..lifting lids she stuck her finger in the container of soup and grinned. “Lobster bisque, I think,” she sighed. “I am going to have just a small bit of that as well.

How is it you know so much about food?” she asked.

“Well, many of these things I had when I was human. My mother used to make a lobster soup that was outstanding. Roasted meat in the fireplace, cowboy steaks I think you call them today, were delicious. And we are talking food that was grown before the industrialized world polluted everything. I might not be able to taste the difference, but I can certainly smell it. And a thousand years ago, it all smelled much cleaner.”

“To include the humans, huh,” she said as she spread the horseradish sauce on her prime rib sandwich. “Does the blood taste different?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “It does.”

“It really is rude of me to eat in front of you,” she looked at him as she put her cup of soup in the counter top microwave. “Should I offer you my wrist or neck or somethin’?”

A small, strangled, chuckled escaped from him. “I would like nothing more,” he smiled at her. “But really, it is not necessary. I ate before I left.”

“You don’t strike me as they type to drink True Blood,” she remarked, as she looked him over. “Bagged blood?” she asked carefully as she took the soup out.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“But you mostly drink from humans, huh,” she was watching him. “I mean, you obviously have money. I have heard about the people who make a livin’ by lettin’ vampires drink from them.”

“We call them blood whores,” Eric responded slowly and carefully. “And yes, I do that.”

“Good lookin’, huh?” she pushed on.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“I get that,” she said matter-of-factly. “Folks at Merlotte’s want their beer cold and their meal hot.

I mean, that was what was so great about today’s meals. They were the temperature they were supposed to be and they were attractively displayed. The desserts that were served to us were just too pretty to eat. But we managed,” she added with a grin.

“If you were a human guest,” she began slowly, “I would offer you something to eat. I mean, we have folks over and we cook for them and everyone sits down to eat. That is what you do.”

“Sookie…” Eric began.

“No, Eric. I like you. I mean, I like you enough that if you were human, I would fix you a meal. That is a big deal here in the South. You feed the people you care about.”

Watching his eyes change color, he picked up her hand and kissed it.

Damn, he did everything with grace and a touch that bespoke fine manners. He was probably just as deadly as he was brilliant and sophisticated.

“You are talking about two people in a relationship,” he offered.

“Okay,” she nodded her head. “I mean, I know this is a short term kinda deal. That I am not Cinderella and you are not Prince Charming and we are not going to live a happily ever after. But I want some great memories and I want to dream big and when you move on and go back to your mainstream politics and gorgeous blood whores, I don’t want any regrets or wish I would have or why didn’t I.

I talked all this out with Gran. My Grandpa has been gone ten years longer than they were together. She has her memories of him, but she wishes she had more memories.

And I don’t think there is another man in Bon Temps she wants to make more memories with.

I get that. The folks that leave here don’t come back. New people that do move here are married and come with their family and for a specific job. No one just up and says I am gonna move to no where in Louisiana, Bon Temps.

I am twenty-seven, pushing this side of thirty and never been out of Louisiana. The most excitement in my life is when we pay our tax bill on time. I am not complaining. I know that I have more than most.

But you have offered me more than that. And I am grateful. Not pity-fuck kind of grateful,” she smiled at him.

“No, no pity-fuck…” Eric looked very sad and sniffled.

Her chuckle filled the room. “But grateful enough that I figure if you are hungry, I can do for you what I do for anyone else who steps through our door.

And besides, we are gonna’ have sex but it is gonna’ be somethin’ we both want and not because I am hot to use my passport. Or be a spy…,” she grinned, “or a best sellin’ author.”

“Do you mean,” Eric placed a piece of cheese on her sandwich, “that you are going to sex me up because you want just me?”

“Somethin’ like that,” she replied as he added sliced tomato to her sandwich.

“Well if you must,” he grinned at her.

“Now,” she said putting the lettuce on and then the top to her sandwich. Touching the knife tip to her index finger, there was an “ouch” sound from her as the drop of blood welled up and she offered him her finger.

Eric’s eyes glazed over as the smell wafted up and he could taste the aroma on his tongue. Gently lifting her hand, he massaged it until the blood drop got bigger. Just before it ran down her finger, he brought it to his mouth and suckled gently. His lips, teeth and tongue pulling the pad of her finger into his mouth, just past his teeth. The red, oxygen rich, elixir of life coated his tongue and dissolved there. And something very interesting happened.

“Would you take a look at my tongue and tell me what you see?” he said, sticking it out.

“Looks like a tongue,” she said with mirth in her voice.

Eric was looking cross-eyed at it and then ran his finger across it and stared at his finger.

“Would you touch it? And tell me what it feels like?”

Sookie started to laugh. “Is this some version of foreplay?”

“Maybe,” he wiggled his eyebrows as she reached over with her index finger and slide it back and forth a couple of times.

“It’s a tongue,” she grinned as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“Did it feel wet?” he asked.

“Yes, warm and wet. Kinda soft. It feels just like a tongue.”

“Vampires do not produce saliva,” he replied.

Sookie stopped chewing and said, “Show me your tongue, again.”

Eric stuck it back out and she once more ran her finger across it. “Warm and wet,” she nodded.

“That is most peculiar, Miss Stackhouse,” he smiled at her. “Please eat. Then I think maybe we shall experiment.”

Sookie enjoyed her sandwich and Eric enjoyed her company. She was refreshingly blunt, honest, and interested in the seamier side of vampire.

“So,” she dipped her sandwich in the last of the soup, “is one blood type better than the other? Does it matter if it is male or female? I honestly don’t mind feeding you, but I want to know what is the very best I can make it for you.”

Explaining to her about how sex enriched the blood, how that was the vampire optimum she nodded, “So, you want to feed from me after we have sex?”

“You are not making this easy on me Sookie,” he shook his head. “Yes, I would want to but only if you wanted me too. The vampire movie Cast Not A Shadow, does a very good job with the sex scene out on the boat and then the feeding. It is realistic. And the vampire female, two male, three way in the vampire’s lair, also very realistic. Tastefully done but more than soft porn.”

“I don’t know that I have watched porn,” she said. “Especially vampire porn. I mean, there is some pretty sexed-up things at the movies but I mostly go with Gran so nothing real nasty.

You like real nasty?”

“I think, Miss Stackhouse, I am going to like whatever you like.”

“Well, I like you,” she grinned and then got serious. “And I don’t want to have sex with two guys. So don’ t be invitin’ one of you buddies along.”

“I will not,” he crossed his heart, “I promise.”



When they came out of the kitchen, Gran had gone to bed and Lafayette was left sitting by the fire.

“What’s up?” Sookie asked.

“Watch,” he said as he stared at the fire. “More,” he breathed our in a whisper and it roared up the chimney.

“Quiet,” he said and the fire settled down into itself.

“Damn, that’s impressive,” Sookie sat down next to him. “Does Gran know?”

“Yes. She said she was getting cold and I said I would put another log on to make the fire freakin’ bigger,” he said to the fireplace and the flames shot up again. “Quiet,” he said and it was a merry happy contained fire. “And this happened. She said she it was bed time and kissin’ me on the cheek, she went that way.”

“Well, you have been sipping the porto,” Sookie smiled. “And alcohol will make a fire blaze higher.”

Lafayette looked doubtful. “Miss Sooks, that very delicious porto we have been sippin’ since noon nourishments. Comes in a hit-or-miss 375 ml hand blown bottle with a big price tag. Between the three of us, we have gone through two and opened a third. And I am gettin’ ready to finish that one off. Now, I am not drivin’ home but sleepin’ upstairs with my happy buzz.

That has been my evenin’ so far. What you two been talkin’ about in the kitchen? Been gettin’ a vibe from there.”

“Vampire sex,” Sookie said. “Eric said the sex scenes in the vampire movie Cast Not A Shadow were realistic and true to form.”

“Saw that,” he was shaking his head at Sookie. “I thinks we could just calls that porn.”

“That is what Eric said. But I want to have sex with him and told him no to a three way.”

Lafayette arched both eyebrows at Eric.

“Cross my heart,” he said making the x again over his heart.

“I hears the truth in that,” he replied, with his head tilted to one side. “Literally.” Running his hands over the coat he settled into it and then looked at Eric.

“Where did you get this?”

“I called my tailor, described what I wanted and he made it.”

“You can call a tailor at three of the clock in the A.M.?” Lafayette sounded shocked and horrified.

“The Woos’ have been my tailor since I came to the New World. They are paid handsomely for taking that early morning call. They do not find it strange or unusual and sound happy to hear from me. I believe my early morning calls have put several generations through medical school.”

“Mr. Woo?” Lafayette repeated. “Chinese?”

“Yes,” Eric nodded.

“He have dragons and things of the fire breathin’ hangin’ in his shop? Magical things? Mysterious and calculated things?”

“Well,” Eric was thoughtful. “He does have a lovely dragon screen for changing behind. It has been in his family for countless generations. And yes, a jade dragon on a shelf looking into a small mirror.”

“Lookin’ into a mirror. They know the blessin’. Well okay then,” he nodded and righted himself. “The good folks that made this imparted some of themselves in it and that includes the dragon spirit. Gots to think on this. My Granny Woman used to reference the big lizard that was the talisman of her people. That would be my people as well. I always thought she meant one of the lizards native to Africa that coulds be seen out the back door. Lordy…I needs deep, deep, thoughts. I am finishin’ this bottle and headin’ that way. Alcohol and dragons and lizards, oh my…”

“Good night Lafayette,” Sookie kissed him on the cheek.

