Chapter 22: This Life & The Next

“You can take it, darlin’.” Buck put his weight on Nieema, stealing her will to breathe. “Yeeeeah. That’s it. You like it heavy!” Buck growled as the missus moaned.
“I dooooo. Ohh—Bu—uck! There, baby. Right theeerrre.”
He focused on her sweet spot and she whimpered as bones popped.
“Yes,” Nieema groaned. “Crack my shit, baby. Stomp on that bitch! I said harder, old man.”
“I’m doing it.”
“You ain’t.”
Buck rolled his eyes and stepped on her spine. She hollered in pleasure. “A vampire your age shouldn’t have back problems or any physical ailments at all. Them babies fucked you up, darlin’.”
“Yeah! And who put them, babies in there?”
An ugly belly laugh bubbled up from Buck’s gut as he stamped on his wife’s back.
Buck spent twenty minutes, once a week stepping on Nieema’s spine. Most vampires who conceived had some small physical issue. Pregnancy was hard even on immortal folk and orcs alike.
“And I’ll do it again,” Buck vowed.
“I know that’s right,” Nieema said, hands tucked under her chin. “Fill me up, daddy!”
“Nasty mouth.”
They laughed as Buck continued his business of jumping on her. She was a sturdy gal and loved about three or four hops. When something popped, she moaned once more.
“Darlin’,” Buck started, pressing the ball of his foot into her shoulder, “you heard from Jasper yet?”
“Uhhhm. No.”
“She ain’t come out the house yet, and I’m getting worried.”
“Buckley, we don’t know her well. Maybe she’s a homebody.”
“I mean, yeah, but after the other night she disappeared.”
“Hm. Weirrrd.”
Buck paused and squinted. Her response was short and squeaky.
“Nieema Desiree Falerie Sunside, what did you do?”
“Why do I gotta do something?”
“‘Cause you did.”
“You don’t know shit.”
She didn’t even look up at him. The betrayal. Buck cussed, lowering to the floor. He joined Nieema and lay on her body. She was more comfortable than hardwood. Though his wood was now pressed into her dimpled ass. Buck ignored the tempting juggle and cushion for the moment.
“Nieema.”
The woman smacked her teeth and said, “We were having such a good time, and I figured—she was into it and me. Jasper was interested, earnest, and assertive. She gave proper consent and everything.”
“You did not.”
“Shit, she was quick putting a hand down my pants, and I wanted to taste her. So, you know, naturally, we ended up downstairs. After our climax, she vanished. I think I spooked her.”
Buck knew it had something to do with sex. Nieema was an intense, impulsive vampire with a high sex drive. He’d been dealing with her pangs for a hundred years. They had their ways and proclivities as a couple, but Buck didn’t always think with his dick.
True, he wanted to make it flex with Jasper. Cut the demon down for about an hour or so, but he had a feeling she wasn’t ready.
“Nieema, baby. Why you have to go and do that?” Buck rolled off of his wife and eyed her. The woman knew better than to meet his stare and didn’t. “She was celibate. You heard her just fine.”
“Yes, but you weren’t there. Jasper was about to take lead on the matter. I had to calm her down, shit. That’s not how this show go. Not yet, at least. That woman was on fire. Just sick about it, baby.”
He stood and marched on over to Nieema’s vanity. He snagged the scissors, pulled the chair, and short whistled. She rose with vampire agility, defying gravity as if it didn’t exist. After sprinting over, she sidled up, and sat down.
Buck snagged a twenty-four-inch braid and snipped the end. With practiced ease, he unraveled and loosened the thick strand.
“I know how you feel about wanting to bed her down, but I think, you jumped it.” He discarded the hair into the plastic bag that waited in Nieema’s lap while she mumbled curses. The old woman knew she was wrong, so he didn’t have to say it. “Sweetpea, Jasper moved out here to get away from drama.”
“And we ain’t bringing none to her.”
“Maybe to you this ain’t drama, but for her, it could be a lot.”
“I thought you were in a hurry, Buckley. You the one making bets and shit.”
“That was for a nice dinner, not no thick dick!”
“Well, that’s what I thought.”
“Of course you did, freaky.”
Nieema chuckled, clipping the ends of a braid. They used the next ten minutes to take down her hair with normal chit chat about the family. Norma was on her way, Mace was in marriage troubles, and Trey had another baby on the way with his ex-wife. That was some mess for your ass, but that was his life. Couldn’t tell him or them anything.
Buck tried to steer their babies and grand babies right, but after a certain age, there wasn‘t no changing their minds.
“Jo tell you Trevor wants to press charges?” Buck asked, raising a brow.
“I know he does.”
“That was a love tap! Pussy.”
“I doubt it.”
“Who side is you on?” Buck asked, checking the wife’s reflection, making her giggle. “Mhm. See what I get? Disrespect.”
“That man got what’s coming to him,” Nieema said, pulling free another blue strip of hair. “Monroe is in Misthill now. He can’t seem to get an appointment with the Mayor. He’s indisposed. I sent him a summons.”
“Mm. Had to put on the crown, huh?”
“Unfortunately.”
“At least you look good wearing it.” She smiled, and Buck kissed her thick, natural mane. “I’m sure we’ll get this settled nice and easy.”
“The Voaremonts aren’t known for rolling over, Buck.”
“We ain’t either.”
“I know that’s right.”
After cutting a few more ends, he loosened braids as Nieema breached the Jasper subject yet again.
“I gave her a job at the shop.”
“I mean, we need the help, but do you think she’ll be okay? I still don’t wanna let her outta my sight.”
“I told Maggie about it,” Nieema reassured. “She’s willing to charm the store.”
“That’s quick thinking, my love. On your toes!”
“Aren’t I always?”
Buck barked in laughter and trashed his last batch of hair. “Hell nah.”
“I know you better hush.”
“What? I’m supposed to lie? You said there ain’t to be no lies or secrets between us. I will hold to the vow we made allllll them manymanymany years ago. I know you probably don’t remember. Senile self. We gotta get you to bed, it’s late, Grandma!”
“Shhuuut uuuup.” She cackled right along with Buck. “And it’s you who gon’ put me to bed.”
“Damn skippy!”
As always, Nieema and Buck found solace in each other. There wasn’t a quiet, dull moment between them. After decades, ten and some change, they’d become the best of friends. Marrying the person who made him laugh was the best decision of his life.
The night they’d met, he’d made her chuckle and vice versa. Within hours, Buck had become enamored with some Ravensguard soldier he was likely to never see again.
After a passionate day in bed, Buck had said goodbye. He promised to find her someday.
Turns out he didn’t have to look hard, because ten years later, Nieema showed up at the tavern wearing his favorite smile.
