Ariel's Antics (Sea Shenanigans #2)
Date: 2018-07-10 00:00:00+00:00
Description: What in the clam shell does a Mermaid have to do to find true love? I'm bored. And if I'm being honest, I'm jealous. I want my sister to have her happily ever after. I do. But I want my own adventures and my own true love. For two hundred years I've suffered through one immortal asshat after another while stuck on Mystical Isle. And while running a tourist trap for humans might be entertaining, I'm never going to find my true love in this sea of monotony. Of course, there is a Selkie... the sexiest most idiotic man-seal I've ever had the misfortune of swimming across-definitely an asshat. Unfo
Publisher: CreateSpace Publishing
Rights: Copyright 2018 Robyn Peterman. All rights reserved.

Ariel’s Antics

Sea Shenanigans, Book 2

Robyn Peterman

www.robynpeterman.com

Copyright © 2018 by Robyn Peterman

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

Cover by Rebecca Poole of dreams2media

Edited by Meg Weglarz

Created with Vellum

Contents

Acknowledgments

Book Description

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Note From The Author

Excerpt: Fashionably Dead

Robyn’s Book List

About Robyn Peterman

Acknowledgments

Starting a new series is delightfully frightening. I love everything about it! LOL And I can’t wait for you guys to read this book. I laughed so hard while writing it it’s embarrassing.

Ariel, Keith and the gang are now some of my favorite people.

Anyhoo, as always, I write the book, but it takes a whole lot of wonderful people to make the magic happen. I am a lucky girl because I have a whole lot of wonderful people in my life.

Renee George, thank you for my beautiful cover. You are the bomb!

Meg Weglartz, thank you. You are the best editor a gal could have!

Donna McDonald, thank you. You are the most brilliant MST partner in the world!

My beta readers—Wanda and Susan, thank you. I adore you.

And to my readers… thank you. I do this for you

Steve, Henry and Audrey, thank you. I love you and you make everything worth it.

Dedication

This one is for Steve.

You’re both my Pirate and my true love!

Book Description

Ariel

What in the clam shell does a Mermaid have to do to find true love?

I’m bored. And if I’m being honest, I’m jealous. I want my sister to have her happily ever after. I do. But I want my own adventures and my own true love. For two hundred years I’ve suffered through one immortal asshat after another while stuck on Mystical Isle. And while running a tourist trap for humans might be entertaining, I’m never going to find my true love in this sea of monotony.

Of course, there is a Selkie… the sexiest most idiotic man-seal I’ve ever had the misfortune of swimming across—definitely an asshat. Unfortunately, the dork still invades my dreams on a regular basis.

I finally have a shot at an adventure. I must save our island home. However, the mission is to seek out the very Selkie who stole my heart… the same asshat whose Johnson I’d tried to truncate.

Holy hell and seashells. Only I would agree to a tsunami waiting to happen.

Ask any tuna you happen to see… Who’s the craziest Mermaid? That would be me.

Keith

What in Poseidon’s rum soaked arse does a three hundred year old Selkie do when his parents desert him and leave him to fend for himself?

I mean, my Gods, laundry and cooking are dangerous business.

Wait. What would Aquaman do? More specifically—what would Jason Momoa do?

He would save the day and the damsel… I simply needed to find a day and a damsel to save.

Maybe the only thing missing in my life is the beautiful blue haired Mermaid who wants to lop my Johnson off. Wait. No. A Johnson-less Selkie is not something I aspire to.

And to make matters worse, my mother is up my backside for grand-Selkies…

Grand-Selkies mean I have to impregnate someone. Impregnating someone means that I have to find a mate. Finding a mate means I have to get a job and use my gift—whatever that is.

This could be a problem.

Whatever. I’m going for it. Why?

Because that’s what freakin’ Aquaman would do.

1

Ariel

“Gather the swimming hookers,” Pirate Doug bellowed, stomping through the lobby of the resort in his absurdly dated puffy shirt, knee high boots and breeches. “We’ve got a problem.”

I rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh—or groan. He was a Pirate and he was five hundred years old… but come on, did he really have to dress like a Captain Hook wannabe?

“They are not hookers,” my sister Tallulah hissed at her questionably intelligent but very hot—despite the bad fashion choices—mate. “We’re Mermaids and if you can’t remember that I’ll twist your Johnson into a pretzel.”

“Aye, my bad,” Pirate Doug amended with a wide grin as he snapped his fingers and conjured up a steel pecker protector. “Gather the Mermaid hookers.”

I giggled as I watched my sister’s eyes narrow dangerously at her idiotic other half. He was every kind of ridiculous, but he loved Tallulah to distraction and she loved him right back. Training the dumbass to have social skills was taking up an inordinate amount of my sister’s time. Which left running our Bermuda Triangle island tourist business to me and my two other sisters—Misty and Madison.

I was getting bored. And if I was being honest… I was jealous. Not that I didn’t want Tallulah to be happy. I did. I adored my sister. I just wanted to have my own adventures and find my true love too. And I certainly wasn’t going to discover him stuck on Mystical Isle running a tourist trap for humans…

With an exasperated huff at her mate, Tallulah left the lobby and went back to work. However, Pirate Doug being the randy idiot that he was, copped a quick feel of her bottom as she exited. My sister’s squeal of delight made me close my eyes and shake my head. I really didn’t know what she saw in the dummy, but he clearly made her happy.

Me? He drove me nuts.

“Ariel, my lovely blue haired sister-in-law,” Pirate Doug said as he swept grandly up to the front desk that I was manning. “Have you seen my arses?”

“Okay, first of all… gross. As far as I know you only have one ass and if you have more than one I really don’t want to hear about it,” I said with a slight gag.

“Not my arse on my backside,” he explained. “As fabulous as it is, the world couldn’t handle more than one. I’m talking about my crew of arses.”

My lacking in the brains department brother-in-law was referring to his Pirate crew—Bonar, Upton and Thornycraft. And he was correct. They were arses. However, they’d grown on me in the six months they’d been living on the island. They were missing more brain cells than Pirate Doug but they were funny and bizarrely sweet. Understanding them was a slight challenge as they mostly spoke Pirate, but they’d become the brothers I’d never had and never really wanted.

“They’re on the beach leading the human guests in Sunrise Yoga,” I told him.

“Sweet Poseidon on a bender in a rum distillery,” Pirate Doug said, paling considerably. “That’s a shite idea. Might be bad for business.”

“Why?” I asked growing alarmed.

We’d just reopened our resort. After a drawn out war with the odiferous and toothless Sea Hags, we’d had a lot of rebuilding to do. Even though we now had a truce with the Hags, the damage had been done. We needed paying human guests if we were going to survive in the competitive tourist trap business.

“Upton is very flexible—can lick his own nards. Not sure that will be an appetizing sight before the morning meal.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” I shouted, jumping out from behind the front desk and sprinting toward the colorful seashell encrusted archway that led to the beach.

“No, I’m fucking your sister,” Pirate Doug replied in confusion, running right on my heels.

“No, I meant… never mind,” I huffed. Trying to explain what one meant to Pirate Doug was a losing proposition that could take weeks or years. Most of us had simply given up.

I stopped short and sucked in a horrified breath as I came upon a terrifying sight. Upton could indeed lick his nards and was demonstrating proudly, much to the shock of the guests. He was twisted into a position that appeared incredibly painful. A few humans were snapping photos with their phones. We really didn’t need Upton’s face in his bits all over the internet. I was not of the mind that thought all publicity was good publicity. A Pirate with his lips touching his nards was not good publicity.

“Enough. Take your freakin’ balls out of your mouth,” I shouted. Never in my two hundred years on this Earth had I ever used those words together in a sentence. I covertly aimed a blast of magic directly at the object of Upton’s tongue’s affections.

Luckily the humans had turned their attention to me and missed the sparkling blue spiral of magic that landed exactly where I sent it. It was a well-known fact that Mermaids and other immortal creatures were gifted in the enchantment department, but it was best that the mortals didn’t actually witness all we could do.

“Me nards are on fire,” Upton screamed as he sprinted his naked self across the pristine white sand and into the ocean to cool down his balls. “Ariel, yarr a blue haired, cod faced tar stain,” he grunted right before he submerged his flaming testicles in the salty water. “Ye might be pretty to look at, but yarr an evil wench!”

The only part of his insult he’d gotten correct was my hair color and the fact that I was attractive. All Mermaids aka Sirens were beautiful. We were created by Poseidon to lure innocent men into our traps. That practice was now totally old school. These days the only traps we ran were for tourists and we dated immortal asshats, not innocent men—or at least I did.

A Mermaid’s hair and eyes were set from birth. My color was blue, Tallulah’s was lavender, Misty’s was emerald green and Madison’s was pink. Each Mermaid’s hair and eyes matched and were unique to them. No two were alike. However, the color of our tails changed with our moods and our fashion choices. Later today when I had time to hit the water my tail would be shimmering black—I was feeling grumpy and Upton’s disgusting contortionist act certainly didn’t help.

“So sorry about that,” I said to our guests with a smile plastered on my face that I prayed to Poseidon didn’t look fake. “Please come back to the lodge. Breakfast is served—that is if you still have an appetite.”

A shell-shocked looking group of mortals slowly made their way back to the festive outdoor restaurant at the resort. Upton, having realized he was soaking his injured nut sac in salt water continued to shriek like a girl. Thornycraft, Bonar and Pirate Doug were laughing.

I wasn’t.

I really needed a vacation or an adventure… or at the very least, a day off.

Another day in paradise was sucking the big one.

* * *

“Upton did what?” Madison asked with her eyes squinted at me.

“Licked his own nuts in front of fourteen paying human guests. Two of them were children. I’m expecting a few lawsuits or at least some therapy bills,” I replied, plopping down on the rainbow velvet couch in the luxurious quarters that I shared with my sisters. It was wildly colorful and eclectic—just like us. Tallulah had moved to her own lovely cottage on the other side of our island with Pirate Doug after they’d mated. This was a very good thing as they tended to be loud.

“Like put his balls in his mouth?” Misty inquired, trying not to laugh.

“Yep. And from where I was standing it looked like his nose was stuck in his crack,” I replied with a shudder at the horrifying memory.

“Pirates are just all kinds of wrong,” Misty said, shaking her head and sitting down next to me. “What are they?”

“What are who?” Madison asked as she snapped her fingers and conjured up three Pina Coladas. “These are virgin,” she promised as she handed one to me and one to Misty. “Not that a porno exhibition on the beach at seven AM doesn’t merit some rum, but I figured we can start getting soused at lunch.”

“What exactly are Upton, Thornycraft and Bonar?” Misty repeated as she retrieved a bottle of rum from the stash we kept hidden under the couch. She topped off her own drink and handed me the bottle.

I took a healthy swig and winced. It was next to impossible for a Mermaid to get seriously drunk, but I was going to try. The day ahead was most certainly going to be filled with mind numbing surprises. Pirate Doug still wanted to have a meeting.

“According to our sticky fingered brother-in-law, they’re arses,” I said with a giggle as I took another swig.

“That’s a given,” Madison agreed and took the bottle from my hands. After chugging the remainder of the rum, she hiccupped and giggled. “But what kind of immortal species are they? I know they’re older than dirt. I just don’t have any clue what they are.”

“Well, Pirate Doug is a Vampire and heir to Poseidon’s throne. I know for sure the arses aren’t Vamps,” Madison said.

“How?” I asked.

“No sunscreen,” she replied. “Ol’ Dougie can’t go outside without 100 SPF slathered all over him.”

“Right,” I said, trying to imagine which kind of creatures the idiots could be. “Well, most animals can lick their nards. You think they’re some sort of shifter?”

“Possibly,” Misty said. “But in the battle with the Kraken, none of them shifted.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Maybe their species is better left a mystery. There’s only so much alarming news I can handle today.”

“Speaking of alarming… does anyone have any idea what Pirate Slug wants to discuss?” Madison asked.

“Nope,” I said, standing up and wanting to get it over with. “However, if the jackhole suggests we wear Hooter’s uniforms again during work hours, I’ll castrate him.”

“Here,” Misty said, clapping her hands and producing a dull butter knife.

“What is this for?” I asked, examining it.

“For member removal,” she said with a naughty grin. “Our brother-in-law can regenerate his limbs and other stuff. If you’re gonna remove his Johnson, you’re gonna make it hurt.”

My grin spread wide across my lips.

I loved my sisters so much.

Having my own true love like Tallulah did would be awesome, but until that time came all my love and affection was reserved for my devilishly fabulous sisters.

Not exactly the perfect situation, but for now it was pretty damned good.

2

Keith

“Get up, you lazy sack of seahorse dung,” my brother Kurt shouted as he poured freezing ocean water over my head.

“Getting my beauty sleep, dong bucket,” I grumbled and gave him a solid gut kick that sent him flying across the room. “What time is it anyway? Seven am?”

“It’s noon, you water logged asscrack,” Kurt said as he dive bombed me and landed an excellent left hook to my face that sent my head snapping back.

“I don’t get up before one,” I growled with my eyes still closed. Without opening them, I kicked his legs out from underneath him as he moved to nail me again.

The sound of him hitting the wall was music to my ears. Prying one eye open, I was pleased to see that his head was embedded in the plaster. I was not losing my touch—at all.

“Mom is going to kick your sorry Selkie ass, Keith,” came his muffled threat since his head was still stuck in the wall.

A shudder of terror ran through me. My brother was correct. Our mother’s wrath was legendary and her upper cut was vicious. She would not be pleased that we’d demolished yet another room in the house. Living in one’s parents’ basement didn’t leave much leeway for mass destruction of drywall. Shite, I really needed to get my own place, but then I’d have to do my own laundry and cook.

“Mom loves that we still live at home,” I said, rolling out of my bed and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Damn, I was a good looking bastard—six foot four of blond haired, blue eyed perfection.

“Ummm, I beg to differ, jackwad,” Kurt said, pulling his head out of the wall. Unfortunately most of the wall crumbled as he detached his head from the plaster. “We’re over three hundred years old. Don't ya think we should move out?”

He did have a point. Living at home cramped my style a bit. However the laundry thing was a real issue.

“Next week,” I told my brother. “We’ll move out next week.”

“You’ve been saying that for a century,” he reminded me with a grin.

“As soon as I get a job or figure out my purpose in life, we’ll find a nice island full of beautiful women,” I promised.

“Who can cook and do laundry?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

* * *

“We’re going on vacation,” my mother said, eyeing us with distaste.

“You mean like for an afternoon?” I asked, seating myself at the dining room table and digging into the massive pile of pancakes.

“Nope. We’re going for about a decade or seven.”

“Or ten,” my father grumbled as he smacked my hand before I could take all of the pancakes.

“Your father and I are going to give you two wastes of space the house. Poseidon knows, you’ve already destroyed it. And since we can’t seem to persuade you to move out. We’re taking the initiative and going on a permanent vacation,” she said, handing me a napkin. “You have syrup on your chin, Keith.”

“I put it there on purpose,” I replied, playing it off. “So let me get this straight. You’re taking a vacation. Right?”

“Correct,” my father said, watching me warily.

“To?” I questioned.

“That’s confidential information,” my mother replied, narrowing her icy blue eyes at me.

My mother was gorgeous—we all were. Selkies are a ridiculously pretty species and I took full advantage of my good looks. It had nearly gotten me killed by angry mobs of women numerous times over my long life, but a man had to do what a man had to do.

“And does this particular vacation home have guest rooms?” I pressed.

“Nope. No guest rooms,” my father grunted.

“A basement perchance?” Kurt questioned, not liking the direction of the conversation any more than I did.

“Nope. No basement,” my father added. “No floor space, no couch and no attic.”

“A pool?” I asked hopefully. We were water creatures. I’d be fine sleeping in a heated pool. A little pruney maybe, but fine.

“Nope. You violent, lazy bastards are on your own,” he said, standing up with a huge smile on his handsome face.

“How many decades did you say?” I asked, pushing my plate away. My appetite was gone. How could they leave helpless children alone and unsupervised? We’d kill each other.

My mother signed dramatically and ran her hands through her long blonde hair. “You are both over three hundred years old. It’s high time you left home—or in this case you can keep the home. We’re leaving.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for something that life-changingly drastic?” Kurt asked. “I mean won’t you worry about your little boys?”

“Nope,” my dad said, his grin growing wider.

I was shocked they would actually do it. Our island was a literal paradise—it was even called Paradise Island for the love of everything salty. It couldn’t be found on any map, therefore humans never ventured here. We were free to use magic and be ourselves. Only Selkies inhabited our perfect little secret—along with a very rare Crab Shifter Pirate named Sven. It was the ideal setup for creatures like us and now my parents were going to ruin it. Well, not for them—for us.

“You’ll be fine. And if you’re not, at least we’ll be fine,” my mother announced. “It’s high time for you boys to grow up. I’m the only one in my Mahjong group that doesn’t have grandbabies. Do you have any idea how depressing that is?”

“How about we get you a dog?” I suggested, not really understanding the problem.

Grandchildren meant that I would have to impregnate someone. Impregnating someone meant that I had to find a mate. Finding a mate meant that I had to get a job. Getting a job meant I couldn’t sleep till one. Not happening. Besides there had only been one delectable creature that I’d thought was my true love and she didn’t really like me much. Well, that was an understatement. She despised me—tried to dismember me.

“How about no?” my mother countered, throwing a syrupy pancake at my head. “You both need to get jobs and lives. We’re guilty of enabling you. Both of you have a rare gift and it’s about time you started using it.”

“About that,” I said, peeling the pancake from my forehead and eating it. “Would you like to give us a hint about that gift?”

“You’re a Selkie. Figure it out for yourselves,” my father bellowed. “No more spoon feeding.”

Kurt raised his hand politely and my mother smiled at his good manners. Damn it, I wish I’d thought of that. If they took him and left me here, I was going to throw a fit like they’d never seen. Or at the very least I would rearrange my brother’s face before they left.

“Kurt?” my mother said, calling on him.

“Umm, what if we can’t figure it out and we die of starvation, neglect, lack of love and no necessary parental guidance?” he inquired.

The asshole was good—very good.

My mother’s laugh rang out and my father rolled his eyes.

“I’m quite sure you will figure it out. Both of you are destined for greatness according to Poseidon—who may or may not have been drunk when he shared that information. You just have to get up before noon and get your shit together,” she said, waving her hand and producing twenty suitcases, fully packed and ready to go. “Your father and I will be in touch—occasionally. I’ve made a few vegetable casseroles. They’re in the freezer and there are about fifty boxes of cereal in the pantry. That should last you a week until you’ll have to forage for food.”

“Seriously?” I griped.

“You’re right,” she amended. “That will last you eating machines two days. Remember, we love you and we’re doing this for your own good.”

“And our own sanity,” my father added.

“Yes, that too,” my mother agreed and then sighed in resignation. “And because you two are the slightly bruised apples of my eye, I will give you a few hints.”

My mother gathered her Chanel purse and her Prada sunglasses from the table and moved to stand next to my father. “Think about what comes easily to you.”

“Wooing the ladies?” I volunteered.

“Umm, no,” she said, rolling her eyes in disgust. “Think with the head on your shoulders—not the one in your pants.”

Damn it. That was going to be difficult.

“If you think hard, you will discover your gift. It’s something you’re very good at,” she said.

“And if all else fails—and Poseidon knows it probably will—go to Sven. He’s a very smart Pirate Crab,” my father added.

“Interesting,” I said with a wince. “Sven isn’t too fond of us at the moment.”

“Toilet papering his yard before a monsoon wasn’t the best idea you’ve had,” my mother chided. “I’d suggest an apology if you choose to go to him.”

“He’s going to want to kick our asses. We could die,” Kurt pointed out, still trying to play on their sympathies.

My brother was a master.

“Payback’s a bitch, boys,” my father said with a wide grin.

Or maybe Kurt wasn’t a master…

“And yours has been coming for a few centuries,” my father added.

With that, my traitorous parental units left in a cloud of silver smoke taking their suitcases with them. We were now ass deep in trouble.

“Do you know how to work the microwave?” Kurt whispered with terror in his eyes.

“No. No, I don’t. But how hard can it be?”

It turned out to be very hard. So hard that we blew up the kitchen and ended up having to eat all fifty boxes of cereal so we didn’t die of starvation. Life as we’d known it was over. I had no clean boxer briefs and Kurt was down to his last pair of shorts that didn’t have food stains.

We were fucked.

Going to Sven the Pirate Crab was our only option.

May Poseidon save our hungry asses.

3

Ariel

“Look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?” I said, playing with the shiny pile of new brochures for the resort while we waited for Pirate Doug to start the meeting.

The Pirate in question was busy yelling at his crew of arses for scaring the humans with the nard licking episode. That could take a while…

“Hmmm, would you say your collection’s complete?” Misty teased.

“Wouldn’t you say you’re a girl—a girl who has everything?” Madison finished with a giggle.

“I do believe you’re making fun of me, you buttholes,” I said with a raised brow as I tossed the brochures at them.

“I do believe we are, Joan,” Misty said with a grin, picking up the scattered pile and placing them back neatly on the desk of our spacious and colorful hotel office.

“My name is not Joan anymore. Joan is a ridiculous name for a Mermaid,” I grumbled. “I’m Ariel.”

“Little too Disney for me, Princess,” Madison said with a grin.

“You’re certainly a fine one to talk, Miss-I-Watched-Splash-Entirely-Too-Many-Times and then assumed the name Madison,” Tallulah said joining us in the office with a laugh.

“The name Cindy sucks,” Madison griped. “I’m much more of a Madison than a Cindy.”

“Whatever,” Tallulah said with a shake of her head and a smile. “Get a load of this.”

She placed a piece of paper in front of us and then crossed her arms over her chest and waited with wide-eyed delight.

“Sweet motherhumpin’ chicken of the sea, what the hell is that? Have the humans already sued us over the nut sack catastrophe?” I demanded, noticing all of the zeros in the number with great alarm.

“Umm, no, thank Poseidon. It’s an offer to buy one of the new cottages we had built on the island,” Tallulah said with excitement in her voice.

“For real?” Misty asked, examining the price quoted. “You asked for a million dollars?”

“Nope,” Tallulah said. “I told them the cottages weren’t for sale and they offered a million.”

“Who are they?” Madison asked.

“Selkies,” Tallulah said. “A mated couple. Stellar references. Said they couldn’t take living where they were anymore and heard about our island. They just want some peace and quiet. Apparently, they were living in some sort of hell.”

“But we’re a tourist trap—with humans who witnessed a Pirate putting his balls in his mouth,” I pointed out with a shudder. “If they want peace and quiet why would they come here?”

“Only one side of the island houses the resort—and testicular mishaps,” Tallulah said, clearly trying to sell us on the idea. “Three fourths of the island is totally private. And Upton, Thornycraft and Bonar aren’t allowed on that side.”

“Since when?” Misty asked, confused.

“Since today,” Tallulah shot back with a smirk. “And if they pull another pornographic contortionist act they’ll be confined to the ship.”

“It was only Upton that licked his bits,” I told her wanting to be fair to the arses. “As far as I know, Bonar and Thornycraft can’t do that.”

“You don’t want to know what Bonar and Thornycraft can do,” Tallulah said with a slight gag. “Trust me on this.”

I was silent for a long moment as I internally debated if I wanted to know.

I stayed silent.

I didn’t want to know.

I’d leave their hidden talents in the same hidey-hole as their species. Some things were best left to the imagination.

“I say yes,” Misty said and then quickly added, “to the Selkies buying the cottage. Not to learning the disgusting secrets of the arses.”

“Ariel likes Selkies,” Madison sang with a wide grin.

“I liked a Selkie… for a very hot minute until I figured out what a douche canoe he was,” I snapped, remembering the sexiest and most idiotic man I’d ever had the misfortune to come across. Sadly the dumbass still invaded my thoughts on a regular basis.

“What went wrong with that one?” Tallulah asked. “As I remember he was insanely beautiful and the chemistry was off the map.”

“In the middle of the best boink I’d ever experienced, he asked if I was a good cook and wondered if I’d be willing to do his laundry,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the memory.

“You’re shitting me,” Misty said with a laugh.

“I shit you not,” I replied. “He almost left a soprano. Have you ever heard of such a sexist request—during boinking?”

“Doug does his own laundry. He even offered to do mine, but when I caught the dumbass boiling our clothes in a cooking pot in his ship I put an end to that. Now he boils his own clothes. I’m happy doing mine—in a washing machine,” Tallulah said with a giggle. “We’re a fifty-fifty relationship or he loses his Johnson. Well, except for the laundry. He’s on his own with that shitshow.”

“Smart move,” Madison said. “And I vote yes on the Selkies too.”

“Ariel?” Tallulah questioned.

Selkies were tricky. They were loaded with magic and could be violent—not that we were much different. A million dollars was a lot of money and if their references were good it might be fine. We could do massive improvements to the resort and start making some real money—maybe even hire a few Mermaids from the neighboring islands to help. Maybe I could take a long overdue vacation and go on a wild adventure to find my true love.

Poseidon only knew, the job was almost getting too much for my sisters and me to handle. A mated Selkie couple who wanted peace and quiet couldn’t be anything like the gorgeous jackhole Selkie who still unfortunately haunted my dreams.

“Yep, I’m cool with it. When do they want to move here?”

“Today,” Tallulah replied.

“That sounds a little suspect,” I pointed out, pursing my lips. “Are we sure they’re not running from something nefarious? We finally have a truce with the stinky ass Sea Hags. We really don’t need anyone bringing trouble to the island.”

“Not entirely sure,” Tallulah admitted with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “That thought crossed my mind as well, but they do come highly recommended and it has gotten a bit boring around here lately.”

“You mean Pirates going down on themselves isn’t enough excitement for you?” I asked with a laugh.

“Speaking of…” Tallulah said as Pirate Doug entered the office followed by a very contrite Upton.

Thornycraft and Bonar were still laughing. Upton not so much.

“Hookers, I’m sorry I licked me bits,” Upton apologized. “Won’t be revealing me pecker in public anymore. Yarr have nothing to worry about thar. Me nards will stay in me breeches.”

“Apology accepted,” I said, biting back my grin. I really did like the arses. I just never wanted to see their privates ever again.

“Aye,” Pirate Doug said, satisfied that the gross event was forgiven. “I think we should have the meeting on the ship.”

“Why?” I asked. “We have complete privacy in the office. It’s even soundproofed.”

“Do you want the island to smell like a massive butt?” he inquired.

“Hell to the no,” I snapped. “Did you idiots eat beans for breakfast again?”

“Nay,” Pirate Doug said with a chuckle. “I need my sister, Bony Velma Dustface at the meeting. And since we have paying humans who have already been traumatized once today, I thought it best we host my stinky sibling on the ship anchored out in the ocean.”

“Do we really need to include the Sea Hags?” Tallulah asked.

Pirate Doug nodded. “This could affect all of us. We have a huge fucking problem on our hands.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “Maybe the Selkies won’t want to live here. Maybe I don’t want to live here.”

“Enough of your whining, little Mermaid,” Madison admonished. “Grab a nose plug. We’re going to the ship.”

4

Keith

“We’re gonna starve to death,” Kurt whispered with wild eyes as he rocked back and forth in a ball on the floor.

My brother voiced the same horrifying thought I was having. We’d gone through the fifty boxes of cereal in an hour. Because the microwave and most of the kitchen were burnt to a crisp, we’d scarfed the casseroles ice cold and frozen rock hard. Not the best of situations, but we tended to be stress eaters. Thank Poseidon that our metabolism was insane. We’d be the size of orcas if it wasn’t for that magical perk. However, now we had nothing to eat—at all.

“Do you have any clue where to get food?” I asked, trying to be proactive and positive.

“I know it comes in bags,” Kurt offered. “Brown paper bags with little fishies on them.”

“That doesn’t fucking help,” I snapped. “And we don’t eat fish. I can’t eat things I can converse with. You feel me, sphincter brains?”

“Pictures of fishies, you idiotic rectum knob,” Kurt shouted, jumping to his feet.

I paused and stared at my brother in admiration. “Did you make that up?” I asked.

“The fishy bags?” he asked, confused.

“No. The idiotic rectum knob part. It was excellent.”

Kurt grinned. “I did. I’m thinking about starting a blog on the interwebs. I’m outstanding with the insults.”

“That you are, you crusty dookie whistle,” I replied. “And I’m not so bad myself. However, do you know how to work a computer?”