“You twos behave,” he grinned as he filled his glass and started for the stairs. “I ams closin’ my door. Please show me the same courtesy. What they did on that boat was spec-tac-u-lar and just as nasty and pleasin’ as it comes! That poor woman screamin’ for release and when it comes it almost kills her and almost drowns the vamp! Please, none of that business with me across the hall.”

As he walked away, Sookie poked Eric in the ribs. “Drowns the vamp?”

“Yes,” he said with a smile.

“You want to drown?” she said looking dubious.

“In you,” he ran his tongue across her top lip. “That’s the plan.”


Dear Readers,

Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!

Just a short chapter to wish you all the season’s best!

Looks like Eric got a small gift from Santa himself…hmmm…saliva…?

May Heaven and Nature sing!

As always, thanks for reading!

Be blessed and be the blessing,



Joyeux Noël Chapter 5




The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël


Chapter 5


When Pam heard the back door open, she knew the king of his castle had returned. And he smelled like he had returned victorious!

Opening her office door he stuck his head in. “I am going to change. Brief me in ten.”

Entering his office, he took his phone out of his pocket and did a quick look through. He had two hundred new text messages, that many new e-mails and several phone calls that had left messages.

Taking off his clothes, he bagged them and then handed them to Pam when she came in. “She smells delicious,” she said taking a whiff inside the bag before she closed it.

Eric said nothing, just pulled on his t-shirt and slipping into his shoes, sat down.

The boss was not chatty. Or smirking. Or anything other than business. Well fuck…! “News travels very fast. There are all manner of vampires out front. Sitting quietly and drinking their True Bloods. They are just happy to be here,” she grinned.

“What do you hear from the residence?” he asked.

“The Feds are still taking it apart. Many interesting things are being found. To include skeletons dating from the past owners and several dating from the present owner. A couple of humans that were drained almost unto death with no intention of being made vampire and several vampires that had been cooked with ultra violet lights.

Her gold cache was found in a safe in a room that had been cleverly disguised as an outside wall and of course, under the throne room floor, there was a massive weapons cache along with several million in Swiss francs. Seems no one wants U.S. dollars anymore.”

Eric and Pam both snickered. U. S. dollars. They could not have enough of them.

“No one is talking, crying or denying. I am under the impression HRM thinks she can plea-deal her way out of this.”

Eric shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t think she understands that no one in the government gives a Were’s dirty ass if she is the Vampire Queen of Louisiana or not.

The mayor thinks she is something because she brings in tourism. But nobody wants the Feds living on their front porch greeting everyone who comes to the door. That is very bad for tourism.”

Pam nodded. Eric was always about the bottom line. Whether it be deaths from a war, snowfall on his favorite mountain, or money. “Oh, and to continue on the who gives a fuck train of thought,” Pam snickered. “Herveaux’s old lady bit his dick off tonight. Word in the bar is that she was high and he wanted a blow job and she fixed it so he it would be one he would never forget and he would not ever want another one.”

“Ouch,” Eric chuckled.

“So if you go out front, you will know what all the snickering is about. And there is a lot of it.”

“Thank you child,” Eric bowed his head to her. “I consider myself blessed for knowing. Now, Daddy has work to do and phone calls to make.”




Bowing her head, she stepped out and closed the door. On cue, Eric’s phone rang.

“Ian,” he smiled at his friend.

“Wion is here,” he said. “Once we got the name, we started checking flight manifests. He came in through Heathrow, just as bold as brass.”

“Really?” Eric was puzzled. “Why not just straight into Paris as long as he was headed that way?”

“Someone on the French end was probably waiting for him would be my guess,” Ian replied. “Since weapons and gold just do not magically appear there has to be someone who wants their money. In lieu of that, I am guessing they would settle for the Were’s head in a prolonged, tortured, sort of way.”

“You thinking he has gone home?” Eric said pulling up his map of England.

“Oh…wait one,” Ian said as he turned to speak to someone.

Turning back around to his phone, Ian did not look pleased.

“What?” Eric asked.

“The Were was picked up by an auto that has French diplomatic plates. My contact was of the impression that it belongs to someone high up with fingers dabbling everywhere. Not always in the best of places.” Ian became thoughtful. “There are always stories that abound, especially during the Christmas Season with all the Yuletide balls, that there is a Black ops group made up of x-pat Weres that reside on the continent that are notorious English murderers. Jack the Ripper being their first recruit. Supposedly, they come back to England during the Christmas Season to hunt the same areas they did two hundred plus years ago.”

“Any proof?” Eric asked.

“Could be copy-cats and Scotland Yard keeps it all hush-hush. But there was a Ripper style murder in the Whitehall area the end of November. Jack was said to have ended his killing spree before Yuletide rolled around, but he didn’t. The police in his day just kept it out of the press.

William Carnes, James Whitlock, Saide Parsons, and a few others,” Ian nodded. “London normally has four to five murders, gruesome murders, during December to 12th Night.”

“Well that changes the scope of things a bit,” Eric was thoughtful if not a bit gleeful. “If they are running as a pack, I am going to need something more than my bare hands to kill them. I’ll sharpen my sword.

On a happier note, are you decorated for Yuletide?” Eric asked.

“Yes, of course,” Ian responded. “Complete with roasting chestnuts in the courtyard in the evenings.”

“You have rooms for guests?”

Ian snorted. “There are twenty-seven lovely bedrooms in my castle. I believe I can accommodate you and a few quests.”

“Thanks for the information,” Eric grinned. “I will be in touch. Perhaps a small party for the holidays. Perhaps we shall even be in attendance for your ball.”

“Well, tally ho!” Ian smiled, saluted smartly and signed off.

“Tall ho is correct,” Eric grinned as he called a number in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia.


When the phone picked up Eric heard, “Eric, so good to hear from you, again. What have you learned?”

“Well Director,” Eric was all business as he began to impart the newest intelligence work on this side of the Atlantic.

When Eric finished, there was profound, deadly silence coming from the other end of his phone.

“You think the Were is still in England?” the Director’s voice was hushed.

“I think he will be there to attend the Yuletide festivities that he was denied when his father sent him from his home in disgrace. He will hob-nob with the rich, famous, and political, kill a couple of women in Whitehall and then head for his next assignment.”

“Eric, what do you need to hunt him?”

“I am going to need three passports for my special team. All three live in Bon Temps.”

“Go with the names,” he said.

“Lafayette Reynolds, Adele Stackhouse and Sookie Stackhouse.”

“You need salaries and per diem?”

“No, Director, what I do need is for them to not show up anywhere in the government mainframes. They are law-abiding citizens and they pay their taxes. I just want them to live their lives when this is finished. They are going as my consultants and I will pay them from my government account. What I am going to need are small but dainty weapons that fire silver bullets with maximum damage when we get across the pond.

Now, if I could get those passports, today, that would be most helpful. Wion is on the ground possibly somewhere in London and time is wasting.”


When Eric went to ground as the old dark cleared from the sky, he was feeling very positive about the next several days. He would need a week of constant intel updates from the content. When he left with his Scooby Gang, they would be coming onto Christmas. All the parties would take them right up to Christmas and Ian’s Yuletide masked ball. He was going to have to sell this to the Bon Temps Trio…in a big way.

Sookie did not strike him as the type to leave her home during the holidays. So, hopefully, it was just a matter of taking her family with her.

Neither she or Lafayette would walk away from their job at Merlotte’s. So he would have to supple some type of long-term revenue that would give them options. And if Gran could make some extra money, that would just sweeten the pot. Feeling very confident about this, he let himself into his day chamber and settled in.


“Sookie,” Gran called up stairs. “I need you to come down, dear. Breakfast has arrived.”

When Sookie walked downstairs, there were flowers, everywhere! When she went into the kitchen, there was a lovely linen embroidered and embellished Christmas table-cloth out on the kitchen table along with placemats, napkins and what appeared to be exquisite silver and gold hunting horn napkin rings, along with matching silverware and just as beautiful and ornate hunting scene dishes.

“Ho ho ho,” Gran said as she handed her the card, as the wait staff went about their business.

Sookie read it…it was from Eric of course…

Enjoy breakfast.” His small missive requested. “E. N.”

“Thanks,” Sookie said after the food had been placed on the table in beautiful baskets. ”Let me just see you good folks to the door.”

When she came back, Gran was pouring coffee and smiling.

“He has class,” she chuckled. “Now, you want to tell me about E.N.?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “but let’s dish up this egg and potato casserole and pass me one of those blueberry muffins. Smells like really good coffee,” she said pulling the cork or the thermos. “When my tummy stops rumbling, I will be ready to talk.”


“Vampire…” Gran kept repeating as Sookie progressed with her story. “Eric Northman on TV…he really is a vampire…”

“He is not anything like Compton, Gran,” Sookie would reassure her. “The first time I saw Compton walk in Merlotte’s, it was like he was covered in this oily, greasy sheen with this nasty old, dirty fry oil smell that wafted off him.

Eric is not like that at all. I think he must be what a cold, snowy winter smells like. Brisk and refreshing.”

“And you trust him?” Gran asked as she poured them both more coffee.

“I have nothing to base this on other than my gut feelin’, but yes I do. If he says he is going to do somethin’, then I believe he would do his best to stand by that.”

Gran nodded and looked thoughtful.

“Do you want me to revoke his invitation?” Sookie asked watching this woman who had believed her when no one else would.

