Chapter 3: In Which A Demon Is Grateful

This wasn’t the weirdest moment of her life. And it wasn’t the first time someone had taken her in. When Jasper popped up from hell she was alone, until arriving in Ledisi Tillerson’s backyard. They’d met thanks to a cheap, sketchy rock that opened said gateway. Jasper knew better than to buy keys from a demon selling baggies of ash on the corner, but she was desperate.
It worked out for them in the end. Ledisi was a vivacious vixen and a great friend. She taught Jasper how to be a normal land dweller and live without shame. They shared meals, a bed, and laughs for two wholesome years. It was the greatest romance of her life. At eighty-two, Ledisi was a spry freak who liked it rough.
“Jasper, you don’t even know these people. You can’t move in with them.”
Kit had always been an anxious worrywart who couldn’t whisper to save his life.
As they followed the Sunsides along a well-laid brick path she smiled. “Why not? They offered. And free too? You don’t understand how amazing that four-letter word is. I need this. And I’m not moving in with anyone. You heard Buck, they have cabins and…shit, look at this place.”
The couple owned a ranch, close to one thousand acres, and the surrounding mountain range. It was nearly 9pm but with the crescent moon aglow and her decent demonic vision, Jasper saw enough. Rolling hills, serene pastures,, and babbling streams.
“Ohhhh, I can see,” Kit mumbled. “The copse of trees are particularly frightening and nefarious. It’s dark out here. I don’t have the best night vision as you know. I should have brought the bear spray. Are there lions?”
“I don’t think lions live in this part of the world.”
“Through my travel research, I read that lions live on mountains. They are encircling us. This is…Jasper…”
Kit whined, clutching a beastly creature he called Julep. It was a ratty, black cat with sinister yellow eyes. Jasper was certain a hatch demon possessed the fearsome mammal. She shuddered and clapped her big brother on the shoulder.
“You sir, need to relax. We’ll be indoors. Cushy living, great food, and shit.”
Kit was three hundred years old, short, and rotund. He had the most adorable dimples and a set of ram horns she envied. But, he was too high-strung and had shaved down his impressive crown.
“This is your vacation, dear brother. Enjoy yourself. Let these fine folks spend their money. You don’t know how this world functions, cash is king. And I, don’t have much to spare.”
Kit shook his head as the Sunsides stopped at a charming one-story abode. It even had four-pane windows and a porch swing.
“You make terrible investments, Jasper. Dad said not to buy property in Wasteland. What do you do? You buy both magma pits and a hoard of expiring souls. He said don’t, buy a hellhound. You bought three and regretted it. This house is just another one of your impulsive purchases. And now, your leading us to our death.”
Kit was matter-of-fact, uppity, and judgmental, but Jasper loved every bit of him.
“Shut, your mouth, Squeak. Don’t be rude and behave.”
“I am older than you. And don’t call me that in front of—”
“This is incredible,” Jasper interrupted, reaching the Sunsides. “I mean seriously. It’s a real cabin. With logs and stuff. Wow.”
She knocked on wood and laughed. The cabin was private and semi-secluded with a twenty-minute walk from their main house.
Nieema grinned and opened the door. “If you like the outside, then you’ll love it in here. I do my very best to make the guest houses homey and inviting.”
“Cluttered is the word ya looking for.”
“Hush your mouth, Buck.”
The smiling gentleman listed against a thick timber column and tipped his hat. “Age before beauty.“
“Does that usually work?” Jasper asked, in passing. She didn’t match his gaze, it was for her own good. “Home, sweet, home.”
Jasper made sure to scrub her soles first. After stomping across the threshold, she dropped her duffel and inhaled vanilla. Cookies, cupcakes, and caramel. Every note delighted her senses. She wanted and needed to find whatever the hell smelled so amazing.
“Kit, look,” she pointed at an enchanting pebble stone fireplace, “it’s real. I’ve never stayed anywhere like this before.”
“Does it have indoor plumbing?”
“Kit!”
“It’s okay,” Nieema said. “Not everybody likes the vast outdoors. Camping ain’t for me either. If there isn’t a toilet then I’m not staying.”
“See.” Kit scoffed, still holding his ugly fucking cat. “She understands. But is there a toilet?”
“Yes, young man, there are facilities.”
Kit lifted his chin. “Young? I beg your pardon, Mr. Sunside—“
“Buck.”
“Mr. Sunside, I am older than most. Young for me was ages ago.”
“Welcome,” Buck shouted. “I too, am an old piece of shit.”
