Chapter 16: Futile Efforts

CW: Anxiety from recalling past trauma.

Jasper

“You got one more chance!” Nieema yelled, standing at her husband’s side. “Better make it count.”
They were smug and beautiful. Two masterpieces. Two gods sent to smite Jasper.
A tiebreaker was needed here. Buck was a man about his business and bowled like a professional. Hell, perhaps he was. Jasper wouldn’t know, because she didn’t know them. They were still strangers. Intense and Irresistible strangers who had crept into her dreams.
Jasper exhaled, pinned her sights on the three holes. She hoped upon some magical star and prayed to the undergods. Jasper didn’t want to give him a chance. It was in her nature to be a tease, to poke and knead weaknesses. Anything that delivered optimal nutrition, she went for it.
And the ounce of lust swirling from Buck at the moment made her dizzy. The Sunsides were powerful on their own. As individuals, their potent desires had become a problem within days. Together? Jasper was full. She was satisfied yet, starved for more.
“Get it over with, dear,” Nieema said, her chin too goddamn high.
“Even if I lose, that doesn’t mean you win, Nieema.”
“Take your turn, Jasper,” the vampire demanded.
“Fine.”
Without delay, Jasper plucked her ball and stepped to the line. Neon lights, music, and the smell of food were strong distractions. She shook nerves, cocked back, and released. The heaviest ball weighed nothing as it rolled.
Jasper held her breath and gripped her chains. The orb inched to the right. She cussed as pins teetered, leaned, and toppled.
“Ghat damn!” Buck shouted. “What a game. You played well, girl! I gotta hand it to you.”
Jasper sighed and threw her head back, peering at the ceiling. “I don’t enjoy fancy food.”
He laughed like a man pleased with himself. “Glad we on the same page about that.”
“I tried to tell you,” Roe cut in. “Don’t bet the Sunsides. You didn’t listen. I can’t save you now, child.”
Jasper adored Monroe. He was a suave two-stepper with impeccable fashion sense. There was a frenetic air about him, but she had come to find that it was a vampire thing. They were dark and daring. She liked it on him and Nieema.
Buck, on the other hand, was different. Nieema’s raven-hued soul was threatening, sensuous, and sultry; her betrothed was terrifying. Even as Jasper studied her rainbow polish, his inky gaze seared her flesh.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Roe snapped up his long woolen coat and headed out, “I have a train to catch.”
“You don’t want to get a bite with us?” Jasper asked.
“I eat solids twice a week and never on Fridays. Have a good evenin’, y’all.”
As Monroe hugged his siblings, Jasper went to retrieve her shoes. She didn’t wait around for the couple to gloat. After a quick trade with a fairy named Kay, she slipped into her sandals and headed for the exit.
“Jasper,” Nieema warned. “What did I say earlier?”
“Riiiight, I must stick with my babysitter at all times.”
“It’s for your protection.”
Jasper might have pouted and stomped her foot if not for Buck’s serious tone. They were kind enough to be the barrier between her and Trevor’s crazy ass. It was an undeserved service, and Jasper felt like an asshole for griping.
“This is going to take some getting used to.”
“Understandable,” Nieema said, waiting for her husband to open the door. He did so with a flourish. “This same treatment grated against my hide at one point. So, just know, how you feel is not lost on me. After you.”
Muggy summer air was better than the Sunsides’ shared eau de and fried food. She inhaled a steady breath and exhaled the ounce of lingering irritation.
“Since I get to choose the spot, I want the nearest bar. It’s been a minute since I had a cold one.”
“Perfect!”
Buck clapped once and scanned the parking lot as they started walking. His mood simmered for a tick, fading from a playful rouge to a concerned gray.
“What’s the matter?” Jasper inquired.
“Hm?”
“You’re miffed about something.”
“Tell you after a beer.”
Nieema slapped Buck’s arm. “What in the devil is goin’ on? I could tell the moment we hit the door. You actin’ like you done somethin’, Buckley.”
“Woman—“
“Oh, I just know you ain’t fixin’ to lie to my face.”
“He is.”
Buck recoiled and canted his head. “Damn, I don’t believe she was talking to you, ma’am.”
“I don’t need permission to speak.”
Nieema whooped and nodded. “You’re damn right you don’t. Now come on, I want some wings. Buck, when we sit down, you got ninety seconds to spill them baked beans or swear on D—“
“Okayyy! Hush now, unhinged dame.”
“I’ll show you unhinged, moss balls.”
“Don’t get me started, you vintage bag uh bones. Moss balls? You like to hold these hairy balls in your sleep. That’s weirdo shit, Nieema!”
Jasper chuckled at their delightful and entertaining bicker fest. Buck was always two steps behind Nieema in terms of wit. But he put up a good fight, and the vampire let him win with a stolen kiss. One Nieema tried to dodge. Their sweet nothing and affection were bubbly, refreshing, and easier to digest. Carnal desire and love were a four-course meal. Jasper always needed a nap afterward.
Leaving vehicles behind, they strolled onward, down a busy street. Most waved in passing or tipped hats. Some stopped to talk and introduce themselves. Everyone greeted Nieema in some fashion, and now, Jasper knew why. She was queen of Ravensguard—royalty: a celebrity.
The thought caused Jasper to have a minor panic attack on their way to the nearest dive bar. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek and stifled a groan. Jasper had just escaped a life of status. Twice! She knew what came with the title of queen, king, or noble. It meant traveling, social and class wars. Eyes on you at all times and expectations.
Those surrounding the king must act in a certain manner. Carry themselves differently, speak differently, and look the part of an ass kisser.
In Jasper’s case, she was expected to become a soldier and a concubine until instructed otherwise. Succubi in Undervell were bargaining chips to be won and used. Though, as Carriont’s daughter, she was to be a sword or an object married off to a wealthy demonic sire. Another unfortunate soul who was told when to eat, sleep, and shit!
“Jasper?” Hearing her name required a response. Buck held the door, waiting. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded and cracked his gum. “One thing to know about me? I don’t like liars.”
Jasper snarled and snapped in passing. “I don’t have to express myself to you or anyone else.”
“You right, but you’re under a lot of stress. And to be frank, I like to see you smiling.”
“Why?”
Buck scoffed and headed for Nieema’s table. The tiny booth was tucked into a shady, dim-lit corner. Jasper grew excited by the idea of sloppy wings, a foamy dark lager, and decent music. According to reviews, Mio’s had better fare than Fat’s Tavern. She’d be the judge after a spicy twenty-piece.
On a busy Friday night, the bar and grill was packed. Sports highlights or whatever made fans holler and hackle. The compact dance floor was crowded, and long bar lined with boisterous, happy drinkers.
Jasper settled across from the deviant couple and snatched a happy hour menu. “Wings and something dark sounds nice. I want the extra spicy. Twenty piece. Annnnnd the Muddy Highlands cake. Make that two slices.”
“You tried Fat’s yet?” Buck asked, throwing an arm over Nieema’s head. The tiny woman relaxed into her man’s safe embrace. “They got better wings.”
“They don’t,” Nieema countered.
“We go through this every time, and I’m telling you—“
“You don’t tell me shit, Buck. Now start talking.”
“When can I order?” Jasper asked. Her hollow gut growled as she rubbed it. “I need food, solid food.”
Nieema grinned and said, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, you’re majesty,” Jasper placed the menu in its spot between them and leveled her gaze on Nieema. “My succubus-related hunger pangs have been sated for now.”
“Shit,” Buck whispered, playing with his wife’s neon braids. “Who said you can taste me for free?”
“Buckley.”
“I’m just fooling, beloved.”
He wasn’t joking, and Jasper wasn’t stupid. Buck wouldn’t take cash as payment.
“You know how succubi work, I’m sure.”
“I do.”
Their gazes clashed as tension shifted and coiled. Jasper wouldn’t allow this man to intimidate her, and oh, how he tried. With eyes smoldering, his smile was unkind. Pine and creamy mint percolated.
Buck’s lust replaced booze and cigar smoke. She nipped at it, clamping her legs shut. The sudden swell and deluge between her thighs was unsettling.
Jasper flinched as glasses were planted on the table with an audible thunk.
“Hey there, new girl.” A busty blonde with gleaming brown skin and silver tattoos winked. “How you liking Indigo?”
“It’s lovely.”
She nodded and blew a fat pink bubble. It popped as she yanked a pad from her apron. With no wings, a telling aura, and red eyes, it was safe to say their waitress was a vampire.
“Names Irene.”
“Ja—“
“Jasper, I heard tons ‘bout you already.” Irene glanced at the Sunsides and scrunched her nose. “We ain’t got no double-dip patties, Auntie.”
“Girl, what? How? It ain’t nothing but blood, cornmeal, flour, and spices, how do y’all not got any?“
“Frankie didn’t order the shipment of cornmeal on time.”
“God damn that boy. I come in here for one thing, an—fine, shit. I’ll take braised marrow and fried cabbage.”
Irene wrote everything down and pointed to Buck with her pen. “Them short ribs gon’ be a minute, Unc. It’s Friday. You know how it is up in here.”
“I do. Bring me two baskets of fries and cheese dip.”
“Gotchu. And for you, Red?”
Jasper smiled at a fine woman in tight shorts and a thin tank top. She was tall and thick as hell. It was a wonder how she got those shorts on.
“I’ll take the inferno wings. Twenty. A side of ranch and the darkest beer you got. Chocolate cake, too. Two slices.”
Irene smirked and scribbled. “You sure about them wings? Frankie don’t play. The heat might make you sick.”
“I’m from Undervell, sweets. I’m good with spicy.”
“I heard that.”
Buck cleared his throat, and Irene giggled on the turn around. “Imma be back.”
Jasper propped elbows up on the table and watched her sway. A distinct tapping, like nails on glass, pulled her away from Irene’s assets.
Buck deadpanned and Nieema grimaced. “That’s our niece.”
“I thought calling an elder aunt and uncle was a term of endearment.”
“It is.”
“Then—“
Nieema squinted. “My brother’s daughter.”
Jasper sniffed as the heat upon her cheeks flared. It was a tad foolish, but old habits never die for a succubus. She was always on the go, on the prowl for potential… or used to be. It’d been close to a year since she even touched another person intimately. Of course, she survived on scraps here and there. Meet-ups with no physical contact.
“Sorry about that,” Jasper said, scanning the rustic establishment. “I can’t help myself sometimes.”
“Anyway,” Nieema piped. “Buck, I believe you have something to say.”
“God—okay, alright. Fine.” The mysterious fae removed the hat and smoothed his hair down. “I spoke to Trevor.”
Jasper winced, hearing his name. She flushed as fear tackled her. “What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“Oh, well, I punched him in his liver. It’s hard to talk with a low-blow like’at.” Buck snagged his beer and peered over the rim. “I can’t help myself sometimes.”
Floored and rendered speechless yet again, Jasper stared at the dark man. Her motor functions sputtered and squealed. She didn’t know what to say to Buck. He’d come to her defense without hesitation. What the fuck was she to do now, with her soaked panties and hammering heart?