“No. Do you?”

“How hard can it be?” I asked and then blanched. I’d thought using a microwave would be simple. I was incorrect.

Kurt sighed and sat down in the charred area the used to be the kitchen. “Do you think Mom and Dad were right?”

“About?”

“Us being useless wastes of space?”

I pondered the idea and then brushed it aside. “Absolutely not. We’re far too good looking.” I said, hoping like hell that being beautiful counted. “We just need to find our gifts. Poseidon said we had some. And if that green haired bastard said we have gifts then we have fucking gifts. While I have no clue what in the Seven Seas he was talking about, I find comfort that the fashion challenged God of the Sea believes in us.”

“Mom said he was drunk when he told her that,” Kurt pointed out unhelpfully.

“Your point?” I asked not following.

“Umm, no point, just an observation. Do you want me to punch you in the head?” my brother offered politely.

Normally a good left hook to my cranium woke me up and got me going. But…

“Thank you, but no,” I said, surprising both of us. “Something is very wrong here.”

“Ya think?” Kurt asked, on the verge of a panic attack. “I don’t even want to hit you. That’s never been the case in three hundred years. What would Aquaman do in this situation?”

“Which one?” I asked. “The Super Friends, Marvel, Smallville, Justice League or Jason Momoa Aquaman?”

Kurt shook his head and stared at me. “You watch entirely too much television.”

“It’s a legitimate question,” I countered with an eye roll. Aquaman was our go to guy when we couldn’t figure shit out. However, the advice we gleaned from our hero rarely worked out which was why I started compiling the vast knowledge of all the Aquamen. “There are at least fifty.”

“Fine,” Kurt said. “Umm… Jason Momoa. What would he do?”

“He has a mate. That sexy Lisa Bonet who I bet does his laundry and knows where to find fishy bags of food,” I shouted as the realization of our dire situation really sank in. Maybe getting a mate was the answer. Well shite, that wasn’t an option at the moment. The only one I’d ever really wanted didn’t want me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine why.

“We’re screwed,” Kurt said.

“Son of a fucking seahorse, we’re going to have go to Sven the insane Crab Pirate,” I told my brother with a shudder. “No choice here. If we starve to death no one will find us because we were deserted by our parents—who are supposed to love and protect their children.”

“Umm… we’re not exactly children,” Kurt said.

He had me there… However, I had an answer for everything with absolutely no regard to making sense.

“But we’re clearly helpless,” I shot back in triumph. “Look at the mess we made. Only helpless boner waffles could blow up a kitchen while using a microwave. Right?”

“Right!” Kurt agreed and then paused. “Wait, we kind of sound like idiots.”

I paced and mulled over his observation. “Correct. We’ll keep that intel confidential. Won’t help us with the ladies. However, we still have to go to Sven.”

“He wants to kill us,” Kurt reminded me.

“This is true. However, we’re extremely difficult to kill. Case in point, we were in the kitchen when it blew up and we’re fine for the most part. I mean, you’re missing some hair on the left side of your head and my eyebrows have taken a brief holiday from my face, but we’re still here.”

“You’re right,” Kurt said, feeling proud. “Let’s get ready to go beg the Crab for help and possibly an invite to dinner. Should we change clothes?” he asked looking down at his singed beachwear.

“Nope, don’t have any clean ones. I have a better idea. Insult me,” I insisted. “That will make both of us feel better and get us ready to take on the undead crustacean.”

Kurt’s brow wrinkled in concentration as he thought. It was impressive.

“Pompous butt hammer,” he shouted.

“Wonderful,” I shouted back at him and then went for it. “Pie eating bitch clown.”

“Yessssss,” Kurt bellowed, giving me a high five. “Dumbass shart hound.”

“You da man,” I yelled, grinning at my disgusting brother. “Dickface butt socket.”

“Let’s go see Sven!” Kurt screamed, sprinting out of the house pumped up on insults like a body builder on steroids.

“Right behind you!”

We were going to be just fine.

Or else our parents would eventually find our starving, pathetic Selkie carcasses in shallow graves on Sven’s property…

* * *

“Yarr rapscallions are trespassing. Yarr better take yarr pegged legged salty nards off me land or ye will be dancin’ the hempen jig,” Sven roared standing in the doorway of his remarkably attractive bungalow.

“What the hell did he just say?” Kurt whispered.

“No fucking clue, but I’m pretty sure he’s not inviting us in,” I muttered under my breath.

“Yarr picaroons put arse paper in me yard before a monsoon. It’s still stuck in me trees, ye eejits,” Sven bellowed.

The man was huge and pissed. The Crab Shifter Pirate stood about six foot five and had pinchers instead of hands. His hair was a grizzled iron grey and there wasn’t a speck of fat on the mean old bastard.

“About that,” I said, stepping out in front of my brother. “Kurt would like to apologize for toilet papering your yard. He was drunk.”

“What?” Kurt hissed, punching me in the back of the head and sending me flying across the lawn. “You’re blaming me, you arrogant ass whacker? It was your idea.”

“Dude, I’m trying to save our lives here. You’re being a jack nard,” I shouted.

“Whose life?” Kurt demanded. “Yours? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you’re not saving mine, you lame ass badonkadonk sniffer.”

“All right that’s it,” I grunted as I tackled my ungrateful sibling and nailed him with a solid right hook.

“Is that all you got, tap dancing wedgie puffer?” Kurt snarled as he put me in a chokehold and yanked my boxer briefs up my crack.

“Low blow, chunky tool stump,” I screeched as I tried to twist out of his hold.

It was a smack down free for all and neither of us was winning. However, neither of us was losing either.

“Enough,” Sven roared and separated us, picking us up with his pinchers and tossing us to opposite sides of the yard. “Yarr are getting on me last nerve. Yarr sound like twelve year old human boys. It’s no wonder yarr are single—no lassie would have an eejit like ye. I don’t have time for this shite. I was right in the middle of me program.”

“What were you watching, Mr. Pirate Sven?” Kurt asked.

Sven grinned and I inwardly cursed my brother’s good manners… again.

“Waterworld,” Sven replied. “Finest cinema ever made.”

“That movie sucks,” I muttered and then shut my pie hole as Sven growled.

“Don’t ye be badmouthin’ Waterworld, ye puke bellied rope burn,” Sven said.

“I liked Waterworld,” the kiss ass Kurt volunteered.

“Still say it sucked,” I announced. I had to stand up for what was right. “You should watch Sharknado or Avalanche Shark. Now those are movies.”

Sven’s eyes narrowed dangerously and I swallowed the damning knowledge of the box office receipts of Waterworld. There was no way in Poseidon’s Seven Seas we’d be invited to dinner if I shared those dismal facts. I wasn’t sure we’d be invited to dinner regardless, but no reason to piss the Crab off even more.

“State yarr business and then get yarr arses off me property,” Sven grunted, folding his arms over his massive chest and eyeing us with distrust.

“Umm, okay,” I said, wondering what Aquaman would do in this situation. I knew our business had to be good—really good. Sven wasn’t exactly fond of us. “We’re being chased by evil government-backed, underwater, genetically enhanced water buffalo. It’s a crises of epic proportions and we’re out of sustenance at the moment. We were curious if you had any cereal or possibly some ice cream to spare.”

“Are ye daft?” Sven snapped with an eye roll. “That’s the worst story I’ve ever heard in all me years. Try again.”

Glancing over at Kurt, I realized he was going to be useless in this exercise. He simply didn’t watch enough television to come up with a semi plausible scenario. Fine. I was on my own here.

Not a problem.

“The Loch Ness Monster is in menopause and wants to eat Puerto Rico and we have to stop her, but we’re out of Lucky Charms,” I said, making direct eye contact so my story could possibly be construed as truth.

Sven shook his head in disgust and waited for another one.

“Okay… umm … Fishermen are catching Mermaids and shrinking them to miniature sizes to put them into cans of tuna as prizes. This is horrifying and a waste of some really hot chicks. In order to save the innocent sex pots from this dastardly fate, we’ll be needing some pizza and cake,” I tried again.

“Clearly ye was dropped on yerr head as a child—more than once,” Sven muttered. “Get ye gone. Yerr idiocy is making me gassy.”

Kurt slapped the back of my head and hissed in my ear. “We gotta tell him the truth.”

“Says who?” I asked.

“It’s what Aquaman would do.”

Shite. He was correct. We were fucked and lies were bad. My lies were particularly bad.

“Fine,” I said. “Our parents deserted us. I have no clue why. It was very irresponsible of them, but they seemed very keen on doing it. Kurt blew up the kitchen and we ate fifty boxes of cereal and twelve frozen casseroles.”

“Go on,” Sven said as he made himself comfortable on a wooden bench on his front porch.

“The green haired, jackwad of the sea told our mother—who clearly doesn’t love us anymore—that we had gifts.”

“Who in the hell are ye talking about, boy?” Sven asked.

“Poseidon,” Kurt volunteered, helping me out. “The drunken, green haired, fashion impaired God of the Sea.”

“Aye.” Sven nodded in understanding and waited for more.

“So our dad, for lack of a better word, told us to talk to you if we had any trouble after their unwarranted desertion. We were hoping you might know our gifts… or want some dinner guests,” I finished lamely.

The Crab clacked his pinchers together and observed us. Rolling his eyes and muttering in disgust, he clearly wasn’t impressed with what he saw or heard. Kurt immediately began doing his big eyed look that he always gave our mom after he’d demolished part of the house. It was a smart move—usually worked. I joined him.

“What’s wrong with ye dumbarses? Yarr got sand in yarr eyes?” Sven questioned in confusion. “Ye look weird.”

“Shite,” I mumbled. “We’re out of tricks.”

Kurt gave me a pathetic look. I could tell he was starving or maybe he had gas from the casseroles. No matter. It was time to find my inner fucking Jason Momoa and save the day.

“We’re fucked. We need your help. Apparently it’s time for us to grow up according to our turncoat parents. I’m looking for a Lisa Bonet type to do my laundry, cook and boink—preferably a Mermaid… fairly violent, with blue hair and a tremendous rack, hypothetically speaking. I figure I should find out what my gift is so I can expedite this venture. I was wondering if you might have a clue as to what this gift might be.”

“Ditto,” Kurt said, with a thumbs up to me. “Except I’ll take anything with a great rack.”

“Are ye both brain damaged?”

“Not as far as we know,” I supplied as Kurt nodded his agreement.

The Pirate just stared and if I wasn’t mistaken, tried not to laugh. What the seahorse? Our plight was tragic, not funny.

“Aye, I might know,” Sven grumbled.

“You know our gift?” I asked, shocked. Maybe today wasn’t going down as the worst day in the history of our lives…

“Aye, I know yarr gift, but yarr gonna have to clean the arse paper up before I decide if I’m gonna tell ye. Get to work, ye tar stains. Yarr wasting daylight,” he said with a belly laugh as he went back into his bungalow and slammed the door.

“You heard the Crab,” I told Kurt. “Start cleaning up the arse paper.”

“I distinctly heard the word yarr—meaning both of us, you skidmark,” Kurt snapped. “If I’m gonna do it, you are too.”

“Or?” I challenged with a grin.

“Or I’ll tie your sorry ass to a chair and make you watch Waterworld for a month,” he threatened.

“You’re a hard man and a complete gaping douche canoe,” I replied with a laugh as I began to remove the wads of wet paper from the bushes and trees.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome,” I said.

If I was going to have to spend the next six hours touching soggy arse paper, there was no one in the world I’d rather do it with. Kurt was a complete and total jackhole and the best brother a Selkie could have.

5

Ariel

I adored Pirate Doug’s ship. I didn’t love how disgustingly messy it was and I would totally redecorate it in all shades of blue to match my hair if it was mine, but it gave me a real feeling of inner peace. The thought of gliding across the salty water with the wind in my hair and without a care in the world was thrilling. Adventures and far off places called to my soul. Sometimes I felt my painfully long life was passing me by while I was running a tourist trap with my siblings on the Mystical Isle.

Whatever. I was fine. I had sisters who adored me and a lovely home on the ocean. Longing for Prince Charming and risky exploits on the open waters was a waste of time. Prince Charming didn’t exist—or at least he didn’t exist for me. Sadly, I was attracted to idiots and tourist traps didn’t run themselves.

“Let’s get this shitshow on the road,” Misty said. “We’ve left the human guests unattended on the island. Some of them are having PTSD due to Upton swallowing his nuts this morning.”

“Word,” I said with a giggle and a small gag.

My sisters and I carefully seated ourselves on the only semi clean lawn chairs on the deck. I was fairly sure they’d been stolen by the sticky fingered Pirates somewhere along the way. Tallulah was working with Pirate Doug on his pilfering habit. He was now only allowed to steal from corrupt politicians and criminals every other Tuesday. So far so good—there were plenty of corrupt politicians.

The air suddenly changed and the wind picked up making the waves dance and crash against the ship. The clouds floated over the sun and made the afternoon sky appear ominous. I glanced over at Tallulah in alarm, but she just shook her head and popped a clothespin onto her nose.

Awesome… the Hags were close.

I was unclear why we needed the Sea Hags, but according to Pirate Doug the problem we were about to face was large.

“Do we know why in the ever loving seashells we’re here?” Bony Velma Dustface inquired as she arrived on the deck of the ship in a cloud of stinky green mist. “I was in the middle of a Price is Right marathon when my questionably intelligent brother demanded my presence on his frigate. Bob Barker was on a roll today.”

“Bob’s a hot piece of ass,” Rickety Shelia Clotlegs grunted and made herself comfortable on a filthy chaise lounge.

The waft of stank Rickety Sheila emitted made me ecstatic that I’d remembered a clothespin to plug my nose. While it was nice being friendly with the Sea Hags, their utter disregard to hygiene was still gag inducing.

Bony Velma—as usual—had shown up with her smelly Sea Hag sidekick, Rickety Shelia Clotlegs. Up until six months ago they were our deadly immortal enemies. Now they were our extremely odiferous and abstractly related allies. Since Tallulah had mated with Pirate Doug and Bony Velma was his sister it had been decided that we were all distantly bonded. Thankfully they lived in a cave about five miles from our island and the stench didn’t carry that far.

“All right people—for lack of a better word,” Doug said eyeing all gathered on the deck as he raised his arms to the sky causing his embarrassingly dated puffy sleeved shirt to flutter in the wind. “We are gathered here today to witness…”

“Oh my chicken of the sea,” I shouted. “Are you and Tallulah getting freakin’ married?”

“No, we’re not getting freakin’ married,” Tallulah said with an eye roll. “That’s a human ritual. We’re already mated.”

“Do you want to get freakin’ married?” Pirate Doug inquired of my sister.

“Do you?” Tallulah asked.

“Sure. How about after we solve the fucking problem we have.”

“Fine by me,” Tallulah agreed.

“I’ll make the wedding cake,” Bony Velma offered.

“No,” my sisters and I shouted in unison while trying not to hurl.

The Sea Hag’s eyes narrowed to slits and she began to glow a menacing puke green. Not a good sign…

“What we meant was that Upton makes all the cakes,” I said quickly before Bony Velma got her stink on and we all died from asphyxiation. Not that we could die easily, but we could definitely be wounded by her aroma or any cake she made. “Upton would be heartbroken if he couldn’t make the freakin’ wedding cake.”

“I can’t cook,” Upton announced unhelpfully.

“Shut your pie hole,” I hissed. “Earlier today I distinctly remember hearing how much you enjoyed baking seven layered wedding cakes.” I gave him a withering glare hoping he would play along.

Upton, lacking cells in the brain department, simply appeared confused.

“Was that when me nards were in me mouth?” he asked. “Ye might have misunderstood me.”

Head butting him wouldn’t be good form, so I nodded. “Yep—nards in mouth and nope I heard you loud and clear,” I said, wiggling my finger and sealing his idiot lips shut so he couldn’t speak anymore and screw up my lie. “So that’s the plan. Upton will make the freakin’ cake.”

“Upton can swallow his testicles?” Bony Velma asked, clearly impressed. “I’d bet Bob Barker can swallow his own nards as well. The man is a genius.”

That certainly left an awkward pause in the conversation as we were all now picturing Bob Barker licking his nuts.

“I am so confused,” Pirate Doug shouted, stomping his foot and causing the Pirate ship to bounce on the waves. “I can’t even remember why I’ve called you arses here with all the testicle talk.”

“Umm… you said we had a fucking problem,” I reminded my brother-in-law.

Pausing to gather his wits—or possibly grow some brain matter—Pirate Doug wrinkled his brow in concentration.

“Right!” he bellowed, startling us. “We have a Smacken issue—a big bad fucking Smacken issue.”

Everyone stayed silent mostly because we had no clue what the jackass was talking about.

Bonar raised his hand and waited to be called on.

“Yes?” Pirate Doug said.

“So ye mean we have to stop smacking each other?” he inquired politely.

“What?” Pirate Doug asked, now as confused as the rest of us.

“What in the motherhumpin’ seahorse is a Smacken?” I asked, getting straight to the point. We could be here for days if we had to decipher what the jackwad meant as opposed to what he actually said.

“Sweet shark in a leisure suit,” he yelled and stomped around the deck of his ship throwing a mini tantrum. “A Smacken is an enormous multi-legged, slimy, man eating, bulbous headed motherfucker that can multiply if it hits dry land. How do you idiots not know what a Smacken is?”

“You mean a Kraken?” I asked, trying not to laugh. Pirate Doug was an idiot of epic proportions, but he loved my sister and she loved him right back. We were stuck with him.

“That’s what I said,” he grunted with an enormous eye roll. “We have a Kraken problem.”

“But we killed the Kraken that attacked us six months ago,” Bony Velma pointed out.

“And apparently that’s the problem,” Pirate Doug explained. “The ugly bastards are pissed and plan to send an army of Flackens in retribution to destroy the Bermuda Triangle.”

“Krakens,” Tallulah corrected her mate.

“What?” Pirate Doug asked, perplexed.

“Nothing,” Tallulah replied. “So what do we do? Evacuate?”

“Nay, this is our island and we’re staying,” he replied and turned his attention to me for some bizarre reason. “I have reason to believe that there are Hacken Whisperers in the area.”

“Hacken Whisperers?” Bony Velma repeated. “What the hell are Hacken Whisperers?”

“I have no clue,” Pirate Doug said to his sister, but kept his eyes glued to me. “But my former cohort and outstanding drinking buddy, Pirate Sven the arsehole Crab Shifter says he knows of two imbeciles that can communicate with Yackens and other sea creatures.”

“Umm… why are you staring at me?” I asked. I mean I knew I had a clothespin on my nose, but so did everyone else except the Hags.

“Are you up for an adventure, Ariel?” he asked, squinting his eyes at me.

My stomach tingled and my eyes grew wide with excitement. I didn’t even care what the half-baked mission Pirate Doug had hatched in his pea brain was. The thrill of a dangerous escapade made me feel alive and worthwhile.

“I’ll do it,” I said with absolutely no knowledge as to what I’d just agreed to.

“Hold your clam shells,” Tallulah yelled. “What do you want Ariel to do? Is it dangerous?”

“Aye,” Pirate Doug said. “Potentially.”

“Why Ariel?” Tallulah demanded. “Why not one of the arses?”

“Why not me?” I snapped at my sister. I was tired of being thought of as the baby. I was a kick ass, deadly Mermaid and I wanted to get the heck off the island. I was the perfect choice. “You think I’m not capable?”

“Of what?” Tallulah shot right back. “You don’t even know what the plan is. This is a Pirate Doug plan. It could be a fucking disaster.”

“Was I just insulted?” Pirate Doug inquired.

“You were, sweetheart,” Tallulah confirmed and kissed his cheek.

“Roger that,” he said with a nod and a grin. “Just wanted to clarify.”

“I don’t care what redonkulous plan it is. I’m in and no one is going to stop me,” I announced.

“She’s a spicy hooker,” Bony Velma said with admiration. “I vote yes for Ariel.”

“Aye,” Bonar agreed. “Ariel is a thunderin’ bilge rat. Me thinks the wench is the right hooker for the job.”

“Thank you… I think,” I replied, unsure of what I’d just been called, but I didn’t care. Bonar was on my side even if he was a dumbass with missing fingers.

“Aye,” Thornycraft added his two cents—or one cent if you figured in his brain power capacity. “Ariel has the heart of an eyeliner wearin’ dinghy dangler. Scares the shite out of me. I vote yes for the blue haired swimming hooker.”

Upton simply nodded his head as his lips were still sealed shut.

“Before we send our baby sister off into the unknown, I’d like to know exactly what the unknown means,” Misty said, starring daggers at Pirate Doug. “If something happens to Ariel because you’re a gaping asscrack, I will make you rue the day you were hatched. You feel me?”

“Aye, I feel you. Pirate Sven says that the arses who can whisper to the Jacken are Selkies,” Pirate Doug explained. “We need to find the idiots.”

“So what?” Madison said. “Why does Ariel have to go? I don’t like it.”

“Well, I do like it,” I insisted, not wanting my sisters concern for me to destroy my chances of getting off the island and saving the day. “I’m doing it no matter what you guys think. Tell me the rest of the story, nardhole.”

“Is she talking to me?” Pirate Doug inquired.

“She is,” Tallulah said with a chuckle.

“Thought so,” he replied. “So when Tallulah was regaling me with stories about you hookers she mentioned that you’ve always liked the Selkies, Ariel.”

“Nope, I hate the Selkies,” I corrected him. Or to be more specific, I kind of hate-liked one Selkie in particular.

“Same difference,” Doug said, continuing. “The arsebucket, Sven, mentioned a name and it matched the name that Tallulah had shared. Sooooo… being the brilliant Vampire Pirate that I am, I added two and two together and gave the math problem to Upton who came up with five.”

“Not following,” I said, wincing at Pirate Doug’s idea of logic… and math.

“It means that there can’t be too many Selkies with the name Keith. As the legend goes, no two Selkies can have the same name. So since you most likely know the imbecile biblically, you are the one to find the arse and bring him back here to negotiate with the Gackens.”

My stomach lurched at the name Keith. He was the very bastard that still played a starring role in my pornographic dreams. The Selkie was also the assbucket who wanted me to do his laundry. Holy hell and seashells. The adventure was starting to sound fabulously horrifying.

“Is that true?” Bony Velma asked.

“That Ariel boinked the Selkie named Keith?” Pirate Doug asked.

“No, I figure that part is accurate being that all Mermaids are hookers,” Bony Velma replied. “How in Poseidon’s green hair do the Selkies not overlap names?”

“Me thinks they have a registry,” Thornycraft volunteered. “Hence the shite name Keith.”

“You’re a fine one to talk,” I said before I could stop myself from defending the idiot Selkie who asked me to do his farking laundry. “What kind of name is Thornycraft?”

“It be a common name of me kind,” he replied.

There was a long silence. I could clearly see everyone was tempted to push the issue and discover the secret. Not really having much of a filter and somewhat lacking in the self- preservation department, I went for it.

“And what would your kind be?” I asked, dying to know what the arse actually was.

“Far too much information for anyone to handle at this juncture. The nard licking was enough for today,” Pirate Doug cut in with a shudder. “So back to the matter at hand.”

He paused and scratched his head.

“What in Poseidon’s soused arse is the matter at hand?” Pirate Doug shouted, clearly having confused himself again.

“You want me to find that son of a bitch Selkie, Keith, castrate him, and then bring his sorry pathetic ass back to the island to negotiate with the Drakens so we still have an island to live on,” I replied in a single breath.

“Did I actually say that?” he asked, perplexed as he placed his hands firmly over his Johnson just in case I wanted a little practice before I dismembered the Selkie.

“You did,” I confirmed.

“Wait. What’s a Draken?” my brother-in-law demanded, eyeing me with confusion.

“I meant Kraken. My bad.”

“I should say so. Get your facts straight,” he replied with an eye roll. “So go find this Keith and drag his arse back here. However, for the sake of argument, let’s leave his bits out of the equation until we’ve solved the Zaken problem.”

“Fine. Where does he live?” I asked, deciding to ignore that Pirate Doug hadn’t gotten a fact straight since I’d known him.

“Near Sven,” Pirate Doug told me.

“And where does Sven live?”

“No clue,” he replied.

“Are you serious?” I asked annoyed.

“No, I’m Pirate Doug,” he replied.

We all mulled that one over in silence for a few minutes.

“Can you call Sven and ask his location?” Tallulah suggested, getting the conversation back on track.

“The old fart doesn’t have a cell phone. We usually communicate by messages in a bottle or homing pigeons. Takes months to get an answer from that ugly bastard,” Pirate Doug explained.

“Mmmkay,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “How exactly am I supposed to find the idiot Selkie then?”

“Fine question,” Pirate Doug said with a shrug.

Just when I was about to make my escape from the island it all fell apart in a split second. How could I have an adventure and castrate a Selkie if I couldn’t find him?

Wait… I had an idea. It was a shot in the dark, but it might just work.

Ask any tuna you happen to see… Who’s the smartest Mermaid? That would be me.

Maybe.

6

Keith

“That sucked,” I griped as I meticulously removed the last of the toilet paper from the enormous palm tree in the old Pirate’s yard.

“Like a big butt,” Kurt agreed as he plopped his tired ass down in the middle of the now pristine area.

While we were at it, we’d mowed the jackoff’s lawn and trimmed his bushes. I’d shaped the ones on the far left side of the property into a penis and testicles. It was hilarious. Kurt laughed so hard I had to pound on his back so he didn’t choke to death. Of course that led to an outstanding smack down. Our clothing was now ripped to shreds and we were both sporting black eyes and bloody lips. All in all it was a good time.

“You think he’ll feed us?” Kurt asked.

“As long as he doesn’t notice the dick in his yard, the chances are good,” I replied, sitting down next to my brother.

“I’ve been thinking,” Kurt said.

“Thinking is overrated,” I replied. “Do you think I should make a vagina out of the bushes on the right side of the yard for balance?”

“Umm… no. The dick is pushing it.”

“Fine point. Well made.”

We sat in silence as we pondered our next move.

“Dude, I’m not sure we have gifts,” Kurt whispered in a worried tone, picking apart a palm frond absently. “I mean, wouldn’t we have known by now? We’re over three hundred years old.”

While his observation was valid, I chose to ignore it. We were screwed at the moment, and if we didn’t have gifts we were screwed forever. Unacceptable.

“We’re great with the ladies,” I pointed out.

“Define great,” Kurt said. “As far as I can tell, we’re both still single.”

“Okay, fine. Give me a minute.”

What the hell were we good at? I was good at fighting. I could kick some major ass and so could Kurt. However, all Selkies were warriors. That didn’t make us special.

“We eat a lot,” I volunteered.

My brother said nothing.

“We’re well versed in Aquaman pop culture.”

Again… nothing.

“We can talk to fish and other sea creatures and actually understand what the freaks are saying,” I whispered.

“Don’t say that out loud. Makes us sound like weirdos,” Kurt whispered back and flicked me in the head. “It’s hard enough to explain to everyone that we’re vegetarians. We’ll never get laid if the ladies think we can talk to fucking fish.”

“Again—fine point, well made. Look, Poseidon told Mom that we had gifts. I’m banking on that and hoping the green-haired bastard wasn’t completely wasted when he shared that info. You feel me?” I said, trying to sound positive while getting a quick gut punch in on my brother.

“I guess,” Kurt said without a shred of enthusiasm as he caught his breath.

“The jacknard Pirate Crab said he knew what our gift was. So that stands to reason that we definitely have gifts—or at least a gift.”

“So what do we do?” Kurt asked.

“We gotta talk to the Pirate—again,” I replied with a small shudder.

“Shite.”

“Yep.”

* * *

“Thars a dick in me yard,” Sven roared, examining the phallic topiary with great displeasure.

“I have no idea how that happened,” I said, making no eye contact whatsoever. I stared at the leafy man tool and nards in complete and utter shock hoping it made my bullshit story more plausible. “It must have been Kurt.”

“That’s it,” Kurt grunted as he jumped me from behind and began to choke me. “That’s the last time you blame me for your shite.”

“Just go with it,” I snarled as I flipped my brother over my head and slammed him down on his back. “I’m trying to get us some food.”

“You know what?” Kurt shouted as he landed an excellent left hook to my chest, making it hard to breathe. “Mom was right. You’re an idiot.”