Kit was set to protest, but Jasper stopped the oncoming rant. “Thank you, again. It’s not often you find such great company. I am in your debt.”
“Is that right?”
Jasper tweaked a brow and glanced in Buck’s direction. “I can cook, clean, and keep to myself. Kit and I won’t be a bother.”
Nieema fluffed throw pillows and straightened a handmade quilt. It looked cozy and plush. Well crafted. Much like the buxom vampire, who was out of place. She belonged in a club, not a cabin worthy of any romantic Christmas film.
“No need for all that, now. It’s in my nature to help those in need.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m—“
Nieema balked and sashayed into the kitchen. “Your house is ‘bout two shakes and an ogres sneeze away from collapsing. I think you do need us, and I enjoy lending a hand. Or two.”
Jasper cleared her throat and tore free of Nieema’s arresting crimson stare. Who was the succubus here? Vampires were alluring but never Jasper’s cuppa. She was obsessed with their aesthetic, sure, but never enough to taste. They were greedy and possessive. Even more, vampires got in your head and compelled people. Demons succumbed to their wiles like anyone else, but not Jasper. She didn’t want any parts of Nieema or her alluring mister. No matter how nice they came off.
This was trouble and she knew it well. If Trevor taught her anything, it was that relationships were dangerous. She’d learned a valuable lesson far too late. This realm was not for the faint-hearted.
“Later on,” Buck started, “I’ll have somebody bring on in perishables and such. You eat meat, Kit?”
“No, I’m a fruit and veggie kind of fellow, and yes, of course, I eat meat. I don’t look this good by accident.”
Buck barked in heavy laughter and tested the faucet. “You a feisty bull if I ever done seen one. I think Hank might like you too much.”
“I’m sorry, who is—“
“Ground keeper.”
“Oh, hm.” Kit frowned at Jasper. “I’m claiming the master.”
“No, the fuck you are not!”
“Yes, I am.” Kit sniffed and squinted. “I am the eldest by a hundred years. If I—“
“You want me to tell Father you’re here?”
“You wouldn’t dare, you love me. I am your favorite.”
“Okay, not father. Buuuut, I might tell Venus.”
“Oh sweet poison berries. You are unbearable and…”
Kit went on his way while the couple chatted about housekeepers.
Jasper rapped rings on the dining table to gather their attention. “I don’t need help cleaning. I wanna do it myself.”
“You sure?” Buck asked.
With his dark eyes fixed, she flushed. “I am positive. I know my way around a mop and bucket.”
Jasper quickly clothed herself with cool and collected. As a succubus, the male species tended to her unique needs and riled her innermost desires. She wanted to make him suffer, beg, cower, and crave. Buck appeared strong. He was wide and willing. A soul spiked with magic and malice.
She had no idea what ran through his veins but he plucked multiple threads at once. His silence spoke for itself.
Nieema sighed aloud and flashed porcelain fangs.
“If you need anything, call, holler, ring even. I can send you a bell.”
Jasper chuckled and crossed her arms. She peered down at the small, regal woman. “I’m good. Plus, I have your number. Annnnd, we’re neighbors now.”
“C’mon mama,” Buck beckoned. “Moonlight burning.”
“Are you rushing me?”
“Why yes, I do think I am. Come now. I ain’t fooling. I’m starving and I need rising tea. I ain’t had my first sip tonight and I’m about to go hog wild. Do—“
“He’s always throwing a tantrum. Look at him, ain’t he something else? Buckley Sunside stop embarrassing me!”
“I’ll show you—“
Nieema hissed and Jasper flinched. The display both amused and terrified her.
“Oh, you’re feeling froggy ‘tnight. I’ll be on my way woman.”
Buck flicked his hat and nodded as he departed. Nieema was mischievous, trembling with mirth.
“I love getting him riled. It keeps the flame bright If you know what I mean.”
“I don’t,” Jasper said.
Nieema hummed. “Well alright, missy. I’ll be seeing you. If you’d like, supper is at three am on the dot. I’d like the company. I got four grandsons staying over and Buck. I’d love a smidge of feminine energy such as yours.”
“Feminine energy?”
“Yes, of course. You shine with it.”
Jasper stamped out a ridiculous giggle, then canted her head. She considered her tattered hiking boots, torn overalls, and gritty tank. Soft and feminine wasn’t the look she was going for today. Colorful and cute yes, femme, no.
Flexing tattooed fingers and her jaw, she nodded. “Sure, why not.”
“I knew you’d say yes.”
“How so?”
Nieema floated toward the door and exited with a wink.
“Okay then.” Jasper shrugged, spinning on her heels. She pointed at the ice box and hoped there was something good to ease her frazzled nerves.