And there you have it, another chapter DONE! What do you think is going through Jasper’s mind? She’s never actually had a partner stand up for her like that. Her siblings? Sure. Father? Meh, not when it counted. The thing is, Buck is about his business, as we have seen in the last chapter. He’s got guts and spine. That man ain’t scared of anyone, and now Jasper knows it. The monster under her bed, waiting in her closet, isn’t so big or bad after all, Buck proved it. For Jasper, what he did spoke volumes. She’s befuddled and maybe a little turned on at this point and can’t find her tongue… until the chapter. Once again, I want to thank you all for reading my web novel! You don’t have to, but you do, and every read means the world to me. Have a wonderful day!

Chapter 14: The Raven Queen

CW: Talk of domestic violence and attempted murder. There is a little rehashing, but not much. As always, if you have to skip this bit, please do. If you’d like a summary , feel free to let me know,

Nieema

Catching Monroe Thornbill with his pants down wasn’t new. Nieema didn’t bat an eye as his favorite piece of arm candy hurried from their spot between his legs and scrambled to their feet.
Nila was a whip-thin young vampire who smelled like vanilla bean and clove. Cheeks flush and lips glistening, they squared broad shoulders then bowed.
“Majesty.”
“Nila honey, how’s your mother?”
“In good spirits… considering.”
“Send my love.”
“I will.”
With that, they scurried off and closed the door behind them. A muffled thud gave Nieema the go-ahead.
“You ain’t working too hard, I see.”
“Girl, you know the shit I deal with down here. Please. I need something to take the edge off.”
“You’re supposed to be working, not getting head on the clock like some raggedy, uncouth dungeon troll! I aughta tear your hide, Monroe.”
The male scoffed and flipped his apricot, hip-length tresses. The boujee knowitall kept his hair flat and straight like an uppity Lightbridge faerie trollop. Nieema hated how the lovely shade made his dark skin glow. She’d never get away with orange. Copper, hell yeah. Clementine? Never.
The man was prettier than she but not too bright. That’s why she was queen; Monroe being ten years older didn’t mean shit to their daddy.
“Yeeees, I’ve missed you too, Nimmy. How are you? How is Buck? It’s been a while.”
She softened hearing her nickname. “I’m serious, Roe, what kinda example are you setting?“
“Please, Mother lectures me enough.” He smoothed lapels and scooted forward, focusing on what appeared to be blueprints. “I don’t need this shit from you, too. Besides domestic quarrels, drunken fights, and blood lust fever, I have nothing else to do. We are good down here, Nimmy. I got shit covered.”
“And what about beyond these walls?”
Monroe’s brows creased as he pinned a quizzical gaze upon her. “What about it?”
“There are demon hunters on the loose in Misthill.”
“Bullshit!”
“I wish it was.”
Roe’s derisive laughter was a joy to hear. It meant he was now in a foul mood, and given how his red eyes flared, someone would pay for their crimes.
“Do we have proof?” Roe asked.
“A witness, first-hand account.”
Nieema gestured to Jasper, and Roe glanced in her direction. He wasn’t the sort to know or keep demonic friends. Being burned rather badly by one turned him off completely, and every demon wore the face of his greatest regret. Nieema expected Roe to bristle at the sight of Jasper’s smile, but the exact opposite happened.
He smirked and spoke directly to a demon for the first time in probably fifteen years.
“RedMothStitch.”
“Oh my goood,” Jasper whispered, eyes now on the floor.
“Red what?”
“She’s a gamer,” Roe supplied, still smirking. “My son follows you.”
“You are?” Nieema asked.
As Jasper’s cheeks darkened, she twiddled with her necklaces. Nieema wanted to soothe her somehow. She was an anxious dame, and for good reason.
“Sometimes. It’s nothing big. A hobby. I only have two hundred followers and haven’t streamed since… well, you know.”
“I’ve seen your tips, Red Stitch.”
“I collect coin easy cause I’m pretty.”
Roe’s arched brow spoke to his amusement. Nieema grunted, unwilling to watch him reel Jasper in.
“We need to talk about this hunting business, Monroe.”
“Indeed.”
Nieema crossed the expansive office any staunch bureaucratic snake would love and dropped anchor on an uncomfortable leather sofa. Roe had old-world tastes, habits, and desires. He was obsessed with crystal decanters, aged scotch, and oil paintings. He didn’t own a phone or a television.
Roe still read the paper and loved classical music. He was stuck in the past, but refused to ride a horse.
As Jasper settled next to her, Monroe offered Nieema a warm glass of spiced blood.
“Thank youuuu. This the cinnamon one?” Nieema asked, scenting clove, cardamom, and luxe spice.
“Of course, imported from Southern Bruex.”
“Ohhhh, them desert fairies know how to blend, don’t they?”
“Always.”
Roe sat in his favorite high-backed chair with its worn cushions and scratched frame, swirling his glass.
“I apologize, ma’am. All I got is blood.”
“It’s fine. But I prefer Jasper over ma’am.”
“Noted.” Nieema sipped while Roe relaxed and Jasper fidgeted with her skirt. “So, tell me, what exactly happened and who tried to kill you?”
By the time Jasper finished talking, Nieema wanted his head. Trevor Voarmont was a piece of shit. A controlling, manipulative bastard. In her sleep. He’d tried to snuff her flame during a peaceful slumber. How cruel and cowardly. The only reason Jasper survived was due to her biology. The human hadn’t worn his protection charm that night, and Jasper had careened into survival mode.
After kicking his ass and scarring him for life, she vanished in a puff of smoke. This unique, involuntary fleeing response saved Jasper’s life.
Nieema stared at the raging fire nestled into a massive hearth. It was for aesthetic purposes only, lacking both heat and sound. Seemed harmless in such a cozy state. Some folks might think it was now safe to touch. Wrong! Complacency was a disease. For many moons, people like Trevor watched their step around Nieema. They respected her rule and dared not cross Her Majesty The Raven Queen. But time and shit had softened her a bit.
She didn’t wear armor, a cape, or wield a flaming axe anymore, but Nieema was still a fucking threat. As always, they’d learn the hard way.
“Nimmy, this is… sensitive. As you know, the Voaremonts are not your everyday citizens. They have connections from here to Brasshorne. They own the largest shipping company in the world.”
“They own half the rail line, too,” Jasper added. “This is why I just said fuck it. Trevor is the youngest of five brothers, but he is the smartest. His father won’t allow him to be—“
“No one allows me to do anything, my dear,” Nieema asserted. She dragged attention from Jasper to Roe.
“I don’t give a right fuck who they are, what they own, or who is in their pocket. I am the queen of Ravensguard, and when I declare law, I expect all to follow. It is in our Right of Life creed. No one is to hunt on Ravensguard soil, ever. If convicted, it is punishable by death. Without exception.”
White hot fury boiled in her veins and forced Nieema to her feet. She slammed her glass on the mantle, fixed her tie, and growled. The thought of anyone bearing arms and hunting turned her ferak, foregoing civility,
More often than not, Nieema ruled from afar. She didn’t meddle in her people’s business and gave them the freedom to be whomever they wanted to be. She kept them fed and healthy. It was stressful and difficult, but she had a great team. They had a competent council and expendable funds for a thriving nation.
But what she would not tolerate, under any circumstances, were hunters.
Vermin, pigs, vile beasts.
“When that god damn seal broke…” Nieema glared at a black and white family portrait. The Thornbill line was large, at one point, with well over one hundred members and six generations. There were only twenty-five of them left now. “When the human world went to shit, they decided hunting us for sport was a good idea. A lucrative business, their leaders said. We lived in peace with them for a millennium. When worlds collided, everything changed for the worse.”
Nieema faced her brother and let it be known. “I will not allow it! I refused to have anyone hunted like game in the very land our family rebuilt. I will not stand by and let a faction rise. Not as I live and breathe. I swear to Desidion, I will kill every last one if need be. You gotta get ahead of this, Roe. Because they don’t want me on they ass, I’ll cut ‘em down to the quick.”
Her brother lifted a hand and nodded. “I’ll go to Misthill and speak with the governor first. You sit tight til I get back. And I mean it, Nimmy. A war with the Voaremonts could bring Indigo Plains and Ravensguard to its knees.”
Nieema huffed, shaking her head. “I don’t want a war, Monroe. I need to find whoever is killing the supernatural in my kingdom and send them to the gallows.”
“Gallows?” Roe chuckled and crossed his legs. He watched Jasper and fiddled with his rings. “She says I live in the past.”
“I don’t want to make trouble for anyone,” Jasper said, picking at her claws. “I only wanted a quiet, lonely life. Where Trevor would never find me. I don’t want anyone else getting involved.“
“You don’t worry about us,” Roe supplied. “We know how to disarm the masses without making a mess.”
“I don’t want to create a mess either.”
“You, didn’t,” Nieema stressed, heading for a fully stocked wet bar. She refilled her glass with Golden Barrel Batch blood and went on. “Trevor and his bitch ass raggedy friends did. Do you know them by name, his friends?”
“Yeah.”
“This is good,” said Roe. “We can stop them and their affiliates.”
After a brief stir, Nieema returned to Jasper’s side.
“These events would have reached me somehow. If not you, then somebody else. I got eyes everywhere. And Jasper, I’ll put money on you not being the first or the last victim.”
The air around Jasper shifted, hardened. Nieema tasted her vexation and loved how sweet she smelled because of it. Syrup-soaked black cherries came to mind. Resolve sparkled within her ember gaze.
“You’re right.” She nodded and perked. “You’re so god damn right, and I hadn’t even—shit, I never even stopped to think about the others. Trevor is middle-aged. There’s no telling how many have come before me and disappeared?”
“Exactly,” Roe whispered.
“Let’s do it. I want to take him down. Let’s kill the mother fucker.”
Nieema laughed, set her glass on the end table, and matched Jasper’s stare. “Don’t worry, we will, but in the meantime, I need you to stick to my ribs. Stay close to me. Can you do that, dear?”
“Depends on where we are. I like my space and solitude. But if we’re out? Exceptions can be made.”
“Good, I like you by my side.”
Jasper scoffed, her brow arched. “You are not clever, Mrs Sunside.”
“That’s what they all say, until…” Nieema smirked while the succubus’s jaw ticked. “Roe?”
“Yes, Nimmy.”
“You wanna go bowling?”
“You want an ass whooping tonight?”
“Fuck you, tramp,” Nieema piped. She sought her brother’s wide smile and stood on ten toes. “I’ll wipe the floor with you. Hows ‘bout we get in a couple of games, winner buys lunch.”
Jasper stood and rubbed her hands together. “I do love a free meal.”
“Ha!” Roe grabbed his suit jacket and led the way. “You gon’ learn today, demon.”

