Podcasts about Franklins

A Holiday Haunting: Part 4 A unique relationship paradigm. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. He had asked Erin what kind of food she wanted to try, and she said something new, with lots of flavor. Walking into the orange glow of the Thai restaurant and getting the scent of the food, Jack knew he had picked the right place. Erin looked so excited, her eyes darting to every plate as they got seated. "So, Siam is now Thailand?" Erin asked as soon as the waiter poured the waters and left the menus. "Yeah." Jack nodded. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask; are you okay?" "What? Why?" She lowered the menu, and her eyes widened. "Just want to make sure that you're not gonna fall asleep on me." Erin smiled and said, "I'm getting my eight hours. Can you help me with this menu?" Jack leaned over and tried his best to explain everything to Erin. He remembered her telling him that the food she used to eat in the 1880s was bland and boring. He got the idea she wanted something spicy but didn't want to scare her. He suggested Pad Thai, and picked something hotter for himself, a couple of appetizers and wine. "So, what did you do all day?" Erin asked as soon as they were alone again. "Nothing really. Replied to some emails, watched TV with my sisters, argued with my parents about politics ;  a typical holiday." "What would you be doing if you were back in Boston?" "Don't know. Maybe watch basketball, gym, go on the PlayStation, hit a couple of bars with friends." "PlayStation ;  that's the machine that you can play computer cartoons." "Close enough," Jack smiled, "What about you? How did you used to spend your free time?" "Working for the Franklins took up most of my time. I would be in that house for hours, sometimes the whole day. Any time I had to myself, I'd read or maybe go for a walk. Not really that entertaining. But now I can't wait to experience new things." "I know, I saw your list. What about today?" "Me and Lucy watched more movies. We watched some ones with a lot of action, which was terrifying. But I got through it." Jack wanted to quickly interject and ask what film that she saw, but let her carry on. "I tried to use Lucy's computer. But it was so hard and nothing worked. It looked so easier when you were using yours. I kept on forgetting about the Start button." "And I got this." Erin reached into her jacket pocket and showed Jack a red cellphone. It looked a little small compared to most modern phones and had some scratches around the sides. "I got from a store nearby and a prepaid plan. We can talk to each other now." "That's awesome," Jack said. He knew that there was something that he had forgotten to do for Erin. "Lucy helped me take a couple of selfies. I guess that's what girls like me do now. I created a Spotify account and I'm trying to find my taste in music. But I'm not joining Instagram or Facebook yet. Lucy said it's too early." "Yeah." Jack nodded, thinking if he should tell her the horror stories of social media. "Also, I know Beth is going to be trawling for your account and will immediately follow you." The food then arrived, and Erin's attention was drawn instantly to the plate set in front of her. Jack watched her, a mix of confusion and excitement at the various plates. He should probably try to explain everything. "These are the appetizers, that's pork gyozas ;  dough wrapped around a filling. Those are chicken satays ;  grilled chicken with sauce." Erin pointed to her dish and asked, "And I ordered; ?" "Pad Thai. A typical Thai dish ;  everyone should try it at least once. I got drunken noodles, there are hotter." Erin reached for a chopstick; her fingers and thumbs fumbled around the utensil. But to Jack's surprise, she got used to quickly them and tried everything in front of them. Seeing her face light up with every bite, he just grinned, like he was enjoying the food through her. "This all tastes amazing. So many spices and different flavors." "I thought food was better back in your time. Fresher, no chemicals or hormones." "Maybe. But we just boiled everything. And there was no taste." Jack carefully ate his noodles, making sure not to make a mess as he listened to Erin. She talked more about her plans; she was thinking about starting yoga. He didn't see it in Lucy's apartment but now could tell she was wearing makeup and looked even better. Her eyeliner made her green eyes pop, and she had a bold shade on her lips, making it so enticing. He needed to be alone with her. Erin caught him staring and smiled. She then said, "Me and Lucy were talking. And I think we got a story I can tell people." "Okay." "We got this idea after watching a true crime television show ;  Lucy loves those. So, I tell people I came from Ireland but I moved here when I was twelve. I lived with a very religious aunt and uncle. The Franklins. We lived away from other people and had a simple life." "So, you were in a fundamentalist sect?" "Yes. I didn't have a TV, no internet or modern music. I only interacted with the Franklins and other people in the community." "Okay. But why did you leave?" "The Franklins died." "And what happened between then and now?" Erin paused, looking like she was thinking of an answer. She took a sip of wine and said, "After I decided to leave, I travel to Boston and stay there, for some time? But; but it's too expensive and I meet Lucy and she lets me stay with her. I then meet you and; you know?" "That's perfect." After finishing their food, Jack ordered more wine and asked Erin what she thought about the meal. "I loved it." Erin said, wiping her lips with the napkin. "I always wanted to try something like this. Before I left Boston, there was this Chinese neighborhood. Just walking pass, I would be enticed by the aroma. But I could never walk into the neighborhood." He asked why but saw Erin go quiet and look nervous. It took Jack a moment before he understood, going to a Chinese block would be a major no-no for a white woman in 1890s Boston. "I lived in what is now called South End. Then it was a mix of Irish, Lebanese, Jewish, African-American, Greek. It was okay to speak with them and visit their stores. But the Chinese was a different story. I never understood why." "Do you miss Boston?" "Yes. When I arrived in the city, after weeks on that boat, I couldn't believe such a place could exist. So big, so many people. Visiting the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, getting lost in alleys exploring the city, having picnics at the Common." Looking at her, Jack thought about asking her something that he had been on his mind for a while. "Do you want to come to Boston with me?" "I would like that." They both leaned over the table and kissed, just a quick peck. But they stared in each other's eyes, a tension rapidly developing between them. Jack thought about asking about dessert, there was the Chocolate Bar a couple of blocks away, or that they go for another drink. But watching Erin, it felt she wanted to be alone with him. "Lucy told me something," Erin said in a hushed tone. "She will be working late and will be spending the night at a friend's." Jack nodded and flagged down the waiter. A human Copulation. "Lucy!" Erin called out as soon as they opened the door. Hearing no response, she turned and faced Jack. They both shared knowing smirks and quickly kissed. Erin moaned in his mouth as the kiss grew more lustful. She pressed herself against him and wrapped an arm around his neck. Erin wanted to feel closer to him. Jack loved every moment; having a gorgeous girlfriend draped over him would make any man ecstatic. Erin then took his hand and pulled it down to her ass. It was amazing how much she had changed in the last couple of days; the modest, sexually-na ve girl from the nineteenth century had disappeared. Erin moaned again as Jack cupped her ass. She broke their kiss and tilted her head towards Lucy's bedroom, Erin's green eyes sparkling as she grinned at him. Jack let her take the lead, pulling him into the bedroom. Erin slammed the door shut and quickly went to work on undressing Jack. She clumsily tried to unbutton his shirt but got nowhere and groaned. "You're wearing too many layers," Erin said, flashing him a half-smile. He pushed her back and immediately corrected his dress code. His jeans and the rest of his clothes then fell to the floor, and Jack then wrapped his arms back around her, kissing Erin's neck as he tugged on the zip. Her dress loosened, and Erin effortlessly slipped out of it, revealing her perky tits clad in a black bra. He didn't do it on purpose, but Jack moaned at the sight of her. How could he not? Erin stood in front of him wearing a black lace bra that just covered her bust, revealing a hint of her areolas. Below, she wore a matching lace thong. Super fucking sexy. Looking up, Erin had this smug smile on her face; she knew the effect she was having on Jack. She swayed her hips as she moved to him; Jack stayed slack-jawed as Erin pushed on the bed and straddled him. She lowered her head, and they resumed fervently kissing, writhing together. Jack reached around and unclasped her bra. Erin shimmied her body and slipped her hands out, tossing her bra away. Jack instantly grasped her free tits, enjoying the feeling of the soft flesh in his palm. Their lips still locked, he gently squeezed them, his thumb teasing her sensitive nipples. Erin responded by moaning into his mouth, egging him on. Jack pinched and pulled her erect bud, eliciting more moans from Erin. It got too much for her, and Erin pulled back. "Jack, I; I need you; inside me," she said, breathless. She rolled off him and got on all fours. There was something perverse in being fucked like an animal; Erin really wanted to feel that way again. She shuddered as she felt Jack's lips brush down her back as he carefully pulled down her panties, biting her lip and burning in anticipation. He slipped his hand between her thighs and found a very wet pussy. Erin trembled at his touch and moaned again. She begged for more and was ecstatic at having her cunt be invaded by Jack's finger. He then slid another one in, pushing them into her pussy. She gritted her teeth and hummed. Jack pulled his hand back, disappointing his panting girlfriend. His fingers oozed with her slick juices; shit, she's horny. He pressed his tip on the wet folds of her pussy and waited for a moan. Erin shook her head and whimpered as he thrust his cock in one slow push. "Oh yes;" Erin whispered, rolling her back and letting out another moan. Shuddering, her cunt muscles welcomed his cock, tightening around the shaft. Erin felt his hands on her ass, squeezing her cheeks as Jack slowly fucked, in long, gentle movements. It was just like being in the Franklin's bed, Erin going through the same electric sensations and loving every second of it. Erin threw her ass back, demanding his cock faster and harder. " more, more, more," she whimpered, matching his rhythm. Hearing her moans, Jack pumped his cock harder, watching his girlfriend's ass shake with every thrust. She pleaded for more and faster Jack went, pounding his cock. He loved how loud she was being. It was such an intensely erotic feeling, having a gorgeous woman cry for your cock. It urged him on, and the bedroom echoed with the sounds of their flesh slapping. Erin slammed her head on the pillow, stifling her cries as her body tightened, edging closer. She pressed down on the mattress and lifted her chest up, arching her back. Her right hand went for her left tit, clamping her fingertips around her erect nipple. While she pinched and pulled, her left hand slipped between her legs and found her engorged clit. "Oh; CHRIST!" She screamed. Erin dropped her mouth wide open, her limbs twitching as she hurtled to an incredible and intense climax. She inhaled sharply, gritted her teeth, close, so very close. Jack stopped and went still. He wrapped his arms around her waist and slammed his cock in slow, hard thrusts. It was too much for her. Erin shrieked, and her whole body shuddered; her fingers gripped the sheets, and her eyes rolled back into her skull, riding out an earth-shattering orgasm. "Oh; that felt good," Erin whispered, coming in down. Jack fell back, hitting the headboard. That was something. His still-hard cock slid out of Erin's drenched cunt. His throbbing shaft dripped with her slick juices. Taking a couple of deep breaths, his eyes focused on Erin and he used every ounce of willpower not to cum. She had this small, content smile on her face that looked so cute and yet very sexy. She grinned back at him, knowing what he was thinking. Her eyes drifted down to his glistening cock, and her smile went wider. She instantly regained her composure, getting on her back. Their eyes met again, and Erin wiped the sweat from her forehead before cupping her tits. Biting her lip, she pinched her nipples and spread her legs, eager for his cock, "Please." Jack quickly responded, shuffling forward with his cock in his hand. He leaned over her, feeling the heat from Erin's post-orgasmic glow. His throbbing tip brushed up against the soaked openings of her pussy. He rested his hands by her waist; she felt warm and slowly pushed his cock back in. Erin groaned and exhaled, her body vibrating, enjoying the incredibly fulfilling sensation of having Jack's cock back inside her. Intense heat rippled out from her cunt; her pussy muscles kneaded his pulsing shaft. Erin looked up at him, her eyes filled with lust and love. "Oh, yes;" Erin moaned as Jack bottomed out. She then wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him down; Erin needed to kiss him again. The mouths instantly parted, and their tongues met again. Moaning into his mouth while twirling her tongue, Erin hooked her legs around Jack's waist, pulling him closer. She let out an animalistic grunt like she had been penetrated by another inch of cock. Erin or Jack, or both, broke their embrace and locked eyes. Watching each other's faces contort while they rhythmically fucked each other senseless. "Oh, God!" Erin screamed, getting closer and closer. She fucked him right back, meeting every vigorous thrust by throwing her hips forward, slamming her pussy at his cock. Jack pushed her up and lowered his head, nestling his face in the crook of Erin's neck. He slowly kissed down her soft white flesh, reaching her tits. He enthusiastically sucked on her nipple while slipping his cock out, waited a moment, then rammed it back into her drenched pussy. His free hand eagerly groped her other tit. "Oh, Jack!" It was getting too much for Erin. She tightened her grip around Jack's waist and went stiff. She fucked him hard, hyperventilating and shaking. Erin hissed and cried his name out as she rode through another orgasm. She frantically thrust her hips, trying to extend her climax and begged Jack for more. He replied by pressing his teeth down her nipple, and that was it. Her pussy spasmed around his raging cock and she let out a long cry. "Yes; yes; Oh Lord; Jesus Christ!" She yelled. As Erin went limp in his arms, Jack could feel the familiar tingling sensation coming from his balls. He tried to put it off, still plunging his cock furiously. Both of them moaned and gasped for air, covered in sweat, wanting more. But Jack couldn't take it anymore; he threw his head back, roared as he shot a torrid of cum into her. His body jerked uncontrollably from the needed orgasmic release, each movement causing another shot of jizz. Erin sighed and moaned, feeling Jack's cock explode deep inside her, making her tremble in ecstasy. Another rope of his jizz filled her womb, followed by another. As Jack collapsed on top of her, his brain mushed in a post-climax daze, Erin held him tightly. She had a broad grin, smugly satisfied that her pussy was filled by her lover's cum. Quietly moaning, feeling the hot cum seep down her thighs, Erin leaned forward. Her tits pressed against Jack's chest as she kissed him. Recovering from the intensity of their orgasm, they passionately kissed before breaking, pressing their foreheads together. Their eyes were closed, and they slowly breathed. "I love you," they said in unison, before exchanging more kisses. Erin smiled back at Jack. Her hands trembled, and sweat flooded her face. It was happening again. She remembered her breathing exercises, focusing on five things in the room. It didn't work, and Erin sunk through the mattress, her hands phasing past Jack's body. His mouth dropped as he watched her go. She hit the floor of the room, thankful that she didn't go any further. Jack immediately jumped off the bed and checked underneath, finding her sprawled out on the carpet. "Are you okay?" Erin stared at the underneath of Lucy's bed and just whimpered, "; no." New Years Eve. Jack tried to pay attention to the conversation; he knew it was important. It was about Erin's condition and what they should do next. But when he saw Erin walkout, wearing a black lace dress, Jack struggled to pay attention to Lucy and her friend. Erin just looked too sexy. She caught him staring, and Erin responded with a smirk. "Circe; Circe; Circe!" Lucy yelled, "We already got the dirt." Jack quickly turned back to Lucy and her phone. She had been Facetiming with a witch, who supposedly knew what was happening to Erin. They hadn't completed the resurrection ritual properly. Lucy's witch friend said they had done around ninety percent of it. The remaining ten percent involved Jedidiah Franklin's grave dirt and New Year's Eve. "Shut up, bitch!" Circe shouted at Lucy. Glancing back at Erin, she and Jack exchanged another look. This didn't sound like it was going well. Lucy and Circe had spent around twenty minutes just name-calling, bringing up boyfriends they had shared and generally being dismissive at each other. What he understood was that Circe wanted them to do another ritual, while Lucy wanted to do something different. Anything, it didn't matter. "What is it with you witches and wizards? Sex magic all the time. Sprained your ankle ;  sex magic. Car won't start ;  sex magic. Have to go to small claims court ;  sex magic. Don't you have a book of spells?" "Aw the poor medium is stuck. God, you're so basic. You just repeat what spirits say, like a parrot with tits." "Shut up, Claire, you giant poser!" Lucy yelled. The raven-haired witch went quiet and completely still. Lucy even called out her name to check if the call had frozen. Jack got the sense that Lucy had crossed some line and should apologize. Seeing Circe's bulging eyes, he figured the apology should be sooner than later. But the call ended, and he let it go. "What do we do next?" Erin asked. "We still go out. It's New Year's Eve." Lucy said, her phone then buzzed, and she read the message. "It's Circe. She says that as Jedidiah Franklin was the one who killed you, he needs to be punished. We have to burn the dirt, evoke Frigga, you two get freaking with some mistletoe above the bed. When the dirt turns white ;  we're good. Then she called me; the c-word. She called me a cunt" Erin looked embarrassed on her behalf, looking at her feet and said, "Oh." Lucy shrugged it off. "I will make it up to her later." She stood up and checked the time; it was getting close to eight, they had some time to kill. "Jack, you call a cab. Me and Erin will get ready." Erin followed the blonde in her bedroom, taking careful steps as she hadn't gotten used to wearing heels. In the bedroom, a silver bucket sat next to the window with a tub filled with dirt lying next to it. Erin had joined Jack this time, driving to a graveyard near the coast. Lucy gave them instructions while working, listening to her transparently flirt with a customer for tips while they waited to be told what to do next. Lucy opened a drawer and pulled out two sticks of white chalk. Handing Erin one, she bent down and drew a circle around the bed. "You okay with another sex ritual?" Erin chuckled and said, "It's getting repetitive." She placed the grave dirt in the bucket and set it down in front of the bed, drawing a circle around it. "Will you be there ;  watching?" "I have to." Lucy laughed. "Do we have to do it today? I was looking forward to celebrating the New Year." "It has to be a special day like New Year's Day or say, February 1. Then there's the Spring Equinox, Midsummer, Halloween, the Winter Solstice. You want to wait until February to make sure you never walk through a door?" "Of course, no." Erin replied, "I want to move on with my life and forget about protective circles, sex magic, the Franklins." Wiping the chalk from her hands, Erin checked herself out in the mirror. The dress showed off a lot of her bare skin, and she didn't