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.

It was a nice evening. A bit of a breeze. Moon peeking out. All of it equated to the makings of a lovely spring time evening.

And they had company. Sookie sat on the couch and listened to her Gran and Mr. Compton make pleasant exchanges. Both of them very gracious in their speech and in their mannerisms.   Her gran was a lady and Mr. Compton seemed to be a gentleman…but then, he was a vampire so she was not for sure if he was the real deal of the South or just blowing smoke like white trash. He was certainly charming enough and he spoke of her Civil War ancestors like he had just stopped by yesterday and chatted with them.

Yes, the Stackhouses and the Comptons had been neighbors back in the day but her folk were just poor dirt farmers. Scraping by. He would have been landed gentry and she knew that the Comptons had owned slaves. Would he really have stopped by to chat? With all her might, she could not get the visual on that.

This was her first encounter with a vampire. He had moved into his family homestead, The Old Compton Place, which was just across the graveyard. The last time she had walked that way the house looked like it needed to be bulldozed…or torched. It had been rundown since she could remember and Gran had warned her to stay away from the place. “It looks like it could fall down on top of you,” Gran would say anytime it was was mentioned.

And then, last week, their new neighbor had stopped by, knocked on their door and introduced himself. And with him he brought along the proper protocols of inviting-in and entertaining a vampire.

And Gran had been inviting him in every night since. Tonight they were sitting together on the couch as Gran went through the names that were recorded in the family Bible and Bill told her all about their great-greats. Sookie had heard all the stories. One Uncle dressed like a woman to keep from going to war and one cousin sold tainted meat to the South and was hanged for his efforts.

What she found most curious was that Bill did not reference Great-great granny Martha. The Mrs. of that time that would have at least known of him if they were all so buddy buddy like he suggested. But not one word about her. Curious.

In the family Bible, there was recorded that she gave birth to a son who had black hair and blue eyes. The child died when he was three. Great detail had been written about her other children. Even those that had died at birth. Her hopes and dreams for them and been recorded and that her greatest comfort came from knowing they now rested in the bosom of Jesus, along with her adoring husband. But there had been no such comforting words written about Josiah. Just his date of birth, death, and hair and eye coloring. Most curious!

Sookie had plastered on her crazy smile and was sipping her ice tea. Rape was common place, Southern gentleman or no. Just which Compton, she wondered, had forced himself on Martha Stackhouse…the father or the son.

“Sookie,” she heard Gran call her from her silent assessment of their new neighbor. “It is going on nine. You told Sam you would be there to help him close out.”

“Yes, thanks Gran,” she smiled at her. “Mr. Compton,” she said smiling and giving a slight bow of her head as she grabbed her purse and headed out the door.


Every night for the next two weeks Bill, she had been instructed to call him, came-a-callin’. Gran was taking more time with her appearance and Bill was callin’ her darlin’ and bringing her flowers.

Not that she did not wish her gran romance, she just wished it was with Old Man Whitlock. He had been taking Gran to the Glorious Dead meetings and squiring her to church for years. Dropping off a piece of venison during hunting season and fish when he went out in his boat. Coming to dinner. Jed Whitlock sat at the bar, tonight, eating a burger and talking with Sam about roofing problems.

They were busy earlier tonight at the bar and things had tapered off, a bit. That biker group was still here but keeping the peace as it looked like they were getting ready to check out.   As she passed through the kitchen she stopped by Lafayette and asked, “Do you know anythin’ about vampires?”

“Now Miss Sooks,” he turned the burger, “why would you evers be askin’ a question like that? You gots a hankerin’ for dead meat?”

“Neatly sidestepped,” she replied as she lifted the fry basket out of the grease. “So I take it that you know a little somethin’ more than the general public.”

“Enough to knows that you needs to keep your pretty blonde parts out of they fanged ways of persuasion. Cause that shit gets ugly in a hurries,” he shook his finger at her.

“Can I buy you a beer later?” she asked, “I need someone to talk, too.”

Lafayette stood, his hand on his hip, and slowly looked her up and down. “What the fucks, Miss Sooks?”

“Please,” she whispered.

“La La’s place, after work,” he arched his eyebrow at her. “We can talks the down and dirty and trade secrets.”

“Thanks,” she smiled as she took the burger and fries and headed back out to the floor.

Sookie wiped down the last table and met Lafayette at the door. Driving over to his place gave her time to think. She was going to say things out loud that she would not have considered in her finer, less Crazy Sookie moments.

Opening the door for her, they both went in and she sat down. Lafayette poured them both a shot of tequila.

