Banner The Curse of the Eclipsing Blood Moon

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.


The Curse of the Eclipsing Blood Moon





Sookie slept, not dreaming and not moving. When she woke late in the afternoon, she was in the same position she had been in when she laid down.

Getting dressed, she went downstairs and was greeted in the kitchen by three cooks and a ten-pound bag of millet and ten pounds of honey and comb.

“What are we doin’?” she asked as Lafayette added more millet to the blender and then pulverized it to flour.

“We have been experimentin’. Try that stack of pancakes, there. My Little Man’s done toasted the grains. Makes for a heartier loaf with it mixed in with the flour.”

Sookie spoon-cut herself a pat of butter and spread it around and then spooned on some honey.

“Not bad,” she said with enthusiasm. “You know, if you did them thin like crepes and filled them with comb and some coconut, that could be a real nice thing to eat.”

“Not so very bad with some sautéed apples with cinnamon,” Gran said. “We have been experimenting. Apple butter. O.I. did not care for the peach flavored yogurt and we even tried banana and peanut butter. All of it was good.”

“So this is what I need to make?” she smiled, spooning on some more honey and taking another bite.

“This is it,” Gran said. “Now what about the mead?”

“Eric has that. Some his mother made and it is delicious.”

“Lordy, thousand year old meads…sounds like a tasty treat!” O.I. replied as he flipped over the next flat bread.

“Oh, that one looks good,” Sookie smiled as she peered over O.I.’s shoulder.”

“Put some oatmeal and other hearty breakfast grains in it for Gran. Gonna’s keep her heart healthy. No reason why it cannot be delicious while doin’ so.”

“Well okay then, good-bye to those bran bagels we have  been choking down and hello to a better way to clean you out! You guys can coach me through this and we’ll have our part done. I wonder what it would be like to soak one of those in honey? Then layer it in whatever we want. Coconut comes to mind!”

“Let’s do that nexts, His La La Fineness says. How cans it be wrong?”




All  the vampires were up and moving. All of them forgone dinner and were sitting in Samuel’s library, looking at Eric’s mock-up and admiring the air-pistols and other things that looked dangerous.

“My gawd, I have not shot a pistol since…well, I don’t know, ever,” Attila said as he held one in his hands.

“Seriously,” Vlad eyed the one he was holding. “We are much faster than this.”

“Yes,” Samuel smiled at them, “but with the tin projectile, you don’t have to be fast. You maybe don’t even need to be accurate. As long as you don’t hit one of the humans in the eye, you can just fire at anything.”

“Should we send them in with eye protection?” Madame Vedo asked.

“Well, we could, I guess,” Eric shrugged.  “But I just don’t see any humans, besides the Druid and the Wynd Ryder, going in with us. They talk a good game of standing with us, but I don’t think the crowd that was at the club the other night is going to find that once it all starts to go to hell, they are going to scatter like fall leaves in an autumn tornado. They will run over each other in the mad hustle to get out of there.

Cacius was actually funny. That he and his were there to protect the stones. They care not for anything else, not like they will care for their own hides.”

“Have certainly seen enough of that type through the ages,” Samuel nodded in agreement.

“We have been admiring your mock up Eric,” Willy said as he slowly turned the henge, around. “So what is the plan to lock it? Don’t get me wrong, you sponsor the best wars ever.

But I would like on occasion to visit with you and not have to spill any blood.”

“Well,” Eric began slowly, “it goes something like this…”


All of them sat there with their mouths open.
“Mother of God,” Vedo crossed herself. “A virgin on the altar and after tasting the mead, you did not puke!”

“Yes,” Eric nodded  his head. “Not the most romantic of situations.

And I am going to have her spit all over the bread.”

Samuel stood up and walked over to his desk. Shoving everything off onto the floor he began. “We are going to need some oatmeal or some sort of grain from the kitchen. And  water.

Clifford, if you would please,” Samuel called out. “Oatmeal and a bottle of water.

Eric, Madame, if you would please, gather here on top of the desk.  This shall be our stone altar.

Gentlemen, find a position around them and above them. With a sword in one hand and the pistol in the other, let’s see what type of damage we can do to my ceiling.