“Ooooooo baaaaby, listen!” Nieema relaxed as Buck scratched her scalp. He focused on the middle of her head and the kitchen, just how Mrs. Sunside liked it. “You know how to use them hands… mmmm, yes you do. Little to the left, litt—ooop!”
Buck cackled and carried on with their routine, which led to the bathroom. These times, the few they shared with such busy lives and a large family, he cherished. They were his priority. Taking care of his dame wasn’t always top of mind. Buck regretted them days, when he didn’t put Nieema first. She belonged on the pedestal he’d built only for her.
After washing, rinsing, and stripping down to nothing, he covered Nieema’s conditioner-soaked tresses with an extra-large shower cap.
“Thereeee you go.” Buck popped the elastic, and Nieema flinched. “Now come here and get what’s coming to ya.”
She giggled as Buck plucked her plush behind off the tile and carried her right on into the shower stall.
Steam laced with lavender and chamomile soothed the mind while Nieema’s lips roused every nerve.
Scolding hot water pelted his back and cascaded, dripping from his tight braid. With little finesse and impatience, Buck set his woman on a stone bench and loomed.
“Well,” Nieema prompted, “go on and satisfy your vicious sweet tooth.”
Her crimson stare provoked several emotions. Buck had never been one to beg or snivel for pussy. That was until he’d met Nieema. He’d snuff the sun if it’d bring this woman peace. He’d vanquish all evil and become the worst version of himself if it pleased his queen.
Nieema spread her delicious thighs and blessed him. Plump and glistening, her southern lips beckoned a motha fucka. She wept for a kiss, and he’d never deny Nieema a thing in this world.
Buck’s knees gave as he was enchanted by velvety brown softness and glittering blush pink. Nieema presented herself and dipped a finger between what he knew to be sopping wet walls.
Buck growled and bristled, snatching her hand away.
“Hands off my goods, old woman.”
She laughed and undulated, cupping her buxom bosom. Nieema’s scent drew him closer.
Buck kissed her flesh, and she hissed. He sniffed and grunted, growling as the beast within longed to devour.
Her wetness coated his lips as he circled her large clit with his nose. His wife was insecure about her precious rosebud. For a time, she hated how it protruded and swelled with her arousal. It took time, care, and reassurance.
Buck loved to suck and tease her large clit.
“Mmmm,” Nieema moaned with every kiss and nuzzle. “Babbbee, pleaaase.”
“You so fuckin’ wet, woman.” Buck clutched his dick and flicked her with the tip of his pierced tongue. “I need another batch for my tea. I’m almost out.”
“You know what you gotta do.”
He responded by suckling her button and mashing his god damn face into her pussy. Buck worked her clit. Around and around while Nieema rocked slowly. She sang his favorite melody and melted with every lazy lave and lap. He sipped from her with gladness and appreciation.
Buck swallowed her rich decadence and vowed once again to be her last devotee. If there was no one left to bow, he’d be the queen’s final hand to bend the knee. If there were none to adore her, he’d be there to shower her in affection. He’d be the last to obey the Ravensguard queen. His final breath would be that of dedication! Of his love, in this life and the next. Until the goddess called him to the Soil of Soul Buck promised to stand tall at Nieema’s side.
Mating be damneed. In truth, he didn’t need it. His lifeblood was hers the second they spoke.
“Oooo shit!” Nieema keened. “You like how I taste, love?”
He responded by gripping her hips. Buck yanked Nieema forward and gorged on his favorite meal of the night until she thrashed, on the cusp.
It was in the tremble of her words and curl of her chubby toes.
Buck studied her body, inside and out. Her arch stiffened and lip curled.
Buck stopped, and Nieema roared. Panting, she pulled his braid and cursed.
“You had better have a good reason, fairy boy!”
He only laughed and stood, taking her with him. Leaving her no room to complain, Buck hoisted Nieema high and flipped her ass.
Nieema cackled as she dangled upside down. This woman loved her some vertical sixty-nine, and once she got to sucking, so did Buck. With her pussy at home on his tongue and thighs framing his face, he lapped with fierce edge.
Nieema’s nectar turned a decent fae feral. As her soul mate, fated, and begging fool, he dove headfirst. And his queen was no slouch, taking him deep.
Buck stumbled and leaned against wet tile, locking himself in place. He lashed at her clit and drank from her blessed fount.
Nieema coughed and cussed. “Ooooo shit! Bite it, baby! Bite—“
Buck tensed as she swallowed him down from root to stem. There was nothing left to do but deep throat.
He came up for air and shouted to the Goddess. His eyes rolled as Nieema sucked him down and continued, nuts and all. Her jaw unhinged, and she devoured.
Claimed and choked.
“Youuuuu devilish slut!” Buck roared. He growled, thrusts meeting her sinful rhythm.
“I’mmmm—ooweeeee…” Needing to shatter and release, Buck screwed his eyes shut and penetrated her with his thickening tongue. The pierced muscle caused her majesty to squirm and writhe, body slick and plush.
Buck tightened his hold and fucked his beloved in quickened fashion. He curled the tip and twirled, twisted, tasted.
She moaned and bobbed, using that neck for the greater good. Sweat and water collected between them, dripping from toes and nipples.
Nieema clung to him, scoring his thighs. Buck grunted and lavished her with his love. Nieema pumped and rolled as he punched. Their shared desire and passion coalesced and seeped through bone.
It pooled in the marrow and heated, setting his soul to a rolling boil.
Buck clutched her ass and drove his tongue deeper. He was set to tear this woman apart until she bit down and let him loose. His spine steeled, and thighs burned with the effort to remain standing.
His fight and refusal to fold were futile. Nieema pulled an orgasm from the body, leaving him for dead. Euphoria sprouted from every cell and limb, enveloping him completely. She wrenched it from the root, and he attacked her gushing pussy without delay.
The woman howled as Buck lost the use of his legs. They’d turned to moss and were unable to bear his weight. Before his ass collided with the floor, Nieema belted his name and flexed them vampire skills by righting herself in half a second.
When his behind greeted wet tile, Buck laughed, allowing his queen to straddle.
“You ain’t tired?!” Nieema kissed his neck and cupped his stiffening dick. “Damn woman, you gon’ put me in the coffin one day.”
“And I will be right there with you, old dog.”
They shared a bout of laughter and reconnected. No matter the time, day, or year, there’d never come a moment when Buck Sunside would ever get enough. She was the mother of his children, the beat of his heart, and the rich soil nourishing his soul. .