“Umm, pretty sure you have a hearing problem,” I informed him as I did a backflip and scissor kicked his head. “She said we’re both idiots.”

“Maybe we are,” Kurt said as he froze with his fist high in the air. “Wait. Are we?”

I stood ready to kick his legs out from underneath him, but paused. “Not sure.”

“I can confirm it for ye,” Pirate Sven said, shaking his head in disgust. “Yarr both eejits. Yarr mum was correct.”

“That’s kind of mean,” I muttered under my breath. Even if he was right, he didn’t need to rub it in. We’d been deserted by our parents and picked toilet paper out of trees for most of the day. I was feeling a little delicate at the moment.

“So what are yarr tar stains gonna do about it?” Pirate Sven.

“Umm…” I said, not sure what answer the Pirate was looking for.

If I answered wrong we might have to do more yard work. If I answered correctly, the gnarly bastard might feed us. Shite. Thinking wasn’t my forte.

“What would Aquaman do?” Kurt whispered to me.

There was a fine reason that when we fought I never killed my brother. His brilliance when we were backed into a corner was one of those reasons.

“We’re going to swim through the water like speeding fucking bullets and then lay on our backs make angels in the sand,” I told Pirate Sven.

“Nope,” he said and rolled his beady crab eyes. “Try again.”

“How about we balance out the yard and make a lady bits bush out of the bushes on the right side?” I suggested.

The left hook to my head from my brother confirmed that the lady bits bush offer was a bad one. Shite on a sharp seashell. This was difficult.

“Okay,” I said, wondering again if there was a right answer at all. “How about we’re not gonna be idiots anymore?”

The Pirate grinned—and I heaved a giant sigh of relief. The grin was pretty fucking scary, but being correct felt damned good.

“And how are ye going to do that?” Pirate Sven inquired.

Dang it, the chances of me being correct twice in a row were slim…

“No clue. However, some sustenance might help clear my brain,” I told him, going for avoidance and hoping for a small snack at the very least.

“Aye,” Pirate Sven said. “I’ll feed ye tar stains, but ye have a few more chores before supper. Go home and gather ye dirty clothes. We’ll be havin’ lobster for our evenin’ meal.”

The enormous Crab Shifter turned on his heel of his boot and slammed the front door leaving Kurt and me shocked to silence. A rare occurrence indeed, but right now we were in a pickle.

“Is the Crab gonna do our laundry?” Kurt inquired rocking back and forth on his feet in a slight panic, studiously ignoring the real problem.

“Doubtful,” I mumbled as I paced the lawn and tried to figure out what in Poseidon’s drunk ass we should do next.

“Maybe Lisa Bonet is here and she’s doing laundry,” Kurt added, lamely. “Or maybe not.”

“I’m gonna go with not,” I shot back, running my hands through my hair and wondering how hard Sven punched. “This is bad. It’s really bad.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Kurt said and began to pace behind me. “What are we going to do?”

“There’s only one thing to do,” I told him.

“It’s too dangerous,” Kurt choked out. “Maybe we just let it go and never come back here again.”

“Do you hear yourself, man?” I shouted, shaking my brother and then kneeing him in the nards. “The Crab knows our gift—we don’t. We have to play his game or we’re screwed. But now we’re talking murder here. I can’t have the blood of an innocent on my head.”

“True,” Kurt agreed in a high-pitched squeal as he rolled around the yard cupping his nuts. “How can we save them?”

“It’ll be tricky. The Crab Pirate is fucking huge, I don’t know the layout of his house and I have no clue how many are trapped inside,” I replied.

“I believe in you,” Kurt said, limping over and putting his hand on my shoulder. “Do you want me to help or go get our dirty grundies?”

I paused and considered for a long moment. The fact that my brother would stand behind me in a sure death situation made me love him even more. However, I would never admit that sentiment out loud. It was girly to share feelings. I was all man. And I was probably about to be a dead man but that was the price I would have to pay.

“No, this is a one Selkie job. If I die, go find Mom and Dad and make them feel guilty—really, really, really guilty. You feel me?”

“I feel you,” Kurt said solemnly, still nursing his balls. “You’re my hero. You’re my Aquaman.”

As my eyes welled with emotional tears, I punched Kurt in the head so he wouldn’t notice. “Get the laundry, turd knocker. I’m going in to free the innocent lobsters. Wish me luck.”

“May Aquaman be with you every step of the way. And if you perish, I’ll trim all the bastard’s bushes into erect body parts before I depart to guilt the shit out of our parents for deserting us and causing your untimely death. I love you, Keith.”

“That’s kind of a weenie thing to say at a time like this,” I pointed out.

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed with a shrug and a grin. “But no one can hear us, so I figured it was cool, assdonk.”

Nodding, I glanced around to make sure the coast was clear and then quickly hugged my brother. After a brief and awkward man hug, we beat the heck out of each other for two minutes to negate the fact that we’d touched each other in affection. We were now bloody and bruised. It was right and I felt at peace. If I died today while freeing dinner, my brother would know I loved him and I was fairly sure I’d just broken his nose. The only thing missing in my life was the blue haired Mermaid that wanted to lop my Johnson off. Whatever, I had to work with what I had…

All was pretty good with my world.

“Go quickly, dongbucket” I instructed. “I might need you as backup once I break the lobsters out. Depending on how many hostages there are it might be a clusterhump getting them back to the ocean. Plus those little bastards pinch.”

“I’m on it,” Kurt said as he limped away, nursing his bleeding nose and his aching balls. “You’ve got this, bro.”

“Yep,” I replied with far more confidence than I felt.

It was beginning to seriously suck being able to communicate with all the creatures of the sea. It was so much easier to sleep till noon and ignore my unwanted, pain in my ass freaky talent. Our parents knew not to cook fish or crustaceans. Life was uncomplicated… and kind of boring if I was being truthful.

Shite. Wait a freakin’ waterlogged second… was that why I’d stayed in my parent’s basement for three hundred years? To get away from having to save the swimming world? To be safe? To be bored?

Conundrums gave me headaches. I’d think about that later… or possibly never.

I had some fucking lobsters to save.

May Poseidon’s hairy green ass be with me.

7

Ariel

“It’s worth a shot, guys. We don’t have a lot of options here,” I said, pleading my case. “Let me go talk to them.”

My sisters and friends were quiet as we strolled the white sandy shore and mulled our conundrum. The late afternoon sun made the teal blue ocean appear as if it was filled with glittering diamonds. Even the Sea Hags didn’t smell quite as bad as usual. The salty air calmed my frayed nerves, but I longed to let my tail come out and play so I could take a swim in the cool crystal waters. However, we still had a large problem to solve. Frolicking would have to wait.

As I waited for some feedback, I made a list in my head. All I really needed was a location, I’d pull the rest out of my butt as I went along. That was how I liked to roll. I was getting off this island come hell or high tide. Yes. It was gorgeous. Yes. All the people I loved were here. Yes. It was my home. But if I didn’t find the idiots who could negotiate with the Krakens, there would be no island left to call home.

And far be it from me to admit that the thought of seeing that asswipe Keith again made me all shivery inside. Gods, I really needed to make an appointment for a thorough mental examination.

“Dudette, the minute we tell them we have a Kraken issue, they’re out of here,” Madison pointed out. “That’s a million smackaroos down the toilet.”

“So be it,” Tallulah said with a sigh. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“You never know,” Pirate Doug chimed in. “Selkies are freaks. The weirdos just voluntarily relocated to an island full of vicious, colorful, swimming hookers. They might enjoy a violent Braken attack.”

Closing my eyes, I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. It would be bad form to castrate the dolt especially since he was making my sister very happy in the nookie department, but there was no way in Poseidon’s Seven Seas he was getting away with that crappy comment.

“Can I please zap him?” I begged Tallulah.

“Yep. Be my guest.”

Raising my hands to the sky, I grinned as Pirate Doug screamed and took off at a sprint followed by his crew of arses. They were fast, but I was faster. Releasing a glittering blast of crystal blue magic, I aimed right for his ass and the asses of his idiot arses. Bullseye.

“That was mean, Ariel, ya blue-haired wench,” Pirate Doug shrieked over his shoulder as he hightailed it to the ocean to put out the magical butt fire. “What in Poseidon’s underpants did I say wrong? Mermaids are insane.”

“He’s a dumbass, but he’s my dumbass,” Tallulah said with a shake of her head. “You ready to greet our new inhabitants?”

“You mean scare the whiskers off of them?” I asked.

“Well, that too,” Tallulah said with a laugh.

* * *

“Sweet Mother of Pearl on fire in Hell, could you please repeat that?” the male Selkie named Kenny shouted, looking as if he was going to pass out while glancing around wildly.

The female, Kate, also seemed perturbed and had paled considerably. “I’m not following this conversation. You mean they’re here? I thought we’d covered our tracks far better than that. This is impossible,” she said, fanning the air frantically and breathing through her mouth.

Remembering my manners, I snapped my fingers and conjured up two clothespins for our new arrivals. The Hag stench was brutal and this was not the finest way to greet our newest neighbors.

“Thank you,” Kate gagged out and immediately plugged her nose. Her mate Kenny was quick to follow.

The Selkie couple was very attractive and extremely wary—or maybe terrified would be a more accurate description. I suppose it would be alarming for anyone if four Mermaids, four Pirates with large holes singed through the backside of their breeches and two smelly Sea Hags showed up on their front porch the first day they’d moved in, but we were in trouble. Hopefully the bizarre Selkies would be the key to our success.

My plan had been for me to go to them alone, but I was voted down. It was all my idea to talk to the Selkies who’d just paid a cool million to live on our island. I was quite sure they were regretting that move right now if the expressions on their faces were anything to go by. But if it was true that no two Selkies had the same name, there was a distinct possibility that they may have heard of Keith and the other Selkie who could communicate with Krakens.

Even though we arrived en masse, I was taking the lead.

Glancing over at Tallulah, my sister nodded her head. The poor horrified Selkies needed a way out. I just hoped they could help us before they hauled ass to another island.

“Look, Kenny and Kate,” I said, keeping my movement slow and steady. They were the jumpiest Selkies I’d ever come across. “We’re willing to completely refund your money—all of it. The Mystical Isle is about to be a shitshow. Some pissed off Krakens are headed this way to seek retribution. We’re just hoping you might be able to enlighten us to the whereabouts of the Kraken Whisperers before you relocate to another island.”

“The what?” Kenny asked, squinting at me in confusion.

“The two Selkies that can help us save our island—the Kraken Whisperers,” I explained as Kenny’s grin of disbelief grew wider.

“And you think Keith and Kurt are your heroes?” he demanded, elbowing his mate and doing his best to swallow back his hysterics. “They’re imbeciles—lazy, good for nothing moochers who destroy property and eat people out of house and home. Losers.”

“That’s kind of rude,” I snapped. I mean I agreed, but I had a right to. Keith had asked me to do his laundry in the middle of the best boink of my very long life. Of course I had no clue who Kurt was, but if he was anything like Keith, he was an assknob. However, I didn’t like ol’ Kenny’s attitude.

“I’m just getting started,” Kenny said as his mate gave him a look that should have been his cue to shut his cakehole. “Those boys are menaces to society—total wastes of space. You’d better start searching elsewhere if you need a hero.”

“Kenny,” Kate hissed and zapped him with an electrical current of silver magic that made his squeak like a girl. “Enough.”

“So you know them?” I asked, stepping back just in case Kate was keen on handing out punishments.

“Possibly,” Kate admitted wearily. “However, as obnoxious as my mate is behaving, he’s correct. Keith and Kurt are not heroes—more like overgrown children.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered with an eye roll.

“You know Keith and Kurt?” Kate inquired with interest.

“I kind of know Keith,” I said, staying vague and avoiding eye contact.

“Aye,” Pirate Doug chimed in, pointing at me and grinning from ear to ear. “Ariel boinked the one called Keith. Pretty sure she still likes him.”

“Shut up, you butthole,” I hissed. “That is unnecessary information. Suffice it to say, I’ve met Keith. He’s a jackwad and I’ll be castrating him after he whispers to the Flackens.”

“Krakens,” Pirate Doug corrected me.

I wanted to decapitate my brother-in-law, but he was actually correct for the first time in… umm… forever.

“Right. Krakens. My bad. Keith’s still an ass though.”

Kate and Kenny exchanged looks and then slow grins spread across both of their pretty faces. I didn’t like it one little bit. Something was going very wrong here.

“So you like Keith?” Kate asked looking so hopeful I almost felt sorry for her.

“Umm… nope,” I replied, wondering about her sanity. “Hate his guts.”

Kenny shrugged. “Fine line between love and hate. If I’m recalling correctly, you hated my guts for about a hundred years before I convinced you to be my mate,” he said to Kate.

“Two hundred,” Kate corrected him, with her eyes still on me. “You’re unmated?”

“That’s none of your business,” I told her. She was nuts. What was happening here?

“Aye,” Pirate Doug informed the Selkies. “Ariel is as scary as a blue-haired, bandana-wearing platoon splinter. Finding that wench a mate is gonna be a peg-legged bow bungler on a tricorn-sportin’ stern fowler.”

“I didn’t understand a word of that,” Kate muttered, perplexed.

“No one did,” I cut in before Pirate Doug could translate and reveal more of my private life to the strange couple. “He was dropped on his head as a child—regularly. All I want to know is the location of Keith and Kurt.”

“Will you kick their asses?” Kenny asked with a raised brow.

“And if I do?” I shot back.

“I’ll pay you,” he replied. “How much would you like?”

“Kenny,” Kate grumbled in a warning voice and zapped him again. “We might know where they are, but it will cost you.”

“How much?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at them.

They had some freakin’ nerve. Pirate Doug had been correct about Selkies being weirdos.

“Not a cent… in money,” Kate said, looking me up and down.

“Not following,” I replied warily. Was the Selkie hitting on me? That was all kinds of bizarre and every kind of uncomfortable. She was mated, for the love of Poseidon’s sobriety or lack thereof.

“We will tell you where to find Keith and Kurt if you agree to kiss Keith,” she replied.

I was stunned to shocked silence as was the rest of my group. This Selkie was blackmailing me into kissing a nard? Why? What was in it for her?

“Are you serious?” I shouted.

“No, she’s Kate the strange fucking Selkie,” Pirate Doug volunteered.

Once again Pirate Doug was correct. Kate and Kenny were whacko.

“No can do,” I snapped. “I already boinked Keith as my brainless brother-in-law unhelpfully pointed out. And do you want to know what he did?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest and giving Kate the evil eye ball.

“Not really,” Kate replied with a wince.

“He asked me if I would do his laundry right in the middle of it,” I shouted, ignoring her request. “What kind of dumbass does that? And why in the Chicken of the Sea would you want me to kiss him?”

“You’re rude, gorgeous, wonderfully fashion forward and you have a tremendous set of balls,” Kate said.

“Thank you,” I replied. There was no reason not to be polite when complimented.

“I like you,” Kenny added.

“You don’t even know me,” I told him, exasperated. “Are you two right in the head?”

“Absolutely not,” Kate confirmed. “However, you don’t seem exceptionally sound of mind either.”

“Aye,” Pirate Doug agreed. “Nutty as a galley-hoppin’ arthritic octopus.”

“Pie hole,” Tallulah snapped at her mate. “Shut it or the Johnson will pay.”

Making the international zip the lip sign, Pirate Doug grinned and conjured up a solid steel pecker protector.

Crap. The Selkies were correct about me not being quite right in the head.

Of course, I had no clue what Pirate Doug had just said, but sadly it was probably true as well. None of us were entirely sane. I mean, how could anyone who had lived for hundreds of years be completely stable? However, on a scale of one-to-crazy, the Selkies were much closer to crazy than I was.

“I’m still not clear why kissing Keith is a requirement,” I said, trying to sound reasonable even though I wanted to hurl a deadly glitter fish bomb at our new neighbors’ heads.

I was this close to blasting the Selkies with magic bolt that they would never forget. Only the thought of the Krakens destroying everything we’d built stopped me from zapping Kate and Kenny bald and adding a few extra flippers. Plus, the idea of kissing the idiot was secretly thrilling.

“The requirement stands,” Kate replied. “I’ll say no more. The choice is yours, Mermaid Ariel.”

Glancing over at my sisters, I shrugged. Kissing the dummy would be very dangerous. If a Mermaid kissed their true love—which clearly Keith wasn’t mine—the kiss-ee would be automatically bonded to the Mermaid. But since I didn’t like him—at all—a kiss should be no problem. Besides, if he had to work with the Krakens, he’d have to come to the Mystical Isle and my sisters would have my back.

I knew I could handle kissing the best kisser in the world mentally. But emotionally? Well… that might be another story.

Whatever.

I was a big girl and Keith was just an idiot boy with a great bod and mad skills in the sack.

Not a problem.

Without consulting my smirking sisters, I looked Kate in the eye and raised my brow. “You win,” I said. “I can’t guarantee his safety, but I’ll kiss him as long as the jackoff comes through with the Krakens. I mean, the assgap is great in the sack even if he has the mentality of a ten year old. He’s definitely pretty to look at, but I’m guessing he was raised by sea slugs or something even worse.”

Kate’s quick intake of breath was odd, but then again she was quite peculiar. “You won’t kill him, will you?” she asked worriedly.

“Maim him definitely,” Kenny insisted. “The boy heals up fast. You can even remove an appendage if you feel like it.”

“Kenny, shut it,” Kate warned. “It’s fine if you rough him up a little, but please don’t kill him.”

“Why do you care?” I snapped. “What is he to you?”

She paused for so long, I felt like we were in a cheesy Lifetime movie—the kind I secretly loved. Her hesitation was so weighted we were all leaning forward to hear what she was about to say. And that’s when I started to feel a little nauseous.

Wait a sea-faring second… The more I stared at Kenny and Kate the more my stomach cramped.

This. Could. Not. Be. Happening.

Kenny’s nose…

Kate’s icy blue eyes…

Kenny’s height…

Kate’s dimples…

Kenny’s blonde hair…

Motherhumpin’ Chicken of the Sea. Quickly, I mentally went back over the conversation to figure out exactly what I’d said. Crap on a clamshell. If Kate was about to say what I was pretty sure she was gonna say, I wanted to burry my head in the sand for a century or three.

Maybe I was incorrect.

“Keith and Kurt are our sons,” she announced.

And maybe not.

“Holy shit,” I shouted, right before I hit the sand and passed out in mortification.

If it ever worked out with Keith—which it wouldn’t because he was a nard—I’d started out on a really bad foot with the in-laws.

A really, really, really big bad foot.

8

Keith

“Seriously?” I muttered with a grin of surprise, quietly shimmying through the open window.

The Crab really could use a good security system. I was able to slip in through the bedroom window on the first floor with ease—too much ease for my peace of mind… or lack thereof. Was the grizzly haired bastard expecting me? Nah. He was probably watching freakin’ Waterworld for the umpteenth time if his room décor was anything to go by.

Pirate Sven’s sleeping quarters were done entirely in a Waterworld theme with a five foot by six foot headshot of Kevin Costner in a place of honor on the wall. This dude had the shittiest taste I’d ever witnessed. I would not want to sleep with Kevin Fucking Costner staring at me. It was creepy.

Posters and still shots from the film littered the walls and little plastic characters from the movie—for lack of a more fitting word—were arranged in battle scenes all over the enormous dresser. Not a spec of dirt anywhere. How was that even possible? Did the Crab have a dusting fetish?

“Poseidon’s hairy balls,” I mumbled, staying low. “The Pirate Crab is freakin’ neat.”

What the hell was with the spotless room? He was a Pirate. I thought all Pirates were disgusting.

Making sure the coast was clear, I belly-crawled across the carefully raked carpet. Who in the heck raked their carpet? It was so clean it made me itchy. Whatever, I was on a mission and nothing short of my own death would stop me.

Why?

I had no fucking clue. It was some horrid compulsion I had to save the dumbass sea creatures—a real buzz kill, but I’d quit questioning it about two hundred years ago. It was what it was. Kurt had the same affliction. Bizarrely, it made me feel good to save lives—kind of like Aquaman. It took almost a century for our parents to realize we’d been setting dinner free for our entire lives. Initially we were sent to therapy where we were diagnosed as vegetarians. Thankfully we’d never let on that we could talk to the fucking fishies. Our disease was bad enough as it was.

Wedging myself into a spotless corner of Pirate Sven’s bedroom, I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer to Poseidon that today wasn’t going to be my last. Letting my mind wander, I zoned in on the hostages. There were six.

Damn it, Sven must be really hungry.

“Hello? Is anybody in there?” I asked letting my thoughts float out to the lobsters.

“Pink Floyd is dat you?”

“Pink who?” I asked confused. Was the lobster being tortured?

“Okay… lemma try again. Roger Waters?” the lobster asked.

“Dude, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, youse is singing Comfortably Numb. I figured youse was Pink Floyd,” the male voice responded.

“First of all, I wasn’t singing, dongwhistle. Secondly, the only thing numb is your brain and soon to be your nuts if you get boiled, jackwadhole,” I replied.

“I only know two sumbitches with mouths like dat. Don’t sound like Kurt. Is dat you, Keith?” a voice asked frantically.

“Yep. Don Guido?”

“Thank Poseidon’s hairy ball sack. Yep it’s me, Don Guido,” he answered with relief in his voice. “It’s gettin’ a little hot in here.”

Don Guido and I went back about 50 years. He was an idiot, but well versed in American TV and film pop culture—a useless talent I found impressive. The lobster was amusing. He was full of shit most of the time, but made a killer spinach and dried cranberry salad with feta cheese and could drink me under the table—not an easy task since it was difficult for a Selkie to tie one on.

He was known in the ocean world as Don Guido. Of course he’d given himself that title due to his Marlon Brando obsession. He wasn’t a Don by any stretch of the imagination. He was a scrawny little crustacean, with a wandering eye and a tremendous amount of manwhore tendencies—also more of a pacifist than a fighter. Although, to be fair, his taste in violent Mafia movies was truly outstanding. Don Guido was my go to lobster when I was in the mood for some bloody shoot-em-ups on the screen.

“My Gods, man, are you already in the pot?”

“No. Not yet,” Don Guido told me with a terrified shriek.

“Is the Pirate steaming you?”

“No. My wife is trying to decapitate me—or possibly castrate me. I’m a little unclear at the moment.”

“Not following.”

“The Pirate got me. He got me, my fifth wife —Stella, my current mistress— Carmella, and three of my kids from my first marriage—Sonny, Fredo and Vito. It’s like the bloody horse head in the bed, but way fuckin’ worse.”

“You watch entirely too many movies,” I said, ignoring the fact that I did as well. Don Guido clearly named his kids for the Godfather. However, he probably should have gone with other character names considering the fates of those he’d chosen.

“Pot, kettle, black,” Don Guido shot back. “Youse can recite all the Aquaman cartoons ever made. And I’d bet my soon to be severed balls dat youse is gonna name your first son Jason Momoa.”

The lobster’s statement gave me pause. It was an excellent idea… The thought of a tiny Jason Momoa that looked like me was delightful. Of course, I had to find a mate to accomplish that. The only one I wanted didn’t want me—crazy, but true. I mean, really…I was a great catch.

So much to do and so little time…

First things first. Save the lobsters.

“So I’m guessing that the wife doesn’t know about the mistress?”

“She does now,” Don Guido shouted. “Youse gotta save me. Stella’s got pinchers like razorblades.”

“Dude, you need to keep your pecker in your shell. I’m here to save all of you. If you die after the fact, that’s on you.”

This was certainly a shitshow. Lobsters were doinkbrains. Don Guido was most likely going to bite it today at the claws of his fifth wife who was pissed off about the side gal-pal. I liked the dumbass mouthy bastard, but he was a randy little shit. I’d save him from the pot of boiling water, but after that the manwhore was on his own.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he whined. “Just save us. I’ll make it up to my wife.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” he yelled. “I’ll talk to Manny and get some fucking pearls.”

“Manny’s still hawking pearls?” I asked, shocked.

Manny was a slimy eel with sticky fingers. He’d been fencing pearls for years until the oysters got wind of it and tied Manny into a knot that took him three years to get out of. No one fucked with the oysters. Those lumpy shelled asses were crazy.

“Yep. Dat eel has a death wish,” Don Guido said with a chuckle.

“Sounds like someone else I know,” I shot back.

“Touché,” Don Guido moaned.

“Give me the lay out. Where are you? And what’s the Pirate doing?”

“We’re in a bucket in the kitchen—nice bucket—very clean. Hang on a sec,” Don Guido muttered and then grunted. “Had to take a peek. I think he’s watching Waterworld and eating grapes, hummus and kale chips.”

“That’s pretty dang weird for a carnivore,” I said while my mouth watered.

“That’s some girly food he’s eating,” Don Guido commented.

“Shut your pie hole, lobsterdick. Hummus is not girly,” I snapped.

“Whoops. My bad. But I’m going on record that kale chips are girly.”

“You want me to save your sorry ass?” I hissed. “You take that back about kale chips right now. They’re healthy and delicious. And just to be one step ahead of your waterlogged pea brain, grapes are not girly either. You feel me, cheeseballs?”

“I feel youse,” Don Guido said quickly. “My apologies. Can youse just hurry up here? Stella already removed Carmella’s left claw. It’s gettin’ ugly in the bucket.”

“Hang tight and be ready to run,” I instructed. “I’m making my move.”

What was my move?

No clue.

I was going to yank it out of my ass. It was how I liked to roll.

* * *

Deciding to use the front door, I climbed back out of the window. However, before I left I quickly rearranged all the action figures on the spotless dresser. It would drive Pirate Sven nuts. I really wished I could see the old bastard’s face when he discovered Kevin Costner running like a scared weenie from a mob of women. I also grabbed a green marker drew a stash and some zits on the giant Costner face on the wall. I couldn’t help myself. It was completely satisfying and I was sure I’d live to regret it—that is, if I survived the next twenty minutes. And if I did live, I could blame the vandalism on Kurt before he got back with our dirty underpants. Good plan.

“Knock, smile and then yank a strategy from your ass,” I said to myself as I slowly ascended the steps of the Pirate’s porch. Shite, even the steps were pristine.

Wait a freakin’ minute… A delighted and slightly devious grin pulled at my lips. This might just be easier than I’d thought.

Knocking, I quickly backed away from the door. The assknob might come out swinging. I was pretty sure he was still mad about the dick in his yard.

“Who is it?” he shouted.

“It’s me, Keith,” I shouted back.

“Ye mean, Tar Stain?” he challenged without opening the door.

Closing my eyes and trying to suppress the enormous urge to call him a rectum wagon, I swallowed my pride. There were innocent lobsters in that house. I’d call the neat-nick Pirate all sorts of names after dinner was happily swimming back in the ocean.

“Yesssssss,” I hissed and rolled my eyes. “It’s Tar Stain. I need to take a whizz. Open up.”

“Ye can whizz on the phallic topiary outside, ya blunderin’ swamp rat,” he bellowed.

The Pirate was a lame murdering dookie wad with no manners at all. Fine. No worries. I would simply channel Aquaman and beat the Crab at his little game.

“Okay,” I yelled in my best Jason Momoa voice. “But just so you know, Selkie peepee is very concentrated. Pretty sure I’ll kill everything in your yard. Or maybe I’ll write you a note in the grass. You know… something like Pirate Sven is a mean ass Crab shifter and a crunchy booger binkie.”

“What in Poseidon’s Seven Seas does that even mean?” he bellowed.

“I have no idea, but it sounds bad,” I replied. Kurt might be the insult master, but I was no slouch.

“Are ye right in the head?” Pirate Sven asked as he opened the door and stared at me.

“No. Are you?” I inquired, trying to peek past him and spot the bucket.

“Not at all,” he admitted. “However, ye have a way with words—granted it’s disgusting in a ten year old boy sorta way, but ye are growing on me. Like a fungus, that is.”

“Thank you.”

“Wasn’t a compliment, Tar Stain,” he informed me as he moved to the right to grant me entry. “Do yerr business and then ye can watch Waterworld with me. Where’s the other Tar Stain?”

“Kurt went to get our laundry that you’ve so kindly offered to do,” I told him, quickly casing the house. Dang, if the whole place wasn’t totally immaculate.

The Crab’s laughter was loud and made me think he had no plans to do our laundry. So be it. I probably wouldn’t be alive to wear clean clothes anyway… or maybe I would.