Chapter 12: Her Majesty

Nieema

Pouring a fresh batch of clove-spiced blood into her coffee, Nieema frowned at the text message. She sucked her teeth and grumbled. It was too early for this shit. Too early to be this pissed. Domestic violence and attempted murder? Demon hunting? In Ravensguard?
“Oooo bitch,” Nieema mumbled, stirring her energy booster. “Somebody will get it for this one.”
“Grandma,” Mace called, the time telling on him. “Gma?”
“Mmm?”
Nieema leaned against the counter and lifted the heated mug to her lips. She paid her gbaby no mind and read another text from Buck. It wasn’t helping her one bit. How the hell had this happened? A Voaremont boy was Jasper’s abusive ex.
“Yes, honey?”
“Why did you call my husband?”.
“Well—”
“You and Mama need to mind yours.”
Nieema scoffed and snatched him right on up with one look. Mace knew damn well not to go there with her. “You might wanna check that tone, sir.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma.”
“Mhm. Listen, I only called to see how he was doing. In case you’ve forgotten, I used to change his diapers. His mother is my best friend. I can see about whoever I like. I can call and text a boy I’ve known for over fifty years. And it just so happens, he’s having marriage troubles.”
Mace smacked his teeth and grabbed a pear from the fruit bowl. “You use that as an excuse to go snooping.”
Nieema considered her grandchild, sipping hot blood and cafe mocha.
“Baby, what are y’all gonna do? ‘Cause Patrick is saying this might be it, and he wouldn’t go into why.”
Mace crunched on his fruit and turned away. He stared out the window and shrugged.
“For years, we talked about kids. He wanted them, and you know I do. After fifteen years, I’m read,y and he’s not. Says he has a few more trips in him and I just…”
Time meant nothing to a vampire. Nieema didn’t even think about it most nights. No point. Perhaps without obligations and a large family, she would. Immortality was a gift. She wasn’t the brooding sort. There wasn’t enough humanity left within for that. But when she saw time pass in the eyes of her grandchildren, immortality seemed cruel. Mace was their first grandchild and more orc than vampire. With his mother only being half, that three percent wasn’t enough. The gray at his temples and increasing laugh lines scared her. She’d never lost a child or grandchild; Mace would be the first. Orcs didn’t live forever.
His father was a chieftain and met their daughter later in life.
Mace had a right to want children as he was on a time frame.
“Oh, honey. I know this is rough. And I know it’s not where y’all wanna be.”
Mace shook his head and dumped the core in the trash. He tucked his hands into his pockets and said, “He’s being dramatic, per usual. I didn’t say nothing about divorce. I’m just tired. I want to find a surrogate and start our family.”
Nieema put her coffee down and rushed to hug her baby. Mace enveloped her in his stocky arms and squeezed.
“Aww, it’s okay, love. It’s gonna be alright. I know these things. I feel them. Stay positive.”
“I’m trying, Grandma. But, God. Marriage is hard.”
“Shit, who you telling?”
She stepped back and slapped his shoulder. “Let me make you some food.”
“Nah, I’m good. I’m trying to lose so—”
“Please! I don’t wanna hear that shit! You got orc blood. There is no losing weight, my boy! Now, sit your ass on down. Don’t make me tell ya twice.”
Mace kissed her head and rolled his eyes into the family room.
“Okayyy, a lil somthin.”
Happy to cook and make her baby smile, she put together a staple. Country fried steak, over easy eggs, and grits, no sugar cause Mace uppity like that. Forty-five minutes later, she slid the big man his plate. He sure didn’t refuse and ate every last bite.
Nieema was okay with a mug of blood and cubes of raw meat. As her stress level ascended, her desire for solids dwindled.
On the way to her office, she heard the door and laughter.
Buck and Jasper entered the house gossiping like elder queens. It was pleasant and welcome after the news from earlier.
At six-hundred years young, Nieema was an old hag and nosy like one too. She wanted to know what made Jasper loosen up around Buckley. The man and his wiles might have won the sultry demoness over.
With curiosity driving her, Nieema jogged back downstairs and sashayed into the kitchen, where Jasper and Mace spoke.
“It’s a pleasure, Jasper. I hope my grandparents been treating you nice.”
The succubus was a sight in all them pastels. Shades of purple complemented her red complexion.
“They’re okay, not too bad.” Jasper waved. “Hello.”
Nieema lifted her chin and eyes after winking at the fine woman. “What have you been up to, Mista?”
Buck snickered, chewed his cinnamon gum, and sauntered toward the icebox. “Despite what went down, we got allat paperwork out the way.”
“Thank god!”
Jasper stepped up, and Nieema smirked as the succubus caressed a single braid. If this were any other night, with anyone else, she’d bite them for touching her hair, but she was soft on this one. Nieema wanted Jasper close enough to touch, to scent, to hold.
Finding out Jasper had been abused set Nieema off. Her irritation reached peak and the sun had just set.
“Jasper, how would you like to come with me tonight?”
She released the blue strand and looked at Buck.
“Well, we were going to Maggie’s.”
“Maggie’s?” Nieema inquired and retrieved her keys from the bowl on the counter. “For what?”
“She wanna learn magic,” Buck said, cheek packed with homemade brownies.
“Is that so?”
Jasper looked too god damn cute in her skirt and colorful scarf. Nieema wished to wrestle her out of that there fancy top and dine for hours. She smelled of caramel and cocoa. Something decadent and bad for your teeth. A forbidden treat to eat in private with drapes drawn and phones on DND.
“Uhm…” Jasper twirled and faced the man stuffing his face. “Can we see Maggie later?”
“Whenever you ready. Imma go to the shop, fill in for the night, and see about it.”
Buck smiled, all nice like, but Nieema knew better. She knew her man. He was up to no good and after his text, the glint in his stare wasn’t a surprise.
Sighing, Nieema made way for her husband and gripped his chin. “Don’t make me come looking for you. Be careful and don’t spill blood. Do you hear me?”
“I ain’t got time for none of that.“
“Buckley?!”
Nieema forced eye contact, and he cackled. “I won’t.”
“Where are you going?” Jasper asked.
Mace muttered in passing, “To cause trouble.”
“I ain’t!”
“You are,” Nieema said. “Which is fine. But don’t kick up too much dust, old man.”
“I won’t.“
She twisted the length of his braid around her fist and yanked his ass down to her level. Nieema demanded a kiss and was given her due. Buck devoured her just as he had the fudge brownie. Chocolate and fruit coated his tongue. Tea leaves, sun-ripened strawberries, and delicate lavender petals.
Buck growled with one hand on her ass. Nieema purred and pushed him off.
“You can’t even get it up,” Nieema hissed.
“That ain’t my fault! It’s the tea!”
“Hm.” Running a hand down her tie, Nieema glanced at Jasper. Her slack jaw and wide eyes painted a pretty picture. “Let’s go, girl. He’s such a tease.”
“I told you, it—“
“The ‘tea’, I heard you love.”
Buck giggled, biting into a second brownie. “Don’t make me pin ya lil’ ass to the ceiling, now.”
“If only!”
Nieema started for the patio doors and threw them open with her supernatural mental abilities. She marched out into a humid night and groaned.
In a mood, thanks to current events, she snarled at a sticky, wet heat. Maybe a power suit wasn’t the best idea, but she was on a mission at the moment.
“Jasper?!”
“Coming.” Jasper arrived seconds later and slowed. “Where are we going?”
“To see my brother.”
“For what exactly?“ Jasper prodded.
“We need to talk with the governor of Misthill, and before I, speak with them. My brother sets the table, so to speak.”
“What do you have to discuss?“
“Buck told me what happened, Jasper.”
She stopped dead, and Nieema halted. The succubus glowed beneath the waxing moon. Gold undertones set her skin on fire, but it was the dimming flame in her eyes that gave Nieema pause.
“Nieema, I let it go. I don’t want to make this an issue. I went to therapy, and I’m done with it. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I need to move on. This isn’t a big deal, and it’s not your problem.”
“Surely, Buck done told you who I am.”
“He did.”
“Well, then, I’ll have you know this is my problem. You are a citizen of Ravensguard, which makes you my, responsibility. I don’t take demon hunting or any other hunting, for that matter, lightly. If this is anyone’s problem, it is mine. Even if a god had hurt you, I still would have flayed them.”
Jasper scowled, shaking her head. “Why would—you and Buck don’t even know me.“
“I can’t say, for sure.” Nieema shrugged, having no final response as yet. “Alls I know is I like you. You sweet. Plus, you started a brush fire in my chest, and I don’t know how to contain it. What is it about you? I don’t know. But what I do, know is that hunting is against the law, my, law. This will bear dire consequences for anyone, even Trevor Voaremont.”

Chapter 11: Steeped In Blue

Content Warnings:
Talk of domestic violence, attempted murder, and abuse
Please keep yourself safe, and skip this chapter if you must. And if you or anyone else needs help, please know that you are not alone. The National Domestic Violence website is available if you can’t access the Internet for any reason. The hotline number is 1-800-799-7233.
I am not here to preach, but I am here to let you know that I have been there. Here. In Jasper’s shoes. And they are not fun or comfy. I don’t write about DV with a light heart, it’s something I take seriously and handle with care because I have experienced it. Again, this chapter isn’t heavy or dark, but it isn’t fluffy; it’s sad and heartbreaking.
I will leave you with this:
All MCs who are hurt, maimed, and/or assaulted in my books will get their revenge. One way or another, the villain will not see peace.

