She’s A Brick House: Chapter 5—Epilogue

She’s a Brick House   Chapter 5   Epilogue

 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.

 “Yes,” E. Witch looked up from her drunken haze, missing her magic the most at times like these. Love…fools!   “He really does love her. And she him,” she sighed as her head came up from the bar and with teary eyes watched the two do the dance of the forlorn. “He wants what he wants and she is so determined to have what she wants and who believes that love deserves a chance and a half?” she hiccupped.

“In a land without fear,

In a land of the Were,

They wi­­­ll be scoffed and mocked and laughingly cheered.

At one time, I could get behind that,” tequila fumes wafted up from her mouth. Eyeing the flickering candle, she drew back a bit. That flame looked like it wanted to lean in just a bit more and set off the gases that were hovering around her. Burned at the bar instead of at the stake…she thought not as she repositioned herself.

“Damn, I loved being evil. I loved everything about it. But mostly I loved putting on blush with the pulled off wings of just hatched hundred year butterflies and picking my teeth with the beak of a baby humming-bird.” Sniffling, she was lost in the moment of her memories.   The thunder, the lightning, the storm that shook you to the bone and scared all things that dwelled inside her doors while she would ride the night and scream her discontent to the warring sky. “Damn, I’m maudlin,” she hiccupped. “Soon I’ll start crying over what was and I’ll get all self-pitying and over emotional and…” dabbing at her eyes, she started to weep. “Stop it,” she sighed as she put her finger into the shot glass and pulled out the last of the best drink she had ever licked past her lips. Once upon a time, she had been something to be feared, rocks thrown at, the evil eye sign a matter of pride to her when it was cast her way or painted on her door. Now she was just anyone’s drinking buddy. And apparently she drank today with one who was responsible as she watched Mrs. Pigg mop the floor and clean the bannister.

“Why me?” she sobbed as the belch moved from her belly and up her throat and into her mouth where she once more savored the magic elixir that had calmed her nerves and brought to the surface in bold letters the fact that she was fucked. “They should be lovers,” she thought as she listened to their voices echo with the thunder. “And if I still had my powers, I would deny them their love as they battled to overcome all the putrid gossip and untruths that would puddle before them. At each step, they would wake and know failure lurked in the cesspool of their relationship and that what they thought was tenderness was just a word used to judge a cut of meat. The Were and the oldest daughter,” she smiled, “they intrigue me. And perhaps, I have enough residual maliciousness left that I can still be malevolent!

What is needed here is a spell,

Evil pounding where their hearts do dwell.

Something to tell of their love and their might and their need.

But without all the spark and the fire in their hearts,

Corruption of the flesh vibrating out of the orgasm that bleeds!”

E.’s voice trailed off as she closed her eyes again and thought about the long walk home.

“I miss my broom,

I miss my spells,

I miss my magic lore.

I miss my strength,

I miss my mystical link,

I miss the millennia when evil was all that I wore…

There is a reason they call me E. Witch,” she sighed as her fog filled eyes opened part way and she burped an earlier round of tequila. “Evil…Evil…Evil…a name I deserved and it was worthy.

Barkeep…” she began and then sat up straighter, her eyes now focusing on what dazzled amongst the stains, wet spots, and maybe an ant or two that ran amuck on the top of the bar. “Well, would you just look at that,” she giggled as she pushed her finger through the glitter on the bar that pulsed with the beat of the lightning. Sparked with the roll of the thunder. Absorbed the pulse of all that sat in the room. “Someone lost their magic…and I found it!”

Picking up a straw, she put it in one nostril, closed the other off with her index finger and was up out of her seat and sniffing in the goodness of a scale’s weight of lost, uncut, one hundred percent pure recycled magic! Her toes grew longer as the magic started at her feet, moving upward as it lengthened her legs. Her vagina grew tight and exquisite as the goodness swirled there and then began its ascent toward her upper body! “Ack-k!” screeched out as her bosom inflated and then the sparkle was racing down her arms, lengthening her fingers and wrapping her wrists in chains and jewels and bracelets! Then the enchantment shot back up and out under her armpits and into her neck where she felt jewelry form around her neck as the sparkle then infused her face and tingled all the way out to the ends of her hair, which now hung down her back to the floor!  Damn! Was that a crown of some sort of the top of her head? What the fuck was she wearing? It was gossamer, spun starlight edged with the glow of the moon that dappled her proud, thrust out breasts and lily white throat; her skin was no longer coarse and brittle, peeling like cheap paint after the first winter’s freeze. Now it felt like silk so soft that had been washed in the tears of the Rain Fae, who was, she realized, working overtime tonight!

“Woo-hoo!” she pumped her arm in the air that shimmered with thousands of lights reflected from the jewels wrapped around her youthful, bare flesh. She was back in the biz!

Wait one…she shook herself all over as the tequila dissipated and was replaced by the nectar of honey suckle and the first morning’s dew. Just whose biz was she back in? “Not the evil biz”, that thought clawed its way past the visions of fields of strawberries ripe and heady in the summer sun and laughing waterfalls as she felt her rosy cheeks flush at the thought of the happiness that surround the two lovers who were now sitting on the settee by the fire.

“Oh dear,” the smile covered her lips while outwardly she sighed, her breath calming the air currents as the storm brokered the last of its discontent as starlight began to filter through the clouds, painting love knots and hearts as shadows on the ground.   Knowing that this was hers alone to correct, her path was clear. “Those two need a fairy godmother.”

“No,” Pam choked out, her eyes wide, her head shaking no! “No they don’t. Honestly Samuel,” she dabbed at her eyes. “Just leave them to their baser, bestial instincts.   Let him do her there on the floor in front of the fire…with the peanut gallery cheering them on and tossing coin for the entertainment.”

“Oh fuck and the lack there of,” Eric sighed.

“Knews it,” Lafayette nodded. “Seens glitters on a bar, befores.  Man said his name was Bud and paid us to keep its on the bar. ‘Members that, Tara and Miss Sooks? There was somes over the tops weirdest of the weirds that night.”

“That’s right,” Tara snapped her fingers. “Folks we did not know wearing LSU beanies with ear flaps pulled down and talking about fireflies; they kept showing up that night, ordering Bud Light’s and insisting we put a pinch of that glitter in their beer and wanting to know if fireflies were trainable. Then they would chalk their initials on the bar, leave a nice tip and be out the door.”

Everyone was thoughtful as they eyed the stack of fairy tales sitting on the table, thoughts buzzing around the room like hungry bees settling on honey.

“Huh…” Pamela was off somewhere inside of her head as Eric sat quietly reflecting on past events, as well. There had been one or two in his long life that were…well…something.

“Ahhh-h-h-hm-m-m-m,” Samuel cleared his throat. “As I was saying…”

“So much in love,” E. twined her hands together and a bouquet of flowers grew. “But they need a bit of an adjustment,” she felt the sorrow in her heart that felt like a million raging bees at the insults that would be leveled on them. Things like…”Do you think he likes the way she squeals suuuu-eeeee when she comes or does he do her just for the bacon?” That just would not do.

Standing, the glow that encompassed her spread out to the entire room, freezing everyone in place.

As she approached, she could see who it was they needed to be. “Greetings and salutations and many blessings on those who know that love crosses all barriers.”   Placing a hand on Can-Can’s and then Jacques’ face, she smiled at the lovers as their faces unfroze and then the rest of their body was once more theirs. “A Were wolf and a pig,” she rubbed her nose first with Can-Can’s and then the Were’s. “I am here to enhance your destiny. To make the ordinary, sublime. To create harmony and leave a reminder of who and what you are.

Jacque,” she spoke his name and the bells throughout the land began to chime, “for the two of you to truly be together and to work though life’s mysteries, I change your matrix and your fate. You shall wear the Were only on the night of the full moon. The rest of the nights, you shall be human.

My darling Miss Can-Can,” she smiled at her as star dust settled on the pig. “With your lover’s heart, you shall walk with him in his Wereness. You shall be pig on the night of the full moon and embrace human the rest of the nights.

When you carry his child, you shall remain as human until you give birth to this gift of life. What say you?” she queried to them both and was not disappointed on what was in their eyes.

“Yes,” Can-Can’s voice was full of wonder.

“Yes,” Jacques responded, his voice deep and full of happiness.

Standing, E. backed away from the couple as millions of lights streamed into the room and danced around the couple. As it was absorbed into their skin, the wolf and the pig fell away, and there sat the human lovers. He was the blond male to her blonde female. His strength of muscle and sinew to her curves and delicate features.

