Hello lovely readers!
So here’s our new baby, Stolen. Scribe loves to write her nerdy guys and while I don’t love musicals as much as she does, we both love the movie Grease and that’s what inspired this idea. I thought it would be fun to sort of flip it around and make Sookie the Danny Zuko of the summer lovebirds and let Eric be the Sandy. It doesn’t completely go along those lines and there were some big surprises in regards to Sookie’s past that surfaced without warning while we were writing, but that’s part of the fun for us authors. Our characters surprise us and somehow, the story she told me, worked out very well and really made everything come together. It sounds crazy and if you’re not a writer you might on grasp it, but the characters take on a life of their own. When it’s right, they do all the work for us. All we have to do is type.
Anyway… we hope you enjoy this story. It’s 21 chapters and we’ll be updating daily just like with Over You. Also, just to play pimp for a minute, wifey wrote me a birthday one shot that she posted last night so if you haven’t already read Pussy Wars, you should go do it because it’s amazeballs smothered in awesomesauce on a bed of winwaffles.
Meg & Scribe
♥ ♥ ♥
It’s been a while since the last time I came up here to Gran’s resort. Usually she comes down to visit us in the fall once things settle down for her. Her pearly white Buick comes to a stop outside of the big main house–the lodge, as she calls it.
“It looks smaller than I remember,” I say to her as she cuts the engine.
“We’ll see if you still feel that way when you’re cleaning it,” Gran says with a smile.
I bite my tongue to keep from saying something I shouldn’t and instead get out of the car to get my bags from the trunk. A middle-aged colored man comes out of the house and down the stairs to help me with my bags.
“Sookie, this is Gervaise,” Gran says. “Gervaise, this is my granddaughter, Sookie. She’ll be helping Octavia with the housekeeping this summer.”
“Yes’m,” Gervaise nods respectfully before turning to smile at me. His teeth are a bit yellow and his eyes are a murky shade of brown. “Miss Sookie, sure is nice to meet you.”
“You too, sir,” I say and he looks surprised before laughing.
Did I say something wrong?
“I sure ain’t never been called sir before by my employer’s granddaughter is all,” Gervaise explains.
“Oh,” I smile and blush a bit.
“You can call me Gervaise, Miss Sookie.”
“You can call me Sookie,” I tell him.