know what to feel about it. Seeing Jack's face, Erin knew she looked hot and loved the feeling. But then there were Mrs. Franklin's words, telling her that she looked like a Catholic succubus. At least her legs were covered; it was too cold to go without tights. Lucy then joined her by the mirror. She wore a more revealing outfit, a silver sequined V-neck dress, her large tits up for display. Seeing her like that, Erin could only imagine the reaction in the nineteenth century. This was the new normal now, and she had to get used to it. Lucy raised her phone up and took some photos, saying, "We look hot." Erin laughed and then did the same. They took a couple of photos of their reflections, then some selfies. It was kind of pointless, and no one was going to see it, but checking out the photos, Erin really liked how she looked. "You said we had to do it tonight. Should we still go out?" "Yeah." Lucy smirked, putting away her phone. She said, "One, whenever we do it, it has to happen at the witching hour ;  that's like at three in the morning. Two, it's your first New Year's Eve, you gotta celebrate it." Jack then knocked on the door and said, "The cab is coming in ten minutes." Approaching Normalcy. Erin liked how it felt having Jack's arm wrapped around, comforting. They were in a bar, a busy bar, sitting alone and waiting for Lucy. There were many people around her, and it took Erin some time to get used to being in a crowd. It wasn't like she was frightened or agoraphobic. She just got anxious about saying the wrong thing, letting people know that she didn't belong in this time. Then was the whole becoming incorporeal whenever she became nervous. Finishing a glass of wine helped Erin from phasing through the chair. The alcohol also helped her make small talk. A girl in the restroom had asked about her dress, wanting to know where she got it from. They talked for a bit more, and Erin returned to Jack, full of confidence. "Hey guys." Lucy sat down in front of them and placed a white plastic bag on the table. "I got the mistletoe for Frigga. I need a drink." Jack ordered another beer and two glasses of ros for them. "So, what is the plan for tonight?" Erin asked. "Drink here then go to a couple of bars and see what happens." Lucy then glanced at Jack, who shrugged a 'that sounds good' response. "What did you do all day?" "Nothing," Jack said, "Just emailed my boss and about me moving back to Boston." "Cool. Did Erin tell you what she did today?" Jack shook his head and turned to his girlfriend. "I went grocery shopping by myself." "That's really great," Jack said. "Once this thing goes away and I'm not afraid of passing through a bed, there's things that I want to do. I already got a plan." "Like what?" Lucy leaned in, finishing her wine. "First, I need a job, something that I can do and that's not far from Jack's apartment. And I'm looking at GED courses. Then a community college course." Lucy grinned and said, "That's fucking cool. We need some tequila to celebrate." Jack and Lucy showed Erin how to take a shot of tequila. She let out a long moan as the burn of the alcohol shocked her throat and quickly bit into the lime slice. They slowed down their drinking, Jack saying that they shouldn't be wasted for the ritual. Lucy agreed, worrying out loud that she could mess up and make Erin a ghost again. They talked for a while, trying to predict what would happen in the new year, before going to another bar. Then quickly another one, eventually ending up at the Cord & Rifle. It was more of a high-end hipster bar, which annoyed Jack and Lucy, and she worked there. The bartenders wore white shirts, suspenders and each had handlebar mustaches, looking like Civil War surgeons. This just confused Erin, wondering why people were pretending to be like that. "It's just; the trend," Jack said, sighing. Erin glanced at Lucy, and she was rolling her eyes but also nodding. They ordered more drinks, and Erin moved away from wine, trying what the bartenders said were authentic cocktails from her time. They were lying to her. Her eyes flickered to other patrons; they were all ordering expensive drinks, taking photos, deleting them, then retaking them. Their lips were stretched out in the smile, but their eyes stayed unmoved. This is what modern life is? Expensive drinks and pretending to be happy. She and Lucy were then in the bathroom, touching up their makeup. Erin turned her and asked, "Is New Year's Eve supposed to be; like this?" "Are you asking if New Year's Eve always this mediocre?" Lucy said, smirking. "Yeah. It's always a massive let-down. You got this pressure to have this epic night, everything is expensive, then there's that bullshit about getting a kiss at midnight." "A midnight kiss?" "It's some bullshit. Something that Hollywood and Hallmark love. I think it's real tradition behind it, probably something farming related. But now it's been romanticized to insane levels. If someone doesn't kiss you when the clock strikes twelve, then life is over." "Really?" "Stupid, isn't it?" Lucy sighed, "At least you got Jack." "You are not interested in meeting someone?" Erin asked, "There were some men that were checking you out?" She narrowed her eyes as she spoke, wondering if she used the right word. "I wasn't feeling it." Lucy shrugged. "Too many desperate creeps and fake-ass nice guys. You know that tavern-like bar we quickly left because of the vibe? Some girl tried to hit on me in the bathroom. It's been a while since I've been with a girl;" They then went quiet and stared at each other. A group of ladies woke them up, and they quickly left the bathroom. They had never discussed the kiss at the s ance, and Erin didn't know how she could ever bring it up organically. She couldn't make sense of it herself; why did she kiss her? It wasn't like she had this attraction to Lucy. Erin just rationalized that the s ance messed with her emotions, and that was it. Jack was waiting for them at the booth. He stopped them before they could sit. "Some guy was looking for Lucy. Lloyd?" "Lloyd? Oh, snap. Where is he?" "Outside. Said near the 7-Eleven." "We should get out of here." "Why?" Erin asked. "He's got the final stuff we need to for tonight." Lucy replied. "Oh," Jack smiled and handed them their jackets. They got outside and walked to the meeting point. He turned to Erin and said, "We're meeting Lucy's weed dealer." "Weed?" Erin asked. Lucy jumped in before Jack could open his mouth, saying, "It's marijuana, cannabis. You probably heard it as hash. We need it for the ritual." "Oh. Do you normally partake?" Nodding her head, Lucy smiled and said, "Yeah. It makes things less boring. Also, marijuana has been used in so many sacred and spooky things." "I do as well." Jack felt Erin give him a quick look, knowing that she was about to ask him the same thing. "Weed is legal in Boston. I smoke it time to time. Shame we don't have any dispensaries." "Same," Lucy quickly jumped in. "They say we might get dispensaries in Portland by summer." Erin stayed quiet, giving them both a long stare. "Are we supposed to just burn it?" She eventually asked, "Or we do smoke it?" "Both," Lucy replied. Erin remembered hash from when she first arrived in America, that weird feeling block of greenish-brown that her father would take as medicine. There was also a time when she was given cannabis fluid for an illness. The idea that people now took cannabis for fun interested her. "I would like to try some." Erin said, nodding her head. Both Lucy and Jack looked at each other, silently conversing before turning back to Erin, asking if she was sure. They mention PSAs, peer pressure and not wanting to force her into something she might not be ready for. Erin replied with a blank look, nodding her head but not really listening. "Before I was a char-girl, I worked in a factory. The fumes from the vats would give me migraines. Do you know what the druggist gave me?" Erin asked, slowly smiling. Both Jack and Lucy shook their heads. "Heroin," Erin said, "They used to give that to fussy babies as well. Also, the man who owned the house before you, Jack. I once saw him inhale white powder and act loony. I feel marijuana is safer." Lucy shrugged and walked away. She was back with a baggie filled with dark brown herbs a minute later. "All set?" Jack asked. "Yeah. Lloyd was pretty nervous and wanted to know who you guys are." "What did you say?" "Just a couple I had a quasi-threesome with." Erin was still blushing by the time they got to the final bar. It had more of an old-school look about it, reminding her of Ireland and the taverns where she would be sent to fetch her father. They got in just before the countdown. While everyone started counting down and looking at the screens, Erin lost her cocktail. The glass phased through her hand and smashed against the floor. Was it nerves? That the ritual wasn't going to work, or she could say to herself that she was excited, looking forward to the new year. While everyone celebrated, Erin ignored the lost drink and grabbed Jack, kissing him hard. If this wasn't going to work, she would at least have some fun. She quickly ended their embrace and then lunged at Lucy, giving the medium a long hug. After tonight, she needed to do something for Lucy, something to show her appreciation. Lucy broke their hug and smirked back at her. "Let's get out of here. Time for you to be human." More Dark Arts. Jack thanked that the burning pot was giving him a gentle high, otherwise he would be embarrassed. He, like Erin, sat in his underwear on Lucy's bed. A sprig of mistletoe was taped to the headboard behind them while white candles circled the bed. They watched Lucy burn some incense sticks while reading out of the grimoire. But every once in a while, Jack would catch the medium look up from the book and steal glances, her eyes focusing on the bulge between his legs. Erin did the same but acting a lot more obvious than Lucy. It was this weird horny circle. Jack tried to stay unaroused, which was getting more difficult with every passing second. Erin and her lacy bra would draw him in, and his cock throbbed with every look. "Are you okay?" Jack asked. Erin grinned and said, "Yeah." Looking at her, it was clear that she was getting a buzz from the pot. It was also affecting him, that or whatever Lucy was burning. He felt warm and eager. Jack needed to move, jump off this bed and do something. He looked at Lucy; she was still reading the grimoire and glancing up at them. Was she checking Erin out? Her attention had moved away from his bulge, focusing on Erin's heaving chest and her tits. Jack closed his eyes and shook his head; all the pot and incense made him think he was in a porno. Lucy then slammed the book shut and stood in front of them. Still wearing her sequin dress, she said, "It's time." "What do you want us to do?" Erin asked. "Yeah, you're the director." Jack added, smirking. "You guys start fucking. I will chant Frigga's name while you do it." Jack turned back to Erin; her green eyes told him she was ready. He pulled her close to him and kissed her passionately. Their lips parted, and they both moaned, also gasping for air. Erin grinned back at him, making Jack chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. He placed his hand on each side of Erin's face and pressed his lips back on hers. Jack thrusted his tongue into her mouth, suppressing a groan as he felt her hand cup his bulge. There was a moan ;  it may have come from Lucy as Erin freed Jack's cock. He couldn't explain it, but his cock was a stiff and hard as it ever had been. Maybe the stuff that Lucy had burned is what they make Viagra out of? Jack could feel his tip oozing copious amounts of precum and coating Erin's fingers. She broke from their kiss and looked down in amazement, drooling at the sight of his pulsating member. Erin desperately needed that cock inside her. She grabbed Jack and roughly pulled him down onto the mattress. He looked shocked at her sudden assertiveness. But before he could say a word, Erin sat between his legs and took his cock deep into her mouth. Both he and Lucy moaned their approval as Erin swirled her tongue along the underside of Jack's shaft. "Oh Frigga; Oh Frigga; Oh Frigga; oh fuck," Lucy said. She paced around the room, burning a bundle of sage while invoking a Norse goddess. She lost her focus as she saw Erin strip off her bra and bob her head on a massive cock. This was insane. Jack was stunned by Erin's drive and how badly she wanted his cock. Her naked tits bounced against his crotch, and Jack had to feel them again. Taking her perky tits in his hands, Erin moaned on his cock while Lucy had stopped speaking and just stared at them. Erin shuddered and then pulled her head from Jack's cock. She could have more fun blowing him, but right now, they needed to have sex. Erin looked up at him, replying with a big, content smile. She then stood up on the bed and wriggled out of her panties, giving Jack and Lucy a little show. She rested her left leg on the other side of his crotch and slowly sank. Erin grabbed his slick, throbbing cock and pressed against her pussy. "Jack; this is so wicked," she said with a big smile. She let out a long, deep exhale as she bent her knees and became impaled on Jack's cock. Erin's body involuntary shook as her eyes rolled back. Something was different this time, there was this raw, lewd feeling, but Erin wasn't complaining as Jack's cock pulsed against the walls of her pussy. She remained still, her eyelids down, and she breathed rapidly. Seeing Erin and Jack acting like there were in a porno, Lucy had forgotten what she was supposed to do. She stared at her friend's body or, more accurately, ogled Erin's nakedness. She looked hot. So did Jack. She didn't want to think about that now; that would be later when Lucy was alone with her vibrator. She stood in front of the silver bucket and lit a match. "Oh Frigga. Please take fortune on Erin and punish the man who wronged her," she said, looking up. Lucy flicked the match into the dirt, it burned into a bright white flame and went back to enjoy the show. Erin rested her palms on Jack's chest and slammed herself up and down on his cock. She had thrown her head back; her eyes were closed, and she hummed to herself as she forcefully rode Jack. Her tits bounced to Lucy's and Jack's delight, eager to be touched. Those herbs that Claire picked had really fucked with her head; she knew she was never this bi-like. Erin then arched her back and squeezed her tits, pulling on her erect nipples. "Oh Lord; yes!" Erin cried, nearly sending herself off to her first orgasm of the night. Seeing her moan and cry for more was an incredible sight for Jack. It was love. Seeing his girlfriend ride his cock with such passion was unbelievable. He wrapped his arms around her firm ass and raised his hips. He saw Erin appreciate the slight change, his cock thrusting deeper into her slick pussy. She was getting close; he could sense it. But then Erin slowed down, and Jack had to yawn. Turning his head, Lucy was down, sleeping on the floor. He felt weak, and his eyes were heavy. Erin collapsed on top of him ;  in a deep sleep like before. Jack shook his head, thinking that it would help. He then prodded Erin and yelled her name, but nothing. He couldn't fight it anymore and slowly drifted asleep. The Attic, Again. Jack's eyes opened, and he knew something was different. This isn't Lucy's bedroom. Sitting up, he knew where he had been transported to, the attic. It wasn't was like the other week when he woke up in 1897 and watched Erin die. There was nothing in the attic this time, no lanterns, steamer trunks or the presence of anyone, just exposed brick and worn floorboards. Something had happened. Sitting up, he noticed that he had been on Lucy's bed. Looking to his side, Erin lay in a deep sleep. Weirdly enough, she was wearing the same black lace dress. To his left, he heard snoring. Turning his head, Lucy slept, also wearing the same dress she had on from earlier. Seeing her was surprising; Jack expected it would be just him and Erin transported back in time. That's what would make sense. He reached over to his right, gently rubbing Erin's arm. "Erin? Erin?" Nothing. Jack then turned to Lucy and called out her name. Again, nothing. Getting up, Jack walked around the attic. There had to be something they needed to do. Or something they did wrong. He raised his hand up; there was something different. There was a dry heat coming from somewhere in the room. Jack tried to ignore it, focusing on the door. He pushed it a couple of times, it didn't move. He slammed his shoulder against it; the door didn't budge; there's no give. "Ah; ," a female voice moaned. Jack rushed back to the bed, seeing Erin stirring. She slowly opened her eyes and said, "Jack?" Erin then sat up, turning her head, taking in the change. "No." "It's okay. It's not like it was before. Something is different," Jack said. He then pointed to Lucy, who was still asleep, "She's also here." "Lucy," Erin said, her eyes widening. She jumped to her feet and moved to the blonde medium. She shook Lucy, yelling her name. "Fuck; leave me alone. Shit." Lucy groaned, pushing away Erin. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. With one eye open, she scanned their surroundings. "Where the fuck are we?" "The attic," Jack said. "It's weird. There's a door but it's not opening. And, I don't hear anyone." "No Franklins?" Erin asked, wrapping her arms around herself. Jack extended out his hand and gently rubbed Erin's shoulder. "No. We're alone." He slipped off his blazer; it was getting too hot, and then sat back on the bed. He glanced at Lucy, waiting for her to think of something. She stood up and paced in front of the bed. "Okay. Remind me again. What happened last time? Was it the same?" Jack shook his head, "No. Not like this. I was watching the Franklins and Erin going through their day. It was like when Scrooge goes back to the past. They couldn't hear me or see me. But I could go anywhere. Not just this attic." "Same for me. I just woke up," Erin said, "And I thought everything went back to how it was. But then I saw myself; as a maid. Then Jack." "Okay, let me think." Lucy said, still pacing. Watching the blonde walk back and forth, Jack rolled his eyes and undid the top button of his shirt. He looked down at his feet, realizing he was tapping his foot. There was something about this attic; it was making him feel hot and restless. Erin joined him on the bed, and Jack quickly got distracted by her. She just looked so sexy; he was desperate to continue what they were doing back in Lucy's apartment. Looking at Erin, Jack noticed that she had the same problem. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. Her fingers drummed against the mattress and her legs jiggled. Lucy rushed back to them, her skin glossy and her face flush. "I think Frigga wanted something else. Like you have to be here for the final bit." "Yeah okay. But why did the spirits or Frigga or whatever drag you here as well?" Jack asked. Lucy shrugged, "I'm part of this." "How?" Erin said, slowly playing with her hair. "I mean you did use my body to have sex. And remember when we first summoned you? You kissed me." Jack glanced at Erin; her face was crimson. Turning back to Lucy, "Do you think the kiss had effect something." "No. I think whatever force, being, god, kept Erin in your home and then made her corporeal for real; they must think I am part of it. That's why I was taken here as well." Lucy said. Jack let out a long sigh and then said, "I'm so glad that I called you instead of that Starry guy from Dover." "His real name is Stan and he's a big piece of shit," Lucy said, rolling her eyes. She turned to Erin, asking, "I need to know more about the kiss. Why did you do it?" Erin stayed quiet. She stared at her feet but eventually looked up. "I just felt so overwhelmed when I found myself back in Jack's room." "Overwhelmed?" Lucy repeated. "Yes. Becoming a body again, there were so many emotions. Confusion, love, jealousy, lust." "But you kissed me, right?" Lucy asked, arching an eyebrow. "Nothing forced you to?" Erin buried her head in the hand, going red again. She took a deep breath and said, "No. It was me. I don't know why. I was angry at you but also, I was thankful. Possessing you ;  twice! A feeling lingered." She paused and then added, "I felt you liked it." Hearing this, Jack covered his mouth, muffling a moan. "Hell yeah, I did," Lucy said, "It was like you're reading my mind ;  you probably did. Haven't been kissed like that in ages. No offence Jack." "None taken," Jack said, just whispering. "Maybe that's why I'm here. Let me think," Lucy said again, her tone breathless and weak. She then sat back on the bed, next to Jack. They went quiet. The only sound that filled the room was the creaking of the bed as all three fidgeted. Lucy tightly gripped the sheets, forcing herself to stay still. Erin instead rested her head on Jack's shoulder, running her hand over his chest. He responded by slowly stroking her thigh. The sound of fidgeting disappeared, replaced with heavy breathing. "You should fuck already," Lucy shouted. She looked at them, her face flush and with deep desperation in her eyes. "You sure?" Jack asked. "It will please Frigga," the medium quickly said, "Like you complete the final ritual in the room where Erin died. So, you should do it now. I will just watch. And you should fuck." Jack looked back at Erin; she had this mischievous grin that told him yes. He kissed her, driving his tongue into her mouth, pulling her in. She moaned, her eyes shut, and she trembled as Jack pulled on the dress zipper. She went limped, letting him quickly undress her. Christ, she wanted him. Pulling the straps down, Jack smirked and marveled at his girlfriend's lingerie-clothed body. She wore that sexy lace bra again, and she looked amazing. Immediately, his hands were on her tits, squeezing them through the thin fabric. Erin then swatted his hands away and reached behind, unhooking her bra. He thought he heard Lucy moan, but Jack ignored it. He leaned his head down and gently kissed Erin's tits, his hands caressing her pale flesh. He ran his tongue around her sensitive nipples, teasing her with a quick flick. Erin pushed down on his head as Jack sucked on her tits, moaning and throwing her head back, waiting for more. Jack ignored her and pushed Erin back. He kissed down her body, loving how soft her skin felt on his lips. He stopped when he felt the hairs of her pussy. Pulling her panties down, Erin hadn't shaved anything yet; thin rust-colored strands surrounded her lips. He lowered his head and poked the dewy folds of her pussy with his tongue. Erin cried and covered her mouth. After that night with the s ance, Erin craved the sensation of his tongue driving her pussy wild. She then felt an arm wrapped around her from behind; Lucy. She was hugging Erin; the blonde medium's hands were dangerously closed to her tits. This felt wrong, completely against the teachings of the Church, but Erin didn't care. Over the sounds of Erin's moans, Jack moved his tongue to her clit. Just by giving the engorged bud a couple flicks, Erin cried and shuddered. He stopped and looked up, she was breathing heavily, and her lips were trembling. Also, she and Lucy were in this embrace that looked hot. Jack dropped his head back and kissed her clit as he slid two fingers deep into her wet folds. Erin's eyes bulged. She gasped for air. "More; please more;" Erin cried; she didn't want Jack's attack to stop. Lucy's eyes widened as she carefully watched every movement Jack made with his tongue. A deep heat quickly enveloped her. Her hand dropped from Erin's side and onto her own thigh. The couple was too wrapped up in themselves; they wouldn't notice her, right? Also, they were about to fuck in front of her, she would be well in her right to play with herself. But then Erin shuddered, and Lucy focused her energy on keeping the former spirit steady. "Oh Lord yes," Erin screamed. Her thighs clamped around Jack's head, and she bucked her hips. She let another intense cry and then went rigid. Erin shuddered on the bed as the coming orgasm thundered through her body. Sweet juices dripped from her pussy, and Jack hungrily ran his tongue over her folds, loving the taste. Erin soon stopped trembling and released her grip around his neck, letting Jack up. Erin wiped the drops of sweat on her forehead and then looked at Jack, "I need; you. Please." Jack smirked and slowly started to strip. She didn't want to relax, take a breath or stop sweating. As he fiddled with the buttons, he felt two hands on him. Turning to his right, Lucy stood next to him. She gave him an intense stare, and his mind flicked back to when they were on the sofa together. Erin didn't seem to notice or maybe didn't even care. She had a big smile on her face, giving Jack the thought that if he kissed Lucy, Erin wouldn't mind. Lucy nodded at him and gave him a small smile. She battered his hands away and quickly stripped Jack of his shirt. She ran her hand down his chest, accidentally or not. Jack helped her out by slipping out of his shoes while Lucy played with his buckle. She pulled his jeans down and looked at his bulge, then back up at him. Jack wondered if she was going to touch it or not. But instead, Lucy yanked down his boxer-briefs, joining Erin in moaning at the sight of his erection springing free. She mumbled something at him. Jack heard it as showtime, and Lucy pushed forward on the bed and back into Erin's arms. She pulled him down on top of her and into a long, passionate kiss, their tongues twisting together. Erin spread her legs as Jack centered the tip to her opening. Again, he felt another hand, this time around his shaft. His eyes were close and remained that way, not wanting to know if it was Erin or Lucy who was guiding his cock. It was hotter that way. They all moaned as Jack sank his cock deep into Erin's wonderful pussy. He heard his girlfriend whimper as he was entirely buried in her cunt. She then shocked Jack by raising her hips and wrapping her legs around his waist, constricting him. Something felt different. As Erin's pussy caressed and massaged his shaft, she felt tighter, wetter and a lot hotter. Erin looked up at him, her eyes half open and her lips pursed. She felt the muscles of her pussy ripple around his shaft. Jack hadn't moved, letting his thick cock pulsate in her cunt as she whimpered. Erin needed it; there was an aura around her, desperate and very energetic. She then loosened her grip around his waist and nodded her head, trembling at the first slow thrusts. "yes, yes, yes," she moaned. While they fucked, Lucy laid next to them. She needed to be naked. Pulling on the thin straps of her dress, Lucy stripped down to her underwear. She saw both Jack and Erin turn to her as she exposed her large tits. She gave them a wink and slid a hand underneath her panties, feeling her slick pussy. Having two attractive people fucking right in front of her was making her wet with lust. "Yeah;" Lucy said, rubbing her pussy lips with the palm of her hand. Jack held on to Erin, pinning her arms back and thrust his cock harder. He grunted while she whimpered at every stroke. Erin then threw herself at him, slamming her crotch on his piston-like cock. He then released her hands and went for Erin's shaking perky tits. With his fingers wrapped around her nipples, Jack stabbed his cock in long, sharp thrusts as he pinched "Yes! Yes! Oh Lord; Jesus Christ!" Erin cried. She could feel herself getting stiff and very hot. Her moans were overlapped by Lucy's. She turned her head and saw her friend staring at her, biting her lip and trying not to come. Her panties were gone, and she had two fingers stuck deep in her pussy while also playing with her clit. They were at the same stage. Their eyes stayed glued to one another's as Erin started to shudder. Jack held onto her waist, frantically driving his cock deep into her dripping pussy. Erin alternated from either gasping for air or groaning. Lucy was the same. Her eyes lowered to the blonde's lips, and Erin's mind threw back to when the s ance and how she needed to kiss her. Trembling, Erin pressed her lips against Lucy's full pink lips. The blonde medium moaned and immediately opened her mouth, slipping her tongue past Erin's parted lips. She and Lucy had their eyes closed as they got more into it, and quickly, their soft moans turned to muffled cries, both cumming immediately. "Ah!" Erin and Lucy screamed at each other, the sound dampened by their glued together mouths. Erin broke away from the medium and turned back to Jack. Her pussy spasmed over his pounding cock, while bucking her hips as she thrashed, prolonging her climax. Watching her, Lucy cupped her own tits, tugging her nipples with her free hand while ramming her fingers hard and deep in her cunt. She shuddered then jerked forward, letting a long shriek and writhed on the bed. Coming down, they laid on the mattress, drenched in sweat and panting. Erin looked at Lucy, ignoring her boyfriend and the fact he was plowing his throbbing cock in and out of her pussy. Lucy smiled back, and they kissed again. Their tongues outstretched and twisted together. Jack couldn't hold back anymore. All lesbian action is incredibly erotic, but when it involves someone who you love, it's out of this world, and he came immediately. He tried to warn her, but just a satisfied groan left his lips. Jack then shuddered at each pulse of his cock, his cum filling his gorgeous girlfriend. She wrapped her legs back around him and worked the muscles of her pussy, wanting more cum. His cock stopped twitching, and Jack went weak, struggling to stay upright and not collapse on top of her. He crashed back on his ass and arched his back, looking to the ceiling. The pounding of his heart had gone, replaced by a gentle beat. The same restless came over him. Looking at Erin, seeing his cum leak out of her cunt, he was desperate for another round. Lucy crawled in front of him, gripped his slick cock and said, "Let me clean you up." Her tongue probed his tip, lapping up the cocktail of his cum and Erin's pussy juices. Before Jack could react, Lucy opened her mouth and swallowed his head. She bobbed her head, resurrecting his cock back to life. Making eye contact with Erin, she just smiled; it was okay. Jack looked back down, running his hand through Lucy's hair. The blonde slid her lips up and down his shaft, mouth-fucking Jack with intense, otherworldly pressure. Lucy then ran her tongue up and down his shaft, licking the entire length. Jack stared at Erin, his eyes bulging as the medium drove his cock down her throat, his tip pushing further and deeper. She hummed in delight before releasing her grip, her teeth scraping against his sensitive skin as Lucy pulled her head back. Jack then watched her and Erin exchange looks, Lucy letting her mouth drop and biting her bottom lip. Her eyes widened, and Erin just responded with a nod and a small smile. Lucy gave his cock one last kiss and then crawled up the mattress. She laid on her back, her knees bent and thighs spread open, displaying her shaved crotch and delectable pussy. "You need to fuck her," Erin said, kneeling by Lucy, her face blank. Nodding his head, Jack shuffled forward and rested his hands on Lucy's knees. His cock was painfully hard, pointing directly to the blonde's dripping pussy. With complete ease, Jack slid his cock deep into her. She felt so tight. Just like Erin, Lucy's pussy felt snugger around his cock, also blazing hot and slippery with juices. Jack moved his hips, long deep thrusts while he grunted. He grabbed her legs, holding them together as he pounded Lucy's cunt. "Fuck; Jack; you cock feels so good," Lucy sighed. She moaned again and bit her lip, then rolled her head side to side. Erin was on her knees, in a trance, while she watched them. Lucy could see her friend's pussy, wet and needed to be kissed. They had kissed before; this is just a natural progression. Lucy reached up and pulled Erin's hand away from massaging her tits. "Get on top of me," she said in a whisper. Erin trembled at her touch, and Lucy needed to repeat herself before she understood what to do. She nodded her head and swung her legs over Lucy's head. She looked to the sky, ignoring Jack and lowered her crotch down. She shook and yelped, a very high pitch cry as her pussy touched Lucy's already parted lips and her extended tongue. It wasn't that wrong to have another woman feel her. Lowering her head, Erin made eye contact with her boyfriend and said, "Jack; she's licking my pussy!" She writhed and grounded her crotch on Lucy's mouth. The blonde kissed her throbbing lips, making her twitch with delight. Erin then felt Lucy grab onto her thighs and push her powerful tongue deep inside her pussy, her juices coating the medium's face. Erin moaned again; this felt different from Jack eating her out, a lot more wicked. Her hands reached, and she lewdly pinched on her erect nipples, moaning with a jolt of pain. Jack still held onto Lucy's legs, furiously pumping his cock as he watched Erin go crazy with lust. His eyes stayed glued on Erin, watching her squirm and whimper. He imagined what Lucy was doing to his girlfriend, exploring Erin's dripping pussy with her tongue, moaning at the taste of her hot, sweet juices. It overwhelmed Jack, and he slammed fuck the medium. Erin couldn't take it anymore. As Lucy thrust her tongue deep inside Erin's pussy, she felt something brush against her sensitive clit. That was it for Erin. She arched her back and then spasmed, wailing a scream of pure ecstasy. She could hear Lucy moan, maybe begging for more. Erin grinded her cunt against Lucy's rolling tongue, riding out her climax until she finally stopped, collapsing against the headboard. With Erin off her, Lucy gasped for air. Her face was wet with slick pussy cum. She made eyes with Jack, who had let go of her legs and was just staring back at her with a piercing look. He dropped down and licked his girlfriend's juices off her. Lucy felt his hands on her large tits, kneading them as he pounded her cunt. He then planted his lips on her neck, kissing up to Lucy's ear lobe. She shuddered as she felt Jack's breath ag

A Holiday Haunting: Part 3 Jack, Erin and Lucy deal with the final complication; Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Jack visits the Franklin Home. Jack opened his eyes. He was instantly wide awake. It didn't take him long to realize that Jack was somewhere else, definitely not his bedroom. He was in his living room; yeah, it had to be. The room had the same shape, but there were no lights, electronics or anything modern. Ornate wood and gold-framed paintings filled the walls. The room felt smaller, but Jack noticed a massive fireplace that must have been removed before his parents bought the house. He had to be in 1898. It was the only thing that made sense. An older man walked into the room, but he didn't notice Jack sitting on the chair. Again, Jack was quick to understand; he was the ghost this time around. He couldn't touch anything, but could sit and stand, like Erin after the s ance. Looking down, he found himself wearing the same clothes before the ritual. The older man looked like he was in his sixties, overweight and balding salt and pepper hair. He reminded Jack of a railroad baron in old westerns. He had these large sideburns that went down to his chin. Jack couldn't help but stare at him. He guessed that the man was Jedediah Franklin. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and stood next to the fire. Jack could hear him speaking to himself but couldn't make out what he was saying. They were soon joined by another. A woman, in her sixties, walked into the room. Stone-faced and with grey eyes, she looked miserable. She was wearing this dark blue, nearly black ruffled dress that had this deep, sweeping skirt. If the man was Jedediah Franklin, she had to be Alice Franklin. She joined her husband at the fire and said, "Where is Robert?" "In the library," he answered. "And that jezebel?" "Fixing herself supper." "She cannot stay. She talks about marriage." "We cannot just force her out," Jedediah Franklin said, staring at the fire. "What? Let her marry your only son?" He turned and glared at his wife, "You think I would allow that Irish fucking whore to be part of this family? No, she must be silenced. She cannot speak to anyone about this." Alice Franklin slowly smiled and said, "Then we are at agreement. But it must be tonight." They both nodded and turned to watch the fire. Jedediah Franklin snaked an arm around his wife's waist while she rested her head on his shoulder. It would have looked like a heartwarming moment, but they were planning a murder, and it just pissed off Jack even more. The way they talked about death, so casual and just to avoid a minor scandal, disgusted Jack. Needed to get away, Jack caught Erin walking past in the hallway. He ran after her, following her into the kitchen. "Erin? Erin?" He said, standing in front of her. She didn't respond. It wasn't the Erin he knew. She had her hair tied in a bun, her face disinterested and a little tired. She slowly washed the dishes, staring dead-eyed at the water. Jack then followed her as she went about with her chores. He had called out for Erin, his Erin, but only got silence. Going back to the alive-Erin, Jack got it. He needed to see her die, to understand what happened to her. It made sense to him. A younger man, looking like a mix of Jedediah Franklin and weirdly enough for Jack, himself. Robert. Dressed in a black three-piece suit, he didn't have his father's impressive muttonchops but a simple beard. Jack watched him stare at Erin, taking in her every movement as she did her chores. Erin was putting away a jar, leaning up to place it in a cabinet when Robert approached her. He quickly trapped her in the corner of the room. He smiled and said, "Erin." She jolted, nearly dropping the jar. Erin then turned and clutched her chest. "Oh Robert, you frightened me." "I have to see you tonight." Robert stroked her cheek and grinned. "In the attic?" "Your mother and father?" "Please," he replied. Erin nodded. Lucy's Post Coital. Lucy shook awake. She was on Jack's bed, naked and warm. Her hand slithered down her nude body, liking how it felt, stopping at her crotch. A big dirty smile appeared on her face as Lucy slid her hand between her legs. Jack's cum dripped out, coating her fingers and her thighs. The guy knew how to fuck; she'd give him that. It was a hot show. But Lucy turned her head and realized that she was alone. No Jack. No Erin. She jumped off the bed and yelled their names. It was getting close to two in the morning. Lucy ran to Jack's bathroom and cleaned herself up, she usually would take her time with post-sex cleanup, but she rushed through it. Lucy then emptied out her overnight bag and quickly got dressed. Opening the grimoire, she tried to find clues on what had happened. Sex magic and resurrecting the dead don't make people disappear. Frantically flipping through the pages, this was not supposed to happen. Lucy could feel her heart thumping, and her hands were trembling, where did she send Erin and Jack. She then heard a thud from downstairs, and Lucy stopped. This was getting weird. Jack's parents, she realized. Fuck, if they were awake, she will be in a lot of trouble. