Home Sweet Home Ch. 04

They started kissing at her door. Diana slowly forced him backward toward her bed, then pushed him onto it. She straddled him then resumed. She let the mood build for several minutes before she slid off him and started with his jeans.

"We started with me last time," Diana said as she yanked his jeans off. "Let's start with you this time. No offense, but I want this time to last a little longer."

"Not even mad," Riley said.

"Good," Diana said.

Riley couldn't remember his last blowjob. He figured it was around the time him and Kelly were still just dating. The second he put a ring on her finger, it was something she stopped doing. At least for him. Riley hoped the three minutes he lasted before climaxing was Diana's skill and not himself. He knew better than to get his hopes up. Diana jerked him to completion, assuming he'd be reluctant to continue kissing for the rest of the night.

While they waited for Riley to return, they completed stripping each other. Diana positioned his back against her headboard and straddled him again. As they kissed deeply, Riley's hands explored every inch of her body within his reach. His fingers traced down her spine and up to her shoulders. He tested the firmness of her hips the way one would discern the ripeness of a peach.

Diana felt Riley stiffening between her legs. She raised herself up to insert him. They started slow and deliberate. The next time he ran his hand across her backside, it was moist from sweat. After taking it slow, Diana wanted her release, so asked Riley to open a box she kept on the lower level of her nightstand. In her toy chest was a purple dildo, and a cylindrical vibrator with three settings.

"I've been single for a long time. You don't ask about my toy chest, and I'll never ask to see your browser history," Diana teased. He laughed a little while he handed her the vibrator as requested.

The toy helped Diana achieve her needs. Once she was satiated, she gave Riley permission to her body. He took over, and as hoped, it was longer and more satisfying than their first time. He had the endurance to enjoy her in new ways. Her legs held up and angled for deeper penetration. From behind to admire her toned back while she balanced herself on a pillow. She offered to finish him the way she they started, but he wanted her in this way.

After the best for them both in years, Riley announced his nearing climax. Diana expressed her desire for him to unleashed deep inside of her. His body tensed, then relaxed, Diana feeling him expanded and retract.

Pleased with their night, they kissed to exhaustion, and that effort lead to sleep.

--

On Saturday Riley resumed his producer duties. The uninspired performances of the young actress forced him to take a break after he finished the twentieth audition of the thirty-seven. He refilled his coffee and started the twenty-first. This young actress caught his eye immediately.

The girl showed up in a dress somewhat more mature than any right-minded mother would allow. Not exactly risqué, but certainly inappropriate. A black dress, mixing qualities of a cocktail and a skater. Thin shoulder straps holding up a narrow form fitting torso that expanded into a fanned dress shorter than she was young. Light red lipstick. Dark chocolate brown hair with blue eyes so big they appeared like a painting where the model's features were exaggerated. It was a perfectly measured wardrobe designed to make people uncomfortable.

But could she act?

The casting director asked for her name and she provided it: Grace Weatherby. She crossed her legs after she sat down and gave a toothless smile. When asked to read the lines, she started to speak, but not read. It was a different dialogue than the casting call had provided. It wasn't from the script, or the book. It was a practiced speech where she told the story of her character. Her voice sounded like the narrator for an adaptation of a Jane Austin novel.

"I was born, the last daughter of Lilith. The purest generation of witch, and the last of my sisters alive. Perhaps not alive, but certainly still thriving in this plain of existence. My mother, sorrowed through watching her daughters grow, age, and die, granted me the gift of longevity, which is a polite way of saying a curse. I've so longed to be a woman, and my mind and spirit have matured vastly beyond what my body would suggest.

"I've existed this way for tens of centuries. Travelled the world more than thrice, until I was burned at the stake in Bavaria. Like all souls, mine scattered to the wind, but ironically stuck to the cross of a man chanting for my demise. I lived in that cross, felt it trade hands, father to son until I was finally freed from my wooden coffin, only to be stuck in a man even more wooden than that cross."