Chapter 2: In Which An Invitation Is Extended

Jasper

“Where is it? Wher—yes!” Jasper found her favorite scarf in a box titled ‘books’. There were books inside but also, non-book items. With a telling whimper, she scurried into the bathroom and tied the rainbow silk length tight. The bright, colorful theme continued all the way down to her boots.
Pink overalls made her hips pop. Jasper had no business trying to look put together. She was celibate! A sexless succubi was a thing of myth, but she was here to defy the odds. Sex, love, and companionship brought nothing but pain into her life.
Of course, when a handsome couple lusted after you it said something. She hadn’t lost her touch. Jasper still had what folks wanted. From the tips of her gold-tipped horns to the soles of her feet she was…she was…

Jasper stared at her reflection in a cruddy, broken mirror and sighed. She was still trying to find herself. Trying to recover tiny shards after a terrible ordeal.
A shrill ring and clatter made her flinch. Jasper rushed from the washroom and saw to her phone. She smiled at the photo and name.

“Kit?”
“Hay.”
“What’s up, lovebug?”
“I… well… Jasper, I quit!”
Her heart bloomed with warmth and hope. “Oh, my god. Kit you didn’t. Oh shit. You, when—quit?”
“Yeah, and Dad’s pretty mad. I—that would make two of us and well—he kicked me out.”

Jasper stopped dead and stared at her laptop. She had orders and shit to fulfill but holy hell, she was going through a lot. Tugging on her necklaces she nodded as Kit went on about their father’s lecture and anger. The Duke was mad and who cared. Not every demon belonged in hell. Not every demon knew how to harvest souls, make contracts, or even kill. Jasper didn’t and had never committed murder. Other demons treated her like a pariah.

“Okay, Kit?”
“Mhm?”
“You’re gonna stay with me. Of course. No questions asked.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to…”
Her brother mumbled as always, doubting his usefulness and station in her life.
“Yes! Now shut up and get over here. And hay—“
A heavy-handed knock had her jumping out of her skin.
“Just come right in, don’t knock. I’m having my house looked at. Don’t mind the mess and behave. Also, that fucking cat stays outsi—“
“He’s not a feral outside cat!”
“I don’t—“
A third knock put her in motion. “I gotta go. See you in a minute.”
“Kay. Bye.”

Jasper ended their call and jogged downstairs, forgetting about the warped wood. She slipped on the second to last step and stumbled into the vestibule. “Holy god damn.” She was a mess and in a hurry, it seemed. The Sunsides were attractive and soooo off-limits. She hadn’t participated in a threesome in years. Not that it was an option, because it wasn’t. Jasper set aside her obsession with vampires and her curiosity about Buck Sunside to open the door.

“Hayyy.” Jasper waved a hand. “Come in. And watch your step.”
“Forgive Buck,” Nieema said, crossing the threshold. She carried herself like a queen and resembled one. “He’s in writing mode. Ain’t no talking while he’s walking. I’m going to throw some things at him and he’ll jot it all down.”

Jasper scrunched her nose as Nieema turned up hers. She was a gorgeous Black goddess with obsidian skin and a shock of teal braids. They were bound in an elegant crown and suited her regal features.

“Water damage,” Nieema pipped, strolling into what might be formal living one day. Jasper loved the giant fireplace. “Mold damage. Termites are having a time wallowing in their rot. The floors gotta go. There’s a leak below. Solid bones, though.”
Nieema stomped twice and nodded.
“The foundation is crumbling, child. I can hear mice chattering in the walls and squirrels are in the attic. They’ve chewed through the wiring, I’m sure. I wouldn’t turn on a single light if I was you.’
“They don’t work,” Jasper added, though given the lanterns and fake candles, Nieema probably knew.

