excerpt from
“The Devil Wore Purple Plunder-Pants”
an upcoming romance novel from Bilgemunky Press
note: The following story and characters are works of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, and especially any resemblance to Keira Knightly, super sexy star of Pirates of the Caribbean, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 5 – Inside the Contessa’s Chamber
Bam! Crash! Strangle! Boom!
The Contessa de Salma tightly clenched a stiletto to her silky bosom as she stared at her bedchamber door with an intensity that would surely whither the spine of even the most courageous of men. Unfortunately for her, it was no mere man that currently decimated her soldiers in the hallway – it was a demon of the sea, a mad beast driven by love and rage – love for his beloved Keira Knightly, who had looked really hot in that red dress in Pirates of the Caribbean, and rage at having had her torn from his mighty arms by the dastardly Don Squishy, scourge of four out of five Great Lakes.
Another crash, and the hallway fell silent. Contessa de Salma nervously held her breath as she listened for some clue of what was to come. One heartbeat was followed by the next, but the third was interrupted by an enormous impact that nearly shook her chamber door from its hinges. The Contessa quickly removed her hand from her bosom and instead concealled the stiletto behind the shapely small of her back, noting that it suddenly felt very tiny and inadequate (the stilleto, not the shapely small of her back, which was sized just right.) Her assailant’s second effort sent the door into shatters, letting in a cloud of battle-dust and smoke. The debris wreaked of blood and gunpowder, but it quickly settled and the Contessa could at last fix her icy gaze on the figure that entered her sacred bedchamber. She clenched her weapon and prepared to lunge — but what was this? Entering her feminine abode was, not the raging fiend she had expected, but something quite different. His once fine clothing was tattered and battle-worn, revealing a savoury view of the body beneath – a bruised and bloody, yet sensitive and masculine body that had been pushed to the limits of endurance, and found worthy in every respect. Yet despite the combat he’d endured, the endless heartache and pain, his face showed only crystal resolve. The Contessa de Salma immediately felt a weakness scurry into her knees like rats into a pantry, but in a sexy way. She knew at once, for she had of course heard the tales – and besides, the purple fur was a dead giveaway – this could only be Bilgemunky.
“Contessa de Salma,” he spoke in a voice that, like the rest of him, was soft yet firm, “I came only to seek your wisdom, your sight. Why did you force me to sink your entire fleet? Why was it necessary for me to slaughter your armies when I’ve sworn time and again to forsake all violence (only to lay into it aplenty for a really good reason)? It gives me no pleasure to bring such brutal yet cinematically-pleasing destruction to your gypsy kingdom when all I ask is a simple audience.”
“Bilgemunky,” she replied, suddenly realizing this legendary creature was truly in her bedchamber. She at once felt vulnerable and emboldened that they were each wearing so little. “You claim you seek only an audience, but you also demand my sight – this is not so easily done. The spirits are fickle, and command a high price.” She walked as she spoke, gently gliding around Bilgemunky. She called upon her gifts to peer into his soul, seeking his fears, his desires.
“I’d pay any price,” he said, “any price at all to release my true love from the curse of the mystical pineneedle. To have Keira returned, I would gladly give up my possessions, my ship, my soul.”
“Alas, my price is nothing so harsh,” the Contessa smiled. She crouched down to pick Bilgemunky up. She wished to address him eye-to-eye, as lovers should. “You will spend this night with me,” she began, “and when our passions are spent, I will tell you what you need to know.”
The Contessa’s request hit Bilgemunky like a carp to the gut. His mind was a flurry as he weighed his options. Bedding the Contessa would violate the very nature of his quest – but it was for Keira’s own good, so surely she’d understand? And besides, it wasn’t like she would actually have to know…
“Aback, foul temptress!” Bilgemunky screamed, repeatedly smacking the Contessa’s forearms until she put him down. “For I love Keira, and your seductive wiles have no effect on me!” Rejected, the Contessa’s face twisted into a cruel snarl. But then her eyes met with Bilgemunky’s once again and she was instantly touched by such clear devotion. Her fury melted like a neglected Jamaican snow cone. For he was right, of course — she WAS a foul temptress. Not that being a foul temptress was without its perks, but the Contessa knew that true love was something she must forever be denied.
“Very well, my purple desire,” she said, “the spirits have been speaking with me, and they tell of a mighty Kraken, strong as a hundred warriors, with the temper of a thousand women scorned. I can break your lovely Keira’s curse, but I will need a tooth from this Kraken, although the journey will take a year and a day, and you must find a way to reach his lair, 30,000 leagues beneath the waves…”
“The Kraken?” interrupted Bilgemunky, “Heck, I beat him ages ago. I’ve been using his tooth as a key fob.” His face beamed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, complete with a cruel black tooth, curved and twisted as though forged by the devil himself.
“Well… that’s lucky,” the Contessa uttered in disbelief. “I guess I have work to do.”