The bucket was in the kitchen next to the table. No pot was on the stove and the counters were empty save a bunch of bananas and a bowl of apples. Odd. He certainly didn’t seem prepared to cook my friends.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” I said.

“Aye,” the Pirate replied. “The head is down the hall and on the left. If ye dribble on the seat ye will be licking it up.”

“Dude, that’s gross,” I gagged out.

“No more gross than me going into to bust a grumpy and sitting in yerr peepee,” he announced, making a fine point.

The time was now. It was do or die. Or do and die. Breathing in through my mouth and out slowly through my nose, I gasped and jumped up on the couch.

“Sweet Poseidon in a thong paired with black socks and sandals,” I shouted in terror as I pointed down the long hallway facing away from the kitchen. “Is that a dust bunny I see?”

“Nay, it can’t be,” Pirate Sven squealed, appalled as he looked down the hallway in shock. “Thar be no dust bunnies in me house.”

“It is,” I said with a shudder and then looked away in horror for effect. “It’s a big one and might be multiplying. It’s fucking awful.”

“I’m on it,” Pirate Sven shrieked like a girl as he yanked open the front hallway closet and grabbed a vacuum, a broom, a feather duster, a can of spray, a rake and a sword. “Watch out, Tar Stain. This could get ugly.”

“Can I ask a question?” I inquired.

I knew I had a job to do, but…

“Aye, but make it fast. Them dust bunnies are evil. They multiply like Mormons.”

“Why the sword?”

“So I can behead meself for having a dirty house,” he replied as if what he said was even remotely logical.

“Umm… hang on a second,” I said, not as sure of my plan anymore. If the Pirate chopped his head off, it would be my fault for lying. Shite. I couldn’t let the lobsters die either. Although, for all I knew Don Guido was already a goner.

“Ain’t got time fer yerr blubberin’, Tar Stain. I just want to thank ye fer seeing the dirty varmits.”

“Dude,” I said, reaching for the sword. “You’re taking the Mormon dust bunnies a little seriously.”

“Help me!” Don Guido shrieked inside my head. “She’s got my balls.”

“Well, you know what?” I shouted, forgetting Pirate Sven couldn’t hear Don Guido. “Maybe you don’t deserve your nards. Have you ever considered that?”

“Wait. What?” Pirate Sven asked, narrowing his beady eyes at me. “Ye think I should chop off me nards because of the Mormons?”

“NO,” I shouted, grabbing the sword and throwing it across the room. “Keep your nards. I was talking to myself.”

“Ye don’t deserve yerr own nards?” he asked, now completely confused.

He wasn’t the only one. I was sweating. Selkies didn’t sweat.

“Let’s leave my nards out of this,” I said as calmly as I could. Clearly pulling plans out of my ass was a bad idea. I hoped he didn’t take me for my word and make me remove my balls.

“She’s got a ball,” Don Guido screamed. “I repeat. Stella has a ball.”

“Look, Tar Stain, if ye got something pertinent to say, say it now. I got some bunnies to kill.”

“My Gods, man. Carmella has joined up with Stella. It’s a bloodbath. My balls are goners,” Don Guido screeched.

I was now bent over in phantom pain for Don Guido’s nuts and still terrified that Pirate Sven was going to remove one of his appendages because of the Mormon dust bunnies that weren’t actually there. If I ever saw my parents again, I was going to headbutt them. None of this would be happening if they hadn’t deserted us.

“Carmella and Stella, if you remove Don Guido’s balls, I will let the Pirate cook you. You feel me?” I shouted. Sprinting across the room, I grabbed the sword and stood over the bucket with it aimed at the creatures I was supposed to save. “Don Guido, I hope this is a good lesson for you and your pecker if you still have one. And Pirate Sven, you douchenozzle, if you so much as scratch yourself while killing the Mormons, I will peepee all over your toilet seat and then smear that delicious looking hummus all over your walls and crunch the kale chips that I want to eat into your carpet. I’ve had about all the shite I can take today and I’m about to blow.”

“Who are ye talking to, Tar Stain?” Pirate Sven inquired so calmly, I was sure I was about to die.

“Umm… no one,” I replied.

“Coulda fooled me, ya eejit,” he said, putting the cleaning apparatuses back into the closet and seating himself on his couch. “Ye wanna tell me about it?”

“No?”

“Wrong answer,” he said. “Are ye talking to the lobsters?”

Rolling my eyes, I laughed. “Of course not. That’s ridiculous. Talking to crustaceans? What kind of dorktowel can talk to fish?”

“I let ye have some homemade kale chips if ye come clean with me, Tar Stain,” Pirate Sven said as he held the bowl out to me.

“Homemade?” I asked, eyeing the green chips with longing.

“Aye,” he replied. “Who are ye talking to?”

“They’re gone,” Don Guido yelled in a pitch much higher than earlier. “My testes are toast.”

“Hold that thought,” I told the Crab.

Grabbing the now soprano lobster from the bucket, I gently put him in the sink. I wasn’t sure if Don Guido could regrow his nuts as he wasn’t a shifter. My ball-less buddy was just a regular sea creature. Maybe I could use a little magic on him, but if I had to touch his nards it was a no go.

“Thank you,” Don Guido said sounding more like a Gina than a Guido at this point.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, not bothering to talk to him in my head.

The Pirate had already heard me. The jig was up.

“You’re going to think I’m insane,” I said, turning back to the Crab.

“Already do,” he replied. “Only an assjacket would have trimmed me bushes into a dong.”

“Fine point. Well made.”

“If ye want to know yer gift, I’d suggest ye start yappin’, Tar Stain.”

“You’ll tell me my gift if I tell you the truth?”

“Aye.”

“Fine,” I said, shaking my head and wondering if Aquaman would give up his secrets for some homemade kale chips. “Are the chips salted?”

“Do weevil eatin’, rum swiggin’ sea serpents have greasy hair?” Pirate Sven demanded.

“Umm… yes?” I guessed, having no fucking idea what the Crab had just said.

“Aye,” he said with a chuckle. “The chips are salted—sea salt.”

“Okay. Well… umm… You captured Don Guido, his fifth wife, his mistress and three of his sons. It was a shitshow in there since Stella—fifth wife—didn’t know about Carmella—the mistress. Pretty sure Don Guido lost his balls in that bucket,” I explained as the Pirate simply stared at me. “I know. I know it sounds fucked up, but even if you have a go at me, I’m going to return my nutless friend and his dysfunctional family to the sea. I have to. It’s a sick compulsion which you should understand on account of your obsession with Mormon dust bunnies.”

“Aye.” Pirate Sven nodded and then glanced over at the sink. “Is his pecker intact?”

“You believe me?”

“Aye. I do. Still think yarr a tar stain, but I believe ye.”

“You’re not going to kill me for freeing dinner?”

“Nay. I might behead ye fer something else, but not fer that,” he said with a grin as he handed me the bowl of kale chips.

They were delicious. I really needed to find a cook, preferably someone I could boink as well. I’d definitely get this recipe from the Crab.

“So what’s my gift?” I asked, shoving the chips into my mouth.

“Ye already know it,” he replied, wincing at my lack of manners.

I was starving. I hadn’t eaten in hours. What did he expect? And what the sand covered hell? Was he going back on his word?

“What do you mean I already know my gift?” I demanded, licking the crumbs from the bowl and then handing it back to him.

“Ye just told me yarr gift, ye cutlass flapping bilge drinker,” he replied.

“Talking to fish is my gift?” I yelled. “That’s what Poseidon was meant when he said I had a gift?”

What the hell kind of gift was that? A bullcrap gift if you asked me. I was thinking more along the lines of some cool superpower. Shite. This sucked.

“Aye, eejit. Ye and yar brother are Whisperers. Very rare… very special.”

“Talking to a lobster named Don Guido with loose morals is my fucking gift—and it’s special?” I shouted. “Did Kurt get better perks than me?”

If he did I was going to throw a shite fit of epic proportions.

“Nay, the other tar stain has been blessed with the same gift,” he replied. “Get yer arse to the sink. Heal the lobster.”

“What?”

“Ye heard me, boy. Whisper to the lobster. Heal him.”

“Touch his nards?”

“Do whatever ye have to do. And do it now,” the Pirate growled as he began to glow like a freak from the bottom of the sea.

“Fine,” I snapped, before the weirdo went all Rambo on me. “But I’m telling you right now, I’m not touching the nards.”

“Use yar gift,” Pirate Sven insisted. “Let’s see what ye can really do.”

I stared at the Pirate Crab who just stared right back at me. What I really wanted was some of that hummus. He wasn’t right in the head, but neither was I. I spoke to fish and apparently I could heal them. Who knew?

I was skeptical, but the Pirate wasn’t going to give up the hummus until I tried. Whatever. I would give it a shot. Don Guido would certainly be grateful if I could restore his man bits. But I wasn’t going to touch them.

No fucking way.

9

Ariel

“It’s not a big deal,” I said, doing my best to sound nonchalant even though I was anything but.

Clearly I failed. The silence was deafening.

It was making me itchy.

The three people I loved more than any others sat side by side on the overstuffed couch in our cozy quarters and stared at me. Their legs and arms were crossed and their mouths were in perfect little O’s. I was kind of hoping their shock at the developing situation would render them mute for the rest of the day or at least five minutes.

Nope. My sisters never stayed quiet for long.

“It’s a very big deal,” Madison snapped as her pink hair began to float around her head in enchanted frustration. “Krakens are coming. We had a heck of a time killing one with all of our powers combined. Now we’re talking a bunch of the slimy fuckers. Not good.”

“Which is exactly why I have to go find the Kraken Whisperers,” I shot back with an eye roll. I knew it was serious—very serious. Everything we had depended on my finding the idiot Selkies and bringing them back. “The sooner I go the better. Pirate Doug says we have three days before they hit shore.”

“And you have to kiss the nard,” Madison added.

“Whatever,” I said, making no eye contact whatsoever. “That’s the least of my problems at the moment.”

“And why does it have to be you?” Madison kept going as her anger made pink sparkles rain down from the ceiling. “Why can’t the arses— Thornycraft, Upton and Bonar go while you stay safely here with us?”

“Because Pirate Doug chose me,” I yelled. My own blue hair began to blow wildly as well. All of our magic was close to the surface and I knew we’d probably blow up the resort soon, but I wasn’t backing down. “I know Pirate Doug’s an idiot in everyday life, but he knows what he’s doing in battle. Sorry Tallulah,” I apologized to my sister since the Pirate in question was her mate. She simply nodded her head and winked. She thought he was a dummy as well, but she loved him to a distraction. And I was hoping the wink meant she was on my side. “Besides, I… umm… know the Selkie nardhole. I have a better chance than anyone to convince him to help us.”

“Dudette, dudette, duuuuudette,” Misty said, shaking her head and running her hands through her silky green hair. “You certainly know how to step on a jellyfish.”

“More like a smack of jellyfish,” Madison added with a grim smile.

“Isn’t it weird that it’s called a smack?” Misty asked. “I mean who came up with that?”

“Right?” Madison agreed as she calmed down a bit. “I’d have called it a shit pile of jellyfish. Or possibly a stinging ass load of transparent jackholes.”

“Nice.” Misty nodded her head. “However, shit, ass, and jackhole aren’t really acceptable words in polite company.”

“We’re not exactly polite,” I pointed out, trying to keep my sisters on a subject that didn’t concern me and my bad choices or lead to mass destruction of the resort. Thankfully my siblings were very easily distracted. The sparkles and the blowing hair had ceased. Now I just had to keep it that way.

“This is true, but I vote to change the smack term to something that fits better,” Madison said, warming to the subject. “I say from this day forward we call a group of jellyfish a Satan’s Searing Shit Storm. It rolls off the tongue and I love alliteration. You feel me?”

“Yep,” Misty said. “I’m in. Anyone want a frozen margarita?”

“Always,” Madison said as she hopped up off the couch and moved to leave. “Wait.”

She stopped short and appeared completely perplexed. Misty paused as well. The only one who looked calm and serene was Tallulah who hadn’t spoken a word… yet.

“What in Poseidon’s junk in the trunk were we talking about?” Madison asked. “I think it was important.”

“Umm… ass loads of jellyfish?” Misty suggested.

“No. It’s Satan’s Searing Shit Storms of jellyfish. And that’s not what I meant. We were discussing something meaningful.”

“I think getting rid of the term smack is impactful,” Misty replied.

“While I agree with you, I still think we’re forgetting something here,” Madison said, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

I wasn’t about to help them out. I didn’t need to listen to their crap. I was going to save the day and have an adventure. Of course, I’d stupidly agreed to kiss a nard in exchange for the location of the said nard, but that was what I had to do. The fate of our island was at stake.

Secretly, I was looking forward to all of it. However, that ridiculously embarrassing fact would never leave my lips. And I definitely needed to start up my therapy sessions again. My attraction to idiots was not healthy.

“Ladies,” Tallulah said with an eye roll. “And I used the term lightly. We were discussing our baby sister going on a dangerous mission with a bizarre twist of blackmail thrown in.”

“No we weren’t,” I said quickly, hoping to run the conversation off the track again. “We were discussing the cockamamie farked up collective terms used for sea creatures. For example, who thought it was a great idea to name a group of sea otters a romp? Or a group of minnows a steam? And what kind of turd head decided to call a bunch of sea slugs a bouquet? I mean, come on… comparing a slug to a flower?”

“Dude, is that correct?” Madison asked, shocked.

“Yep,” I said, beginning to hit my stride. I’d been able to confuse my sisters for centuries. Well, two of them. Tallulah was tough, but I was going to give it my best shot. “And what sort of douchecanoe decided to call a cluster of sea cucumbers a pickle?”

“Now that one is kind of good,” Misty pointed out with a giggle.

“Agreed,” I said with a grin. “However, I have to give props to the person—probably a woman—who coined the term galaxy for a gang of starfish.”

“Brilliant. Definitely a woman,” Madison said.

“A mass of lobsters is a pod. A bunch of sharks are a gam, herd, frenzy, school or shiver. I prefer frenzy and as far as I know the sharks like school—sounds very intelligent. Gam would be okay since they’ve been known to enjoy munching on legs, but it’s a little gross. Sharks like to go against the stereotype—very elitist crowd. Not that I don’t like sharks. I do. Just calling a spade a spade.”

My sisters were looking dazed and confused—which, apropos of nothing, was a really fun movie.

Now I just needed to go in for the kill.

“Clams are called a bed which is appropriate since they’re very hooker-y and eels are a swarm, pipe, cell or array. I think pipe is best. It’s weird like eels are and it’s descriptively accurate. However, a group of shrimp is called lunch and shrimp go wonderfully with that margarita you were talking about. So if you guys want to get started, I’ll join you in a few. Sound good?”

Misty nodded in bewilderment and staggered toward the door with a stupefied Madison in tow. Thinking on my feet, I pushed my dumbfounded siblings out the door and slammed it shut. Closing my eyes and pressing my cheek against the cool wood, I sighed. Two down and one left to confuse. However, there was no confusing Tallulah. She was our leader. She was the oldest and the smartest. Her mating with Pirate Doug meant her taste in men was beyond questionable, but I certainly wasn’t one to talk. I had appalling taste in men myself.

“Outstanding work, baby girl,” Tallulah said with a laugh. “However, there’s still a discussion waiting to be had.”

“Fine,” I said on a sigh. Getting it over with was necessary. As set as I was on going, I truly did want my sister’s approval. “What part did you want to dissect?”

“How about the blackmail part? Are you okay with that? If you’re not, I’m quite sure I can torture the location out of our new neighbors,” Tallulah offered with a lopsided grin.

“You would do that for me?” I asked. My sister was nuts. Selkies were notoriously violent. Mermaids were no shrinking violets, but Selkies were known warriors.

“I would do anything for you—anything in the world. I love you.”

My eyes welled up with tears and I threw myself at my adored oldest sister. “I would do anything for you too,” I told her, hugging her tight.

“Will you tell me the truth?” she inquired as she tucked a stray strand of blue hair behind my ear.

“Do I have to?”

“Yep,” she replied with a smile. “I need to know what’s in your very full head. And I’d also like to congratulate you on your bizarre knowledge of sea creatures.”

“Thank you,” I said with a giggle and then sobered. If Tallulah wanted the truth, I would give it to her. Easing myself from her embrace, I paced the colorful room. I wondered if she would be disappointed in me. We’d lost our mother so many decades ago and I’d come to think of Tallulah as my mother figure.

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I let it rip.

“I’m not happy. I’m bored. Living forever can get kind of tedious,” I said, wrinkling my nose and letting my chin fall to my chest. “It’s not that I don’t love you and Misty and Madison… I just… want to go. I want to see the world. And I want to do it without my big sisters watching me mess up. I want to make my own mistakes and my own victories and I want to have fun.”

Tallulah was quiet as she watched me struggle with my words.

“It’s not that I’m ungrateful,” I said quickly. “I love it here. It’s my home. You’re my home, but I want to have something all my own. I want to find my own true love.”

I peeked over at my silent sister. Much to my surprise she was grinning.

“You’re not mad at me?” I asked.

“Nope. I want you to have all those things too. What I’m worried about is you possibly dealing with the Krakens alone. Not to mention having to kiss a Selkie named Keith who asked you to do his laundry during a boink. A Mermaid’s kiss can be a very dangerous thing. You can bind a man to you if you’re not careful.”

“It’s only dangerous if I love him,” I pointed out, feeling my stomach flip-flop.

“And do you?” Tallulah asked.

“Look, Keith’s a nard,” I said with a giggle. “It’s really too bad because he was tremendous in the boink department and he made me laugh… until he didn’t. Honestly, I don’t know that much about him. I wanted to, but...” I sighed and sat down next to my sister. “We were only together for a week when he showed his jackhole colors. And trust me on this. He’s not going to want to kiss me anymore than I want to kiss him. His mom is as bonkers as he is to suggest it. His last memory of me was me standing over him with a sword ready to remove his Johnson.”

“Interesting,” Tallulah said with a small smirk. “How did he get out of that? You’re damned good with a sword.”

“At the time I didn’t understand, but now I do,” I said, putting it together as I spoke. “Strangest thing happened. I was just about to lop off his wank and all of a sudden six sea turtles and a few lobsters showed up in my room. My little fish jumped out of my fish tank and three of my mini frogs escaped their hut. I was so alarmed and worried that my fish and frogs would die I rushed to the tank and the hut and put them back in. In the time it took me to do that, Keith was gone.”

“You think he called to the creatures?” Tallulah asked.

“I do. At the time I thought it was a bizarre coincidence and that he was the luckiest Selkie in the land, but now I think he called to them to save his sorry lame ass,” I said shaking my head and grinning.

“How much do you like this nard?” Tallulah asked with a raised brow.

“I hate him,” I replied far too quickly, knowing that I wasn’t exactly telling the whole truth at the moment.

“Again, interesting,” Tallulah said, smiling. “You do realize I hated Pirate Doug when he showed back up here?”

“Your point?” I asked, raising my own brow.

“No point. Just an observation,” she said, trying to bite back her delight.

She failed.

“I don’t like him—at all,” I insisted. “My true love will do his own freakin’ laundry and he’ll know how to cook.”

“Those are your requirements for your Prince Charming?” Tallulah asked with a laugh. “You’re pretty easy.”

“Oh my seahorse,” I grumbled. “He’ll also be tall, handsome, kind, funny, and have a spectacular package along with drop dead dimples. He’ll want to go on adventures and he’ll love me. We’ll travel the world and save the day all over the place. He’ll have extensive knowledge of great movies and he’ll like to sleep late on the weekends. We’ll do crossword puzzles and then we’ll boink—regularly, energetically and spontaneously. He’ll have to love the water and be fond of my violent need for to smack down on bad guys every now and then. It would be great if we could smack down on bad guys together, but that’s not a requirement. I’m really good at it, so as long as he’s cool it will work.”

“Umm… you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Tallulah said trying not to laugh. “Sounds like you’re looking for a super hero—your very own Aquaman.”

“A Mermaid can wish,” I said with a giggle. “And being immortal leaves me with a bunch of time on my hands. You feel me?”

“I feel you,” she said. “I also believe in you. You’re meant to fly or swim to greatness, my little sister. I’ll always worry about you, but you have my blessing and my support. I want you to find your happily ever after just like I found mine.”

“Well, before I can do that, I need to save the island from the butthole Krakens.”

“This is true,” Tallulah said as she rose from the couch and then paused. “What’s a group of Krakens called?”

I thought about that one for a second and realized I didn’t know. Krakens rarely formed groups. They mainly travelled solo.

“I’d have to call a group of Krakens a clusterfuck,” I replied. “A big fat hairy clusterfuck.”

“Appropriate,” she said with a curt nod. “You have three days. Do you know how going to find the nards?”

“Not yet, but I will shortly,” I told Tallulah. “I’m meeting their mom on the beach in twenty minutes.”

“Good luck with that,” Tallulah said as she kissed the top of my head. “She’s insane.”

“Not a problem. I’m not quite right in the head either. It will be fine.”

I hoped.

Ask any tuna you happen to see. Who’s the craziest Mermaid?

That would be me.

* * *

“So you’re telling me that Pirate Doug is the heir apparent to Poseidon’s throne?” Kate asked with a looked of pained disbelief on her lovely face.

“Yep,” I said, picking up a pretty pink shell and putting it in my pocket. “But thankfully Poseidon isn’t planning on retiring any time soon.”

“And Pirate Doug’s mother?” Kate questioned.

“Janet. She’s a demi-Goddess, but she goes by Wally.”

“Like damn it, Janet, I love you?” Kate asked.

A movie reference? I froze and my mouth dropped open. Was this woman a kindred soul? Crap. Everything kept getting more complicated. I really didn’t want to like Keith’s family because I didn’t like Keith… but then again, his family didn’t seem too fond of him either.

“What?” Kate asked, alarmed as she quickly scanned the beach for danger.

“I asked the same thing when I heard Janet’s name,” I told her. “You’ve seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

“Of course I have,” Kate replied with a laugh. “It’s a classic, along with Waiting for Guffman, Spinal Tap, Talledega Nights and Napoleon Dynamite.”

Again, I was struck speechless. Kate was awesome. How did she produce such a dork of a son?

“Do you like Sharknado?” I asked, testing her.

Her eyes shot to mine in delighted surprise and a slow and satisfied smile pulled at her lips.

“I watch all those movies with my boys,” she said, waiting for my reaction. “Keith loves Sharknado.”

I schooled my expression. I didn’t care that Keith had great taste in movies. I really I didn’t know much about the butthole, other than his unparalleled bedroom skills… and I wasn’t going to share that with his mother. I did know he couldn’t cook or do laundry, which made him a sexist loser. Time to change the subject.

“Poseidon is wooing Wally,” I said, searching for anything to get Kate’s mind off mating off her son. I considered going back into my useless knowledge of groups of sea creatures, but Kate wasn’t as easily distracted as my sisters. “After we kicked the Kraken’s ass a few months ago, Wally kneed the God of the Sea in the nuts.”

“Did he deserve it?” Kate inquired.

“Absolutely.”

“Then good for her,” she said with a grin. “Do they live on the Mystical Isle as well?”

“Gods no,” I shouted and then tamped it back. I was very aware it wasn’t good form to insult the Sea God even if he was an odd, green haired, egotistical lover of rum. “They just visit occasionally—and cause tons of destruction.”

“I see.”

We strolled in awkward silence. The sun was setting on the water and a few early stars popped out in the darkening sky. Twilight was my favorite time of the day and honestly I wanted to be alone to think. Sharing it with the mother of a dumbass I wanted to think about was messing with my chi, but I needed information and I needed it now.

I could tell Kate wanted to wax poetic about her idiot son. All I wanted to know was where he was so I could drag his sorry Selkie butt back to Mystical Isle and save the day. The Krakens weren’t going to wait for us to get back up. Three days. I had three days.

“So are you going to tell me how to find your spawn?” I asked, avoiding his name in fear I might get my look.

I hated getting my look. My sisters were merciless when I got my look. It was a cross between a smile, a smirk and a dreamy expression of longing. It was a dead giveaway that I was interested or fond of something and I had no freakin’ control over it. Getting my look about a douche who didn’t know how to wash his own clothes wasn’t on my agenda for the evening. Finding him was.

“I’ll have to take you most of the way there,” Kate replied. “Paradise is a very difficult place to find—practically impossible. It’s not marked on any map.”

“You lived on Paradise Island?” I asked, surprised. I’d heard of it, but had always thought it was a myth.

“Indeed I did,” she said. “It’s quite beautiful, but it was time for a change.”

“Why?”

She paused and looked out over the ocean. I could tell she was considering how much to share. Interesting.

“It was time for Keith and Kurt to grow up. With me and their father there, they weren’t exactly doing that,” she said, carefully.

“So you were still doing his laundry and cooking for him?” I asked.

“Umm… well… My boys are rather…”

“Lazy, spoiled and immature?” I offered.

Kate’s laugh was delightful and it made me like her even more.

“When you put it that way, they sound awful. Let’s just say they needed a good kick in the ass. I love them and I love them enough to let them fend for themselves so they can become the Selkies they’re supposed to be.”

“So when do we leave?” I asked, avoiding any more loving talk about her sons. “The Krakens are supposed to hit our shores in three days. The sooner the better.”

“The earliest we can go is in the morning. The tide at night around Paradise is incredibly dangerous.”

“Fine,” I said, disappointed but willing to go with her plan. Getting torn apart in a violent undertow wasn’t my idea of a good time. “I’ll see you at sun up.”

“Although…” Kate began and then stopped herself.

“What?”

“Well, there is a Selkie legend that could get you there sooner, but it’s silly.”

“At this point nothing is silly,” I told her.

“Well, Keith would have to be your true love to make this work.”

“He’s not. He’s a nardhole,” I said as my stomach started feeling a bit queasy.

“Yes, well… then I suppose it wouldn’t work. Never mind,” Kate said and began to walk away.

I watched her back as she made her way to her new home on our island.

“Just for shits and giggles, what is it?” I called out and then wanted to belt myself in the head.

Kate stopped and turned. Her smile lit her face and her blue eyes sparkled. She looked so much like Keith with boobs, I had to stare at the sand.

“First, promise me that you won’t tell the boys where their father and I are.”

“May I ask why?”

Kate paused just a fraction too long… I knew that method. She was about to lie or tell a half truth.

“I want it to be a surprise for them when they get here,” she said, not quite making eye contact.

“And?” I pressed.

She sighed and chuckled. “My boys will never grow up if they have their father and me to lean on.”

“Or mooch off of?” I asked with a grin.

“That too,” she said with a laugh. “You must promise.”

“I promise,” I said.

“Very well then… If you cry seven teardrops into the sea while thinking about a specific Selkie, you will be taken to your Selkie true love. Silly isn’t it?” she said with a sad but sweet smile.

“Totally,” I replied with a forced laugh. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“That you will. Sleep well, Mermaid Ariel.”

And with that she was gone. I was alone on the beach. Looking out over the ocean, I felt incredibly small. The crashing of the waves calmed my soul, but made me sad at the same time. Walking out into the shallow waters, I sat down and let my tail come out. A good hard swim in the ocean would take my mind off all of the crazy things that were floating around in my brain.

The stars were winking at me as if they knew a secret. I suppose they did. They’d been around much longer than I had. Keith the idiot was not my true love. He couldn’t be… Could he? How could someone that couldn’t do his own laundry be my true love? Impossible. Maybe I didn’t have a true love. The thought was depressing and the tears came unbidden.

I watched as they hit the cool salty water.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

And then I died. Or at least I think I did. The waves became vicious and swallowed me up whole. The last thing I remember is screaming out my sisters’ names.

What in the ever loving Chicken of the Sea? How the heck could a Mermaid die by drowning?

10

Keith

“I think we should wait until Kurt gets back,” I told Pirate Sven as we both stared at Don Guido.

I was not going to touch his balls. I wasn’t even sure where a lobster kept his balls. My plan was to make Kurt touch the balls. However, if my brother wasn’t here he couldn’t touch the balls. Shite.

The lobster was still in the sink. He was cursing up a storm in Italian. At least it sounded like Italian. I had no clue the crustacean was bilingual, but he’d watched so many mob movies I shouldn’t have been surprised.

“What’s he saying?” Pirate Sven asked.

“Umm… not sure. Sounds like he swearing in Italian.”