Buck followed his wife, scribbling every word. They traveled through the house, making Jasper dizzy. There was shit wrong she hadn’t even noticed. They conversed about what to do in the kitchen, leaving her to stare.
Buck was enormous. Taller than them both. Nieema was tiny, maybe five-two, so everyone was taller than her. But it wasn’t every day Jasper found a man over six-two. And he was at least six-three, perhaps five. His brawn caught her quick, but his mysterious nature and impeccable bone structure captured her attention. She found his down-home country attire funny next to the Mrs. Nieema dressed as if she fronted a metal band.
Corsets, chokers, matte lips, and the color black. Yesterday it was a corset dress. Today it was leather pants. Her bottom—

“Jasper? Hello?!”
“You expecting somebody?” Buck asked.
“Shit, Kit. I’ll be right back.”
Jasper hightailed it out of the musty pantry to see about her brother.

Buck

The house was a piece of shit. On a quiet, cozy street it was an eyesore. Boarded, abandoned, and inhaling its last breath. Buck smelled rot and decay. The wood swelled and them termites, yeah. They were eating good. Mother fuckers. Nobody should be living in this house. It was one light breeze away from collapsing. He heard every creak, groan, and snap. Beams screamed under their weight and bolts rattled.

“She shouldn’t be staying here, mama.”
“I was about to say the same. This place is a ruin. I’m wondering how much Hawk Shade got outta her. It ain’t worth more than ten thousand. Knowing his greedy ass he milked the poor woman.”
“You know it too.”

Buck opened a crooked cupboard door and let it slap to a close. Her house was in dire need of an overhaul. There wasn’t shit worth repairing, everything had to go. Down to the nails.
Jasper’s voice was a nice distraction. She entered the kitchen with a stout young man who was much older than he appeared. He cradled an ugly, fat, hairy cat and shook his head.
“What a—Jasper are staying here? It smells terrible. I can taste the mildew. I can get sick. My chest feels funky…”

Nieema hummed in her way and twirled, facing the duo. They were kin, Buck saw it in the eyes. As his wife dallied and pulled on a wobbly drawer, he got to thinking.
“This fella is right, don’t ya know.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Well…” Nieema examined the sink and clucked her tongue. “It’s a health hazard, a health violation. I wouldn’t allow nobody to stay up in here, much less let you buy the place. The realtor was wrong, Jasper. Now, if you want us to fix the house fine. But I can’t imagine y’all staying here overnight. I know you demonic and all, but it smells nasty, looks worse and where is this man gonna sleep? Like I said, I can—“

The second a Wicker Spider come bursting through the floor, Buck pushed the soft fella into the pantry and slammed the door. The eight-legged beast was foul, quick, and mad as a wet hen. They clawed for Jasper who had jumped on the counter.
Nieema was bucking on the fucker like the rodeo goddess she was.
“Don’t worry, mama! Imma—“ He spotted a cast iron skillet in a box and snatched it. The creature with razor thorns lining each limb flailed about and lunged at him. As Jasper screamed and the man in the closet cried, Buck bashed the thousand-eyed freak in the head. “That’s it, baby! Get that sucka!”
Nieema tore into its gray, fibrous exoskeleton. “Don’t let it scratch you!”
“WomanI been fight—“

He danced with the screeching as it tried and failed to throw his wife off. With a final blow, he called every root beneath and above. Vines, nettles, brambles, and barbed boughs fractured planks and studs. They snaked through wallpaper, around rusted pipes, and weaseled through outlets.
From below and behind, branches and trunks pierced the giant bug, spraying guts everywhere.
Nieema shred them to bits until it collapsed in a heap and wheezed. Their neon green eyes flickered and died as its vitality waned.

“Well at least there won’t be much to dismantle up in here.”
Nieema laughed and Buck rushed to her aid. He helped his sweet darlin’ down off the beast.
“Don’t be funny, Buck. She’s terrified.” Nieema extended a gentle hand and Jasper squeezed it. She helped the shaken woman onto her feet. “I think you got more than a termite infestation. Which is even more reason for you and the—“
Jasper cursed and waved at the mess Buck done made.
“My brother!”
“Oh my. Honey, I am sorry. Buck, get the man outta there!”
“Yes ma’am.”
Buck, thanks to his Drendt side, had a way with nature and a strong connection plants. The mess of thorns, sticks, and needles parted for him like any pair of curtain might. He rushed to free poor boy.

“Oh my god is that Wicker Spider?!” Jasper;s kin balked, holding their cat close.
“Mhm.”
“How did it get here?”
“Probably migrated or was brought over by a no good sumabitch. You let these heffas start making babies and you’ll be in a world of trouble. They love meat, ya know?”
“Meat?”
The man was sweating now, and that cat was a fuckin’ mess. His deep brick complexion was washed and damp. Given how his horns were sawed down Buck would wager he wasn’t no killing demon.