Eric, tell us one more time the sequence of events.

“During the battle, on the altar stone, pour out the mead, spread out the millet seed and then sacrifice yourself on the altar and smear the blood.

Remember, he will need to drink the mead, eat the millet bread and taste the blood.”  Eric recited.

“So we can’t pre-stage these things on the altar,” Siggy replied, as he hovered above Eric and Vedo.

“That is correct.  They have to appear on the stairs so they will already be pouring out  and the fighting started.”

“Hey Sig,” Attila looked up. “Sorry my friend, but that just does not look right. Trade out places with me and you guard them from down here.”

“He’s right,” Samuel nodded in agreement. “As the oldest and the fastest, I should be the one on top. Whatever gets through me, should go to the next layer who would be the next oldest and so on down to the altar. So sort yourself out according to age and let’s fill in.”

“Eric, what about O.I.?” Pam asked.

“Yes, our friend is the oldest and has found himself a Wynd Ryder. He will be playing by his own set of rules. But before the fight, we will rehearse him with what we get worked out and see where he wants to be positioned.

Now, given these parameters, it is going to be a bit tricky to get all this done without interruption. So let’s give it a go, shall we.

For the time being, Pamela, you be the bad guy that has slithered down to the altar. And let’s try not to damage each other, please.”



Clifford, Samuel’s Majordomo came and went. “Not the oatmeal,” he said after regarding the  mess. “I believe we have some grits. I’ll bring that.”


“Sun up is a couple of hours out,” Eric said looking at his friends. “Madame Vedo you have been most courageous.”

“Thank you,” she replied, eyeing the group.“Eric, the only way this is going to work is if the Druid sits on top of you. This frees up both of your hands. She has her job and Eric you have yours.

The best way to do this  looks like if you are both nude on bottom and she has wrapped her legs around your waist. She spreads the mead, the millet and then you hop up onto the altar and break her. She  then smears the blood while you drink and eat and then taste the blood off her fingers.

As we have demonstrated, clothes on both of you are going to get in the way. You both could have something short sleeved on top, but you would not want any loose clothing that would get in your way and  slow you both  down. I’ll devise something that can just be ripped off.”

“Would a tin fence across the stairs slow them down and buy us some time?” Ian asked. “The stairs appear right before the eclipse, and that would give us time to get them into position.”

“My gawd, British Isle, you are a pretty face and a brain,” Vlad whistled.

Everyone blew him a kiss and winked at him, doing rude and vulgar things with their hands and asking if he dated and did he kiss on a first date.

When the group settled down, Eric was grinning when he said, “Worth a try.”

“On that,” Samuel responded and picked up his phone and started punching in what was needed.

“Thank you all, so much,” Eric smiled at his friends. “Hopefully, this is the last time.”

Clifford came in. “The tin sand has arrived. We have enough tonnage to sprinkle, everywhere. The henge will be covered in it.

If his royal highness, O.I., wishes to toss it into the air and ignite it with his flame, and blow it onto the enemy, so much the better.”

“Clifford, you are so very good to us,” Vedo bowed to him.

“Yes, Madame,” he bowed in return, “I pride myself on that.

Now, shall we need the RV someplace close by?”

“What?” the vampires all turned and looked at  the magicked human that ran Samuel’s empire during the day…well…correction…all of the time.

“I understand that this is a very delicate matter. And the lady will be…perhaps…dry…which makes penetration difficult…” he cleared his throat, frowned and turned to Madame Vedo. “Apologies my lady, that is vulgar male locker-room talk.

I just thought perhaps,” he turned his attention on Eric, “perhaps a little smooching before-hand would help things along.  And she could get a little more comfortable with the nudity. And the RV is a step up from the back seat of an auto.”

“Good thought,” Samuel nodded. “Clifford, you are due some time off. Name when. You just cannot take an entire year at one time. You know what happened the last time you did that.”

“Of course, Mr. Samuel,” he bowed and left.

“What happened the last time he left for a year?” Cedric asked.

“It was August 14th, 2003, 4:10 P.M.,” Samuel sighed.

