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Yes my dears, Splendificent 3 is still coming out. I have proof! A sample! A sample I can show you because the book really is coming out. SOON!

Let’s join Sofi Poe, fox spirit and social media queen, at the most exclusive club in New York City:

“Oh My Gosh!” Sofi wailed as “The Way You Want Me To” by 98 Degrees pounded all her ears. Both the human set and the fox set. Quadruple hell! “How many songs did 98 Degrees make?”

“Be careful what you say about 98 Degrees in the 99^th Degree,” warned Pedro Gomez. Hemera’s primary groundskeeper sprawled upon the club’s backstage diamond studded ultra sofa.

“Ahhh,” Pedro stretched like a sphinx, “It is a disgrace men less attractive than me have laid on this chaise.”

6 hours ago Pedro Gomez responded to Sofi’s weakly shadowed desperation, stroking his thin mustache and petting one of Hemera’s sheeps. “Pleasure for pleasure. Give the owner of the 99th Degree what he likes most at his amateur night.Own the stage, win and yYou may ask a boon of him. ”

Desperation indeed, as Sofi rapidly bombarded Pedro with the theory that someone at the 99th Degree might know Prince Gorick’s post-Golden Land exile movements.

What Sofi HAD been trying to tell her inattentive, insensitive, narcissistic BFFs was that at a masquerade ball in Hvar, Crotia thrown by the Wise Order of The Alchemic Dusk Sofi had sex with an elf. Not just any elf, but one  in a golden mask with a shaggy blond mane, eight packed abs and purple eyes. Sure, that lofty descriptor fit a vaunted few hunks….

But, was it so rare as a  juicy booty, radian emerald eyes, sensual pink lips, and voluminous tatas? Oh hell to the no!

So once she could get to Gorick of course he would remember their chemistry and tight sex and she would convince him to leave everyone alone, turn on Lazarus, and all shall be Splendificent!

She just had to confirm things first.

“How can you ever lose with a man as handsome as I?” Pedro asked himself, admiring himself in the ceiing length mirror.

“You lost your car keys and we had to take the subway so subway token begging, turnstile hopping groundskeepers should shut up.”

“I am but a simple groundskeeper.

“Hmph!”

Pedro responded by flexing his triceps, and you know he’s got gains.

The luxurious club’s backstage’s purple lights and its sculpted relief of 98 Degree album covers gave the impression Pedro’s bicep owl tattoo soared through the best of MTV’s TRL.

An ice sorceress admired the perfect sculpting of 98 Degree’s Revelation album cover; Sofi would later learn the 6’5 woman with frizzy red hair knelt in worship in front of it for three hours.

“They butchered the man who sculpted this so that he would never create something so…so…so…,”The healing sorceress sent tears falling from such a height that they fell like little sprinkles sent from a cupid’s watering clan.

“Oh my gosh. What is this?” Sofi whined.

Know it all Skye Cotton from Tristbelle’s dance program, here to juggle imp heads, announced, “The owner Norris Morris snapped a non-birthing person’s neck said Drew Lachey was nasty looking.”

“A non-birthing person?” Pedro mused.

“Hello? Don’t be a bigot.”

“I said nothing!”

“Your tone, sir, your tone. And attention: Norris Morris, Drew Lachey was just Nick’s brother. He wasn’t 98 Degree.” Sofi remarked, disgusted.

“Actually-“ Know It All began.

“Oh my gosh, ice sorceress, what do you think about the Mister Freeze character in Batman? Is it a hurtful portrayal of ice people.”

“Actually, Sofi,” Know It All began yet again “They prefer to be called by their-“

“Shush, honey, this is a teaching moment.”

Golden Land and  New York City.The joke went New York City was merely Golde Land where humans served you dinner instead of being served FOR dinner.

Of all the cities in the Earth Realm, The Big Apple hosted the highest supernatural population. The magic-casting class of supernatural wormed their way into the lives of those humans who thought themselves powerful. The magic casters didn’t just know where the bodies were buried. They dug the grave themselves.

