Ok, just for the serious stuff. Anything I write or say in this story is for fictional purposes only, and is not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual, or anyone or thing, especially those with the ability and desire to fight back or bite me. This story may inadvertently and occasionally become obscene, prurient, useless, hate-filled, poisonous, pornographic, frivolous, empty, rotten, bad, disgusting, hostile, repulsive, virulent, infectious… I cannot in any way condone, endorse or take responsibility for such content, it is probably due to a complete lack of coffee, sleep and sex.
While the storyline and what streams over the next few months are mostly mine - I owe the characters and the basis to which I am writing to Charlaine Harris, and I do not make any money or gain anything from doing this except the fantasizing as I wait impatiently for the next book to come out.
Sitting on the front porch of the old farmhouse, in the morning with a steaming cup of coffee had always been a favourite pastime of mine. I looked out over my beautiful driveway, with its expensive gravel, and lined parking area, and smiled to myself. I was thinking how ironic it was that Eric Northman would make sure that my home had its proper and required maintenance and upkeep while, the man who "said" he loved me, would turn a blind eye to my very human problems, like plumbing and driveways – something a single girl can usually count on her boyfriend for.
It didn't do me any good to sit there, and turn these things over and over in my mind – because Bill Compton, wasn't my boyfriend anymore. He had sold me to the Queen for the chance to rise in the ranks of vampires – a social climber – as my gran would have said. He researched, me and my family, and thanks to my cousin Hadley, the queen's lover – had found out that I was a telepath, something the queen coveted as extremely useful.
When Bill Compton came to Bon Temps, he sought me out, at my job as a bar maid at Merlottes. He had done just enough homework to know that I was generally thought of as "that crazy Sookie Stackhouse" – because of my abililty that everybody in Bon Temps knew about but no one would acknowledge. He paid attention to me, he spoke to me, and his mind, like all vampires for me – was blessedly silent. No, abohorrent thoughts about my breasts, or my backside or even about how dull and uninteresting I was. That made his company a pleasure to be around – you have no idea how much impact knowing what someone is thinking on date, can be.
But Bill betrayed me, he sold me for 30 pieces of silver – his title, his rank amongst the vampire – and I was jaded and hurt, and I had rescinded his invitation to my home, to my life. He was dead to me – how funny, considering he was already dead... I decided that this was quite enough wallowing, and stood up to walk inside my house.
After putting my coffee cup in the sink – I walked back into my bedroom, with its ajoining bathroom. I took a quick shower, running the razor over my legs, and making sure everything was smooth and silky. After drying off, I put my hair up into a quick ponytail and picked out bikini. I was pleased to see that it was a little looser than the last time I had worn it. I grabbed my radio, sunglasses and coconut oil, and went to lay on the lounger. I liked to get a little sun in the afternoon – I know it's bad for your skin – but I figured that we all have vices, and mine is this one – sue me. I had only been laying out for about a half hour, when I heard a vehicle coming down the driveway. I looked – to see my brother Jason's black truck, resplendent in its pink flamed glory, shined and waxed to a glossy finish.
He jumped out of the truck, and came over to sit on the ground next to my lounger.
"How are you sis? Lookin' good," he said. His eyes, strayed to the back of the yard, where the propane tank sat, and then did a general scan of the rest of the property. Jason always kept a keen eye on what the old property looked like, I think part of him still felt like this house, my house, was partially his. "You got the place lookin' really smart. You had someone out here helping you?"
I looked up at him, and sighed, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of most things around here, as long as they aren't too hard."
"I still don't understand why one of those vampire guys don't help you out around here... They are supposedly so strong and fast, they could do most jobs twice as fast as one of us could." He looked at me, appraisingly. "How many of them are you dating right now anyhow?"
"Jason Stackhouse, after all the girls that you've run through, you should talk." I glared up at him, then said resignedly, "I'm not dating anyone right now."
"Not even Vampire Bill? He seemed like a nice enough guy, for... Well, a deader." He paused. "Well I guess your business is your own, I'm sure not going to tell you how to live your life. Anyhow, so the reason I'm here is to find out whether I can go in the shed and grab the post digger Gran had. I am building a deck off the back for a hot tub, and I want to dig the holes." Jason had my parents old house, a house we'd both inherited when my parents died. He routinely did upgrades, mostly structure stuff, roof, new porch on the front, this deck.
"Go ahead, you know where it is." I watched him walk and get it. He came walking back over, and tossed the tool in the back of his truck bed. He opened the door, and looked back at me.
"You know, if Bill didn't screw up too bad, maybe you should give him another shot. I liked him for you." He didn't say another word, just got into his truck. The engine roared to life, and he drove down the driveway.
I liked him for me too, Bill was the first man to ever kiss me, to make love to me – to make me feel normal, not like Crazy Sookie Stackhouse. He broke my heart, when he went back to his maker Lorena. He cheated on me, and he lied. Bill would never have that chance again. Never.
I spent a few more hours in the sun, baking to a toasty gold before the sun began to fad in the early afternoon. I gathered up my things and went back into the house. In the kitchen, I did up a few dishes I had in the sink, and wiped down the front of the old fridge. I walked down the hall, towards my bedroom, eyeing the house as I went. Most things looked spic and span, if not a little threadbare.
In my bedroom, I grabbed a pair of black shorts, and my white boat-neck Merlotte's shirt, standard bar maid uniform. I pulled my thick blonde hair into a high ponytail, and snapped a black bow onto the top, and made sure all stray hairs were gelled firmly in place. I grabbed my purse and walked out into the early evening. I was working a close shift at the bar, and it was a Friday – my tips would be good, if I busted my butt.
It was dusk and the haze of pollen was heavy in the humid air. My house was in the middle of a clearing set aways back from the road, inside the forest. Normally I liked the solitude it provided, but right now – something was wrong. I caught a faint trace of otherness in the air, and I realised that the sounds of the crickets and frogs had suddenly ceased. I heard movement in the woods to the right of my parking area. It was coming fast, crashing through the underbrush. Caught halfway between the car and the house, I chose the car – and ran for it, keys in my hand, ready to stuff in the ignition. I had just slammed the door to my car, when a face slammed up against the window. I shrieked and shoved down the door lock. I jammed the keys in and started the car, when the window suddenly imploded and a hand reached in a grabbed me around my neck. I fought and screamed, and grabbed the hand clamped around me, that was slowly and inescapably pulling me through the window. The small pieces of safety glass dug into my back as I was dragged through the window, and I could feel my skin tearing and bleeding. I kicked and punched, but it was like punching a piece of iron for the effect it had. The hand was still around my neck, and he turned me to face him. I looked through dimming sight at a vampire, with red hair – and bright blue eyes. His rage was apparent, and he looked insane. In one last coherent thought, I thought at Bill, like a bullet was that thought – to have him hear me, to know that I needed help. He'd had my blood, he should be able to hear me. Then as I lost consciousness, I saw the vampires fangs as he lowered them to my neck and bit me.