“The grid failure that took out the Northeast, parts of the Mid-west and parts of Canada?” British Isle replied in a shocked voice.

“That would be the event,” Samuel grimaced. “Clifford was in *The Islands and I was in my day slumber. August, you know, is still heavy sunshine territory and when I rose at nine, well, there we were.

The timing was most unfortunate. It happened at ten minutes past tea-time. Watson was the tea mum that day and was pouring, when our generators kicked on. There was the scurry from the table, cups overturned, savory landing on the floor…the computer system to boot. Watson is a good man, he is Clifford’s second-in-command and was doing his best to keep up but he just did not have Clifford’s intimate knowledge of the system.

An oversight on my part which has since been corrected.”

“Hear, hear!” they all shouted. “To Clifford and Watson!”

Samuel regarded the group. They were good friends. Trusted champions. A rowdy bunch and he loved them all. But there was one he loved more. Time to get down to business. “We have a couple of hours. I trust you all to rest well during your day slumber.”

“Have we been dismissed?” Attila hooted.

“Unless you want to sit with my in sack-cloth and ashes while I say my prayers,” Samuel grinned.

“Oh, well, tally-ho then!” British Isle called out getting up.

“Indeed,” Cedric stood and bowed. “Rest well this day, gentlemen.”

Saying their goodbyes and well wishes, they were all out the door.

When they were gone, Eric remained.

“My brother,” Samul smiled at him.  “What are you doing here, I thought you would…”

Eric rose and went to the fireplace. “Have one last hurrah before I possibly meet the true death and never have another one? This should be obvious,” he smiled at this being that had brought him back from the brink of destruction more than once. “I am going to sit vigilance with you, my brother,” as he began smearing the ashes on his head. “So have Clifford bring me out a hair shirt as well.”



Sophie-Anne, the vampire queen of Louisiana, was fuming!  “What do you mean that our henge will be closed for business the night of the eclipsing blood moon. I paid a fortune to have that erected and I want my photo op with it!” she yelled and threw things at Compton.

“I am sure that is all doable my Queen. There is just word on the street, my Queen,” he said as he lay prostrate on the floor. “That there is some terrible evil that is going to make its way through and devour all of us if it is not stopped.

The witches’ coven Silver Tide has been tracking this disturbance.”

“Will they be in attendance?” she asked.

“No, they will not. They do not know how to fight this evil that will descend and devour. They are hunkering down, Saint Not-Here said. Layering their spells and drinking potions that will keep them off the radar of this evil that will consume us.”

“Can we tear it down?” she asked.

“My Queen, this was built  to rival Stonehenge in all its glory. You can hire Weres to go in and take it out, but it took a week to erect. We don’t have that kind of time.”

“So, let’s get out of this time zone. Call my plane. The residence is going on holiday…to…to…my holiday home in New Zealand. Make this happen. Now.

Send out the prepared message stating with this: We are going on vacation. I will be back next week. Until then, William, you are in charge.”

“You…you are leaving me behind my Queen?” he sobbed.

“Get over yourself Bill. This is your one chance to get something right. You get everything taken care of before the helicopter departs, and you can be on-board. If not, you continue on to fight-the-good-fight. And when all is locked down here, come the new dark, you can at least haul ass out of Louisiana.”

By the time Compton stood up, there was only the fluttering of some papers in the breeze of fleeing vampires. The helicopter was on the roof, and they were outbound.

“If I can defeat what is in the stone henge,” he sobbed as he hit the red alert panic button and watched the Weres move into place and begin locking doors. “I will be a hero. If not, I will be dead,” he sobbed. “I am going to be dead,” he boo-hoo’d in earnest.

“Or maybe not,” he wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. Taking out his phone, he called The Sheriff of Area Five.


Eric felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. It was coming from the Queen’s residence.  Samuel had just finished the last Psalm and was finishing with a hallelujah.

When Samuel looked over at him and smiled, Eric knew everything was going to be alright.

Hitting talk, he said, “Northman.”

“Sheriff,” Bill began. “There is going to be an attack on the stone henge that the Queen had built in New Orleans. You are required to be here the night of the eclipsing blood moon and shut it all down.”