Buck

Bunny’s wasn’t anything Buck hadn’t seen before. The tea room was peaceful with meditative music and mellow lighting. Harrison, the owner, made certain that whoever walked into his establishment felt welcome and lighter, stress-free upon departure. Tea was top three for Buck. Best way to take the jagged, rusty edge off was Nieema, skipping in the forest ass naked and tea.
He’d entered the tea room hundreds of times and thought nothing of the atmosphere or decor. Sipping with a newbie made him appreciate the fine establishment even more.
Jasper was in awe. As they lounged in his favorite room within the multi-floored space, she smiled into an orange blossom blend.
“You like it?” Buck asked.
She nodded and sniffed a bouquet of tea roses. The Verdant Suite was a haven for those who preferred the greener side of life. Comfort and calm surround them.
Fiddle Leaf, Monster, and Ferns cradled the cushy, well-used couch Buck slouched into. It seated four, which gave Jasper the space she required.
“I’ve never had tea so good.”
Buck shrugged, curling a finger into the dainty ring of his favorite porcelain. Bunny kept the customer in mind and offered cups in various shapes and sizes. Buck liked the mushroom set best.
“They got tea in hell?” Buck asked.
Jasper relaxed into the cushions and canted her head. “Not in a traditional sense. Not like this. We make mineral tea from rocks, bones, and teeth.”.
Buck coughed and dribbled his good bit of Slatewall Tea. He cussed, wiping his chin. That god damn royal jelly was going to waste.
“I’m sorry, you say what now? Teeth? Bone—okay, we do a ceremonial thing with ashes, but it’s not an everyday typa thing.”
“Weellll, you have your customs, we have ours.”
“Fair enough.”
The melody of trickling water filled a momentary silence while Buck watched her contemplate.
The urge to soothe Jasper frothed deep in his guts yet again. He imagined kissing the tip of her horn and forehead. To be that shoulder, the one she obviously needed but didn’t have.
“Jasper, can I ask you somethin’?”
Her inferno-like gaze found his, and Buck almost moaned. The flame danced on his soul and laved his skin. Mischief and madness lay behind her eyes. She smirked as steam billowed, framing such a fine portrait.
“Was my refusal not enough for you? Where is the respect you claim to have?”
He laughed and nursed a specific blend fit to squelch his desire better than sticking his dick in an ice bath. Not that Buck didn’t trust himself. He just knew how seductive her kind could be, and oftentimes, it was unintentional. But more than that, there was something about Jasper he couldn’t place.
It made him desperate.
Buck was a simple man who’d fall headfirst in a matter of minutes. Slatewall tea slowed the blood and brain.
“Contrary to what the world done told you,” Buck started, “we don’t always think with our second head.”
“You’re wasting your breath. I have a doctorate in manspeak. I’m a Succubus, I know men and know for a fact y’all are obsessed with hot holes. It’s all you think about. How to mount, get between, and behind.”
He smiled against the rim of his mushroom tea cup. “Alright, okay. It had crossed my mind a while ago. Once or twice. But no means hell no! Now, back to my question. This is serious, so stop trying to cast spells on me, demon.”
Jasper placed her unicorn cup on its saucer and snagged a finger sandwich.
“I’m not a witch.”
“Spells aren’t a witch thing. It can be taught. Now—”
“Wait, what?”
“Spells and charms are about intention. Pulling the magic from this very land and making it your own. Some, like me, are born of magic. It’s in my bones. Magic ain’t ‘for faes’ only.”
Jasper’s smile was so bright that Buck wanted to shield his eyes. And damn it, did elation look good on her.
Nibbling on a filthy cucumber and olive morsel, she hummed.
“What?” Buck asked, curiosity biting him in the ass.
“Can you teach me? Magic, I mean.”
“I can teach you some things, but Maggie is a master at spells.”
“Who?”
“My daughter. She lives on the ranch.”
“When can I meet her? After tea?” Jasper was cute and innocent as hell.
Buck knew she wasn’t, not really, but right now, she was doe-eyed and filled with wonderment. He couldn’t deny her anything.
“Whateva you wanna do, Jasper. But, you gotta answer my question first.”
She shoved the lucky corner of bread into her mouth and nodded. Buck was chillin’ thanks to the tea; he didn’t glance at her lips once.
“Go ahead. Ask.”
Getting real for a moment, he put his cup on the tiny plate and faced the woman. She recoiled a tad, but didn’t move.
“When you said, ‘again’. What did you mean by that?”
She shrugged, blinked, and set her mask in place. Jasper locked up that second and sighed.
“Three years ago, I met a guy. He turned sour. I lost myself. The piece of shit was a demon hunter who wanted my limbs, horns, and heart. I took off. My friends told me not to worry because he was rich, handsome, and connected. I was raised by a connected male, it seemed fitting. They didn’t understand, though.”
Jasper paused here, staring at a thriving fringed fern.
“He wanted me in the ground,” she continued. “I couldn’t tell my siblings or my Dad. I severed relationships and now I’m here.”
Buck scratched his denim-clad thigh, knowing it’d create a hole. He reached into his pocket, retrieved a piece of gum, then unwrapped said strip of cinnamon. Chew and snap. He popped and glared.
“Is he still alive?”
“Of course.” Jasper chuckled, though clearly nervous. “He knows too many people. I was terrified. And like I said, I couldn’t tell my dad. I thought this sorta thing was…It’s humiliating, shameful. But I’ve gone to therapy. I’ve even forgiven—“
“What’s his name? Curious is all.”
“Buck, I can read your soul like a paperback. You’ve gone from gray to black. What’s wrong?”
Dark fae, at their core, were wicked. Tricksters, murderers, or pests. They were untrustworthy and spiteful. Buck landed somewhere in the middle. Thanks to the tea, he was placid. Any other day, he’d slide into a dashing Teflon vest and load his Ruger.
He smiled, folding the flimsy aluminum wrapper, and pinned all of his attention on Jasper. Brows tight and mask gone, she was concerned.
Good for her.
“If you don’t wanna tell me, fine.” Buck cracked and popped during a pregnant pause. “But I’ma find out either way. Nothing online is truly erased. I’d rather not go snooping about your affairs, but I will. Ask Nieema. I’m stubborn as I am kind. My grandbaby, Mace, is a tech god, fuck genius. He can find anyone whether breathin’ or not.”
She sniffed, thought to speak, then huffed. Jasper’s resolve faltered as she pinched another sandwich between her claws.
“Trevor. Trevor Voaremont.”
Buck grunted and dropped the paper in his tea. What a shame, wasting such a nice cup, but this churned his stomach.
“Fortuitous,” he said, staring at a dazzling fern resting in a cow planter. “Chance in hell.”
“What is it? Talk to me.”
Clearing his throat, Buck turned to Jasper. “You hear me, and I mean good. No one is going to touch you while you reside here. Indigo Plains ain’t just any ol’ place. You will be fine.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“It’d be irresponsible if I didn’t tell you that the Voaremont family is fronting the bill for the new mall in town.”
“Holllly!” Jasper shot to her feet and paced.
Hyperventilation was around the corner, and he couldn’t have this woman fainting. Buck rose and stopped Jasper mid-stride. He grabbed her hands and spoke the truth.
“Nothing and nobody will bring you harm.” He met her frenzied, blown stare and said, “I won’t allow it. The ranch is protected.”
Jasper wanted to refuse, but he wouldn’t let her.
Buck dropped the woman’s palms and cradled her face instead. “You with the Sunsides now. Which means, you are untouchable. My grandson is the mayor, Jo is the sheriff, and a good friend of mine is a lawyer. I know we’re a small town, but you’d be surprised by what we can do. And to be frank, Nieema is the one who runs Indigo Plains.”
“What do you mean?“
“She owns Ravensguard.”
Jasper’s jaw touched the floor. “Are you saying she’s—“
“Yeah, she’s more than just my queen. But she’s queen of Ravensguard and the vampire species.”
Buck let his pride talk for him, and Jasper gobbled it up. She showed teeth and fangs again, a smile returning. He liked this look better. It complemented her angular features and plush, blood red lips.
“I knew she was royalty.”
“How so?”
“Because my Dad is a Duke. We are close with the King of Undervell, which is split into five sects. Our king owns two. He wants everything. War and politics bore me.”
Buck nodded, trapped in her smoldering gaze. She was warm-blooded and beautiful. He wanted to reassure her with affection and gifts.
With a kiss.
And Jasper was well aware. The pretty girl pulled away and went for her satchel.
“What about my house?”
“Oh, we’re not gonna stop living because of this pig. But, you ain’t going no where by yourself. We don’t know who done saw you in town. Anybody coulda run back and told him.”
“True. I just…I thought demon hunting was against the law.”
Buck nodded, opening the door for Jasper.
“Alotta thangs are against the law. Humans don’t give a damn about them. They never have. Most fae don’t, either. A law don’t mean nothing to somebody who got greenbacks to buy what they want. Like a free pass and silence to do dirt. But, this ain’t necessarily a true democracy. And I bet, Nieema will have something to say about all this and some. The governor of Misthill is gonna need a lawyer at some point.”
Buck would let Nieema handle the political end while he, introduced himself to the Voaremont Boys.

