NIBBLES ‘N’ BITS An Ellora’s Cave Publication, October 2004 Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc. 1337 Commerce Drive, #13 Stow, OH 44224 ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-4199-0011-0 Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML REDNECKS ‘N’ ROSES © 2004 JUDY MAYS FANGS ‘N’ FOXES © 2004 MARDI BALLOU FRANNIE ‘N’ THE PRIVATE DICK © 2004 DELILAH DEVLIN ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously. Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky, Heather Osborn and Briana St. James. Cover art by Christine Clavel. Warning: The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. Nibbles ‘n’ Bits has been rated E–rotic by a minimum of three independent reviewers. Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme). S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination. E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. In addition, some E-rated titles might contain fantasy material that some readers find objectionable, such as bondage, submission, same sex encounters, forced seductions, and so forth. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry; it is common, for instance, for an author to use words such as “fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such within their work of literature. X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Unlike E-rated titles, stories designated with the letter X tend to contain controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart. NIBBLES ‘N’ BITS Rednecks ‘n’ Roses by Judy Mays Fangs ‘n’ Foxes by Mardi Ballou Frannie ‘n’ the Private Dick by Delilah Devlin REDNECKS ‘N’ ROSES Judy Mays Dedication For my friend Amber, whose real life adventures gave me the idea for this story. No, she’s not a vampire—but, yes, she has a cross-eyed black cat named Midnight. Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Chevrolet (Chevy) Blazer: General Motors Corporation Lysol: Linden Corporation Chapter One “You got fucked.” Amber blinked, burped, then reached for her glass. “No I didn’t. I got a house and over a hundred acres of land.” Tequila, lime juice and ice sloshed as Mandi mixed another pitcher of margaritas. “In fricking Juniata County. Do you realize how far away from civilization that is? It’s the middle of nowhere.” Amber shook her head. “It’s only an hour away from Harrisburg.” The room started to spin and she closed her eyes. An ice cube bounced off the table and skidded across the kitchen floor. “Harrisburg! What the hell is there to do in Harrisburg when all your friends are in Philadelphia? How can you be so…so easygoing? You should be pissed as hell that Frank got all that money. Shit, he’s a fricking engineer. I’ll say it again. You got fucked.” Amber gulped down the last swallow in her glass. Warmth rolled through her veins. She felt so good! Why did Mandi keep harping on and on about Aunt Ernestine? Could she be right? Amber held out her glass. “You really think so?” Nodding, Mandi poured both of them another drink. “Shit yeah. Your Aunt Ernestine was a real bitch not to leave you any money.” At first Amber watched Mandi’s head go up and down but it made her dizzy so she stared at the drink Mandi had poured instead. It sure was a pretty yellow color—all soft and pale like a gentle spring sun. Then she frowned. Aunt Ernestine had hated any color except gray, brown, white or black. How could normal people hate pretty colors? Maybe Mandi was right. “She was a bitch, wasn’t she? But Mandi, I didn’t expect her to leave me anything in her will, so how can I be disappointed?” “Christ, Amber. Would you stop being so nice!” Mandi picked a particularly bright fuchsia pillow up off the floor and threw it at an equally colorful purple sofa. “You got fucked—royally. You went to that bitch’s house three or four times a week to run her errands, drag her wherever she wanted to go or see if she needed anything. And how does she thank you? By leaving all her money to your asshole cousin.” Amber swallowed more of her drink. Hmmm, but it tasted good. “Asshole cousin Frank,” she agreed. Frank was an asshole. And his wife was a stuck-up snob. “He’s getting money that belongs to you.” Amber stared at the tiny, white salt crystals hugging the rim of her glass. One of those itty-bitty umbrellas, a bright orange or green one, would really look nice in it. “Are you listening to