Chapter 03: I Fall Behind

CONTENT WARNING: A suicide attempt is mentioned in this chapter.


Twenty-four hours after I’d stepped foot into the Rustin mall to find Sam a better Christmas gift, I arrived at the Las Vegas Airport via private jet. Niall had been “good enough” to hide me for nineteen of those hours and then escort me safely to a small airfield where I was handed off to Quinn of all people!

During my time with my great-grandfather, he had watched me like a hawk, especially after I excused myself to go to the bathroom and swallowed the whole bottle of Tylenol that was in my purse. Niall had found me, and he had called Ludwig. The fucking doctor had “popped” in and forced me to drink a fucking tonic of some kind!

Once upon a time, I’d liked her. Not anymore.

“I thought that doctors were supposed to do no fucking harm,” I muttered incoherently.

“What?” Quinn asked as he took my arm to lead me from the plane. I recoiled from his touch. At Niall’s bidding, Quinn had been on suicide watch too, and I’d had to endure him thinking about how he’d fulfilled a similar duty with his mother.

I grew physically ill when drawing the comparison made me more attractive to the weretiger’s eyes! Talk about a fucking hero complex!

Of course, one couldn’t really blame Quinn for being fucked up; he’d been a teenager when he’d first had to save his mother from killing herself. However, I didn’t have it in me to feel compassion for him—though an “unbroken” person would have.

Simply put, I had no heart left to generate compassion.

And the pity in Quinn’s eyes—mixed with longing (as if my fiancé hadn’t just died!)—had been enough to send me to the toilet to dry heave several times. And—of course—I hadn’t been allowed to shut the fucking door and retch in private! Maybe Quinn thought I would try to flush myself out into the air through the tiny opening of the toilet!

If only I could have.

I hugged my purse to me when Quinn tried to take it. I had brought nothing with me to Las Vegas except for my purse and the clothing I was wearing—though my purse had already been emptied of any potential weapons by my “helpful” great-grandfather.

But inside was a little album that Gran had bought me for my birthday several years before. I was grateful for the pictures in it, but I found myself wishing I’d taken the time to fill it up since so many of the people I loved could no longer pose for pictures.

“All gone,” I whispered.

This time, Quinn was able to make out my words, but—thankfully—he didn’t ask me to explain them.

Quinn put his big paw against the small of my back almost possessively.

I cringed, but closed my eyes and let the weretiger guide my steps. I didn’t want to see whatever new hell was coming until I had to.

Instead, I thought about the day before. After leaving the JC Penny children’s furniture section, Niall had taken me to a service staircase. There, he’d made me leave my phone behind before “popping” us to a “magic-cloaked” safe-house he kept in the area. When I asked why I couldn’t simply stay there forever—instead of get bonded to the caped vampire king—Niall shared that the magic around the safe house wasn’t “meant to last.”

It seemed that nothing was—meant to last, that is.

Except maybe sorrow. And guilt.

Since it had been daytime when Niall’s newest batch of enemies killed my remaining family members and my fiancé, Cataliades had to wait to negotiate with de Castro until it was after sunset in Nevada.

I suppose I should have been nervous about the negotiations, but I was just numb. And after my suicide attempt, Ludwig gave me something that put me to sleep for most of the night.

I chuckled darkly, finding it ironic that I’d been given more drugs after my near drug overdose.

“It’s like rain on my wedding day,” I sang softly and off-key.

“Sookie?” Quinn asked, pushing me along when I stopped for a moment.

I opened my eyes and smiled my crazy smile at him. “It’s like good advice that I just wouldn’t take. Isn’t that ironic? Don’t ya think?”

Even more pity in his eyes, Quinn shook his head and pulled me along.

Maybe he just didn’t appreciate Alanis Morissette.

“Yeah—I really do think,” I answered my own question morosely.

Before handing me off to Quinn and telling me goodbye—supposedly “forever” this time (why did I doubt that?)—Niall shared that the negotiations with de Castro had gone even better than hoped for.

Niall said that Mr. Cataliades would give me all the details, but that Felipe had agreed to forego sex with me for the first five years, but—after that—I’d be expected to have carnal relations with him at least bi-monthly.

However, despite the fact that Felipe was “waiving the right of my body for a time”—Niall’s words, not mine—the king and I would begin exchanging blood that very night. Initially, we would exchange until a bond formed—which would likely take three exchanges over three nights, though sometimes more exchanges were needed. After that, I’d be required to exchange with de Castro once a year.

But I would be “feeding” him twice per month—unless I wanted to do it more often, which Niall suggested I consider since the king was being so generous to me.