Eric did his best not to laugh. Compton’s voice was shaking. Their fearless leader had  hauled ass and left Bill in charge.  This was hilarious!  Time to have some fun!

“Bill, she may have contributed to have it built, which I doubt, but she did not pay to have it built. Put her majesty on,” Eric replied.

He could not lie about this. Eric would just call her himself. “She is not here. She has taken her staff  and has left me in charge. So I am, in fact, ipso facto, King. You may call me King Bill.”

“No, Bill,” Eric managed to keep a straight face. “You are ipso facto, Queen. You are not replacing a king so therefore you are not a king. It is like for like. So you are Queen Bill,” Eric stressed again.

“Oh,” Bill took a step back. Eric had just called him Queen! “Well, I am in charge and her last order was to call you and have you here to fight this…whatever it is.”

“Can do,” Eric replied. “I will bring a few of my friends.  We’ll be there, Queen Bill, never fear. Do you want us to check in with you, first, and escort you over?”

“What?” he gasped. “Well no. I am watching the eclipse with the King of Mississippi. I have been invited to join our Queen, there. It shall be a blessed event.”

“Oh, well what a good time,” Eric smiled, despite himself.  “I believe Russell has built for himself a henge as well.

Now, you must promise me you will not tell him this, but, this will give you the opportunity  to strip naked and dance under the moon and be blessed by….”

Bill was overcome by joy! He had heard about the royals depraved moon celebrations from some Were guards but thought it was just all made up! To make him feel less while they knew more!  “By a moon goddess and her…her…”

“Unicorn,” Eric added for him. “The males that  dance in the circle are called her Unicorns. So you would be a Queen and a Unicorn. That is a powerful combination.”

“I knew that,” Bill countered with indignation.  “I am just so overwrought at the thought of being in attendance. What a blessing to me!”

“I can understand that,” Eric grinned. “It is not every day you get to strip naked, attach the horn and fuck a rock. I do so hope Russell had the tall ones installed. I heard that he did, but it is only a rumor.

The short ones are not a bad ride, of which I am familiar,  but when you bend over like that, you become vulnerable. And you cannot refuse the moon goddess or her Unicorn if they want to ride.”

“You mean they can fuck me in the ass?” he asked aghast.

“All part of being Queen, Bill,” Eric assured him. “All of it an honor. Gives you certain bragging rights. I know I pull mine out from time-to-time whenever I get around royalty. Especially those in the Californias. They are really not as special as they think they are.”

“Yes, well, I will be sure to include it in my resume.”

“Good thinking,” Eric replied and made a face at Samuel. “Queen Bill, rest well this day and see what you can do about finding your own unicorn horn.

The ones the moon goddess provides, they are not much. And you want to have the last useable horn. That way all must bow to you and you can have your pick of whatever looks the most inviting.

Until another time, Queen Bill. Out here,” Eric said and hung up.

Samuel was sadly shaking his head at Eric.

“Something so easy should just be wrong,” Eric grinned at Samuel.

“Oy vey,” Samuel replied and eyed the cold fireplace. “I think I should just climb in and cover myself.”

“Samuel,” Eric was chuckling, “your God has a sense of humor. After all, he made me.”

“Oy vey,” Samuel was laughing despite himself. “You have a valid point in there somewhere.”

“I have one more stop I have to make. Do you think Clifford has retired yet for the evening?”

“Oh, I am sure he is still up. You are in residence, he does not want to miss out on any of the fun.”

“I will see you with the new dark,” Eric hugged his brother.

Going down the hall, Eric went into Clifford’s office and found him  going over his list for sundries.

“Mr. Eric,” he said looking up, his half glasses perched on his nose. “Do you require something?” he asked standing.

“No, please sit,” Eric pulled out a chair. “I am in need of some information and I know you deal in it.”

“Why sir…” he began.

“Don’t sir me, Clifford,” Eric responded rolling his eyes. “Too many years between us. And I know you trade O.I. storage spacefor his fermenting alcohol for interesting tid-bits of info. Now, you name your price. Ask me for anything.

dragon liqueorDeath from above in barrels

But I need to know the Druid’s name that was at the club.”