“You have much to discuss,” E. bowed her head to them as she floated on the river of light that now ran beneath her feet. “Be at peace and know bliss,” she blew them a kiss and with a wink and a smile she was gone.

“Lovely and oh so kissable,” Jacques nuzzled his face in her neck as he pulled her up onto his lap.

“I love you,” she sighed as she wrapped her arms around him and her mouth found his, hungry and claiming him for her own.

The lovers were lost in the eternal embrace of completeness as the night passed and the light brought them to a new day.

And Can-Can and Jacques lived happily ever after.

The End.

Samuel was very pleased as he opened his notebook.

“But he kissed her and there was frontal rubbing,” Pam pouted.

“As humans,” Samuel chuckled. “Not as Were wolf and pig. I was most specific.”

“Well just damn! Do you want cash, check or just deposited straight into your account,” Pam sighed as she checked out the million dollar each richer group and then frowned at her maker’s brother.

“Seriously?” Tara sat back in her chair.

“A bet is a bet is a bet,” Eric grinned. “Tara, you owe each of us fifty, which Samuel can take out of your account and put into ours if you don’t have the cash.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I don’t have two-fifty on me.   I can get you the cash at the ATM, if you want.

Or,” her eyes went to Samuel, “you don’t mind the transfer?”

“Even for that small amount I charge a bit, that would be five dollars each transaction to do so internally.”

“Okay,” she was still nodding her head. “That will teach me not to gamble. Paying that extra twenty-five dollars is a good lesson.”

“Samuel, if you would do the honors, for myself and Pamela, as well,” Eric bowed his head.

“Do you always bet on the outcome of these?” Tara asked.

“Not always,” Sookie smiled. “Tonight was a first with money but from the look on Eric’s face, very possibly not the last,” she laughed. “I think he wants a rematch.”

.

Dear Readers,

Well…Brother Samuel, I would never bet against him.

On a personal note, I am doing much better. Sorry to take so long on the update. An IV for the CAT scan infiltrated my arm (I have small, ropey veins that like to push needles out, which it did) and the contrast for the CAT blistered the underside of my right upper arm. Great…big…blisters. And some small and medium-sized ones as well…

The burned area has been healing but painful when anything would touch it. Makes for some comic and not so funny situations. Such as you really cannot have company when part of your upper body is nude and your deeply disgusting arm is perched above your head enjoying the fresh air. Trust me, nobody wants to see that… LOL…

Much, much better, today. Can actually wear a soft cotton t-shirt.

Sigh…healing is good. Bland diets suck…still…

As always thanks for reading and your well wishes. And mistakes, I am sure there is more than one or two. More of that “sigh” thing.

CES

She’s A Brick House—Chapter 4

She’s a Brick House 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.

 

 

Sookie eyed the group while Samuel recorded the bets. Eric had that come on, lover, look all over him. That no matter what she said he would have a counter for it. And it would be something that made perfectly good sense. Well, one thing was for sure, since the Big Bad had done her sister Angelica, there was no way he was doing her, Can-Cangelica.

“Well now,” Sookie watched as money exchanged hands. “You all do know that the Big Bad ends up in the soup pot and gets…” she stopped, Eric was starting to drool.

“Get’s what lover?” Eric wiggled his eyebrows.

“Get’s dead,” she responded.

“Oh yes, the small death, repeatedly,” he grinned at her, his eyelids low and heavy, his voice soft and sure.

“Samuel,” her voice was light and merry, “put me down for a hundred, that virgin I shall still be by the end of this tale.”

“Oh my Sookie,” Eric grinned, “a challenge. Shall we begin?”

I like working. I like having a goal. I like being useful. I understand why our momma sold her house and divided it among us. I know she did it for me…for my sisters as well, but I have always dreamed big. I have saved my money in a human bank since I was small and I pinched every penny until I made them squeal. And to this day, I still stop to pick up a penny that I see laying on the ground. You collect a hundred of them and you have a dollar!

I always wanted to own my own little pub. Not something big and flashy, but something that was jus-s-s-t right. With what I had saved and my inheritance, I paid for this place.

“Can-Can,” Momma would tell me when I would add another coin to my bank, “someday you will be somebody! Independent! Your own boss! You keep saving your money and you make your dreams come true. Don’t be depending on someone else!”

Truer words, friends, truer words.

So I work hard and yet have not found time to play. Unlike my sisters. I can tell you I love them, but I would not give you one of my hard-earned or even found, pennies, for both of them put together.

I figure they will be in, tonight. Momma has been here drinking all day sobbing about her other girls. Bless her heart, but she is paying that bar tab. I have got rooms that need to be cleaned.

Apparently the baby of the family built a house made out of straw and the Big Bad Wolf burned it down. That was his idea of a break up. Could he say, ‘Hey de ho and fiddle de de, I fuck and run, shame on me.’ Or just chalk something on her front door. Like, ‘I am just not that in to you.’ No…apparently he could not. Burns down the fucking house!

And my middle sister, she has spent her money on a house made out of very loose sticks, a leaky roof, a chimney that can’t draw and has purchased every so-called magic item that has been hawked at her door. It hurts my head to think about it.

Momma’s drunk, I figure the reason she drinks cannot be far behind.

“Can-Can,” the barkeep called out, “we are out of simple syrup.”

“I’ll make some up in the kitchen,” she called out as she wiped down a table and headed to the back.

“That’s my hard-working baby, Can-Cangelica,” Mrs. Pigg sniffled with pride to E.   “No hard luck story will get you a free drink, no bullshit of how pretty she looks will either. No spreading her legs for every good-looking male that comes along, or rich ugly one either,” she added, dabbing at her eyes. “I am so proud. She makes her own momma pay for her drinks. I am out of money, so I’ll be working this off by cleaning toilets and scrubbing floors, tonight. Rightfully so,” the woman said with satisfaction.

E. Witch sat and thought about that. “If I had my spells back, why, I’d set a mop to mopping for you.”

“You are so kind,” Mrs. Pigg sniffled. “But Can-Cangelica does not allow magic in her establishment. You have to be bona-fide.   Magic and sexing don’t last, she always says. Magic is a whim and a dick goes soft. Cash you can hold in your hand and money is what you can bury in a hole. Hosting a man’s dick in your hole only leads to him spending your hard-earned cash.”

“That sounds a wee bit harsh,” E. turned around and watched Can-Can come out of the kitchen and back to the bar, drop off the syrup and then go ring out a customer.

Mrs. Pigg shrugged. “No male has burned down her house and she takes a broom and beats them with it if anyone is trying to sell her magic. I’d say she probably has the right idea.”

The wind was starting to howl and the rain was changing from a soft patter to a hard, pounding splat!   “We’re almost there, Sister Girl! I can sees the happiness of the glow of the lights in the glass of the window!” Angelica shouted in glee.

“Faster,” Bangelica sang, “faster, faster, faster!”

The front door of The Brick House blew open with a bang! as it hit the wall and then stayed open as the storm pushed the pelting rain into her establishment. Can-Can watched the candles all sputter and one or two went out.

In through the door came her two sisters dressed in what looked like schoolgirl uniforms. “Lordy,” she rolled her eyes. “Does it e-v-e-r stop!”

Dumb Ass and Dumber Ass Ho. No wonder Momma was drinking. “If I had birthed those two, I’d stay drunk,” as Angelica and Bangelica fell head long onto the floor, both of them dancing on their backs like bugs kicking out their final death scene as they shouted happily, “We are here, we are here. There is nothing to fear for we are here!”

“Nothing to do but get this started,” Can-Can said to herself as she approached them. “You are not two years old and I see Paris,” she pointed to her youngest sister, “and I see France,” she pointed to her middle sister. “I see,” she hissed, “both of your underpants! Get up off the floor and come over here and sit down. No body wants to look at that. It is dinner time.

I guess I should be grateful,” she hissed at both, “that you had undies on at all.”

“Spoiled sport…” Angelica sighed as she helped her sister up and together they sat down at the table closest to the fire and felt its warm goodness start to take hold as they adjusted their little piggy tails.

“I am only going to say this once,” Can-Can eyed her two wet sisters. “Angelica, this is not a whore house. Or a cat house, or a flop house, or your house. This is my house. Not in this building, not anywhere on my property are you to entice, make eyes at, grind your pelvis at anyone; or fuck a male, female, or anything animal, vegetable or mineral of any sex.