Chapter 10: Cursed and Crumbling

Jasper

Jasper tried not to laugh and flirt, putting forth her best efforts. Some habits were hard to break, however. As a succubus, it was in her nature to pluck at rough petals unique to the masculine flower. A calling, a purpose. Instinctual. Biological. Their magnetism was a product of her inner workings, nothing more.
Fallacious.
She was enthralled by Buck’s intensity; locked into his magic. A shadow man who reminded her of tasty treats and cozy, crackling fire nights.
“—Every time I see it,” Buck said.
Jasper nodded but didn’t hear a word. “I’m sorry?”
He gestured to the cruddy house and ruined her moment of lapsed judgment. She’d been staring at his profile yet again. While signing papers, she had trouble concentrating on the task and misspelled her own name.
Jasper grunted and opened the car door. She needed fresh, summer air and not the circulating blend of Buck’s natural Midnight Mist musk.
“You might have a point,” Jasper said, mounting the sidewalk. She studied the old, dilapidated Victorian and almost wept. Masonry was spotty with bricks missing, the porch sagged, and there was only a handful of roof tiles left.
An eyesore. With its dead yard and barren trees, her house was a blight on Yewing Avenue. Classic homes, much like hers, dotted the four-block stretch. Though theirs had been upgraded and repainted. They maintained lawns and tended healthy gardens. Jasper was embarrassed and discouraged until a green giant barreled out of her crumbling shack.
He lumbered down the steps, skipping three. “Hiya Bucko!”
“Is that an orc?” Jasper asked, completely impressed by the sheer size of his double-barrel chest.
“Yup.”
“Oh…”
Tusks, flannel, and cherry-red hair. He was a rugged fantasy made real. Jasper knew they existed, but most never ventured this far from Brasshorne territory. Orcs were a rarity, and she hated that. An orc lover was on her bucket list… but she was celibate. Jasper deflated as the towering man greeted Buck.
“Good thing you showed, I was fixin’ to leave. Annie’s special for tonight is meatloaf. You know how I am about her meatloaf.”
“We didn’t mean to keep ya waiting. Those papers kicked my tail this time. They changed some stuff, and I had to at least skim. Oh, uh, Jasper, this here is Zach, the carpenter. He’s gon’ let us know what can be done with the floor and such.”
“Nice to meet ya, Ma’am.”
Zach was as friendly as everyone else in Indigo Plains. His hands were calloused and big, however. The texture would feel exquisite on the more sensitive areas.
Jasper batted lashes, and the Orc grinned.
“Oohhhkay,” Zach brandished his clipboard and said. “Boy, do I got some news for you, Buck. I’ve seen hill faerie homes in better condition. No offense, Ma’am.”
“None taken, it’s a piece of shit.”
Zach grimaced and scratched his head. “Not much to be done with the herringbone on the first floor.”
Buck hissed and said, “Come on now, we gotta save something.”
“No can do, the wood is rotted straight through. The basement is filled with water and the spider you gutted yesterday. You should move that damn thing, Bucko. It’s gonna smell up the place real bad. Like Freddy after a swamp swim.”
The men laughed, and Jasper joined, if only to humor Zach. He was a mountain of evergreen skin and muscle she’d climb for ten minutes flat. His essence probably smelled like spring rain or some shit.
Jasper winked at Zach, and the orc winced. “Ma’am, I’m flattered. But I’m gay.”
Jasper squinted, swallowed her tongue, and wanted to vomit. “Ohhhh, my god. I—you know what? I am so sorry.”
Zach snorted and said, “It’s fine. I get it all the time. So, are we ready for the walkthrough?“
“Hi! Yooohooo!” A dark-haired fellow wearing a tunic waved as he jogged from across the street. “Oh my goddess, leg day kicked my ass. Helloooo. You, must be Jasper.”
She nodded and shook yet another hand.
“I’m Leo, I live right over there. In the gorgeous cerulean lady. I painted her myself ten years ago. We all go for something bright and colorful. It is such a pleasure. I see you’re still moving in. How is it going?”
“It’s…stalled.” Jasper glanced at her moving pod, still packed with furniture.
“I can imagine. Is everything okay? I heard quite a commotion last night.”
“A Wicker spider living under the house.”
Leo gasped, removed his sunglasses, and cupped his mouth. At that second, Jasper tasted deceit. Masculine energies, specific to the human male variety, were no secret. She saw through their words and read their expressions thoroughly. Jasper inhaled intentions and lust as if it were a fine fragrance.
His concern was fabricated.
“That’s terrible.” Leo placed shades on his head and squinted at the house. “I never would have thought those beasties might invade our homes. Did you find a nest? Because we can’t have them breeding on our street. I don’t care for creepy-crawling things. Creatures of darkness and all that.”
“Creatures of what, now?” Buck asked, canting his head.
Jasper heard the derision in Leo’s voice as well and wasn’t fond of his tone.
“I should go,” her neighbor said. “I have smoothies to make, meal prep, you know. Got a pilates class at seven am sharp.” Leo laughed while their lips twitched. “Good luck with the renovations, but let’s not work after six. It’s inconsiderate. Some of us do have to work. You understand, babes?”
Leo started for his house but doubled back. He snapped his fingers and said, “Oh, and b-t-dubs, Sissy wants her dish back, asap. She can get annoying as effff if you don’t return it. Kay byeeee!”
“I don’t got no problem with humans,” Buck rasped. “But I do not like that one.”
“They’re so hostile,” Zach said.
“I’ll be keeping my distance.”
“Good idea, Jasper.”
“Alright.” Buck clapped once and headed for her house. “Where y’all wanna start?”
Leaks in the attic, structural issues, and mold within the walls. Sloping archways and termites. Jasper listened to complaints and concerns with a happy heart. She didn’t have to worry about paying for any of it, but there were a shit ton of problems. Zach found what she couldn’t even see.
“A massive chunk of the second floor is gonna go,” Zach said. “Jasper, if you’d like, we can set you up with our interior designer. She’s top notch, our lead consultant. Went to school for it and everything.”
She nodded, but her head was about to explode with an abundance of useless information. “Sure. Will this be the person who helps me pick the paint and stu—“
“Nah,” Buck interrupted. “We’ll be doing that. Becca is the person you can talk to about what you want this place to look like. Where you want lighting, if you want shutters, or brass knobs. She then teams up with Zach here and they go over cupboards, doors, shit like that. We’ll be doing the installing, though. You, me, and my vampire.”
His smile broke Jasper down for three whole seconds. She giggled and whirled around. It’d be a cold day in Undervell before he’d see her blush.