“No, Sookie, no of course not,” she gave her a small smile and patted her hand. “You are like your grandpa in so many ways,” her smile got bigger. “He was never wrong about folks. He either liked you the first time he met you or he did not. There would be times when he would come back from a fire and say we got the fire put out and then we came on home. Or, we got the fire put out and held them while they cried. It would just depend,” she shrugged. “And Sookie I want for you what you want. I know you have said you did not want a husband or a child…maybe…just maybe Mr. Northman can give you wonderful memories. Dinner and then him bringing you home was not a bad place to start.

Not everyone gets to spend a lifetime together. Maybe your happily ever after only lasts a season. So you enjoy those moments that you have and cherish those memories when that person is gone.”

“If nothin’ else, Gran, last night was perfect,” she smiled.

“Good kisser, huh?” Gran grinned at her.

“Yes,” Sookie nodded, looking sheepish but pleased.

“Well then, I look forward to meeting him. I’ll put on something a bit nicer before evening rolls around. My house coat and old slippers are not my best look.”

“Gran,” Sookie began carefully, “we won’t have sex in your house.”

“Sookie,” her voice was soft and gentle. “This is your home, also. And I am of the opinion, that he has the money to take you anywhere you would like to go to be alone and intimate. Dear,” her eyes were pleading, “just not in a car, or out in the woods or anyplace you can be interrupted. Enjoy your time with him. You know, Earl has been gone more years than we were together. I got to be his for twenty years, for the past thirty years all I have had are his memories.”

“I never thought about it that way,” Sookie said.

“M-m,” Gran nodded. “If I had it to do all over again, we would have danced more and worked less. Found time for the sunsets as well as the sunrises.

And your time with Mr. Northman will be even more limited. Just enjoy it Sookie. Don’t question it or read into it anything more than what it means at the moment. If he finds you delightful, he will seek you out and enjoy your company just as you do his.

If I had it do all over again, I would be a lot more selfish about my time with Earl. Set boundaries. Shared fixing Sunday dinners with the rest of his family so that it did not tie up our Sunday, every Sunday. Had date night. Held hands and walked our land and dreamed big.

Dream big, Sookie. Don’t let small minds hold you down.”

“It is just that, Gran. I like being with him. And when it ends and I know it will, it is going to break my heart.”

Adele let out a big sigh. “Some things you just don’t get over. But Sookie, just be grateful you have a heart to break. Your brother Jason could die from a lot of things, but heartbreak is not one of them. How he could grow up to be such a mean, cold, selfish bastard is beyond me. Hoyt said Jason was still in Vegas dealin’ blackjack and chasin’ everythin’ in a skirt. I guess that was his dream. Get into bed with every available female in Renard Parish. Check that off his life list. Now it is to bed every female in Vegas.”

Sookie patted Gran’s hand and they both just shook their heads. “Gran, he’s as asshole. He was never one to take advice unless it was his own.

I am goin’ to take your advice,” she smiled. “Enjoy. Have fun. Don’t look back. Dream big.”

“That’s my girl,” Gran nodded. “Now, you want some more smoked salmon?”



Sookie roamed the house the rest of the morning admiring the flowers and reading Eric’s small but thoughtful and very sweet notes attached to the bouquets.

At eleven thirty there was a knock at the door and the caterer was back and had brought lunch.

“I’m callin’ Lafayette,” Sookie said as she watched the food being set up. “See if anythin’ extra special has come his way.”


“Glad you called, his La La Fineness says” when he picked up his phone. “I was just fixin’ to come your way. There is a big-ass box sittin’ here on my front porch. Note says I am to take it to you and enjoy lunch time nourishments.”

“Come on,” Sookie said. “We are havin’ a cheese tray with about 20 different types of breads to spread it on. And this is the appetizer. Don’t know that I have had a lunchtime appetizer. Also a bottle of wine and some port for dessert. Gran is getting ready to pour. Oh…I just tasted the port. That might not make it to dessert. I am drinkin’ that now!”

“Be right there. I am loading the box right now!”


Lunch had moved out of the kitchen and to the dining room table. As the medium rare prime rib was carved and served Sookie admired the mushrooms and onions that floated in the Au Juis. In the middle of her plate was the cutest little footed scalloped white dish with the fresh horseradish sauce.

“This is me not carin’ how wrong it is,” Lafayette reached for the bottle of port, “but I am toppin’ my hand cut crystal glass with this dragon’s blood one more time.”

“Please Lafayette,” Gran held up her glass. “If you would be so kind.”

“I wonder,” Sookie looked longingly at the box sitting in the living room. “Just what is in there?”

“No ma’am,” Lafayette shook his finger at her. “We agreed to eat lunch first and then open the surprise. We can maybe have dessert while we contemplate what wonderfulness Mr. Northman has bestowed upon us.”

“I would say to hurry up and eat,” Sookie was concentrating on her baked potato, “but this is the fluffiest baked potato I have ever had. And it deserves to be savored.”

“Amen,” Gran said as she added another pat of butter to the perfectly baked Irish gold. “And Amen.”


The Box loomed on in the living room but the three were loath to leave the table. It was lovely to have someone wait on them and suggest wine pairings and bring out one delectable dish after another.

“Coffee and dessert?” the waiter asked. “Or do you prefer espresso or a latte?”

“What’s for dessert?” Sookie asked.

“Chocolate mousse layer cake, chocolate soufflé with fresh fruit and a warm orange sauce and a chocolate lava cake.”

“We get one of each?” Gran asked.

“Of course Madam,” was the reply with a smile.

“I want a latte,” Sookie replied as her plate was removed.

“Me too,” Gran nodded in agreement.

“Make that three,” Lafayette smiled. “And another bottle of port, please.”


When the individual sized servings arrived on small, footed, scalloped plates, with dainty sized forks and spoons, Gran sighed and raising her glass said, “I am going to eat all of them. God bless us everyone!”

“God bless us everyone,” was echoed back as each dessert was tasted and the one they liked the best was eaten first.

When the last of the dishes were cleared away, Joey bowed and said. “It has been our pleasure to serve you today. There are left overs in the fridge along with a soup and breads and a meat tray for sandwiches if you get hungry later tonight. We were instructed to leave the crystal wine stems. A most Merry Christmas to you and yours,” he said with a smile as the staff exited out the kitchen door, leaving the kitchen spanky clean.

“They even mopped the kitchen floor!” Sookie said in awed amazement.

“Grab your dragon’s blood and head on over to the couch,” Lafayette said standing. “It is time to open the box.”

“Is it really after four?” Sookie gasped looking out side. “It is getting dark.”

“Sun goin’ down,” Lafayette nodded, “vampires will be risin’,” he said raising his glass in   salute.

“Hear hear!” Gran echoed. “To Eric Northman.”

“To Eric Northman,” Lafayette and Sookie both replied as they sat down.

They all sat looking at the wardrobe sized box. “Alright now, it says if you pull here,” Sookie said as she yanked on the piece of cardboard, “it should easily open.”

The seam opened all the way across the top of the box and down the side. “It opens like a door,” she said pulling on a piece of ribbon that was now exposed. Inside were three boxes that went from top to bottom.

“Adele Stackhouse,” she said reading the name on the side and pulling it out.

“Lafayette Reynolds,” she smiled at him and handed him a box.

“And this last one is for me,” she grinned as she removed the package. “Just like Christmas mornin’” and you could hear the anticipation in her voice. “Gran, you go first!”

“Oh my,” the older woman said running her hands across the box. “Is this cardboard? It is lovely,” as she slipped the tabs out of the holes and pushed back the lid. Moving the tissue paper, she gasped as she stood up and pulled it out of the box. “Would you just look at this?” she gasped. “It is a mink coat! Oh my goodness! It is a mink coat!”

“Here Gran,” Sookie stood up, “let me help you try it on,” she said, wonder in her voice and also wondering if Gran would keep such an expensive gift!

“I have always wanted a mink coat,” she sighed as she ran her hands up and down the sleeves and then the front. “It is so extravagant and almost a crime to waste money on one,” and Sookie heard Gran catch her breath, “but,” her voice was very low, “but I always wanted one,” she sobbed as she started to cry.

“Mmmhmmm, lovely. Sewed on the diagonal. Gives it some real flow and interest. Very sheik. Here, Gran,” Lafayette sat down beside her and handed her a napkin. “This is just fine. Well and good. It is your turn. La La has decreed it so. Now, you blow your nose and I’ll pour us another round.”

“I’ll pour,” Sookie said reaching for the bottle. “Lafayette, you open your box.”

“I am scared now, Miss Sooks. What if that vampire done peered into my soul and knows what is in my heart of hearts. And if he did, I am not givin’ it back. Just say’n,” he nodded as she filled his glass with port.

“Me neither,” Gran agreed holding up her glass for another round. “I like having my turn.”

Taking a drink he set down the glass and picked up the box.

When he lifted the lid, his hands went inside. Moving the paper his head was shaking back and forth. “He done seen my soul,” was all he could say in a whisper.

“Show us,” Sookie shouted. “Come on…!”

“Oh, it is a coat alright,” you could barely hear his words as he stood and shook it out and put it on. “Complete with hood, or if you flip it around, it is a shawl collar that can fasten on opposite sides of your shoulders to keep it closed.

Do you see, this is very supple black suede for the body of the coat and from the knuckles to the just below the elbows. Then we have from the elbows up to the shoulders, a silk sleeve done in the conjuring colors of swirled orange, black, red and some green. Inside is lined with the same silk as well.”

“I don’t get it,” Sookie said.