“Drinky and lets talky,” he said as they clicked their glasses together.

Sookie explained what was going on out at the Old Stackhouse Farmhouse.

“Lafayette, I just don’t know. I want Gran to be happy, but this little boy, Josiah, keeps rollin’ around in my head. Now maybe Gran Martha was head-over-heals in love with the landed gentry. Or maybe not. But for some reason, Josiah was not…” her voice trailed off.

“He was not favored…,” Lafayette said as he poured them both another shot. “Like maybe she was ashamed. Or apprehensive about leaving his history. Or both. Coulds be he was a loves child, or a child of rape. But he was sures enough another mouth to feeds and to help work the farm.”

“That’s pretty brutal,” she replied.

“Twas brutal times, Miss Sooks,” he replied. “Does it say hows he died?”

“No,” she shook her head.   “But the war was over and the men folk were comin’ home.”

“Could be that baby boy was murdereds,” Lafayette countered.

Sookie thought about that. “Not by his Momma,” was all she could say.

“Tru dat,” he replied as he refilled their glasses. “Maybe his daddy showed ups and saw his sin brought to life.”

“Who would kill a child?” she asked.

“Different and uglier times, Miss Sooks. They not only owned slaves, but their wives and childrens as well.

So, let’s talk vamps,” he drained his glass and refilled it again. “And perhaps one Mr. Bill Compton in particular. They is a private bunch but I hears this and that’s. Is it true, don’t knows. But La La will dish what he hears. Cause Gran, she could be in some serious six-foot-deep shit and be draggin’ your ass into blood lettin’ and fang smackin’ along with hers.”

Lafayette started speaking and Sookie was at times, lost in the moment. “Stoker must have known himself one back in the day,” he nodded his head. “Cause most of his shit is righteous. Aversion to daylight, yes. They can and do suck yous blood. Dry if they is hungry or pissed or just being a vamp. Blood is their only noushiments and suches. Some vamps is old, some not so old and we is their main source of amusements. Tru Blood,” he rolled his eyes. “Not when there is a human for the snackin’. And some blood is better than other. They likes it super charged. Fear is good. Nasty assed sex is better. The neck is good, but the femoral artery on the inside of yous leg, next to yous sex is even better.”

“Oh,” was all she said as she got the visual of Bill doing that to Gran. “Do you think…?” her voice trailed off. “Bill and Gran…?”

Shrugging he poured another round. “Probably,” was all he said. “He likes it, she likes it and so it goes,” his voice was even.

“Do they have super powers?” she asked. “Dracula could change to a wolf and a bat and influence Mina over a great distance.”

“Don’t be knowin’s about dat,” he countered. “And some shit is just better left in the grave. Along with who gave yous this briefin’, in case someone asks.”

“Got it,” she nodded. “I hear this and that and this is where I got my info from. No one will know it came from you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Here,” he tossed her a blanket. “Get yous beauties rest on the couch. The Lord of the Blue Agave has done turned your eyes to sleep time. Day light is comin’ on.

Night sugar,” he smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead as she lay down, fixed her covers and was asleep.

“Lordy,” he shook his head. “La La needs some garlic and rock salt and the blessin’ of the Holiest of Waters,” as he took his very fine ass to bed. “Gots to get me some Rive Jordan liquids where my man Jesus was knowns to tread. Best be ordin’ that first thang afore I am off to nighty-nights.”

Josiah Stackhouse stood at the head of the couch and lightly ran his little boy fingers through the hair that looked like sunshine that spilled all over the pillow! It lit up the night! Just like when the rain ran down the window with the lamplight making it shine and sparkle! “Momma,” he whispered in her ear, “Momma I love you.”

“Sweet boy,” Sookie smiled in her sleep. “Come rest with me,” as she pulled back the blanket and made room for him. “I love you,” she kissed his forehead when he was next to her, with his arms around her neck. “Now mornin’ is comin’ on. Momma will fix your favorite breakfast and then we’ll wash up and pick flowers for the table. It will be so pretty. Lilacs are blooming and the roses have never looked so lovely.”

“So pretty,” he echoed as he kissed her again and closed his eyes and went to sleep.


When Sookie woke up, there was a rose on the coffee table. Lifting it to her nose, she inhaled and let the fragrance dance over her. Lafayette had left her a note, saying he had been called out of town for the day. His momma had some things she needed.


Sookie folded the blanket, plumped the pillow, and taking the rose with her, locked the door and thoughtfully made her way to her car. Lafayette had given her plenty to think about. All the way on the drive home, she wondered if it would do any good to talk to Gran. Probably not, especially if they were having sex, but maybe it was worth a shot.