I had looked at Niall as if he were an alien; maybe he was. After all, the very thought of a single exchange or feeding with Felipe made me cringe!

Niall hadn’t seemed to notice my nausea. He’d continued by telling me that, in addition to giving up my blood and eventually my body, I would have to be the king’s “date” to approximately fifteen “State affairs” per year. I would be “on call” as State telepath forty hours per week. I would be given the pool house on Felipe’s main estate to live in, and I would be able to live alone. However, I would not be allowed to leave the estate grounds during the daytime until Niall confirmed that the current Fae threat was over. And—even then—I would always be escorted by guards.

My food would be provided by a gourmet chef, though I would have a full kitchen and access to a grocery shopper if I decided to make any dishes for myself. I would have access to the king’s grounds, which included swimming pools, a tennis center, a bowling alley, a stable, and a nine-hole golf course. If escorted by vampires, I would be allowed to enjoy the Vegas night-life twice per week—as long as the king approved of my excursions and didn’t need me for work.

In other words, I would be a pretty bird in a cage.

I wasn’t surprised when I was met at a limousine by Mr. Cataliades as well as a whole bunch of Were guards. The demon lawyer had a somber expression upon his face as he guided me into the vehicle which would take me to my luxurious prison.

I was gladder than I could say that Quinn said his goodbye’s right before the limo door closed.

A small comfort. But a comfort nonetheless.

I’d long-since run out of tears, and I kept my eyes forward during the trip, thankful that the demon didn’t attempt any small talk on the way to de Castro’s estate.

And what an estate it was!

At any other time, my breath might have been taken away by the lush property that seemed to pop up out of the desert. All of the buildings (and there seemed to be a lot of them in addition to the main house) were constructed in the Spanish style—with bright white exteriors and reddish stucco roofs.

And the main house? Well—I’d never seen a house so large or so imposing. It was all right angles—squares and triangles. It seemed to be hiding courtyards as if covetous of the spaces—perfect for a vampire.

The landscape around the main house looked like something out of a movie—a movie with a lot of special effects. Unrealistically bright flowers were everywhere—placed in well-ordered flower beds that each seemed to have a theme. I’d been to a botanical gardens once, and the fact that something grander was recreated in the middle of the desert was as impressive as it seemed wasteful.

I found myself hoping that the pool house was surrounded by cacti.

It wasn’t.

Still, I was glad when the limo driver skipped the main house and pulled up directly to the pool house—my new house. It was larger than Gran’s home!

“There are actually several pools on the estate,” Mr. Cataliades informed me, as if he were a real estate agent trying to sell me the property. “The pool attached to your home will be for your private usage.”

I nodded at him as I accepted the information indifferently. Before the scars left behind by Thing 1 and Thing 2 had left me too self-conscious to sunbathe—before life had ripped out my desire to do anything “enjoyable”—I would have relished the idea of a private pool.


Well—now the pool just seemed like a good place to drown myself.

A thirty-something-year-old woman, Jean, who was, apparently, to be my personal assistant was waiting to give me a tour of my new house. Oddly enough, she reminded me a bit of Margie, who had likely given up on my returning for Sam’s bracelet.

I wondered what Margie must have thought of me.

I shook my head, refusing to allow those thoughts—any thoughts—to take hold, and I followed Jean as she led me through the pool house, which I figured was called as that just because it was close to a pool.

I had to admit that the house was lovely. The décor was mostly neutral in color—beige, white, and gray—but I was told that I had “no budgetary limits” when it came to any redecorating I wanted to do.

I nodded emotionlessly as Jean showed me the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, the office, two guest rooms (which I couldn’t imagine ever needing), and a large master suite, complete with an opulent bathroom. The final stop was at a huge walk-in closet attached to the bathroom. Jean apologized for having time to fill only one-quarter of the closet before I arrived.

She assured me—as if I needed assurances—that representatives from several area stores would be visiting beginning that very night with plenty of wares to augment the little she’d done.

After that, I was led back to the kitchen, where I met Stephan, who was to be my personal chef. He bowed a lot and gave me paperwork to “fill out” so that he would be able to anticipate “my food requirements.”

After I politely declined lunch—much to Stephan’s chagrin—the chef told me that the refrigerator was stocked with finger foods if I changed my mind. And then he informed me that my dinner would be served at 7:00 p.m. sharp. Having heard that I was from Louisiana, he’d be “presenting me with a buffet of dishes to remind me of home.”

A knot formed in my throat, but I thanked Stephan nonetheless. As he turned to leave, I stopped him. “Stephan?”

“Yes, Miss?” he asked.

“And extra food I don’t use—uh—it won’t go to waste. Will it? I mean—a buffet is too much for just one person. And—my appetite isn’t much to speak of.”