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" Lucy yelled to herself and ran out of the room. An Attic Nightmere. Jack had followed Robert upstairs to the attic. He struggled to see how the space would be turned into his bedroom. A massive trunk, a decrepit dollhouse and an ancient full-length mirror covered in rust were the only things that filled the space. It looked more like a scene from a clich d horror movie. While Robert waited on Erin, Jack circled around him. He had this vibe that Jack really hated. Like he was some entitled frat boy. Jack had read about him, failed business ventures, multiple marriages, some for money. Robert finally lost it all in 1929 and disappeared from public record. They both turned, hearing someone coming up. Erin was carrying a lantern as she walked to Robert, a big smile on her face. This wasn't going to be pretty, Jack said to himself. "Robert," she said, resting the lantern on the trunk. Erin then gave him a long hug, wrapping her arms around him. Robert just kept his arms by his sides and looked away. Jack sighed, knowing that there was no point in getting angry. She then kissed him and said, "I'm so sorry. I was a fool and the drink got on me." "It is fine, my darling." Robert then rested his hand on her stomach. "Are you?" "No. I am not with child." Erin glanced at this hand and then back up, hopeful. "I want to be; with you." "I wish that as well. But soon. I; we have dealings that need to be cleared. But I wish it too. And when these deals;" Jack couldn't watch Robert struggle to pacify Erin with vague words anymore. He saw something move behind Erin. There was someone else. The figure then struck Erin in the back of the head. It took a step closer, Jedediah Franklin with a fireplace poker in his hands. Erin was on the floor, bleeding but still alive. Her eyes focused on Robert, and she called out his name. The elder Franklin aimed the poker and swung for the final blow. He had to look away. Jack couldn't watch her die; it was too much. But there Erin stood, alongside Jack; her hair undone and flowing and looking at him. Her apron was gone, and she had undone the first two buttons of her shirt like before. Her face dropping and she raised a hand, blocking her view of her own dead body. "I always hated this moment. Watching my body handled like meat," Erin said. Her tone was more of annoyance and disgust than sadness. "I'm so sorry." Erin took his hand and held it close to her. "There's nothing you could've done. This is where I was, whenever I wasn't with you. Seeing my death over and over." "Was that why you didn't want to believe in the ritual?" "Somewhat. While I couldn't touch anything, and possibly be treated as some curiosity. I would have taken being a specter than watch this again." Alice Franklin had joined them in the attic. She held on to the lantern as Jedediah and Robert lifted Erin's dead body, directing them down the stairs. Jack visibly winced as he heard the Franklins mock Erin and ask if someone should have done the last rites. "There is something that I must tell you," Erin said, taking a step closer. Their faces inches apart. "When Patrick died, he lost all our money in a card game. I was told that I've become too old to marry and I should just work. The Franklins gave me a job and I felt that was it. Then I met Robert. I felt my life had begun again." Erin gave a faint smile and carried on, "We courted for a few months, until he took me while his mother and father were in New York. Weeks passed and I thought that I was with child. I told him and he choked me." "I knew that I picked the wrong man. But still believed that I could be something more than a maid through him. That he could take me away from a bucket. Now I have you. You make me hopeful. What I want to say is that I love you. I know I am this spirit and; Jack interrupted her and said, "I love you too." He grinned. They kissed again. Erin wrapped her arm around his neck, pushing herself against his chest. She parted her lips and moaned, welcoming Jack's invading tongue. He had his hand resting on the small of her back, not letting her go, and their tongues twirled. Erin then broke their embrace. Her lips turned into a smirk; she had a dirty idea. "Let's leave. I hated this room. Well, until it was changed." She then took him downstairs. Both were soon running and laughing. Erin pulled him into the master bedroom and pushed him onto the bed. This room would later belong to Jack's parents. Thankfully for him and his erection, the room was completely different in 1898. A lot of heavy furniture, with drapes everywhere and a parquet floor. He was lying on the bed, a four-poster bed that was made out of solid wood, while the mattress was very soft and lumpy. Erin crawled and laid next to him. She quickly got on top of him and stared into his eyes, a small smile forming on her face. She pressed her lips to his, swiftly parting them and sliding her tongue out. The tips of their tongues met again, snaking over each other as their bodies grinded. They tore through their clothing, ignoring any damage as they got nude, Erin especially not caring at the state of her ripped uniform. She wished to never see it again. Jack kissed down her neck and reached her milky, perky tits. He instantly attacked them with his mouth, giving both nipples considerable attention. Erin's breathing was becoming more rapid; a deep, warm glow rippled from her crotch. She pulled Jack up, her eyes drifted down, focusing on his powerful erection. It was making her mouth water. She wanted another taste. Her delicate, soft fingers wrapped around his heavy shaft, and she looked back at Jack. Smirking at him. Just like minutes, hours or maybe days before, Erin kneeled in front of Jack's cock. She had no explanation for why he was here, in purgatory with her, but if this was to be the end, she really wanted one more taste of his cock. She made him groan as she brushed her lips against his swollen head. Erin parted her lips, ready to suck on his tip, but stopped. She looked up at Jack; he had this kind look, his eyes dilated, and he just smiled back at her. Erin could feel herself glow, and she went back to his cock, carefully guiding the head to her waiting mouth. She was scared for a moment, missing Lucy's guiding voice. But soon, Erin's cravings took over and she slurped on his tip, swirling her tongue around it. Erin then wrapped her fingers around the shaft, looked Jack in the eye, slowly bobbing her head up and down. It was easier this time. Erin felt more confident in swallowing his cock. She scooted forward, her perky tits pressing on his balls as she took in another inch of his cock. "Oh, god. Erin," Jack said, stunned. He couldn't believe the change in Erin. She was swallowing more and more of his cock with complete ease. But they both stopped and looked up; they had a visitor. Alice Franklin walked around the bed, going to the dresser, totally ignoring them as she searched the drawers. Jack pulled his focus away from her to Erin; she looked as confused as he was. She released his cock from her lips but slowly stroked it as she stared at Mrs. Franklin. Seconds passed, but there was no reaction from the older woman. Jack waved at her and even Erin called her name, addressing her formally as she used to do. But Mrs. Franklin didn't respond. She didn't just ignore them; to them, it felt like couldn't see them at all. Jack stroked Erin's chin and pointed to his cock. Erin grinned and lowered her mouth down, sensually kissing the tip. She then ran her tongue up and down the underside of his shaft before swallowing the head. Jack moaned again. Erin firmly sucked on the head, slurping on it as her hand worked the shaft. She had her eyes on him, watching Jack's contorted face. He loved it. Erin now hunched over Jack's cock, ready to take more of it. She took him deeper and deeper, his head grazing the back of her throat. She remembered Lucy's advice, taking it slow and breathe. Erin didn't gag, her throat stretched out and eagerly taking his full length. "Erin! Fuck. That feels so good." Erin was ecstatic hearing those words and moaned on his cock. She had her lips pressed against his crotch, completely buried and held him there till her eyes started to water. Slowly, Erin pulled back and wrapped her hand around his wet, drool-covered shaft, pumping her fist as she sucked on Jack's throbbing tip. With her eyes locked on his, Erin bobbed her head on his cock. She pulled her hand back and forced the rigid pole into her throat again. Jack grunted in appreciation, shuddering as he felt her tongue. He reached out, brushing strands of her auburn hair away from her face. He couldn't believe it, a teenage crush that he was now in love with, enthusiastically sucking on his cock. With his other hand, Jack grasped her perky tits, squeezing the flesh to her delight. Alice Franklin returned to the room, joined by Jedediah. But both Jack and Erin didn't care. She stayed focus on his cock, moaning on his shaft as she felt Jack pinch and pull her nipples. She actually wished the Franklins could see her, sucking a penis in their bed. "Oh god, Erin. I'm going to cum soon if you keep that up." Erin as tasted his precum, she remembered Lucy showing her videos of women swallowing men's semen. Seeing those women and recalling when she caught Lucy and Jack together, she was intrigued. She pondered the taste and how it would feel. She pulled his cock out of her mouth, beads of spit dripping down the corner of her lips. Erin narrowed her eyes and said, "I want to taste your cum, Jack." Erin then stuffed his cock back in her mouth. She frantically bobbed her head while pumping her fist along his veiny shaft. She would stop for a moment, swirling her tongue over the sore head, then going back to thrusting her mouth up and down. Erin knew that Jack was close; he was grunting and shaking, his cock wildly twitching in her mouth. "Oh, Erin. Fuck;" Jack clenched his fists, wanting to grab something as he released a torrid of cum in Erin's open mouth. Her eyes widened, but she kept on stroking his cock, filling the back of her throat with more jizz. They both groaned as more spurts erupted, hitting Erin in the lips and chin. Whatever magic that brought him here had an effect on his penis; he'd never cum that much. One more release, and Jack was done, collapsing on the bed. Erin raised her head, looking at him and swallowed his load. It tasted salty and unusual, but still, she craved more. Erin ran her fingers over her chin and lips, scooping up blobs of his jizz before sticking her finger in her mouth. She wanted to try that again. Jack pulled her up and gently kissed her on the lips. As Erin parted her lips and allowed his tongue to invade her mouth, Jack wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. She pressed her tits against his chest as their tongues dueled. Jack slid his hand down, feeling up Erin's toned ass. "That was perfect," Jack said, now kissing down her neck. "Thank; Oh," Erin replied, Jack's already erect cock. "You feel passionate," she said, stroking his cock, "We should try again? Dog-style?" Jack grinned and said, "You mean doggy-style?" "Okay," Erin laughed. Jack smirked back at her, she's so cute. He then slowly pushed Erin down, getting on top of her. His cock was already incredibly hard, painfully hard, rubbing against her thigh. He had never recovered this quickly after cumming. Jack just chalked it up to the sex magic. He broke their kiss and sat up. Reaching behind him, Jack grabbed a couple of pillows; both were very soft and lumpy. How did people in the nineteenth century sleep? Erin then gave him instant command of her body and Jack shifted her, so she was on her hands and knees. She looked over her shoulder and smirked back at him. He leaned over, quickly kissed her and said, "This is doggy-style." Jack then wedged the pillows under her stomach. Now staring at her tight, pert ass, Jack could swear that his cock grew another inch. He slipped his fingers between Erin's thighs, amazed at how wet she felt. Erin moaned as Jack teased her, slipping a finger deep past her lips. He added another one, sliding them further pass her moist folds. Over the sounds of her whimpers, Jack slowly thrust his fingers. He then grabbed hold of his cock and positioned his tip at the entrance of her pussy. Erin groaned as she felt the bulb of his cock rub up against her swollen pussy lips. Inhaling, Jack slid his cock into her cunt in one long, slow push. Erin grunted and moaned as she felt Jack's hard cock invade her pussy again. "Oh, yes; Jack!" Erin threw her head back and moaned in appreciation. Remembering how tight she felt around his cock, Jack left his cock deep inside her for a while. The tightening of her cunt caressed his cock, making him shake with delight. There was a mirror in front of them; there were several around them, and Erin nodded her head. She wanted more. Jack pulled his cock out till just his pulsating head was being clutched by her pussy. He then gently thrust it back in, getting another moan from Erin. "More," Erin yelled. Nodding his head, Jack grabbed her soft tits. He tugged on her nipples, while picking up the pace of his strokes. Erin let out another cry, sounding like she wanted it faster. It didn't take her long to push her ass back, meeting every one of Jack's powerful thrusts. Her pussy tightened around his shaft, giving him an indescribable feeling as he fucked harder and faster. Erin was now trembling and shaking. She would let out a short yelp after each hard thrust. Then someone else entered the room, Robert. He must have been back after staging her accident. The hatred she had for him, her love for Jack, and the lush sensation of his cock, fueled another orgasm for the night. "Oh yes; Oh yes; Oh Lord yes!" Erin cried out in a high-pitch tone. Jack drove his rampant cock all the way into her, over and over again, just as fast as she wanted. She was breathless and quivering; her body was on fire, never been filled like this before. Jack held her tightly, ignoring her cries, and rammed his raging cock. She was getting close. Robert was now standing in front of them, facing Jack. He wished that piece of shit could see them. Erin moaned again, tightly gripping Mrs. Franklin's sheets, panting. She arched her back and gritted her teeth. Her eyes rolled back, slamming her hips backwards, the walls of her pussy clamping down on Jack's mauling cock. Erin howled in delight, her fingers ripping the bedsheet, much to her delight, as she spasmed in an orgasmic frenzy. She crashed forward, whimpering as she trembled in post-climax high. Jack held on her ass tightly, still plunging his cock in and out of her soaked, velvet pussy. His heart was thumping, struggling to hold off his own orgasm. Jack could feel the pressure building in his balls. Erin slowly woke up and shook her ass, her pussy clamped around his charging cock again, making him cum. Jack grunted and roared as he erupted. Erin sighed and moaned, feeling Jack's cock explode deep inside her, making her tremble in ecstasy. Another rope of his jizz filled her womb, followed by another. Once finished, Jack collapsed next to her, his brain mushed in a post cum daze. She had a broad grin, smugly satisfied that her pussy was filled by her lover's cum, while the people she hated the most watched them. Quietly moaning, feeling the hot cum seep down her thighs, Erin leaned forward. Her tits pressed against Jack's chest as she kissed him. Recovering from the intensity of their orgasm, they passionately kissed before breaking, pressing their foreheads together. "I love you," they said in unison and kissed again. Erin quickly fell asleep. Jack remembered this was just like last time. He jumped up on the bed, his bed. They had returned back to his room. He checked the alarm clock; it was half-three in the morning. No Lucy. Jack stroked Erin's chin; he could still touch her, he guessed that was positive. "Erin; Erin; Erin," Jack said, trying to wake her. No response. She was trapped in a deep sleep. "Fuck!" Lucy yelled, standing by the door. She rushed to the bed. "You're back?" "Yeah?" Jack replied, looking back at Erin. "Is she asleep?" "I think." "Okay," Lucy nodded her head, "Your parents are still downstairs and they're acting fucking weird." The final complication. Jack rushed back downstairs, with Lucy following. Their footsteps thundered against the wooden steps, but it didn't wake Jack's still slumbering parents in the living room. They were fine; the concoction that Lucy had given them was making them roll around in their sleep. Not too serious. Slamming the door open, Jack found Erin still unconscious. He yelled her name and gently, then roughly shook her. Still nothing. He tilted her head back, opening her mouth; Jack then leaned in and felt her breath. Relieved, he sighed but still had no idea what to do next. "Still down?" Lucy asked, crouching down next to him. "Yeah. It's like she's in this deep sleep." Jack shook Erin again for Lucy's benefit. Still nothing. Lucy said, "Shit," annoyed. She lifted Erin's arm and let it go. "Wow." "What do we do? Call an ambulance?" "What are you going to tell the paramedic? My formerly-ghost girlfriend from 1890s is now in coma?" "You got any ideas?" Lucy prodded Erin in the arm and just said, "Fuck." "Where's the grimoire?" Jack asked. She scurried to the other side of the room and quickly returned. Jack watched her flip through the pages, her unblinking gaze not giving him much hope. It was going to be morning soon, and here he was with a sleeping naked woman and a medium. What would he say to his parents when they wake up? Lucy slammed the book and shook her head. "Fuck!" Jack yelled; it was starting to get exhausting. "Of course, it doesn't say anything." "Dude, this was written by a guy who works at Outback Steakhouse and is a BTS fan." "I'm sorry," Jack said, turning back to Erin, "What do we do with her?" "We should move her." Jack nodded his head. "Where?" "My apartment is like twenty minutes away. She can crash there until she wakes." "Fuck it." Jack said, shrugging. Jack looked around for her clothes, and found that her uniform had gone missing. They quickly dressed her in Jack's old sweats, then carried her downstairs. His parents were still sleeping, something else Jack would have to deal with, but later. They sat Erin down in the back with Jack by her side. Fifteen minutes later, they were at Lucy's apartment. At 3:30 am, there was no traffic to slow them down. Jack scooped Erin up in his arms, her petite frame weighing nothing. There was no one on the streets, no one that could catch a guy and a girl carrying an unconscious woman into the building. God, if he got arrested now. Lucy's apartment was small, a one-bedroom, and messy. Clothes everywhere, Wiccan d cor and a toy cauldron on the coffee table. They put Erin on the couch; a soft moan escaped her lips as she bounced against the cushion. He watched her lips curl into a smile; if she was dreaming, she was enjoying the dream. There was nothing else for him to do. Jack just had to pray that Erin would wake up soon. He still hadn't asked himself if she was actually human and if their sex magic worked. She could disappear again. He had to stay positive. Jack turned back to Lucy and asked, "Can you keep an eye on her?" "Yeah," she said, covering Erin with a blanket. "I'll let you know if anything happens." He thanked Lucy and left. Tired but still having to deal with his parents, Jack walked home. He took a couple of steps but then stopped. Squinting his eyes, Jack bobbed his head like he was trying to work something out. "Did I fucking time-travel?" Christmas In the Old Mansion. Jack thought about ignoring his sister and staying in bed. But it was pointless. He knew that his mom would be ringing him sooner or later, demanding that he come down. Reaching for his phone, it was 10:15 am on December 25th, Christmas morning. Still no messages from Lucy. Yesterday, she told him that Erin had awoken for a moment and moved her head, and then fell back asleep. Erin didn't say a word or ask where she was. The way Lucy explained it, Erin was just slowly recovering her energy since becoming possibly human. Jack still didn't know if the ritual had worked or not. It had been like this for the last couple of days. Looking at his past messages, a lot of them were about asking Lucy if she could still touch Erin. That could look weird. She could, which Jack took as a positive. It was the only thing that he had. He knew he had to be patient; maybe something would happen, or not happen. Jack was just sick of not knowing. He heard his sister yell his name again. Walking downstairs, his parents were on the couch, holding coffee mugs, while his sisters were sitting by the tree. It was like they were kids again, tearing through the wrapping paper. He didn't really care what he got, with Erin taking over his mind, but did his best to look enthusiastic when opening his presents. Lucy finally texted Jack hours later. But he was in the kitchen, with his sisters, and away from his phone. Beth saw that he got a message from Lucy, her face lighting up as she turned to Jack. He had a good relationship with both his sisters, loved them both, but they could annoy the shit out of him. Especially when they had something over him. Like that time when Beth found out he got caught with a joint by a cop. A month of being her chauffeur drove him mad. "So, who's Lucy?" She asked, barely hiding her grin. Beth moved away from the stove and stood by her sister, checking out the message. "Mom said that you met some girl called Erin?" "Yeah." Jack nodded, effortlessly taking his phone off them. He checked the text; Erin had been away for a while and drank something. "Lucy's Erin's roommate," he said, "Erin lost her phone and she's sick right now. I was just asking how she is." Beth went aww, while Katie stayed silent. Jack knew he was lucky that it was Christmas and there was stuff to do. The onslaught would have to wait for now. When they first met Laura, Beth wanted to know everything about her, the films she liked, what music she was into and how serious it was. Katie was different, less manic, just asking if he felt that Laura was cool. If everything had worked and Erin could actually meet people, Jack knew he needed to prep her before meeting his family. It would have to be soon. Knowing his sisters, Beth and Katie would demand it the next couple of days. It would need to be somewhere where they served a lot of alcohol. "Is she really an actress?" Katie asked, now waving a knife. Rolling