“They sure not herbivores,” Nieema said. “Now, seeing as your kitchen is gone and we don’t know if this thing has created a nest, I think you should stay someplace else.”
Jasper nodded as she tugged her brother’s arm. She looked him over and agreed. “Okay. Yeah. Whatever. We’ll get a hotel and—“
“Didn’t nobody say nothing about a hotel, Missy.”
Jasper whipped her head around. “Wait, what?”
“We have more than enough room on our ranch.”
“Nieema, I—“
“That’s settled. Come on now. Get a bag and let’s get going. I got ox tails and rice on the menu.”
Jasper looked to Buck, as if he’d intervene. First of all, what Nieema says goes. And second, he wanted and needed to know her better. This was a fine invitation and beneficial for everyone involved. He smiled and nodded, his wife was never wrong about these things.

Chapter One: In Which A Demon Needs Help And A Hug

^{CW: Explicit language, dark roleplay,}

Jasper

Boxes gnashed their teeth, daring to bite her fucking head off. With even more in the moving pod, Jasper was in over her horns and didn’t know where to start. Moving alone was hell, and she’d been there. No, like she’d lived in hell for most of her life. As a succubus and adviser to Duke of the Fourth Seal, she knew a little something about hell.
This was it.

Handling another taped and lopsided box, Jasper climbed the stairs. She stepped with caution, avoiding holes. Her new house was two hundred years old and a steal. Jasper wanted a home she could grow with and thanks to the success of her creative streak, life was better. Not great, but good.

“Could be worse,” she mumbled, entering the master. Or something like it. Unnamable substances stained tattered strips of wallpaper and the ceiling. “Well, fuck.” She dropped the box of Petite Pop figures and huffed. This was an impulse buy. She’d come up on a few dollars and lost her goddamn mind. With only ten years worth of top-side living under her belt, she still had much to learn. With no help from her father or mother, Jasper was on her own. She didn’t want to hump her way to the money like most of her siblings. Nah. She had her own plans and way of hoarding coins.

“And I’ve done well,” she admitted to a stuffy, dust-filled quiet. The master was nothing more than squealing floorboards, a queen-sized bed, and her ancient laptop. Windows with no drapes was ghetto, but they were boarded anyway.
“This was sooooo, stupid.” Taking it all in Jasper stomped her foot and yelped as her boot fractured what was left of creaking, rickety planks.
Splintered wood snagged and scratched her ankle. “This is fu-ow!” She yanked her poor foot loose and flailed, dropping on her ass. Jasper massaged torn skin and grunted.
“What the hell am I going to do?”

With a telling moisture on her butt, she sighed. This house was a shit hole. Falling apart at the literal seams. She gestured at a giant crack behind her headboard.
Spiderwebs and must. Mildew and broken pipes. She was about to breathe fire and raze the joint to the ground until a knock at the front door interrupted her bad decision.
Jasper sat, waiting for a second rap. She’d moved to Indigo Plains three days ago and didn’t know a soul in the rural town. Miles from the big, stank city, she had no friends.
A third knock got her up and limping downstairs. She’d heal quicker with a bite of raw sinewy flesh or a sip of male passion, buuuut she had neither at the moment.
From the vestibule, Jasper noted a smiling old, self-tanned lady.
Opening the door, Jasper grinned. “Hello.”

“Why look at you!” The elder beamed, holding a fine-looking roast. “It’s been a while since we done had demons ’round these parts. You are mighty tall, ma’am.”
“I get that a lot. What you got there?”
“Oh, this? It’s my famous rump roast. Jerry, my husband of forty years loves it and so do most folks in the neighborhood. Ask Maryanne and Bob Warring, down the way. They’ll tell ya.”
“I can smell the garlic, Ma’am.”
“No, noooo…call me Sissy. I ain’t been a Ma’am in many moons.”

Jasper laughed, casting her gaze about. It was a hot August afternoon with the heat making cicadas scream. Jasper didn’t have air conditioning and was certain the human woman might faint, Warm for Jasper meant unbearable for a human. Ominous odors and humidity were a bad sign as well.