“You can take it, darlin’.” Buck put his weight on Nieema, stealing her will to breathe. “Yeeeeah. That’s it. You like it heavy!” Buck growled as the missus moaned.
“I dooooo. Ohh—Bu—uck! There, baby. Right theeerrre.”
He focused on her sweet spot and she whimpered as bones popped.
“Yes,” Nieema groaned. “Crack my shit, baby. Stomp on that bitch! I said harder, old man.”
“I’m doing it.”
“You ain’t.”
Buck rolled his eyes and stepped on her spine. She hollered in pleasure. “A vampire your age shouldn’t have back problems or any physical ailments at all. Them babies fucked you up, darlin’.”
“Yeah! And who put them, babies in there?”
An ugly belly laugh bubbled up from Buck’s gut as he stamped on his wife’s back.
Buck spent twenty minutes, once a week stepping on Nieema’s spine. Most vampires who conceived had some small physical issue. Pregnancy was hard even on immortal folk and orcs alike.
“And I’ll do it again,” Buck vowed.
“I know that’s right,” Nieema said, hands tucked under her chin. “Fill me up, daddy!”
“Nasty mouth.”
They laughed as Buck continued his business of jumping on her. She was a sturdy gal and loved about three or four hops. When something popped, she moaned once more.
“Darlin,” Buck started, pressing the ball of his foot into her shoulder, “you heard from Jasper yet?”
“Uhhhm. No.”
“She ain’t come out the house yet, and I’m getting worried.”
“Buckley, we don’t know her well. Maybe she’s a homebody.”
“I mean, yeah, but after the other night she disappeared.”
“Hm. Weirrrd.”
Buck paused and squinted. Her response was short and squeaky.
“Nieema Desiree Falerie Sunside, what did you do?”
“Why do I gotta do something?”
“‘Cause you did.”
“You don’t know shit.”
She didn’t even look up at him. The betrayal. Buck cussed, lowering to the floor. He joined Nieema and lay on her body. She was more comfortable than hardwood. Though his wood was now pressed into her dimpled ass. Buck ignored the tempting juggle and cushion for the moment.
“Nieema.”
The woman smacked her teeth and said, “We were having such a good time, and I figured—she was into it and me. Jasper was interested, earnest, and assertive. She gave proper consent and everything.”
“You did not.”
“Shit, she was quick putting a hand down my pants, and I wanted to taste her. So, you know, naturally, we ended up downstairs. After our climax, she vanished. I think I spooked her.”
Buck knew it had something to do with sex. Nieema was an intense, impulsive vampire with a high sex drive. He’d been dealing with her pangs for a hundred years. They had their ways and proclivities as a couple, but Buck didn’t always think with his dick.
True, he wanted to make it flex with Jasper. Cut the demon down for about an hour or so, but he had a feeling she wasn’t ready.
“Nieema, baby. Why you have to go and do that?” Buck rolled off of his wife and eyed her. The woman knew better than to meet his stare and didn’t. “She was celibate. You heard her just fine.”
“Yes, but you weren’t there. Jasper was about to take lead on the matter. I had to calm her down, shit. That’s not how this show go. Not yet, at least. That woman was on fire. Just sick about it, baby.”
He stood and marched on over to Nieema’s vanity. He snagged the scissors, pulled the chair, and short whistled. She rose with vampire agility, defying gravity as if it didn’t exist. After sprinting over, she sidled up, and sat down.
Buck snagged a twenty-four-inch braid and snipped the end. With practiced ease, he unraveled and loosened the thick strand.
“I know how you feel about wanting to bed her down, but I think, you jumped it.” He discarded the hair into the plastic bag that waited in Nieema’s lap while she mumbled curses. The old woman knew she was wrong, so he didn’t have to say it. “Sweetpea, Jasper moved out here to get away from drama.”
“And we ain’t bringing none to her.”
“Maybe to you this ain’t drama, but for her, it could be a lot.”
“I thought you were in a hurry, Buckley. You the one making bets and shit.”
“That was for a nice dinner, not no thick dick!”
“Well, that’s what I thought.”
“Of course you did, freaky.”
Nieema chuckled, clipping the ends of a braid. They used the next ten minutes to take down her hair with normal chit chat about the family. Norma was on her way, Mace was in marriage troubles, and Trey had another baby on the way with his ex-wife. That was some mess for your ass, but that was his life. Couldn’t tell him or them anything.
Buck tried to steer their babies and grand babies right, but after a certain age, there wasn‘t no changing their minds.
“Jo tell you Trevor wants to press charges?” Buck asked, raising a brow.
“I know he does.”
“That was a love tap! Pussy.”
“I doubt it.”
“Who side is you on?” Buck asked, checking the wife’s reflection, making her giggle. “Mhm. See what I get? Disrespect.”
“That man got what’s coming to him,” Nieema said, pulling free another blue strip of hair. “Monroe is in Misthill now. He can’t seem to get an appointment with the Mayor. He’s indisposed. I sent him a summons.”
“Mm. Had to put on the crown, huh?”
“Unfortunately.”
“At least you look good wearing it.” She smiled, and Buck kissed her thick, natural mane. “I’m sure we’ll get this settled nice and easy.”
“The Voaremonts aren’t known for rolling over, Buck.”
“We ain’t either.”
“I know that’s right.”
After cutting a few more ends, he loosened braids as Nieema breached the Jasper subject yet again.
“I gave her a job at the shop.”
“I mean, we need the help, but do you think she’ll be okay? I still don’t wanna let her outta my sight.”
“I told Maggie about it,” Nieema reassured. “She’s willing to charm the store.”
“That’s quick thinking, my love. On your toes!”
“Aren’t I always?”
Buck barked in laughter and trashed his last batch of hair. “Hell nah.”
“I know you better hush.”
“What? I’m supposed to lie? You said there ain’t to be no lies or secrets between us. I will hold to the vow we made allllll them manymanymany years ago. I know you probably don’t remember. Senile self. We gotta get you to bed, it’s late, Grandma!”
“Shhuuut uuuup.” She cackled right along with Buck. “And it’s you who gon’ put me to bed.”
“Damn skippy!”
As always, Nieema and Buck found solace in each other. There wasn’t a quiet, dull moment between them. After decades, ten and some change, they’d become the best of friends. Marrying the person who made him laugh was the best decision of his life.
The night they’d met, he’d made her chuckle and vice versa. Within hours, Buck had become enamored with some Ravensguard soldier he was likely to never see again.
After a passionate day in bed, Buck had said goodbye. He promised to find her someday.
Turns out he didn’t have to look hard, because ten years later, Nieema showed up at the tavern wearing his favorite smile.
