The story thus far …
The life of a telepath is no leisurely coast up the bayou. As a matter of fact, it’s more like falling overboard and wrestling with the alligators. 24/7, my mind was the involuntary recipient of the thoughts of most humans within close proximity. Yep! That's right, I'm a telepath. Fighting off the unwelcome innermost feelings of others, my whole life, proved to be so challenging that most of the locals labeled me as crazy. Then my eyes were opened to the mysterious world of the supernatural also known as the Supes. Realizing that you are on the bottom of the Supe food chain, as well, is bound to put a negative spin on a gal’s Joie de Vivre.
Bon Temps is a small, rural community on the northern tip of Louisiana, which is fast becoming a summit of Supernatural activity. I live on several acres of wooded land that has belonged to the Stackhouses for over a hundred years and was left to me when my grandmother died. My home is just as old and has been added on and improved over the years but in the end, still looks like what it is, a farmhouse and I love it. My property has proven to be the nucleus of the Supe community and has drawn creatures of every walk of life to my front stoop. Well, sort of.
My journey began when vampires decided to “Come out of the Coffin” as they put it, and show the world that they truly exist. This exposition was made on the heels of the mass production of a synthetic blood created by the Japanese. The world is now convinced that vampirism is a virus. The symptoms of the virus are sensitivity to sunlight, which leads to complete incapacitation until sundown and severe anemia. The end result: vampires organized themselves and flooded mainstream society touting that humans are not in danger of vampires because they could now survive on synthetic blood.
Most recently, another group of Supes followed suit. The great Were Revelation confirmed to the human world that the tales of werewolves and shape shifters are more than just folklore. The most difficult part to accept was that these two-natured beings, which are naturally faster and stronger than humans (and grew a tail during the full moon) don’t live in crypts across the sea or across town; they are our neighbors, co-workers, friends, siblings, parents and spouses. Other than a few shootings, crucifixions, beheadings and body burnings, the two groups were pretty well accepted by the world at large.
My life as a barmaid in a small town was fairly simple and uneventful. Shortly after the undead exposed themselves, Bill Compton, who was a native of Bon Temps (over a century ago) returned home and walked in the bar as our first vampire patron and catapulted me into the Supernatural world. The pinnacle is that my telepathy, of which I viewed as a curse all my life, is treasured by the Supernatural community. That's most likely because I can't read vampire minds and the snarling shifter mind is difficult to read. My lonely existence blossomed into one full of love and admiration from my many Supernatural friends and suitors. The pit is that my puny human casing lacks the armor needed to protect me from being brutally beaten, kidnapped, beaten, assaulted, poisoned, beaten, staked, raped, molested, drained, beaten, bombed, shot and, oh yeah, BEATEN! It's tantamount to “going bear hunting with a switch,” as my grandmother used to say. Saddest of all is that most of the abuse came from my fellow humans.
All the horrific attempts on my life pale in comparison to what the Fae had in store for Sookie Stackhouse. I had learned, quite recently, that my ancestry includes a fairy bloodline instead of Stackhouse. To vampires, it means that I will be more alluring than the average human and my blood tastes better. Some of the Fae believe that reproducing or consorting with humans robs them of their magic. Therefore, all mixed breeds, especially me, should be extinguished. The Fae are physically the most beautiful creatures to ever walk the earth. I learned the hard way that they are also the most deadly…
The life of a telepath is no leisurely coast up the bayou. As a matter of fact, it’s more like falling overboard and wrestling with the alligators. 24/7, my mind was the involuntary recipient of the thoughts of most humans within close proximity. Yep! That's right, I'm a telepath. Fighting off the unwelcome innermost feelings of others, my whole life, proved to be so challenging that most of the locals labeled me as crazy. Then my eyes were opened to the mysterious world of the supernatural also known as the Supes. Realizing that you are on the bottom of the Supe food chain, as well, is bound to put a negative spin on a gal’s Joie de Vivre.
Bon Temps is a small, rural community on the northern tip of Louisiana, which is fast becoming a summit of Supernatural activity. I live on several acres of wooded land that has belonged to the Stackhouses for over a hundred years and was left to me when my grandmother died. My home is just as old and has been added on and improved over the years but in the end, still looks like what it is, a farmhouse and I love it. My property has proven to be the nucleus of the Supe community and has drawn creatures of every walk of life to my front stoop. Well, sort of.
My journey began when vampires decided to “Come out of the Coffin” as they put it, and show the world that they truly exist. This exposition was made on the heels of the mass production of a synthetic blood created by the Japanese. The world is now convinced that vampirism is a virus. The symptoms of the virus are sensitivity to sunlight, which leads to complete incapacitation until sundown and severe anemia. The end result: vampires organized themselves and flooded mainstream society touting that humans are not in danger of vampires because they could now survive on synthetic blood.
Most recently, another group of Supes followed suit. The great Were Revelation confirmed to the human world that the tales of werewolves and shape shifters are more than just folklore. The most difficult part to accept was that these two-natured beings, which are naturally faster and stronger than humans (and grew a tail during the full moon) don’t live in crypts across the sea or across town; they are our neighbors, co-workers, friends, siblings, parents and spouses. Other than a few shootings, crucifixions, beheadings and body burnings, the two groups were pretty well accepted by the world at large.
My life as a barmaid in a small town was fairly simple and uneventful. Shortly after the undead exposed themselves, Bill Compton, who was a native of Bon Temps (over a century ago) returned home and walked in the bar as our first vampire patron and catapulted me into the Supernatural world. The pinnacle is that my telepathy, of which I viewed as a curse all my life, is treasured by the Supernatural community. That's most likely because I can't read vampire minds and the snarling shifter mind is difficult to read. My lonely existence blossomed into one full of love and admiration from my many Supernatural friends and suitors. The pit is that my puny human casing lacks the armor needed to protect me from being brutally beaten, kidnapped, beaten, assaulted, poisoned, beaten, staked, raped, molested, drained, beaten, bombed, shot and, oh yeah, BEATEN! It's tantamount to “going bear hunting with a switch,” as my grandmother used to say. Saddest of all is that most of the abuse came from my fellow humans.
All the horrific attempts on my life pale in comparison to what the Fae had in store for Sookie Stackhouse. I had learned, quite recently, that my ancestry includes a fairy bloodline instead of Stackhouse. To vampires, it means that I will be more alluring than the average human and my blood tastes better. Some of the Fae believe that reproducing or consorting with humans robs them of their magic. Therefore, all mixed breeds, especially me, should be extinguished. The Fae are physically the most beautiful creatures to ever walk the earth. I learned the hard way that they are also the most deadly…
