I got a phone call the next night at Merlotte’s.
It’s Pam. PAAAAMMMM!
Eric has sent an order for Sookie to see him on Froday night at eight. The exact time of Sookie’s date with Quinn. Oh, dear, shenanigans abound! Pam finds all this wonderful as it gives her a chance to wind up Eric. Have I mentioned lately how much I love Pam?
The narrative then promptly switches to a very long and loving description of Eric’s nude photo, which I will quote here:
Eric himself was Mr. January. He’d posed with a bed and a long white fur robe. Eric and the bed were set against a pale gray background hung with giant glittering snowflakes. He wasn’t wearing the robe: oh, no. He wasn’t wearing anything. He had one bent knee on the rumpled bed, and the other foot was on the floor, and he was looking directly at the camera, smouldering. Eric’s blond hair fell in a tousled mane around his shoulders, and his right hand gripped the robe tossed on the bed, so the white fur rose just high enough to cover his kit ‘n’ kaboodle. His body was turned just slightly to flaunt the curve of his world-class butt. A light trail of dark blond hair pointed south of his navel. It practically screamed, “Carrying concealed!”
I happened to know that Eric’s pistol was more of a Magnum than a snub-nose.
My mixed reactions to this very long description
- Please stop using the phrase ‘kit ‘n’ kaboodle’.
- Please, please stop using weird metaphors for penises.
Then there’s some fun with Andy Bellefleur proposing to Halleigh (the woman he’s been dating for about four months who has magically gained two years onto her age in that time) by putting the ring box in her fries. I like that. I like Andy, even if Sookie doesn’t. She’s unnecessarily harsh on Andy and Portia and I can never understand why.
Sookie goes home from all this excitement and living on her own in the middle of the woods is suddenly very scary.
Suddenly, the noises that had made the night seem as friendly and as busy as the day had come to a stop, cut off in midcry.
Something was out there.
She contemplates getting help from Bill, but decides the best course of action is to lock the door. Which is always the first thing I do when I get into my house. And most other people do that too. Why doesn’t Sookie do that automatically?
The woods were still silent. No matter how I listened with every sense at my disposal, that faint signal did not impinge on my brain again. It was gone.
I knew some creature had been out in my woods; and that creature had been something bigger and scarier than a racoon.