“Ooooooo baaaaby, listen!” Nieema relaxed as Buck scratched her scalp. He focused on the middle of her head and the kitchen, just how Mrs. Sunside liked it. “You know how to use them hands… mmmm, yes you do. Little to the left, litt—ooop!”
Buck cackled and carried on with their routine, which led to the bathroom. These times, the few they shared with such busy lives and a large family, he cherished. They were his priority. Taking care of his dame wasn’t always top of mind. Buck regretted them days, when he didn’t put Nieema first. She belonged on the pedestal he’d built only for her.
After washing, rinsing, and stripping down to nothing, he covered Nieema’s conditioner-soaked tresses with an extra-large shower cap.
“Thereeee you go.” Buck popped the elastic, and Nieema flinched. “Now come here and get what’s coming to ya.”
She giggled as Buck plucked her plush behind off the tile and carried her right on into the shower stall.
Steam laced with lavender and chamomile soothed the mind while Nieema’s lips roused every nerve.
Scolding hot water pelted his back and cascaded, dripping from his tight braid. With little finesse and impatience, Buck set his woman on a stone bench and loomed.
“Well,” Nieema prompted, “go on and satisfy your vicious sweet tooth.”
Her crimson stare provoked several emotions. Buck had never been one to beg or snivel for pussy. That was until he’d met Nieema. He’d snuff the sun if it’d bring this woman peace. He’d vanquish all evil and become the worst version of himself if it pleased his queen.
Nieema spread her delicious thighs and blessed him. Plump and glistening, her southern lips beckoned a motha fucka. She wept for a kiss, and he’d never deny Nieema a thing in this world.
Buck’s knees gave as he was enchanted by velvety brown softness and glittering blush pink. Nieema presented herself and dipped a finger between what he knew to be sopping wet walls.
Buck growled and bristled, snatching her hand away.
“Hands off my goods, old woman.”
She laughed and undulated, cupping her buxom bosom. Nieema’s scent drew him closer.
Buck kissed her flesh, and she hissed. He sniffed and grunted, growling as the beast within longed to devour.
Her wetness coated his lips as he circled her large clit with his nose. His wife was insecure about her precious rosebud. For a time, she hated how it protruded and swelled with her arousal. It took time, care, and reassurance.
Buck loved to suck and tease her large clit.
“Mmmm,” Nieema moaned with every kiss and nuzzle. “Babbbee, pleaaase.”
“You so fuckin’ wet, woman.” Buck clutched his dick and flicked her with the tip of his pierced tongue. “I need another batch for my tea. I’m almost out.”
“You know what you gotta do.”
He responded by suckling her button and mashing his god damn face into her pussy. Buck worked her clit. Around and around while Nieema rocked slowly. She sang his favorite melody and melted with every lazy lave and lap. He sipped from her with gladness and appreciation.
Buck swallowed her rich decadence and vowed once again to be her last devotee. If there was no one left to bow, he’d be the queen’s final hand to bend the knee. If there were none to adore her, he’d be there to shower her in affection. He’d be the last to obey the Ravensguard queen. His final breath would be that of dedication! Of his love, in this life and the next. Until the goddess called him to the Soil of Soul Buck promised to stand tall at Nieema’s side.
Mating be damneed. In truth, he didn’t need it. His lifeblood was hers the second they spoke.
“Oooo shit!” Nieema keened. “You like how I taste, love?”
He responded by gripping her hips. Buck yanked Nieema forward and gorged on his favorite meal of the night until she thrashed, on the cusp.
It was in the tremble of her words and curl of her chubby toes.
Buck studied her body, inside and out. Her arch stiffened and lip curled.
Buck stopped, and Nieema roared. Panting, she pulled his braid and cursed.
“You had better have a good reason, fairy boy!”
He only laughed and stood, taking her with him. Leaving her no room to complain, Buck hoisted Nieema high and flipped her ass.
Nieema cackled as she dangled upside down. This woman loved her some vertical sixty-nine, and once she got to sucking, so did Buck. With her pussy at home on his tongue and thighs framing his face, he lapped with fierce edge.
Nieema’s nectar turned a decent fae feral. As her soul mate, fated, and begging fool, he dove headfirst. And his queen was no slouch, taking him deep.
Buck stumbled and leaned against wet tile, locking himself in place. He lashed at her clit and drank from her blessed fount.
Nieema coughed and cussed. “Ooooo shit! Bite it, baby! Bite—“
Buck tensed as she swallowed him down from root to stem. There was nothing left to do but deep throat.
He came up for air and shouted to the Goddess. His eyes rolled as Nieema sucked him down and continued, nuts and all. Her jaw unhinged, and she devoured.
Claimed and choked.
“Youuuuu devilish slut!” Buck roared. He growled, thrusts meeting her sinful rhythm.
“I’mmmm—ooweeeee…” Needing to shatter and release, Buck screwed his eyes shut and penetrated her with his thickening tongue. The pierced muscle caused her majesty to squirm and writhe, body slick and plush.
Buck tightened his hold and fucked his beloved in quickened fashion. He curled the tip and twirled, twisted, tasted.
She moaned and bobbed, using that neck for the greater good. Sweat and water collected between them, dripping from toes and nipples.
Nieema clung to him, scoring his thighs. Buck grunted and lavished her with his love. Nieema pumped and rolled as he punched. Their shared desire and passion coalesced and seeped through bone.
It pooled in the marrow and heated, setting his soul to a rolling boil.
Buck clutched her ass and drove his tongue deeper. He was set to tear this woman apart until she bit down and let him loose. His spine steeled, and thighs burned with the effort to remain standing.
His fight and refusal to fold were futile. Nieema pulled an orgasm from the body, leaving him for dead. Euphoria sprouted from every cell and limb, enveloping him completely. She wrenched it from the root, and he attacked her gushing pussy without delay.
The woman howled as Buck lost the use of his legs. They’d turned to moss and were unable to bear his weight. Before his ass collided with the floor, Nieema belted his name and flexed them vampire skills by righting herself in half a second.
When his behind greeted wet tile, Buck laughed, allowing his queen to straddle.
“You ain’t tired?!” Nieema kissed his neck and cupped his stiffening dick. “Damn woman, you gon’ put me in the coffin one day.”
“And I will be right there with you, old dog.”
They shared a bout of laughter and reconnected. No matter the time, day, or year, there’d never come a moment when Buck Sunside would ever get enough. She was the mother of his children, the beat of his heart, and the rich soil nourishing his soul.