“I speak Italian. I can translate for ye. Might be important. Repeat what the lobster is saying since I can’t hear the little fella,” Pirate Sven suggested.

“Okay… Vaffanculo. Incazzato. A fanabla. Mangia merde e morte. Che palle! Stronzo.”

“Ye got a cusser on yer hands. But me guess is he only knows the bad words,” the Crab said with a chuckle.

“Is it Italian?”

“Aye, the runt said, go fuck yerself. He’s pissed. Go to hell. Eat shite and die. What balls! And arsehole. That’s quite a mouth on that puny crustacean. But I suppose if I lost me nards I’d be cussin’ too.”

“How can we be sure he even lost his balls?” I asked trying to buy some time for Kurt to get his sorry sphincter back. “Maybe they’re just crushed. I didn’t see any balls floating in the bucket.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen lobster balls,” Pirate Sven said, scratching his head. “I could search the bucket and it I find em, we could glue em back on.”

“Glued on balls are not going to work,” I said with an eye roll. “Besides, Don Guido lives in the ocean. I’m gonna guess that glue won’t hold in salt water for very long.”

“Ye got a better idea, Tar Stain?” the Crab grunted, clearly insulted that I wasn’t going with his ridiculous plan.

“As a matter of fact I do,” I snapped, reaching into the sink and touching Don Guido’s head.

Without thinking, I let my magic flow through me and seep into the small miserable lobster. He was definitely missing his balls. I knew it the minute I touched him. Shite. It was painful. My own nards ached in sympathy. I was still unclear exactly where Don Guido’s testicles were located, but I realized I didn’t have to touch them at all to heal the idiot. All I needed to do was send energy through him and then hope he grew a new set.

“Keith,” Don Guido said. “Didn’t mean to call youse an arsehole. I only know a few phrases.”

“No worries, man. Have you ever lost your nuts before?” I asked on the outside chance that lobsters could regenerate sex organs.

“No. I’ve had my balls for all my fifty years,” he said sadly. “I’m gonna miss dem round bouncy globes.”

“Umm… how about this… You never ever refer to your nads as round bouncy globes again and I try to fix them.”

“Youse can fix balls?” he asked, shocked.

“I have no fucking idea,” I replied, wincing at the thought of what was about to go down. “Apparently I’m some kind of sea creature Whisperer. The Pirate says I can heal you. However, I think there’s a fine chance the Pirate is full of shite.”

“All Pirates are full of shite,” Don Guido agreed. “But Pirate Sven ain’t all dat bad—a little too neat for my liking, but generally a good guy.”

“He rakes his carpet,” I told Don Guido. “Who in Poseidon’s Seven Seas rakes their damned carpet?”

“Are youse serious?”

“No, you crunchy dung hose. I’m Keith—the guy who might be able to repair your nuts.”

“Right. My bad,” Don Guido apologized. “I want to give you my first born son, Vito. He’s not so hot in the brains department, but he’s a good boy. Youse will love him.”

“Umm, thanks but no thanks. First off, I haven’t fixed your nards yet.”

“I know, but the fact that youse is going to try is enough for me. If youse don’t want Vito, youse gotta let me give youse the pearls that I’m gonna lift from the eel.”

“You’re going to steal fenced pearls?”

“Darn tootin. Dat bastard is askin’ too much. Youse can give dem to your lady.”

“I don’t have a lady at the moment.”

“Dat’s a damned shame. Youse is a fine catch.”

“I know. Right?” I replied and thought about the one violently sexy Mermaid who still occupied my Johnson’s thoughts and mine too. She would look beautiful in a nice set of stolen pearls. However, the image of Ariel clad only in pearls with a sword poised over my Johnson was slightly disconcerting. Whatever. There were thousands of women to bed. It was the pillow talk I sucked at. And I certainly didn’t want someone who didn’t want me… Wait. Yes, I did. Whatever. I needed to focus on the nards.

“Youse will find your lady and youse will give her the pearls.”

I shook my head and chuckled. The lobster was nuts—pun intended.

“Fine. You wanna give me the fenced and soon to be stolen pearls? I’ll take them, but only if I can get your balls back.”

“Deal,” Don Guido said. “What should I do here?”

“Again, no fucking clue. Where are your balls supposed to be?” I asked.

“Between my legs where all balls are.”

“You have a lot of fucking legs, dude. Wanna be more specific?”

“Right. I got ya. It’s the last set of legs near my tail. And if I could make a request, I’d like large ones. My old sack was kind of saggy and jiggly. The left nut was bigger than the right. I’d like the nuts to be even and the size of Steve’s.”

“Who the hell is Steve?”

“He’s the fucking wise guy lobster dat strips every Saturday at the club. Very nice balls.”

I stopped myself before I asked how a lobster stripped. That was information I could live forever without knowing.

“I don’t know Steve and thankfully have never seen his fucking balls. You’re gonna get what you get and be happy. You feel me?”

“I feel youse,” he replied. “Are youse gonna touch my nards?”

“NO. I’m not going to touch your nards. I don’t even wanna see your nards,” I snapped.

“Dat sounds a little iffy. What if my balls end up on my head instead of with my Johnson?”

I paused and huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine point. Well made,” I conceded. “I will look. However, if I have to touch them, you’re going to remain nutless.”

“I understand,” Don Guido said. “I wouldn’t want to cup your boys either.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“What are ye talking about?” Pirate Sven asked watching us with great interest.

“Do you really want to know?” I shot back.

“Aye.”

“Well, Don Guido wants bigger balls than he previously had. He’s fond of some lobster named Steve’s balls. Steve strips at the club on Saturdays and apparently has very nice nards.”

“How in the stripey-sweatered son of a sea snake does a lobster strip?” Pirate Sven asked, confused.

“Don’t know. Didn’t ask. Don’t ever want to know,” I replied.

“Aye. Good thinking, Tar Stain.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome. So do ye have to touch ‘em?” Pirate Sven inquired with a slight wince.

“I don’t think so,” I said with relief. “However, I’m not sure if this is going to get messy. Since you’re such a jackhole of a clean freak, do you want me to take this outside? It’s been a rough day and I don’t think I could stomach you beheading yourself over some guts on the wall.”

The Pirate looked at me with genuine surprise and gratitude. It was all kinds of weird, but I felt strangely proud.

“Was ye just considerate of me feelings?” he asked.

“Umm… I don’t know. Was I?”

I was unsure what the correct answer to that question was so I decided to play it vague. I did call him a jackhole neat freak after all. I was positive the old Crab could punch like a freight train and I had balls to repair. Plus I really didn’t want to see him behead himself if I accidentally blew up Don Guido and got lobster innards all over the kitchen. I would never admit it, but I kind of liked the Crab.

“Ye was, Tar Stain. Ye might be salvageable yet,” he said and slapped me on the back so hard I thought the kale chips might come back up. I was fairly certain the slap was affectionate—painful, but affectionate.

“You think I’m salvageable?” I asked. I wasn’t aware anything was wrong with me.

Pirate Sven narrowed his eyes at me and I stared right back at him. His smile was slow and made me slightly uncomfortable, but I stood my ground. I knew I could tear him apart if I had to. I was a freakin’ Selkie. We were the most vicious species around when necessary. However, I was more of a live and let live kind of dude.

“Aye. It’s time for ye and yer eejit brother to grow up. Ye have found yer calling in life and ye are now enrolled in the School of Sven.”

“Umm… not so sure we can work that into our busy schedule,” I told him. I had no clue what the School of Sven entailed, but it didn’t sound good.

This day had sucked more ass than any day I could remember in my three hundred years—not counting the day I’d screwed up and almost lost my own nards to the sexy Mermaid. I’d thought being deserted by our irresponsible parents and left to starve was bad, but now with the remote possibility of having to touch lobster balls and being taught by a Waterworld fanboy neat freak I was ready to throw in the towel. And where in the fuck was Kurt? How long did it take to gather dirty underpants?

“What have ye got to do that’s so important?” the Crab asked, crossing his pinchers over his massive chest and eyeing me.

“Stuff,” I replied. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t think a marathon of Aquaman movies was significant.

“Nay, ye are going to become a man,” he informed me.

“Last time I checked I was a man,” I said with an eye roll.

“Nay, ye are a weenie. A real man can cry.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Nay, I’m Pirate Sven, ye rotten fish stank,” he reminded me. “A real man can cook, clean, do the tango and boink at least ten times a night with his lady. And a real man does not clip shrubs into dongs.”

“And you’re a real man?” I snapped, annoyed. Crap, I’d bet a real man didn’t draw a mustache and zits with a permanent marker on Kevin Costner either. Shite. I could only do one of those things. At least I was good at it. And I could go far more than ten times a night with a lady. I’d had no complaints about my boinking skills, it was the after-boink prowess that needed some work.

“Aye.”

“I don’t see a woman here,” I pointed out.

“I’m biding me time and waiting for the right lassie,” Pirate Sven huffed. “Ye are a fuckin’ mess. If the right lassie came along. ye would screw it up. A lassie would as soon as cut yer man tool off as mate ye.”

His statement gave me pause. Was the old freak correct? Was that why I couldn’t keep a gal? Was that why the only one I’d ever truly wanted tried to lop off my Johnson?

“Hello,” Don Guido called out. “Still got no balls here.”

“Sorry, man,” I said, relived to have to deal with a lobster’s nuts than question my own manliness. “You ready?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No clue. Did it hurt when they came off?”

“Like a motherfucker,” Don Guido confirmed.

“Then I’m guessing it’s not going to be pleasant to reinstate your nards,” I said.

“Serves me right,” Don Guido said sadly. “Need to learn to keep it in my shell. Stella is a good crustacean. Never shoulda cheated on her with Carmella. But the things Carmella can do with her antenna should be outlawed. Youse feel me?”

“Umm… no. And I’d prefer not to.”

“No problem. I just wanna say one more thing. Youse should take Pirate Sven up on some lessons. Weeze is all worried about youse and Kurt. It ain’t natural to be livin’ in your parents’ basement for three hundred years. Youse should have a family of little Aquababies by now.”

“You think I’m a weenie too?” I demanded. I couldn’t believe this shite.

“Naaa, I think youse is a work in progress. Kind of like my boy Vito.”

“You said Vito wasn’t much in the brains department,” I reminded him, narrowing my eyes at the lobster.

“Did I say dat?” he asked, way too innocently. “I don’t recall sayin’ dat.”

“I’d suggest you shut your pie hole before I get more pissed and give you lady bits instead of balls. You got it?”

“Got it,” Don Guido squeaked.

“What did the wee crustacean say?” Pirate Sven asked.

“He said…” I paused and considered lying. What would Jason Momoa do? Shite. Maybe all these freaks had a point. Maybe my turncoat parents were right. Maybe… “He said I should go to your smelly, panty-waisted, jerkstore school so I can have some little Aquababies. You happy?”

“Yep. Now give the lobster some balls, Tar Stain. We’ve got work to do!”

Pirate Sven’s excitement made me a little gassy. I wasn’t a big fan of school, but even I knew I had to make a few small adjustments. Kurt was going to crap his surf shorts. Maybe today was looking up.

“Okay, Don Guido. We’re gonna do this. And if you ever get your nuts whacked off again, you’re on your own.”

“Roger dat,” Don Guido said as his little black beady eyes went wide with fear.

Reaching back into the sink, I placed my hand on the dummy’s head and kept my eyes open. The lobster had made an excellent point. I wanted the balls to go back in the correct general area. I planned on doing this once and only once. I hoped it wouldn’t be excruciating for the little dude, but I hoped it would hurt enough to make him remember not to get into a situation like this again any time soon.

“Wow,” I whispered as I realized with just a touch, I could feel all of his maladies. Don Guido’s balls were gone, but he also had an enlarged heart and his crusher claw was coming detached. The old fart was a freakin’ mess.

“Hang on, buddy, I’m gonna fix you up like new,” I promised my little friend.

Only for a single moment did I wonder how to do it. And then I simply knew. It wasn’t hard and it wasn’t really complicated. All I needed to do was send my magic to the places that needed care. Easy peasy.

Or not…

“Shite,” I bellowed at the top of my lungs as I felt a massive tingle to my heart, my nads and my left hand. It was like a hundred octopuses were tickling me against my will. Weird. “What the fuck was that?”

Hopping around Pirate Sven’s kitchen while laughing like a drunken sailor, I tried to walk off the bizarre side effect. Slowly the phantom tickling dissipated, but now I was seriously worried. Bright blue smoke rose from the sink and the sound of Don Guido’s anguished moans filled my ears.

“Check the lobster,” I instructed Pirate Sven harshly. I was terrified I’d killed my friend if the lingering tickle in my nards was anything to go by. I just couldn’t look.

“I’m good,” Don Guido choked out, waving his claws to clear the smoke.

His little head peeked up over the edge of the sink and I heaved a huge sigh of relief.

“You’re really okay?” I asked.

“Feel like a million bucks. What did youse do?”

“I fixed your nards, your heart and your claw. You were a fucking tragedy waiting to happen, dude.”

“What was youse laughing about?”

“Weirdest thing,” I said. “Healing tickles like a motherfucker.”

Don Guido stared at me in awe. Two big fat tears rolled down his shell and he bowed to me like I was some sort of god. I supposed he was a real man because he could cry…

“Youse is my hero, Keith. I will be delivering a shit-ton of pearls to you shortly. And just in case youse changed your mind, the offer to take Vito is still on the table.”

“You can keep Vito,” I said with a grin. “Just stay out of trouble.”

Picking the lobster up out of the sink, I gently placed him on the floor and opened the front door. Pirate Sven just as carefully removed the rest of Don Guido’s family from the bucket and all of the lobsters scampered out of the house.

“Well, Tar Stain, looks like ye was successful,” Pirate Sven said with a chuckle as he handed me a fresh bowl of hummus from the fridge and a huge bag of the homemade kale chips.

“Kurt’s never going to believe this shite,” I said with a grin as I dug into the chips and hummus. “Fucking unreal. Tickled like a motherhumper.”

“Keith,” Kurt screamed as he fell through the front door of Pirate Sven’s house and dropped our dirty laundry everywhere. “On the beach. I think she’s dead. So pretty and so dead.”

“What in Poseidon’s fat ass are you talking about,” I shouted back, getting a very sick feeling in my stomach. “Who’s dead?”

“The Mermaid. The one who tried to remove your dong. The one you talk about in your sleep all the time—Ariel,” he said trying to catch his breath. “She laying on the beach and I think she’s dead.”

“How do you know its Ariel?” I asked, getting panicky.

“It’s the same girl in the picture you keep hidden under your mattress, booger tank.”

“What the hell are you doing looking under my mattress, rectum fan?”

“Is that important right now, Tar Stain?” Pirate Sven inquired. “There’s a dead Mermaid on the beach and yarr two eejits are gonna stand here and call each other boogers and rectums?”

The Crab made an excellent observation. Was Ariel dead?

My entire world tilted on its axis for a brief moment and I wanted to destroy something. Was Kurt insane? Wait. Did I really talk about Ariel in my sleep? Was my brother so hungry he was seeing things? Was Ariel really on the beach? All of a sudden tomorrow didn’t appeal if Ariel wasn’t in this world anymore. I didn’t even care if she’d come to lop my Johnson off. As long as she was okay, I would be fine and I was a fast runner. I could dodge a sword aimed at my jewels any day of the week.

“Get out of my way,” I roared, shoving Pirate Sven and Kurt to the side as I tore out of the house.

If Ariel was on my beach I needed to save her. I had no clue if my fucking gift could save Mermaids, but that gorgeous blue haired Mermaid was mine—violent Johnson lopping tendencies and all.

11

Ariel

My body felt like it had gone through a tsunami. My limbs wouldn’t move and my eyes refused to open. Was I dead? It felt like granules of sand beneath my broken body, but I couldn’t be sure. What the heck had happened to me? I had to be dead. Was I in Heaven? It certainly smelled delicious—all citrusy and floral.

The last thing I could recall was sitting in the ocean and staring at the stars. And then…

No way.

There was no way in Poseidon’s Salty Seven Seas that the Selkie legend had worked. Keith was not my true love. Heck, he was probably terrified of me. I’d tried to remove his Johnson. Of course he’d deserved it, but still…

Whatever. The Selkie legend was bullshit. Kate had to have been screwing with me. I’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and got sucked up into the weirdest most violent storm I’d ever come across in all my centuries.

Dang it, I was supposed to save the day and I’d screwed it all up. Now my sisters and the Mystical Isle were in danger from the Krakens because I got sucked up into a freakin’ tsunami. And worst of all I wasn’t going to ever see the idiot Selkie again. The timing couldn’t have been worse and now I was most likely dead. Crap.

“NO!” a male voice shouted.

It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t be sure as my ears were still ringing.

Was it Zeus? Or Poseidon? Or…

“Ariel,” he said as he gently lifted me into his arms and cradled me to his bare chest. “Damn it, are you dead?”

I tried to answer, but nothing came out. Was I dead? I felt so safe and happy in this man’s arms and he smelled amazing. Did I know him? He certainly seemed to know me.

“Tar Stain, is the lassie alive?” another voice yelled.

Tar Stain? My hero’s name is Tar Stain? That was all kinds of wrong. I racked my brain to try to remember if I knew anyone named Tar Stain. It was an awful name for someone as muscular and as good smelling as the man holding me.

“Grab a towel or something,” Tar Stain growled. “Ariel’s alive. She lost her bikini top and no one can ogle her knockers except me. I’m serious. I will tear your eyes out of your head if you so much as peek at even one of her boobs.”

“Duuude, chillax your crack,” another voice said. “No one is looking at her tremendous rack.”

I felt Tar Stain gently cover me in a soft material, but I still couldn’t move or talk.

“Listen dookie knuckle, if she wasn’t in my arms right now I would kick your ass so hard you’d have to travel the world to find it again,” Tar Stain snapped.

Dookie Knuckle laughed at Tar Stain’s threat. These people had some truly bizarre names.

“Tar Stain, can ye heal her like ye did the lobsters?” the older of the three asked.

Now that voice sounded a lot like a Pirate.

“Whoa,” Dookie Knuckle shouted. “What’s going on? You healed a lobster?”

I felt Tar Stain stiffen and then sigh. “I did. Don Guido’s wife Stella ripped his nards off when she found out about his mistress Carmella. I had to help him.”

“Me thought one ball was lopped off by Stella and one by Carmella,” the Pirate said.

“My bad,” Tar Stain amended. “That’s correct. Stella got one nard and Carmella yanked off the other. Thanks.”

“No problem,” the Pirate said.

What in the chicken of the sea was Tar Stain talking about? These people were nuts.

“Wait,” Dookie Knuckle yelled, sounding a bit hysterical. “You told the Pirate that we could talk to sea creatures?”

“He already knew,” Tar Stain said. “That’s our fucking gift.”

“Did you tell him we were diagnosed as vegetarians too?” Dookie Knuckle demanded.

“Nope, but you just did,” Tar Stain snapped. “So he now knows everything. We’re plant eaters and we can commune with fucking fish.”

“Sweet Poseidon in a panty girdle,” Dookie Knuckle bellowed. “Talking to sea creatures is our gift? That sucks hairy donkey balls.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Tar Stain said. “But not only can we talk to the freaks, we can heal them, dude.”

“For real?” Dookie Knuckle asked, sounding wildly impressed. “So we have jobs now? Freakin’ awesome! Dad will crap his shorts.”

“Aye,” the Pirate said. “Ye eejits have a special gift and sooner than yarr realize it will be put to the test—an enormous test.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Tar Stain muttered as I felt him gently push my wet hair from my face. “She not dead, but I’m not sure what’s wrong. She won’t wake up.”

“Me thinks ye should kiss the girl,” the Pirate suggested.

“The girl doesn’t like me,” Tar Stain said. “She tried to lop off my Johnson after the best boink of my life.”

Oh. My. Sea Horses. It wasn’t someone named Tar Stain. It was Keith. Dang it, I needed to open my eyes.

“Ye must suck in the sack, boy,” the Pirate said with a laugh.

He most certainly does not, I shouted inside my head. Why didn’t my mouth work? This was completely biting ass. I could insult and castrate Keith all I wanted to, but I didn’t like it at all when other people were doing it.

“I kind of asked her if she could cook and do laundry in the middle of it,” Keith admitted sheepishly.

There was dead silence after this appalling revelation.

“You’re a butt crunch whistle,” Dookie Knuckle informed Keith.

I was beginning to speculate that Dookie Knuckle was the infamous Kurt and that I was indeed on Paradise Island, which meant Tar Stain aka Keith was my true freakin’ love. Maybe it would be better to die right now. My taste in a true love was apparently completely farked up.

But I couldn’t die. I had to save my sisters, my friends and my island.

“Ye need to kiss the girl, eejit,” the Pirate repeated. “Try it.”

“What if it wakes her up and she tries to kill me?” Keith asked.

It was a fine point. However, there was no time to kill him. I needed him to whisper to the Krakens so we could avoid being wiped off the map of the Bermuda Triangle. There would be plenty of time to kill him after that.

“Well, seems to me that’s a chance ye will have to take,” the Pirate told him.

“What would Aquaman do?” Kurt asked. “I think you know, assnugget blaster.”

“Aquaman—specifically Jason Momoa—would kiss the girl,” Keith yelled.

“Damn right!” Kurt echoed the shout. “Do it, grizzly sphincter twig.”

I could feel Keith’s delicious breath on my cheek and my limp and useless body tingled with delight as his lips drew closer to mine. NO. He couldn’t kiss me. If he did, he would be bewitched. I mean, that sounded kind of good, but really bad at the same time. If the seven tear thing was accurate he was my true love. That didn’t mean I was his true love… did it?

I wanted my true love to love me because he wanted to, not because he fell under a Mermaid’s spell. With all my might I pulled on my ancient magic and will myself conscious.

My body jerked and my eyes popped open. I met the bright blue lust filled gaze of the idiot I was hopefully destined to be with right before his lips touched mine. He was gorgeous and ripped within an inch of his life. The stars lit the sky and their glow bounced off of his blond hair making him look like an angel. Why did the butthole have to be so beautiful? And why did he have dimples? I loved dimples.

“You’re a nard,” I choked out.

“Thank you,” Keith said with a laugh.

“I don’t think the Mermaid was giving ye a compliment,” the Pirate said.

“Don’t care,” Keith replied still staring at me. “She’s alive. She can call me anything she wants.”

“Bring her to me cottage. The lassie needs to eat and rest,” the Pirate instructed as he began to walk up the beach.

“You gonna introduce me, buttbrain?” Kurt asked Keith with a huge grin on his handsome face.

He looked a lot like Keith, but he was a bit smaller. They were both stupidly beautiful, but my heart only fluttered for the idiot who held my tight in his strong arms.

“She mine. You can’t have her. You can’t look at her. If you do I will cut the crotches out of every single pair of surf shorts you own,” Keith informed his brother.

“Hi, I’m Kurt,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes at his brother. “Keith is a caveman. If you need saving let me know. If I catch him from behind I can do some major damage.”

“I’m Ariel,” I said with a giggle as I shook Kurt’s outstretched hand. “However, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Kicking Keith’s ass is on the top of my to-do list. But the offer is appreciated.”

Kurt laughed. Keith growled. I just rolled my eyes and laid my head on Keith’s chest, which seemed to calm him greatly. I was an idiot to take comfort from him. He had a mouth like a ten year old boy and a maturity level to match. But I was exhausted and extremely sore. In this moment in time, leaning on him felt perfect. I was sure something would go wrong very soon, but right now it was blissful.

* * *

“Oh my Chicken of the Sea,” I said with a mouth full. “These are the best kale chips I’ve had in my entire life, Pirate Sven. You are a true master!”

“Thank ye” Pirate Sven said with an adorable blush on his harsh face. “Are ye feeling more yerself now, little Mermaid?”

“I am,” I replied with a smile. And I really was. Thankfully, mermaids healed quickly— most immortals did. “Your home is lovely and your hospitality is wonderful.”

Pirate Sven blushed again. However, Keith growled.

It was all kinds of sexy and ridiculous—not that I had time to notice that. I was here on a mission and it wasn’t to get laid. I needed to get the lay of the land and situation and then convince Keith and Kurt to help me.

The Pirate Crab’s house was so freaking cute and neat, I fell in love with it immediately. I’d bet his Pirate ship was equally as charming. It was odd that such a rough looking man was so tidy, but many things were odd on Paradise Island.

“I’m learning how to make those kale chips,” Keith chimed in loudly.

Case in point… Keith was learning to cook?

Kurt’s eyes grew wide and he laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. Of course this led to Keith diving on top of Kurt and all hell broke loose. Pirate Sven separated them with his pincher hands and threw them to separate sides of the room.

“Yer learning to cook, Tar Stain?” Pirate Sven inquired with a grin and a raised brow.

“Yesssssss,” Keith hissed, giving Kurt the finger. “Don’t you teach that cooking shite in Pirate Sven School?”

“Aye,” the Pirate said. “It’s the first cooking lesson. After ye learn how to wash yer own dirty grundies.”

“You see, Ariel?” Keith said, puffing out his muscular chest and clearly trying to impress. “I’m becoming a real man. I haven’t cried yet, but I’m going to cut back on trimming shrubs into penises and I’m going to refrain from toilet papering people’s yards before monsoons.”

I bit back my grin with effort. He was an idiot, but I was pretty sure he was my idiot and I was strangely happy about that. Note to self… make that therapy appointment.

“Can I ask ye a question, little Mermaid?” Pirate Sven inquired, placing a beautifully arranged cheese and fruit tray in front of me.

“Sure.”

“How did ye get to Paradise Island? It’s not an easy place to find—at all.”

All of a sudden three sets of curious male eyes were on me. Should I come clean now? Or later?

Later. Definitely later.

Or maybe never.

I promised Kate I wouldn’t reveal her and Kenny’s whereabouts. I’d be breaking my word if I even mentioned them. Crap. And I certainly wasn’t going to share that I’d cried seven dumbass tears into the ocean and got caught up in a love tsunami of my own making.

As I picked up a grape and popped it in my mouth, I wanted to cry. What if Keith was my true love and I really wasn’t his? I should have asked Kate the particulars on the seven tear drop thing. Now I was sure I couldn’t share the way I’d gotten here.

“Umm… I swam here,” I kind of lied.

“Impossible. Are you serious?” Keith asked, shocked.

“Nope, I’m Ariel,” I replied taking a page from Pirate Doug’s book. “And it doesn’t matter how I got here. It matters why I’m here.” Changing the subject was necessary. Tackling Keith to the ground and telling him he was my true love in front of his brother and a Pirate Crab with pinchers for hands could end in tragic embarrassment.

“You came to remove Keith’s Johnson?” Kurt asked with a grin.

“Umm… no, but that option is always on the table,” I said with a laugh. “My reason is far more important than that.”

“What could be more important than my Johnson?” Keith asked, perplexed.

“Tar Stain,” Pirate Sven growled. “Tis not how ye should talk to a lady.”

“My bad,” Keith said. “But I feel it’s a legit question. Should I rephrase it?”

“Nay,” Pirate Sven said, still eyeing me strangely. “Me thinks ye should shut yer cakehole.”

The Pirate knew I was lying. However, I wasn’t sure I could trust the Pirate to keep my secret. Lying sucked. Keeping track of lies was way harder than telling the truth. Whatever. I always kept my word. Plus, I really did have an excellent reason for being here.

“I’m looking for the Kraken Whisperers,” I said, ignoring Pirate Sven’s stare. “And Pirate Doug thinks it might be Keith and Kurt.”

“Ye know Pirate Doug?” Pirate Sven asked.

“I do.”

“Are you dating this Pirate Doug?” Keith yelled and slammed the bowl of chips down on the table causing them to fly everywhere.

“Umm… no,” I said, trying not to laugh at the absurdity. “However, if I was I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“Can he cook?” Keith demanded.

“Aye he can,” Pirate Sven said with an evil little smirk. “And the old scallywag also knows how to wash his grundies and keep a clean house.”

Well, that was pushing it a little. My guess was that Pirate Sven had never been on my brother-in-law’s ship…

“Motherfucker,” Keith yelled as got up and went to the front closet. He grabbed a vacuum, a broom and a rake.

Why did he need a rake?

In a huff of seriously misplaced jealousy, Keith did the shittiest job of cleaning up his mess I’d ever witnessed. He stared at me the entire time so I didn’t miss a second of his efforts. It was so wrong it was all kinds of right. My insides tingled hoping this meant he really liked me.