He looked at me, clearly surprised. His mind told me that he’d cooked for many a pet during his two-decade career; in fact, he’d made his living catering to vampires by catering for their “food” even before the Great Reveal. Most of those pets had been vapid, selfish creatures according to Stephan’s mind. Needless to say, none of them had given a damn about wasting food.

“There are many guards on the property,” he said. “I can make any leftovers to them—if you’d like, Miss Stackhouse.”

“Thanks,” I said.

As soon as Stephan left, Jean took over the talking again, informing me of my appointments for that night and the next day. I would be meeting with the king at 9:00 p.m. Then, I had some appointments with tailors and designers.

However, after that, I’d be “allowed” to settle in and sleep.

Jean said that she’d arrive at the pool house at 8:00 p.m. to “help me dress.” Apparently, the rest of my day was allocated to me going over the contract that had been negotiated with Felipe. Meanwhile, the rest of her day—according to her mind—would be spent arranging for a hair stylist, a nail artist (were they really called artists?), and a masseuse. It seemed that my new house was destined to become a personal spa the next day.

Given how I looked to her, Jean thought that her work was cut out for her. She wished that the demon didn’t need my time so that she could get the salon people over immediately. And she worried that the king might not be pleased enough by my appearance that night.

Of course, the personal assistant had no idea that my family and fiancé had been slaughtered the day before. So it wasn’t her fault that she wondered why I wasn’t more pleased with my new situation. Plus, it didn’t help that Jean had always wanted the life I was now getting.

She could have it.

I was grateful when—with a curtsy of sorts—Jean finally left the demon lawyer and me alone “to work,” taking her internal judgments about me with her.

“Would you like to freshen up before we go over your contract?” Mr. Cataliades asked kindly.

I shook my head. I’d had on the same clothes for a long time now, but I was loathe to take them off. It felt like—once I did—the last vestiges of my previous life would be taken from me.

Like everything—everyone—else.

Mr. Cataliades began leading me through the minutia of my contract professionally and mechanically.

My residence—to be chosen especially for me by the king.

My personal chef—to be chosen especially for me by the king.

My personal assistant—to be chosen especially for me by the king.

Access to various amenities on the grounds.

A list of things I could “choose” to have: a tennis instructor, a golf instructor, a riding instructor, a ballroom dancing instructor, a personal trainer, a tutor for any subject I wanted to learn about.

I could learn to play any instrument I wanted—from the piano to the piccolo.

I would have an unlimited clothing allowance—with the caveat that my “work garments” would all need Jean’s approval, for she would be aware of my clothing needs for particular settings and occasions.

A “set” work schedule of fifteen hours per week—11:00 p.m. to 4:00 a.m. per night from Thursday to Saturday. I could also be called upon to work up to twenty-five additional hours per week—either day or night as needed—with Jean alerting me to my “flex” schedule each evening at 8:00 p.m.

The demon went on and on, spending a lot of time describing the details of the blood exchanges between de Castro and me. They would start that very night. Thankfully—because the king “respected my modesty and need to grieve”—our initial bond would be formed by drinking each other’s blood out of a chalice. The next two years’ exchanges would be simultaneous drinking from the wrist. The next two would be simultaneous drinking from the neck—so as to “encourage more intimacy.” And—on our “fifth anniversary” as a bonded “couple”—I would be expected to “attend to the king fully,” which clearly meant having sex as we renewed the bond.

Thereafter, unless “otherwise informed,” I would be expected to visit Felipe’s bed on the first and fifteenth day of each month—dates to correspond with my feeding of him. In other words, my sex with the king would be scheduled.

The next part of the contract dealt with the bi-monthly feedings that I would be required to give to Felipe. These feedings would begin on January 1. And—redundantly (but didn’t most contracts contain redundancies?)—Mr. Cataliades told me that they would occur on the first and fifteenth of each month. For the first two feedings, Felipe would “generously” allow my blood to be drawn by syringe, and he would drink it bagged. Not surprisingly, the contract stipulated a precise amount to be drawn.

Beginning on February 1, 2008, Felipe would be able to take my blood from a variety of arteries or veins—depending upon his “mood.” Mr. Cataliades listed all of the vessels’ scientific names, but I had no idea where they were located (even with my SAT studying—I hadn’t gotten to them yet). The demon lawyer “helpfully” provided a diagram. All of the “allowed” vessels were located in “PG” places on my body. My entire arm was fair game—from my palm to my arm pit (yuck). Several places on my legs were “approved” too, but all of them were below the knees. Felipe could also take from my neck.