Chapter 9: Fairy Friends

Kit

“A quart of beef stock? What in the Undervell is that?” Kit read the recipe for a common stew and was confounded by three ingredients. “Stock, corn starch, and russet potatoes…Perhaps I can research each ingri—“
“Or,” Julep shouted from his post on the windowsill. “Forgive me because this is a crazy idea, but how about you ask someone!? Maybe Nieema. I like her. She’s vampyre and quite sensual. If I weren’t cursed to hold this feline form I’d make her mine.”
“She is betrothed you whore.”
“Semantics.” Julep’s tail flicked and rolled as he watched chickens peck the soil searching for grubs. He was intent on killing them for how they’d treated Kit earlier. “My suggestion stands. Ask her. Land dwellers seem amiable and dare I say, kind. Encouraging even. I hate them.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Kit removed his apron, hung it on a hook shaped like a kind of nut, and grabbed his journal. He stopped to boop Julep’s nose. The testy cat hissed and tried to fight him off.
“I hope to have lunch, supper, what have you, at least started before we leave. I’m rather excited about this demolition business.”
“Yes, you ache for violence.” Julep lapped at a paw and brushed it over his ear. “You and I are such alike it scares me at times. Say, on your return would it be alright if I took a walk?”
“Why?”
“I’m bored.”
Kit blinked at his friend, who stared with indifference.
“Julep, you are a liar. You bring me rodents when I’ve expressed how foul they are. You tell me they attack you. Lie. You leave refuse in my bed and say you were ‘sleep shitting’. Lie. Youuu, want at the chickens.”
“I do not!”
“I counted fifteen hens. And I will come back to the same amount or I’ll give you a bath then fit you with a leash!”
Julep hissed once more and lunged at Kit. The bastard took chase and clawed at his ankles.
“You’ll bleed, demon! If you even dare, I’ll fill your shoes with mice!”
Kit yanked open the front door, and Julep escaped in skittish, feline fashion. “You had better run, petulant beast!”
The sun shone in a clear blue sky and mammals bleated. One could say it was a lovely day if not for a seething gentleman blocking the exit.
“Ah, you,” Kit intoned.
“Yeah. Me. I know you touched my eggs.”
“Were those your eggs?” Steeling his spine, Kit sneered. “I didn’t know. I was sure they belonged to the chickens that laid them.”
“Don’t get smart with me, jack!”
“My name isn’t Jack, it’s Kit.”
“Don’t you ever go digging for my eggs.”
Kit growled as Hank’s red eyes sparked. He was within range to catch his death. Clove and bergamot swirled about. The scent was oddly comforting and contradictory of his boorish behavior.
“They are everywhere!” Kit pronounced, holding his ground.
“I don’t give a shit, they’re mine.”
“Surely you’re not using all of them.”
“I am.”
“Liar!”
Hank hissed like the uncouth cave dweller he was and begged for a fight. Kit was born for battle, molded by it. He’d won many wars and made a name for himself. In Undervell, he’d have ripped Hank’s tongue out, pureed it, then spoon-fed him the mush with glee. But this was Indigo Plains, Ravensguard territory.
He did not need to kill this man.
Done with the whole conversation and Hank’s dewy complexion Kit stomped across the porch.
“I have nothing more to—“
“Don’t you walk away from me! I ain’t done. Don’t bother my chickens or my eggs, do you hear me?”
Hank blocked Kit’s path for the second time.
“Get out of my way or I will be forced to cause bodily harm.”
“There you go, threatenin’ me again.” Hank huffed and hiked up his trousers. “You sho’ you wanna ride this stallion, boy.”
“I’m sure Granny not gonna like you pestering her guest.”
The disembodied voice turned Kit around. There, on the overhang, sat a fellow with magenta locs and a bag of crisps. His legs dangled as he smiled and looked to the sky.
“This guest is too god damn nosy!”
“And you too grumpy,” the roof-sitter claimed.
“Indeed.”
“You hush,” Hank grumbled.
Kit pivoted and faced his nemesis. “You have no authority here. Good day.”
“You heard him, Hank. Get goin’.”
“Jo, I wann’t talking to you.”
“You know I do not give a fuck. I will tell Granny.”
Hank resigned and mumbled expletives on his trip down the stone path. With the cantankerous vampire on his way, Kit watched him go. He was a brute with the stature to match.
“Whyyyy, are you on the roof?” Kit asked.
“I was bored, didn’t have nothin’ pressing to do so I figured why not say hi.”
“Hello.”
“Where were you goin’?”
Kit shifted his gaze up and over. “To ask your grandmother a question. Nieema, right?”
“Mhm. Yeah. But she ain’t up yet. ‘Bout another two hours.”
“I’ll wait. But, again, why are you sitting on th—“
Jo laughed, swinging his legs. “’Cus it’s the best place to think. Where you do your best thinking?”
“In the bath.”
“I can see that.”
Kit yelped, clutched his journal, and slid from the landing zone. Jo had jumped from the roof and touched down with unnatural agility. He was rangy and wolfish. His smile remained, showcasing more than several fangs. Kit was unsettled by his friendliness and pointed features.
He’d never seen such a thing.
“You have quite the pair of wings,” Kit said, noticing the subtle twitch and flit. “Your grandmother is a vampire, no? As would be your mother or fat—“
Jo stuffed an orange colored crisp into his mouth and said, “We all mixed up ‘round here. My Mama wasn’t even all vampire. The only one who is, is Granny. My Mama is only half. I got fairy blood mostly. As you can tell from the lifts.”
“Lifts?”
“Another word for wings.” Jo looked to the winding walkway and laughed for whatever reason. “You wanna come with me somewhere?”
“Where?”
“To see a witch.”
“Yes!” Kit gasped. “Let me get my satchel first.”
After running inside for his bag, he filled it with his journal, a bottle of water, and two cashew butter and blackberry jam sandwiches. “I’m set.”
“Why you look like a hobbit on their first adventure?”
“A whaaat?”
“You got the sweater, purse, and hairy hooves.”
“What is a—“