“I’d invite you inside,” Jasper said, “but this place isn’t so welcoming at the moment.”
Sissy waved a jewelry-adorned hand, her bracelets clanging and glinting in the midday sun. “It’s alright. I can smell the mold. I’d rather not anyhow. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood with a hot meal.”
“You are so kind,” Jasper accepted the heavy ceramic dish and said,“I’ll be sure to give this back.”
The woman wagged a papery finger. “I’ll come uh looking for it. Don’t you worry.”
“Thank you again.”

Sissy giggled and left with the twirl of her tie-dye skirt. She was an adorable elder with pink hair and pure intentions. Her emotions tasted sweet, akin to butterscotch. Jasper snickered, remembering she was probably a hundred years older. With the hot offering in hand, she kicked the door closed and dined in what was considered a kitchen. It was missing a stove and cabinet doors, but it might be nice one day. Jasper stood where the breakfast nook would be and impaled bits with a plastic fork. She attacked steaming beef, carrots, baby reds, and caramelized onions. After a decent burp, she popped open a hot beer and guzzled every ounce.

“That was amazing.” Belly full to bursting she was ready to take on the task at hand. “I have no fucking idea what to do.” She kicked a box of Tupperware and groaned. “Guess I’ll buy some tools and watch DIY videos.”

Nieema

Nieema hated working at the hardware store. It wasn’t fun and it smelled like sawdust. Granted, they cut and sanded wood in-store…for free. Stocking shelves with nails, bits, and such wasn’t her idea of a good time, but it was only fair. Keeping to it, she stacked tubes of caulk into a caddy and bobbed her head to an oldie. She set the playlist and be damned if anybody changed it. For the hundredth time, she’d told them not to touch her music. god forbid she say it again.

“Can I get some help around here?!”
Nieema winced and rounded the stack with her hands full. “Do you need help, sir?”

“You god damn right I do. I come looking for a new chainsaw. What row are they in?”
The man flicked his filthy cowboy hat and spat. He flashed gold fangs and snapped his gum. He was a cruel-looking fella, and Nieema cleared her throat.
“They’re uhm—“
“Speak up, shit.”
“Isle three.”
“You one of them Porter gals? I heard about y’all.”
“No, no. I’m not.“

The burly man made off down the row and Nieema hustled behind the counter. Their store wasn’t too big, with only ten aisles, but some folks got lost.

“The—“
“Where the fuck is it?“
“On the back wall.“
He cursed, finding the high-power chainsaws. Nieema didn’t want to know what a man like him would do with the tool. He was a fae of some make, but she was unsure which. His dark eyes and claws didn’t say much

As he stalked toward her, Nieema swallowed and tried not to stutter, it was tough.
He slammed the chainsaw on pockmarked pine that was older than her and spat again.

“How much I owe ya?”
Nieema brushed sweat from her upper lip and glanced at the tag. “Two hundred and—“
“Two what?! Two hundred dollars? Ohhh, what game are you running in here? Are you tryna scam me, darlin’?”
“No! No, I would never.“
With a death glare pinned on her, he squinted. “I got fifty-seven dollars in my pocket. You can take that, or…I can pay in other ways.”
Nieema gasped, her heart daring to claw its way through her chest. She searched for an escape as he rounded the long counter. “Wai—“
“I don’t like no women trying to steal from me. Just cause I’m an honest hardworking man don’t mean I’m dumb.”
“I did—‘
“Shut your mouth!”

Nieema planted both hands on the wall and prayed to the gods. His obsidian gaze flickered with fire and life, he was of the dark fae for certain.

“You’ll take the fifty and I’ll take something from you—“
A single, sharp talon grazed her cheek. He loomed, smelling of sweat, mint, and a cherry-scented smoke. Her throat closed and body quaked.
The bell sounded and Nieema pinched his nipple. Mister Fussy hissed and laughed.

“Ain’t shit funny,” Nieema whispered. “Clean that spit up off my floor or so help me, Buck, I’ll break your behind.”
“You had your chance, darlin’. And I made it easy.” Buck popped his gum, cracked his back, and lept over the counter.
“You hush, I wasn’t giving in so easily.”
“You were sweatin’, I got you on camera.” He pointed at the ball on the ceiling and tried on a wolfish grin. “We’ll play it back during them wee hours and see just how fast you fold.”
Nieema cackled and tended to their customer. Well wasn’t this a sight. A demon, of the red sort. It was safe to say, they were a succubus. Horns and all. She had to be about six-foot and hard bodied.
“Suck my toes, mama. She is rather fine.”
“Would you cut it,” Nieema snipped. “She looks lost.”
“We can help her find any and everything..“
“Did you clean your mess, Buck?”
“Not yet bu—“
“Get to it, old man. I am not playing with you.”
“Don’t pester me, vampire. I’ll give it to you good.”
Nieema winked and patted Buck’s arm. “I can only hope.”

