Petunia's Pandemonium
Page 14
"But I looooooovvve you," he said quietly. His little one-eared head drooped and he began to sniffle pathetically.
"You shouldn't love me," I reasoned. "I'm selfish and I killed you—albeit accidentally—and I'm wearing orange."
"I can fix that," he offered meekly. "Would that make you loooooooove meeeee?"
I felt nauseous and it wasn't from all the crap I'd shoved in my mouth while driving to meet my destiny. The little disgusting piece of fur had feelings for me. Feelings I didn't even come close to deserving or returning. And now to make matters worse, he was offering to magic me some clothes. If I said yes, it was a win-win. I'd get new clothes and he'd think I loved him. Asshats on fire, what in the hell was love anyway?
"Um...I would seem kind of shallow if I traded my love for clothes," I mumbled as I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from declaring my worthless love in exchange for non-orange attire.
"Well, youuuuuu are somewhat superficial, but that's not alllllllll your fault," Fabio said as he squished a little closer and placed the furry side of his head in my lap.
"Thank you, I think."
A compliment was a compliment, no matter how insulting.
"You're most welcome," he purred. "How would you know what loooooove is? Your mother was a hooooooker and your poor father was in the darrrrrk about your existence most of your liiiiiiiife."
"My mother was loose," I admitted, "but she did the best she could. However, my father, whoever the motherfuck he is, just took off after he knocked up my mom. And P.S.—I'm the only one allowed to call my mom a hooker. As nice as the fable was you told me about my dad… it's bullshit."
"Noooooooo, actually it's not," Fabio said as he lifted his piercing green eyes to mine.
"Do you know the bastard?" I demanded, noticing for the first time how our eyes matched. That wasn't uncommon. Most familiars took on the traits of their witches, but I wished he hadn't taken on mine. It would make it much harder to pawn the thing off on someone else if he looked too much like me.
"I knoooooow of him."
"So where the hell is he if he knows about me now?" My eyes narrowed dangerously and blue sparks began to cover my arms.
Fabio quickly backed away in fear of getting crispy. "Asssssssssss the story goes, a spell was cast on him by your moooooother when he learned of your existence. From what I've heard he's been trying to break the spellllllllll by doing penance."
I rolled my eyes and laughed. "How's that working out for the assmonkey?"
"Apparently not veeeeeeery well if he hasn't shown himself yet."
I considered Fabio's fairytale and wished for a brief moment it was true.
Maybe my father didn't know about me. I always thought he didn't want me. That's what my mom had said.
Of course, she was certifiable and I'd left her house the moment I'd turned eighteen. I did love her but only in the same way a dog still loves the owner who kicks it.
Fabio's story was utter crap, but it was sweet that he cared. Other than Baba Yopaininmyass, not many did.
"Where did you learn all that fiction?" I asked as I eased the lime green piece of dog poo back onto the road before the police showed up and mistook me for an escaped convict.
"Yourrrrrrrr file," he answered as he dug his claws into the strap of the seat belt and pulled it across his mangled body. "Evvvvvvery familiar gets a file on their witch."
"Here, let me," I said as I pulled the strap and clicked it into the lock. "Was there anything else interesting in my file?"
The damn cat knew more about me than I did.
"Nothing I caaaaaan share."
I pursed my lips so I wouldn't swear at him—hard but doable. I wanted info and I knew how to get it.
"What if I reattached your ear? Would you tell me one thing you're not supposed to?" I bargained.
"I'mmmmm missssssssing an ear?" he shrieked, aghast.
"Yep, I flicked it under the seat so you wouldn't flip out."
His breathing became erratic. I worried he would heave a hairball or something worse. "Yesssssss, reattach it, please."
I opened my senses and let whatever magic Baba Yasshole had let me keep flow through me. Light purple healing flames covered my arms, neck and face.
Fabio's ear floated up from under the passenger seat and drifted to his head. As it connected back, I had a thought. It was selfish… and not.