Bangelica,” she turned her full attention on her middle sister. “You are not to roll the drunks or skip your light fingers in and out of their pockets drunk or no. Not in my establishment, not outside on the grounds. Nor are you to follow them home. And I had better not hear you had BANGED! one of them, drunk or not to help yourself to their personal belongings. I mean it, both of you. You do that shit in my area and I see jail time in your future after I beat you both senseless with my broom.”

Can-Can looked over at the bar. Momma was no longer sitting there. She was making her way up the stairs carrying a bucket and a mop, cleaning as she went. This could work. Upstairs would get washed after the karaoke and Scotch party that had just left from up there and her sisters could not drive their Momma to drink anymore than they did already. Hell, after seeing these two in the little girl school uniforms, she wanted to tip back a bottle herself.

“But Olders Sister dear,” Angelica began, “it was horrible,” she fluttered her eyelashes. “We weres being chased by the Bigs Bads Wolf!”

“Which one?” Can-Can asked. “On Friday night’s this place is howling with Weres.”

“Alcide Herveaux,” Angelica said a little wistfully. “He owns a circus. You knows how I feels about the biggest of tops and the three rings. I deserves to be in one!”

“She loves the circus,” Bangelica said with a big sigh, placing both hands over her heart.

“You take those earrings off Alcide?” Can-Can asked, holding out her hand.

“What? These…” her middle sister began to scoot back in her chair.

“You want to sit in my pub, you ante up,” Can-Can hissed at her. “And Angelica always buys her current flavor a gold watch, as well as those gold hoop earrings. Hand it all over, as a deposit.”

Angelica sadly nodded her head yes at her middle sister as she watched Bangelica take out the earrings and then hand over the time piece.

“I’ll get your something to eat and drink and I’ll let you know when these run out of value. When that happens, I hope you have someplace dry to sleep, tonight. Because it is not going to be here.”

“But he is following us,” Angelica whimpered. “And I think he means to do us harm. I think he is going to you know, huff and puff and…and…” she wiped at her tears.

“He means to eat us,” Bangelica said. “He has done sisters before and he wants to do both of us at the same time. He says he likes to rodeo and can make us cum, together.”

“And…?” Can-Can raised her eyebrow at the two of them. “And the two of you would not enjoy that?”

“I’m not having her nasty left overs,” Bangelica responded with a frown. “Him huffing and puffing and her huffing and puffing and I don’t want to huff and puff…I just want to go through his pockets and take anything he has of value. And he was in a gypsy circus! Those sneaky bastards will steal you blind! And they did steal from the village! Why, he even took the Old Maid’s virginity! Of course, she’s not the Old Maid, anymore. More like Hot Momma sobbing for more of that wolf’s big dick. Besides, I have everything he has of value. Or,” she sighed, looking at her oldest sister, “I did. Now you have it. Is that enough to have a place to stay for tonight and maybe another…at least until he leaves town?”

“No,” Can-Can shook her head. “I told you. This is a deposit against your meals tonight and anything you have to drink. I’ve seen you both wallow in gin.”

“We needs us a bottle,” Angelica shook her head with surety. “One each for now ’cause of the cold an rain and one each for laters for the after-sniffles.”

“Shocker,” Can-Can rolled her eyes. “Give me your pack and I’ll see if there is anything that will purchase you a night’s lodging.”

Bangelica handed over her pack and watched as Can-Can took things out one at a time.

“That’s fairy dust,” Bangelica said as her oldest sister held up a small silk pouch. “A dragon’s heart,” she nodded as a small, blackened, hard something came out. “A birthday cookie for a troll,” she eyed it and then crossed her fingers when the small, dark wafer was removed. “Guaranteed to keep you regular and keep the bat shit crazies, away.”

“Twos for one,” Angelica said in approval, then, noticing that her middle sister had crossed her fingers, she did likewise.

“Whose shoes?” Can-Can asked. “And they are to small for your feet. What’s the story and do not lie to me.”

Shrugging, Bangelica made a face and said. “It was late. There was this camp-fire, I could see it in the distance. With my superior little pig nose, I knew there was only the one male. And he was asleep. So I took his saddlebag. Those were the only things in it.”

“Mm-m-m,” Can-Can said putting them on the floor and sliding her feet into them. “They fit me. And this little silk bag…I need something to keep change in,” she said pocketing it. “This will get you a night out of the storm. Momma is upstairs cleaning and working off her bar bill. You leave her be and when she finishes up, you let her sleep in the room with you. Otherwise, your asses are out.”

Hard looks passed over the faces of her sisters. True, Momma was a bed hog, and a cover hog, and a pillow hog. You could and often did end up on the floor if you slept with Momma. But what the fuck? It was her place, her rules and her Momma was drunk and working and she could sleep here. Besides, Momma would be going home as soon as she sobered up. These two…she’d bang her head against the wall if it would do any good.

“No sass,” her voice was hard. “I will deal with the wolf when and if he comes in, tonight.

Angelica, I know he burned down your house to break up with you so just stop lying to yourself. Mr. Big Dick is not going to marry someone who has done the entire fleet of two countries and who knows how many Airborne Rangers. I have seen the tattoo.

Bangelica, I know you spent all your money on your magical house,” she rolled her eyes, “and other worthless magics from the panhandlers that stopped at your door. Understand, you are not staying here due to my kindness. I work hard. I expect you to do likewise…and not on your back, Angelica,” she hissed at her sister, “and not with your light fingers, Bangelica.

Now, get upstairs. If you would like to do some good, you could always help Momma.”

Both of her sisters made sounds in their throats and then laughed as they made their way to the bar, picked up a couple of bottles each and then was up the stairs.

Waiting for them to close the door to their room, she threw another log onto the fire and listened to the wind that was whistling down the chimney. Looking down at her feet, she admired the shoes. They were not show-stoppers but they were comfortable and gave her a little zip in her step. The little silk bag was just what she had been looking for. Fairy dust, she rolled her eyes and let go of the long sigh. Opening it up, the glitter had come from the five and dime but it was lovely. In reality, glitter was one of her guilty pleasures. She was just not willing to spend money on it. Shame to let that go to waste. There was going to be a birthday party in here later. Sprinkling it on the bar for the birthday baby seemed to lighten her mood because she was getting just a mite bit pissy!

If the wolf had followed them, it would not be much longer. The weather was getting worse. Lightning was starting to ignite the room with long fingers of flashes followed by great big deep, alarming, rolls of thunder. Anyone with sense would get out of the threats that accompanied this night.

Yes, she knew Herveaux. Gypsy thief was right. She had caught him trying to remove her laundry off the line and she had yelled and cussed him and called him names and had beaten him with her broom until he had yelped and moved on. They had made so much racket windows had opened and neighbors had come out with pitchforks and pointed sticks and run him off. “He is a No Good,” she hissed under her breath.   When the door opened, there the no good Were stood. Wet, disheveled, and smiling, his body filling the door with the distinct smell of wet and excited Were. His eyes twinkling, and his teeth white and glistening in his perfect face.

Softly closing the door he swept off his hood and said low and husky, “Hello Cher,” picking up her hand he kissed it. “Can-Can,” he put her hand on the crook of his arm. “Please, Cher, allow me to purchase the prettiest one here a drink.”

“Angelica is upstairs,” she smirked.

“I did not say the easiest one,” he raised her hand for a kiss. “I said, the prettiest one,” as he drew her up next to him. “Step out back with me,” he whispered in her ear, “and let me kiss you properly.”

“Jacques,” she kicked him in the chin. “Where is Alcide? He has been chasing my sisters. Burned down Angelica’s house instead of telling her he had no intentions of marrying her then he chased both of my sisters all the way here. You think to pull your twin shit on me and I’ll skewer your liver and put it on the menu. If he is at this minute trying to climb the wall and come down the chimney, I’ll make pottage out of him.”

“Our own momma cannot tell us apart,” he licked his lips while he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “Yet you can and it is dark,” he lingered on the word, “and the glow of the fire lends a softness to storm that is raging,” he leaned down and kissed her check and whispered in her ear, “that is raging in my pants.”

“Magic shoes,” she smiled. “I can see the truth in all things. And there is no raging in your pants. You appear to be somewhat limp. I suspect you had your way with that dancer at Yancy’s, Little Sheba.   You smell of her and her rose-water perfume. Plus, you have been drinking rye. Little Sheba loves rye. No one else buys it for her because it is so expensive.