Could life get any better for the magic casters? Vampires congregated in Greenwich, Connecticut’s Golden Triangle. The vamps composed 75 percent of home owners in the country’s most affluent neighborhood.

Werewolves either bickered among their pack over territory, not understanding their territory belonged to magic-casters first, the city government second and the werewolves last.

Pure elves and Dark Elves couldn’t get more than 1/4^th of a shit about anything outside Golden Land.

Fairies? No self respecting Fae would be caught dead in New York City! Only the really trashy ones!

Thus casters up and down the magical caste system could thrive in someone.

Though few held any explanation why a demon sorcerer from an obscure family owned thee spot in NYC: a club where even witches out the Koran were turned away at the door.

“Anyone who dies in New York City really dies in the 99^th Degree,” So they said

“Many inuit carry ice magic in their genes. But most can’t use magic.”

“Neither can yooooooou,” Sofi growled.

“Huh? I couldn’t hear that.”

“I said that blue looks fab on you!”

“It does, doesn’t it?

Mean girl smiles! Double attack!

Who picked Cotton to come into the 99^th Degree? And who picked Cotton for the amateur night? Did she think she’d win? The blue haired bitch’s chance of beating Sof were as brittle as her ugly children’s NyQuil hair.

Who liked Skye Cotton, anyway? All she talked about was her Facebook page.  Who under 35 used Facebook? UGH!

A K-Pop Idol sailed through the double doors, scoffing at the black opals embedded in the knobs and their explosions of color.

Giant black eyes beneath wavy brown swells announced her disdain more than her words, “Black opals. A very rare gemstone. Wasted on a nightclub’s door. Noted for future remarks.”

 

“Doctor Hannah?” Sofi remarked, adjusting the noodle thin strap of her black lacy teddy.

Hannah wore baby blue jump suit with a white flower on the chest. The doc came off quite modest and subdued, unlike Sofi in her French-inspired lace teddy with scalloped trim and cheeky thong bottom. To make no mention  Skye’s fantastically hot deep v-necked blue gown

“Yes. Recalled. I saved your friend’s mother,” Doctor Hananah recollected her freeing Dawn of Saint Lazarus’ glamor. “For my next trick I will stand perfectly still.”

“This is a trick?” Pedro scoffed. “Come closer, let me show you a few tricks.”

“Denied. It is hard to converse with minor minds. I will stand still  for my amateur night performance until the audience realizes that is all I will be doing. For my next trick. That is my trick. The trick of immobility.  Did you ascertain the humor?”

Sofi clapped her hands and widened her green etes, “Oh my gosh, I get it. You all came  to say silly things, and I don’t get fazed by it, which improves my zen! Thank you. Namaste.”

“Was my joke too complicated? Do I need to dumb my humor down to point my audience to the punchline? I wil engage in further study when I arrive back to my domicile.”

A dwarf woman wearing a thin red mohawk and green tinted glasses peered her small head through the door, “Sofi Poe,  fox spirit and Pedro Gomez, human? We have you next.”

Pedro strolled to meet the dwarf woman, massaging his slick backed hair. Sofi followed with the air of Frjeya, worshiped by norse of Golden Land as a goddess of love; until Skye paused her with a comment,

“Good luck, Sofi. I’ll be juggling Munane by the way. They’re a toothless, grey guard demon in South Africa.”

“I know, honey.”

Both girls smiled that bitchy-so-not-a-smile the hot popular girls give each other.

The dwarf woman led the two through the small hallway towards the second balcony of the secretive club. Instead of 98 Dgreee posters, paintings of a giant shouldered, bald black man span the navy walls.

“This is our owner, Mister Norris. So strong, so tough, so, so, so Norris!”

Paintings burn in every realm of the underwood, Pedro gaze applauded the finest ass this side of Heaven: Sofi Poe’s

“What do you need a prince for? Your prince is right here.“

“I thought you were a simple groundskeeper,” The dwarf commented, reading her call sheet.

“My words thrown back at me.”

“This ho will throw something back at your hose, big boy,” Sofi promised, slapping her behind.