Until our relationship became sexual, however, Felipe had agreed to keep his “grip” on me “non-sexual in nature” as he drank from me.

I said nothing as the bondings, the beddings, and the feedings were described. I found it ironic that I now truly understood what Eric might have felt like during his negotiations with Freyda. Did Eric view sex and blood swaps as chores to “get through?” Were all of his “visits” to the queen’s bed on a schedule? Or had he decided to share Freyda’s bed more often than required—because the sex was pleasurable?

I knew that Eric, who was such a sexual creature by nature, wouldn’t deny himself physical pleasure. I cringed. Vampires weren’t known for fidelity—though there had been a time when Eric was faithful to me. I knew that time was over, but I still didn’t like to think about all the sexual encounters Eric must have had since he and I parted ways—just as I’m sure that he wouldn’t have liked to contemplate me having sex with others.

I shook myself out of this thought and followed what the demon lawyer was saying for a moment.

Apparently—de Castro wasn’t going to deny me other sexual partners. As long as I fulfilled my “commitments to him,” I was allowed to take “non-vampire” lovers—as many as I wanted—pending background checks and “Magisterial approval.” In fact, the contract was worded in such a way as to encourage me to seek short-term or long-term bedfellows. And, at my request, any humans or two-natured men with whom I wanted to pursue “a long-term relationship” could be glamoured so that they were unaware of my sexual obligations to the king each month.

I found myself numbly contemplating the needlessness of going over the contract. I knew that I would never allow myself to have any kind of relationship with another—just as I knew that I would find a way to die as soon as possible. In fact, I’d already made a mental inventory of all the weapons at my disposal.

It seemed that Chef Stephan brought his own knives when he cooked, but I figured there had to be some in the kitchen.

The gas oven was another option.

Belts, sheets or clothing could be used to choke or to hang myself.

And surely there was a hair dryer in the place! Bath + hair dryer = sizzle.

And—even if there wasn’t, I had a tub. Heck, I had a whole pool—where I could drown myself.

Yes—I comforted myself with the thought that there would be ways to die once I was finally alone, for I had resolved to do just that. I wouldn’t be de Castro’s telepath and eventual whore. And—God forbid—what if the king decided to turn me?

No—if possible—I planned to kill myself before de Castro had any control over me. Even if I didn’t have the opportunity to do it before the first blood swap, I was determined that I would take a nice, long bath as soon as the sun rose the next morning.

A bath I didn’t intend to leave.

Until then, I would nod compliantly and sign my name to the contract. I would eat the meal brought to me at 7:00 p.m. Heck! Good, old-fashioned Louisiana comfort food sounded like an ideal last meal!

I would show the king the appropriate level of gratitude and respect. I would even “work with” Jean to help myself be made “presentable.” I would do whatever was needed until I had my chance—to die.


A/N: Hello all! I hope you enjoyed the chapter—not that the subject matter is “enjoyable.”

A lot of you guessed correctly that Sookie would respond to her despair by trying to kill herself. I certainly don’t advocate suicide, but—if I were in a situation similar to Sookie’s—I would contemplate it. Heck, there was a time in my life when I was in pain and didn’t see a happy outcome for myself. More than one time actually. And I would think things like, “I could just drive my car off that curve with no guardrail, and no one would ever miss me.” I was lucky that I didn’t do anything to myself; I was wrong that no one would have cared. Eventually, life got better, and I stopped thinking about harming myself. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m grateful I survived those hard times—learned from them—so that I could appreciate and enjoy the better ones. And my wish for others is that they never succumb to despair to the point that they might try to harm themselves. If anyone out there reading this is in that state, all I can say is that things can get better. And I hope and pray you’ll hold on.

Until next time,


FYI: I’m asking the wonderful Sephrenia to do a few character banners for new characters or casting for this story.  I’ll also be reusing some banners from other characters where Sephrenia has already captured the character for me.  Of course, we already know what Sookie and Eric look like.  😉  I should have showed you Niall last time, so I’ll do that now and show you Desmond too.  Many thanks to the talented Sephrenia.

And also–always–many thanks to Kleannhouse, who always “cleans house” on my drafts.  🙂



Desmond Earned

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53 thoughts on “Chapter 03: I Fall Behind

  1. Dude. I am so depressed right now. I pretty much want to bitch slap Niall and castrate Felipe. Cannot wait for her to time travel and am curious how that occurs. Just hoping its soon because just reading about Felipe and their contract has me running for a disinfectant bath.

  2. What the *fuck* is Niall thinking?!? How could he possibly think this would be good for Sookie, or that she would accept it? I just imagine how Eric would react if/when he found out about this! Nuclear meltdown comes to mind. So does the word “rampage”.