Then you show up here…I kid you not,” she hissed, “if Alcide tries anything… pottage! And I am having myself a new wolf cloak made. Last call to save his sorry ass.”

“Wait one,” he sighed. “I’ll be back.”

Watching him battle the door against the storm, once he was outside, she locked it.

When she could hear him pounding on it, she opened the slot and smiled at him. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Why Cher, I came to court you,” he replied. “Damn woman,” he grinned at her. “You are finer than a brick shit house. So fine, so ripe, so sweet, so…”

“Alcide,” she shook her head, “where is Jacques?”

“Oh come now Cher,” he grinned. “I am…”

At that time, Alcide was picked up and thrown out into the darkness. There was a muffled curse as he picked up speed and rolled down hill. “Please, Miss Can-Can,” Jacques bowed. “This storm is huffing, and puffing and about to blow me away.”

Pulling back the bolt, she opened the door and stepped aside. “Where is Alcide?”

“He won’t be back this way tonight, Miss Can-Can. I shall and I will promise you that.”

“You can stay until last call,” she said as she stopped to bus a table. “All the beds are taken,” she continued on in a matter-of-fact voice. “You will need to sleep elsewhere.”

“What about in front of that fire?” his voice was tender. “That spot taken?” he whispered.

“Well yes,” she replied. “My bed is being rented and so I am sleeping there.”

“Plenty of floor space,” he said softly. “You scared to sleep next to me?”

“Not scared to sleep next to you,” she chuckled, “it is the not sleeping that concerns me. Besides, Little Sheba has a thing for Weres. I am sure she would welcome both you and Alcide into her bed.”

There was a low growl.

“So, you do care for her,” she turned around and faced him. “Sounds to me like you are not up to sharing her with your brother.”

His eyes glowed and his teeth were long and sharp when he leaned into her and hissed. “Yes, maybe I took my pleasure there but only because you would not let me take my pleasure here.”

“So, because you are a man whore this is my fault?” she hissed right back.

“Can-Can,” he lowered his voice and kept it steady. “We have been playing at this for years. I want to marry you and you keep saying no. And I really have not been with Little Sheba. I just had her rub on me to make you jealous. Besides, Little Sheba is not my type.”

“Oh really,” she laughed. “You don’t like free and easy?”

“Yes, like you are free and easy?” he sighed. “Something not well-known is that she is a he. And as enticing as she is in that little fan number, a dick just does not do it for me.”

“Little Sheba is a he?” her eyes got round. “Damn, she is prettier than I am.”

“No,” he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “No one is lovelier than you.” There was nothing but truth in his eyes. And she could see it there, the longing and the wanting and the knowing that she was all that he would ever need.

“You are the one wearing magic shoes, Can-Can, you know I only speak the truth,” his voice was soft and sincere. Good he could see it in her eyes.   She knew the certainty that was in his heart. Now she would have to listen to the truth that was in her own. There was a love for him. She fought it and perhaps she feared it. But she was for him just as he was for her.

“You can sleep on the settle in front of the fire, I have got to get back to work,” she took her hand back and headed for the kitchen. “Holy shit,” she squeaked as she looked down at her feet. “Magic shoes! He really does love me!”

Eric grinned. “Anyone wish to up their bet?” he asked coyly. “Anyone at all? Or perhaps just forfeit now? Anyone at all?” he said wiggling his eyebrows.

“I will take some of that,” Samuel said as he opened his notebook.

Pam looked up from the book that she was thumbing, through, now deeply intrigued. “Interesting. Eric is moving in for the conquest and Brother Samuel does not think he is going to make it to what…first base?”

“Is that a kiss?” Samuel asked.

“Deep kiss,” Pam added, “with tongue. A lot of it.  Maybe a bit of frontal rubbing.  Maybe.”

“For the record.  My bet is that  the were-wolf and pig will not make it to first base,” Samuel stated as he wrote it down.

“La La, Tara?” Sookie asked. “What do you think?”

“Like I missed something important,” Lafayette was thoughtful. “And I trusts Mr. Samuel with my monies, so I guess I am standings with him. Just two hundred, thoughs.”

“I have never had money before,” Tara’s voice was sincere. “And I have got to tell you, the fifty I put in the pot, it makes me nervous just tossing money around like that. I have scrimped and saved my entire life. And I am still doing that ‘cause I am afraid I am going to wake up and I have dreamed all this. So, Samuel, I have all my trust and faith in you but these two are in love,” she grinned, nodding at the two blonds on the couch. “So I am standing at fifty that the Big Bad makes it and fifty that he does not.”

“So is shall be recorded, Miss Tara.”

Samuel smiled at Pamela.

“Give me one million on The Viking,” she smirked. “I am calling your bluff, Samuel.”

“Oh my,” he grinned.   “The gantlet has been picked up.”

“One million on The Viking,” Eric snickered.

With a flourish Samuel recorded the bet.

Sookie was watching the crowd. Samuel could really flourish! He could do some mean calligraphy with that pencil! Eric was smirking and Pamela looked like she wanted to up her bet. “I agree with Lafayette. I feel like I missed a great big something. So, no to first base. I guess I have a million.”

Eric nodded yes.

“Samuel if you would please…” she laughed, “put me down for whatever it was you said. Now I am really curious. Back to the story…”

She’s A Brick House—Chapter 3

She’s a Brick House Chapter 3

 

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.

 

Lafayette sat on the couch, thumbing his way through a more modern version of The Three Little Pigs. There were great illustrations of them as construction workers.   As modern as that tale was, he thought maybe Angelica Pigg was just a bit more modern being so very free and easy with her personal loving ways. Oh well, nothing to do but play the plot twist you had been given. And so he began:

 

“You has to know. I love my momma and my granny. They are just the best. But they are old and do not understand what it means to be young. I mean youn-n-n-n-ng,” she batted her eye lashes and ran her hands over her curves. “So young and the sex so good that I had burned down my house!    Mmm-hmmm spark causin’ sex! Who else can says that? That is what I thoughts! Yous may have a little some’n some’n goin’ on, but not holy smokes, literally!

So ‘cause of good sex, I now sleep out on the little porch because, frankly, it smells like old women in there. Cheap hair spray, what the fucks is Aqua Net? Some type of old person aches and pains ointment. Oh, and don’t use that for a lube. Just sayn’.   And walking sticks and canes and heatin’ pads everywheres you turn—and no tampons or pads, anywhere, I mights add—if you could turn. Why, there is not even room for a fart! Good thing Granny farts in her sleep while Momma farts while she is awake. If they were to both do it at the same time, they would blow each other out of the house! It is just tight, like certain young, desirable parts of me.

Honestly, I have more room out here on the stoop because inside there is one table, two chairs, two plates, two forks (not fucks), and two straw pallets on the floor. All of it handmade. Nothin’ purchased. All of it sayin’ old woman lives here and nothin’ saying about understandin’ bein’ young and pretty and a body built to be loved-d-d-d-d!

And they don’t understand about men. Mmm-hmm. I knows about men. And might-t-ty fine men at thats. Yes, they is always good lookin’, smells nice, and knows how to show a girl a good, good, time. Why, they tell me I am so hot and desirable and they want me so much, they can’t take the time to rent a room, or have buy me a meal, or to take me home to meet their momma. And nice things, they all want to buy me jewelry and whisk me away someplace I have never been. They all tell me they want to do these fine things for me, but I just make their parts aches with needs and I have had me some real men in places you cannot begins to believe…just ‘cause they wanted me and those words they whispered with desire made me wants them, too.

See, I understands about men’s needs and not being able to wait.

And Alcide, he is a great big sigh and sigh, again. I thought he was the one. We were so fine together. He owned a circus! And has traveled and seen and done…and, I can’t help but giggle…he has done the royalty of Europe and queens and maybe even a few kings, he confided. But you know what, he said I was the best sex partner he has ever had. Me…little ‘ole not beens anywhere or studieds, me. Yes, and he thought I was the one, as well. Until we had sex the other mornin’ that was so hot it burned down my house. Honest…our sparks caused it to go up in flames! He woke me up and we both ski-daddled. Once we met up agains outside, he explained to me how much he loved me and wanted to be with me but just look at what happened! We burned down the house! Could either of us truly be responsible for perhaps causin’ an entire village to catch fire? We sat and cried and held each other for a while and a bit and then we said goodbye and that we were just not destined to be. I could only agrees with him. Just like in Romeo and Juliet, we are star-crossed lovers. Mmm-hmmm…sigh…

So I mades my way to Granny’s and here I ams. I wish upon a star that my momma had not sold her house. I had my own girly room there and I knew where she kept the bottle of relaxation. Here at Granny’s there is no rooms and no liquors to speak of or at least I have not founds it yet. And both these old womens are expectin’ me to pull weeds and gather firewoods for the hearth. And I have only been here two days! I thought maybe I was a guest. For sure, I was almost a marrieds daughter! Bringing home a man with a steady income and almost changin’ my last name to his! That has got to count for somethin’!