“See,” he showed her crossing his arms in front of his body to form an X. “Those colors is for protection at whatever is comin’ at you or being thrown at you. The hood and the front and along the bottom is all trimmed out in black fox and looks to be black feathers. I am guessin’ raven. You would have to be mo fo’n crazy to take on the spirit of the raven and the fox and the earth’s goodness standin’ guard.

Do you see,” he said as he walked and it flowed out behind him.

“Wow!” Sookie’s eyes got big. “You look like a king. Very regal. Very powerful…” and her voice trailed off.

Lafayette smiled, “Now you see me, now you don’t,” as he walked over into a dark corner and flipped up the hood.

“Holy crap,” Sookie yelped.

“Exactly,” Lafayette nodded and coming over sat down. “I am never takin’ this off. Just so you know. This is the part of his La La Fineness that has always been missin’!”

“Me neither,” Gran nodded in agreement. “This great big shawl collar on my coat just pulls right up and fastens.”

“Just about covers your head, Miss Adele,” Lafayette nodded as he helped her with it.

“Now Miss Sookie,” he smiled at her. “Your turn.”

“So, I am guessin’ it is a coat,” she nodded as she placed the box on her lap. “And I think maybe it is a nice coat,” she nodded again as she flipped open the lid. “And,” she said moving aside the paper, “it’s…it’s white…” and there was some hesitation in her voice as she stood up and pulled the coat out with her as she stood.

“Is that velvet on the inside?” Lafayette said leaning over to her. “Lordy, just how soft is that…” his voice trailed off.

“All this white fur trim,” she whispered.

Lafayette stood up and helped her with it on. “White fox with blue velvet lining. Looks like he matched the color of your eyes perfectly. He does mighty fine good work on such short notices,” and his voice held a bit of awe.

“This is incredible…” her voice trailed off as her hands ran along the fur. Pulling up the hood, she walked over to a mirror. “I look like a snowball,” she laughed. “And this is incredibly warm. And beautiful. This goes all the way to the floor, as well. Or pretty close. My gosh, I could spread it out and sleep under it. Actually,” she said looking around her merry, well dressed band of angels, “we all could.”

“Push comes to shove, his La La Fineness says we shall be warm no matter how hard the winter winds blow. And since this is Louisiana, they don’t blow that much.”

“Maybe we are taking a trip,” Gran smiled.

There was a knock at the door. “I guess we are about to find out,” Sookie replied when she went over to open it.

“Please child,” Gran said standing, “allow me.”

Opening the wood door Gran pushed open the screen and extended her hand. “Mr. Northman, I am Adele Stackhouse. Please, won’t you come in.”


Eric took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss. “A pleasure to meet such a fine woman. You grand-daughter and grand son had many kind things to say about you.’

“Oh,” she smiled as she stepped aside. “Sookie and Lafayette are a bit partial, I’ll give you that.”

“Here, let me take you jacket,” she said as he slid out of it. “Please come in and sit down. We just finished the wonderful meal you sent us. We spent the day at the table relaxing and chatting and counting our blessings.

Your name did come up during that time.

And now this, these coats, Mr. Northman, truly, beyond anything I could imagine.”

“Please, call me Eric,” he smiled at her.

“Everyone calls me Adele or Gran,” she smiled at him. “Please do the same.”

“I am glad the coats please you. They are yours to keep, but I come tonight seeking Sookie’s company but also with a job offer. If you would like to be in service to your country, I would be most interested in explaining the particulars to you.”

Sookie stepped over to him. “You look beautiful,” he smiled and gave her a light kiss on the lips.

“I look like a snowball,” she laughed.

“You look like a beautiful snowball,” he said taking her hand and kissing it, they both sat down on the couch.

“This have to do with next door,” Lafayette asked.

“Yes,” Eric nodded. His hand was covering Sookie’s. Oh sweetness, she just placed her other hand on top of his! He was the filling in a Sookie hand sandwich!

“Gran seems to think we just might be travelin’ somewhere,” Lafayette said. “Some place full of Christmas cheer and the kind of cold that seeps into your bones.”

“That would be correct,” Eric nodded. Bringing Sookie’s hand up for another kiss, he took the envelope out of his suit jacket pocket. Opening it, he passed a passport to each one.

“These U.S. government bona fide?” Lafayette’s voice held disbelief.

“Yes,” Eric nodded. “I talked with my contact before I went to ground. Explained to him that I needed to take my team with me. I would not take you intentionally into harm’s way. But you all have a peculiar set of talents that could be useful.

The story is in the telling, please, refill you glasses and let me begin.

This terrorist, he belongs to a bigger cell of fiends and they are old. They are all believed to be Werewolves that went by much more gruesome names. Jack the Ripper, William Carnes, James Whitlock, Sadie Parsons.

Wion, we believe is the Ripper. Carnes, Whitlock and Parsons all stand on their own. Also Weres and we believe a part of this cell of terrorists.

There are Yuletide balls from now until 12th Night. Do to your unique abilities, I would like to recruit you as part of my team so I can track them. You will be paid and given a per diem allowance. All of this will funnel through me because I do not wish for your names to manifest anywhere in the spy community.”

“Spies,” Gran said and elbowed Lafayette, grinning like fox. “Spies. Part of the team defending America from terrorists!”

“Gran, my feet are planted firmly here on planet earth.

What about our jobs?” Sookie asked looking at Eric.

“Unless you so desired, you and Lafayette will be finished at Merlotte’s. Each of you will be paid one-hundred thousand dollars. If we are successful in killing or capturing Wion, there is a million dollar bounty from the U.S. government.

If he really is Jack the Ripper, the English will kick in money as well.

Your cover for leaving Bon Temps at Christmas time is that you three have been saving and planning this for years. Mrs. Stackhouse wishes to write a book about the myths and legends of Louisiana. Many of these started in England and all three of you are going there to do research.

Dragonboat Press will publish your book. Your money will be split into quarterly payments, minus taxes, etc. This money will be placed into your accounts.

Because Dragonboat Press believes so heartily in your project, each of you will receive a fifty thousand dollar advance.

In reality, Miss Adele will be collecting stories and adding her own bits of wisdom and folklore. You two will be jogging her memory of things you have heard.

All three of you will be attending the balls and the parties. Sookie will be listening in for Were noises and Lafayette will be looking for those who have the unsavory dead lingering around them.”

“Are you really going to publish the book?” Gran asked.

“Oh yes,” Eric nodded. “It will be an international best seller.”

“What about Christmas?” Sookie asked.

“We will be staying with a very good friend of mine. His name is Ian and he is the Vampire King of British Isle. His manor house is London is old, drafty and cold. His castle, outside of London, is old and drafty and cold. The coats will be very important.

The meals you had today, this is what your Christmas day will be like. Surrounded by your family and your love for each other. Take your gifts with you to exchange.

If you wish to attend church, Cedric, a very Irish and Catholic lad, also the Vampire King of Eire, will be spending the holidays with his dear friend Ian. They go to midnight mass on the 24th and on the evening of the 25th, Ian has tickets for Handel’s Messiah, being conducted at the Church of St. Bart’s in London.

All clothing will be provided. That includes the costumes for the masked balls.”

“That is a lot to take in,” Lafayette was shaking his head. “And I do mean a lot. So today was about rehearsin’ us. Letting us get a taste of what our Christmas could be like. Nice gifts,” he said stroking the fur on his coat. “Very nice gifts,” he said staring at Eric.

“The Lord of the Majicks vessel,” Eric said pointing to the coat. “I know exactly what that coat is and what, when the vessel is filled with the right person, it is capable of enhancing your powers.”

“Lordy,” Lafayette closed his eyes and shook his head. “My Granny woman used to speak of this….this…” there were tears in his eyes when he opened them. “Vessel. She called this coat a vessel because when worn it contained the one that could call forth blessin’s and rebuke those that crawled out of Hell back into the pit. Your heart has to be pure and your mind righteous.”

“That describes you Lafayette,” Gran said patting his hand. “Perfectly. That is my boy.”

“Oh Gran,” Lafayette started to sob. “That is not me. Not anywhere’s close.”

“Looks real good on you Lafayette,” Sookie said smiling at him. “And it has not grown a face and tried to eat you. So I would say pure and righteous, that describes you. And you look smokin’ hot in that coat…or vessel…or whatever. Just like it was made just for you.”

Snuggling back into it, he wiped at his eyes and sighed. “Well, I am not takin’ it off. No, no sir. Not given’ it back. If it grows a face and eats me…well, I told you so.”

All three of them chuckled.

“Most good,” Eric nodded. “Now for the vampire political bullshit. Please pardon my language, Miss Adele. But I have to say this and Sookie needs to know…and you knowing will help her along with it.

Vampires and Weres have a tremendous sense of smell. Sookie, Lafayette was right when he described you…like a summer’s day of golden goodness all wrapped around a blue sky with white fluffy clouds. That is what you smell like. Innocence and warmth and peace of mind.

I found where Compton and Wion stood just inside the woods and watched your window. They both jerked off.”

“E-uuu,” she drew back and made a face.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Until you all decide, I am just assuming that you are going to London with me. And because of this assumption, Sookie, you will need to not smell like you but smell like me. So at a masked ball no one would recognize you.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “How do you do that?”

“Sex,” he replied. “Your virginal innocence smell would be gone plus, when I hold you, kiss you, it marks you with my scent.

Which is both good and bad. Good, because others would recognize my smell that I had marked you as mine. Bad because others who dislike me would recognize my smell that I had marked you as mine.”