“Done,” he shouted and then proceeded to rake the carpet like a madman.

It took everything I had not to tell him Pirate Doug was mated to my sister, but I held my tongue. I needed to focus on the matter at hand, not getting into Keith’s pants. Not to mention maybe that was all he wanted from me… Maybe Keith’s true love was still out there. The thought was so horribly depressing I pushed it away. I could still save my sisters and my island even if my ever after wasn’t so happy after all.

“So little Mermaid, ye think the eejits can whisper to the Krakens?” Pirate Sven said, seating himself on the couch and looking away from the disastrous clean up job Keith was performing.

I was pretty sure it must be killing the old Pirate, but he was doing the best he could.

“I hope so,” I said. “My Island is about to be attacked by an army of Krakens in three days. I was sent here to find the Kraken Whisperers and get their help.”

“Wait a minute,” Keith shouted, throwing the rake and breaking a lamp. “You didn’t come here because you couldn’t forget how freakin’ fantastic and enormous my Johnson was and still is?”

“Umm…” I didn’t know exactly what to say to that. It kind of awkward with his brother and Pirate Sven sitting in the room. “You have a…umm… very, umm… nice Johnson.”

“Better than Pirate Doug’s?” Keith demanded.

Pirate Sven’s belly laugh clued me into the fact that he was definitely aware that Pirate Doug and I were not an item. The old Crab was enjoying the show—a little too much.

“Could we please have a moment alone?” I asked Kurt and Pirate Sven.

“Aye,” the Pirate said and grabbed Kurt by the collar of his shirt. “Come on Tar Stain number two. We’re gonna let the lass talk to the eejit.”

“Can we eavesdrop?” Kurt whispered as Pirate Sven tossed him out the front door.

“Nay, ye yellow bellied finless shark swisher. Ye are gonna get started on the laundry.”

“How is that fair?” Kurt grumbled. “Keith gets to talk to a beautiful Mermaid and I get to wash clothes? Life fucking sucks.”

“Quit yer bitchin’,” Pirate Sven grunted as they disappeared outside.

“Am I in trouble?” Keith whispered, covering his Johnson with the bowl that formerly held the kale chips.

“You are,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “Do not ever in this lifetime ask me about your Johnson in front of people again. Next time you do that, I will zap your ass.”

“Will it hurt?” he asked, biting back what I was sure was a smile.

“Yep.”

“Can I make an observation?” he asked, letting the sexy little grin pulling at his lips widen.

Dang it, all I could look at was his mouth. His lips were so damned kissable and I was well aware that he could do incredible things with that mouth. I needed to focus. If I was going to save the day, I couldn’t get fixated on the gorgeous Selkie no matter how much I wanted to.

“Is it about your Johnson?” I asked, slapping my hands on my hips and so I wouldn’t use them to blast his Johnson off his body. As angry as I was with him, I really did like his Johnson.

“Not exactly,” he hedged.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“We’re alone,” he pointed out.

“So?”

“So can we talk about my Johnson now?”

“NO. We cannot talk about your Johnson,” I snapped and turned around so he wouldn’t see that I was trying not to laugh. The Selkie was every kind of inappropriate and ridiculous and I loved it.

“How about this?” Keith bargained. “You give me a chance to prove I’m a better bet than Pirate Doug. Let me show you how much I’ve improved… or how much I plan to. I just started so I’m still a little iffy on the skills.”

“You would do that for me?” I asked, wanting to jump his bones and tell him he was mine.

“Ariel, since the night we boinked, all I’ve thought about was you. I really tried not to because dreaming about a Mermaid that tried to lop off my Johnson is a little nightmare inducing… but I can’t get you out of my mind. I don’t want to get you out of my mind.”

“Really?” I whispered.

“Really. And I’ve had a tremendously shitty day. My parents deserted Kurt and me and left us to starve to death. I blew up the kitchen with the microwave. I almost had to touch lobster balls and I found out my Poseidon given gift was talking to fucking fish. But the upside of that is I now have a job—a weird one, but that kind of fits. However, I’m a little off my game right now. Also, I drew a mustache and zits on Kevin Costner and I’m feeling kind of bad about that. Finding you dead on the beach was like a fucking spectacular dream come true.”

The sentiment was good even if the words were wonky. “Wait. Kevin Costner let you draw a mustache and zits on him?” I asked, confused.

“No,” Keith explained. “The grumpy jackhole Pirate has a Waterworld obsession along with a fixation on Mormon dust bunnies. He has a fucking frightening enormous poster of Kevin Costner in his bedroom and I might have taken a green marker to it.”

“That’s creepy,” I said with a shudder.

“That I drew on Kevin Costner?”

“No, that Kevin Costner watches Pirate Sven sleep.”

Keith’s grin couldn’t have been any wider and his joyous laugh filled the room. I had no idea what I’d said to make him so happy, but it felt awesome.

“What do you think of the movie Waterworld?” he asked.

“I think it sucks ass,” I replied before I could stop myself. I hoped like hell it wasn’t his favorite movie. It would simply not work out for us if that were the case.

“You. Are. Perfect,” he shouted and picked me up and swung me around like a doll.

Squealing with laughter, I’d never felt more alive. It was freakin’ fantastic and then it got even better.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said. “I have to.”

“We can’t,” I whispered as I quickly pushed him away. It was one of the hardest things I’d done to date.

“Is Pirate farking Doug coming between us?” he demanded, pouting.

It took everything I had not to fall to the floor in hysterics. “Umm… no,” I said, biting back my giggle. “It’s because I have to save the day. I can’t let the Mystical Isle be destroyed by Krakens. It’s my home and my sisters and friends are there.”

Keith pressed his forehead to mine and sighed. I almost stripped him naked and rode him like a sea horse, but thankfully he started to speak.

“How about this? I help you with the Krakens and then you let me woo you,” he said, so excited that my heart fluttered. “I will prove that I’m far superior to Pirate Doug and then we can have a Johnson party to celebrate. Sound good?”

“Yes,” I said, laughing. “That sounds perfect.”

Maybe, just maybe I could make him fall in love with me for me. No Mermaid magic involved.

Maybe…

12

Keith

Staring at Ariel was my new favorite hobby. She was magnificent in the blue sarong and sequined bikini top that Pirate Sven had whipped up for her on his sewing machine. I was a little horrified at the fact that the Pirate had a sewing machine and knew how to use it, but I kept my cakehole shut since I knew how hard the Crab could punch. Ariel was so delighted with the creation it had me wondering if I should learn how to fucking sew.

The early morning sunlight caught her wild blue hair and made it shine like the sea. Her matching eyes sparkled and her excitement made me feel like I had a freakin’ purpose in life. It also made my pants extremely uncomfortable. My Johnson had been on high alert since the moment I found her dead on the beach. All of these feelings were strange, and required thinking which I believed to be overrated, but I planned on winning. If thinking was involved, so be it.

There were only two ways Ariel could have gotten to Paradise. One, someone who lived on the island would have had to bring her here. Not a possibility. They would have stayed and made sure she was okay. Selkies might be a violent bunch of assholes, but we all had a soft spot for injured innocents and sexy Mermaids.

Two…

Number two was interesting. It had to do with a Selkie legend that I’d thought was a myth. However, right now I was praying to Poseidon’s inebriated ass it wasn’t. If Ariel had cried seven tears into the ocean, the waves would have picked her up and brought her to her true love—which had better be me.

I wasn’t quite sure if she was aware of this and I didn’t want to freak her out. I’d known she was mine the minute I’d laid eyes on her the first time we’d met. I’d just screwed it up. Seeing her again solidified it. This time I was going to get the girl. I just needed her to give up her affections for the Pirate Doug motherfucker and realize I was her Selkie true love.

“Here are the rules,” Pirate Sven announced as we stood on the deck of his ship that he kept moored at the Paradise Island dock. “Ye will lift the toilet seat when ye take a whizz. Ye will put it back down when ye are done so the wee lassie doesn’t fall in.”

“I can do that,” Kurt said. “Although it might be helpful if you put directions above the toilet.”

“Aye, good thinking,” Pirate Sven said, nodding with approval.

Kurt was such a douche nozzle kiss ass. Remembering to put the seat down was going to be difficult for me, but I would try.

“Is it okay if we whizz off the side of the ship?” I inquired. It would save me from leaving the seat up and getting my butt handed to me by both Pirate Sven and Ariel. My ideas were outstanding.

“Well, if ye whizz in the wind thars a fine chance it will blow back and ye will smell like peepee. The choice is yars, Tar Stain,” Pirate Sven said with a chuckle.

Maybe my ideas weren’t that outstanding. Shite.

The wind was picking up and the foamy tipped waves rocked the anchored ship. Whizzing off the side was out. Smelling like peepee wasn’t going to help me seduce my Mermaid.

I’d gotten very little sleep since the old Crab made Kurt and me sleep on crappy uncomfortable cots in his room—very clean but seriously uncomfortable. Fucking Kevin Costner had given me the evil eye all night—totally creepy.

Thankfully Pirate Sven thought ole Kev looked good with a mustache and freckles. There was no way in Poseidon’s salty sea I was going to correct him and explain they were zits.

I had a job and a purpose in life now. For some stupid reason I wanted the Crab’s approval as much as I wanted my Mermaid’s affections—and to see her naked.

Pirate Sven had given Ariel the guest room and forbade me from sneaking in there. The motherhumper slept with his dang eyes open and every time I’d tried to slip out and see my Mermaid, he’d walloped me on the head. Not real conducive to a good night’s rest.

“Do you know how to get to the Mystical Isle?” Ariel asked the Crab.

“Do the peg-legged salty nards of a frigate dodging scuttle hound smell like dish soap?” Pirate Sven questioned.

We all stood silently and tried to figure out what the hell he’d just said.

Shaking his head, he sighed. “Aye. I know how to take ye to the Mystical Isle. Used to court a Sea Hag not far from the Isle.”

“I’m sorry. What?” Ariel choked out. “A Sea Hag?”

“Aye,” Pirate Sven said. “Do ye know of a bonny lass by the name of Bony Velma Dustface?”

Ariel went slightly pale and nodded her head.

“Do ye know if she is being wooed by anyone at the moment?”

“I’m gonna say no to that one,” Ariel told him.

“Me likes yer answer. Me thinks I might pay Bony Velma a visit when we get there,” he said with a satisfied grin and then off went to prepare the ship.

“Sweet Poseidon in a bra and panties,” Ariel choked out on a whisper. “Bony Velma smells like Hell on garbage day in August. I can’t see Pirate Sven popping that.”

“The Crab has no sense of smell,” Kurt said. “He told me last night when I was forced at fist point into doing our fucking laundry. Which by the way, asssprinkler—you’re welcome.”

“Thank you crotch rocket blaster,” I told my brother with a grin.

My clothes weren’t quite as soft and sweet smelling as when our mother washed them, but they were clean.

“Was it hard?” I asked, curious.

“Nope,” Kurt replied, ridiculously proud of himself. “Way easier than using the fucking microwave. You just set a fire, put a pot of water on it and throw the clothes in.”

“Interesting,” I said. “What say you I learn to cook and you wash our grundies?”

“Deal.”

“I guess it’s a Pirate thing,” Ariel muttered, shaking her head.

“What?” I asked, wondering if she would sneak down to a cabin below with me.

“Boiling your clothes,” she replied with a giggle. “It’s how Pirate Doug, Thornycraft, Upton and Bonar wash their clothes.”

Closing my eyes, I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose and reminded myself that it probably wouldn’t earn me any points to throw a shite fit of epic proportions. Now she tells me she’s dating four Pirates? And one is named Bonar? Whatever. I was a Selkie. Selkies were superior to Pirates in every way. I would out cook, out clean and out fornicate any Pirate any day of the week.

“I’d prefer you not talk about your other boyfriends in front of me,” I ground out through clenched teeth.

“Really, buttwaffle?” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Yesssss,” I hissed.

“Fine,” she said with a shrug and lifted her middle finger.

“Good one, Ariel,” Kurt said, congratulating my Mermaid on the buttwaffle insult. I thought it was impressive as well, but I wasn’t about to admit it.

“Shut it, Kurt you hairy rectum bomb,” I said. “This is between me and the one who coined the term buttwaffle.”

“So you don’t want me to talk about my other boyfriends?” she inquired as her blue hair began to blow around her head signaling that she was pissed or an explosion was imminent.

It was all kinds of sexy.

“Nope,” I said. “The more you talk about your other paramours, the more I will have to kill them. You feel me?”

Her grin widened and I grew wildly confused. Mermaids were nuts. I mean, Selkies weren’t exactly stable, but…

“You’re gonna love Thornycraft, Upton and Bonar,” she sang as she skipped off to help the Crab set the sails.

“Motherfucker,” I muttered. “I’m going to have to kill four Pirates.”

“I don’t think so, scrotum pancake,” Kurt said with a laugh.

“You think I should just let all her boyfriends live, raw cookie-dough balls?” I demanded.

“Umm… if you listened to what you said, and then to what she said, you’d understand, ass hair cupcake,” Kurt said.

“Does it require thinking?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“Can you interpret for me?” I asked.

“I could…” he said slowly. “However, if I do then you’ll have to cook and wash the grundies.”

“You suck gaping cracks.”

“Thank you. Deal?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Deal,” I huffed. Wooing my Mermaid was going to be the end of me.

“You told her not to talk about her boyfriends in front of you,” Kurt announced.

“I know that,” I snapped.

“And then she said fine.”

“If you’re just going to repeat the conversation, I’ll be forced to tie your Johnson into a knot and kick your sorry ass overboard.”

“Stay with me, buttmunch,” Kurt said with a laugh. “So then she mentioned all the Pirates again. Which means none of them are her boyfriends.”

I froze. Kurt was fucking brilliant. “Are you sure about this?” I asked, feeling elated.

“Pretty sure. I’d bet my Jason Momoa Aquaman action figure on it. I think she likes you.”

“She didn’t mention Pirate fucking Doug,” I pointed out.

“Damn, that sucks, but now you only have to kill one Pirate instead of four.”

“Dude,” I whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was looking. “I love you, dickbrains. And I’m sorry I cut all the waistbands off of your underpants.”

“You did?”

I nodded and tried like hell not to grin. I actually was sorry, but it was still funny.

Kurt also did the cursory scan before he spoke. “I love you too, jackhole. I’m sorry that I glued all the pee holes of your boxer briefs shut. And now I’m really sorry because I’m going to steal all your underpants because you fucked mine up.”

We stood silently together and contemplated life and our new underpants issues. My brother was far more important than boxer briefs and it was excellent that I only had to take on one Pirate instead of four. Things were looking up. Kind of…

“Do you love her?” Kurt whispered.

Without a pause, I nodded. “I do—from the first minute I saw her, but I think she loves another.”

“Pirate Doug?” Kurt asked.

“Yep.”

“In my opinion, you’re a far better bet,” Kurt said. “Selkies are way better boinkers than Pirates—it’s a known fact. And now you have a job and can cook, clean and wash clothes.”

“Dude, I can’t cook or clean or wash clothes,” I pointed out.

“Yet,” Kurt said with a grin. “Not yet, snot head.”

He was right and I let myself breathe a sigh of relief. My brilliant brother was correct. I was a good catch in progress. A man who could boink like me and who could make kale chips and hummus would be impossible for a Mermaid to pass up. I hoped…

“And we’re going to help her save the day. That will seal the deal,” Kurt added.

“Have you dealt with a Kraken before?” I asked my brother.

“Nope. I’ve seen the slimy bastards, but never talked to one.”

I paused and tried to recall if I’d ever conversed with one of the freaks. I’d had several interesting exchanges with an octopus named Dan, but no Krakens.

“Ariel said that one attacked their island six months ago and they killed it, but it took the magic of a shitload of immortals,” I said, placing my hands on the ships railing and looked out at the vast sea.

“And they think we can talk sense into a bunch of seriously butt ugly freaks of nature?” Kurt asked, joining me.

“Yep. I think it’s a long shot, but I’m in.”

“Me too,” Kurt said. “Can you imagine the look on mom and dad’s faces if we pull off a negotiation like this? The old man can’t call us losers anymore. Although, I’d hate to kill a bunch of Krakens. Don’t even know if we can kill an army of Krakens. Do you know how many?

“Nope, but if we have to, we can. Kill them, that is. We can just dig deep and use the mac daddy of our magic,” I said.

“Yep, and if we do that, we could also accidentally drain the ocean and kill a bunch of innocent sea creatures at the same time, dude.”

I nodded curtly and pondered the situation ahead. It was risky to go at the Krakens with magic. Kurt was correct. We could do massive amounts of damage to everything we loved if it came to a death match. Shite.

“We’re just going to have to pull it out of our asses as we go,” I said, with far more confidence than I felt. The last time I pulled a plan out of my ass, Pirate Sven almost beheaded himself over Mormon dust bunnies. My ass plans did not have a great track record.

“Sounds like a plan,” Kurt said. “A shite plan, but I don’t have a better one, bro.”

“Then an ass yank it is.”

May Poseidon bless our asses.

13

Ariel

“So are ye going to tell him, little Mermaid?” Pirate Sven asked as he turned the ancient and well-polished crank to pull up the anchor.

“Tell who what?” I asked, feigning innocence. Dang it, was the Crab Pirate a mind reader?

The grizzly old Pirate shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as he took the helm of the ship and guided us out to sea. “Suit yerself.”

I stopped tying slipknots and stared at my hands for a long moment. I was on a Pirate ship—a clean one that smelled nice. I was on the open waters on an adventure. I was going to defend my island and my family. The man I was meant to be with was here—calling his brother names that should be reserved for third grade human boys. I was living my dream, but…

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

“Well, I’ll tell ye this, lassie, ye can’t get to Paradise alone. There are two ways to park yer arse on the island. Either someone brought ye here or…”

“Or?” I asked, wondering if Pirate Sven knew the particulars of the Selkie legend.

“Or ye cried seven tears into the sea and the fates brought ye here.”

“Umm… about that,” I said, deciding to go for it. He knew anyway. “Does it go both ways?”

“Not following ye,” he said.

“Okay. Let’s just say for shits and giggles that I did cry seven tears into the sea and got whipped up into a violent tsunami that parked my arse on Paradise because my true love was maybe, possibly, hypothetically here …Does that mean I’m his true love too or is he just my true love? Because it would be all kinds of awkward if I wasn’t his and he was mine. It would make me stabby and that’s not my best look.”

“Methinks I followed that, but I’m not sure. All I can say is this. When ye live as long as we do, the days, weeks, months, years and centuries all start to blend together at some point. Every cardigan-wearin’, smack-talkin’, clam-diggin’, son of a sea dog has to make thar way without losing thar mind. The only thing that makes the day worth living is love. Or a marathon of Waterworld.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I pointed out while biting back my review of Waterworld.

“Aye,” he said with a smile. “That’s because I don’t have an answer for ye. Them thar Selkies are an odd bunch. I couldn’t tell ye what the rules are. I’m a Crab Shifting Pirate. If ye want to know about that, I can regale ye with yarns all day.”

“Umm… maybe some other time,” I told him politely. If his stories were anything like Pirate Doug’s I would avoid listening like the plague. “So you think I should tell him he’s my true love?”

“I think that while fate might have plans, ye can control yer own fate,” he replied cryptically. “Make yer own way, little Mermaid. If ye don’t jump, ye can’t fall.”

“That was pretty deep,” I told him.

“Thank ye.”

“Welcome, but you still didn’t answer the question.”

“Why don’t ye get to know the eejit?” Pirate Sven suggested.

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“What if ye don’t like him?” he countered.

“Too late,” I whispered and let my chin drop to my chest. “He’s a warrior. He’s hot. He loves animals. He’s hot. He’s got dimples—I love dimples. He’s hot. He has a cool job and he makes me laugh. He’s hot. He loves the ocean and adventures. He’s hot. His mom said his favorite movie is Sharknado. He’s hot. He’s learning to cook. He’s hot. He can boink like a…”

“Ye can stop right there. I get the picture,” Pirate Sven said with a grin and a shake of his big head. “Ye know his mum?”

“Oh crap,” I said as I slapped my hands over my mouth. “I’m not supposed to tell him they moved to the Mystical Isle. That was her request.”

“Yer secret is safe with me, little Mermaid. And trust me, I understand his mum’s reasoning. Although Tar Stain and his eejit brother are very different Selkies than they were yesterday.”

“I’m not sure I can tell him he’s my true love,” I whispered.

“Are ye a weenie or a Mermaid?” Pirate Sven demanded with his grey grizzly brows raised high.

“I’m a kick ass little Mermaid,” I said.

“Then I’d suggest ye go kick some arse,” Pirate Sven recommended.

“I think I will.”

* * *

“I need to talk to you,” I told Keith as I grabbed him by the hand and yanked him toward the stern of the ship.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked. “Every time a girl person says they want to talk, I end up having to run for my immortal life.”

“You’re not in trouble, but I might be,” I said.

“Did Pirate Doug find out about us?” he asked. “Cause I would be fucking stoked to kick his ass into the next century.”

“Umm… no,” I said, with an eye roll. I’d thought I’d cleared that one up already. “We’re going to get to know each other better.”

“Sounds good to me and my Johnson,” Keith said with a huge grin. “But maybe we should go below.”

“Nope, the deck is just fine.”

“Kinky. I like it,” he shouted and followed me like a puppy.

I rolled my eyes again and laughed. He was nuts and he also was very mistaken. Whatever. I was going to follow the advice of the old man with pincher hands. If I was going to make Keith fall for me, he needed to know what he was jumping into first.

* * *

“Wait,” Keith said, looking confused and all kinds of sexy as he paced up and down the deck. “So when you said we’re going to get to know each other you didn’t mean naked and sweaty?”

“Umm… no,” I said with a giggle while watching him with barely restrained lust. My girlie bits were not pleased with the plan of action at all. “We actually already know each other naked and sweaty. We need to know more than just how spectacularly boinkable we are together.”

“And this is important to you?” he asked, perplexed. “Why?”

“Because you can’t base a relationship on a great boink,” I said, wondering if that was even true. What did I know about relationships? I’d never really been good at them. I was a little too hot headed and Johnson-lopping happy. “There has to be respect and trust too.”

“This is news to me,” Keith said, nodding. “Is this like a test?”

“No. There are no wrong answers as long as we tell the truth,” I replied.

“Thank the Gods for that,” he shouted with his arms raised to the Heavens. “I’m far better at boinking than thinking.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Everything the dummy did was delightful to me.

“I’ll go first. My favorite color is blue. What’s yours?”

“Blue,” he said.

“Okay… my favorite movie is Sharknado. What’s yours?”

“Sharknado.”

“You don’t have to answer the same,” I told him. “You don’t lose points if we’re different.”

“I told the truth,” he said with a lopsided grin that made my breath catch in my throat.

Focus. Focus on talking not boinking. This is how to make it work… I think.

“How about you talk about you and then I’ll talk about me?” I suggested, worried that the next thing out of my mouth would be that I’ll show him mine if he’ll show me his.

“Okay. Well, my favorite time of the day is twilight. Insulting my brother brings me great joy and early this morning I cut all the elastic out of his underpants. I was diagnosed as a vegetarian about seventy years ago due to the fact I can’t eat what I can converse with. I think Aquaman is a god—more specifically Jason Momoa as Aquaman—and as you already know I can talk to freakin’ fish.”

“I think all that’s amazing,” I told him on a happy sigh. He was perfect—although I made a mental note to hide my panties. I quickly sat on my hands so I didn’t grab him, throw him down on the deck and stick my tongue down his throat. “I can send thoughts to the sharks, but I can’t hear them speak.”

“I’d be happy to interpret for you,” he said.

“And I’d be happy to teach you how to use a real washing machine so you won’t set your clothes on fire from using a pot over an open flame,” I promised.

His grin was positively lethal. The dimples in his cheeks made my heart skip a beat. Gods, I wanted him to love me.

“Do you happen to know how to work the deadly microwave?” Keith inquired, looking a bit terrified.

“Yep. I do,” I said with a laugh. “I can teach you. Tell me something you’ve never told anyone. Tell me a secret.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, looking alarmed.

“Nope. I’m Ariel… actually… I’m Joan,” I said, wrinkling my nose in dismay. “That’s one of my secrets. My sisters are the only ones who know that.”

“Joan is a beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful Mermaid.”

“Really?” I asked, sure he was pulling my leg—or my fin. However, his words were like freakin’ foreplay. My lady bits were dancing with anticipation.

“Really. Joan of Arc—major kick ass warrior. You’re just like her, charging in and saving your island and your people.”

My knees almost buckled with desire. But my Selkie was just getting started.

“Joan Cusack—majorly hilarious actress. You’re funny and sweet. And your rack is outstanding.”

Again, I felt breathless. I loved Joan Cusack. And the part about my rack made me all tingly. It wasn’t exactly poetry, but it was all kinds of awesome.

“Joan Jett—fucking kick ass rock and roll goddess. You are so a Joan,” Keith announced with a thumbs up. “And you’re way hotter than any of them.”

I was almost done. I was ready to just do him in broad daylight on the stern of the ship with the entire world watching. This man loved my horrible name. Unreal.

“Pirate Doug is my sister’s mate,” I burst out. I no longer wanted to hide behind anything or anyone. I wanted to clear up his ridiculous misunderstanding. I was ready to kiss the boy and make him mine.

“Umm… okay,” he said, looking at me strangely. “Does she know?”

“Know what?” I asked, confused.

“That you’re banging her Pirate?”

“You think I would bang my sister’s Pirate?” I shouted.

“Umm… is there a correct answer here?” Keith asked looking wildly unsure of himself.

“Yes. Yes there is,” I snapped and zapped his perfect ass with a blast of blue sparkly magic.

“Ouch,” he shouted and hopped around the deck. “You said there were no wrong answers on this test.”

“This isn’t part of the test,” I shouted back at him. “This is real life.”

“Real life is all the time,” he argued as he expertly dodged another searing stream of magic from my fingertips. “First, you tell me you’re dating Pirate fucking Doug and now you tell me he’s your sister’s mate. What am I supposed to think here?”

“Thinking is overrated,” I snapped. “Did I actually ever say I was dating Pirate Doug?”

Keith stopped and squinted his eyes for a moment, apparently in deep thought. “Umm… no?”

“Correct.”

“Gods, I’m so glad I got that right. That blue magic smarts like a motherfucker,” he said and then jumped behind a barrel when he saw my expression.

“You assumed I was dating him. And then you believed I would boink my sister’s mate. You could never love a person who you thought could do something that awful,” I yelled, and swiped at my tear filled eyes.

“Is that a question?” he asked looking like a tuna on a fishhook.

“No,” I said sadly, unable to look at him. “It was a statement. I was just hoping… Never mind. We should make plans of attack now anyway. Talk time is over.”

“No. Talk time is not over,” Keith said. “Clearly I fucked up here. I’m still not quite clear how, but I know I did. There’s something I need to tell…”

“All hands on deck,” Pirate Sven shouted at the top of his lungs. “Krakens dead ahead.

“Shite,” Keith swore. “We’re not finished talking, Joan—not now—not ever.”

“Get yarr sorry arses up here NOW. We’ve got more problems than the Krakens,” the Pirate bellowed.

“Let’s go,” I said. “We’ve got a battle on our hands. I just hope we live to tell about it.”

“We’re gonna live,” Keith said, sprinting ahead of me. “We have everything to live for.”

I wasn’t sure I heard his last sentence correctly. It was probably wishful thinking.

So much for thinking he could love me. Sadly, his opinion of me didn’t make my love for him fade. I was so screwed.

14

Keith

Women were crazy and Mermaids were downright insane. For the love of Poseidon’s rum soaked ass, I would have done a lot better on a written exam than an oral one. Words could sink ships and so could fucking Krakens.

Shite.

“What’s the problem?” I shouted as I skidded to a halt next to a strangely calm Pirate Sven.

“Krakens. Six of them and thar looking a wee bit pissed,” the Crab said, steering the ship straight toward the slimy bulbous freaks. “We’re about ten minutes from the bastards.”

“You’re sure we want to head right for them?” I asked.

“Best defense is offense, Tar Stain,” he grumbled.

“Fine point. Well made,” I said, feeling my adrenaline spike. My body tingled and my magic was just below the surface.