But on the plus side, Momma understands about shoes! And how a girl needs her shoes! So, yesterday Momma bought for me some squealin’ wee wee wee all the way home red sparkles shoes of the runners of the tenny. My feet have ne-e-e-ver looked so goods!

Cannot say the same for my fine ass this mornin’. Last night out here under this stoop, it thundered, it lightnin’d and it poured down on top of me and all around my gorgeous Pigg self. Not wantin’ to get my nightly wet, I stripped down to just all this bare-assed fineness that is me. I had me a little river running down my ass crack. Now parts of that reason is because I likes to sleep on my tummy tum tum with my ass stuck up in the air. Sorta like a white round beacon in the night my granny says, as it signals to the sailors from the troop ships and what ever fleets happens to be in ports. I do so like me a sailor, mmm-hmmm! They would understand and possibly appreciate my ass crying a river. Seeing as how they know water and all.

But it was a dark and stormy night and not even my white ass could break through all that gloom. Now, this stoop is nice enough but has only the tiny of the tiny covers and it rained down on me during the longs and drearys nighst and my tail this earliness is not only curly but is k-i-n-k-y as well. Suuuu-eeee! Lordies I could use somethin’ hot right now…where or where is a well-endowed male when you need one? I have yet to meet me one who does not like bacon first things in the mornin’.

And so when I says that a line of beef cakes follows me around…well, it does…and I has never had to settle for breakfast link sausages…mmm-mmmm…no indeed…plump, thick, hot, and sat-is-fyin’ wursts are more my style.

Now that makes no never minds because Momma says I gots to get up and be to Bangelica’s for the sun clears the horizon. Says tis best if I am on the moves before the men folks are up. Cause I cause a parade where ever’s I go. Just fact.

So, I am off to see my half-wit sister. I don’t know what all the fuss is about and why Momma always says, ‘Poor Bangelica.’ Being a half-wit is better than being a no wit. I mean, half is half. I’d rather have half a well hung male then no male at all. Better than being a nothin’. I mean Granny always tells me, why pay for milk when you can have the cow for free. I think free is good and I always high-five her and nod in agreement. I can onlys hopes my sister dear lets me stays for free cause I don’t know where that cow is Granny is always referencin’. I could sure use hers right about now. A glass of warm milk sounds yummy! Then I’d sell her ass so I’d have a little foldin’ money. I don’t have a new man yet but I like for my man to dress nice and I like to buy him nice things. Until I find that cow, I hope sister dear has some of her inheritance left and does not mind loaning it to me if Mr. Right comes along.” Holding her hand out to check the weather, she smiled when she pulled it back in.

“Rain has let up. Times to go.”

Pamela let out a low moan and then yelled, “Awwww, really!” as she banged her head against the back of the chair.

“I can’t seems to keep my legs closed, plus make inferences. La La says you gets to define half-wit.”

Pamela’s eyes fastened on Lafayette and then shook her fists at the heavens. “Just fine then,” she hissed through her teeth. “Here we go.”

“Sissssss-ter,” Bangelica heard through her walls. “Tis I, your sister! Please let me in.”

“Which sister?” Angelica heard in reply.

“Yous Angelica,” was called back through a crack in the wall. “Sees my perfects eye shadow? My pouty full lips. My perfects ass,” she turned around and wiggled her butt.

“That’s some kink in your tail,” Bangelica said as Angelica turned back around and saw the eye staring back through the sticks. “I don’t recognize that. But I do know that white ass. Looks like granny’s.”

“What?” Angelica shrieked and then got control of herself. It was going to start raining and she needed to get out of the rain. “And I gots some smokin’ hots new shoes. All red and sparkles. You know how Angelica loves her red shoes and Miss Dorothy! My shoes is just like in the lands of Oz.”

“Oz?” Bangelica’s lips could be seen moving through the cracks. “I see you wearin’ Trudy’s shoes. Are you sure you are not Trudy? I thought Trudy from Oz was dead. Is that you Trudy?” she whispered and crossed, herself. “Have you come back to haunt me?”

“I ams not Trudy. I am not from that Oz, as in Australia. I am yous sister, Angelica. You know, Granny would always say in reference to me why pay for the cow when you can get the milk for free.”

“A cow, yes Granny would say that but you look like a pig. You look like my sister Angelica,” she said.

“Cause I am. Looks like rain, open this here door before I huffs and I puffs and I blows yous house down.”

Bangelica opened the door just as the wind howled through. Slamming it shut, the rain started and the wind, along with the rain, howled through the walls, as well. And when the slow drips from the roof started falling on Angelica, she remembered with fondness that river that ran down the middle of her ass cheeks, sorta reminding her of a bidet and the fun those could be. The water that was trickling on her head, this was Chinese water torture!

“I just left Granny’s and Momma’s this mornins’,” Angelica said, looking around the room and trying to find a dry place to sit. “What is all this stuff? And why does it smells like goose poo in here?”

“Oh,” Bangelica smiled happily. “Well, the Fuller Brush man stopped by and so I purchased his package so I could sell brushes, as well. Make an investment in something we all need and make a little extra money. And that jar, that holds magic beans. And the goose in her pen, she lays golden eggs and that accounts for the smell. I just ignore it because one day I will have a golden egg. Until then,” she smiled brightly, “I get breakfast,” then shrugging she added, “well, most days anyway. But,” she was all smiles again, “with Gertie the goose, I always have someone to lifeguard for me when I go swimming.”

Sighing, she motioned to the carpet in the middle of the floor that was now wet and the colors were running. “For some reason my magic carpet won’t fly…I think if I lost weight it would. My lamp won’t hold a flame,” she picked it up fondly and rubbed it, “the jinni keeps putting it out. The man who sold it to me said I needed the right cleaner for it,” she spit on it and rubbed it with her the corner of her dress. “That once it is cleaned properly, the jinni will stop blowing out the flame and I will have him to command. He’ll be back around next week with that solvent then all will be good,” she patted the lamp and set it down. “And my money tree out back,” she motioned with her head, “has not started to produce, yet. It has to over winter for a couple of years but this rain will do it a world of good.”

Angelica nodded her head, trying to understand and was sure she did not but it did not matter because she was inside and still getting rained on. What the fuck? “Sister, your house leaks. Why did you not purchase a house that was complete?”

“Oh,” Bangelica said with pride. “These are all magical sticks,” she said with awe as she waved her arms around. “I could only afford so many. Some are beat sticks. Some can levitate and witches use them to make their flying brooms,” she said with respect. “Some of them can be used to divine where treasure is hidden,” she whispered and wiggled her eyebrows. “And if you make a loom out of the right ones, you can weave a flying carpet.”

Leaning in she said with a quiet confidence, “And there are actually one or two, how I wish I had more, that can build themselves into their own house,” she smiled happily, as Angelica took a good look around and could only sadly nod her head.

“Any idea which is which?” she asked.

“No,” Bangelica smiled. “But I have time to figure it. You hungry? I have not had breakfast yet. The table is supposed to set itself and supply the food. I’ll give it a few more minutes and if nothing happens, then we’ll check the goose for an egg or two and we’ll eat,” the half-wit sister smiled happily as she sat down on a damp stool and stared at the table.

“Mmmm-mmm,” Alcide sniffed the air and let go of a very small howl. “Why now, Cher, I smell breakfast of the little Missy Pigg, type. And it seems to be coming from that house of sticks off yonder just a bit and a bit. Eggs, toast and,” he took another deep whiff, “I distinctly smell bacon,” he bit his lower lip and then chuckled uncontrollably as he approached the house, following his nose and tasting the ripe smell of Cher Pigg on the wind.

“Little pig my Cher, little pig my Cher,” he chanted, “come on now girly girl, let me in so I can tenderize your thighs up and down with my chinny-chin-chin.”