    Once again, that time jump *cannot* happen fast enough! Please, please let it happen before she has to do anything with Creepy Felipe. That poor girl has been through enough emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, she cannot possibly handle anymore.

  3. As I was reading this chapter and one before it,I had to keep reminding myself, she will get a chance to fix this, must not forget that and get too upset about her misery and depression. I have to imagine whatever is going to cause her to be able to do that has to happen pretty quickly since she is pretty determined to kill herself as soon as she is alone.
    Sharing your own battle with considering suicide, I can only say how glad I am you were able to hang on and realize your life does have value. I lost my mother to suicide when I was 13, the damage it did to those of us she left behind was devastating. But I also understand that someone who is clinically depressed can get to a point where they cannot see anything except ending their younger sister went through it in her twenties (part of the devastation I mentioned above), she was 11 when our mother died and I think she was the one most impacted by our loss. The good news is that while it took years (several suicide attempts and hospitalizations) she is now recovered and living a happy life. (of course since she is my younger sister, I still think she’s a little nuts, but that has nothing to do with a clinical issue).
    This may come under the heading of TMI, I guess your story touched me more than I realized.

    1. I’m glad you were touched by it. It’s my belief that many perfectly “normal” people think about killing themselves at some point. Unless they have that kind of deep-seated depression your mother or sister suffered from, these thoughts are likely fleeting and don’t have a great affect on life. Others think about it a lot and see it as a way out of suffering, even when there are better ways out. They just don’t see them. I am so sorry about your mom and am glad to hear your sister is better. I have a group therapy session with others that suffer from fibromyalgia a few times a month, and several of them have made attempts because the quality of their lives has been low at times. Luckily, they failed and looked for help. Anyway, thanks so much for sharing your story.

      1. You have fibro?!?! Did I know this already? I might have known this already and forgotten but ice had fibro for 18 years and it’s finally starting to get the best of me. No money for massages etc which help and because I’m single I’m forced to keep working when all I want to do is stop and rest for a couple weeks to restore back to a decent level. I also have depression and other things and have tried to cease existing several times. The pain is agonising and coupled with the emotional pain, I just don’t get a rest from it. It’s one of the reasons I tend to not handle angst well and require spoilers frequently for almost everything.

        I am identifying with the emotional state of this Sookie too much which is why every fibre of my being is screaming for her to get help / time jump soon.

        How the hell Niall thinks all this is a good idea. Something hinky is going on….

        1. Yep. I started developing symptoms about a decade ago, but they have gotten progressively worse, and I was just diagnosed last year. After about 20 misdiagnoses. (And a lot of doctors seeming to think everything was in my head. That was the hardest part.) For me the worst symptoms relate to headaches and vertigo, but I often think my digestive system is to blame for everything. I did gluten free for 6 months and no change. Dairy free too. I keep trying to plug along even when I teeter a bit on my feet. Writing has helped me to relax a bit, but it’s hard to do with the headaches sometimes. The hardest thing is knowing that there’s never going to be a “better.” Just a slightly better. Just better days than others. That’s why I go to my group. A lot of people don’t understand what it’s like to never feel good. But I understand. Some people don’t understand how pissed off we are at ourselves every time we break plans–to the point that we don’t even want to make them anymore. But I know a lot of people who are worse off than me: people in more pain and in harder situations–one person with scars on her wrists because she was desperate to do anything she could to make her head hurt less than something else. I hug them and cry with them and do my best for them. I’ll pray for you–that you have more “better” days than “worse” ones in the time to come. .

      2. I think one of the differences between what happened with my mom and my sister had to do with the time it happened. My mother died in 1961. People didn’t go to psychiatrists then (at least not people who weren’t wealthy). And there was shame associated with mental illness. I’ll never forget my aunt telling me not to tell anyone about how she died. So I was given a lie to explain what happened.. By the time my sister started having problems, there were treatment programs and help and the stigma wasn’t nearly what it was in my mom’s time.

  4. I have a feeling that this isn’t happening and Sookie’s having a nightmare, or perhaps it is and that when she makes her suicidal gesture, Claudine will be waiting and will give her the chance to go back and change things. Otherwise, I can’t stand thinking of Sookie in a gilded cage trapped by Niall for Felipe this way. I must say that it’s one of the most alternative creative plots imagined! I knew you would give it great justice! Such wonderful teamwork as usual, ladies!