“Mine?” she echoed.

Mine. Could be a deal breaker. No sense in hesitating. He just carried on. “Supernaturals are very possessive.”

“Humans also,” she nodded. “You would not believe the fights that break out in the bar involving the X, current, and want to have lovers. The other night, there was blood and broken teeth. Some girl walked in that no one knew and slugged Cathy Wade with a role of quarters in her fist. Said she was screwin’ Marshall Stills and if Cathy did not stop screwin’ him, next time she would bring her gun ‘cause he was her boyfriend.”

“Stills?” Lafayette looked confused. “The guy that owns the Taste Freeze? He’s married to Wanda.”

“Yes,” Sookie said nodding her head.

“So you see, Eric,” Sookie said knowingly, “Supes are possessive because somewhere there is that human thing still runnin’ around in them. Cat fights in the bar, guys outside rollin’ around in the dirt.”

“And this happens often?” he asked.

“Every night. If not twice, then it is a slow night. Alcohol and folks waintin’ to get laid can just lead to bad things.”

“Speaking of bad things,” Gran looked from Sookie to Eric, “will she be at risk?”

“I will be by her side the entire time. Where we are staying, there is no risk. But believe me, Were shit does happen. I do not say that to scare you off, but you need to know before you commit to such an undertaking. Plus, you will each also have some type of hand gun with silver bullets.”

“Well shoot,” Gran sighed, “you should have said that first thing. All three of us are good shots. Sookie made silver bullets just the other day. A couple hundred. Will we need to take those?”

Eric maybe blinked. “No, those will be provided. Preferably, you will not have to draw your weapon at all. Like I said, I would not place you intentionally in harm’s way.”

“But you are goin’ get the bad guys that wants to start WWIII between the Supernaturals and the Humans,” Sookie was very serious as she watched him.

“Yes,” he nodded. “That is my mission. It could be your mission to accompany me if you accept this assignment. You will need to talk among yourselves. I understand that.”

“I just met you,” Sookie placed her hand on his cheek. “This is a lot of faith and trust to put in someone I have known for twenty-four hours. Of course, the fact you came up with those passports is damned impressive. So you must know someone very high up.”

Eric nodded.

“Very, very high up…” she was looking at him with great expectations.

Smiling, he nodded again.

“Okay I’m in. Gran, we are gonna’ go upstairs to my room and smooch for a while.”

“Leave the door open,” Gran smiled at them both and arched an eyebrow at Eric.

“Yes, ma’am,” her grand-daughter nodded. Taking his hand, they headed up the stairs.

“We are gonna’ be spies!” Adele moved her feet in a quick up and down motion in joy. “And published authors! Published best-selling authors!”

“I could use a drink,” Lafayette said looking crossed eyed and then picking up the bottle of port.

“Gran, how about you?” he asked pointing the bottle at her.

“Pour it,” she grinned. “You got one of those phones that lets you look at anything? Let’s go take a look-see at St. Bart’s church.”


While Lafayette and Adele cruised the internet, they would hear laughter coming from upstairs. Sometimes it was low and throaty and sometimes there were great peals of it, coming from both.

And sometimes, they would both get so tickled, you could hear Eric snorting and Sookie gasping for air.


At around eleven, they were still on the internet looking at the Vampire King of British Isle’s castle when Eric came floating down on his back, his body straight, with Sookie sitting on top of him.

“This is my flying carpet,” she said as they passed by. “I told Eric the story of Jamil, the Flying Carpet. Remember Gran, you read that to me at least once a day when I was little. It was my favorite. And I would always try to make that carpet in your bedroom fly. Well, I got me one now. We are going to the kitchen and I am havin’ a sandwich.”

“You go ahead dear,” Adele smiled at her. “Lafayette and I are looking at King Ian’s castle. It is lovely with all that stained glass. And his library is most impressive. Do you think we could have our evening port in there?” she asked as Eric’s head passed by.

“I believe so,” he nodded. “You would just put a request in with Terrance, his Majordomo and he will see to it,” as Eric’s feet passed by and he and Sookie disappeared into the kitchen.

“I been so worried for her,” Gran said wiping at her eyes. “So worried. My perverted brother! The things she had to listen to before he would molest her. Just sorry I did not kill him myself.”

“He died septic, right?” Lafayette said.

“Yes,” she grinned. “I took that buggy whip to him and opened up his back and a few other places. He was too ashamed to go to the doctor and explain himself there. So something got infected and he went septic and died. Wish I could have been there to listen to him scream when he passed over into Hell.”

“Love you Gran,” Lafayette kissed her on the cheek. “You are a blood thirsty, I will kill you if you fuck with my family kinda woman. I find that very attractive,” he batted his eye lashes at her.

“Thanks Lafayette,” she patted his leg. “Now, you think we can manage a trip to Ireland. Let’s take a look at that vampire king’s castle.”


Dear Readers,

Okay…this was just to be a short story. Please stop laughing. Santa can hear you. (Me, too.)

My intent was to give Sookie a very special Christmas….hubba hubba….WTF?

Christmas is coming on and still no sweet alone time for our E & S duo.

I am hoping to get a very short chapter out before Christmas…involve a little mistletoe and maybe some reindeer games…

And whose idea was it to go wheels up with his La La Fineness! Really, he has a vessel coat?

And where the hell does Eric get all this stuff on such short notice? (I intentionally put just that “one daylight” in there to slow him down…apparently not.)

Once more, it just proves when you are a thousand years old, you know freaking everybody…and if you don’t shame on you!


Dear Readers of the gentle and most excellent and beautiful sex…

Miss Stewart has stepped out for a few moments…as in I glamoured her…

It is I, O.I. King of the Dragons, wishing you a most joyous and bountiful holiday season.

I just stopped by to say…

Mo’ fo’n! Really! She has my big man’s in a Christmas missive and not me!

Well, we fixed that. My big man’s he has got himself a vessel coat…wooooohooooo! His O.I. Fineness is on his way! (And many thanks to those of you who have missed me and asked about me!)

Ho Ho Ho!

As always, thanks for reading about my big man’s and me!

Be blessed and be the blessing out there! We all needs kind words and good ways!

All the best to you and yours!

O.I. and his Big Man’s


P.S. Freaking dragon!

As always, thanks for reading!

Be blessed and be the blessing!

All the best to you and yours this holiday season!


Joyeux Noël Chapter 4



The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries belong to Miss Charlaine Harris. No infringement on my part is intended. The characters on True Blood belong to Mr. Alan Ball. No infringement on my part is intended.

I have no BETA, editor, or other such charming person. All mistakes are my own.

This story is rated M


Joyeux Noël


Chapter 4


Eric’s phone chimed. Ian, give the lad a job and he was on track and back on line. Reading the information, Eric sent back a smiling vampire emoji.

“Oh most excellent,” he mused. “We have an I.D. on the Were. Ian passed the likeness around. Apparently he was a William Legge when he was born. His father was the Earl of Dartmouth. His French nom de plume is Chantel Wion and he is presently a member of the French Foreign Legion.

Ian, better than a blood hound and knows his who begat whom.”

Most excellent. Thanks. Eric sent the text, this time with the smiling vampire wearing shades.

With this information, it was time to go to work and put the world back in good order. Smililng, he composed the message.

Director, the terrorist is a Werewolf. English by birth given the name of William Legge. Now goes by Chantel Wion and is a member of the French Foreign Legion. Accomplice is William Compton, vampire, presently at HRM vampire New Orleans main residence. Hitting send it was a matter of seconds before his phone pinged.

Forever in your debt, came back the reply.


Eric paid the bill and stood looking out the window.

He knew that the Feds were in New Orleans, just waiting on him to make contact with the information. There were several nice things about paying your taxes on time. And perhaps being a thousand year old vampire. From time-to-time, interesting people wanted to talk to you.

When Pamela came in he turned around. “Yes or no?” he asked her.

“Oh-h-h,” she smiled. “I love this game. Now the question is, whose fate do I get to determine? Is it the humans that had their meal here? Does my hand of fate reach out to touch you or me or does my decision touch any number of our vampire community that needs to be destroyed? Hm-m-m-m,” she said, taking a coin out of her purse. “Tails yes, heads no,” she grinned.

Flipping it up into the air Eric reached out and caught it. “Would you like to try that again? Both sides appear to be heads. Or are we just running with no.”

Pam held out her hand for the coin. “How about a hint? After all, it is Christmas,” she said sweetly.

“Well,” he smiled at her, “do we want chaos or complete and utter chaos?”

“What kind of question is that?” she rolled her eyes. “We want complete and utter chaos. Give me another hint.”

“Me as a super hero. Yes or no?”

Pam took a step back and walked around Eric, looking for anything out of place. Hm-m-m-m, not even a hair. He looked fucking perfect.

“I have that bobble-head doll of you as a Viking. I guess I can roll with a bobble-head doll as a super hero. I think you will need some type of cape, though.”

Taking out his phone, he dialed and said, “This is Northman. I need to speak to HRM Sophie-Anne.”

You could hear the snarl from the other end. “Sheriff, this is William Compton. She is presently taking a conference call and cannot be interrupted.”

Eric hung up and then called HRM’s phone.

“Sheriff,” she huffed, “not now.”

“The illegal arms and ammunition that Compton had in his home blew a hole to China when his house caught fire, causing it all to explode and vaporize everything to include the building. Every three letter government agency in the U.S. is looking for him and will start with you, since you are his queen.”

“What?” she screeched.