me, Amber. Frank got your money.” Still smiling at her glass, Amber shook her head and repeated, “Nope. Not my money. I knew Aunt Ernestine wouldn’t leave me any so why should I be disappointed?” Mandi gaped. “Why? Because you’re the one who took care of the old tightwad for the last three years. Because you’re almost broke. You got downsized out of your job two months ago, remember?” That reminder momentarily cleared Amber’s mind. “How could I forget?” She gulped the rest of her drink and held out her glass. “More.” Mandi poured. “Your aunt knew that. Did she ever offer to help you? To even pay for gas when you ran her errands?” Squinting as she swayed in her chair, Amber stared at the blur that was her friend. Mandi was making more and more sense. Aunt Ernestine never did offer to help her. Hell, she rarely ever said "thank you." “You’re right. She was a bitch, a stingy, penny-pinching, sour-faced bitch.” Mandi grinned. “Now you’re talking.” Another swallow. Amber hiccuped. “Tight-fisted, dried-up old biddy.” Mandi nodded. “She treated you like dirt.” Blinking, Amber concentrated harder on her friend’s face—both of them. “Did I ever tell you what she thought of my stories?” Mandi tossed back a shot of tequila and almost fell out of her chair. She grabbed the table and steadied herself. “No, you never did.” Leaning forward, Amber leaned her elbows on the table. They slipped off; she caught herself and planted them more firmly. In a low voice she said, “She called them ‘dirty’ books. She said I was ‘lacking morals’ and that decent people would be offended by what I was writing.” She frowned. “Are you offended by what I write, Mandi?” She belched a deep belch. After answering Amber’s belch with one of her own, Mandi gulped another shot. “Your aunt was a narrow-minded prude and a sanctimonious bitch. Hard to believe she was ever married. Bet she did it with the lights out, wearing a high- necked, long-sleeved nightgown, missionary position with her eyes screwed shut, stiff as a board until your uncle was finished. She wouldn’t know good sex if it bit her in the ass. So what if your stories have a little sex in them. Sex sells.” Amber giggled. “Maybe Uncle Henry should have bitten her in the ass.” Pale yellow liquid squirted across the table as Mandi tried to swallow and laugh at the same time. Nodding, Amber grabbed the bottle and poured a shot of tequila—and got most of it in the glass. “Yep, he should have bitten her in the ass. She called me a ‘loose woman’, you know.” Amber lifted the shot glass and tossed its contents into her mouth. After an involuntary shake, she continued. “Me! A loose woman. Ha! I haven’t had a date in six months, let alone sex. The last time I had sex was with that investment banker I was dating last year.” Wiping away the liquid she’d snorted out of her nose, Mandi grabbed the bottle from Amber and poured herself another shot. “Oh yeah, Mini-dick, right?” Amber nodded. “Yep, good, old Mini-dick. Mini-est dick in the East. His dick would slip out every time he’d really start pumping. Most unsatisfying sex I ever had.” She sighed. “The last sex I ever had.” Giggling, Mandi poured, missed her glass, and tequila rolled across the table. “You sure do attract the losers. Remember Buggy Cal?” Amber watched the stream of tequila cascade down over the side of the table and splash onto the floor. Did it always splash straight back up again? She swayed to the left then caught herself and focused on Mandi. “Well shit, I didn’t know he collected bugs until after we’d been dating for a couple of months.” Finally managing to fill her shot glass, Mandi shook her head—and swayed from one side of her chair to the other. “Amber, Amber, Amber. You should have known when he wouldn’t kill that spider for you.” “Spiders! Yuk.” Shuddering, Amber leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Did I ever tell you he had this huge spider he kept as a pet? He wanted me to hold it! Can you believe it? Me? Hold a spider? Ha! That's the last time he saw me. I was out that door so fast he didn't know what happened." Guffawing, Mandi finger-combed her hair back from her face then lifted the pitcher and poured another margarita into Amber’s glass. “Here, have another drink.” Amber picked up her glass, sipped, and swirled the delicious liquid around her mouth. Mmmmmmmmm. Mandi definitely knew how to make good