Jo cackled and started their pleasant journey through the field. It was hard to believe this entire stretch of land belonged to a single family. Of course, Carriont owned a manor with thirty-five rooms, a botanical garden, and an amphitheater but to Kit, it felt more like a soggy shoe box.
“Who was the fairy?” Kit asked.
“My dad. He still in Lightbridge. The classless fuck. Got my mama pregnant and bought her a train ticket home. Fairies don’t much like melting pots if you know what I mean.”
“I do not, unfortunately.”
Jo smiled and dragged his feet, the strange coverings slapped the ground in annoying succession. They were hardly useful with the bit of plastic between his toes. Kit shuddered at the sight. Five digit freaks.
“Most folks up north in fairy land don’t mess with vampires.”
“Ahhh, I understand. In Undervell, many don’t like sleep paralysis demons. My father calls them ruffians. The general population ignores them. They’re labeled lazy trash by the media.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“I suppose, in a sense.”
Kit kept a wary eye on the woods. He’d kill a lion and make quick use of its hide. If one even dared try a surprise attack, he’d throttle them.
“Are their lions here?”
“Lions? What, like Simba?”
“Who?”
“Damn, what y’all be watching in hell?”
“Lions, you know? Big golden cats with impressive claws and—“
“Oohhhh, shit!” Jo laughed, and his wings fluttered. “Noooo, no. We don’t got them here. That’s like down south, across Pearl Gulf. Nahhh. No lions. But we do got like, Ore bears, bear shifters, Burling bears, Dust peckers, Harpies, and uhhh spiders. Them big ones.”
“I saw one.”
“Whaaaaat? And you still breathin’?”
Jo tsked and crumpled the empty crisp bag. He slipped it into the pocket of his checkered shorts and smirked. “You’re a bad, bad man, Kit.”
“I was shoved into a closet. I didn’t even get to fight.”
“Ohhh, you know what? Grandaddy said something about that.”
“I’m sure.”
If Jo never spoke, one might be frightened of the young man. He was covered in tribal ink, draped in gold jewelry, and his claws were the darkest shade of red Kit had ever seen. As if he’d dipped them in blood. The color faded at his third knuckle, where an amber, sun-drenched brown shimmered.
Faeries were hideous creatures.
“I’m quite excited to meet a witch,” Kit said.
“You ain’t never seen one?”
“No, never.”
“My grandpa was a witch. Warlock, really. It’s why I got magic in my bones.”
“Sooo, you’re the Sunsides, great grandson.”
“Mhm. Yup.”
“Where’s the rest of your family?”
“Hell if I know.” Jo shrugged and waved at the sheep. The poor devil was insane. “Not everybody set up for town living, and most don’t wanna die here.”
“What nonsense. Indigo Plains is magnificent!” Kit inhaled a deep breath, enjoying the outdoor stench. “It smells terrible, but even I see the beauty here. It’s peaceful and bright. Magical. After sunset, the moon casts an incredible light upon this land. I didn’t want to come here. I mean, I did. But not this soon, and certainly not under these circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
Kit stopped himself from saying too much. He still had six days to get Jasper home and he was no closer than he had been hours ago.
“My sister, I came to help her with the dire living situation when we were attacked by the spider beast.”
“Riiiiight, right.”
“Young man—“
“Whoa, I’m forty-five.”
“I have trousers older than you.”
The fairy laughed again and shoved Kit’s shoulder. He stumbled into the grass and tried to hold his own chuckle, but failed. They followed the path for another thirty minutes. During such time, the loquacious Jo had stated facts and opinions. He tossed rocks, twirled sticks, and skipped along.
Every so often, Jo stopped to speak with sheep and a huge fucking blue goat with an immaculate set of horns. In that moment, Kit wished he hadn’t shaved his.
He touched the bumpy, raised edge in need of a touch-up and sighed. The Duke had said wild horns were improper for a general with status.
“Why are we going into the wood?” Kit asked, stopping in his tracks.
“This ain’t no forest. Calm down.”
“Woods.” Kit looked from the snaking road to an amused Jo. The damned stones vanished into a void.
Twisting the strap on his bag, Kit took a step back. “I can’t.”
“I told you it’s not a forest, woods, whatever.”
“Not the same thing.”
“This, is a garden.”
Kit scowled. “A garden?”
“Yeah, swear it on my Mama’s heart. Maggie keeps plants and shit like Papa Buck.”
“Wait, he has a garden?”
“Yeah. You saw it on the tour.”
“The greenhouse is his?”
Jo nodded and waved a hand. “Let’s goooo. Got things to do, geezer.”
“What’s a geezer?”
Jo giggled and extended a palm. Kit stared at it, not knowing what to do. “What would you like from me?”
“You somethin’ else, demon man.”
Kit flinched as Jo snatched his hand and gripped it with cold fingers. It’d been a while since anyone other than Jasper had touched him. Shocking and strange as it was, Kit needed the support as they inched forward.
It was fact, he’d led an entire army into battle sixty-four times and had the scars to prove it. Yes, he was known as General Raze the Great Impaler and yes, he saved all of Undervell four years ago, but by gods, the woods turned him into a hatchling. A cowering wee thing on the verge of pissing themselves.
His heart thudded. He couldn’t hear Jo’s prattle over his own chattering teeth. Towering trunks and creaking boughs. They were going to eat him alive! Swallow him whole and dine on his entrails!
A golden light bobbed, causing a brief distraction. Kit sucked in a breath as the tiny being landed on the tip of his nose.
“What—“ The insect buzzed away and Kit tracked its winding movement until it perched atop a luminous flower. “Oh my, it is a garden.”
Flanking their path was an unfathomable amount of blossoms, bushes, and vines. He didn’t know what any of them were called and dared not ask. Miniature winged insects fluttered about while frogs lazed on lily pads in a nearby pond. Sculptures, fountains, and sitting areas gave the area personality.