"Hey Fab, do you mind if I fill in the fur on your face?" It would be so much easier to look at the little bastard if I didn't see raw cat skin.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh my, I'm missing fur?" He was positively despondent. Clearly he hadn't looked in a mirror since his resurrection.
"Um, it's just a little," I lied. "I can fix it up in a jiff."
"Thhhhhhank you, that would be loooovely."
The magic swirled through me. It felt so good. The pokey had blocked me from using magic and I'd missed it terribly.
The silky warm purple mist skimmed over Fabio's body and the hair reappeared. Without his permission I unflattened his midsection, reshaped his head and uncranked his tail. It was the least I could do since I'd caused it in the first place.
"There. All better," I told him and glanced over to admire my handiwork. He looked a lot less mangled. He was still a bit mangy, but that was how he'd always been. At least he no longer looked like living road kill. "Your turn."
"Your Aunt Hildy was your father's sissssssster and she wasssss freakin' crazy," he hissed with disgust.
"You knew her?"
"Ahh no, but sheeeeeee was legendary," he explained.
"Why the hell did she leave me her house?" I asked, hoping for some more info. I'd already assumed she was my deadbeat dad's sister. I wanted something new.
"I suppose you will take ooooover for her," Fabio informed me as he lifted and extended his leg so he could lick his balls.
"Get your mouth off your crotch while we're having a conversation," I snapped.
"Youuuuu would do it if youuuuuu could," he said.
"Probably," I muttered as I zoomed past six cars driving too slow for my mood. "But since I can't, you're not allowed to either."
"Can I dooooooo it in private?" he asked.
"Um, sure. Now tell me what crazy old Aunt Hildy did for a living so I know what I'm getting into here."
"No clue," Fabio said far too quickly.
"You know, I could run your feline ass over again," I threatened.
"Yeeeeeep, but I have six lives left."
I put my attention back on the road. "Great. That's just great."
GET YOUR COPY HERE!
http://www.robynpeterman.com/switching-hour
Robyn’s Book List
(in correct reading order)
HOT DAMNED SERIES
Fashionably Dead
Fashionably Dead Down Under
Hell on Heels
Fashionably Dead in Diapers
A Fashionably Dead Christmas
Fashionably Hotter Than Hell
Fashionably Dead and Wed
Fashionably Fanged
Fashionably Flawed
A Fashionably Dead Diary
Fashionably Forever After
Fashionably Fabulous
A Fashionable Fiasco
Fashionably Fooled
More coming soon…
* * *
SEA SHENANIGANS SERIES
Tallulah’s Temptation
Ariel’s Antics
Misty’s Mayhem
Madison’s Mess
Petunia’s Pandemonium
* * *
SHIFT HAPPENS SERIES
Ready to Were
Some Were in Time
No Were To Run
Were Me Out
Where We Belong
* * *
MAGIC AND MAYHEM SERIES
Switching Hour
Witch Glitch
A Witch in Time
Magically Delicious
A Tale of Two Witches
Three’s A Charm
Switching Witches
* * *
HANDCUFFS AND HAPPILY EVER AFTERS SERIES
How Hard Can it Be?
Size Matters
Cop a Feel
* * *
If after reading all the above you are still wanting more adventure and zany fun, read Pirate Dave and His Randy Adventures, the romance novel budding novelist Rena was helping wicked Evangeline write in How Hard Can It Be?
* * *
Warning: Pirate Dave Contains Romance Satire, Spoofing, and Pirates with Two Pork Swords.
About Robyn Peterman
Robyn Peterman writes because the people inside her head won’t leave her alone until she gives them life on paper. Her addictions include laughing really hard with friends, shoes (the expensive kind), Target, Coke Zero Cherry with extra ice in a Styrofoam cup, bejeweled reading glasses, her kids, her super-hot hubby and collecting stray animals.
* * *
A former professional actress with Broadway, film and T.V. credits, she now lives in the South with her family and too many animals to count.
* * *
Writing gives her peace and makes her whole, plus having a job where you can work in your underpants works really well for her. You can leave Robyn a message via the Contact Page and she’ll get back to you as soon as her bizarre life permits! She loves to hear from her fans!