“I just found out and thought to inform you. The words terrorist and vampire are being linked together. It has yet to make the news. I would start looking respectable.”

His phone went dead.

Pam gleefully pulled out her phone and called the residence. “Cranky my love,” she purred to the old looking and often abused vampire, “how are things in sin city?”

“Mistress of the night,” the ancient looking vampire chuckled, “there are helicopters flying overhead and I can see all types of vehicles pulling up front. Looks like I am going to have a busy night opening doors. Oh, there is much screeching and it looks like Compton was just literally picked up and thrown out into the foyer. That I should live to see such times! I am indeed blessed.”

“Thank you Cranky my lover. The girls and I,” she flashed him her tits, “we will speak more to you later.”

“Crankshaft is invaluable,” Eric said as Pam adjusted her shirt. “Good. The Feds are there. Thursday nights are when HRM has her tribute in gold paid to her. Right before midnight if I remember correctly,” Eric laughed.

“Damn my maker!” Pam was shaking her head as her grin reached across her face.

“I know,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “This will keep her busy for a while. Now, at midnight I must be elsewhere. Is Herveaux here?”

“Yes, I left him waiting at the front desk.”

“Good, please be so kind as to retrieve him at this time. Our words shall be short and to the point. If he has anything to do with this, Shreveport is going to need a new packmaster.”


Alcide followed Northman’s brat into the bowels of Hell. He was getting ready to exchange words with the devil himself and was girding his loins with ideas of tossing the vampire out into the sunlight. “Damn I could use a drink,” he thought as he passed the people sitting in chairs having bar service brought to them while they waited.

A door opened into a hall then a lovely small dining room with a view of the city. Apparently Northman had been entertaining here earlier. He could smell the seafood that still lingered on the air. Taking another whiff, he could smell the male that had dined here. He had heard vampires were not picky about their bed or blood partners. Not that Were were any better. But he was a step above that. After all he was respectable and well thought of in the city of Shreveport. His family had been running through these woods since the early 1800’s. Northman had been here…well…who knew how long but he certainly was not an upstanding citizen.

Eric turned from the window.

“To the point, Herveaux, there has been a Were in my area by the name of Chantel Wion. French Foreign Legion. Arms dealer.”

“What?” the Were stood up straighter.

“Oh, so you have heard of him,” Eric arched an eyebrow.

Alcide growled his discontent. “It was not because I wanted, too. Compton brought him by. Wanted him to meet me. I fucking hate doing business with vamps. Told them both to fuck off.”

“Good for you,” Eric smiled. “All the three letter agencies in the U.S. currently want to meet with him. They stored some very illegal arms in Compton’s hovel. A fire started and cooked off the ammo and vaporized the house. Many are linking vampire to terrorist. I would be just as happy to add Werewolf into that mix as well.”

“Look,” Alcide took a step closer; “I told your queen I would not run guns for her. Then this guy shows up with his shit eating grin and talking about a U-Haul full of gold and how he could use a few more strong holds to store ammo. I told him to go fuck himself and if I ever saw him again in Shreveport, that it was open season.”

There was a bit more to the tirade, all along those same lines. Eric waited for him to finish. The Were was worked up. Good. He had his attention.  “The Feds are at the residence, tonight, looking for terrorists. They are there now, talking to Compton and anyone else they deem of interest. Just so you know, have your alibies in order in case Billy Boy gives you up because

terrorism is such an ugly word and Compton is a coward and will shine that light on everyone to take it off himself. If I were you, I would expect a visit.

The Feds come with warrants and will be tearing apart whatever they deem necessary. I hope all your dynamite is accounted for. I hear Cuba is lovely this time of year. Of course, the orange jumpsuit of Gitmo will do horrible things to your complication. Apparently, this hole where Compton’s family home use to sit is so large you can hear them speaking Mandarin in Beijing.”

“Shit,” Alcide hissed.

“Exactly,” Eric nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

Alcide could not believe that Northman had actually given him a heads-up. And then just like that, he was dismissed. Not that he wanted to stick around. But he did so enjoy having the last word. “I have never eaten here. Heard it was good. Did your boy toy enjoy it?” Alcide grinned.

“He seemed too,” Eric smiled. “Or maybe it was the three thousand dollar bottle of tequila I bought for him,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fucker,” Alcide hissed and turned and walked out.


“Fucker,” Alcide hissed again as he went down the hall. “If a fucking vamp can afford the food here, I think I can as well.” Walking up to the maître d, he handed him a hundred dollar bill. “Get me a table. I am ready to eat.”

Jimmy smiled inwardly. There was no one waiting to be seated. And tables had opened up. Sliding the bill into his breast pocket, he bowed to the gentleman and said, “This way please sir.”


Eric gathered up the packages and made for the stairs. Zip, he was down and exiting out into the food court. Five minutes until midnight. “Damn I’m good,” he chuckled to himself as he started towards Penny’s. Just at that moment, Sookie and Lafayette walked out.

Smiling at them, they walked toward him, chatting about their purchases.

“This door,” Sookie said as she started for the main front doors. “We are parked just down a bit.”


HRM Sophie-Anne watched as an army of Federal and State agents invaded her residence. The fact that she had literally a line of lawyers at the ready did not seem to matter.

Compton was shackled and being questioned. They did not deem her a flight risk so put no chains on her. Sitting quietly, she said nothing and waited for her turn. The U-Haul full of gold had been found. Apparently the message had gotten garbled. Instead of “Flee with the bribe,” they had backed the truck up and announced with pride and much fanfare, “This is your bribe,” to the Federal agents who were securing the perimeter.

Which pleased the agents to no end.


“Joyeux Noël,” Special Agent Stocker sighed as he gaze traveled around what he guessed was the throne room.  Lots of money and no taste came to mind.

“Christmas has come early,” Special Agent in Charge Gruber said to his team. “Take the building down to the studs if no one cooperates. That gold in the U-Haul would have to be secured somewhere. Chances are weapons could be secured in the same places.”

“This is a historic site,” one lawyer complained as he headed toward the agents.

“Yes sir,” one of the agents stepped forward. “But we have no intentions of doing anything to the outside of the building. Of course, if we find explosives that we cannot safely move, we will just blow them in place. And that should take care of this being a historic site.”

Gruber was not going to laugh out loud. This ass hole lawyer was not going to let go. Would you just look at the expression on his face. He was getting ready to open his mouth and put all of them in chains.

“But we are a sovereign nation, you have no rights to enter here,” the asshole stepped up and did not disappoint.

Everything and everyone in the throne room, stopped. Human and vampire law enforcement agents looked carefully around the room and at everyone in it.

“Really?” The SAC (Special Agent in Charge), replied as a silent but powerful message flashed through the team.

“Sovereign nation,” one agent snickered out loud which broke the tension in the room.

“Business as usual,” the SAC said. “Bring in the dogs. We’ll start with them. Everyone look at your blueprint of this fine, old, historic site and see what has been modified.”

HRM watched as movement began and the attention was off her lawyer team.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sophie-Anne mouthed when the agent had stepped aside. Her lawyers read that message. Good.

From their blue prints they knew how big the room was supposed to be. Out came some sort of electronic something that they shot at the wall.

“Missing three feet off that back wall,” she heard as more equipment was brought in.

With growing panic, she watched her residence become her very worst nightmare!


Alcide was contemplating dessert when his phone chimed. “What’s up Scottie?” he asked.

“Boss, there are a couple of van loads of what looks like FBI agents here at the warehouse. They have warrants and everything. I told them I did not have the key to the pyro safe. That was all you.”

“Fuck…” he hissed. “You can let them in to look around but tell them I am on my way.”

“Will do, Boss,” he said with a sigh of relief.


When Alcide arrived there were vans and agents, everywhere.

“Herveaux,” he said approaching a group of men. “My night watchman Scottie said you had warrants. What can I help you with?”

“We want to check your dynamite against the manufacturer’s manifest and ask you a few questions before we take your warehouse apart.”

Nodding, he took out his keys and went to his office. Opening the safe, he stood aside and let the agents take out the documents and pyro.

“Checks out,” a man in a navy blue windbreaker with FBI in large letters printed on the back stood up.

“Give me a minute,” the man in charge said to his men. When they left, he turned to Herveaux. “I am Special Agent in Charge Seader. Tell me what you know about Chantel Wion. If I like what you have to say, your staff won’t spend the next several days putting this place back together.”

Alcide nodded. That fucking Northman…he owed him something, he was just sure what!

“Wion stopped by here about two weeks ago. Had a trunk full of gold and wanted to know if I was interested in making some easy money. I told him no. Did not want to know what he was selling and I especially did not want to know him. To take his shit and get out.”

“You know a man by the name of Terrance T-Rex Tumbler out of New Orleans?”

“Yes,” Alcide nodded. “He is a builder. Inherited the business from his daddy just like I did.”

“Nathan Rice? Baton Rouge. Also a builder. Also inherited the business from his daddy. Also,” he said in an all knowing voice, “has a woman with expensive taste.”

Well fuck…Alcide took a breath. Looked like that French asshole had made the packmaster rounds.

“You don’t want to end up like them. They are in jail. We found what Wion was selling stashed in their warehouses. They both said they did it because their wives liked nice things and they wanted their beloved to have a Joyeux Noël.

I understand that you have a lady friend that is a junkie. Full fledged and always looking for a high. That you have been working evenings and weekends to keep her in drugs. I do so hope that you are not ever driven to make the kind of deals Mr. Tumbler or Mr. Rice did because of your undying love for your woman. Rehab would be a lot cheaper and easier on both of you. A trunk full of gold has got to look very tempting. But jail time can be a bitch. Especially on the nights of a full moon.”