Both sisters stopped their forks that were half way to their mouths.

“Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin,” Bangelica responded as she drew down a bit on her stool so she could look through that wide chink to the outside.

“Alcide,” Angelica jumped up and ran to the door. Opening it, she threw herself into his arms, yelling “Alcide, lover, you have come for me! Are we just going to be fire-bugs? Say the word or words, please…” she sobbed.

“Woof,” was all he could say as he was hit with the full force of her little Pigg self and was knocked to the ground.

“Ah-h-h, sister no!” Bangelica screamed. “It’s the wolf!   Momma warned us about the wolf. That he would be sniffing around and not buying the cow when he was getting the milk for free. Then after he ate the cow, he’d eat us. Aaa-a-a-a,” she shrieked as she danced around on her tippy-toes, wailing and crying. “No,” she screeched as she waved her arms around in the air! “No, tis the wolf!” she cried as she flapped her arms some more in fright!

“Well, what have we here,” Alcide smiled up at them and pushed up with his elbow to one side of his body. “Sisters,” he wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips as he rubbed his crotch. “Why I do so love me some sisters! Now, I have not done sisters in a while, but Cher, you know me, the more the merrier,” he grinned as he stood up. “Get myself back in that saddle,” he made a forward thrust with his pelvis, “and we can rodeo! Whose on first?” he chuckled as he thought about the old Abbot and Costello routine. “And I know I can get you both to first, ‘round and ‘bout the same time” he grinned wickedly with all-knowing eyes. “Come on now, Angelica, come,” he winked at her, “on over here Cher and let me show your sister Cher how a wolf eats bacon,” he smiled licking his lips. “Mm-m, salty and hot and fingerin’ good!” He made a V with his pointer and middle finger and quickly tongued between them. Angelica getting wetter by the minute. Bangelica crying tears and not of joy!

“Aaa-a-a-a-!” Bangelica screamed even louder as she watched the wolf perform some sort of pole dancing routine without the pole, except for the one he obviously carried in his pants! Her eyes got big while he gyrated around and when he placed his hands on either side of his erection and pushed it at her, terror seized her and all she could do was move her feet up and down at a frantic pace!

Then, pulling the air from the bottom of her lungs she screamed, “BANG!” in the perfect imitation of the hunter’s gun and the wolf fell down.

“We have got to go,” Bangelica grabbed her sister’s arm. “My bang will only hold him for a few minutes, before his brain realizes it was not really a gun,” as she started taking the earrings out of his ears and going through his pockets. “These are really nice,” she smiled and then continued on in a rush. “As a rule, the bang it is just long enough for me to wring the duck’s neck or grab the fish and throw it up on the bank or…or…ahhhhh!” she screamed and yelled “BANG!” again, as she saw the wolf twitch, “or knock a wolf out long to take his jewelry and check his pockets for cash,” she grinned with delight when she came out with the gold watch, “and gives me enough time to run away!” Then she stood up and the adrenalin had her and she was screaming again and dancing around in a maddening circle!

“Just one more,” Angelica was yelling and crying and dancing along with her on tippy-toes, caught up in the moment of the BANG!

Now was her star-crossed lover chance! Alcide wanted her! He had been reaching for her and then…bang! His eyes were open and he was drooling but he was not moving and he had a hard-on! There was only one thing to do. She had to save his life. Because he deserved to go on, even if she was not the one!

“Sister,” she said, “I have got to do this. Alcide has explained it to me. Since he is Were, if he does not get off, he will explode and send his very fine wolf parts flying everywhere. You see his crotch, if I don’t release the pressure there, he will detonate all over your house. You don’t want wolf blood and guts on your magical things do you?”

“Ahhhh-h-h-hhhh!” was screamed again as Bangelica thought about having to clean that mess up. “Do what you must,” she was madly waving her arms around and “BANG-G-G-G-G!” she bawled loud and long, this time sounding like a machine gun. “I am leaving…he eats pigs. We are pigs. We are The Piggs!” as another scream was followed by dancing frantically on her tip-toes and running out the door! Hysterical was following in her wake and desperation clearing her path as Bangelica put the gold earrings in her own ears and continued to yowl at the top of her lungs as she broke into a full-out run!

“Perfect,” Angelica said as she started undoing his pants. “You just go ahead and head for sister’s bar,” she yelled after her. “I am right behind you!”

Sitting down on top of Alcide, she giggled. “I have this, lover! Even if we are star-crossed, and I knows we are, I would not lets you explodes and end your most handsomes life,” she sighed as she set into the steady rocking motion. “I am justs so sorry we are so goods together that we starts those burnin’ down the house fires,” she sniffled a bit and then felt the joy in her girly parts.

“Bang, bang, bang, bang,” she sang in her fine soprano and then there was a long, low, “ba-a-a-a-ng,” as she shuddered and a grunt was heard from Alcide and a smile covered his face. With a little Pigg farewell grind, which was her specialty, hopping up, she twirled in the air and landed on the tippy toes of her brand new sparkle red catch me if you can tenny runners and headed out the door as fast as her Pigg legs would carry her with her kinky tale bouncing along behind her!

That BANG! was a powerful thing. Alcide’s brain thought for sure he had been shot. The Big Bad for now could only raise his head so his eyes could see the red sparkle darting away in the rain. There was a cold breeze blowing on his wolf nether regions and there was the very pleasant feeling that a load of manhood was missing and there was the very distinct smell of bacon.

“Bang,” he smirked. “Gotta get me some more of that! Now,” he slowly sat up and righted himself and tucked his penis back into his pants, “if I was a little Miss Pigg, just where o’ where would I head? Why, maybe to sister’s bar, Cher! Maybe to The Brick House. I hear the new owner, why Cher, I hear that she is the Miss Pigg and she is a brick house! Bang!”

 

“Not one more word, Eric,” Sookie eyed him. “Do not…” she began when he picked up her hand and turning it over, he licked if from her inner elbow all the way down her to her middle finger, where he kissed the tip of it and then smiled most charmingly.

“Why Cher,” he winked at her, “I hear Little Miss Brick House is so fine, that she had not ever opened her legs for anyone. And never been kissed. And not once has she felt a…”

“Eric!” Sookie pinched him.

“Oh, we gots us a virgin,” La La chuckled.

“A virgin that has never been kissed,” Pam laughed gleefully…or maybe that was a cackle! “Who wants odds that the Big Bad Alcide does not get in her pants or even a feel of her breasts? And certainly no tongue action, anywhere!”

“I’m ready,” Samuel said opening his notebook and taking out a number two pencil. “Go, I’m recording it all. Eric, you big stud, I am starting with you. How much and how far? Place your bet!”

 

She’s A Brick House—Chapter 2

She’s a Brick House Chapter 2

 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.

 

“You ready Samuel,” Tara asked as she glanced through the story one more time.

“Yes,” he smiled. “I like your diligence,” he said pointing to the book, “but sadly, will not do you much good with this crowd.”

 Mrs. Pigg came into the bar and sat down.

“Tequila,” she sighed. “And just keep them coming.”

“Tough day?” the woman dressed all in black with a green skin tone ask her.

“For starters, as you can see, I am a pig. Every day is a tough day. Folks love bacon and all.  Then, I had children. Just what was I thinking?” she sighed.

“My name is Mrs. Pigg,” she said with a nod of her head. “You got kids?” she threw back her head as another shooter was dispensed and as soon as it was sat in front of her down it went and she motioned for another.

“No,” the witch said. “I am E. Witch. Just call me E.”

“Good for you, E.,” she sighed as she tipped the next shot down her throat, admiring the burn. Reminded her of the burn when she gave birth. “I got three girls, I love’m all, but I would not give you a half pence or a penny for all three of them put together. My oldest, she owns this bar, The Brick House. Do you think she lets me drink for free, hell no. And I can say, good on her and how proud I am, but damn and fuck and shit,” she stomped her foot, “there are times when I could sure use some one in the biz to toss me a bottle under the table. Just damn and fuck and shit!”

“What happened?” E. leaned in and motioned for a glass of the same.

“My girls are grown.   And to encourage them to move out and not move back in, I sold my house, split everything four ways and sent them on their way. Then I moved back in with my momma to take care of her. It is cramped and then some but there is no room for anyone else…or so I thought.