The casting director was baffled, stuttering as he asked her to read the script as instructed. She mockingly tilted her head, expanding her grin to include teeth. Absolutely menacing.

"If you believe I'd play by your rules and not my own, I'd say you don't have a firm grasp on who I am," Grace said, and Riley paused the video.

"Holy shit," Riley said, laughing to himself. Grace had a firm grasp of the character.

Grace's acting credits were a handful of commercials and some small stage productions. She was eleven, born and raised in London, and moved to the United States two years ago to pursue a larger acting career. The accent was her true speaking voice, which allowed her a fluid, rambunctious, and natural line delivery. That is, if she had read the lines she was given.

"We'll let you know," the casting director said. Before the camera cut, it caught him muttering to himself. "That was one creepy little bitch."

"She's perfect," Riley said.

Riley forced himself to finish the audition tapes for the Little Maiden. There was one other acceptable performance. A little girl who used a German accent instead, but it lacked the same polish. It wasn't her normal speaking voice, and she struggled to hold the accent consistently. Good effort for such a young actress. Once all auditions were complete, he told Debra one of these two, but Grace Weatherby preferred by a country mile. He left a note saying remember the other girl for a smaller supporting role if possible. She deserved something for being tolerable.

Theodora Abernathy began to fill his inbox next. He was excited when he saw one of his preferred actresses had tried out for the part, that being Carrie Coon. It would be a small role in the first season because she was comatose for most of the first book, but if they had a second season based off the sequel, she'd have a much larger role. The audition was more than adequate, capturing Theodora's endearing sarcasm and penchant for profanity.

This character would be hard to pick because the next three were also great auditions. It was strange going from such clear winners to a legitimately difficult choice. Thankfully the next ten weren't anything of note, but then they went back to being great. By the end, he had whittled down the list from twenty-nine, to seven.

The part of Theodora Abernathy took all of Saturday to go through, so he decided the lead role of Timothy Augustine would be a problem for Sunday.

Riley cleared the clutter around his keyboard and left the office, pushing the door closed with his foot on the way out. The upper half of the door starting at hip level was still missing after the stained glass was broken. After dumping the trash and looking back, he mulled over how he would fix it. Replacing the stained glass or just simply installing a new door.

While looking at his office, he saw a figure coming toward the house through the window from his peripheral. Opening the door before it knocked, he saw Alice with her hand raised, making her jump back from the surprise.

"Woah...hi," Alice said with a smile. "Heading home from my dad's, wanted to 'wut up' the little guy before I left." Her consideration was a gut punch.

"He's not here," Riley said. Alice caught his tone and knew something was wrong with the way he said it. Howie wouldn't go anywhere by himself because he's four. It should have been they're not here, not he's not here. Riley's expression showed discomfort, so Alice didn't ask any more about him.

"What are you up to? You got more than just the letter P now?" Alice asked.

"Nearly three hundred more pages, don't worry. Had to pause on that. I'm producing a TV show for the foreseeable future," Riley said.

"Cool. What does that mean exactly?"

"I'm watching audition tapes for the leads," Riley said.

"Who's playing who?" Alice asked. When Riley showed reluctance, she continued. "Off the record, I'm not going to tell anyone."

"A couple unknowns for Michelle Frost and the Little Maiden. Lot of possibilities for Theodora. Augustine, I haven't even started yet. That's a tomorrow problem," Riley explained.

"I'd love to sit in on that," Alice said, not meaning anything by the comment. It still gave Riley an idea. Fans could bring something unique.

"Would you really like to?" Riley offered. Alice was as still as a statue by the offer.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm serious. I've never casted before. I think some fan input could be beneficial. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I'll burn my calendar to make room," Alice said.

"Start at noon?" Riley asked.

"I'll bring the popcorn," Alice said. She left quickly before he had a chance to change his mind.

Riley closed the door and thought another fan couldn't hurt. He called Diana.

"Can I borrow your daughter tomorrow?" Riley asked.

"Please put some context into that?" Diana said.