Alcide blinked.

“Good, I see I have your attention. Now, are you storing any type of munitions for anyone?”

“No sir,” he responded slowly and carefully. “God’s truth. I swear on my Daddy’s grave.”

“Good,” he nodded. “I am glad to hear that. Your father was a good man and served our country faithfully. He was a real tribute to the Special Forces beret that he wore. I would hate to see his son jailed as a terrorist.”

“My father was never in the Army,” Alcide responded.

“Of course he was,” Seader replied. “I was his handler.”

“What?” he said, sounding shocked.

“He was a young man, kid actually, right out of high school. Tough as they came. Not that I was much older.

Don’t look so dazed, son,” Phillip Seader patted him on the shoulder. “Vampires and Werewolves have been volunteering their services since WWII. Hitler was one evil bastard and needed to be stopped.”

“No fooling,” Alcide whispered.

“No fooling,” the SAC responded. “Keep your nose clean. And either clean up Miss Pelt or move her out. She is bad news waiting to happen.

Joyeux Noël to you and yours,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Joyeux Noël,” he mumbled in reply as he stood there in shock and watched the older man gather up his team and leave.


It was ten minutes to the house. Not much time to think but he knew it was enough. When he walked in, Debbie was smoking a joint.

“How many does that make today?” he asked.

“What?” she smiled at him and slipped her fingers into her cleavage.

“I said what else have you had today?” he growled.

“This is the first,” she smiled sweetly. “You were late so I thought I would take the edge off. You know, Alcide, sex with you is what I really need.”

“You willing to go to rehab?” he asked. “I will pay.”

“Fuck no,” she laughed. “Why would I do that?”

“Then tomorrow I am moving you back home to you momma and daddy.”

“No you won’t,” she grinned. “Because nobody sucks your dick like I do. Come over here and let me show you. I mean,” she purred, “just how terrible can Debbie be when she has a mouth full of you?”

If he hauled her out, who knew when the next time was that could happen. Probably not this weekend because he would be cleaning up after her and not able to hook up with anyone else. “Well, one more time,” he grinned. Walking over to her he pulled her down onto the floor on her knees. Sitting down he unzipped and pulled her mouth up to him.

“Suck it,” he said, pushing her head down, “and I’ll let you sleep inside the house tonight.”

“M-m-m,” she said licking her lips.

He felt her heat and her moist mouth and then he remembered why he let her stay. Because no body did this like her! When he felt her teeth, he knew it was too late! Biting his penis off, she jumped up and began dancing around with it still in her mouth.

Screaming, he lunged for her and fell on the floor, grabbing his crotch.

Debbie grinned when she picked up her phone and dialed for help. She was pretty sure, as she stared at the phone that the magic numbers were 911.

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully, “or is that 411…no, that is for information…yes…911…” she giggled. “Or 0…can you still dail 0?

My boyfriend is dickless,” she said when 911 picked up. “I bit it off because he was going to throw me out. I like living here. Can you come get him so I can live here?”



Eric was driving with Sookie sitting next to him in the middle of the bench seat with Lafayette next to the passenger door. They were telling stories…whoppers, Sookie had taken to calling them and Eric could not remember the last time he had laughed so hard…or felt so good.

Miss Stackhouse was most delightful. And lovely. And kind. And smart and tough. She was a survivor. All those things he had admired in a woman when he had been human.   It was all he could do not to put his arm around her and pull her in next to him as tight as he could. To feel her warmth that radiated out of her body and seeped into his cold flesh was intoxicating. After he was turned, that was the one thing he had never adjusted, too. Always being cold. And no matter what he did, no matter how hot the bath, he was still cold.

But with her sitting next to him…it was like being out in the warm summer sunshine after swimming in the ocean. His skin would warm up first until the sun baked him down to his core!

Smiling, he listened and began his own naughty game. “Closer,” he would whisper in his mind. “Closer to me,” and he took secret delight as he imagined her body doing just that. Moving next to him. Taking his hand. Her looking at him like she could not wait until they were alone. Their hands entwined. Her fingers soft as the stroked the palm of his hand.

Until they pulled up into the front of Lafayette’s house, in his mind, she caressed his hand and rubbed her head against his arm and shoulder. He pretended that she had found just as much peace and contentment in him as he had in her.


When the Volvo stopped they all got out and Sookie and Lafayette went to the trunk and started sorting through bags.

“I only had five bags, Lafayette,” Sookie laughed out loud. “The rest of these are yours.”

“Lordy,” he whistled, “you sure Miss Sooks? I did not think his La La Fineness was that much of a shoppin’ fiend!”

“Really?” she chortled. “I saw you tryin’ on hats. Those look like hat boxes. Just how many hats did you buy?”

“Don’t you be sassin’ me about my head gear,” he shook his finger at her. “You know the Health Department rules. Gots to wear a head coverin’, whether you be bald and beautiful or nots. These are for my career in the cheffin’ biz,” he said grinning at her.

“Don’t try them as a tax write off,” she laughed. “I saw that one sailor hat covered in sequins. I don’t think you bought that to wear to make your Lafayette burgers. Do love that red glitter lipstick you bought to match it, though, and that eye shadow.”

Batting his eyelashes, Lafayette struck a pose. “That is for Joyeux Noël.”

“Well, Gran expects you to be sittin’ down at her table sometime during the day. So you save us a hour or two as you go about blessin’ the countryside with your Rudolf the Red ways.”

“Lafayette, please, allow me to help you with your packages,” Eric offered. “And I have included the bottle of tequila left over from dinner. It is in one of your bags.

Sookie, why don’t you warm up your car and I will be right back.”

“Oh, good idea,” she nodded her head and picking up her bags headed toward her car.

Walking up the small incline, they both stood on the front porch as Lafayette took from Eric his keys and opened the door.

“Did you really not see any dead people lingering around me?” Eric asked the Medium.

“Not a one,” Lafayette replied. “I see you as a weapon, sharp as a razor’s edge honed with the oil of righteousness. No one blames you for their death and many have sought you out to seek their own release. Nothin’ wrong with that on your part. Plenty wrong on theirs.”

“I do not mean to insult you, Lafayette, but as a rule, I pay for information.

Rest well this evening,” he said, placing the bags down outside the door.

“May your day slumber be peaceful as well,” Lafayette replied as he watched the big blond walk over to the small yellow car and somehow, fit himself inside the driver’s door and put the car in gear.

Sookie waved to him as they drove off.

Gathering up his packages, he got everything onto his couch and began going through his treasures. Tucked into a bag was a tie box. Which was interesting because he had not purchased a tie. Opening the box, he moved aside the tissue and there was a check for five thousand dollars.

“Lordy,” he felt the tears spring up as he thought about what needed to be done with the money. “Well alright then,” he wiped at his eyes. “Miss Thang,” he thought about his momma in that home. The doctor had added another medication he could not afford. Well, he could now. “We is gonna have us a Joyeux Noël.”


It is interestin’ watchin’ Eric drive my car. Honestly, I did not think he would fit behind the wheel, but just like everythin’ else he does, he looks very fluid doin’ it.

I like the quiet he brings to my head and I like the conversation. He is smart, well read, and funny. And I am sure he would not admit it, but he is also kind.

And made to order…

…Welcome to the Christmas season, Joyeux Noël! I believe in Santa. Yes I do. Several folks at the bar know that and that is just another reason they call me Crazy Sookie.

Every year I write Santa a letter. I still do and I burn it in the fireplace. I know Santa gets the message as the letter is then carried on the wind.

When I turned twenty-five, my letter to Santa changed up a bit. I started writtin’ to him about the perfect man. One that liked me for me. One that I could not read. One that did not mind that I was a waitress in a redneck bar and grill. One that saw past the flaws of everyday livin’ and could see the soul livin’ in your eyes.

A man that I could respect and would respect me.

Gran raised me with values. And I have tried to hold true to those things that make me a better person and I am the first to admit some days are easier than others.

And I am grateful for my small life right here under this roof.

But sometimes, when I crawl into bed at night, I now wonder what it would be like to have someone to hold me. Kiss me goodnight. Make love to me just because…and never have to worry about gettin’ pregnant.

But I am pushin’ thirty and have seen and heard enough of life that I know folks can grow apart and marriages fail.

My letter this year was a bit different. I ask Santa for a man I could love, not a husband. Maybe my lover is not a man at all, maybe he is a vampire.


“I could have driven me home,” Sookie smiled at him. “I know you must have someplace important to be.”

“I am someplace important,” he looked over at her.

“Oh stop it,” she laughed. “You know it is not nice to make fun of crazy people.”

Eric pulled over on the side of the road. “Sookie, I understand about you not sharing your gift. No,” he held up his hand. “I understand how you feel about it. That it is a curse and not a gift. I can see how this could be. But I also think, that if we…and I do mean you and I…are very careful, you could make some money.”

“Oh,” she shook her head. “You mean running around in the cesspools of peoples minds. Eric, those are some places you just don’t want to hang out. I mean it…ick!”

“I can understand that,” he nodded. “I have had dealings with those cesspools. But if I offered you a job, would you think about it?”

Shrugging she regarded him. “I don’t know. Maybe. That is all I can give you for now.”

“Excellent,” he grinned as he pulled back onto the road. “That is not a no and we shall proceed very carefully. I am under the impression that there is a job coming up and I will be called. It is out of town. You would be most useful. If anyone asked, I would just tell them that you are my day walker/assistant…” the air became very heavy as the silence now filled the car and trailed behind them like a condensation stream from a jet.