Instead of lingering near her current annoyance, Jasper took to exploring her house. Being gifted with an interior decorator put some fire in her step. She retrieved her phone and started in the living room. After two hundred years of drab, Undervell living, Jasper was into color. She never wore black or shades that clashed with her carmine complexion.
When buying new clothes, she erred on the side of caution, but her home was fair game. With quick thumbs, she took notes. Blues in the parlor, honey-yellow and apricot in the kitchen. Sage, jade, and moss would be her craft room. Neons in her computer room and ivory in the master.
There was the attic, she wasn’t sure what that’d be yet. Jasper ticked off ideas for each guest suite save for Kit’s. He’d claim the second largest room with a fireplace.
Breathing through her mouth did nothing to stymy the miasma. Musty air tickled her toes and brushed her nose.
“Uck.” Jasper stepped lightly and entered the half bath on the second floor. She spun, tripped on broken tile, and gripped the towel rack. It snapped right off. Chunks of ceramic went with it.
Tucked into the gaping holes were tittering creatures. Tiny, gray people. Jasper tossed the bar and stared at the winged cuties.
“Are you fairies?” she asked, frightening the group.
They flinched and scrambled as the biggest one stood, facing her.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The mini fairy flapped its papery wings and hovered in her line of sight. The strangling was quite unseemly up close. Scar tissue riddled its face and emaciated body. Thorns, spikes, or barbs lined their long limbs.
“Hello there.“
It screeched and struck her cheek. Jasper gasped and dabbed at the spot it nicked. Blood coated her fingertips.
“You little shit!”
It cut her again, this time on her chin. They were swift and too small to track. As the others crawled from their home in the wall, Jasper side-stepped.
The horde overflowed from each wound. She bolted down the hall as the fairies poked her calves and sliced into her arms.
“Buuuuuuck! Get back!“ Jasper flailed and batted at the gray clump of fairies blocking her path. “You fuckers.”
The frenetic horde swarmed as she pushed through the gray curtain. Jasper fought back the only way she knew how, with her fists. She’d been trained like everyone else in her father’s house, but never put those skills to use.
She wasn’t even sure they’d help her now, but it was worth trying. She grabbed fairies by the handful and crushed them. Their thorns pierced her palms, and dust slipped through her fingers.
“Jasper? Hoooly! God damn creatons!” A strong hand captured her wrist. “Close your mouth! And whatever you do, don’t let ‘em get in your eyes!”
“My ey—“
“Close your mouth!”
She sealed her lips shut as Buck dragged her. They ran downstairs while Ivy scaled the walls and gathered behind them. The creeping vines created a lattice work, and it was quite beautiful.
“It ain’t gonna hold, they can chew through cement!”
He was right; the second they burst through the front door, an undulating mass of fairies emerged. They darted for the front door and stopped. The loud static hum of their wings would give Jasper nightmares for at least a week.
“Why aren’t they moving?”
The door slammed shut, followed by the telling clack of a dead bolt.
“They fuckin’ locked the door. Jasper, your house is cursed,” Buck said.
“So it’s haunted?” Zach asked, shaking as if he’d been trapped in the Arctic for the last five minutes.
“Nah, cursed,” Buck amended. “I didn’t wanna believe it, but I felt it the moment one of them Creak Fairy’s cut me. I can taste it. This ain’t a matter of ghosts, but people. Somebody done put a hex on this house. One intent on taking Jasper out.”
“Take me out?! Like how? You mean as in kill me?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. The Wicker Spider wanted you bad, and Creak’s don’t touch meat. They eat dirt and minerals, they ain’t usually that aggressive neither, not really. But sure as the moon shines, they woulda ended you.”
“Death by a thousand cuts,” Zach muttered. “Nasty way to go.”
Jasper huffed as her fury rose and blood boiled to the surface. She was so sick of this shit. How was it that someone wanted her dead already? She’d just moved to this fucking town two days ago! She’d met a handful of people and only remembered three names. Crossing her arms, an emotional tidal wave made the pyre in her belly percolate.
With nothing left to do, she screamed, releasing a short blast of fire through her nose. She stomped in the dead grass, snatched weeds, and punched a column. The old, brittle wood fractured under her strength. The roof leaned eerily to one side and collapsed to the left. Teracotta slid to the ground and shattered.
That was it, Jasper broke. Molten tears sprang from their wells as her shoulders shook. Head in her hands, she sobbed.
“Not agaaaain! Why does everyone wanna kill me? I can’t—whyyy?! Why me?! What did I dooo?”
“Jasper,” Bucks husky timbre pierced her pathetic blithering, quieting her in an instant. “May I touch you? Not in no weird way, I just feel like you need a hug, and I hate seeing folks cry. It chokes me up.”
She whirled and tackled the man. Acquaintances they may be, but Jasper needed an anchor. And she chose Buck. He enveloped her in a snug embrace and patted her back.
It was nice.
Jasper sniffled and came down from a blue-hued high. Crying was cathartic, not a weakness like Carriont had led them to believe. Expressing oneself through draining bodily fluids had helped Jasper in desperate times.
Within two minutes, she went from standing to sitting in Buck’s car. He handed her a small pack of tissues she put to quick use. She sullied half of them and gathered a long, shuddering breath.
“I’m sorry for all that.“
“Don’t go apologizing for feeling things.”
“I fell apart.”
“As most do when under massive amounts of stress.”
“I’m fine, though. Really.“
“Not even close. I can see the strain in your smile and in the way you fidget.”
Jasper frowned, adjusting her necklaces. She didn’t fidget. Rubbing the gold unicorn pendant, she huffed and dropped her hand, choosing to wring the tissue. Jasper stared at her hands instead of Buck’s scrutiny. She didn’t need another man judging her for an unexpected flush of tears.
“I know what’ll cheer you right on up.”
“I’m okay, Buck, but thank you.”
“See, ‘bout that, I ain’t ask you nothin’. Sit tight and relax, I gotchya.”
Now, she fixed her gaze upon him. Jasper was baffled by his set of balls. Sure, he wasn’t the first assertive man she’d met, but he was the first of his kind to hug her without expectation. He’d given her time to process and didn’t say shit.
Hand on the wheel and eyes on the road, Buck was unbothered and handsome. The sunlight hit his five o’clock shadow and the brim of his hat just right. Buck’s overt beauty was painful to behold, but she’d be damned to look away.