As I said, money and furnishing, split four ways. My oldest, she invested in this bar. Seems to be doing a nice business. My middle child, she bought herself a house of sticks. No chinking, leaky roof, fireplace does not draw, that born yesterday sign on her forehead there for all to read. Bangelica is not the smartest of the girls, but she has a good heart, wants to believe and is easily fooled.

That brings me to my youngest. Angelica. Leave the bottle,” she said to the barkeep. “From now on, I am pouring my own. You can’t keep up,” she admonished him with a sad shake of her head.

“She…she…is a good child in her heart, but I swear, what a slut! If it’s male, she’ll fuck it.”

“Ah-m-m-m,” Sookie shook her head.

“Oh, oops, sorry…” Tara made a face.

“If it is male, she will invite it into her bed. Just pick an orifice and she’s entertained there. Now mind you, she does not charge or anything. Why, they don’t even have to buy her dinner cause she is all about “Hey…” comes out of her mouth, then her clothes come off and then it is put it here and move it there and let me suck on that. That girl child takes after my momma. Just say’n.

I gave all the girls their inheritance. Angelica is frugal for a day or two and before she moves out, she goes down to the river and cuts reeds and then does some gleaning in a farmer’s field and she builds herself a house. A straw house.”

“Well, that’s thrifty,” E. nodded her head in agreement as Mrs. Pigg poured her a snout full.

“Well yes, and when she moves into her own place she is all excited because she has found herself a roommate. A male,” she rolled her eyes, “roommate.

A Were wolf roommate.”

“Were?” the witch crossed her eyes. “A Were and a pig? Really? And that did not give cause for alarm? Like maybe she’ll end up a side order with a couple of eggs over easy and toast? A ham portion with spatzel? Or roasted whole for Yuletide with an apple in her mouth?”

“Oh, it gets better. I will let you guess as to what his last job was.”

“Was?” E. chortled. “As in he now does not have a job?”

“That would be correct. He has a sugar tit to suck on. Why does he need to work?”

“I really am not very good at guessing,” the witch sighed, “since I lost my spelling ability.”

“That is okay because his last job was working at the circus,” Mrs. Pigg shook her head in disbelief. “The circus! There was a gravedigger who wanted to court Angelica. She would have nothing to do with him dead people and all…yadda, yadda, yadda.

Garfield the gravedigger, well now, he’s a man with a steady job and a guaranteed income. You know, Death and Taxes! Come on! These are hard times but you know he is always going to eat. If nothing else, if the grieving family can’t pay, he can sell the parts. Lots more money in parts anyway. Everyone knows that. Old Doc Frankenstein is a good customer. Pays up front whether he needs that part at the moment or not! Just show up at his door and he’ll dig into those deep pockets and you’ll eat for a couple of months!

But someone from a circus! She was dancing up and down! She told me she had always wanted to join the circus!   And now she was joined…” Mrs. Pigg beat her head against the bar. “Well hell yes, wolf boy,” she righted herself, “move your ass on in here! And look! Here is my inheritance. Let’s get you a hair cut, a new suit of clothes and a new pair of shoes, a fine gold watch; got his ears pierced, with some fancy gold earrings to wear, a tattoo that says, and I shit you not, Eat More Bacon, and who knows what else.”

E. was startled. “You mean he was attached to the gypsy circus that just passed through here?”

“The one and only,” she said in disgust as she threw up her arms in the air. “You know, the night they left, they stole everyone’s laundry that was hanging out on the line. Took I don’t know how many chickens. Why they even purloined the front steps from the Old Woman that lives in the shoe. She sent her old man out the next morning to collect eggs and he fell off the front porch. Broke his penis. Not that she is complaining. Says she is looking forward to having some time off from birthing. And she said every time they had sex, when he would roll off her, he’d fart and she said there went her big O. It smells so bad she said it was like she had never had one. Says she does not miss that at all, all that expended energy and her orgasm evaporates, faster than his fart,” she said snapping her fingers.

The witch got quiet, decided what the fuck and just charged on. “This Were that she is seeing…?”

“Was seeing,” Mrs. Pigg stuck her finger down her throat and made gagging sounds. “The man whore she was seeing,” she stressed sitting upright. “She came home this morning, crying about the good sex and his great big piece of business and how he made her howl with desire and her titties would get all tight and he’d suck her off…seems the sex was so hot they burned her house down. Of course, first thing he did was high tail it on out of there and left her without any clothes on her back and no dick in her front.”

“Burned down…” the witch had another hit and let the magic of the alcohol take her. “This Were got a name?” she asked as she dispensed herself another drink.

“Alcide Herveaux,” she snickered. “It even sounds like a cheap French whore’s name. Instead of charging by the hour, apparently she paid by the inch. I hope the well-hung bastard was worth it because she is sleeping on the back stoop and it is supposed to rain, tonight; she will be there until I can buy her a pair of shoes and send her off to her sister, Bangelica. Poor half-wit mite that Bangelica is.   Her and her loud ‘BANG!’ Scares things senseless! When Angelica shows up, I hope that slick bastard is not stalking along and then wanting to BANG!” was yelled, “my middle child as well. That would just be my luck. Grandbabies that would howl at the moon and want pig for breakfast. My momma would not shut the fuck up about that one,” she moaned. “As if she shuts the fuck up about anything now!”

“We need,” the witch motioned to the barkeep, “another bottle.”

“What?” Mrs. Pigg patted E. on the hand. “You are so kind to buy and to sit here and listen to me bitch.”

“Well, in all good conscience, I might be the reason for your daughter’s affair of the heart with the Were. The story unfolds thusly: I am presently without spells. As in, I lost them betting with a dragon. So, the Were approached me about an irresistible spell and he paid me in gold, probably your daughter’s money, which I used as a down payment to the dragon to get my bag of tricks, back. See I was to trade Rumpelstilskin Angelica’s straw from her house for Alcide’s spell.

As of this morning, I am still in debt to the dragon who is sucking the life out of my spells, I am sure. I am without straw, Angelica is without a home, you have gained a daughter who cannot keep her legs closed, Rumpelstilskin will curse me with a million fleas in my crotch and armpits if I don’t produce the straw so that he might spin it to gold and that man whore Alcide seems to be the only winner here, with his big dick and spelled irresistible.”

“That is just not right,” Mrs. Pigg said, wiping the tears from her eyes as she tipped the bottle into their glasses.

“Just not right,” the witch nodded in agreement. “This blue agave is really something,” she sighed and finally had the chaptuz to ask the big question.  “You think the Were really is that big in the manhood department? Biggest I have seen up close and personal is an 8 incher.”

“Bigger,” she sighed. “Angelica said she measured. He’s a foot long hot dog…and not your typical hot dog…more like a sausage…very round, thick, and robust, complete with a nice tight bun.”

“Woof,” the witch threw back another as she got the visual.

“That’s what she said,” as Mrs. Pigg turned up the bottle and emptied it.

“BANG!” Pamela yelled and clapped her hands together as she sat there shaking her head, rolling her eyes and drove an imaginary stake through her heart as her head fell against the back of the chair, her tongue now hanging out, her eyes crossed.

“M-m-m h-m-m, yous La La says. Missy Pam I feels yous pain. I sees a big bad wolf comin’ our ways and at least yous gots a ‘BANG’ goin’s for yous. All I gots is my spread legs and hopefullys new tennies of the shoes to help me run my piggy fastest and jump my little curly tail highest.

La La says he can sees where yous needs to be practice’n with the tales,” he eyed the group. “Lordies…”

Dear Readers,

Thanks for indulging me with today’s writing exercise.

BANG!

CES

She’s A Brick House—Chapter 1

She’s a Brick House

 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.

 

“I think,” Pam grumped, “that I have better luck with rock, paper, scissors, rather than pulling these little slips of paper that designate our characters out of this hat.”   Wrinkling her nose and making a face she eyed the black top hat that was turned upside down on the coffee table. “Whose hat is this anyway? I have not seen anyone here wearing it? And it smells like…like…some cheap French whore…and I knew one or two of those back in the day. And I swear, Jonette, you would think as vampire she would have gotten’ past that cheap French whore part of her life. But no-o-o-o, she is still spreadin’m and charging by the hour and that girl still does not bathe. Just dabs on more perfume. You know, her wardrobe is top-notch from the House of Chanel in Paris and from a distance she is a delight to look upon, but if you stand down wind of her or in the same room, especially on a warm night, she smells like five hundred year old cheap sex. And a mix of cheap fragrances that would cause the headache if you were human. Just say’n,” she rolled her eyes. “Vampires should have more pride than that.