With her freaky deaky husband occupied, Nieema sidled up to the succubus and smiled.
“You need help finding something, suga?”
“Hell yeah..” The tall woman slouched and shrugged. Her voice was rough and sultry. As if she had dragon fire caught in her throat. “I watched videos about paint, floors, mold, pests, and corroded pipes. I don’t even know how to hang a frame. Installing a stove is beyond me. I just bought the house on Weaver Avenue and I’m outta my element. I thought a fixer might be a cute learning experience. I was wrong. The house is shit.“
“Whoa, haaay.” Nieema went to soothe her through touch and stopped herself. Not everyone was tactile, and succubi had a specific way of feeding. “It’s alright. You’re okay. Listen, I come from a long line of contractors. My mama and daddy damn near built this town. If you’d like, I can help.”
“Me too!” Buck said, tossing the broom. “Hello, there, I am Buck Sunside, and this is my lovely daisy of a bride, Nieema. It just so happens we own a contracting firm, the only one in all of Indigo Plains.”

The woman slapped her wide chest and smiled. Her teeth dazzled. Needly as a pin and long. Nieema touched her neck and batted lashes. The towering succubus was a looker, and Buck knew it, too. He was staring hard enough.
They were on the same page. After one-hundred-plus years of marriage and seven kids, they were open to pretty much anything.

“I’m so sorry honey,” Nieema said. “What’d you say your name was?”
“Jasper.”
“How progressive.”
“I thought it was adorable. Everybody says I look like a Jasper.”
“They were right,” Buck added. “So, if you’d like, we can come on by. Take a look around and see what the damage is?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” Jasper grimaced, fiddling with a tangled mess of glittering gold chains. “I heard quotes are expensive.“
“On the house,” Nieema blurted. “Listen here, anyone who moves to Indigo Plains and lays roots is my kinda people. If you’re serious about making this your home, then we are here to help.”
Buck nodded in agreement. “Yup. We don’t need the money with the new mall opening and such. All hands on deck, as they say, we all you got for now.”
“I’m nobody to refuse help.” Jasper shook a box of nails and said, “When can you stop by?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh shit, that’d be great. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“It’s a good thing you walked into our store, Jasper.”
The succubus smiled and placed the box casting nails back on the shelf. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you, Mr and Mrs Sunsde Have a good night.”

Combat boots and a sundress. It was a deadly combination and Nieema knew well what women like that had to offer. Her calves were large and striking. Buck sniffed and Nieema hummed.

“She’ll be in our bed by next Monday.”
Nieema tweaked a brow and craned her neck. Buck was a god amongst man and smiled like he knew. “She’ll be at my feet long before she sits on your crotchety lap, Mista.”
“Oh woman, you underestimate me!”
“She’s young,” Nieema said, shoving Buck aside. “I can smell it.”
“I’d say a century or two.”
“Hm. That’s why you lookin’ crazy, old fool.”
“My heart and soul belong to you, Mrs Sunside. My dick, however—“

Nieema pounced on her man, locking arms and legs around him. He rumbled with mirth as their lips met. Nieema used her mental will to lock the door. They’d be closed for the next fifteen to twenty minutes.

What To Expect From Patchwork and Pitchforks

Set in the fictional town of Indigo Plains, Patchwork and Pitchforks is a paranormal romance serial with splashes of adventure, horror, and mystery. The main couple and cast will encounter strange happenings in the rural town. Magic and mayhem will ensue but just know, romance is the plot. Please do not misunderstand, I write romance. Kissyface and smashing will be the bread and butter of my stories. I love love, intimacy and smut. You will get all of that and more.

You may find throughout this serial supporting characters get some air-time. Yes, there will be sidequests! I love them, I’m so sorrrry. Serials are about ensembles, right? Can’t say who will get what and when, but I will read comments on this.

I am a planster. I know the characters and the setting, that’s it. I will give ocntent warnings as I go.

I know a few straightaway and they are:

Patchwork and Pitchforks

Be prepared for fluff, steam, romance, and paranormal happenings!