The Unexpected Resurrection of Neon Red and its CWs

About two years ago, I gave Vella a try. It went absolutely nowhere. I don’t know, maybe it was my lack of marketing skills. Anyway, I took Neon Red down six months before Vella shuttered and said I’d release it on D2D or Smashwords. I can still do that. I’m still thinking about it, but I figured why not give Substack a go and see what happens. If it doesn’t pick up after about six months, I’ll bring it here. No big deal. I get more reads through FB than anywhere else anyway.
So, with that being said, I will post Content Warnings here. Neon red is a Dramatic Paranormal Romance. Keyword: dramatic. It’s dark, twisted at times, and messy.
The story follows four vampires. First up, there’s Maxine, a depressed, ninety-eight-year-old divorcée living at home. Then we have Low, a bodyguard intent on fucking up his career and personal life. And because I love chaos, there is Jaxon Aubrey, a genius accountant moonlighting as a drug lord.
Lastly, and not my favorite character, Tracy. Maxine’s father, Low’s boss, and Jaxon’s newest client.
Neon Red is the first in a three-book series I completed four-five years ago. It’s not my best work, but it is fun and enjoyable. I have been editing and tweaking since its Vella days, so it ain’t sooooo bad.
Neon Red is a journey some may not like, and others love. Keep in mind, again, this is a dark story with dark themes. I don’t condone drug use or selling, nor do I care for those who actively destroy lives. This is fiction, and trust, I do not glorify it. There are consequences for every action. If you follow along to the very end, you will see what I mean.
The main coupling is a fast-burning polycule. Mmf. Crossing swords and sloppy toppy for everyone! By everyone! I’ve said it many times, but all these characters are Bi or pan. No assuming, just know!
Also, Maxine and Low are Black. Jaxon is not; he is Irish. I suppose this makes it an Interracial and Black love romance. Neon Red is unapologetically Black, and some language will seem dated. That’s intentional. These are old ass vampires with decades behind and in front of them. Time moves differently when you’re immortal.

Without further delay, the CWs and trope card.

Off-page death of a parent, Depression Murder, Parental Neglect and Financial Abuse Trauma, Mild Gore Blackmail, Drug Selling, Drug Use (weed), Parental Abandonment, Mention of Religious Bigotry, Past Domestic Violence

Neon Red trope card includes Polycule dynamic, plus-size FMC, Secret Relationships, morally gray MCs, Paranormal Romance, Forced Marriage