“Dude, we have a bigger shit show right now,” Kurt said, leaning over the railing.

“Tell me about it,” I grumbled. “Joan thinks that I thought she was popping her brother-in-law. But that’s what I thought she’d said. Turns out she never actually said it. So while I was understanding what I didn’t understand, I realized I didn’t understand anything—at all. I’m pretty sure she hates me. Now I’m fucked.”

“What the hell are ye babbling about and who is Joan?” Pirate Sven demanded, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

“I’m Joan,” Ariel aka Joan aka the one who shot vicious blue sparkles at asses announced as she arrived on the scene.

Kurt shrugged and laughed. “As much as I’d love a play-by-play of whatever happened, we have a situation—a bad one.”

“What?” I asked, wondering how much worse the day could get.

“Look,” he replied pointing at the water surrounding the ship.

Apparently, it could get way fucking worse. My breath caught in my throat and my stomach sank. What the hell was happening? Why were hundreds of sea creatures swimming alongside of the ship?

“They want to help us,” Kurt said in a panic. “This is not good.”

“Motherfucker,” I snapped, recognizing a few of the dolphins, sea turtles and sharks. “Dudes, go home. You’re all going to die if you don’t. We can’t protect your asses if we’re going after the Krakens. You feel me?”

“Youse got nothin’ to worry about,” Don Guido shouted above the increasingly violent waves crashing against the ship. “Weese are here for youse.”

“Damn it,” I yelled. “Don Guido, I just repaired your nards. You should be begging Stella’s forgiveness. Not taking your last fucking swim. GO HOME.”

“Who is he talking to?” Joan asked.

“Don Guido,” Pirate Sven confirmed. “Lobster—Good friend of his that can’t keep his pecker in his shell. Same one that got castrated by his fifth wife and current mistress—total eejit.”

“Got it,” she replied and joined Kurt and me at the rail of the ship.

“Joan,” I said, angling my body so I was slightly behind my brother just in case she was still in the ass zapping mode. “I want you to go down below. You’ll be safer and if the ship goes down you can swim to safety.”

“Say that again,” Joan ground out between clenched teeth as her wild blue hair began to blow and her skin started to shimmer.

Gods, she was hot when she was pissed. “Umm… which part?” I asked, knowing I’d stuck my foot in my mouth again.

“Rectum knob,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “Mermaids are almost as deadly as we are. I’m thinking you just insulted her. You’re batting zero right now.”

“Shite,” I muttered. I couldn’t help myself. I was worried sick about Don Guido and the rest of the nards that were swimming alongside us. I’d be horrified if they didn’t make it. However, I wouldn’t want to see tomorrow if Joan didn’t make it.

My Mermaid stood tall and proud. Unfortunately my Johnson took notice. It was going to be a bit awkward to negotiate with a boner, but…

“I’m not going anywhere. This is my fight as much as yours. I might not be able to talk to the bulbous jackholes, but I can smack down like no one’s business,” she said. “My glitter fish bombs could blow this ship sky high. I got you into this. If we’re going down, I’m going down with you.”

“I hope ye have good aim, little Mermaid,” Pirate Sven said, clearly concerned for his frigate.

“I have excellent aim. Just ask Keith’s ass,” my Mermaid replied with a smirk.

She had a point.

What to do… The potential for dying was looming large. Even though we were immortal we could still bite the dust—literally. The Krakens were about a half-mile away and swimming fast. There was a fine chance that talking to them would solve very little. Should I piss my Mermaid off more?

I was pretty sure she’d said respect and trust were important. But I also thought she’d said she was dating Pirate Doug. Damn it, that invisible fucker had caused more problems for me than Don Guido’s balls had.

Whatever.

I was going to tell her like it was. If she didn’t like it, she could zap my ass again. I healed up quick.

“Here’s the deal, Joan,” I said, quickly scanning the horizon and gauging how far away the enemy was. “I’m sorry I thought you were boinking your brother-in-law. But you’ve gotta cut me a break here. One, I’m not a good test taker.”

“He’s not,” Kurt confirmed. “The only way we got through school was cheating off of Joe Pesci.”

“The actor?” Pirate Sven inquired.

“Nope, a snail shifter,” Kurt replied. “Total dong. Got all the answers wrong—Keith and I got F’s. Disappeared fifty years ago. Heard he went into witness protection for pimping Sea Sponges as human contraception. Lots of babies born while that motherfucker was loose.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to that one,” the Crab Pirate muttered.

“I’m laying it on the line because there’s a slight chance I might not have this opportunity again—ever. So I’m just gonna say it even if it freaks you out… I love you,” I shouted as her mouth dropped open in shock. “I knew the minute I laid eyes on you all those years ago. And more importantly, I know you love me and not that fucking Pirate Doug.”

“Asswhacker,” Kurt cut in. “I believe it’s been established that she wasn’t boinking the Pirate.”

“Right. My bad. I thought you were boinking the Pirate. Just forget that last part. I know that the only way you could have gotten to Paradise was to cry seven tears. Am I right?” I demanded.

“Umm… yes,” Joan said, still looking startled.

“So that means I’m your true fucking love. You feel me? Not Pirate Doug. Wait. Strike that part,” I said, punching myself in the head before Kurt took it upon himself to do it.

“But am I your true love? For real?” she whispered.

“Of course, you are,” I said. “That tear shit wouldn’t have worked if I wasn’t.”

“Are you serious?”

“Nope, I’m Keith, your one and only true fucking love with the fabulous Johnson,” I said with a laugh.

“You’re sure?”

“That my Johnson is fabulous?” I asked.

“No,” she said with an eye roll. “That you love me?”

“Does Waterworld suck hairy donkey balls?” I asked her.

“Hey now,” Pirate Sven grumbled. “Don’t ye be dissin’ my movie.”

Joan’s smile pulled at her gorgeous mouth and I felt tears of relief fill my eyes.

“Sorry, Pirate Sven,” she called out over the now raging wind. “Waterworld sucks hairy donkey balls.”

“Yessssss,” I said as I let a few tears fall. “Hey Pirate, I just cried, you crazy motherhumper. I’m a real man.”

“Aye,” Pirate Sven said with a chuckle. “I believe ye are. However, ye might be a dead man if ye don’t get to work.”

I looked over at my Mermaid—my true love—and I smiled.

“You ready to kick some Kraken ass?” I asked her.

“I am,” she said as she tackled me and laid the most fabulous kiss on my lips that I’d ever experienced. “I’ve been dying to do that since I got here.”

“Save that thought. We’re not dying today and I want a rain check. I’d also like to see your rack and get naked and sweaty. Cool?”

“Cool,” she replied with a giggle.

“We have to get the sea creatures to leave,” Kurt said, still staring in horror at all of our friends speeding through the water ready to defend us.

“No time, Tar Stains,” Pirate Sven shouted. “We’ve got incoming. At least we’re taking them on the open sea and not on the Mystical Isle. If the bastards hit shore they multiply.”

“Well, that’s not going happen if I have anything to do with it. You ready?” I asked my brother.

“Nope, but that’s never stopped me before. Not gonna let it stop me today.”

I grinned and gave him a quick punch to the gut. He followed it up with an excellent right hook to my jaw. “Insult me, you smelly butt balloon.”

“Is that all you’ve got, squirty tool burger?” he shot back with a wide smile.

“You want more, steamy crust freckle?” I asked with a raised brow and a matching smile.

“Always, chunky toe jam warrior.”

“Drooling pudding nugget,” Kurt shouted triumphantly.

“Funky Dookie Twig.”

“I’m ready,” my brother shouted.

“Me too,” I shouted back.

“Me three, hairy sphincter knuckles,” Joan yelled.

“That’s my girl,” I announced with pride at the top of my lungs. “Let’s do this.”

15

Ariel

Life was perfect—well… kind of, sort of. My true love loved me. However, as fanfreakintastic as that was there was a very real potential that we were all about to die.

The Krakens didn’t look like they’d come for a nice chat. I could tell both Keith and Kurt were distracted by the very real chance that all the sea creatures following us could come to great harm or possibly die. The collateral damage that could occur was unacceptable.

I was feeling highly stressed as well, but Pirate Sven had made a good point. At least we were on open water. My family and home were safe—for now.

The Pirate was the only one of our quartet that appeared calm. Weird.

Whatever. I had an idea and I was going for it. I might not be able to negotiate, but I could possibly stop some of the carnage.

I eyed the slimy, bulbous, monsters and narrowed my gaze. The Krakens were enormous—bigger than Pirate Sven’s ship. They were huge greenish heads with legs and punched in faces. Fighting six Krakens was next to impossible. I prayed to Poseidon, Zeus and every other major and minor deity I could think of that talking to them would work… but I doubted it. It was going to take something more. I just didn’t know what and I didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure it out.

But I did know this… the Krakens were not going to destroy my island and they were not going to ruin my happily ever after. I’d been waiting two hundred freakin’ years for my Prince Charming and some ugly, pissed off, swimming buttholes were not going to take that away from me. After another quick prayer to Poseidon, I was ready to roll.

“Duck and hang on,” I shouted to my crew as I raised my arms high and called to the wind.

Blue crystals exploded from my fingertips and the ship stopped its forward motion, coming to a jerky halt that violently threw all of us forward. Making sure no one had gone overboard, I jumped back up and waved my hands in a circular motion. I’d done this a million times, but never in a life or death situation. I did it when we played volleyball with the sharks. They cheated constantly and I’d come up with a foolproof way to keep the toothy bastards on their side of the net—so to speak.

The winds followed my command and I sliced my arms through the air in a downward motion, separating our ship and our fishy friends from the Krakens. There was no way now for the Krakens to swim under the ship and there was no way for the fish to get near the Krakens.

“What did you do?” Keith asked, watching the dolphins, turtles and swordfish bump into something invisible and bounce back in surprise.

“It’s a divider of sorts. I developed it because the sharks are double crossing turd knockers when it comes to water sports,” I told him. “It’ll keep the sea creatures from getting swallowed up by the Krakens.”

“The Mermaid is mine,” Keith shouted with delight and pride. “How long will it last?”

“Umm… I’ve only ever needed it for about fifteen minutes. The sharks always bit through all the volleyballs in the first round.”

“Got it. Joan—my true love—stand by and be prepared to throw glitter fish bombs.”

“Roger that,” I said as I rubbed my hands together in anticipation.

“Pirate Sven, you crabby bastard,” Keith said, sounding every bit the Selkie warrior he was. “You have any special gifts that might help out with the impending shitshow?”

“Aye, Tar Stain. I do. I control something very precious.”

“Wanna share?” Keith asked. “As much as I love the guessing game, I’m a little pressed for time at the moment.”

“Ye just guessed it, eejit,” the Pirate said with a laugh.

“Umm… could you be more specific?” Keith asked, pointing at the growling and screeching Krakens.

“I’m not at liberty to tell ye.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Keith shouted, squinting at the Pirate like he was insane.

“Nay,” the Pirate said with a chuckle. “I’m Pirate Sven.”

“Can you give me a hint?” Keith asked, rolling his eyes.

“Aye. If ye guess it, ye can use it. And if ye don’t, yarr shite out of luck,” the Pirate said. “Until I am measured, I am not known. Yet how ye will miss me when I have flown.”

“You’re a bird!” Kurt yelled triumphantly.

“Nay, dumbarse. Try again.”

“Another hint, you Waterworld loving jacknard?” Keith huffed, keeping his eyes on the teeth gnashing of the Krakens.

Thankfully the invisible net was holding them… for the moment.

“As ye wish,” the Pirate said. “I can control that which is harmless, but can kill ye.”

“You’re a Johnson?” Keith asked.

“Fer the love of Poseidon’s Seven Seas, are ye fucking kidding?”

“Umm… yes?” Keith answered, clearly confused.

I stared at the old Pirate. He was playing a game and he reminded me of someone—a certain green haired freak. But Pirate Sven wasn’t Poseidon in disguise. Nope. He was someone else entirely.

“Is Sven your real name?” I demanded, staring hard at the old Pirate.

“Nay,” he said with a sly little smirk.

“Are you really a Pirate Shifting Crab?” I asked.

“Today I am, little Mermaid.”

If he wanted to play games, we would. And I would win. I had too. I had far too much to lose. “What can fly without wings?” I asked the surprised Pirate.

“Go on, little Mermaid,” he said with a chuckle.

“What will eventually kill even the strongest without lifting a finger to harm,” I asked, wanting to dance around the ship with glee.

“Ye got another, little Mermaid?” Pirate Sven inquired, now smiling wide.

“What is something that’s priceless, but impossible to hold?”

“Ye are far too smart for the Selkie,” he said.

“Maybe,” I agreed. “But I love him.”

“Hello,” Keith yelled in a huff. “Anybody want to clue me in here? I’ve got a little fucking Kraken issue.”

“Pirate Sven isn’t Pirate Sven—at all,” I said. “If I had to take a guess, I’d say his real name his Chronos—the God of Time.”

“I prefer Pirate Chronos—the God of Time,” he corrected me.

“Are you shitting me?” Keith demanded. “You can control time, yet you’re terrified of Mormon dust bunnies?”

“Aye,” Pirate Chronos said with a shudder. “The Mormon dust bunnies are terrifying.”

The screeches of the Kraken’s grew so loud I had to put my hands over my ears. The louder it got the more it sounded like thousands of babies crying. It pulled at my heart, which was odd. There was no way in hell I would go near them, but all my instincts were to comfort them. Wait. Was that possible? Were they crying?

“Do you hear that?” I shouted over the wails.

“How can you miss it?” Kurt asked wincing in pain. “Pretty sure they want to eat us and the ship.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, getting excited as Pirate Chronos watched me with interest.

“What do ye think, little Mermaid?” he asked.

“Here’s what I think. I think they’re in pain. Keith can you tell if they’re in pain?” I asked.

“Have to touch them,” he replied. “That’s a little dicey at the moment. They have some big fucking teeth.”

Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I stood on the deck of the ship and wondered if the old adage of beware of what you wish for was going to bite me in my ass. I wanted adventure. I wanted true love. I wanted dangerous missions. It was all in front of me. And I was pretty sure I knew how to make it all work and get laid later this evening.

If I was wrong. We were all going to end up in Davy Jones’ locker at the bottom of the sea—or in a Kraken’s digestive track.

But if I was right…

“Pirate Chronos, freeze time. Leave Keith, Kurt, you and me able to traverse the spell. Let it affect the Krakens but leave them cognizant enough to speak,” I insisted.

“Are ye sure that’s what ye want?” Pirate Chronos asked, raising a brow.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s what I want. How long will it last?”

“Ten minutes. Ten minutes that ye will never get back. Ten minutes that might haunt ye for the rest of yer immortal life. And ye will owe me a favor.”

I grinned and shrugged. “Not a problem. How about I put in a good word for you with Bony Velma Dustface?”

A burst of delighted laughter came from the God of Time and he nodded with approval. “That will do just fine, little Mermaid.”

“Umm… this is sounding a little iffy,” Keith pointed out.

“You want to see my rack?” I asked him.

“I do,” Kurt volunteered right before Keith walloped him in the head.

“Of course, I want to see your rack,” Keith said as Kurt shook off the blow and flipped off his brother. “What does seeing your rack have to do with negotiating with a Kraken?”

“We need to live in order for you to see my rack,” I told him.

“I see where you’re going with this,” Keith said. “You have a plan?”

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

“With my life,” Keith replied.

“Then as soon as the Pirate freezes the slimy buttholes, you and Kurt go touch them. I don’t think they’re mad. I think they’re hurting,” I said.

Keith and Kurt’s eyes grew wide and an expression of enormous relief crossed their handsome faces.

“We don’t have to pull on the mac daddy of our magic,” Kurt said, so relieved his knees buckled. “We won’t drain the ocean and kill everything we love. This is fucking great.”

“Best damned day of my life,” Keith said staring straight at me. “Let’s do this.”

“On three,” Pirate Chronos yelled over the wind. “One. Two. THREE.”

Gods, I hoped I was right.

I wanted the very thing that I’d told Pirate Chronos to freeze. I wanted time—time with my true love. Time with my family. Time to have more adventures.

And only time would tell if I would get my wish.

16

Keith

I’d never witnessed anything like it and quite honestly I hoped I never witnessed it again. The atmosphere felt like a living death—no joy—devoid of everything I loved about the ocean. Pirate Jackoff aka Pirate Chronos aka the God of Time began to glow so brightly I had to shield my eyes. He grew in size and his short, scraggly, grey beard was suddenly long, white and curly. His pinchers morphed to hands, his eyes sparkled an eerie silver and his breeches were replaced with flowing golden robes.

Of course the robes were pressed…

Thankfully his weird speech pattern stayed the same. There was only so much change I could handle at the moment.

“Holy shite,” I whispered as the grumpy old Pirate’s face turned into a clock. Fucking weird didn’t even begin to describe it.

Chanting in a language I would never understand, the Pirate called on time to cease. And it did. The surface of the ocean stilled to the point it resembled glass. The wind halted and there was no sound other than that of our breathing… and the wailing of the Krakens.

It was now or never.

“Kurt, shift to your seal. Dive over Joan’s volleyball shark net and stay with me,” I instructed. “When we get to the first Kraken, we’ll shift back to human and touch it.”

“That’s gonna be difficult,” Kurt said. “Treading water in human form sucks ass.”

I agreed, but there was no other way. In order to detect injury we needed our hands.

“You guys want a mini island or six?” Joan asked with her eyes alight with excitement.

“You can create a mini island?” I asked, impressed and immensely turned on. My Mermaid was a well-endowed genius.

“I can do lots of stuff, Selkie,” she said with a giggle as she clapped her hands and six tiny islands popped up out of the water—palm tree included. One right in front of each of the wailing and frozen Krakens.

“Dang it,” Kurt groused. “I want a freakin’ Mermaid who has a fantastic rack and can make islands.”

“Get in line,” Pirate Chronos said with a laugh. “Get yerr arses in gear. Time is ticking—pun intended.”

He was right, annoying pun and all.

“Ready?” I asked my brother.

“Always.”

We dove over the railing together and let our seal bodies come out to play. The feel of the cool water as it hit my skin was magical. I heard Joan gasp and laugh with joy as she saw my seal for the first time. I was fucking glad mine was bigger than Kurt’s. Wouldn’t want my Mermaid to be disappointed.

Swimming though the still water was surreal. Kurt kept up with my pace and we landed with a belly flop on the first island. Aquaman would be proud. Jason Momoa had nothing on us. We shifted back to human at the same time. Of course, we were naked. The thought of my Mermaid ogling my backside brought on a rather embarrassing side effect.

“Dude, this turns you on?” Kurt asked, looking alarmed and pointing at my Johnson.

“No, rusty bulge spasm. My Johnson is very aware that my Mermaid is checking out my ass,” I said, flipping him off.

“Oh. Okay. I got worried there for a second,” he said, returning the bird. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” I told him and then gasped in surprise. “Sweet Poseidon in a tutu, Krakens are fucking huge.”

“Understatement,” Kurt mumbled.

“Okay. Let’s do it,” I said, inching toward the Kraken.

“Since I haven’t done this yet, what exactly are we doing?” Kurt asked, looking wildly uncomfortable.

“Honestly, I’m not a hundred percent sure, but when I touched Don Guido I could sense everything that was wrong with the randy little shite. And then I just sent energy to the problem areas.”

“So you didn’t have to touch the balls?” Kurt asked.

“Nope. No nard cupping.”

“Thank Poseidon’s hairy scrotum for that,” Kurt said, sending a thumbs up to the sky. “I was going to pass on the job if it required sac scratching.”

“I feel you,” I said with a shudder. “I say we touch the Kraken together. That way we can compare notes.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Kurt asked.

I wanted to head butt him, but a violent wrestling match—while very satisfying—would waste precious time.

“No. Not cheating. And even if it was do you care? We both cheated our way through school and turned out just fine.”

“Good point,” Kurt said with a grin and a nod.

“Thank you.

“Welcome.”

“Touch the Kraken. Now,” I told him.

And we did. It was slimy and slightly stinky, but mostly it was fascinating.

“Hello from the outside,” I called out.

“Adele?” a gravelly voice called back.

“I don’t sound like Adele,” I snapped. “I’m a dude, you fatass.”

“Sorry my bad. I thought you were singing Hello by Adele. I love Adele,” the Kraken said in a freaky voice that would leave me with nightmares as he continued to whimper.

“No worries,” I assured the Kraken, cautiously patting his slippery skin. “Do you have a name?”

“Do you, lowly Selkie sludge?” he shot back.

I rolled my eyes and Kurt just grinned. “Look dude, you do not want to play that game with us. We will burn your bulbous butt wherever the hell that is. We are the Insult Masters. You feel me, steamy wedgie loaf?”

“Good one,” the Kraken growled. “Mind if I borrow that?”

“Umm… no, go ahead. Have at it.”

“Why am I frozen?” he demanded, grunting and groaning.

“Precaution,” Kurt informed the Kraken. “We want to talk and you look awfully hungry.”

“We have no beef with you,” the Kraken bellowed. “Free us now or you will be sorry. The Great Kraken will grind you up and make panko bread crumbs out of you.”

“Is that like the Great Pumpkin—you know the big orange head that doesn’t really exist?” I asked with a disrespectful smirk.

“No one can insult the Great Kraken,” he screamed and then cried harder. “Free us NOW.”

“No can do, gunky dude,” I told him and moved my hand carefully over his slimy skin. Damn it, I couldn’t feel anything.

“It’s Norm,” the Kraken informed us.

“It’s normal?” I asked, not following.

“No, my name is Norm.”

“Are you serious?” I asked trying not to laugh. It was all kinds of wrong for a Kraken to be named Norm.

“No, Selkie dumbass. I told you. It’s Norm. Are you hard of hearing?”

“Nope. I can hear you and all your buddies crying like weenies loud and clear. I’m gonna guess they can hear you all the way to China with your blubbering.”

“You’d be blubbering too if you have to deal what we have to deal with,” Norm grunted.

“Found it,” Kurt whispered with wide eyes, clearly shocked that my method worked. “It’s the feet.”

“They don’t have feet, nardbucket,” I whispered back.

“I meant the goopy things hanging off their bodies—looks kind of like legs. That’s where the pain is.”

I focused on Norm and let my energy flow through his gigantic frame. Sweet Poseidon on a week-long bender, Kurt was right. Something was very wrong with their tentacles.

“Eight minutes,” Pirate Chronos shouted from the deck of the ship.

“Eight minutes till what?” Norm asked, narrowing his squishy black eyes at us.

“Eight minutes until… umm… tea. Pirates are very anal about tea time,” I lied, starting to get a bit stressed. Could we heal six fatass weirdos in eight minutes?

“No one ever invites us for tea,” Norm lamented, starting to cry again.

I glanced over at Kurt who just shrugged in confusion. The Krakens were nothing like the vicious killers I thought they’d be. They were immense, smelly, blubbering weenies.

“Dude, you’re kind of huge and have a real shite reputation for eating pretty much everything you come across,” I pointed out.

“And your hygiene is a little iffy,” Kurt added.

“I see what you’re getting at,” Norm sniffled.

“Look man, if you want to get invited to tea you have to stop killing stuff. You feel me?”

“That’s all it would take?” Norm asked surprised.

“Well… sure,” I said, looking over at Kurt who was trying not to laugh. “You want to share where you freaks were going today?”

“Will it get us an invite to tea?” Norm inquired.

“Can the Krakens come to tea?” I called out to Pirate Chronos.

“What did ye just say, Tar Stain?”

“I said… can the Krakens come to tea?” I repeated.

“That’s what I thought ye said. Aye, they can come as long as they bring a dish. I’ll have no welchers at me table,” the Pirate said, not missing a beat.

“The Pirate said yes,” I told Norm. “But just a heads up. The old freak rakes his carpets so if you slime on his ship your ass is grass.”

“Thank you, Tar Stain.”

“That’s not my name, buttwash.”

“It’s what the Pirate called you,” Norm said as he began to cry again. “And it fits you well.”

“Fine,” I snapped. “You can call me Tar Stain. However, I got you your invite to tea so now you better tell me where you big ass nards are going.”

“To eat an island,” Norm stated as if that was not a big deal.

“You can’t eat a fucking island,” I told him. “That’s exactly why no one likes you guys.”

“But the Great Kraken said it will heal the pain if we eat the Mystical Isle,” Norm growled.

“Who in the clam shells is the Great Kraken?” I asked.

“He’s our leader. Actually he’s not a Kraken at all. He’s a Sea Slug with little man complex, but he got voted in so we have to follow his orders,” Norm explained.

Unbelievable. These huge idiots had been following orders of a Sea Slug? Wait. A Sea Slug? The chances were slim, but…

“Is his name Joe Pesci?” I asked.

“How did you know?” Norm roared. “No one knows the name of the Great Kraken outside of our species.”

“You’re leader is a dong,” I told him. “A good for nothing badonkadonk sniffer that made my brother and me have to take home ec three fucking times and we still flunked.”

Norm stared at us in shock. It was time to go in for the metaphorical kill—so to speak.

“Look Norm, I’m very aware that you have a foot issue. I might be able to help you with that, but if I do you can’t eat anymore fucking islands.”

“And you can’t follow the orders of a dong sniffer anymore,” Kurt added.

“You can stop the pain?” Norm whispered as huge tears the size of my entire body rolled down his punched in face.

“Yep,” I said, hoping like hell I was telling the truth. Don Guido was small. I wasn’t sure I could help a creature this big, but I was certainly going to try. “Pain free, but you have to turn your bulbous, odiferous lives around. Today.”

“You can help all of us?” he asked, sounding so much like a small child, I wanted to hug him. The only thing holding me back was his funky odor. Well, that and there was no way in Poseidon’s Seven Seas I could get my arms around him.

“We’ll do the best we can,” I promised. “Do I have your word you will not eat the Mystical Isle and you’ll stop worshiping that grizzly fudge twig, Joe Pesci?”

Norm looked to his comrades and they all nodded.

“Good,” I said doing a few quick push ups to get my blood flowing. “And just so you know, I can put that pain right back times ten worse if you jackholes go back on your word.”

“We can do that?” Kurt whispered.

“No clue,” I muttered back. “It just sounds good.”

“You’re fucking brilliant,” he said with a huge grin.

“Hold that compliment until we’re done here, dude. I hope you say the same thing in about five minutes. Here goes nothing.”

Together my brother and I touched each Kraken and let our energy flow through them. One by one, we removed the searing pain from the great beasts. The gasps of joyous and grateful surprise were only drowned out by one thing.

Our laughter.

“What the fuck?” Kurt screamed as he rolled around on the tiny island laughing his fool head off and slapping at his feet.

“Forgot to tell you,” I wheezed out, laughing so hard I was sure I was going to hurl. “The side effect is that it’s ticklish.”

“Holy shite,” he choked out as he fell into the ocean, unable to quell his hysterics. “This completely sucks butt.”

“Agree,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes and punching myself in the head so I would stop laughing.

No luck.

“We are at your service now,” Norm said, no longer crying. “Are you all right Tar Stain?”

“Fine,” I choked out, now only chuckling. “And by the way the name is Keith. Keith the Kraken Whisperer with the outstanding Johnson.”

“And Kurt the Kraken Whisperer—the one who can boink for three days straight,” my brother yelled as his head popped out of the water.

“We are indebted to you. Forever. There are more of us. Will you heal them too?” Norm asked.

“We will, but with the same conditions. You feel me?” I asked, finally calming down.

“We will take a rain check on the tea,” Norm said as the ocean came alive again and time rolled forward. “We must have a little chat with the Great Kraken, Joe Pesci. He is no longer our leader.”

“Tell him the Keith and Kurt told him to fuck himself for lowering our already shitty grade point average,” I said, saluting my new friends.

“Will do, Kraken Whisperer with the outstanding Johnson. Thank you.”

With that the Krakens sank underneath the waves and swam away.

“We did it,” I shouted and blew a kiss to my beautiful blue haired Mermaid.

“I love you!” Joan squealed.

“I love you more,” I shouted back.

“Not possible,” she yelled.

“You guys are gross,” Kurt said, crawling out of the ocean and punching me in the head.

“Just wait, pompous crotch jockey. Your turn is coming,” I said, returning the favor and kicking his legs out from underneath him.

“I sure as hell hope so,” he said wistfully.