“Yeah,” Jo said, sighing. “She’s a pack rat. Like, bad. Almost bad as Old Man Joyner. I been telling her they’d make a nice couple.”
“I don’t know what a pack rat is, but it sounds lovely.”
Jo snickered and knocked on a pink oval door. He released his hold and hugged a portly woman with coral-hued curls. Kit appreciated her bespangled hair, studded with beads, both colorful and dissimilar.
“Come, my boy, come. And you’ve brought a friend! Welcome, Kit.”
“You know my name? We have never met how—“
“I know everything that happens on this ranch. I’m Maggie, honey. Now come inside so I can feed you.”
He smiled on a nod and entered the witch’s home. It was a storybook cottage and smelled of freshly baked bread. Kit was pretty good with flour and yeast as well. Though no one had ever tried his loaves except for Jasper.
Herbs hung from the ceiling and above the wood-burning stove. Jars, tea cups, and pottery cluttered every surface. Bowls of fruit and veggies straddled a large tome. Kit was awestruck. Her home was everything he figured it to be. Witches weren’t the neatest bunch. They had spells to complete, wards to cast, and medicine bags to fill. He’d done research on them, too.
Kit had been fascinated with witchcraft its wielders for many years. Powerful beings who pulled words from a page with intention and purpose.
“Sit, sit.”
He obeyed and settled on the sofa next to Jo, who lounged upside down. Feet kicking, he crunched on something and erupted in a squeal of laughter.
“How’s the house business going, Kit?”
“I can’t say. We’re supposed to do the demolition tonight.”
“Yeah, right. Leave it to Grandma Nima. All she wanna do is swing that hammer. There are things you gotta do before the actuarial construction begins. I’m sure Papa Buck is handling it as we speak .”
Kit twisted around to examine the witch. “Are you a relative?”
“I was married to their son, Carter.”
“Was?”
“He caught the travel bug,” Maggie said, cutting into a cake Kit would devour in seconds. “Went off to fight in a war that was no business of ours. Trolls. Quarrelsome. Bah! Anyway, Carter transitioned some twenty years ago. I’m Jo’s grandmother.”
“Ohhh, this is getting rather confusing.”
“I can see how it would. We got ‘bout four generations of Sunsides in this town. Be prepared. Not everyone stayed, but I got more cousins than I can shake a stick at. Here you go, baby.”
Kit hurried to accept the gift of sugar. “Thank you, this looks divine.”
“Divine? You flatter me.”
“Never.”
Maggie blushed and slapped the fairy’s foot. “Jo, sit your behind up. Every which way on my couch. You lost ya mind. Huh.”
“Oooo. Cake!”
Jo hunched over his plate and smiled. “Grandma, is there extra raisins in it?”
“You damn skippy.”
“Mmmm. Carrot cake is the only cake I eat.”
Kit didn’t know what carrot cake was, but the moment bits of carrot, dried fruit, and cinnamon greeted his tongue,e he understood Jo’s comment. It was unlike anything Kit had ever tasted. Soft, moist, with a slight crunch.
“What is that toffee-like morsel?! What brand of heaven is this? Ohhh, Maggie, I have been gifted food from a skilled god of fare!”
Maggie exploded in a crackle of giggles and clapped her hands. “Take that Culinary Arts and kiss my Black ass!”
“Yes!” Kit whooped and raised his fork. “Kiss her Black ass Arts of the Culinary.”
Jo hollered in laughter and choked. He hacked while Maggie patted his back. “Slow down, baby. I told you, chew before you swallow. You know, he came out of the womb with a spoon in his hand.”
“Seriously?” Kit gasped, and Maggie waved a hand.
“You’re hilarious. Not many demons are. I like you, Kit.”
He perked at the compliment, as no stranger had said such things to him before. After scraping crumbs, Maggie ordered him to have another slice. Of course, he agreed.
“Jo, you know them Platter boys stole two more pumpkins from Mr. Carol again.”
“Come onnnnn, Grandma no work talk.”
“No, you gotta do somethin’ about ‘em.”
“I already did, I—“
“You gave them a stern talking to. That ain’t gon’ cut it, this is the third time. You know Mr. Carol is getting his patch ready for the fair.”
Jo finished his last bite and groaned aloud. Kit didn’t see what the issue was.
“Are these ruffians?” Kit asked. “Barbarous thieves?”
“They’re teenagers,” Jo said. “Seventeen and eighteen. Kids. They have an obsession with pumpkins. I don’t know.”
“Are you their ward?”
“What? Nah. I’m the Sheriff.”
“And as sheriff,” Maggie piped, braiding strands of ribbon dangling with charms, “its your job to stop crime.”
“I got deputies for that shit.”
“Boy.”
“Sorry, ma’am. But why I gotta do it?”
Maggie hit Jo with a telling side eye, one even Kit evaded by looking at a stack of thick books on the coffee table. Herbs, stones, and trees. He’d love to read each volume for research purposes.
“You wanna go on a ride-along with me tomorrow?” Jo asked.
“A what?”
“Do you want to ride with me while I’m working. Doing boring sheriff stuff.”
“Absolutely! I’d love the chance to dish out laws and orders. And rid Indigo Plains of all tomfoolery.”
Kit waggled his brows and nudged Jo with an elbow. he snickered.
“You not doing none of that. But I love the enthusiasm.”
“Aw.” Kit slouched into the sofa. “Can I at least arrest someone?”
“I can’t remember the last time I arrested somebody. Maybe five years ago?”
“Wait, but you’re a land-dwelling patron of order, as we call those with authority in Undervell, you must detain and judge.”
“Our courthouse is for like, property cases. Civil suits. There’s virtually no crime here.”
“Save for them Platter boys,” Maggie mumbled.
“Grandmaaaaa.”
“How odd. Jasper said crime is a huge issue in the capital.”
“I bet,” Jo chimed. “And Johnny Law makes it worse.”
“How?”
“I don’t got it in me for a talk like that. Grandma, more cake!”
“You want another piece too?”
Kit tapped his lips and scrunched his nose. “Do…uhm…do a pig shit?”
Jo cackled, stomped his feet, and smacked Kit in the arm.
“Lords,” Maggie rolled her eyes and said, “You sound like Buck already.”