his eyes, he wished she was more focused on dicing onions than on him. Opening another beer, he said, "Yeah. But it's an amateur thing and that she is covering for someone and that she will probably won't do it again." Both sisters then looked at each other. Something was up; Jack could see it. Was something he said, was that it, it had to be. Beth then turned back to him and asked, "What does she do?" Without thinking, Jack said, "House-sitter," and finished his beer. He was blessed that his father yelled his name, asking for help. After fixing the router, they sat down for dinner. They talked about the usual stuff during the meal; thankfully, no one mentioned Erin. Jack felt calm, probably because he was focusing on something other than his ghost girlfriend. The Sick and the tired. Jack now walked a couple of steps behind his parents. His sisters flanked him as they walked down the empty streets to the movie theater. He had no idea what everyone else wanted to watch; he prayed that it was something easy, he didn't want to pay attention. He was barely listening to his sister as they walked. They talked about the not-so-secret Taylor Swift Christmas concert. He just said uh-huh at the right moments, walking along, with a hand wrapped around his phone in case it buzzed. It finally vibrated minutes later. Lucy had messaged him. Erin was awake and had been for a while. She even sent him a photo, Erin still wearing his clothes, lying on the couch, her eyelids barely open. Lucy said that he should come now if he wanted to see her. "Hey Mom, Dad, I'm not feeling great right now," Jack said, clutching his stomach. It was the first thing that he could think of. He hoped that he could remember his acting techniques when he used to play sick during junior high. His mom turned around and asked, "What's wrong?" "I feel like; nauseous and everything really aches." Jack told his parents that he should probably skip the movie and rest back home. His mom threw a couple of questions at him, asking what was wrong, how it happened and if he needed anything. He mentioned Erin's name, saying that she was also sick. Katie perked up in the corner of his eye when he mentioned Erin. This was all he needed, a sister playing detective. He convinced them to still see the movie, saying that he would go straight to bed. That there was no point in them breaking from tradition. Jack walked away from them slowly. After a couple of blocks, he rushed back to the house and jumped in his car. Annoyingly, he would have to drive past the movie theater to get to Lucy's apartment. "Hey," Lucy said, opening the door, "You're fast." "Yeah." Jack nodded. He was pretty sure that he ran a couple of red lights getting here. He just needed to see her quickly, see if she was okay and then leave. "How is she?" "Okay. It's like she got the flu or something. I've been giving her some fluids and Tylenol." "Has she eaten anything?" "Vegetable soup," Lucy said, shrugging her shoulders, "I have no idea what she can eat. You know when you go abroad and you can't drink the water because of local bacteria or shit? I don't know if she can handle meat or dairy." Jack opened the door to the living room but turned to Lucy, "Thank you for everything. Sorry that you had to spend your whole day looking after her." "It's nothing. I want to help," Lucy replied, "Now get in there." Walking into the room, Jack found Erin still on the sofa. A couple of blankets covered every inch of her body apart from her head. There was no color on her face, reminding Jack how she used to look like. Bags under her eyes and her hair was a mess. She clasped a mug of something, inhaling the aroma. Erin then looked up and smiled, "Jack." She was weary, and her voice creaked. She tried to raise her arms, possibly hug him but gave up. He rushed to her side and asked, "How are you?" "I'm okay." Jack said, "You sure?" With a quiet tone, letting know her it was okay if she wasn't. Erin paused, then shrugged her shoulders. "No. I feel so tired and sick. And I hate everything." "Wow. Welcome to being an adult in the 21st century. We all feel like that." "Great." Erin threw her head back, then said, "So this is what being human feels like after so many years? It's painful. There is something else. I been having these dreams. That I am still with the Franklins. They follow me through your house. But your house how it looks now." "Oh. I'm sorry." Erin shook her head and said, "Please don't. It's not your fault. I think of them and I feel myself passing through the couch and then I remember I am here." Their hands touched, and Erin quickly began to smile. She then asked, "So, tell me about your Christmas. What presents did you get?" "Oh. My parents got me a new laptop bag and a cold brew bottle. My sisters went fifty-fifty and got me a pair of Jordans." Erin blinked and said, "I don't know what that means." She then yawned, and her eyes slowly shut. "Just tell me more about how your Christmas went." Jack gave her a brief breakdown on his Christmas, trying not to bore her. But there was really little to say; he had sleepwalked through the day. Jack saw a quick smile on her face when he told her that his sisters were pestering him for details about her. But slowly, she drifted off and was back asleep. "Hey Jack," Lucy said, calling him into the kitchen. "So, I'm thinking that Erin should see someone. Like a therapist?" For a second, Jack was surprised. "Really?" "She's been stuck in the same house for a hundred years, watching herself get killed over and over. That's got to fuck you up." "No. I know that's completely true and she should have someone to talk to. Just, didn't think that mediums were pro-therapy." "If you speak to ghosts, you would be pro-therapy as well. They are always fucked up. Most need Valium." Jack smiled. He looked back at Erin and said, "Suggest it to her. It'll probably be best coming from you. The problem is who can see her? Like she needs health insurance." "I'm been thinking about that. No way Erin can function in the real world. She hasn't got a social, birth certificate or a passport. She can't just depend on you for money." "I know." "And?" "I'm working on it." Jack had an idea or half one; he still needed to ask around. "You better work on it quicker. Erin's getting antsy. She wants to explore the world, go on a plane, see Paris." Jack nodded and looked back at Erin. "Keep her calm. She still needs to walk after she can run, or the other way round." "Sure." "I gotta go." Jack said. He left the kitchen and checked on Erin again; she was soundly sleeping. "I'll be here in the morning. Now excuse me, I have to pretend to be sick." "Hey, I have something that can help. It's like diluted ayahuasca." Jack stopped and turned around. He stared back at Lucy's grinning face just before gently closing the front door. Still, he had no idea if she was just joking. Erin Tours The Town. A couple days later, Jack was called to Lucy's place. He could hear voices behind the door and the sounds of footsteps as he waited outside Lucy's apartment. He had texted Lucy earlier; she said that Erin was more awake than before and he should come around. That was good to hear. Jack didn't like to be in constant worry. Also, it was way too early in the relationship for him to have to deal with stuff like this. He just wanted to spend time with his girlfriend and not think if she would fade away or be trapped in a house. Erin opened the door, smiling instantly at him. She looked better. Erin had discarded Jack's sweats for some yoga pants and hoodie, probably from Lucy's wardrobe. Color had returned to her face, and the bags under her eyes had disappeared. She had brushed her hair, tying it up in a loose ponytail. She had her arms around his neck, and Erin quickly pulled him down for a long kiss. She felt so good to touch. Jack didn't realize how much he missed having her in his arms. He wanted to take her somewhere private. When they stopped kissing, Erin smirked back at him, and Jack knew she had the same dirty thoughts. But then Erin yawned, and he knew that they had to take their time. "How are you?" He asked, trying not to wince. He guessed that Erin was getting sick of that question. She smiled, leading him to the sofa and sat down. Erin pulled her feet up and said, "Better. I can get up and walk and bathe. I had my first shower ;  a hot shower." Erin grinned and giggled to herself. Seeing that response, Jack realized he really didn't know that much about plumbing in the 1800s. "It felt so good. I feel like I'm getting stronger and have more vigor." "I'm guessing those are Lucy's clothes?" "Yeah," Erin said, blushing, "she said that I should wear something else. Her clothing looks strange but so interesting. Just disappointing that they don't really fit." Looking at her, she is right. Jack could tell that the clothes she had on were supposed to be for Lucy's curves, not Erin's petite frame. He needed to take her shopping. "I will return your clothes after I launder them." "No, no, no. You don't have to." "I want to. It was my job. And I need to know how to use these machines." The bedroom door opened, and Lucy walked in. She was dressed similar to Erin, yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She sat on the chair and said, "Morning." Jack greeted her and then asked them what their plans were for today. "I could do a coffee run? Erin could try her first latte." Lucy said. "How about we go outside," Erin replied, "I wish to leave the apartment for a while. And I'd like to see some of the city." Jack nodded and said, "Give her a tour of Portland and then brunch?" Their first stop was at the harbor. There used to be cheap apartment buildings around the docks, but the way Erin described it, they were more like slums. Her old apartment had disappeared. Jack looked it up for her, finding out that two years after she died, there was a huge fire which gutted the entire neighborhood. "Maybe I should thank the Franklins." Erin said with a wry smile. They walked a couple of blocks up and stopped at St. Dominic's Parish. It was the church that Erin used to attend regularly. She would be there every Sunday for Mass and would stop off after her shift ended for prayer. Erin left Jack and Lucy outside, knowing that it wasn't their scene and she needed to be alone for this. The church hadn't changed much; a new coat of paint was all she could see. There were a few people seated in the pews that ignored Erin as she walked to the statue of the Virgin Mary. They didn't care that she was dressed in casual clothes. A big difference from when she was alive, a woman in pants would be refused entry, and there would be talk of excommunication. Erin lit a candle and said a prayer. It was a quick one, honoring those she had lost since being trapped in that house. She could come back on Sunday and see how Mass had changed, or she wouldn't. Erin hadn't decided yet. She found Jack and Lucy both on their phones. They stopped and looked up at her, both giving Erin concerned looks. While she appreciated the gesture, she wanted something else and asked to eat. Lucy picked a place nearby but warned Erin about her choices. She, as well as Jack, was worried about what food that Erin could eat. They both suggested eating something simple, slowly get used to pasteurized milk, additives and pesticides. All Erin could do was nod her head and not scream in frustration, blocking out all the exciting food around her. "Wave-us ranch-us?" She repeated Jack's order. Erin listened to them and ordered a bowl of oatmeal. It was what she used to eat back in 1898. "Huevos rancheros," Jack said again. "It's eggs on tortillas with beans and salsa." "That sounds so intriguing. I really want to try." "Erin," Lucy said, "Just take your time. We just don't want you to take a bite and puke everywhere because your stomach isn't used to modern bacteria or something. It's like learning to drink. You start small, wine coolers and beer and build your tolerance and soon you'll be finishing a bottle of vodka all by yourself." Jack rolled his eyes and said, "Not in that way but yeah. It's a vaccine. Take a small bite of fruit or a sip of milk and get used of it." He took a sip of coffee and then shook his head. "Shit!" Jack said, but quiet enough that no one else heard. "I still haven't sorted out getting a physical or something. I mean Erin hasn't been vaccinated." "Yeah. There was this disease that you call polio and it affected people in Boston. The stories were terrifying. I really want to be protected." "Yeah, but how?" Lucy asked. "There's a way," Jack said, "A way?" Lucy repeated. "There's this guy in my building, he buys his sneakers and mushrooms on the dark web." Jack then turned to Erin and said, "The dark web is where you can buy illegal things. He said that you can buy passports, birth certificate, and socials. You can even get a high school diploma." "Really?" Lucy leaned in, "Like any school?" "Maybe," Jack replied. "I'd like to get an education by myself," Erin said, glancing at the two of them. "I know that I will have to take the fake social and birth certificate to survive. But I want to be in charge of my own future." "That's fair." Jack nodded. The food then arrived, and Erin stared at the bowl of oatmeal. It was like the gruel she used to have while growing up in Ireland. It tasted better than the watery sludge of oat she used to survive on. But looking at Jack's plate, it was not what Erin wanted right now. "So, what next?" Jack asked, putting his wallet away. "We could see more of the city? Also, Erin needs some clothes." Lucy replied. Erin finished her coffee and stared at the cup; it wasn't enough. "I would love to," she said, "but I feel so tired." Lucy nodded and said, "I think this is the longest you've been awake for." "Rest up and we'll talk later." Jack then leaned in and kissed her goodbye. *** Erin stared out of the window, watching in amazement as the plane climbed higher and higher into the sky. She was with Lucy, driving to a store, which meant going past the airport. She had remembered reading about airships and possible flight. But that was in 1898, now they have gone to the Moon and want to travel to other planets. Looking up at the plane, she was going to be there soon. Either with Jack or by herself, but definitely soon. In the last couple of days, Erin was eating more, developing actual stamina and didn't need to take frequent naps. With the increase in energy, she craved to be out of the apartment, exploring more of the city and finding out what else had changed. She had gotten lucky as Lucy's apartment was not that far from where Erin lived, and she could see how the neighborhood transformed. Lucy parked the car in the lot, and they both got out. Erin stared at the store ;  Target. Since being flesh and blood again, she had been borrowing Lucy's clothes, and she didn't like it. Erin felt terrible about being a burden on her, and Lucy's clothes didn't really fit her. "What do we need to get?" Lucy locked the car and said, "Just the basics." Erin nodded, looking away. Her eyes caught a girl, mid-twenties like her. She wore an overlong emerald sweater and boots that went past her knees. Also, sunglasses. Erin wanted to ask Lucy if this was common but was worried about sounding stupid. The nineteenth-century values of modesty and pureness, and calling chicken bosoms instead of chicken breasts, was still stuck in her. Seeing women her own age dressing so casually, showing off more flesh and wearing form-fitting clothes, Erin wanted to return to Lucy's couch. There were more changes that Erin had to get used to inside the store. She had thought of Target as a department store but larger. The sheer size of it shocked her. And that all the products, clothes, groceries and electronics were out in the open. There were no large, ornate wooden counters, wall-high glass cabinets, or mustached clerks in smocks. But there are a lot more options, and it's brighter. "You're like what? Extra small?" Lucy asked. "I guess." Erin said, taking her word for it. "What should I buy?" "I don't know, probably jeans, leggings, a couple of t-shirts and some tops. Also socks, bras and panties." Lucy paused, seeing Erin blush and try not to laugh. "Oh yeah, sneakers. How do those Nikes feel?" "Uncomfortable. I'm sorry." "No worries, I think you're size bigger." Erin nodded and asked, "How much did he give you to spend?" She was in the bathroom when Jack popped over at the apartment in the morning, overhearing them talk about shopping. Erin had to rely on Jack and also Lucy to survive, she accepted that, but it felt uncomfortable. "He gave me around two hundred." "Two-two hundred dollars?" "Yeah?" "That's impossible. That's more than what I earned in a year. He's given me too much." "Really?" Lucy pulled out her phone and searched for a dollar inflation calculator. Erin nodded. She hugged herself and looked away. Her eyes caught a sign, jeans for twenty dollars. That didn't sound right. "Oh," Lucy said, "He gave you the equivalent of six dollars and some change." "Still, that was two days of pay for me." They started shopping, and Lucy instantly took her to the underwear section. It took a while for Erin to get used to buying bras and panties. A store owner would never dream of displaying woman's bloomers. She felt herself going red, which she hated. Shaking her head, Erin took a deep inhale and asked Lucy how many bras she should get without blushing. Lucy then picked up a couple of hoodies, and Erin nodded, letting her drop them in the cart. Erin was amazed at how soft and comfortable the material felt as she ran her fingers over the fabric. Not stiff or feeling like burlap. Also, how simple it is. No corsets or bustles. No spending an hour dressing yourself or helping the lady of the house. "Is this what women wear now?" Erin asked. She noticed how everyone dressed so casual, like they were going to exercise. "It's very informal," she said, not knowing if it's a good thing or not. "That's the trend now." Lucy picked up a white t-shirt and raised it to her chest. "And you are going to see models, actresses, influencers wear t-shirts like these that cost thousand dollars." "A thousand dollars?" "Yeah," Lucy said, placing a pair of leggings in the cart, "And you're going to need more clothes later. These are cool for chilling in the apartment. But what you going to do later?" "What do you mean?" "Like your plans. You going to get a job? You said you want to go to college, what you going to major in? And are you going to stay in Portland?" Erin shook her head. She hadn't given that much thought. "Hey," Lucy said, "You can still stay with me. But I don't know what that sofa is going to do to your back. If Jack comes through with a social and ID, you can get a job." Erin nodded. But then she thought about what type of jobs could she really do. "I'm guessing you don't want to be a maid again." "I was not a maid." "No?" "No. A maid would live in the house with the family. I had my own room. I was a charwoman." Erin said. She picked up a sweater, liking the pattern and dropped it in the cart. "I cleaned houses because I had to. I'm not going to go back to that. I just need to think about what to do next. I want a real job." "I mean there is an obvious answer." "What?" "You go to college. You can major in nineteenth century U S history. It will be a breeze for you." "Wouldn't that be cheating?" "Fuck no." Lucy stopped the cart and smiled. "You went through all this trauma and now you're in a time where you can go to college and be who you want to be. Used any advantage you can." Erin nodded, and they went back to shopping. She liked the sound of going to college, something that was impossible the first time around. Studying history didn't really appeal to her, but Erin could see Lucy's point. It took them another hour to get to the checkout line. Looking at the cart, Erin hoped that they had gotten everything. Two pairs of jeans, in black & blue, leggings, four t-shirts, hoodies, sweaters, socks, a pair of white sneakers and underwear; Erin really hoped that was enough for her to live on. She caught herself staring at other women and then glancing back to the cart. Something didn't feel right. Last night, she and Jack had a long conversation over the phone. Now she could leave the apartment more often and didn't need to nap all the time; Jack said he would love to take her out. They then agreed on dinner tomorrow night. "Sorry to ask again. But you said that these clothes are okay to wear all the time? Like in the evening?" "Maybe." Lucy shrugged. Her eyes then narrowed, knowing that was something more. "Like in the evening? Like for a date?" Erin paused, remembering how the definition had changed. She nodded her head and said, "Yes." "Tonight?" Erin shook her head and replied with a small smile. Lucy looked at the pile of clothes and paused for a moment; she was working something in her head, Erin could tell. "Not for date night. Let's go to the mall." She quickly paid and grabbed Erin out of the store. They didn't drive long, maybe five minutes at most. Lucy told her about date nights and the need to dress up. It shocked her. She didn't see Lucy as a type of woman who would wear an evening gown for a dance. Erin told her what Jack had been thinking of, a simple dinner at a restaurant, maybe a quick stopover at a bar. Lucy drove to a mall, which Erin roughly knew as a building with lots of stores. It was quieter than she expected and hoped. She wanted more interaction with regular people, learning to talk to them and seeing if she could successfully fool them. Lucy dragged Erin into an H and M store and told her that it's a step above Target. Flipping through a rack, Lucy then said, "What you need is a really good dress." "Okay?" "But also, it's like 30 degrees outside. So probably something like a sweater dress." Lucy said, staring at the clothes. She pulled out a navy dress and pressed it against Erin's body. "Try this on." "I don't think this is necessary. We don't know what we are going to do." "This is your first date, like ever. Don't you want to dress hot?" Erin chuckled this time, still focused on the definition of date. She saw Lucy give her a curious look and replied, "Dating meant something different in my time. Having a date meant you would have paid a whore for the night." "Now you don't have to be a whore to dress sexy and fuck your boyfriend." Erin smirked and took the dress, slowly walking to the dressing room. Inside the stall, she quickly stripped Lucy's clothes and folded them neatly on the table. It was something that she had found herself doing a lot, muscle memory from over a hundred years ago. She slipped into the dress, remarking how comfortable the fabric felt against her skin. There were positives to the changes in fashion, she slowly understood. Erin remembered how her old clothes were stiff and heavy, realizing how much she hated wearing them. Zipping up the back, Erin then turned and faced the full-length mirror. Seeing her reflection there, she just moaned, a navy-blue dress fitted to her slender body, with long sleeves and a cowl neck. It was scandalous how the dress ended above her knees. But seeing herself, Erin praised Lucy's choice. She really looked sexy. Erin ran her hands up her sides, posing against the mirror. Something then felt off. Erin felt her heart thud in her chest. Sweat dampened her forehead. She had to get away. This was too much for her. She wanted the attic again. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the side. Instinctively, Erin raised a hand up to steady herself. But she phased through the stall, her forearm disappearing. "Oh Shit" A female voice screamed. The other stall door crashed open, and Erin could hear footsteps pounding away from her. She pulled her arm back and grabbed her chest. Breathing was hard. But Erin calmed herself down. It happened again. This was getting annoying and getting more frequent. Changing back to her regular clothes, Erin walked back to the shop floor. There was no one near her, no scared woman or guards. She found Lucy, holding a black dress. It was more revealing than the blue one she picked, but it made Erin smile. It looked cute. "You should get this also." "Yeah," Erin said. Her eyes wandered, trying to find a frightened woman. "It happened again." "Yeah. I figured. Saw some lady run out, screaming about a ghost arm." Lucy shrugged her shoulders, "I'm going to ask around. Just don't think about it." She turned her head and pointed at the intimate section. "You need to pick out some date night lingerie. Something revealing." "You are really invested." "After getting kinda fucked by Jack but hearing your voice, I'm definitely invested. It was a hot show." Lucy grinned. "Let's get you some lace bra and panties and some boots then we can go." "Do we have enough? I think we spent nearly all the money Jack gave us." Lucy paused and then said, "I still have the cash that Jack gave me. You know? From the first time. When you tried to possess me and kiss him?" A teenager walked past them and gave them a long stare. Both Erin and Lucy replied back with indifferent looks. Turning back to Lucy, Erin said, "I can't ask you spend your earnings on me. It's not;" "It doesn't matter. It's cool. I'll buy it for you. Call it a thank-you present for getting rid of that stain in the kitchen." "Thank you." Erin smiled. "I want to say that I really appreciate your support and friendship." She wrapped her arms aroun

A Holiday Haunting: Part 2 Jack and Erin deal with new problems. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Jack's mouth painfully stretched open. He then released a long gasp, and his eyelids pulled back; he was now forcibly awake. Turning to his side, he found himself partially alone. Lucy was still there, deep in sleep, but no Erin. He called her name, but there was nothing. Putting on sweatpants and a t-shirt, Jack searched the house for her. He yelled her name and again there was no reply. It had never worked like that before, but Jack was desperate. He questioned himself, Lucy, the s ance and everything else. Worried that he had caused her banishment, Jack needed to interrogate the medium. But then the doorbell rang, and there was a knock at the door. Opening it, Jack saw a delivery man with a clipboard and a massive box. Annoyed that the new dryer he bought on Black Friday, had finally arrived a week late, he signed the paperwork but felt cold. Jack turned around but saw nothing. Terrified that he was losing it, Jack turned back to the delivery man. The delivery man wheeled the dryer in and took the clipboard off Jack, thanking him. The man then looked past Jack and said, "Morning, Miss." Behind him, Erin stood. Her mouth ajar and stood still, but wasn't her typical ghostly self. She looked like she did last night, her skin a pale pink while her hair was an auburn shade. Erin had the same clothes that Jack had seen for the previous fifteen years. But something was off. Erin had lost the white apron that covered most of the front, and the first two buttons of her collar were undone, possibly scandalous in the 19th century. "He saw me. He saw me." Erin said, walking towards the open door. She ignored Jack and edged closer to the outside, the fresh air, sounds of birds and something new to see calling her. Erin turned back to Jack and said, "Come with me." She then took one step outside and immediately disappeared. "Fuck!" Lucy screamed from upstairs.   A post-S ance exam. They sat around the coffee table, all struggling to think of anything to say. Jack and Lucy had run some basic tests on Erin. She could be seen but not be touched, but cameras could capture her. She couldn't feel anything, but could sit in a chair without phasing through it. Should she take a step outside the house's confines, Erin would instantly vanish and reappear in the attic. But Erin could change her appearance, though only subtly. Like she could roll up her sleeves, undo a button or two and play around her hair. That was a relief to Erin; she had only worn hair in a bob because Mrs. Franklin demanded it. "So, what now," Jack said, taking a sip of coffee. "I; I don't know," Lucy shook her head, "This is way out of my area of expertise. Honestly, I didn't even know that this could happen." "Would it be so wrong if I stayed like this?" Erin said, "I can speak and I can be heard." "But you can't touch anything." Lucy said. "And my parents are going to be back soon. Then it's Christmas and the house is going to be filled with people. I can see my mom and my aunts instantly freak out if they saw you float. And, I have to go back to Boston. I can't leave you like this." "I know." Erin then looked at Lucy and asked, "Can we not do the s ance again?" "Hell no." Lucy shook her head, emphatically underlining her point. "What we did and what happened, it's not the same. Jack was supposed to talk to you and help you move on. Nothing about sex. We did something, maybe something wrong, maybe something right. But it pulled you into this plane. If we do it again, who knows what happens to you?" "Then what next?" Jack asked. Lucy pushed her chair back and stood up. She madly scrolled through the contacts on her phone. "I need to speak to someone. Be back in a sec." Erin followed Lucy out of the room with her stare. She paused for a moment, then leaned in towards Jack. "We should talk." "Yeah." Jack said, trying to hide his nervousness. "I never thought that I would be here. I'd be a banshee, roaming this house until the Last Judgement. I accepted that. Now I can be seen by anyone. I can be spoken to and listened. I am lost and scared. What happens to us?" Jack rested his hand on over hers, sinking through her tangible form and said, "I'll work something out. Don't worry. My dad did say he is thinking about selling the house. Maybe I take it." Erin dropped her head down and said, "I cannot let you do that. Live your life with a spirit. It will be dull. And there is so much I want to see." Leaning back, Jack smiled back at her. This was the first time he could find out who Erin really is, as a person. "Like?" "I want to be in the sky, flying across the ocean. To travel to places that I have only seen briefly in those windows. The Grand Canyon, swim in an ocean and visit Kinsale." "Kinsale?" "It is where I was born. I left when I was twelve. I always wished that I would see the village again." "Anything else?" Erin looked away, like she was thinking; then turned back to Jack and said, "I want to eat food that hadn't been boiled. Wear something luxurious. I want to see a movie. And to kiss you again." She smiled. Lucy walked back into the room. She glanced at Erin, then at Jack, realizing something was up, but began talking. "Okay, I spoke to a friend. She knows a lot of left-hand path rituals, some chaos magic. You know, maybe sigils and secret names?" she said, nodding as if they knew what she meant. "She knows a couple of necromancers." "Necro-mancers?" Erin asked. "They talk to the dead. My friend's going to reach out and get us a name. Hopefully, one who just wants to talk to the dead and nothing more. A necromancer will know what to do." "So, we just wait?" Jack asked. Lucy nodded.    Home Alone. Days later, Erin stared at the TV. She was alone as Jack had to deal with the headache of Christmas preparations. He didn't want to leave her by herself, but Erin insisted that it was okay. This was something that Erin knew she had to get used to. She thought back to how difficult her life was before the s ance. Erin could easily take her current form as a constantly visible ghost, than that hell. One plus was now she could spend time with Jack. Last night, they spent hours talking. Jack told her everything that had happened to him since they last spoke. Erin was confused by his job, working as an engineer but with computers and clouds. Jack also showered her with questions about her own life. Her eyes widened after each question, and she grinned madly back at him. She told him about her life in Ireland, traveling across the Atlantic and working in Boston. Jack showed her current photos of how the city changed. She was amazed and saddened, seeing some of her favorite places of the city disappear. There was one question that Erin wouldn't answer. Jack had asked her where she would go, when she wasn't haunting the house. When he used to see her, it was only for an hour at most, then Erin would just fade away, and Jack would have to wait days or weeks to see her again. Erin couldn't say anything; she just looked away. She finally said it was difficult and Jack quickly changed the subject. The channel that Jack left the TV on was now playing another documentary about the World War. He told her it was a good idea for her to get used to the twenty-first century, but Erin couldn't stomach any more documentaries about the war. She understood Jack's reasoning; the other night, she cried in happiness that Ireland had become independent. A knock on the door turned Erin's head. There was no way it could be Jack. She could hear keys rattling and the door slowly open. Someone then called her name, a female voice. Erin phased through the walls to see who it was. She found Lucy standing outside, darting her head in and out. "Fuck!" Lucy stumbled back as she saw Erin appear, covering her mouth. She took a couple of deep breaths and then said, "Hi; Erin," Lucy nervously smiled, "Where's Jack?" "He has gone to a store called Walm Art. He will return in two hours' time, I hope." "Oh." Lucy paused. "Err, can I come in?" "Sorry," Erin stepped aside and allowed Lucy to enter. "Did Jack give you a key?" "Yeah," Lucy said, removing her jacket. "He swung by and said that I should have it, just in case." Muscle memory dictated her to ask for Lucy's coat and offer her a drink. Erin tried to hide her embarrassment while Lucy just smiled. Erin then followed her into the living room, trying to think about why she was here. She didn't like the idea that Lucy could enter the house whenever she wants. Erin knew the psychic was attracted to Jack; experiencing Lucy's feelings during the second time she possessed her. Erin couldn't help herself but checkout the medium's curvy frame as Lucy walked into the living room, hiding her disappointed face. "I have some news, but I will wait until Jack gets back. It'll be easier to explain. But it's good." Lucy grinned. She sat down on the sofa and asked, "What are you watching?" "A documentary about World War 2?" Erin said, not entirely convinced. "They call it World War 2 but do not say anything about a previous war." "Yeah, I can't remember what World War 1 was about. Might watch Wonder Woman again. Do you mind if I change the channel?" "Please," Erin replied, "It's depressing." She then joined her on the sofa. "So, how are you dealing with the modern world?" Lucy asked while flicking through the channels, stopping on at E. "It's pleasant. Yesterday, Jack showed me around the house and I was amazed. A dishwasher, a washing machine and an automated carpet cleaner. Those were most of my duties and would take half of my day. He showed me um moving photograph on his phone of places he has been to. I want to see them with my own eyes." "I'm guessing back in the 1880s travel was impossible." "Only by train or steam. Now you can fly anywhere," Erin smiled. "But what I'm most astonished by is being a woman. I died before I could vote and now a woman can run for President. I could only be a maid or work in a factory. Now there's so many possibilities." "That's really cool," Lucy said, smiling. Erin felt herself being distracted by the TV. She turned her head and saw a dozen of scantily-clad women grinding against men, who were topless and had bodies like circus strongmen. Her mouth dropped, watching as a woman sing to the camera. Lucy saw Erin's stunned expression and quickly changed the channel. "Sorry." "It's fine," Erin replied, "There is so much that is different. I need to adjust. It's just that if I were to go to a beach, I was expected to wear bloomers that covered my limbs. It is difficult to get used to being in an age were flesh is allowed." "I understand. It's okay to take your time." Lucy said. She then leaned closer and asked, "Sorry if this sounds idiotic. But you okay with me in general? Being a medium, the drinking and the sex before marriage?" Erin smiled and said, "I have lived in this household for over a century. My eyes have been open to many strange things. At first, I prayed for my soul and I thought my impurity was the cause of this life I was to live. As the years passed, I found myself losing that idea of sin. Families lived here, they indulged in vices that I found wicked. But they were still loving and moral people." "Wow," Lucy smirked and said, "One day, you must tell me what you saw over the years." Going back to Lucy's words and all the things she experienced got Erin thinking. In the hundred-odd years she had been trapped in this house, she had caught numerous couples screw late at night. Some were unmarried, others were of different races, which shocked her, but Erin found them loving, which just compounded to her jealousy. Erin had also seen couples have different types of sex, none like the ways she was told or experienced. Her fianc had been drunk during their entire courtships; she doubted he would have been sober enough to cock-stand. Robert just pushed her down on a billiards table and had his way with her. Erin thought she had enjoyed that, but it was nothing compared to what Jack made her feel the other night. It felt unusual, but she loved every moment of him touching her down below. "Um," Erin looked away before opening her mouth, "Lucy, can I ask you something? It is delicate." Lucy shrugged, "Sure." "Jack. He laid me down and used his tongue; on my quim." Erin said blushing. "Is this normal?" "Yeah," Lucy blurted out. "Sorry. Most guys do that now. If you're lucky." She smirked at Erin, who remained nonplussed. "Has sex really changed that much?" "One sec," Lucy stood up and skipped to the kitchen. She returned ten minutes later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. "If we're having girl time, we need wine." Lucy popped open the bottle and poured, then stopped. "Shit, I forgot. I'm sorry. Are you okay if I drink?" "Please," Erin replied, smiling. "My church said it was a sin. They encouraged to be teetotal. The man who I was supposed to marry died due to it. When I tasted wine and became hysteric. I thought that was the reason I was stuck in this house. Now I'm not sure. But I would love another taste." "Hopefully soon." Lucy then took a long sip and said, "Okay ;  sex. Sex is nothing like you have experienced in the 1800s. There are handjobs, blowjobs, anal, bondage, choking and group sex. What Jack did to you ;  I admit I'm jealous. Because most guys won't do that, but still expect you to blow them." "Blow?" "You put a penis in your mouth and suck on it." "Oh Christ," Erin muttered. Lucy then lifted up her phone, and loaded up a website. She then stopped herself, glanced at Erin and typed something else like she had changed her mind. She clicked on a video thumbnail and scooted closer to the spirit. "This is sex now." Erin moaned, watching a young blonde who looked a passing resemblance to Lucy, on a bed. She was nude and smiling at a tattooed man. She quickly stripped the man of his clothes, and then the couple kissed, rolling on the bed. Erin noticed that the woman was completely bare in the between. The man then kissed the woman in the cunt, just like Jack had done to her. "Wow," Erin moaned, "She looks like she is really enjoying herself." Erin felt the need to shift her weight on the sofa while she continued to watch. "Well, she's an actress. I should tell you that this is fake. But you need to know that it's okay to like sex and how you can enjoy it." Lucy then paused as they both watched the blonde actress get on her hands and knees. "That's the doggy-style position, very popular and feels great." Erin pursed her lip like she was trying not to laugh. Everything she had been taught, from her mother, Sunday School and the church, told her that premarital sex was an affront to the Lord. And sex in marriage was only for procreation. Now she could enjoy it. "I have to admit something, Lucy," Erin said, trying to look away from the video, "When me and Jack um fucked. I drew on your thoughts to make it more enjoyable." "I've been meaning to ask you about that." Lucy paused the video and took another sip of the wine. "Jack told me about the first time you possessed me and tried to kiss him." "I'm so sorry." "That's okay. I really just want to know how you were able to possess me? I've talked to spirits before, some probably fake, some hundred-percent real. But I've never been possessed." "I can't explain," Erin said. "It just happened and then I felt pain, you fighting back and mine own struggle. But I can tell you about the other time. It was easy. I just drew on your attraction to Jack." "It's like a tulpa," Lucy said, slowly smiling. "It has to be a tulpa!" "Tulpa?" "A tulpa is a being or an object created through intense thought. You have created something like this, linking you with Jack. When me and Jack were on the sofa, were you just haunting the house or were you drawn to this spot." "I just appeared here and saw you two." "Yeah," Lucy grinned, "This is great. I've got an idea on how we can help you." Erin nodded and looked away. She should apologize. Erin saw the blonde medium less of an adventuress, a strumpet who would seduce Jack, and more of a real person. And someone eager to help her. Erin knew she still had to adjust her 19th century way of thinking to the modern world. "Hey," Lucy said, getting Erin's attention. "Don't worry about me and Jack. I can tell he only wants you, especially now he can actually be with you. You know, have conversations. And I like you and I don't want to mess with a 19th century Irish ghost." Erin chuckled and covered her mouth. She wanted to believe that Lucy was genuine; she disliked being this jealous woman. When she was alive, with a body and everything, she had few friends. It was mainly due to her betrothed and the need to move cities for work. "What happened to you? When I possessed you?" "Hmm," Lucy paused and then said, "The first time I felt nothing, I was like asleep. When you did it again, it was like watching TV. I was standing in a dark room. Watching two screens and I could hear my voice, but it didn't sound like me. You leaned in and kissed Jack and it felt so weird. I'll be interested to try it again. Hell, if you ever want to have some fun with Jack, you can use my body." She grinned. Again, Erin blushed and went red, thinking about floating away from this conversation.   