“You mean the Late Druid’s name?” he grinned back.

“That fucking O.I.,” Eric snorted. “Yes,” he closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands, “that would be the one,” he said with a sigh and gave Clifford that boyish grin he was famous for.

“Hm-m-m-m,” Clifford patted his cheek. “If only I was a sweet young thing instead of an old crusty male who has seen it all and had to pull your ass out of it all, literally, sometimes. That  winter night in Paris come to mind.”

Eric snorted again, this time with laughter. “’Tis true, sir,” Eric gave him a bow, “I would not be here today if it were not for you and your quick thinking. A stake through the back of the heart works just as well as one through the front. Nicely played, sir.

Now, I desire to be a gentleman and not refer to the sacrifice on the altar as the Late Druid. What I can possibly do for you?”

“She is fearless, is she not, sir,” he said gently.

“She is,” Eric nodded.  “And commands our respect.”

“Good, respect. I am glad you led with that.

Sookie,” he said with a sigh. “Her name is Sookie. O.I. did not know her last name.”

“Sookie,” Eric repeated gently. “It suits her.”

“O.I. also gave me her Druid name.”

“How so?” Eric asked.

Clifford shrugged and laughed. “You know O.I. He has his old and ancient ways and is a charming rascal. He says she is called The Lady of the Light.”

“That suits her as well,” Eric said nodding. “What do I owe you?”

“Just consider yourself in my debt,” Clifford grinned.

“I fucking hate that,” Eric replied, arching both eyebrows.  “And I will agree to that but you cannot,” he stressed, “use that to pay off your debts to The Child. Past, present or future.”

“Well rats,” he replied with a grin. “Then I ask that you treat her like the lady she is, at all times.”

Eric paused. “Is there a time when I would not treat her like a lady?” he asked.

“I have seen your egoistical maniac, Mr. Eric, and your boorish and ill-mannered ways. Also, the way you pander to your child with her sometimes boorish and ill-mannered ways. At these times you are no credit to your mother or grandmother  when you act in such a fashion and are insufferable.”

“Point well taken,” he nodded. “If I might be so bold to ask, what is going on?”

“I just got off the phone with O.I. and he reminded me that she is indeed, a descendent of the other Druids.”

Eric stared at Clifford and then closed his eyes. “Oh fucking Were shit…she is also a telepath.”

Opening them, he sadly shook his head. “O-o-o-o-o Clifford,” his voice held sorrow. “Fuck! If her brain does not survive this, then she will be well taken care of. I promise you this.”

“Good,” he nodded. “And I am prepared to make some sort of stipend to her gran. They live together and they both depend on each other’s work habits to keep them on their land.”

“Their land?” Eric asked, curiosity in his voice.

“Yes, they do not fall under landed gentry, but what   considerable acreage they have must have the taxes paid.”

“Thank you,” Eric said with a bow of his head.

“You are most welcome, sir,” Clifford replied. “Now, sunrise is coming. You have a meal waiting for you in your suite.”

Eric made a face. “If you would not mind giving me a few moments and then escorting her out. This will not take long. I am just looking for a meal and not companionship.”

“Most excellent sir. I will be up in five minutes.”


As Eric went up the stairs, he made the phone call. “Sophie-Anne,” he smiled when he said her name.

She hated it when he did that but there was nothing for her to do about it. After all, if push came to shove, he would defend his acreage and leave her to fight the war on her own. It just sucked that she did not own him!

“Eric,” she put a smile in her voice which made him grin even bigger.

“My queen, I just received a phone call from Queen Bill. I am sure he is on the phone right now talking to Edgington. Russell will know that you are gone, left a pile of Were shit in charge, and  think you are ripe for a take-over.”

“Queen Bill?” she snarked.

“I may have had something to do with that,” Eric chuckled. “Long story short. He wanted me to call him king and I said I would call him queen.

I am also to be in attendance of the stone circle the night of the eclipsing blood moon. Yes, you heard correctly I am to battle the evil that is coming through that portal.

This is not a problem. Myself and my crew will be there. We will do our best to shut this down. We have been successful in the past, I am hoping our luck still holds.