    I feel the need to elaborate on the ending A/N. As a family member who ‘survived,’ a suicide, I’ll echo Kat’s words that it’s wrong thinking no one cares. If you’re feeling this despair right now and contemplating anything of the sort, please call someone or get to the nearest ER and ask for help. I can’t even begin to describe the everlasting pain and endless destruction you will create by taking, or attempting to take, your own life. Believing others would be better off couldn’t make you more wrong. The affects of your suicide will be long-lasting and reach into generations. They may also lead to attempts or gestures by other family members. Would you really want that as your legacy? Realize that someone you love will have to clean up your messes, living with them afterward. Then think of how selfish that is. Think of those you love and call someone now. You are more loved than you realize and you are significant to someone.

  5. I think anyone who experienced that amount of loss in a matter of hours would react in exactly the same manner that Sookie did. And, faced with the fuckery that her life has become thanks to her grandfather (did you have to picture Liam Neeson as Niall? I love Liam Neeson and I can’t believe Liam would let this happen to his granddaughter. Did you not see any of the Taken movies?) 🙂 How on God’s green earth is any of what he has proposed good for anyone? And, Mr Cataliedes seems so bland about the whole thing…it’s like Sookie woke up in a bizarro world. I won’t blame her if she jumps in the pool and tries again.

    And, I agree with you Kat, CH hated her characters and the whole universe she created by the end. That is why I will never ever read anything else that she creates again.

  6. Bless her heart. Sookie has been through so much, but even strong people have their breaking points. Oddly enough, I’m more disgusted with Niall than the caped wonder. He has done his own granddaughter so dirty! And Eric… where is Eric? Will Sookie have to bond with de castro? That would be almost as repulsive as sleeping with him, especially since she knows what a bond made of affection can be like… and this will be nothing like that!

    1. Eric stuck in Oklahoma, he cannot contact her because of his contract with Freyda not allowing it , he signed on a 100 extra years to protect the love of his life. I am sure when he hears of what happened he will be furious but what can he do? He is not royal just a consort and stuck in a contract he had no control over except a few clauses and amendums ky

  7. I can’t say I blame her at all. It’s her worst nightmare come true. Hopefully she’ll realize that she can’t always protect herself and that’s all Eric tried to do every single time. Intrigued as to how this will play out and I also see Eric going berserker.

  8. OMG Quinn ! Eeeewwww. Oh why him? Sookie could have gone to Stan. He was nice.
    I totally would try to off myself. I can see it by the way she’s planning it. What I am surprised about that Niall didn’t tell them that she tried to, and get someone to “watch” her. I also don’t understand how this contract can over step the one that Eric had made? Pam ! Does she find out what happened? Can she talk to Sookie?

    I think at some point in life, some will think about it. My friend has been gone since 1997. I’m glad your still here.

  9. O Sookie, what shall become of you now? When, life becomes so dark, and all the love, your already fragile heart held in the ones ,you loved is gone. What choice do you have? To live or to die. Although, I in no way agree with suicide. I know unfortunately, how easily thoughts can turn that dark ,when you can see no light. The only light in the horizon, is the source to which allows her,a do over. So, unless Sookie’s chef is a magical creature who can grant people ,with hearts filled with true kindness, a chance at a do over,and immedately helps her, well. We’re along wayfrom that. I just hope, that her attempt at suicide doesn’t cause some sort of punishment from Felipe.

    1. *I just read your author note Kat. I’m glad you made it through, your hardship and that your here today. Life is in no way easy , sometimes it seems more, than were meant to bare. Sometimes the hardest thing of all is loving yourself enough get through it, and by the grace of God. God bless, always ♡

  10. I feel really bad for Sookie and the situation Niall has put her in. I would be thinking on the same lines as Sookie before letting Felipe drink from her or the thought of having sex with him. by offering her to be with other humans, are they hoping for more telepaths to be born? The thought makes me sick..

    Kat, I’ve had those same feelings when I was younger but now doing fine..

  11. Poor Sookie. I can totally understand her complete devastation and her wish to end it all. (I’m so glad you didn’t) But even though I’m depressed just reading about her numbness and grief, but I know, and can’t wait to find out how, you’ll turn this around.
    I’ve had a few friends who’ve lost members of their families to suicide and the devastation it causes to them all is tragic. I’ve had fleeting thoughts during some difficult times, but having seen what the consequences are to families, would never do it. It’s a terrible thing.
    Really looking forward to finding out how she goes back in time. Maybe she tries to kill herself, sees Claudine again, who gives her a choice? Claudine is supposedly an angel now isn’t she? 😋😀

  12. Other than Niall telling her , do we really know that everyone is dead. She was taken straight from the store and was made to leave her phone, so no contact with anyone. I don’t understand Catalides bland reaction here. Sookies reaction so far is understandable and I really hope the time travel kicks in asap and not years down the line. That would be too horrible to contemplate.