Chapter 6: In Which The Past Finds Buck

Buck

Replacing his classic muscle fifty-block with a new age engine powered by magical stones was the smartest shit he’d ever done. Buck arrived at Jack’s Real Estate and Legal Services in three minutes. He’d spent almost an hour arguing with that god damned city man about permits and regulations. It was exhausting when suits only smelled money.
Omari, their eldest son, was fed up with assholes and called his pappy. Buck was happy to play ref and calm the blue-blooded human down. He was lucky town folk had voted on this project, otherwise, they wouldn’t have shit.
Buck didn’t want a three-level shopping monstrosity in their town. It’d be an eyesore and attract trouble.
“Hiya, Buck,” Chelsea sang. Her wings fluttered as he removed his hat. “He’s in the bathroom. Got a little too happy with an eldonberry smoothie. I tried to tell him to take it easy but…”
“Mom, please.” Jack hung his head, fixed the tie, and exhaled a ragged breath. “Come on, Buck. Let’s talk in my office. Ma, hold my calls.”
“I know it.”
Buck tipped his hat, making Chelsea blush. She was a spry woodland fairy and didn’t look a day over sixty-five though pushing four-hundred. She wasn’t in the market for relationships, but he knew how Chelsea liked to dip and dive on it.
“What you call me for, Jack?”
“Close the door, would ya?”
Buck grunted as the latch clicked. “This feel like bad news.”
Jack settled behind the desk, his stained glass wings twitching. He was a handsome fella but off limits given how the wife and Buck nailed his mama to the headboard once —twice—twelve times at least.
He grabbed a seat and waited for some bullshit. Jack tugged on the point of his right ear and rocked in his executive chair.
“I’m coming to you because my mother asked it of me. This ain’t typical. Don’t be thinking that I’m running my mouth about everyone, but I thought you should know, the Palison purchased some land. The Carters’ old farm. As you know, Packard died last year. His kids opted to sell. And…”
“Why ain’t you say no?!” Buck glared at the man. “Why didn’t you just—“
“Just what? Buckley, I have ten kids.”
“We all got kids!”
“I’m the only income my family has. When faeries leave Lightbridge, their is no support for us and—“
“I know. Shit god damn it.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“No. No. Shiland was buried four months ago. I know—I figured—“ Buck cut the commentary and stared at flat, gray carpet. He’d known this day was coming but damn, not this soon. “Thanks for telling me, Jack.”
“Sure thing.”
“Is the deal closed?”
“Not yet, ten days.”
“Got it. Thanks again.”
Buck gripped wood grain and peeled tires out of the parking lot. He would have stayed in the streets longer, but now, he needed a second alone, in his element. Pushing two hundred horses down the strip of road leading back home, he turned up his comfort tunes.
Highway 56 snaked across the continent. From Lightbridge, to Ravensguard, and continuing through Brasshorne. It ended at the tip of the world, Frostwinds Edge.
Four territories with four crowns.
Buck groaned, parked in the garage, and killed the engine. He cleared the vehicle and sneaked through the side door. Left of the detached garage was the wood. A dense thicket holding his past and dearest of memories. Before crossing the tree line, Buck tugged off his boots and t-shirt.
Barefoot and half naked, he entered the dark beyond and whispered hello to the sneaky elm, old oak, and wise willow.
“What in the hell y’all been up to? Boy, do I got some crazy shit to tell you.”

It Feels Sooo Good To Be Baaaack!

Well! What a month March was. First, let me say this: I didn’t intentionally vanish. I lost my ac adapter for my laptop! I had nothing and could do nothing for three whole weeks. And I was miserable. No writing, no posting, nothing. Okay, that’s a lie; I brainstormed and wrote on my phone. Short stories (ones that never see the light of day), but stories I had fun writing.
Anything pertaining to PWAPF or blogs, however, was on hold. Everything is on my computer. With zero storage left on my device, I don’t have IG or WP on it. Obligatory work apps take up a lot of space on my phone. So, I was stuck for weeks and loathed every minute of it. But WE ARE BACK, and I hope to push out a new chapter on Tuesday.

Stop Playing With Romance Readers

These are not recommendations, they aren’t opinions. This is a convention. A tried, true, and CORRECT way of doing things. I know in the writing community we say “break the rules”! But we’re talking about adding more adverbs and gerunds, not BREAKING GENRE VOWS.

Romance has hea. Love story no hea.

A vow is the finding out who the killer is in a whodunit. It’s seeing the creature in a creature feature horror. It’s the hockey player in a hockey romance. It’s an action-adventure WITH action and adventure. The romance vow is a promised and EXPECTED HAPPILY EVER AFTER OR HAPPY FOR NOW. This is non-negotiable. But play with romance readers if you want to. Travel on down the edgelord path and see where it takes you. Good luck, honey. You gon’ need it.

Zombie Bake-Off By Stephen Grahm Jones

Per usual, SGJ delivers gorey vibes, fun, and cringe-worthy scenes! This being my third title by him in under a month, I have something to say about his style. I don’t hate it, in fact, I think it’s great. But! Don’t jump me! I think his horror is kinda cozy. It feels like it’s cozy, dark, fiction instead of straight horror. Granted, I have a lot more to read by SGJ so my opinion might change. For now, yes, it’s cozy and dark.

Now, onto the book! Let me be clear, Movie zombies scare the shit outta me. The idea of zombies is terrifying and I used to love Resident Evil, Doom, and Zombieland. One nightmare changed that for me. Anyway, this is my first zombie novel in fifteen years and I loved it! I think zombie fiction might bring me back to this world. I don’t know, we’ll see.

SGJ is heavy-handed with them icky vibes. I mean the description of brain-eating is ON POINT.

SPOOOOILERS AHEAD!

I enjoyed the characters and their journey. I knew Johnny T. had to go, and after Kent’s confession, I was hoping for him to have his head lopped off.

I wasn’t happy about Tiny Giant! I didn’t want him to turn or die. I screamed, “Nooooo you poor thing! I hate this so much!” But this isn’t a fuzzy found family romance so I was SOL. I wanted a kiss between Xombie and Terry! Again, as someone who reads romance pretty heavily, I needed it! (a me problem) But, I love the pinch of cute we got from them.

That is my one complaint. Other than SGJ breaking my heart with Tiny Ginat, I have NO NOTES! 4.5!

Happy Halloween Boils and Ghouls!!

I am back with my October faves recap! I had quite a time with SGJ as you can see. Since reading Only the Good Indians last month, I have picked up more of his books. I think, from what I’ve read, folks either love his style or they hate it. I am on the love side of things. It’s kinda comforting honestly, to see an author do what the farquad they want I adored It Came From Del Rio immensely, It was compact, dark, and sad as shit. I loved it. The short stories?! I have something to say about them individually, but I’ll save that for another time, y’all.

As you know, my faves list isn’t complete without romance and smut. If you like it, HAY FREEEN. If you don’t, fine but do not judge my taste based on what I choose to read.

Midnight in the Grove is a sexy romp and a sequel. Do not read this cute Black love story if you ain’t read the first.

Last but not least, Horrorstor! Uhmmmmm…yeah, no, I don’t wanna go to an Ikea ever in my life. Grady Hendrix will make light of the most dreary circumstances and think it’s hilarious. I don’t know how many are familiar with Backrooms but Horrstor reminded me of that. And it freaked me the HELL out!