So a friendly heads up, you are going to be hearing from Edgington. I would not overtly bullshit him or he will be living in your residence when you return. Out here.”




Bill sat back and grinned. “That was easy! That bastard Northman will take the brunt of this and I am Queen Bill! A royal at last! Good on me! And somewhere in Mississippi there is a henge I can dance in! I am calling Russell! How can Mississippi tell me no when I know  the secret handshake and have the horn of the unicorn? I am a Queen! I am a Unicorn! I will fuck stones until my true love is only left to embrace and I shall be the best lover ever!”

Taking out S-A’s work phone, he dialed the number.

“Queen Sophie-Anne,” he heard Russell say. “What a pleasure to have your company this evening.”

“No, Russell, Sophie-Anne is on vacation. This is Queen Bill Compton. I understand that you shall be celebrating with other royals in your  henge on the night of the eclipsing blood moon. I would delight to be in attendance. I can bring my own unicorn horn. No need for the moon goddess to supply me with one. After all, I want to be able to fuck all the rocks and still be the one standing and able to pick my own lover for the night.”

“It’s locked down,” a guard stuck his head into the chamber. “Are you leaving or staying? We are getting ready to lock the front door and shoot to kill.”

Bill frowned at the guard who interrupted him.

“I am on the phone.”

“Staying or leaving?” the guard asked again.

“One moment please Russell.

Oh, I am leaving,” he turned to the two Weres.  “And you may address me as Queen Bill.

Now, Russell, as I was saying…hello…hello…?”

“Heads up,” the Were squawked his radio. “Queen Bill is getting ready to leave the building. After he is gone, any movement, shoot to kill.”


Russell ended the call and stood staring at his phone. Talbot came and put his arm around him. “What?” he asked.

“Did you have a stone henge built?” he asked, taking his lover’s hand and kissing it.

“What?” Talbot said again, this time with a bit of hysteria in his voice. “You know what happened the last time we passed through one of those. It was dreadful. I swear, that Seid cursed me and to this day I still have a fat ass!”

“My dearest,” Russell winked at him. “Your ass is perfect and Sophie-Anne is on vacation and has left Compton in charge.”

Talbot shrieked, “You mean her main ass kisser? The local boy who has not a brain in his body! Why would she do that?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do we want to know?” Talbot asked, suspicion now in his voice.

“Not from that pile of Were shit,” Russell replied. Pushing a number into his phone, Sophie-Anne picked up.

“Russell, how delightful,” she began.

“Cut the salutations,” he drawled out. “Where are you and why is Compton in charge?”

“The word is out that my staff and I are going to New Zealand  for a few days to get away from all the electronic chatter. But we are actually just off lurking in the shadows. I have a traitor inside my residence.”

“And you left Compton in charge?” In his voice was disbelief.

“Yes,” she replied. “If anyone from within is going to try a coup, now would be the time. And The Sheriff of Area Five is keeping an eye on things while I am observing. He will also handle it if anyone tries anything from outside. He is boots on the ground, geared up for war.

I shall be back in a couple of days if this does not ferret out the rat. But in the meantime, what do you think about re-opening the gold mine in the Superstition Mountains?”

“We were told that there was no more gold in that mine?” Russell responded, thinking about the possibilities.

“Well, not without blasting,” she chuckled.

“The state will not allow us to do that,” he replied.

“Well, who says they have to know?” There was silence on the phone while he thought about that.

Congratulating herself, they had just switched topics and Russell was going to think she was lurking in Phoenix and doing some business without him. Pulling up their joint ownership of the mine on her laptop, she was ready to talk some trash.

When they hung up, Talbot was sitting next to him on the couch. “They have a stone henge in N.O. Why would Compton want to come here?”

“He seemed to think this was going to be party central. Other royals would be in attendance, he said.

And that he could bring his own unicorn horn…I have no idea what that means,” Russell shrugged. “And pick his lover for the rest of the evening.”