    1. Good point about Sookie not having confirmation, but I can assure you that Niall’s report is true. And–just to assure you more–it will not be years before Sookie’s escape happens. Plus, there’s a good reason why Mr. C SEEMS aloof. The next chapter will make a lot of things clearer on that front.


  13. I wonder if her situation will have any impact on the contract between de Castro and freyda. I hope so, but I’m sure Mr. C would have been aware if that was the case. And hopefully, because he is representing sookie there is a breach. A hairdryer in the bath should do the trick. Problem with that is once de Castro has her blood he’ll be aware of her plans. He may well regret sharing with such a depressed human. And who could blame her? She has no one left to miss her.
    It’s good to hear that others aren’t ashamed to talk about their depression. It is such a common thing these days and the stigma of mental illness is finally losing it’s grip on the masses as education and discussion becomes natural. Kudos to all of us that have fought the battle and came out the other side. Blessings to all of us that are still fighting.

  14. i’m guessing the time travel happens at her suicide attempt in the tub? i’m not surprised at niall, but desmond, yes. he’s supposed to be her sponsor? I guess he has little control but it still urks me!!! i’d love to see eric find out and go beserker.

  15. Sookie is not in a good place, but i understand her thoughts and possible actions. grieving is a tough event if it is only one person but for it to be 6 people would push the strongest into suicide. i believe Niall to be an ass, i also believe him to have his own agenda into giving her to Felipe … but i think Felipe has his own agenda too in accepting her and her troubles since he wanted her for so long and now he has her despite the contract with Eric. hopefully Eric lets us know that some of the better clauses in her contract were due to him. I am sure he wanted more for her if he knew what was going on but i have to keep in mind Freyda will thwart his every desire. As for Mr. C, don’t know what is up there but i am sure we will find out soon enough, i do not think he does not feel for her but right now he is in LAWYER mode. KY

  16. Poor Sookie. I’m trying to prepare for the angst in this story but hopefully that will just make it sweeter in the end. I think this is going to be a great story! Really looking forward to each chapter. Thanks!

  17. That fucking fairy had better not be lying in cahoots with the becaped despot. Sookie hasn’t seen Sam or Jason, and only Niall knew about Hunter and lived. He might like weary because deCastro has trapped him somehow into delivering his granddaughter like a slave in a platter. I never liked Niall much – he was always around when it was convenient for him and only seemed to care truly in the direst of her circumstances. He was always meddling with her love life too….brood made hunting, I guess.
    I hope she kills them all. By accident, by bad/good luck, by whatever means.

    1. And she’s STILL too stupid to question him after everything she was just thinking and all the introspection since losing Eric? I hated her at several points in her whiny self-wallowing, but CH just made her flat-out unlovable by Dead Reckoning. If anyone can redeem her, it’d be you, Kat!

  18. Just read this on Fan Fiction. I don’t why I can’t get updates from your site. Oh, well. I’ll just have to check regularly. This is a very emotional chapter. Sookie is breaking my heart. I’m ready for the next chapter.

  19. A gilded cage, that’s to Sookie’s new life. Family gone, friends gone and Felipe is cashing in on it. I’d kill myself too, Sookie has the right idea:..(

  20. While I do not have fibro I suffered with headache for 30 years and had so many doctors telling me it was all in my head. I know the despair of trying to live with chronic pain. Couple that in with a shitty childhood and really bad things can happen. Lucky for me I survived. I thank god for menopause as now the headache are mostly gone and I do not have to take narcotics any more. I can understand Sookie’s mental status right now. Taking her life seems like the only way out. With time that would pass as we humans change and evolve. Niall is an ass. Hime thinking that DeCastro is a good option is really poor thinking. He has made Sookie a slave. I do not here any where of compensation for services. All the things the King is giving her are not things that Sookie remotely wants. Would Sookie adjust in time? Most likely. But she should not have to. Niall should clean up his fae mess so Sookie does not have to be in a cage. Looking forward to more of this great story.

  21. In Sookie’s shoes I would be contemplating the same thing even though I’ve never advocated suicide except in the case of dying slowly from a painful and incurable disease.

  22. If I went through everything Sookies experienced, especially in a matter of hours, I’d be damn near catatonic also. Her dear granpappy – and the only person she has left – turned into her pimp!