--

The girls were told noon, but both arrived at eleven from sheer enthusiasm. Diana had to go into the office but told him she'd be back to pick her up once they were done. They kissed at the door, and Alice looked at Whitney who nodded.

"Your mom and him?" Alice whispered, and Whitney nodded again. "Dude."

Diana left for work, and Riley closed the door. He had already moved his laptop to the living room to plug it directly into the TV with an HDMI cord. They took time to prepare viewing snacks and introductions. The girls knew each other in passing. They were only a grade apart at the high school but didn't share any classes. Alice didn't say anything about the reason she recognized her was because there were only seven black students at the entire school.

Tilly made brief contact and took Alice aside to explain the situation regarding Howie. Alice hugged her tightly to show her support and told her it would work out. After everything was ready, Tilly passed on the opportunity to watch the audition. She wasn't really a fan unlike the girls.

"Let me show you guys who I already picked for Michelle and the Little Maiden," Riley said. He played the audition tapes of Danielle Wake and Grace Weatherby. They announced their unanimous approval of Grace. Their response to Danielle was lukewarm.

"Everything hinges on the scene where she learns she's a cambion. She's hamming it too much," Alice said to explain her dislike. Whitney concurred.

"I agree with that. There are another few chapters after she learns her origin, and she doesn't quite believe it until she breaks a seal only a demon could. That's when she has her crisis her faith."

Riley took note and decided to play the other auditions he skipped over when he decided on Danielle, maybe too early. Within five minutes of the next seven, the group agreed to move on, until they landed on a new actress with promise to portray Michelle Frost named Naomi Freemont. A twenty-two-year-old black actress. They watched her tape in full, and it just worked. It plugged into the character so well.

"I think I like her more. I'm not just saying that because I'm black," Whitney said, though Riley didn't feel she needed to qualify her statement that way.

"I liked it more, and I'm so white I get sunburnt on overcast days," Alice said, making the group laugh. "We're just building a shortlist. Right?"

Riley had to admit he liked her more as well. There was something more genuine in her performance. The nervous energy felt real, not a put on. Danielle was a confident woman pretending to be shy; Naomi was a shy woman pretending to be confident, and not successfully. That's Michelle Frost.

Riley sent Debra a message to add Naomi to the shortlist.

The other performances were lackluster, and they moved on to Theodora Abernathy. They agreed with his shortlist, not adding, or taking anyone away.

"Now we arrive at Timothy Augustine," Riley said, and played the first one.

Several actors he had heard of had come in to read the lines. Good auditions, but not exactly what he was looking for. Some had southern drawls to the accents, which told Riley they hadn't read the book beyond knowing Timothy lived in Savannah. The problem was Timothy wasn't southern; Timothy was midwestern. He moved to Savannah after joining the organization in 1970, after being discharged into the care of the church by a mental asylum in Illinois. He constantly talked to himself and was wrongfully diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1963. Turns out he wasn't talking to himself, but the two new spirits left in his body after he died and was brought back during the Korean war in 1952. The two spirits being his Chaplain and the Little Maiden, his own personal angel and demon.

"What's up with the southern accents?" Whitney asked after the fourth actor in a row had one.

"Posers, that's what," Alice said.

Then an actor much too young for the role read for it. Timothy at the start of the story was fifty-nine-years-old. The actor wasn't a day over thirty. Still, he read for it, and killed it.

"That's too bad. Way too young," Riley said.

"What about makeup?" Whitney asked. She had liked his audition and was trying to salvage his presence on the list.

"A full prosthetic could take hours every day," Riley said, and the girls both nodded. The time delay increased the budget, when they could just simply hire an older actor and avoid the cost. Alice wasn't ready to give up so soon.

"What about a small rewrite to explain it?" Alice asked. Changes in the source material were dangerous. That could piss off the fandom. The fact a member of the fandom brought it up was the only reason he was willing to listen.

"What did you have in mind?" Riley asked.

