Our shellfish desires, p.23
Our Shellfish Desires, page 23
“What’s on your shirt?” Sloane tilted his head. “Well, what’s on Toby’s shirt?”
“Do you like it?” Galgareth laughed. “Another birthday present from some boutique clothing store in downtown Archersville.”
“The words. Is that… Godstongue?”
“Yes! I haven’t had a chance to read it all yet, but I believe it’s a blessing for Salgumel.”
“And they just slapped it on a shirt?” Sloane shook his head. “That’s horrible.”
“Trust me.” Galgareth smiled sadly. “Seeing a sacred prayer to my father plastered all over uppity mortal merchandise isn’t exactly my idea of reverent either, but maybe it’s a good thing.”
“How?” Loch wrinkled his nose. “Are we getting a cut of the profits?”
“Well, no, but if people want to know what their shirt says, they might start learning about the old ways to find out.” Galgareth’s smile brightened. “It might be enough to spark someone’s interest and lead them to the gods.”
“Conversion through fashion, huh?” Sloane grinned.
“You never know.” Galgareth joined Sloane and Loch by the bassinet, and she leaned down to nuzzle Pandora. “Maybe this little one will even have her own worshippers one day, huh?”
“Mmm, yeah.” Sloane chuckled to himself. “Anyone looking for help to start a large fire can call on Pandora, goddess of spontaneous combustion.”
“That is not her official title,” Loch scolded. “We haven’t had her naming ceremony yet.”
“It was a joke.”
“Don’t you two have a crime scene or something to go to?” Galgareth politely reminded them.
“Right.” Sloane fiddled with Pandora’s blankets again, watching her chew away on the amber bracelet. “Okay, she still has that bottle over there on the counter, and the formula Urilith made is in the cabinet by the fridge, and—”
“Sloane,” Galgareth cut in. “I’ve got her, okay?” She smiled warmly. “Goddess, remember?”
“Yes. Sorry.” Sloane bowed his head to kiss Pandora’s forehead. “Be good for your Auntie Gal, okay?”
“Maff panic,” Pandora whispered through a mouthful of bracelet.
“No mass panic. No.”
“Maff?”
“No.”
When Pandora pouted, she looked just like Loch.
“We’ll be back soon, I promise.” Sloane kissed her a few more times before finally pulling away. “Okay. I’m good, we’re going. Lemme just grab my coat.”
Loch cuddled Pandora with his tentacles and gave her a kiss. “Don’t fret, my little one. Daddy and Dad will be back in no time to cuddle you, love all over you, teach you how to flambé—”
“No flambéing!” Sloane rolled his eyes as he put on his coat.
“Go on! Both of you!” Galgareth shooed Sloane and Loch toward the door. “Have fun at the crime scene!”
“Oh yeah,” Sloane grumbled. “It’s gonna be a real hoot.”
The address Milo had texted was for a hotel near the university, and Sloane drove there with his stomach churning. Loch had taken Sloane’s phone, claiming he wanted to play a game, but he was instead scrolling through Sloane’s text messages.
“Lochlain has invited us over to feast with him and Robert for Dhankes,” Loch was saying. “You have not answered him.”
Lochlain Fields was Lynnette’s brother, and it was his murder that first summoned Loch down to Aeon to seek justice. After his resurrection courtesy of Great Azaethoth, Lynnette made a ghoul copy of Lochlain’s body for Loch to use. Lochlain was a talented thief and his husband, Robert, was a fence and broker for illegal magical items.
“I did so,” Sloane protested. “I told him I’d get back to him.”
“Which is not an answer.”
“It’s literally the first of October. We have all month to figure it out.” Sloane glanced at Loch, and he frowned when he saw Loch swiping around more. “Now what are you doing?”
“You haven’t spoken to Fred in almost two weeks. We should send him a message and check on his penis.”
“We should not do that,” Sloane replied firmly. “I’m sure him and Ell are doing just fine.”
Best friend and fellow thief to Lochlain, Fred was a ghoul. While the secrets of true necromancy had been lost to the world—the miracle of Lochlain’s resurrection aside—it was possible to bind someone’s soul to a copy of their body before they died. The practice was rare, highly illegal, and ghouls had the unfortunate tendency to rot.
This created the need for ghoul doctors like Fred’s boyfriend, Ell, who specialized in powerful magic designed to preserve and increase a ghoul body’s longevity. It wasn’t clear how exactly a ghoul could be intimate with another person, but Sloane had long decided that it was none of his business.
Loch, however, disagreed.
“But he’s a ghoul. Things… fall off.”
“I’m aware.”
“But how do they mate? How?”
“However they want. Stop being weird.”
“Hmmph.” Loch typed something.
“You better not be texting him about his penis.”
“I am… texting him about something else.” Loch poked at the screen.
Sloane stopped at a red light and put the car in park. He then reached over to grab his phone. “Stop! Right now!”
Loch twisted away, using his tentacles to push Sloane back as he typed faster. “I’m almost done!”
“Oh, I swear by all the gods I’m going to kick your ass if you send him something about his dick—”
Loch cackled, and he easily kept Sloane’s swinging arms at bay with his many tentacles. “Just a few more words… hmmm, how do you spell ‘engorged’? The automatic correction is failing me.”
“Dead!” Sloane laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of fighting a god over what was certainly a very lewd text message. “You’re so dead!”
“It keeps trying to spell ‘enforced’. Hmm. Oh, I know—”
“Loch, quit! Right now—” Sloane gasped as the car lurched forward.
“Hey!” Loch braced himself against the dash.
The car was still moving—no, it was being lifted—until the front grill was parallel to the street and hovering several yards up in the air. The only things keeping Sloane from falling into the windshield were his seat belt and a bundle of Loch’s tentacles.
“Loch!” Sloane exclaimed. “What the—”
“This is very rude!” Loch griped.
Sloane watched in horror as something stepped into view in front of the windshield. It was massive, horrible, too many eyes and way too many legs, but wait….
No.
Too many tentacles.
It was a god.
K.L. “KAT” HIERS is an embalmer, restorative artist, and queer writer. Licensed in both funeral directing and funeral service, she worked in the death industry for nearly a decade. Her first love was always telling stories, and she has been writing for over twenty years, penning her very first book at just eight years old. Publishers generally do not accept manuscripts in Hello Kitty notebooks, however, but she never gave up.
Following the success of her first novel, Cold Hard Cash, she now enjoys writing professionally, focusing on spinning tales of sultry passion, exotic worlds, and emotional journeys. She loves attending horror movie conventions and indulging in cosplay of her favorite characters. She lives in Zebulon, NC, with her husband and their children, some of whom have paws and a few who only pretend to because they think it’s cute.
Website: http://www.klhiers.com
By K.L. Hiers
SUCKER FOR LOVE MYSTERIES
Acsquidentally In Love
Kraken My Heart
Head Over Tentacles
Nautilus Than Perfect
Just Calamarried
Our Shellfish Desires
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
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Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Our Shellfish Desires
© 2022 K.L. Hiers
Cover Art
© 2022 Tiferet Design
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Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64108-405-5
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64108-404-8
Digital eBook published July 2022
v. 1.0
Published in the United States of America
K.L. Hiers, Our Shellfish Desires