I sure as hell hoped so too. I’d never been so ridiculously happy in all of my three hundred years. I wanted the same for my brother.

17

Ariel

“Is my Johnson fabulous or what?” Keith asked with a shit eating grin on his gorgeous face as he strutted around my bedroom in his birthday suit.

“Your Johnson is fabulous,” I agreed with him as I flopped back on my bed with a very satisfied smile on my face.

“Right?” he asked, admiring himself in my seashell framed mirror. “However, your rack beats my Johnson any day of the week. And I mean that. You’re knockers are a fucking work of art.”

My true love was never going to be a poet, but I didn’t care—not one little bit. His words were appalling, but the sentiment was beautiful.

We’d been holed up in my suite the entire day. Neither of us could wait a second longer. The sexual tension was so intense, I’d almost jumped him on the beach before we’d made it to the lodge. Thankfully I spotted Thornycraft, Bonar and Upton headed our way and I thought better of playing hide the Johnson in front of our paying human guests. Seeing Upton lick his nards had been enough trauma for our vacationing residents.

Without saying hello to anyone, we’d hightailed it to my bedroom and got down to business. Kurt and Pirate Chronos had promised to bring everyone up to speed on the Kraken issue and that was more than fine with me.

“May I tempt you with my Johnson… again?” Keith asked as he jumped on the bed and caged me with his big beautiful body.

“You may,” I said with a giggle as I traced his dimples with my finger. “I didn’t know I could be this happy.”

“Me neither,” Keith said with a grin as his lips found my neck and my body shuddered with delight. “How do you feel about the name Jason Momoa?”

“For a dog?” I asked, arching my back and telling him with my body how much I desired him.

“Umm… no,” he said, kissing my neck and making me see stars.

“For you?” I gasped as his teeth nipped at my sensitive skin. “I love the name Keith. Why would you change it?”

“Not for me,” he said.

His breathing became ragged as I slipped my hand between our bodies and gripped his pride and joy in my hand.

“For who?” I asked as I watched his blue eyes darken with need.

His expression alone almost made me orgasm. I couldn’t believe I had the energy. He’d already given me six and I was still ready for more.

“For our son,” he said with a lopsided grin that made my heart skip three beats. “Or if that doesn’t work for you, we could always name him Aquaman.”

“What if he’s a girl?” I asked with a giggle.

“We’ll call her Ariel Joan,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine and smiling. “I want her to have the most beautiful, strongest name in the Universe. I want a tiny blue-haired Mermaid that looks just like her mama.”

I swiped at the tears now rolling down my cheeks. “Our little girl might be a Selkie… or a Merkie.”

“As long she looks like you, I don’t care what she is,” he said as his lips and teeth went back to work.

I closed my eyes and riotous color ripped across my vision. This foul mouthed, slightly immature, triumphant warrior and healer of sea creatures was my destiny. He was my dream—my true love. Who knew I would get so lucky?

“We can name our son Jason Aquaman Keith Momoa,” I cried out as his body joined mine and all was right with the world.

“We can?” he asked.

Keith’s body stilled and he looked as excited as a child on Christmas morning.

“Yep. You better get moving, Selkie. I want my tiny Merkie soon.”

“My pleasure. I love you, little Mermaid,” he said hoarsely as his body began to move with an urgency that made me moan. “I love you. My Johnson loves you. And wait till my parents meet you. They’re gonna love you too—that is if we can ever find the deserters again.”

“Hold that thought, baby,” I said as I flipped my Selkie over and got on top. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Now?” he asked as his eyes hooded with a desire so sexy, little mini orgasms shot through my body making my girlie bits very happy.

“Nope, I’d like to finish what we started here. You cool with that?” I asked as I began to move.

“I am so good with that,” he said grabbing my hips and guiding me to heights I didn’t know existed. “So, so, so, so good.”

And he was.

And we were.

And we practiced making a little Merkie ten more times.

I just prayed to Poseidon I’d be able to walk, but I really didn’t care. My Selkie was definitely correct.

His Johnson was fabulous.

* * *

“What if your sisters don’t like me?” Keith asked as I dragged him across the beach to the waiting crowd of my friends and family.

“They will love you because I do,” I promised.

It was twilight, both Keith’s and my favorite time of the day. A vegetarian luncheon had been planned, but we kind of missed it with all the work we had to do making a little Merkie…

But an early evening party to introduce my true love was every kind of perfect.

Torches lit the area and long weathered teak tables groaned under the weight of the delicious meat and seafood free buffet. Clearly Kate had talked to my sisters about her sons having been diagnosed as vegetarians. I was joining my man. After swimming with Don Guido as Pirate Chronos’ ship made its way to the Mystical Isle, I wasn’t too keen on eating seafood anymore either. Of course, I couldn’t talk to Don Guido like Keith and Kurt could but he was adorable and he gave me a beautiful set of pearls.

Apparently Don Guido had been kicked out of the house by his fifth wife Stella and was lobster non gratia with the mistress Carmella. Keith asked if it was okay if Don Guido lived with us for a bit while he got his manwhore tendencies under control. I said fine. There were some super cute lobster gals living near the Mystical Isle and I was sure Don Guido would make an excellent comeback.

We’d made plans to live on both Paradise Island and the Mystical Isle with adventures galore planned for the foreseeable future. My life was turning out to be pretty awesome. Of course laundry and cooking lessons were on the agenda too. And bizarrely enough my Selkie wanted to learn to sew…

“I could always reveal my Johnson. It’s very impressive,” Keith said, thinking aloud.

“Umm… no. Bad idea,” I said, biting back a groan. I’d clearly complimented his Johnson far too many times if he thought whipping it out in front of my family was a great plan. “Keep your pecker in your pants.”

“Will do. Wait a minute. Am I seeing things?” he demanded, coming to an abrupt halt in the sand.

“What do you see?” I asked.

“What do you see?” he shot back.

“Umm… well I see Pirate Chronos flirting with a seriously stinky and very happy Sea Hag named Bony Velma Dustface,” I told him.

“No, not that,” Keith said, squinting his eyes at the crowd.

“Okay,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I see Kurt in all his glory with a couple of colorful swimming hookers from the island next to ours.”

“No,” Keith said. “Not that, but I’m happy about that one.”

His body leaned forward, but his feet didn’t move. “What else?”

“I see my sisters, Tallulah, Misty and Madison. I see the arses, Thornycraft, Upton and Bonar.”

“Which one is Pirate Doug?” Keith asked forgetting for a moment at what he’d been fixated on.

“The one in the very dated blue breeches, knee high boots and frightening puffy shirt,” I said with a laugh. “He’s with Tallulah—the gorgeous one with the purple hair.”

Keith turned to me and planted a kiss on my lips that made my toes curl. “No one in the world is more gorgeous than you are,” he whispered. “Do you mind if I punch Pirate Doug? The motherfucker caused me a lot of angst. I just think it will be better in the long run if I can deck him first and then get acquainted later.”

“No problem,” I said, grinning. “Lots of people want to punch Pirate Doug. He’s used to it. Is there someone else you see?”

Keith nodded slowly. “Did you know they were here?”

“I did. But I promised your mom that I wouldn’t tell.”

“Figures. They’re not too fond of me.”

“Kate’s the one who told me about the seven tear drops legend. I think she knew we were meant to be before we did,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “She loves you. Your parents just wanted you to grow up. I’ll bet they’re really proud of you now. I am.”

“You don’t know my parents,” he muttered.

“No, but I know you, and if they’re not proud of you and your brother, I will zap their asses and kick them off the island,” I told him.

“You would do that for me?” he asked, running his thumb gently over my kiss swollen lips.

“I would do anything for you. You’re my true love.”

His smile made me breathless and his love made me whole.

“Here’s the plan… It will take approximately fifteen minutes,” Keith said with a spicy little grin pulling at his lips. “I punch Doug in the head—one minute. We say hello to your sisters—three minutes. I make my parents feel really guilty for eight minutes and then I forgive them. I wrestle Kurt and kick his ass for two minutes. We say hello to the clean freak Pirate and his strange gal pal for one minute at a good distance. I can smell her from here.”

“And then what?” I asked, laughing.

“Then we grab some food and go back to our room. We watch Sharknado and boink the rest of the night—or week away.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said.

“A good one?” he asked with a raised brow and a sexy smirk.

“A perfect one,” I said as I copped a quick feel of his rock hard ass. “A perfect end to a perfect day.”

Oh, I knew everything wouldn’t always be seashells and sunshine, but with Keith at my side it would always be an adventure. My Prince Charming with the potty mouth was my idea of heaven on earth. Living for eternity didn’t seem so bleak now.

Pirate Chronos was right. Well, not about Waterworld, but about love.

The only thing that made the day worth living was love.

And I finally had mine.

— The End (for now) —

Note From The Author

Hi. I hope you enjoyed reading Ariel’s Antics. If you enjoyed this ebook, please consider leaving a positive review or rating on the site where you purchased it. Reader reviews help my books continue to be valued by resellers and help new readers make decisions about reading them. You are the reason I write these stories and I sincerely appreciate each of you!

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~ Robyn Peterman

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Excerpt: Fashionably Dead

The Hot Damned, Book 1

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Book Description

Vampyres don’t exist. They absolutely do not exist.

At least I didn’t think they did ‘til I tried to quit smoking and ended up Undead. Who in the hell did I screw over in a former life that my getting healthy equates with dead?

Now I’m a Vampyre. Yes, we exist whether we want to or not. However, I have to admit, the perks aren’t bad. My girls no longer jiggle, my ass is higher than a kite and the latest Prada keeps finding its way to my wardrobe. On the downside, I’m stuck with an obscenely profane Guardian Angel who looks like Oprah and a Fairy Fighting Coach who’s teaching me to annihilate like the Terminator.

To complicate matters, my libido has increased to Vampyric proportions and my attraction to a hotter than Satan’s underpants killer rogue Vampyre is not only dangerous . . . it’s possibly deadly. For real dead. Permanent death isn’t on my agenda. Avoiding him is my only option. Of course, since he thinks I’m his, it’s easier said than done. Like THAT’S not enough to deal with, all the other Vampyres think I’m some sort of Chosen One.

Holy Hell, if I’m in charge of saving an entire race of blood suckers, the Undead are in for one hell of a ride.

Prologue

I drew hard on the cigarette and narrowed my eyes at the landscape before me. Graves, tombstones, crypts... she didn’t belong here. Hell, I didn’t belong here. My eyes were dry. I’d cried so much there was nothing left. I exhaled and watched as the blue grey smoke wafted out over the plastic flowers decorating the headstones.

Five minutes. I just needed five minutes and then I could go back...

“That’s really gross,” Gemma said, as she rounded the corner of the mausoleum I was hiding behind and scared the hell out of me. She fanned the smoke away and eyed me. “She wanted you to quit, maybe now would be a good time.”

“Agreed. It’s totally gross and disgusting and I’m going to quit, regardless of the fact that other than you, Marlboro Lights are my best friend... but today is definitely not the day,” I sighed and took another long drag.

“That’s pathetic,” she chuckled.

“Correct. Do you have perfume and gum?”

“Yep.” She dug through her purse and handed me a delicate bottle.

“I can’t use this. It’s the expensive French shit.”

“Go for it,” she grinned. “You’re gonna need it. You smell like an ashtray and your mother is inside scaring people to death.”

“Son of a... ” I moaned and quickly spritzed myself. “I thought she left. She didn’t want to come in the first place.”

“Could have fooled me,” Gemma said sarcastically, handing over a piece of gum and shoving me from my hiding place.

“Come on,” I muttered, as my bossy best friend pushed me back to my beloved grandmother’s funeral.

* * *

The hall was filled with people. Foldout tables lined the walls and groaned under the weight of casseroles, cakes and cookies. Men and women, most of whom I knew, milled around and ate while they gossiped. Southern funerals were a time to socialize and eat. A lot.

As I made my way through the crowd and accepted condolences, I got an earful of information I could have happily lived without. I learned that Donna Madden was cheating on her husband Greg, Candy Pucker had gained thirty pounds from eating Girl Scout cookies and had shoved her fat ass into a heinous sequined gown, for the funeral no less, and Sam Boomaster, the Mayor, was now a homosexual. Hell, I just wanted to leave, but I had to find my mother before she did something awful.

“I loved her.” Charlie stopped me in my tracks and grabbed my hand in his old gnarled one.

His toupee was angled to the left and his black socks and sandals peeked out from his high-water plaid pants. He was beautiful.

“Me too,” I smiled.

“You know I tried to court her back in the day, but she only had eyes for your Grandpa.” He smoothed his sweater vest and laid a wet one on my cheek... and if I’m not mistaken, and I’m not, he grabbed my ass.

“Charlie, if you touch my butt again, I’ll remove your hand.” I grinned and adjusted his toupee. He was a regular in the art class I taught at the senior center and his wandering hands were infamous.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying. You have a nice ass there, Astrid! You look like one of them there supermodels! Gonna make some lucky man very happy one day,” he explained seriously.

“With my ass?”

“Well now, your bosom is nothing to scoff at either and your legs... ” he started.

“Charlie, I’m gonna cut you off before you wax poetic about things that will get you arrested for indecency.”

“Good thinking, girlie!” he laughed. “If you ever want to hear stories about your Nana from when we were young, I’d be happy to share.”

“Thanks, Charlie, I’d like that.”

I gave him a squeeze, holding his hands firmly to his sides and made my way back into the fray.

As I scanned the crowd for my mother, my stomach clenched. After everything I had to put up with today, the evil approaching was just too much. Martha and Jane, the ancient matriarchs of the town and the nastiest gossips that ever lived were headed straight for me. Fuck.

“I suppose you’ll get an inheritance,” Jane snapped as she looked me up and down. “You’ll run through it like water.”

“Your Nana, God bless her, was blind as a bat when it came to you,” Martha added caustically. “I mean, my God, what are you? Thirty and unmarried? It’s just downright disrespectable.”

“I’m twenty-nine, happily single and getting it on a regular basis,” I said, enjoying the way their thin lips hung open in an impressive O.

“Well, I’ve never,” Jane gasped.

“Clearly. You should try it sometime. I understand Mr. Smith is so vision impaired, you might have a shot there.”

Their appalled shrieks were music to my ears and I quickly made my escape. Nana would have been a bit disappointed with my behavior, but she was gone.

Time to find the reason I came back in here for... I smelled her before I saw her. A waft of Chanel perfume made the lead ball in my stomach grow heavier. I took a deep breath, straightened my very vintage Prada sheath that I paid too much for, plastered a smile on my face, said a quick prayer and went in to the battle.

“Mother, is everything alright?”

She stood there mutely and stared. She was dressed to the nines. She didn’t belong here... in this town, in this state, in my life.

“I’m sorry, are you speaking to me?” she asked. Shit, she was perfect... on the outside. Gorgeous and put together to a degree I didn’t even aspire to. On the inside she was a snake.

“Um, yes. I asked you if... ” I stammered.

“I heard you,” she countered smoothly. “If you can’t bother to comply with my wishes, I can’t be bothered to answer you.”

“Right,” I muttered and wished the floor would open and swallow me. “I’m sorry, I meant Petra. Petra, is everything alright?”

“No, everything is not alright,” she hissed. “I have a plane to catch and I have no more time or patience to make chit chat with backward rednecks. It was wrong of you to ask me to be here.”

“Your mother died,” I said flatly. “This is her funeral and these people are here to pay their respects.”

“Oh for God’s sake, she was old and lived well past her time.”

I was speechless. Rare for me, but if anyone was capable of shocking me to silence, it was my mother.

“So, like I said, I have a plane to catch. I’ll be back next week.” She eyed me critically, grimacing at what she saw. “You need some lipstick. You’re lucky you got blessed with good genes because you certainly don’t do anything to help.”

With that loving little nugget, she turned on her stiletto heel and left. I glanced around to see if we’d been overheard and was mortified to see we had clearly been the center of attention.

“Jesus, she’s mean,” Gemma said, pulling me away from prying eyes and big ears.

“Do I look awful?” I whispered, feeling the heat crawl up my neck as the mourners looked on with pity. Not for my loss, but for my parentage.

“You’re beautiful,” Gemma said. “Inside and out.”

“I need to smoke,” I mumbled. “Can we leave yet?”

Gemma checked her watch. “Yep, we’re out of here.”

“I don’t want to go home yet,” I said, looking around for Bobby Joe Gimble, the funeral director. Where in the hell was he and did I need to tip him? Shit, I had no clue what funeral etiquette was. “Do I have to... ?”

“Already took care of everything,” Gemma told me. “Let’s go.”

“Where to?” I asked. Damn, I was grateful she was mine.

“Hattie’s.”

“Thank you, Jesus.”

* * *

Hattie’s sold one thing and one thing only. Ice cream. Homemade, full of fat, heart attack inducing ice cream. It was probably my favorite place in the world.

“I’ll have a triple black raspberry chip in a cone cup,” I said as I eyed all the flavors. I didn’t know why I even looked at them. I was totally loyal to my black raspberry chip. My ice cream couldn’t talk back to me, break up with me or make me feel bad. Of course, my love could extend the size of my ass, but I wasn’t even remotely concerned about that today. Besides, I planned a very long run for later. I needed to clear my head and be alone.

“Sorry about your loss, Sugar,” Hattie said and I nodded. Her big fleshy arms wobbled as she scooped out my treat. “Do you want sprinkles and whipped cream on that, Baby?”

“Um... ” I glanced over at Gemma who grinned and gave me a thumbs up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Me too,” Gemma added, “but I want mint chip, please.”

“You got it, Sugar Buns,” Hattie said and handed me a monstrous amount of ice cream. “It’s on me today, Astrid. I feel just terrible I couldn’t be at the funeral.”

“That’s okay, Hattie. You and Nana were such good friends. I want your memories to be of that.”

“Thank you for that, Darlin’. Ever since my Earl died from siphoning gasoline, I haven’t been able to set foot near that goddamn funeral parlor.”

I swallowed hard. Her late ex-husband Earl had siphoned gasoline since he was ten. His family owned the local gas station and apparently, as legend had it, he enjoyed the taste. But on the fateful day in question, he’d been smoking a cigar while he did it... and blew himself to kingdom come. It was U-G-L-Y. Earl was spread all over town. Literally. He and Hattie had been divorced for years and hated each other. It was no secret he had fornicated with over half the older women in town, but when he died like that, he became a saint in her eyes.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Hard. Although it was beyond inappropriate, whenever anyone talked about Earl, I laughed.

“Astrid totally understands.” Gemma gave Hattie a quick hug and pushed me away from the counter before I said or did something unforgivable.

“Thanks,” I whispered. “That would have been bad.”

“Yep,” Gemma grinned and shoveled a huge spoon of ice cream in her mouth.

“Where in the hell do you put that?” I marveled at her appetite. “You’re tiny.”

“You’re a fine one to talk, Miss I Have the World’s Fastest Metabolism.”

“That’s the only good thing I inherited from the witch who spawned me,” I said and dug in to my drug of choice. I winced in pain as my frozen ice cream ass-extender went straight to the middle of my forehead.

“Are you okay?” Gemma asked.

I took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. God, I hated brain freezes. “No, not right now, but I’ve decided to change some stuff. Nana would want me to.”

My best friend watched me silently over her ice cream.

“I’m going to stop smoking, get a real career, work out every day, date someone who has a job and not a parole officer, get married, have two point five kids and prove that I was adopted.”

“That’s a pretty tall order. How are you gonna make all that happen?” she asked, handing me a napkin. “Wipe your mouth.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I have no fucking idea, but I will succeed... or die trying.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Um, thanks. Do you mind if we leave here so I can chain smoke ‘til I throw up so it will be easier to quit?”

“Is that the method you’re going to use?” Gemma asked, scooping up our unfinished ice cream and tossing it.

“I know it seems a little unorthodox, but I read it worked for Jennifer Aniston.”

“Really?”

“No, but it sounded good,” I said, dragging her out of Hattie’s.

“God, Astrid,” Gemma groaned. “Whatever you need to do I’m here for you, but you have to quit. I don’t want you to die. Ever.”

“Everybody dies,” I said quietly, reminded that the woman I loved most had died only a week ago. “But I’ve got too fucking much to do to die any time soon.”

1

Three months later . . .

“There are ten thousand ways to express yourself creatively,” I huffed, yanking on my running shoes. “My God, there’s acting, painting, sewing, belly dancing, cooking... Shit, scrapbooking is creative.” I shoved my arms into my high school sweatshirt that had seen better days.

“You’re not actually wearing that,” Gemma said, helping herself to my doughnut.

“Yep, I actually am.” I grabbed my breakfast out of her hand and shoved it in my mouth. “And by the way, I’ve decided to be a movie star.”

“But you can’t act,” my best friend reminded me.

“That’s completely beside the point,” I explained, taking the sweatshirt off. I hated it when Gemma was right. “Half the people in Hollywood can’t act.”

“Don’t you think it might be wise to choose a career that you actually have the skills to do?”

“Nope, I told you I’m making changes. Big ones.”

I bent over and tied my running shoes. Maybe if I just ran forever, I would stop hurting. Maybe if I found something meaningful, I could figure out who in the hell I was.

Gemma picked up my soda and took a huge swig. “You’re an artist and a damn good one. You should do something with that.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, admiring my reflection in the microwave. Holy hell, my hair was sticking up all over my head. “Why didn’t you tell me my hair exploded?”

“Because it’s funny,” Gemma laughed.

“I’ll never make it in show business if people see my hair like this,” I muttered and tried to smooth it down.

“Astrid, you will never make it in show business no matter what your hair looks like. You may be pretty, but you can’t act your way out of a hole and you suck as a liar,” Gemma informed me as she flopped down on my couch and grabbed the remote.

“Your confidence in me is overwhelming.” I picked out a baseball cap and shoved it over my out of control curls. “If the movie star thing doesn’t work out, I might open a restaurant.”

“Did you become mentally challenged during the night at some point?” she asked as she channel surfed faster than any guy I ever dated.

“Gimme that thing.” I yanked the remote away from her. “What in the hell are you trying to find?”

“Jersey Shore.”

“For real?” I laughed.

“For real for real,” she grinned.

“Don’t you have a home?” I asked.

“Yep. I just like yours better.”

I threw the remote back at her and grabbed my purse. If I was going to be a famous actress, or at the very least a chef, I needed to get started. But before I could focus on my new career, I had business to take care of. Very important business...

“Where are you going?” Gemma yawned. “It’s 8:00 on a Sunday morning.”

“I’m going running,” I said, staring at the ceiling.

“Oh my God,” Gemma grinned, calling me out on my lie. “Astrid, since when do you run with your purse?”

“Okay fine,” I snapped. “I’m going to run a few errands and say goodbye forever to one of my best friends today.”

Gemma gaped at me. Her mouth hung open like she’d had an overdose of Novocain at the dentist. “So today is the day? You really going to end it?”

“I don’t really have a choice, since there’s so much damn money riding on it.”

“Oh my God,” she squealed and punched me in the arm. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t be proud yet,” I muttered, praying I’d be successful with my breakup plans.

“You didn’t have to take the bet,” Gemma said.

“Yes, I did,” I said and shook my head with disgust. “Nothing else has worked. Voodoo has to.”

“Voodoo?”

“Yep.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks,” I said as I slapped on some lip gloss. “I’m gonna need it.”

“Yes, you are,” Gemma grinned. “Yes, you are.”

* * *

It was hot and I was sweaty and I wondered for the umpteenth time if I was losing my mind. I needed to stop making bets that were impossible to win. Maybe I could be a social smoker or I could just hide it from everyone. I could carry perfume and gum and lotion and drive to the next town when I needed a nicotine fix.

“Excuse me, are you here to be hypnotized?” a feminine voice purred.

I glanced up from my spot on the filthy sidewalk and there stood the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I quickly stubbed out my cigarette, turned my head away in embarrassment and blew my smoke out. Reason number three hundred and forty-six to quit... impersonating a low class loser.

She looked foreign—Slavic or Russian. Huge violet-blue eyes, full lips, high cheekbones set in a perfect heart-shaped face, framed by tons of honey-gold blonde hair. Absolutely ridiculous. I felt a little inadequate. Not only was the face perfect, but the body was to die for. Long legs, pert boobies, ass-o-rific back side and about six feet tall. I was tall at 5 feet 9 inches, but she was tall.

“Well, I was,” I explained, straightening up and trying to look less like a crumpled homeless mess from my seat on the sidewalk, “but they must have moved.” I pointed to a rusted-out doorway.

“Oh no,” the gorgeous Amazon giggled. Seriously, did she just giggle? “That’s not the door. It’s right over here.” She grabbed my hand, her grip was firm and cool, and guided me to the correct door. A zap of electricity shot up my arm when she touched me. I tried to nonchalantly disengage my hand from hers, but she held mine fast. “Here we go.” She escorted me into the lobby of a very attractive office.

“I don’t know how I missed this,” I muttered as she briskly led me to a very nice exam room. She released my hand. Did that zap really just happen? Maybe I was already in nicotine withdrawal.

“Please have a seat.” The blue eyed bombshell indicated a very soft and cozy looking pale green recliner.

“I’m sorry, are you the hypnotist?” I asked as I sat. Something didn’t feel quite right. What was a gorgeous, Amazon Russian-looking chick doing in Mossy Creek, Kentucky? This was a tiny town, surely I would have seen her before.

“Yes, yes I am,” she replied, sitting on a stool next to my comfy chair with an official-looking clipboard in her hand. “So you’re here because... ?”

“Because... um, I want to stop smoking,” I told her and then quickly added, “Oh, and I don’t want to gain any weight.” If you don’t ask for the impossible, there’s no way you’ll ever get it.

Miss Universe very slowly and somewhat clinically looked me over from head to toe. “Your weight looks perfect. You are a very beautiful young woman. Are you happy with your body right now?”

“Yes,” I replied slowly. Was she hitting on me? I didn’t think so, but...

“That’s good,” she smiled. “I can guarantee that you will never gain weight again after you’re hypnotized.”

“Really?” I gasped. My God, that was incredible. Smoke free and at a weight I liked. This was the best day ever.

“Really,” she laughed. “Now let’s get started.”

“Wait, don’t I need to fill out a bunch of forms and pay and sign my life away in case you accidentally kill me or something?”

Blondie laughed so hard I thought she might choke. “No, no,” she assured me and quickly pulled herself together. “My receptionist is at lunch... we’ll take care of it afterwards. Besides, I’ve never killed anyone by accident.”

“Oookay.” She was a little weird, but I supposed people with her occupation would be. She did guarantee me I would be smoke free and skinny. That did not suck. Wait... I needed to think this through. I was feeling unsettled and wary. She was odd, made me uncomfortable and had electric hands. On the flip side, she was very pretty, had a really nice office and promised no weight gain. Damn.

Would common sense or vanity prevail? And the winner is... vanity. By a landslide.

She leaned into me, her green eyes intense. I could have sworn her eyes were purple-y bluish. I was getting so tired. I prayed I wouldn’t drool when I was out.

“Astrid, you need to clear your mind and look into my eyes,” Miss Russia whispered.

“How do you know my name?” I mumbled. “I didn’t tell you my name.” Alarm bells went off in my brain. My pea-brain that never should have thought it was a good idea to get hypnotized at a strip mall on the bad side of town. You’d think a business called ‘House of Hypnotism’ might have tipped me off. Crap. These were not the decisions a smart and responsible, if not somewhat directionless, twenty-nine year old woman should make. I should have listened to my gut and gone with common sense.

The room started spinning. It felt like a carnival from hell. Blondie’s mouth was so strange. There was something very unattractive going on with her mouth. It got kind of blurry, but it looked like... wait... maybe she was British. They all have bad teeth.

“I fink ooo shud stooop,” I said, mangling the English language. I tried again. “Oow do ooo know my name?” When did I put marbles in my mouth? Who in the hell dimmed the lights and cranked the air conditioner?

“Oh Astrid, not only do I know your name,” she smiled, her green eyes blazing, “I know everything about you, dear.”

— Visit THIS LINK for more info! —

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

SHIFT HAPPENS SERIES

Ready to Were

Some Were in Time

No Were To Run

Were Me Out

MAGIC AND MAYHEM SERIES

Switching Hour

Witch Glitch

A Witch in Time

Magically Delicious

A Tale of Two Witches

Three’s A Charm

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!

Visit www.robynpeterman.com for more information.

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