After Jasper Marrow relocates to Indigo Plains she’s prepared for paint, hammers, and broken nails. What she finds on moving day is more than she cares to deal with. Busted pipes, growing mold, and an eager-to-please married couple offer too much excitement for one night.

All Jasper wants is her new-ish house fixed and perhaps exorcised. When the happy duo extends a helping hand and free temporary housing, she has no choice but to accept.

This isn’t close to what I normally write, but I wanted something cute on Whitney Houston’s internet. I’ve been trying to do light and fluffy for months. And I don’t know, I thought why not put it out there.

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!

Black Love & Vampires

This is my first read by Nikki Clarke and I was pleasantly surprised. Not only did the steam deliver, but the plot was meaningful. Now, keep in mind, I don’t read dark romance (much) I’m not sure if this counts, but tonally? It is an off-black. With past traumas and hell-on-earth flashbacks of their time as slaves, I thought it was dark and heavy. Which, is fine. I often write about the same subjects when talking about vampires. If, I am writing urban fantasy.

Though the topic may be hard to read for some, don’t let that stop you. This is a story of BLACK LOVE and I for one, loved the moments between Noah and Li were cute and sooooo spicy. They served the latter up quick and in a hurry. Coming in at sixty-ish pages, Taste is a shorty but packed with life and love. I adored it and would categorize it as Erotic Romance. Though my knowledge of the subgenre is loose, I read HELLA erotica shorts. I enjoyed the story of everlasting love and vampires. That is my shit! It’s my bread, butter, jam (i hate jelly), and peanut butter! These two gave me fangs and blood in equal doses!

But again, read them Content Warnings! Pleeeeease. There is on- page, blood, memories of murder, and attempted murder. Also, I’m on the fence about the consent. I think Taste is a solid dubcon. I don’t read books with that trope much but I’m sure it fits.

Horror and Heartstrings

I had a great time this month! And as you can see it’s a mishmash of romance and horror. Two genres I hold dear. I will say, the horror reads were fairly light, nothing too creepy or bleak.

Though, hold up, How to Sell a Haunted House?
Pupkin was a fucking menace and a horrible twisted thing. I know what he truly was but STILL, come onnnn, he was a maniac. He moved mean and did it because he wanted to, because the lil shit thought it was funny.
I woulda tossed his rabid and ratty ass in a WOODCHIPPER! Time to play! Fuck you! And don’t even get me started on the Juggernaut puppet. Holy hellscape, this book was more funny than scary. A bit unnerving if you hate dolls, puppets, and the like. Folks terrified of Slappy from Goosebumps might throw this book across the room and flee in terror.
As for me? It takes something more to rattle my bones. Eg. The Ritual, War of the Worlds, The Willows, and Kane Pixels Backrooms made my guts bubble. I didn’t wanna go to sleep after reading/watching that shit. I don’t want it on my brain, feeding sleep demons or whatever.
Because, you know, like a normal person, I love consuming horror media right before bed.
What a dimwitted badass!
Anyway, liminal space, alien invasion and folk horror give me absolute chills. Creature features, cursed/haunted objects and such, are a good time, I love reading them.
With that said, I rec most of the books here. If you love vampires and monsterfuckery then PLEASE, I implore you to devour Velvet Steel. And if you enjoy lighthearted alien romances, Contagion is delightful. Oh! And if mm is more your jam, The Stallion Ridge series is a fantasy western with spurs, saddles and heart. Give it a shot.

Himbos Have Nerve

One thing I love most about himbo characters besides their blissful, confident ignorance is their wisdom during heated moments. They transform into arrogant intellectuals who have the answers to all your more personal problems.
Scrap may not know the difference between temperature and temperamental, but he knows enough, honey.
After forty years of never getting there, Zion is about to learn what, ‘reach the mountain top’ truly means.

Shifter Cotton Candy

I’m not taking this book seriously at all. It’s cute, fun and sexy. Just a little 25k novella. Nothing too much. It’s a release, a cleanser, a break, and freedom. Low plot, cozy, and warm. Letting other ideas flow and float while writing a series saves my sanity.
This one doesn’t even have a title yet. A himbo lamia (MMC/35), and a chameleon shifter nerd (FMC/40) have crossed paths thanks to the FMC escaping death. I have no idea where they’re going, but I know the FMC has to stay alive long enough for me to find out. Two idiots falling in love. My favorite trope.
Zion and Scrap! Sitting in a tree, K.I.S.S my ass to everyone who tries to gatekeep when it comes to older FMCs and romantasy!