Talbot looked thoughtful. “Is this some new game we know nothing about? Is that what those lower than Were shit Californias kings were talking and snickering about? Should we,” he gasped, “be entertaining on that blood moon? I am always the last one to know,” he pouted. “It is because I keep myself boxed up here, doing the best I can by you and the house and the fucking grounds! Those roses and those little pests that give them the wilt. I spend all my time fighting that instead of keeping up with the newest,” he said, dabbing at his eyes. “The things I do for you so you will be proud of our home and of me,” he sobbed.

“That is why no one comes to visit. They are all off playing this henge game,” he broke, crying in earnest, “and we are not invited because we are country bumpkins. Just white trash from the poor South, not good enough…” the tears were streaming down his face, “…not good enough to be in the know and have to be informed by the likes of a Were shit bottom feeder Compton…just what the fuck! They think we are lower than Were shit…” his crying was in earnest, with his head on Russell’s chest.  Bloody tears covering his face and Russel’s shirt. “Even that bitch Sophie-Anne has a henge. And we are not invited…to her game night…!” came out in a low, disparaging wail.

“Right,” he continued on, sobbing,  “like she has left Compton behind so that she can find a traitor. Ha! She is in the Californias, doing unspeakable things under that moon!”

Russell held Talbot while he cried out his anguish. After all the tears had been shed, Russell took Talbot’s face in his hands. “Do you want a henge?” he asked.

Letting out a long, suffering sigh, he shook his head, no. “It would just be that much more embarrassing when we invited royalty to play and they could not attend because of other engagements, elsewhere,” he pouted.

“Do you want to go back to The Continent?” Russell asked him.

“Sometimes I think I do,” he replied, laying his head in Russell’s lap.

“We really would be no-body’s,” Russell smiled at him.

“You are the Crown Prince of Hungry-Burg,” Talbot sat up, shock in his voice. “Don’t you dare disparage yourself in such a way!”

“Well,” Russell stroked Talbot’s hair. “If and when you decide you want one, we will go shopping in the Isles for one. None of this local rock for us, my love.”

“Really?” Talbot looked up at him, love in his eyes. “Truly. We could have one brought in?”

“Anything you want,” Russell replied, bending down and licking the blood off his face. “For you, the world. I am so proud of what you have accomplished, here, my love. Our home is beautiful. And I know that is because of you.  All I do is track mud in on your clean floors. And they are a lovely black and white marble checkerboard. And you did that. Turned this abandoned hovel into a home, the place where you keep my heart. I do not know what I would do without you.”

“Thank you,” Talbot sighed. “Thank you. You know I worry…”

“Sh-h-h-h, now. You feel like looking on line at some henges?”

“Thank you,” he whispered. “That…that would mean a lot to me.”

“All I want is your happiness, my love. Now, let us shop around and see what we like.”

“I don’t want anything like Stonehenge,” Talbot said, righting himself. “That is like what they put up in N.O. That is just too vulgar for words or polite company. We want something that says tasteful and refined. And perhaps worthy of a moonlight picnic and then dance.”

“Something charming,” Russell nodded, “well, let’s begin in Wales.”






That morning when Sookie woke, she had a revelation of the powerful sort.

“All of this is gonna’ happen fast. I tried putting my fingers into my vagina before I fell asleep and when you are dry, that is not pleasant or easy. And I need to trim my nails. As in cut then down to nothin’. We will be goin’ for broke. Oh ha ha…

I wonder if Eric would be okay with a little smoochin’ before hand?” Thinking on that thought, she felt herself begin to heat up and get wet. “Woof,” she sighed as she thought about yesterday.

“I am glad Lafayette and I rehearsed this. My clothes get in the way. And we both need our hands so this will have to be front-to-front. I will have to adjust whatever Druid thing takes form on me.

Practicin’ with a bottle of water and grits outside on a table helped put all of this in perspective. This is gonna’ take some co-ordination and some practice. We need to be in N.O. before the sun goes down.  That will give us at least five hours to rehearse this. Eric is gonna have to get us to the top of that altar after I pour out this stuff.  I am believing he can do it.”






Please Note:  *Mr. Clifford vacations on Sentinel Island in the Bay of Bengal.  Apparently, he is not without his own personal charms. He joined Brother Samuel’s household right after the outbreak of the American Revolution. Before then, he had journeyed with the British Navy as a youngster to various and interesting parts of the world.