“What?” she said looking at him. “You sorta left me danglin’ there. Would I not do for the job?”

“Well, that is complicated,” he remarked. “Oh look, your Gran left the light on. And I smell coffee and perhaps something chocolate.”

“Yes and you are changin’ the subject,” she shook her finger at him. “We are just gonna’ sit in this car and talk this out. You entice me with a prospect of a job and now you are backin’ away.”

“Miss Stackhouse,” his voice was sincere, “anytime you are seen with me, you are in a certain amount of danger. There are more people who dislike me than those that do. And this job would be, I think, a continuation of tracing the source of this Werewolf. He is an arms dealer and there is just inherent danger with saying those words.

If I can work an angle where I know you are safe, we will revisit this.”

“I have never been out of Louisiana,” she said. “This Werewolf is from France. Are you talkin’ France?” he could hear the excitement in her voice. “I don’t have a passport,” she said thoughtfully. “But I could get one,” and the excitement was back.

“I have to be contacted first,” he said as he got out and came around to open her door. “Then,” he helped her out, “we will work the particulars. Now, let us get your things out of the back. The temperature had dropped and the clouds are moving back in. I smell rain. Let us get inside before we get wet.”

As they went up the steps she took out her keys. “Should I invite you in?” she asked him as she unlocked the door and they placed her things inside.

“I would be honored, but with all this new information, my phone has been vibrating all evening. There are certain people I must talk to before I go to my day rest. One or two of these conversations shall be rift with hysteria. The fissures left in the atmosphere from all the screeching will probably be the undoing of the ozone layer.”

Sookie grinned at him. “Speaking of undoing, there was a bit of time there in the car, I could feel you tugging on me…I think…” she nodded thoughtfully. “There was once or twice I thought the very best idea ever was just to wrap myself around you and just drive.”

Eric grinned. “Well maybe that was me. I was having this wonderful fantasy that we were more than casual acquaintances.” His look turned pensive as his eyes searched hers.

“I like you Sookie Stackhouse. I like everything about you. Especially your no nonsense attitude. Your sense of humor. The fact that you have read every Tolstoy book that was translated into English. That you care for the peace and goodwill of all and did not stop calling until you made contact with me.

I would like to see you again. And not just as business associates.”

The sweetest expression covered her face, giving him hope. “What?” he asked her, the smile on his lips lighting up his eyes.

“Do you believe in Santa Claus?” she asked him quietly, her eyes holding his.

“I do not not believe in him,” was his answer. “I am a vampire,” he shrugged. “I do not know what does and does not exist in this vastness that surrounds us.”

“Would you laugh at me for believin’ in Santa?” she asked.

He put his hand under her chin. “I would never mock your belief system,” he replied, his voice earnest. “I have seen and experienced things I cannot explain.”

Nodding her head, she tip-toed up and putting a hand on either side of his face, kissed him lightly on the lips. “When I was younger, I would ask Santa for a husband and a happily ever after. I got to thinkin’ that was a pretty big responsibility to put on him and probably a nigh unto impossible. Because I certainly have days that I am nigh unto impossible to live with. So this year I just asked Santa for a lover that would respect me,” she said rubbing her nose against his in bunny kisses.

A low groan vibrated out from him as his hands went to her arms. Moving up until he caressed her collarbones and then sliding back down as the outside of his hands touched her breasts, then slid past the curve of her waist. His hands were now resting on hers on the top of her thighs. “Invite me in,” Eric’s voice was full of passion as his hands slid around to her butt and holding her there, picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Eric won’t you please come in,” she moaned as he placed kisses all along her neckline.

They stepped inside and Sookie heard the door lock and then there was a breeze and they were in her bedroom. She was glad she had left her bedside lamp on. The passion in him was palatable! The air was thick with want: his, hers, theirs! He was magnificent in the glow of her bedroom light!

“Your Gran is asleep,” he said as she unwrapped herself from around him. “No sex tonight, but I want to kiss you properly,” he whispered, helping her out of her coat. Stripping off his jacket, he picked her up and placed her on the bed, his long, lean body slipping into place on top of hers as his mouth sought hers out. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, her warmth radiated out into him!

“Oh-h-h-h,” he groaned as he felt the warmth spread as he swallowed and it flowed out into his body cavity straight for his groin!

“Fucking Were shit!” was screeched from his crotch. “Eric, what have you done!” was shouted in glee. “I am warm!” was shouted in joyous rapture and then there was sobbing. “Warm, I am warm again. What miracle of life is this?”

“What…what was that?” Sookie asked pulling back from the kiss. “Who was that?”

Placing one more kiss on her lips, Eric rolled off of her and sat up. “I told you I had magic,” he said.

Sookie nodded.

“That was my penis, King Eric. He expresses his opinion at the most embarrassing times.”

“Does…does other vampires’ genitals speak?” she said eyeing his crotch.

“No,” he shook his head. “Just mine. So it stands to reason this is part of my grandmother’s magic that interacts with my vampire.”

“Is he sobbing?” she asked, bending her head closer.

Eric pulled up a pillow and covered his lap.

“I believe he is, much to my embarrassment. He has said plenty of things at the wrong time to get me slapped and have the lady walk off, but I have never known him to break down and sob.”

“Is…is he sad,” her voice was soft and low, “because you are with me and not some…some…”

“No,” Eric picked up her hand and placed kisses all over it. “This is his version of the Hallelujah Chorus. He is overwhelmed at what just happened.”

“You kissing me…?” her voice hesitated.

“That was lovely,” he smiled at her and leaned in for another kiss. “But…” he sat back. “The thing I miss most about being human was being warm. The warmth from the sunshine, the warmth you could feel from the fire. And especially the warmth of my body.

That is still the hardest thing for me about being vampire. Is that my body is always cold. Driving here tonight, I could feel the heat from your body and it was like when you pour warmed syrup onto pancakes. It cascades down the lovely golden stack and out to the side of the plate. I could feel your heat as it ran along the side of my leg. I thought maybe…you know, I was imagining that and that is when I started pushing my will at you to pull you in closer. To see if I could feel more of your heat.

Just now, when I kissed you deep I felt the warmth from your tongue and I swallowed and I could feel your heat,” he traced along his throat, down his chest, “until it stopped at my crotch. Apparently King Eric could feel the heat as well and that is when he reacted. I have never thought about it, but he has been cold for a thousand years as well.”

“Huh,” she stared at him. “You don’t register cold to me.”

“Well thank you,” he bowed his head. “I guess I should be going,” he grinned. “King Eric will want to be introduced once he gets over the shock of being warm, again. And I just don’t think it would be appropriate at this time.”

Nodding her head, she leaned in and kissed him again. “I like kissing you,” she rubbed her nose against his.

“M-m-m-m,” he purred as he nuzzled her neck and his hand slipped inside her shirt and thumbed her nipple through her bra.
There was a sharp intake of air from her as her body started to tremble. Pulling back, his eyes were smoldering although he was grinning. “Just a little something to remember me by. Now, you have two males and a female on the front porch getting coffee. Good they are now walking away.”

“I’ll let you out the kitchen door,” she smiled and steadied herself.

“Good plan,” he replied pulling her up off the bed and she climbed onto his back and they were down the stairs and standing in the kitchen.

“The world as we knew it is in an uproar,” he grinned. “I will see you tomorrow night. I’ll call you when I rise and give you a time when I can be by. If everything goes right, the next several evenings should be cleared of all vampire business.”

“Thanks,” she said nodding her head and reaching up to kiss him.

“What?” he pulled back.

“This was the perfect evening. I mean that, seriously. And if I never see you again, I will always have this memory. And I just wanted to thank you for that,” she said, her eyes starting to tear up.

“Oh my very dear Miss Stackhouse,” he smiled and kissed her on the nose. “I have not even begun to court you,” he said with a bow. “You will receive several boxes during the day. Just follow the directions. With any type of luck, I will see you with the new dark,” he said pulling her up and onto him!

His kiss roared through her body wanting more!

Stepping back there was an evil grin on his face. “When you get back into bed and play with yourself, just think of my hands touching you there.”

Poof, he was gone.

Sookie closed the kitchen door, closed her eyes and then leaned against it. “Lordy…!” she gasped. Then she stood up straight. “What am I doin’ standin’ here when I could be in bed thinkin’ about Eric?”

Once outside and searching, Eric had no trouble finding the place where the Were and Compton had stood and looked up at her window. Both of them had even jerked off. The smell still lingered despite the rain. “Hard to wash away that dead corruption smell,” he growled low and throaty. “Dead fuckers!”

Listening for movement in the house, Sookie was back upstairs. Good! The grin was back! She had just turned off her light. Listening very closely, he could hear her moaning his name.

“That’s right,” he pushed at her. “Pinch you nipple, tease it, now put your fingers on your clit. Yes, yes, yes, yes,” he thrust his pelvis at the window. “Now a bit harder and faster. Keep pinching the nipple, now the other.”

“Eric!” he heard whispered on the wind.

“Harder,” he moaned with her. “Harder…”

Hearing her sharp intake of breath followed by his name, her smell carried on the wind. She was ripe! And she wanted him! That thought carried its own consequence for him. He steadied his body when King Eric pushed one last time against his pants and he exploded, his cum pulsating to the beat of her ragged breathing.

A peace settled over the house and over him as well. And with it came the rain. It was time to get back to the office and get to work.