"Timothy has had the soul of an immensely powerful witch inside of him for, what? Forty years?" Alice asked. Riley nodded. "If it gave him arcane powers, could stand to reason another side effect was delayed aging. The Little Maiden never aged, so her soul made him not ageless, but age slower. In the last forty years he's only aged ten."

Riley was dumbfounded on how brilliant that was. It didn't damage the lore or retcon anything. The show was the show, and the books were the books. It could work. It also extended the casting possibilities. In the end he made a note regarding the possible rewrite and asked Debra to forward it to the head writer and showrunner. The shortlist was short, including a few unknowns, the younger actor, and Mathew Lillard.

"I'm dropping that into the writing room next time I'm in LA," Riley said to Alice. Alice deserved a writing credit for that. He had the pull to make that possible too.

--

Once they had their shortlists, Whitney didn't have to wait around for her mother and simply took a ride home with Alice. In a few hours they had become fast friends. Whitney texted her about the ride with Alice, and about how much fun it was to be involved. Diana then gave her permission to spend the rest of the day at Alice's when asked. Tilly had gone next door to talk to Mr. Hartman about starting work tomorrow, so Riley was at home alone.

Riley was somewhat out of the way, but Diana wanted to come by the house again to thank Riley for inviting Whitney. She even knew how she wanted to thank him. The anticipathttps://community.mcafee.com/t5/Security-Information-and-Event/McAfee-SIEM-How-to-add-MSSQL-be-a-data-source/td-p/651038

ion made her smile as she turned onto his street.

What she found in his driveway was a car she didn't recognize. There was a man walking around the front of the house, looking in windows, and seemed momentarily panicked when he heard Diana's car door shut. Like a guy who was a casing a place before he robbed it.

"Can I help you sir?" Diana asked.

"Not really. Just lost my key, seeing if someone is home," the man said. Diana looked at Riley's car, so knew the man was lying. He knew she knew it.

The man was six feet rounded up. Buzzed head with stubby hair so short the color wasn't obvious. A visible tattoo on his neck from the tips of flames, the full fire on his chest and shoulders. More tattoos on his hands and wrists connected to arm sleeves. Black jeans and boots. Plain white shirt underneath a black hoodie partially unzipped. Several facial piercings on his nose, lip, and eyebrows to go with the wide loops on his earlobes.

"You live here?" Diana asked. She knew the answer but was asking to see what he would say.

"Of course, I do. You clearly don't," he said.

Diana had always tried her best to not jump straight to racism as the explanation for something. Unless it was blatantly racist. There was no alternative. The only way he could have said it more bluntly was by saying the help goes around the back.

"Sir, I'm going to ask you to leave this property right now," Diana said. The man smiled while laughing in his throat. He shook his head and turned away from her. "Fine, not asking. Now I'm ordering you to leave," Diana said with a tone infused with authority.

"It's my house..."

"...it's not your house," Diana interrupted. The man went silent but kept his smirk. "Leave, or I will help you leave."

"Could you?" the man said, walking within a foot of her and standing straighter, hoping to intimidate her with his size. In her twenty-three years as a police officer, she had arrested men far bigger than him. Her badge was in her back pocket, and a sidearm was concealed in her glove compartment if it came to that.

"I think I could," Diana said, not swaying in her posture. This man didn't scare her in the slightest. "Leave, or I'll get a squad car to make you leave, and we'll ask some questions about why you're here."

"I'm here because it's my house," the man said again. He knew she knew it wasn't true, but he kept saying it. Repeat a lie enough and maybe she'd believe it. "Besides, what's the response time? Get here in fifteen I'm gone in ten."

"The cops are already here," Diana said, then dropped the badge on him. The man's peacocking molted. He held his hands up, admitting defeat and stepped to his car. "On second thought, stick around. I got some questions."

"Nah, I'm good," the man, and slammed his car door shut. Diana's car was blocking one of his exits, so he cut through the center lawn and turned at the street. That delay was more than enough time for Diana to take a picture of his license plate for later. She would certainly have some officers look into this man.

Home Sweet Home Ch. 04

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