Now where was I, oh yes, where did you find that old top hat?” she quizzed Eric and then shook all over. “I have seen some of the places, my maker, you have been. We may not want to know. The previous owner probably jerked off in it repeatedly and then shit his brains out in it. Momma Sookie, I’ed ask you to draw for me except I make my own luck and I would not want you to catch something from that questionable piece of fashion wear and give it to Baby Signy.” Pam closed her eyes and gingerly put in her hand, being careful not to touch the sides and drew out a slip of paper.

“I wore it to President Lincoln’s inauguration ball,” Eric replied. “It has been sitting in the top of my cedar closet since. Sookie saw it when we were going through my things at the other house and wanted to bring it home. She thinks I look very handsome in it,” was said with a smile at Sookie and then a glare at Pam.

The world’s best child cracked open one eye. “Well yes my maker, very handsome,” she pushed out a smile, not fooling anyone.

Eric growled low and taking the slip of paper from her tossed it back into the hat and Eric drew one for her. Handing it to her, he said. “We are all waiting.”

Opening the folded paper, she sighed deeply. “I am the not-so-bright and easily fooled Pigg sister who built her house out of sticks.”

“There is a lesson there child, somewhere,” he arched an eyebrow at her as he stuck his hand in. “Well drat,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “I am the big bad Were wolf. Says here I have already eaten the Pigg sister who built her house out of straw.”

“I am sure she found it most satisfying,” Sookie chuckled.

Wiggling his eyebrows again, he passed the hat to Sookie.

Reaching in she pulled out and read, “Sweet, I am the oldest and smartest of the Pigg sisters and I built my house out of bricks. Samuel,” she passed the hat to him, “what say you?”

“Hm-m-m,” he regarded his character. “It says, the Wicked Witch that the Were works for.”

“No…what…” Eric sat up straighter and reached for the small bit of paper. “There is no wicked witch in the Three Little Pigs,” Eric eyed Pamela. “There was written down Mrs. Pigg, sending her children out into the world…” Eric’s glimmering eyes did not faze his child one bit. Humming as she went through the fairy tale, he could now see her plan. She had palmed Mrs. Pigg and substituted this instead.

“Wicked Witch,” Eric cackled evilly. “Gladly, my brother I would trade…”

“No trading,” Pamela smiled at both as she looked up from the pages in the book. “Now, let us begin…

Once upon a time…”

“Bonjour,” Eric said standing and taking the top hat off and bowing deeply at the waist, “my petit humans,” he winked at the crowd and licked his lips.   “Allow me to please introduce myself. I am Alcide Herveaux. Perhaps you have heard of me, oui? My family and I, we did come here to this country by way of the cirque, Hurlement de Loup. And Cher, we of the Howling Wolf Circus, we give the best entertainment,” his eyes smoldered as he delicately licked his fingers, “for your francs and whatever form of payment you wish to make. We invented the term, bar-r-r-ter,” he rolled the r’s and trilled them at the same time.

“But,” he smiled as he brushed the lint from his hat. “That is no longer moi. My family moved on to other parts. The Cirque is a living, breathing entity and must constantly be on the move, perhaps just one or two steps beyond the local constable. But again, this is not me. No, ver-r-r-y law-abiding, I am.

I stayed here to bask in the lovely sunshine and smell the grapes at harvest; with the chill air, help with the butchering of the livestock and drink the wine heated at winter’s hearth.

And the ladies, why Cher, it is the most amazing and astounding thing! They invite me into their home and sometimes,” wetting a finger he ran it across his eyebrow, “even into their bed. Why,” his voice lowered and he leaned in, “I have been known to love them, eat them,” he smirked and licked his lips, “and then leave them.

And, it goes without saying, I have a deep and abiding affection for all things Pigg. Suuuuuu-eeee,” he chuckled and slapped his knee. “There were the three most delightful Pigg sisters in all the land. Right here. Right now. Well,” his grin got bigger. “Now there are only two because last night, I entertained Miss Angelic Pigg. And ange she was. I am sure, Cher, that no angel ever tasted sweeter on my tongue.

You know, I watched her walking home to her house made out of paille. And that got me to thinking, was her bed stuffed with straw as well? And would she perhaps, like to be stuffed with me? How about an apple stuffed in that charming little mouth she had? Would keep the good folks of her village from hearing her little Pigg squeals of delight. There is not much to those straw walls and there was not much left of her when I was roused to go.

When I left her this matin, as the sun was beginning to wake, why her little Pigg thighs were rubbed raw from the hair on my chinny chin chin.”

Blowing his breath into his hand, he sighed and taking a deep satisfied whiff said, “Bacon.”

“And yes, bacon,” the witch cackled on the word and then hissed. “Why, I did not see anything of this perfect angel,” she swatted the wolf with her broom. Listening to him yelp was most satisfying. So much so did she delight in that yelp of pain, she swatted him, again. “And where is the straw you were to bring me from her house? I must have that straw, it is promised. I had to deal with that ugly little troll Rumpelstilskin for the spell that makes you irresistible to women because you could not attract them any other way. Why the smell alone,” she batted at the air in front of her nose. “When I flew past there this morning, I could not believe my eyes. The cottage had burned! It was not even still smoldering. All you could see was ash from once where her cottage had stood. If I do not take that troll that straw I am cursed but gladly I share it with you. May a hundred million fleas nest in your crotch and….”

“No, no, no,” Alcide interrupted, wishing not to be so cursed. “This little Pigg sister, she only died the small death in my arms. More than once,” he smiled sweetly, “as in multiple times.

I swear, I cross my heart and hope to die,” he said in his most sincere voice, “she yet lives and can rebuild. You shall have your straw from the small Miss Angelic Pigg. I promise this.”

There was a knock at the door. “Sookie, it is Tara and La La,” was called out.

“Oh,” Sookie hopped up and was at the door in a streak, opening it and pulling them inside.   “Goody! Are those,” she took a deep whiff, “chocolate no bake cookies in that picnic basket? Oh Lafayette, bless you. You got them made, today. I was not expectin’ to have any until tomorrow. I have been cravin’ these like crazy.”

“Yes, Tara told me you done mixed some oatmeal and peanut butter and chocolate syrups, together. Can’t be havin’ that!” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Baby Signy is to have her La La’s fineness.”

“You are just the best,” she sighed. “Come on in, we are practicing our fairy tales for when Baby Signy gets here. I think you know everyone.”

“Hey,” Tara and Lafayette called out and waved.

“Please, join us,” Eric stood and indicated they were to sit. “We have just started The Three Little Pigs. All is not to canon,” he said with a sad shake of his head.
“Seems a witch has been added to the mix that the Were wolf,” he stressed, “works for and with said witch has come Rumpelstilskin, who has yet to make an appearance. And the Pigg sister that built her house out of straw, who was dead, now lives.”

“Apparently she only died the small death with the Were-wolf,” Pam stressed, “in attendance upon her,” she smirked, saw the look on Eric’s face and added hurriedly, “of course, she died several times beneath the body of this expert lover.”

“Let me pour up a glass of milk. Who else wants one?” Sookie asked eyeing the group. “Nobody…well just fine then,” she grinned, “get them caught up and I’ll be back.”

When Sookie returned with a large glass of milk and the cookies plated up she could see the pained expressions on both Tara’s and Lafayette’s faces.

“So,” La La reached for a cookie. “So, Mr. Eric, Mr. Samuel and Missy Pamela, does not know the tales. But I sees plenty of books for references. And we is just ad libbin’ at times as we goes along. And sometimes, it gets justs a bit naughty…that’s why the practicin’ and such.”

“Oh yes,” Sookie’s mouth was happy, happy as she ate her third cookie. Two had just jumped from the basket into her mouth, by-passing the plate. “Once in a while I just butt in, being polite and all, and say, that is not for Baby Signy’s ears.

Eric will do the same.”

Tara nodded in understanding. “So you have to follow on with your character. And the next person has to build on to whatever has already been stated. Kinda like Parlay, only different.”

“Well yes,” Sookie nodded. “Exactly.”

“I’m game,” she smiled.

“Let’s do this mother. Oh, was his La La fineness not suppose to say that? I do so apologize to Baby Signy if that is the case.”

“I did not hear that followed on with the *F* word,” Sookie smiled. “So we are to the good. Let’s get started.”