Chapter 7: Welcome To Indigo Plains

Jasper

Before moving to Indigo Plains, Jasper hadn’t researched the town much. Kit had been right; it was an impulsive purchase but a needed one. She knew Indigo Plains operated mostly at night, with its large nocturnal population and all. With three schools, one hospital, and a tight-knit fae community, Jasper figured there wasn’t much to it.
Their delivery run proved her wrong. Sure, Indigo Plains lacked high rises and an urban symphony, but it was rich with life. Far from a sleepy town, pedestrians crowded the sidewalk. Bodies spilled from a rowdy bar, and a group of teenage satyrs laughed into a busy cinema.
Everyone Jasper encountered was kind and quick to introduce themselves. The shops and eateries were packed. There wasn’t a piece of trash in sight. And she hadn’t tripped over a rat or stumbled on a beer bottle.
The air on Great Oaks Street was sweet and savory. The aroma snared her. A food stand in front of Zarbies bakery gathered their attention.
“Oh, hay now!” Nieema doubled back and inhaled with dramatic flair. “These are Nana Fosters’ famous meat pies. Flaky dough filled with salted pork, spices, and extra cheese.”
“Where can we pay?” Kit asked. Quick to spend money he didn’t work for. “Where can—”
“These are samples. She puts them out at the end of every night. We’re coming up on two am, she’s about done.”
“Soooo…” Kit clutched his new journal, waiting for Nieema’s answer.
“Go ahead, sir! They free.”
“Excellent.”
Jasper loved free food and wouldn’t pass on this. The first buttery bite made her sag. She shook her head and grumbled with a bulging cheek.
“This is—“ Kit lost his tongue and moaned. “I can’t think of anything else. I want a basket full.”
“Well, most order by the dozen.” A gentle smile and eyes greeted them. “Hello, there. You must be new in town.”
The fairy elder with pastel pink curls and gauzy wings fluttering at her back hobbled over and extended a hand.
Jasper accepted the salutation with thanks. “Jasper, it’s nice to meet you, ma’am. This is my brother, Kit.”
The man waved, smiled, and chewed.
“I’m Nana Foster, and these here are my Poppin’ Patties.”
“They are positively delightful,” Jasper admitted, her finger itching to grab another.
“You know me, Nana.” Nieema winked and said, “I’ll take two-dozen. Add ten more for my friends here.”
“Now, why are you two hangin’ with this troublemaker?”
The women cackled and hugged, Nieema patting her back on the pull away.
“I may be trouble, but I’m the best kind.”
“You know better than to lie to me, girl!” Nana Foster slapped Nieema’s arm with a towel. “How’s that mall business going?”
“You know, going.”
Jasper witnessed the elder darken, her jovial nature evaporated.
“I never wanted no strip mall. I didn’t vote for it.”
“Ninety percent of y’all did, and Bobbi had to be fair, Nana. He—”
“It ain’t gonna do nothin’ but bring mess and take our business.”
“You know we’re loyal. Indigo Plains will not turn its back on you.”
Nana sniffed and snapped her towel. “Yeah, until a mighty big-name cookie shop promises something new.”
“A cookie establishment will not have these delectable treats, Nana Foster.” Kit gave a curt nod and plucked another pastry.
“Two per mouth.” Nana quirked a brow and her hip.
Jasper nearly choked as Kit grimaced and put the pie back. Demons had elders too, and knew better than to cross them.
“Well Nana,” Nieema piped, “I’ll be by to pick up the order tomorrow. We gon’ get on the good foot. I gotta get supper started.”
“I know, feed those babies.”
“They’re grown!”
“Grown as a sapling.”
Nieema bid Nana farewell and Jasper did the same. The elder pinched Kit’s cheek and he gleamed. The display was erroneous. He’d never let a soul touch his face, let alone a stranger. Then again, Kit appealed to an elders nurturing side. It could be his features and stature.
“She’s nice,” Jasper announced. “Everyone is nice. It’s nothing like Misthill.”
“You stayed in the capital?” Nieema asked, clearly astounded. “Girl, six-million people is too many for me. The hustle of the city isn’t my favorite.”
“I think you’d fit in well,” Jasper said, stopping at her truck.
“However do you mean?”
“Your attire is…”
“What? You ‘spected boots, a cottage dress, and pigtails?”
“Maybe. your husband is a stereotypical cowboy.” Jasper traveled from Nieema’s neat and tidy box braids to the tips of her buckled boots. “Y’all are polar opposites.”
“You know what they say ‘bout opposites, don’t ya?”
For the third time on this wee early morning Nieema opened the door for Jasper. It was sinful how heat flared upon her cheeks and spread. The little woman caused a scene and Kit giggled climbing into the backseat.
Jasper claimed passenger and grinned at the wily vampire. “Are you this chivalrous with everyone?”
“Only those I deem worthy. Buckle up!”
Nieema slammed the door and was quick about hitting the gas. Weird, disjointed music filled the amicable silence.
“What is that raucous?” Kit asked. “It’s offensive and vile!”
“Skat jazz.”
Jasper boomed with laughter because this shit didn’t fit Nieema either. “You’re a strange, perplexing woman, Mrs Sunside.”
Nieema popped a shoulder. “So I’ve been told.”
“Jazz, quilts, and a cowboy husband? You’re two steps away from front-running a death metal band with electric blue hair and black nails. Can’t say it doesn’t suit you, however..”
“I know you can’t, tuhuh! I look damn good.”
“What melody is death metal?” Kit tapped Jasper on the horn. “Will I like it?”
“Think Core Dread.”
“Yuck! I hate it already.”
Nieema smiled, eyes on the road. Headlights illuminated her glossy, tailored brow, the curve of her nose, and the sharp point of her fangs.
“So,” Nieema began, “I think we should go over what we’ll be doing tomorrow.”
“With my house?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“What can be done?”
“For now? Survey and demolition.”
Jasper winced. “I’m sorry, what? Demolition?”
“It’d be doing you a favor,” Kit murmured, not minding his own business.
“At least it’s mine, and Father didn’t acquire it for me.”
“Well, just so you—that’s… I refuse to stoop.”
Nieema chuckled as if something amused her. Jasper failed to see what she had. A demolition was the exact opposite of what Jasper wanted.
“What do you mean by—“
“Calm down, woman. Damn. Listen, in order to rebuild, we must destroy first. The floor is rotten. The walls are crawling with mold. The wiring is faulty, and there probably ain’t no repairing the pipes. Everything must go, then, renovations.”
“Oh, okay. So then I’ll need a hammer and such.”
“Girl, you gon’ need a sledgehammer.”
“Sledgehammer?!” Kit bellowed. “I have a war hammer much like it. Can I help? Can I demolish?”
“Sure,” Nieema said, mid-giggle. “But you’ll have to be fitted with safety gear first.”
“We’ll be wearing armor too? This place isn’t as ab as I thought. First, the bean casserole, then home and goods, meat pies, and now, I get to wield a hammer!”
Jasper loved her brothers enthusiasm and thirst for violence. He was the Dukes favorite thanks to his appetite for war. She didn’t buy it, though. Kit had been molded by their patriarch. He walked the path Carriont paved and ached for approval. Countless children and Jasper was the first to leave.
“What are we gonna do now?” Jasper asked.
“I’ll throw dinner on the table, then call it a night.” Nieema parked in the driveway, gathered her satchel, and slipped out of the truck. “You can mosey about under my roof if you’d like.”
They followed her lead and retrieved Kit’s wares. Jasper had only bought herself a few necessities, whereas Kit, went apeshit on cat toys, journals, and sheet sets.
Nieema’s comment wasn’t a suggestion, but an invitation. The roll of her tongue spoke where she had not.
“Think I’ll catch a rain check on dinner.” Jasper glanced at her yawning brother, then studied the gorgeous farmhouse. “I don’t operate on a nocturnal schedule yet. I’m tired as hell.”
“If you change your mind, let me know.”
“I will.”
Nieema’s carmine appraisal remained for three seconds too long. “Hope so, ‘night y’all.”
“Goodnight, madam,” Kit said. “Thank you for the outing. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”
The vampire frowned. “I wouldn’t call working fun, but you’re welcome. If you wanna see some real fun, I’ll show you. We’ll make a night of it.”
“Excellent.”
With a wink and wave, Nieema jogged into her home. Jasper groaned as her head dropped. She kicked pebbles and muttered.
“I think she likes you,” Kit remarked, stating the obvious.
“Thanks for the news. Come. Let’s get drunk on berry wine and watch Head Chef.”
“Head Chef?” Kit’s lilac stare brightened and sparkled with glee. “Is it like Cooked and Charred?”
“No. It’s more like Bottom Flame Kitchen.”
“Nice. Watching land dweller shows is technically research. I’d loved to learn more about their cuisine.”
“Most people don’t eat what they make on those shows.”
“I will. I’ll be happy to give these dishes my best effort.”
Jasper let Kit prattle. It was nice to hear him talk about something other than battle and ranks.
“I’ll be your taste tester.”
“Terrific.” Kit swung his bags as they marched for the cabin. “This is going to be great. You’ll see.”
“Can’t wait.”
She grimaced and prayed for her poor guts. Whatever Kit had in mind scared the shit out of her.

Thank you so much for reading! You’re an incredible human!

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!

The Sleeping Car Porter: Please Let This Man Sleep!

Historical fiction isn’t something I read often. But I enjoyed this book. Y’all, if you can get past the oddball formatting you’ll be fine. The author breaks many writing “rules”, and I loved it.

The Sleeping Car Porter is a fictional tale told from a single POV. Mr. Baxter. An overworked, underpaid, undervalued, TIRED porter. I found this story intriguing because I knew nothing about porters. As a Black millennial, I’m not shocked. There are many things we just never learned about growing up. This book though fictional, was a teaching moment. I looked into Pullman porters because of this novel. I watched documentaries about them on YT at two in the morning. They were IMPORTANT and completely overlooked during civil rights discussions. If you don’t know of their hand in our community please, do yourself a favor and learn about them. They changed Black labor unions forever and paved the way for those who needed it most.

Not only was this book a look into the lives of porters but also it shone a light on the struggling gay man. Relationship troubles, loneliness, and the hunger for connection filled the page.

The world still ain’t perfect and our community still needs support, but being a Black gay man during the 20th century was isolating. My heart broke for Baxter. By the end, I wanted him happy, well-rested, and fed. I think (I’m choosing to believe) that he moved in with his “friend” the doctor, and became a successful dentist.

Silver in the Wood

This book wrapped me up in a warm hug and fed me snacks. I found Silver in the Wood to be a comforting read. I loved it. I adored it. Will rec often. Keep in mind, if you want spice, steam, and heat, you will get nothing. That’s not what this sweet-pea romance is about. I’m someone who💗LOVES💗 spice, smut, and erotica, but I don’t NEED it.

Steam is not a requirement for me. Character development and story matter here. If a romance is closed door or light with glimpses and kisses, fine, but the story had better come together.

Silver in the wood did just that.

There was life in this book and much of it. I thoroughly enjoyed the lore and world-building. I’m sooooooo excited to read the next book. It’s on hold at the moment so I’m counting the days!