    All the bullshit about Mr. RidiculouslyPowerful Niall, able to pop across realms in second flat yadda yadda, but it seems to me he’s more accurately ‘all hat no cattle’. IF he is as fearless – and fearful – as his reputation implies and is as ‘fond’ of his kin Sookie as he claims (well CH claimed) it looks like he could’ve reached out to Russell – a vamp who showed ‘fondness’ for Sookie and where it’s more likely her body would’ve remained her own. Or Stan. Or even better Mr. Vicious Fairy Prince could simply proof his fairy ass straight to Oklahoma, made a quick little stabby stabby introduction to Freyda, grab the Northman and viola! Sookie has mondo vampire protection from someone she trusts (and loves). Except of course if Naill was as capable as Charlaine first wrote him this story would be much too short!

    So all this has me curious as to what Naill is getting out of that contract because there is no waaaay a nauseating deal to pimp out a spark carrying kin Niall has ‘affection’ for…to a vampire😳… is only for Sookies ‘safety and benefit’ 🙄
    And where the hell is Naills offer to ‘kill Felipe to break any bond’ after the enemy has been dispatched like he offered to dust Eric if Sookie didn’t want the bond, hmmmm? 🤔

    Sookies much to grief stricken and numb to wonder about that but I hope when her clock gets rewound she questions it. Of course I could be reading more into Naills ‘help’ because I too thought something was fishy about his book character and lack of action/help when Sookie most needed it.
    Thx, I’m so excited for more.

  23. Kat,

    After reading your author’s note on your experience with suicide, it took be back to a very rough patch in my own life where I contemplated driving my car off a cliff into the ocean. I fantasized about how peaceful it would be to be submerged under water after the impact – how quiet it would be. Thankfully like you, I didn’t do anything for myself. I think, like you as we keep plodding along, life does get better and we become more empowered by the choice to live and we see the strength in ourselves others see.

    You are an exceptional person Kat. Your stories – both personal and fiction are meaningful and valuable to many others and me. Your sensitivity and consideration shines in each of your stories and I have watched you develop confidence in yourself as an SMV/True Blood writer and with the sureness in yourself – you pay it forward by encouraging and supporting others.

    I hope that your real life is treating you well – when you wrote that sometimes working on current WIP doesn’t fit your mood and it is easier to begin a new story, I was worried for you. Thank you for continuing to write. Take care, P

    1. Thanks for your kind words, and you are sweet to worry. I’m okay. Living with chronic headaches is difficult, but I’m determined to keep stomping one foot in front of the other. As for changing gears at times? Well–a lot of that has to do with what I’m “into” at any given time. When a story flows from me, I just go with it. 🙂

      1. Headaches along with nausea and vomiting are the worst. I’m sorry you suffer from them. Glad to hear your okay.

  24. Okay. First the story. Sookie. My heart is breaking. I feel for her, she really feels like there is nothing. The hard part is that everyone she is closest is gone. Niall should be somebody that she could turn to, he should be somebody that is a calm amongst the storm, a safe haven. He is her only family left, and he is selling her out. What else is she meant to think. What else she is she meant to feel. I know you’ll turn this around for our girl. I’m just going to have to be patient……… Are we there yet? 😉

    Now your authors note. Oh my dear, big hugs. So glad that you’re able to see you away out of that that place. The world would be a much poorer place without you in it. Your writing is amazing, an absolute priceless gift. You share so much of yourself in your stories and in your infinite’s, and I for one, feel entirely privileged and honoured and humbled a lot of the time. You’re a beautiful person and I thank you for everything that you’ve given me as a reader and the world as a whole.

    I have bipolar two. I don’t have the huge manic highs that some people with bipolar has, instead I live in a perpetual state of depression. Nothing extreme, but when doctors and such ask me what my mood is out of 10, and my answer is that my normal state of being is a three. I’m used to that. Hopefully one day I’ll find something that will lift my status quo to a 5. But what I’m saying is that although I cantunderstand living with constant pain, I can understand living with a daily struggle to just BE, and DO, and actually Live life, and not just exist. Considering I’ve failed my studies because I couldn’t complete them in time, not sure I’m currently winning that last battle…. Anyways.

    As always, a beautifully done chapter. Moving and thought evoking 🙂

    Now to the next…. Are we there yet?

  25. It’s heartbreaking to read about Sookie’s thoughts. I have to move to the next chapter.
    Re: author note
    Kat, I’m really happy for you, that you were able to let the bad times behind you.
    Many hugs 🙂

  26. And here i had thought i had read every story you’ve written…nope missed one lol. So, she is going to sign a contract with Felipe then kill herself? If you’re really planning on suicide why not just say no to thr contract and let your enemies kill u instead? I mean if u truly want to die Im sure her enemies can make that happen for her. Miss do everything on her own terms…never wanting to be anybodys or let any one else namely Eric do what it took to protect her is really going to sign a contract to let de Castro protect her? Oh but only until she can kill herself…too funny. This is going to be a great story. Cant wait to see how this works out 😉

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