Pulling up, she shut off the engine and got out. No one home. She tried not to listen in to Gran but there was not even static coming from the house.

No need to hurry. She had time. Good. Walking over to cemetery, she found Martha’s grave and next to it, Josiah’s. Placing the rose on top of his tombstone, she carefully ran her fingers through his engraved name. “Rest well, Little Man,” she said softly. “You are home now. No one can hurt you.

You as well Momma Martha,” she kissed her fingertips and lovingly placed them on the tombstone. “You are home and safe.”

Walking back, she stopped to admire the old lilac bush that was almost as tall as their house. “Love those,” she smiled as she inhaled deeply. Going in through the back, she saw the note on the table. Sookie, have gone to New Orleans to look for Benjamin Stackhouse’s grave. Bill thought it might be there. He heard rumors that this is where our cross-dressing war-dodging relative took himself. Home by Friday. Love Gran.

“Well alright then,” she sighed. “But on the bright side, I do have the house to myself and I am off tonight. I see a pedicure in my future.”

It was a good day! She mowed the yard. Weeded the front flowerbed and then picked an armful of lilacs to put in several vases around the house!

Then a bath, she curled her hair and then sat down to do her toes. “Out on the porch would be the nicest place to do them,” she looked longingly at the front porch. “But the mosquitoes are bad and who knows where Bill Compton is. Maybe I had just best stay put.”

As the sun started going down, she grew restless. Going from window to window, she made sure they were all locked and then she did something Gran never did. She turned on the air conditioner and then took out her shotgun from the hall closet. “Through the heart, Lafayette said,” as she loaded it and pumped it. Normally she would watch X-Files re-runs. But not tonight. She was looking for Buffy.

“Sookie,” she heard Gran calling her name. “Sookie, I am home early and I forgot my key. Let me in.”

“Gran,” she got up and went to the door. Turning on the porch light, she could see her and not hear her. Not even static. And she was covered in dirt…and…and…

“Gran,” she took a step back.

“Invite me in Sookie,” she smiled at her. “I need a shower. I got to digging around in that old cemetery and I got a little dirt on me. Now come along, invite me in.”

“No,” she shook her head as she took another step back.

“You bitch,” she screeched. “You open this door and your invite me in or I’ll torch the house with you in it!”

“Now child,” and Sookie heard an oily voice slither out of the night. “We want Sookie alive, well, undamaged, and intact,” he stressed. “New Orleans will have it no other way,” his voice was most serious. “So we shall not be ending her days nor shall we be licking the blood of her maidenhead. And we need this house to live in. We shall not be living in the old family place. It would take a lot of money to put it back to rights. No need to do that. Not when you have this nice house just waitin’ for us. Now Sookie,” he peered into her eyes, “do as your gran says and invite her in.”

“No fucking way,” her voice was low and dangerous as she slammed the door. With her back to the wall in the living room, she picked up her shotgun and sat watching the two of them through the windows on the front porch.

It was not much longer before she heard pounding on the front door and Gran screaming her name accompanied by all manner of filth and just what she was going to do to her when she got inside.

The hours ticked slowly by. The noise had been non-stop! When the clock chimed midnight, Sookie decided she had had enough. Going to the front door, she opened it. Gran’s fangs were down and a light glowed from her eyes. “Bout fuckin’ time you little cu…”

Ka-plow! The shotgun tore through the screen and into Gran.

“Must have missed her heart and I blew the hell out of the screen door,” Sookie sighed as she closed the wood door and a whole new stream of foul words started. But not directed at her this time.

Going back to her place on the wall, she reloaded and sat and waited. It was quiet…good. Had they left…maybe…maybe not. Not that she would be sleeping.

If it goes to shit, Lafayette had told her, there is that vamp bar in Shreveport. Take your ass there.   Don’t yous be goin’ through the front. Try the back doors first! Pound on it and asks to speak to Eric Northman. He is tall, blond, and as handsome and vampish as theys come.   In the vamp world, he is somebody and keeps the local vamps from drainin’ everythin’ human. This is just what I has heards and that is all I knows cause I has never seen hims.

When the sun came up, she had a few phone calls to make and then she had to get her ass to Fangtasia and wait for the sun to go down. “Licking the blood of my maidenhead,” she shuddered. “Just what the fuck?”



Dear Readers,

The holidays are over. Back to editing….sigh…oh well, a short story to keep my thoughts otherwise occupied.

As always, thanks for reading!