Nulli and the Leprechaun 6 - A Letter to Lucifer - AWBC - Feb 2014

This post is part of the February 2014 Blog Chain at Absolute Write. The rules are simple. There's a prompt. We all run with it. This month's prompt is "Characters Writing About Authors."

To keep things interesting (and to give me an excuse to go completely crazy with this story), I decided a while back to integrate the blog chain with my Nulli and the Leprechaun web series. We're now on the sixth installment. 

While each episode of Nulli and the Leprechaun is self-contained, links to Part 1-5 of the series are below. 
#1 What the Leprechaun Said (AWBC March 2013)                
#2 Wrong Place, Right Time (AWBC May 2013)
#3 Child of the Devil (AWBC August 2013)
#4 Lions, Tigers and Bears–Oh My! (AWBC October 2013)
#5 Sonic and Tails (AWBC February 2014)

Previously, on Nulli and the Leprechaun...

Shawn's smile bared two rows of jagged teeth. “I always thought Tails was the cooler character. After all, all Sonic could do was run really fast. Tails can fly.”

Nulli's brows snapped together. “What did you just say?”

“That Tails is the cooler character?”

“No...after that.” She craned her neck back and stood.  A delighted grin spread over her face. “I think I just discovered our way out.”

And now...

Dear Lucifer (or whoever is pulling the strings around here),

I can only assume, having flown on my tails into a dark room to find a desk, parchment, quill, and red ink (this better not be blood), you want to open a line of communication.

Considering the night I’ve had, I’ll take a leap of faith and take this opportunity to make an impassioned plea for my release. I want to go home!

Comprendez-vous? Capisci? Kao jai mai? Is any of this getting through your thick horned skull? 

I’m done. I mean, seriously, I’m done. All I wanted to do tonight was have a nice hot meal. Do you know what I got in return for walking into a restaurant?

Your lunatic leprechaun nephew kidnapped me.

Let me underline that for you: A Leprechaun Freakin' Kidnapped Me!

I don't care what rules you follow down in hell, but this is not appropriate behavior. Despite what bodice-ripping romances might lead you to believe, forcibly magicking a woman into a literal "pot of gold" does not make for the basis of a good relationship. I don’t care if Shawn thinks he knows the future. I don’t care how hot he is. And I definitely don’t care if our fates are chain-linked together for all eternity. 

It was a stupid dumb-ass move.

And you know what? The pink BDSM-y dungeon makeover of the pot of gold doesn’t ingratiate the leprechaun to me in any way shape or form. I don’t care if he went through and read my book collection, which (by the way) was a huge and unacceptable breach of privacy, to come up with inspiration. One does not jump from “Hello, I’m your waiter” to “Let me show you this kinky dungeon.” It’s just not done.

And the sad thing is, those two instances above were the only sane part of my night. 

Which brings me to your son Luke.

He is f-n’ crazy—like needs to be sent to an insane asylum and go through lots of therapy crazy. Sexy only takes you so far in life, and, in my humble opinion, it’s time for him to make change. I get it—you wanted to test my loyalty to your nephew Shawn.

Well, here’s a newsflash. I didn’t reject Luke because I felt compelled to express my fidelity to a guy I barely know. I rejected Luke because he and his red snake-like eyes creeped me out.

And the nail in the coffin was his decision to link his departure with the appearance of a lion, tiger, and bear.

I just want make this clear. There are better ways to test faith than filling a room/dungeon/pot of gold with predatory animals. Not cool, Mr. String-puller. Very not cool.

But even then, even after I risked life and limb to confront your gifts, I stil thought you might have a destination in mind. I still thought you had a general idea about where this night is going, a vague and fleeting goal with regards to my fate—you know, a plot thread that might somehow tie these disparate events together. 

I was wrong. You’re not J.K. Rowlings or Tolkien. You fall into the same category as George R.R. Martin and the writers of Lost—a mastermind who seems to be mapping out my life based on a series of random prompts and plot twists that make absolutely no sense. 

Do you know how I came to this conclusion?

You turned the Leprechaun and I into Sonic and Tails. Seriously? Videogame characters? Really old and almost obsolete video game characters? Who gave you that idea, some stupid Internet forum? Did you all just randomly throw out ideas into a vacuum and decide to turn me in a 16-bit retro-gaming icon?

You did, didn’t you?

And where the hell did you send Shawn ? Why am I in this room alone with just a quill and parchment? Why am I writing this on an antiquated medium instead of a computer? Why are the words disappearing as I write them?



Please let me go home.


Beseechingly Yours,


Participants and posts:

orion_mk3 - (link to post)
Sneaky Devil - (link to post)
Anarchic Q - (link to post)
Sixpence - (link to post)
SamanthaLehane - (link to post)
pyrosama - (link to post)
Angyl78 - (link to post)
MsLaylaCakes - (You Are Here)
ishtar'sgate - (link to post)
meowzbark - (link to post)

Archive of Past Blog Chains

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Tara Quan

Globetrotter, lover of languages, and romance author, Tara Quan has an addiction for crafting tales with a pinch of spice and a smidgen of kink. Inspired by her travels, she enjoys tossing her kick-ass heroines and alpha males into exotic contemporary locales, fantasy worlds, and post-apocalyptic futures. Visit Tara at