Left Hand Magic. Jack opened the door and made a beeline to the kitchen. He ignored the dulled sounds of music being played and talking in the other room, assuming that it was just the TV. After stocking the fridge, he had to check on Erin. It was a weird relationship. She was like his girlfriend but also his patient. Jack just tried to focus on Lucy coming through for them. Walking into the living room, he found Erin and Lucy both on the sofa. The blonde medium was playing music on her phone while Erin nodded her head over the beat, her eyes closed. This was good. Jack knew that Erin would need someone else to talk to. Like with any other relationship, his neurotic side flared, and Jack was worried that he was suffocating Erin. It helped that Lucy knew what Erin was going through, wouldn't freak out and is around the same age. "Oh, you're back," Erin said, smiling. She stood up and walked through the coffee table to be at his side. "Did you get everything?" "Yep," He nodded, "So, what have you guys been up to?" "I'm just showing her what music is like now, and Instagram. And some other things." Lucy said, smirking at Erin. Jack caught the smile and glanced at Erin, who had gone red. Ignoring their feminine secrets, he sat down and asked, "So, do you have any news?" "Yep," Lucy replied and went for her bag. "You ever heard of a grimoire?" They both shook their heads, which Lucy had suspected they would do. She then gave them a brief explanation of a grimoire. It meant a book of spells, but more accurately, it was a textbook of magic. She had underlined certain pages, focused more on left-hand path magic, which went over both Jack and Erin's heads. The grimoire that Lucy had been given, had instructions on how to resurrect a body. "From what I read, resurrecting the dead is near impossible. Especially when the dead has been dead for over a hundred years. You need to evocate the person's spirit from wherever they are, say Hell or Heaven. That takes a lot of energy, and like it takes forever with like a zero-point-one chance percent of getting it right. But since Erin's spirit is still on Earth, we have a shot." "Fuck." Jack said. He then glanced at Erin and quickly apologized. "No, you are right," Erin nodded, dumbfounded as he was, "So, I can be human?" "Possibly," Lucy said, walking closer to the couple, the dirt-brown book of spells in her hands. "We need some things. Dirt from your grave, for one. Some other stuff, like salt, candles, herbs. Also, there might be sex magic involved." "Sex magic?" Erin said, "How? What?" "This is left-hand path magic!" Lucy yelled, "There's always stuff involving sex." "So, when do we do this?" Jack asked, pouring himself a glass of wine; he needed it. Glancing at Erin, she looked like she wanted one as well. "We need to pick the right date. A date real important." Lucy then got in front of Erin and asked, "What do you remember about the day you died?" "I um; it's hard," Erin said, "I can't. No." "The diary doesn't say much. All I know that she died on December 21st." "December 21st?" Lucy repeated, "The Winter Solstice usually falls on 20th or 21st. If Erin was murdered on the Winter Solstice, it can explain a lot. Tulpas. Midwinter. This is getting weird." Lucy told him that she will explain later. But there was a plan, and all they had to do is get some materials, research more into Erin's life and wait a week. Jack remembered that the ritual would probably happen with his parents around, maybe his sisters. He needed another drink. Nudity Norms. Erin felt comfortable, sitting in the living room with Jack, watching a Christmas movie. It was a pleasant feeling. Jack was supposed to be working, but he told her that he was now in the holiday zone, so he was expected to do the bare minimum until the new year. When she asked what his boss would say, Jack replied that he's probably doing the same right now. If this was what the modern world truly is, then Erin knew she would love it. She glanced at Jack, and he smirked back at her. Last night was still replaying her head. They were in bed, and had finished watching another Christmas movie. Some of the jokes Erin didn't get, also the ending was confusing. Frozen orange juice and future markets. Overall, she enjoyed the movie but was curious about the amount of nudity in some shows, and asked if that was normal. "Depends on the time and what you are watching," Jack said, "When you see actors and actresses naked, sometimes its just as is, like they're waking up or taking a shower. Over times, it's sexual and they might even pretend to have sex." "You mean fucking?" Erin grinned. "What?" Erin explained that she picked up some modern words. Jack immediately guessed it had to be Lucy. There was literally no one else. "I have only had sex twice in my life. Well, once when I was alive," Erin smiled, "What happened with us was unexpected and I had to tell someone. And she taught me some new words." Erin then moved closer and shocked him, "Lucy even showed me videos. Porn." Jack stayed still, not believing what he had heard. He had tried to work out how and why Lucy showed Erin porn. For the last couple of days, he had tried to be protective of her nineteenth-century mind, slowly exposing herself to the modern world. He looked at her, seeing if she was embarrassed. He couldn't tell. No, she looked more curious. He had to ask Erin what she was shown, intrigued at what she thought. Erin then described the scenes in vivid detail, telling the actions of the porn actors, her own emotions and what Lucy said. A man and woman slowly undressed, she was eaten out, then she gave the man a blowjob and then they had sex. Pretty vanilla. "Can I ask you something? Were you watching porn that night?" Erin then asked. That night. It felt so long ago to Jack; his life had changed so much. He told her yes, and wasn't surprised when Erin asked what type of porn. Lucy had really provided her some tutoring as Erin began rattling off porn genres. "Do you want to see what I watched?" Erin blushed but nodded her head. Jack set his laptop on the bed, directly in between them. He told her what he usually liked, amateur, lesbian and Point of view. Looking at Erin, her face was red, but she had this eager look on her, still curious. He played some videos, letting her watch for a while before asking her opinion. "It's. It's something," she said, sounding breathless. Erin watched each video carefully, amazed. One was through a man's eyes, bedding a young woman with many tattoos, which confused her as tattoos only belong to wealthy males during her time. Her eyes would drift to the right side of the page, suggested scenes. The words they used shocked her, anal, stepmom and orgy. Jack then played another movie; this time, it was two women. Erin had this initial disgust, but it slowly disappeared as the women sensually writhed together. It quickly got too much for her. She turned to face Jack, seeing a large bulge in his pants. She didn't know why, but Erin asked if Jack needed to sort himself. She insisted. He nervously pulled out his penis; her eyes flared at the sight of it, hard and veiny. With his dominant hand, Jack then slowly stroked his shaft. Erin quickly became entranced by the action, wishing that she could touch his cock again. But she became distracted, heat from her groin rippled up to her brain; Erin wanted to touch herself. Her eyes glued on him, she hitched up her skirt and slid her hand underneath her bloomers. Both Jack and Erin forgot about the Female-female-male scene that was playing and just stared at each other. Jack's hand became a blur over his cock, while Erin had slid two fingers deep into her pussy. There was little resistance from her Catholic upbringing; all those years she had been told that self-pleasure was a mortal sin were forgotten. Jack then cried out her name as ropes of cum shot out his cockhead. He grabbed a tissue and quickly caught the other spurts. Erin came immediately after him, also crying his name. There was no awkwardness between them as they settled in bed, watching each other as their breathing went back to normal. Jack then said something that made Erin's heart thud, saying that he wished that he could kiss her. She didn't want to think about that as they watched TV. She was still this spirit, telling herself that this could be her life until the Last Judgement. Still, Erin couldn't believe that she would ever try something like that with a man. Glancing at him, he was more handsome than her previous men. It was no contest with Patrick, her forty-something betrothed. With rotten teeth and shaking hands, Erin had hated the thought of touching him. Jack was more like Robert. Not physically, Jack was taller but didn't have Robert's square jaw and his lighter brown hair. Since seeing his naked body during the s ance, Erin noticed that Jack was more athletic than her previous lover. But Jack had Robert's charming and intelligent personality. He was also honest and aware of his limitations, unlike Robert. Whenever they were away from the Franklins, Erin would see him turn into an almighty braggart after a drink. They heard the front door opened then quickly closed. Lucy Prepares for a Resurrection. "Erin? Jack?" Lucy yelled. "In here," Jack said back. She was carrying a big tote bag as she walked into the living room. "Hey guys," Lucy smiled, "You okay?" Both Jack and Erin shrugged and then nodded their heads, saying fine at the same time. "What are you guys watching?" Lucy asked, facing the TV. "I don't know," Erin then turned to Jack and asked, "Which movie is this one?" "It's the Mistletoe Connection." "I've been watching a number of these Hallmark Christmas movies." Erin said, then shrugged her shoulders. "I do enjoy them, but I am finding a pattern. Struggling family business, a woman from the big city, a father with a young child and a lack of minorities?" She glanced at Jack to see if she was correct. He smiled and nodded. "We've been watching Christmas movies non-stop. If this ritual goes like it should, then Erin's going to be out in the world with no pop culture reference point. We watched Gremlins earlier and I figured that she needs a palate cleanser." "I was streaked," Erin said, looking back at Lucy. "She means scared." "For once, I was glad that I am a spirit. Those monsters would have made me cascade if I had a body." "She means puke." Jack then turned to Erin, and they exchanged grins. "You need to switch to Netflix Christmas movies. There's more variety." Lucy said. She took a seat and pulled the grimoire. "I need to ask you some questions, Erin. I want to make sure that we can get everything right for the ritual. Also, I can't find where you were buried." "Of course." "Why don't you guys take the living room. I probably should do some work today." Jack said, standing up. "Do you want some coffee, Lucy?" Lucy said yes, and they quickly settled around the coffee table. She booted up her laptop and asked Erin about her past, trying to squeeze information out of her last days alive. Erin gave vague answers back to her. She had been asked about this before, she hated thinking back. "What's going on?" Lucy asked, lowering her notepad. "What do you mean?" "You keep looking away and you're repeating yourself. What's going on?" "It's just," Erin said, but then stopped. "Lucy, I just need to tell someone about what had happened." Erin then leaned in, wanting to make sure that there was no way Jack could eavesdrop on them. Erin then told her how she and Jack watched porn, first describing the videos she saw. She caught Lucy's eyes widen as she went on. Erin then did a long exhale and told her that the evening ended with her and Jack mutually masturbating. Just like a move from a sitcom, Lucy did a spit take. Wiping her mouth, she turned back to Erin and said, "Sorry. But that's really hot. I didn't know that you can do that." "Nor did I," Erin replied, "I just can't control myself around him. I want to feel him again. To kiss him." "Just kiss?" Erin blushed and dropped her head. "I do have some other carnal thoughts." "Let's see what happens tomorrow. If I'm reading this thing right. You might get to have some fun tomorrow." "If only," Erin said. "So, you going to do it again?" Lucy asked grinning. Erin said nothing, trying not to laugh. "Hey, I'm a pervert," Lucy said, shrugging her shoulders. They went back to their research. Finding Erin's burial was difficult. Her death certificate was nonexistent. Either the hundred years that passed since her death made it impossible to find, or it was another insult by the Franklins. "O, space, then C-E-A-L-L-A-C-H-A-I-N," Erin said, spelling out her last name. "I'm not going to pretend to try to pronounce that." Lucy typed in the search bar and then asked, "I thought your last name is O'Callaghan?" "It is. That's just the Irish spelling. Jack said that if we are successful, I'll need identity papers. I may shorten it to Callaghan." Erin shrugged and looked away. With that done, Erin helped Lucy find her grave. She learnt that the Franklins had her buried in a Potter's field-like cemetery in a town near the border with New Hampshire. She also told Lucy more about her life, traveling across the Atlantic from Ireland, Boston and being forced to move to Portland due to Patrick. They were in deep concentration, but quickly looked up, hearing a car door slam shut. Then some voices that sounded like there were coming from outside.   Parents Pop In. The front door opened, and a deep-sounding voice yelled, "Jack?" Jack jumped out of his chair; he was already prepared. He had been going over this moment since morning. He had to distract his parents while Lucy and, more importantly, Erin had to exit without drawing too much attention. His mom will probably faint if she saw Erin phase through walls, his dad would definitely spend an hour asking Erin to do tricks. He met them by the door and quickly lobbed questions at them. While his dad went upstairs to use the bathroom, Jack marshaled his mom into the kitchen. He showed her what he had bought for Christmas dinner, and asked about other things that they might need. In the living room, Lucy frantically piled her notes, her laptop and the grimoire back in her bag. She bounced from different spots of the room, trying to tidy up without being caught. Erin followed her around the room, not knowing what else to do. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Lucy said out loud but to herself. "Please be calm," Erin said, resting a hand on Lucy's shoulder though both could feel nothing. "We can say that we border together. But that we have to go now." "That's not a bad idea." Lucy replied. She paused and stared at Erin's clothes. "Can you do yourself up. Like how you used to look." Erin had her sleeves pulled up to her elbows, her hair down and her shoes were under Jack's bed. It was this weird quirk that she could change her appearance briefly, but it would just reset itself to how she always looked. Sometimes it was random, or if she just thought strongly enough. She nodded her head, and then Erin pressed her chest like she was doing the pledge of allegiance. With a quick flash, every bit of her clothing and her hair was back in its place. "Let's go," she said. While Jack was distracting his mother, they walked to the door, both looking at the kitchen. As Lucy opened the door, she waved at Erin and pointed to her mouth. Erin got the hint and said, "Bye Jack. We have to go." "Thanks for your help," Lucy added. They watched as a woman in her late fifties walked out of the kitchen. She was then joined by Jack. He looked like he was biting his lower lip. "Well, hello," she said. Her face had this inquisitive look like she was quickly judging them. "Hello, I am Erin," she said, "This is Miss; umm Lucy." "Hi, I'm Mary. Jack's mom," she replied, "That's umm interesting dress that you are wearing." Erin stayed quiet, her face frozen and her eyes stretched wide. "Oh, Erin's just shy," Lucy said, "She came from a rehearsal." She then turned to Erin and asked, "You're playing Scrooge's maid, right?" "Yes," Erin replied, not sounding anywhere convincing. "I'm sorry, but we need to be leaving." Jack left his mom's side and walked to the door, blocking her view of Erin just in case. "See you guys later," he said loud enough for his mom to hear him. He then leaned in and whispered, "Hide in my room, I'll be up soon." Both Lucy and Erin nodded. Jack slowly closed the door, watching Erin fade away as soon as she stepped outside. Lucy twisted her head left to right; he guessed that she was checking if anyone noticed a nineteenth-century maid disappear. Jack then locked the door and turned around, seeing his mother giving him a sly look. She suspected something. She was going to ask him so many questions, he knew it.   Inconvenient Parents. Erin stared out of the window, bored. She realized that she had never really checked out the change in her surroundings. That was interesting for a while, but after two hours, she needed something else to do. Erin had tried to see if she could focus all her energy and press the TV remote power button but got nowhere. She attempted not to think about the ceremony tomorrow. Thoughts of her future, of Jack and life would occasionally creep in her head, and Erin had to ignore them. She trusted herself, knowing that if it went wrong and she would stay like this, that she could survive. But what about Jack? There was a knock and Erin turned her head. "Erin?" Jack said before opening the door and poking his head in. "Jack?" "Sorry, I had to leave you alone for so long. Mom and Dad really wanted to know what I've been up to." Jack then climbed onto his bed and switched the TV on. He flipped through the channels before settling on ESPN. He looked at the door as he played around with the volume. "I understand." Erin then joined him on the bed. "Oh yeah. Mom really likes the tree. I told her that you helped me decorate it." "Were they upset that I didn't fully introduce myself to them?" "No. Not really. But over dinner, Mom wanted to know about you. I had to think of something to say. I told them that I met you recently and we've been seeing each other. Also, you're crashing at Lucy's." "Seeing each other?" Erin replied, "Is that what modern courtship is?" "Something like that," Jack said, smiling, "What was courtship like in 1800s?" "Courtship was not for people like me. Especially for someone from Ireland. My Dad worked with a man and the fellow said he was looking for a wife. My Dad then brought him home one night, I may have said five words to Patrick during dinner. Two weeks later, we were engaged." "Whoa. Is that what you wanted?" "I never had a say. My parents said I was to be married and that was it." "What did you think about Patrick?" "A drunk," Erin said, rolling her eyes. "I could tell the type of husband he was going to be during that dinner. I was to be a nurse for him, bring him whiskey, wash him and clean off umm vomit from his mouth." She blushed again, still not comfortable with some modern words. "But when he died. How old were you? Couldn't you marry someone else?" "I was 25. A different time. One that I am so happy to be out of." Erin smiled. "There is something I want to ask. Is courtship similar to dating?" "Dating?" "I've heard that word spoken so many times in this house. Back when I was alive, dating meant buying a night with a whore." Jack tried to explain what dating meant now. The use of apps, having coffee dates or low-key ones like going shopping. Also, casual sex and friends-with-benefits. The dating stages, how couples usually go from casual acquaintances to dating, boyfriend and girlfriend, moving into together and finally getting married if they like. He saw Erin's shocked look when he explained that divorce was so common and accepted. Jack carried on, saying how some couples don't use labels to describe themselves; some do while others have their own thing. Embarrassed, but Jack had no choice to use experience from his own life. "We have had sex." Erin said, slowly smiling, "I guess we're more boyfriend and girlfriend." "Probably." Jack replied, smirking at her. Jack's phone then started buzzing and interrupted them. Reaching to the nightstand, Lucy was calling him on Facetime. He turned to Erin and said, "Lucy's video-calling me." "Video-calling? So, she can see us? Wow." Jack answered and said, "Hey Lucy, what's up? Where are you?" They could see Lucy in a dimly lit storeroom. There were boxes of Budweiser beer and whiskey stacked behind her. Her clothes also looked weird for her, wearing a white shirt and a black leather apron. There was no make-up on her face, and her hair was tied back. "I got a shift at the Cord & Rifle. Anyway, how you guys doing?" Erin looked at Jack, he shrugged, and she turned back to Lucy saying, "We're good." "What happened to your mom & dad?" "They had some questions. I told them that I've been seeing Erin for a while and you guys came over, so I can help you with your laptop." "And. I am uh, crashing; at your home," Erin said, emphasizing any modern words. "Cool, cool." Lucy looked passed her phone, then there was a knock and a muffled voice. She nodded and said, "They need me back behind the bar. There was also one thing. Tomorrow, it's just us and your parents, right? Like your sisters aren't going to burst in while we're burning sage or nude?" "Nude?" Erin looked at Jack, squinting her eyes. He shook his head and turned back to Lucy, "No. You don't have to worry about them. Katie and Beth will be flying out on 23rd. They got tickets to Taylor Swift tomorrow. Unless LA gets a plague of spiders, they are going to be there." "Okay then," Lucy nodded, "So, we need to drug your parents," she said, so casual. She then looked away, mouthing 'what' at someone. "Shit, I need to go." "What do you mean, drug my parents?" "Yeah, we need to drug them." Lucy stood up and looked like she was moving. "Why?" "They have to be drugged," Lucy replied, "Bye guys!" Jack glanced at Erin, then back to his blank phone screen. Tomorrow is going to be a long, stressful day. *** In a couple of hours, the Winter Solstice would happen, and Erin sat on Jack's bed. She watched him paced in the room, on the phone with one of his sisters. He said that he was helping her out with a computer problem, but as he talked to his sister, Erin only heard half of the conversation and it made no sense to her. She never really interacted with anyone else in the house. Before Jack and his family moved in, Erin tried to keep to herself, always in the corner of the eye of the house's occupants for a quick second, then disappearing. She didn't even want to be seen by Jack initially but had no choice as her attic became his bedroom. Few times, she would find herself in his sisters' rooms and would see them. Erin struggled to remember their names. What was she supposed to say whenever she meets them? Erin clenched her eye shut, hating herself. It was wrong to think about the future. There were so many things that could go wrong. Jack ended the called and turned to Erin, "I hate being the family's I T support," he said, rolling his eyes. "I T?" "Never mind." He settled on the bed next to her and slipped on his boots. "It'll be weird when I introduce you to them. Katie will be anywhere from cool to disinterested. I know for a fact that Beth will be asking you non-stop questions. She's a pain like that." Erin smiled and said, "You're being too confident. It might not happen. And if this ritual fails, I will accept it with grace." "Really?" "I need to. Just so I can stay sane." "I've got a text from Lucy. She's outside." Jack stood up and grabbed his jacket. "I have faith something will happen. Something good," he said, smiling back at her. "It's like a 40-minute drive to the cemetery. We will be a while. Try to stay here until me or Lucy come up." "Good luck," Erin replied. It was getting too much for her. Erin knew how she was feeling over him. She loved Jack. It terrified her. If the ritual fails, what would happen to Jack, Erin asked herself. He had this single-minded focus on helping her. She was worried that if it doesn't work, he won't be able to move on.   Lucy pulled her Ford over and cut the engine. Jack wasn't going to say anything to her, but her car should not be making those types of sounds. It was like a Transformer was having a heart attack. Looking out of the window, he didn't see anyone. They left the car and slowly walk to the wall; it looked low enough for them to climb. Jack didn't know if there was some kind of night guard but said to Lucy that they should sneak in, just in case. She agreed, and soon he was boosting her over the wall. Climbing over, Jack landed on frozen grass that crunch with every step. They were lucky with the wind howling, making enough noise to cover their movements. "You ever been in a cemetery before?" Lucy asked, flashing the torch at a gravestone. "No. Have you?" "Yeah," she replied, "Loads of times; its part of the job. When I started hearing voices of the dead, I was like a goth goddess. Every Friday, someone was dragging me to a cemetery or a graveyard. Guys would hit on me all the time. I gave my first handy at a grave." "I got my first one during a school trip to Bangor," he said, looking at a gravestone, "I'm pretty sure that I told Erin about it." "How's Erin handling it?" Lucy asked, "Is she freaking out being a real woman again?" "Not really." Lucy stopped and Jack did the same. "Have you guys said anything about the future?" Jack sighed and shook his head. "Where's she going to stay? You're going back to Boston; is she going to follow you or stay here? She will need help with ID and social security." "I know. But Erin just doesn't want to think about the future. Talking about Boston, what she wants to do with her life and everything else, it will fucking hurt if tomorrow she's still a ghost. She's protecting herself." Lucy nodded and said, "I understand." Jack looked around, feeling that they were lost. Realizing that there was no guard and they were definitely alone, Jack and Lucy walked to the entrance. From there, they methodically worked their way up, finding Erin's grave after thirty minutes of searching. Lucy bent down and jammed a trowel into the ground. The frozen soil being too hard for her and Jack quickly took over. It took a couple of jabs to loosen the dirt. He scooped it up and funneled it into a sterilized container. Jack did ask why the box had to be sterilized. "You ever seen the Fly?" Lucy replied, tightening the lid around the plastic box, "You don't want her DNA mixing with something else. Turning her into a hybrid." "Really?" "Nah. It's just what it says to do in the grimoire," Lucy grinned, "Okay's let's get the hell out of here and roofie your parents." The Resurrection at Solstice. Jack searched the pantry for marshmallows, knowing that they were there somewhere. Lucy was upstairs with Erin. She was surprisingly easy to sneak into the house without his mom and dad noticing. While she was keeping Erin company, Jack was making his parents cocoa. Lucy had given him some weird smelling liquid to mix into the cocoa. It should make them fall asleep. He had to hide his look of glee when his dad said yes when he asked. If he didn't, they would be in trouble. He handed them the cocoa and settled down on the sofa, away from his parents. They were watching some Holiday cake show, and Jack would occasionally look up from his phone; they were still awake but getting quiet. Five minutes, he caught his mom closing her eyes and his dad doing that move of falling asleep, then jolting back awake. Ten minutes later, they were both deep asleep. He knew that they would be pissed at him in the morning, letting them sleep all night on the sofa. Waiting another ten minutes, Jack checked that they were still asleep and texted Lucy. It took just seconds for Erin to suddenly appear in his living room and the sound of Lucy running down the stairs. Both also checked if his parents were out cold; he guessed that they were also scared of being interrupted. "What did you give them?" Jack asked, staring at his snoring parents. "Oh, Valerian root and CBD oil," Lucy said, "We should get ready." "How long do we have?" Erin asked. "We got time," Lucy replied, looking at her phone. "The solstice is at 12:34am. This ritual has to happen during that time." "So, what do we have to do?" Jack said. They went back into Jack's room. Just like the s ance, they had to use the bedroom to host the ritual. Jack pushed everything to one side again, leaving a large empty space. Lucy made another circle, this time out of salt. There was something wrong with this; Jack had seen horror movies that use rings of salt as protection from the Devil. He wanted to ask if they're technically practicing Satanism. "This is just to make sure that we contain any kind of magic that we've created," Lucy said. After the circle was done, Jack placed seven black candles around the ring. They smelt funny, like someone could get high from the fumes. Lucy then put the grave dirt in the circle, making a pile with her hands. Directly opposite the soil, she positioned the silver bucket they had used before. While they worked on the preparations, Erin stood next to the door, silently watching them. Once Lucy said they were ready, they headed downstairs and to the kitchen. There was still some time to go, at least forty minutes. They could have waited in Jack's room, but both he and Lucy were too scared to touch anything and ruin the ritual. With Jack's parents snoring in the living room, they settled around the kitchen table. "Do you want something to drink?" Jack asked, breaking the silence between them. "Oh, god yes." Jack reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "Dad got a bottle of Maker's Mark from my uncle," he said, pouring glasses for him and Lucy. They both quickly finished the bourbon and refilled their glasses. But Jack paused before taking another sip. He looked up from his drink to Erin and said, "Sorry about this." "Me too," Lucy said, hesitating as well. "But, if this works. I'm going to take you to a bar and we'll get hammered." Erin looked away and chuckled to herself. "Today, is it really that special? The Winter Solstice." "Yeah," Lucy said, "There's so many things that happen today. Yule is celebrated today by pagans and Satanists. Then there's the whole life-death-reborn symbolism of it, being the shortest day." She took another sip of bourbon and asked, "If this ritual works or doesn't, you're still going to experience a modern Christmas. How was that like back in 1890s?" Erin let out a quick smile and shrugged her shoulders. She said, "It was the same. There was Father Christmas ;  Santa, Christmas trees and presents. When I was alive, I'd go to church number of times before Christmas. My mam and my nana would give me presents on 6th December. How about you two? What are your traditions?" "Mine are really boring," Jack said, "Typical Christmas. Exchange gifts, eat too much, drink too much. But it's the only time my sisters do all of the cooking. Like Christmas dinner is their time to shine. Later in the evening, we go to the movies. Lucy?" "Pass," she said, "With this talking to dead people, I never really celebrated Christmas. Normally out getting drunk with friends or strangers." Lucy then checked her phone and then said, "We should probably stop drinking. It's getting near midnight and I probably shouldn't be swaying when I start reading the grimoire. And if you drink too much, it might affect your plumbing. And we need a good, sexy, show." Jack rolled his eyes and stood up. He said, "I don't know anything about sex magic and what it does. But I really think you just want to watch us fuck." Erin stood next to him, blushing uncontrollably. She covered her face and looked away. "Maybe," Lucy grinned, "You guys go to your room and I'm gonna get changed and we'll start." Jack and Erin were in his bedroom, standing inside the circle. They stayed quiet, not even keeping eye contact with each other. Jack would open his mouth from time to time and try to say something, probably some reassuring words to Erin. He had none, though; so he kept his mouth shut and waited. His bedroom door swung open, and in walked Lucy. She had changed, replacing her jeans and sweatshirt with an ankle-length black dress. It had long sleeves and fit snugly around her curves. She also pulled her long blonde hair in a ponytail, wearing black lipstick and eye shadow. She could see them staring at her and said, "I'm trying to match what they were usually wear for this kind of thing." "So, should we get started?" Jack asked. "Yeah. You start lighting the candles. I'm going to start the fire and burn the sage." It was just like as Jack thought, the weird-smelling candles that he placed around the circle started exhaling a strange odor. It smelt like weed, but some cheap, disgusting weed. After that was done, he joined Erin back in the circle. Smoke from the sage filled the room, but it wasn't overpowering like the night of the s ance. Lucy held the grimoire tightly and rounded the circle, standing in front of the dirt. "I'm going to start reading the grimoire. When you can, start kissing and do you-know-what." "Are you okay?" Jack asked as he stood in front of Erin. "Yeah. I'm calm." Jack dropped his eyes to her hands. She was trembling. "Okay guys, let's get weird," Lucy said before she began reading. "Our good being. Bear this night lights open this fruit female. Set the Cork grass light. Her fruit diminished. Days gathering seasons said air together for every day lost. Given her wherein dry replenish. Light her subdued wings." Lucy lowered her head, facing Jack and Erin. They both looked puzzled. Lucy rolled her eyes and said, "Just, kiss now!" Jack tried to take Erin's hand, but his fingers went through hers. She widened her eyes, scared at what was not happening. She was still non-corporeal. Something had gone wrong, and they could be out of time. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Lucy said to herself, frantically flipping through the grimoire. Jack kept eye contact with Erin and asked, "Lucy, can't we do this another day?" "No. Today is the day Erin died and it falls on the Winter Solstice. We might have to wait another year or two for the right time to occur, again." "If we wait," he said, still looking at a scared Erin, "There is no way Erin could go unnoticed by my parents. Even if I stay here." Lucy jumped into the circle and stood in front of Erin. "You have to possess me." "What?" Erin said, nearly yelling, "Why

A Holiday Haunting: Part 1 Jack returns home and reconnects with his old ghost crush. Based on a post by zeon 67. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Oh. Shit! She's back. Jack had to drop everything and run to the living room; he needed to see her again. His coffee mug shattering against the kitchen floor meant little to him. Jack followed her out of the room, stumbling into the den and crashed into a chair. Any pain that he felt was instantly ignored; he just had to see her face. But she phased through the bookcase, leaving him disappointed. Ten years. It had been ten years since Jack had last seen Erin. Just a brief peek of her ghostly form, and Jack was a teenager again. The first time he met Erin, he was thirteen. Jack's parents had dragged the family from Boston to live in a stock horror mansion outside Portland, Maine. He hated everything about it, feeling depressed, isolated from his old life. Then he saw her. She appeared late one night as Jack attempted to fall asleep. His eyes widened as this woman floated in front of his bed. She wore a bulky, dark shirt with a lighter collar, a long apron over a skirt that reached her ankles and sensible shoes. Pale skin and white hair held up in a professional bun. She stood translucent and hovered a foot off the ground. Jack was freaking out, shaking under the covers and trying to release a scream. But watching her body float, her head crooked to the side with a curious smile, Jack felt an eerie calm. He sat up in his bed and examined her further. She was beautiful, an oval face with dimples, full lips, and wide, expressive eyes. He tried to guess her age, but it was impossible due to her intangible form. "Hello;" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and unconvincing. She smiled again at him before disappearing. "Fuck." Jack immediately fainted. He awoke late in the morning, still shaken. Jack ran down to his family, yelling at them in the kitchen at what he had just seen. His parents responded with blank looks. His sisters both snickered, cracking jokes about Jack's nighttime activities, and how it must have affected his brain. But as he continued, the jokes stopped, and soon Jack had weekly sessions with Dr. Miller. It was like a month until he saw her again. Jack was alone in the house and found Erin standing in between his bed. He screamed this time, but Erin just replied with a smile. She looked amused by his actions. She disappeared, and Jack had to wait another month before catching her on the stairs. But he had a plan, knowing what he should do the next time he ever saw her again. "Jack!" His mother yelled from upstairs. "What Happened!" Jack rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I dropped my mug." He shouted back up, praying that his parents won't come down. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Jack had returned home early, hoping just to relax and forget about Laura. Retreating into the kitchen, he ignored the mess he'd left behind. He wasn't that heartbroken about the end of the relationship; he just needed to get out of Boston for a while. Jack filled up a glass of water and took a couple of gulps, trying to steady himself. The plan was to drink, eat loads and watch football. But now, Jack was instantly consumed by the need to see Erin again.   Erin's Further Revelations. Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He guessed that it was probably two in the morning. He should be asleep, but restless energy had overpowered him, just like when he was a teenager. The weeks after her second appearance, Jack woke early in the morning and saw Erin staring out of the window. She turned to him and then disappeared. Every couple of weeks, he would see Erin around the house, mostly in his room, but always when he was alone. Whenever Jack saw her, Erin would disappear, fade into nothing in front of him. After a dozen or so appearances, Erin and Jack got used to seeing each other over the year. He would see her, and they would exchange brief smiles before would Erin dissolve. Jack got used to finding her in random places, occasionally pretending that she was never there when Erin materialized during family dinners. Though she mostly appeared in his room. He was also sure that he was the only one who could see her, which developed a special bond as he aged. It was just a shame they couldn't talk to each other. Whatever break in the dimensions that brought her here didn't allow them to speak or hear one another. Over the years, Jack and Erin relied on non-verbal communication, making up their own sign language while also writing out words on paper. Jack's parents were weirded out one Christmas when he asked for a dry erase board. He would come home from school and rush to his room, wondering if that day was the day she would appear. If he found her there, Jack would tell her about his day, what had changed since they last spoke, and random thoughts in his head. She would eagerly listen to him and try to respond in her own way. She had become this nonjudgmental friend that he could bounce off from as he dealt with his new surroundings and the horror of puberty. It took two years for Jack to know Erin's name. They were together in his room; the house was empty apart from them. It felt that Erin had trained herself to emerge only when he was alone. Jack sat on his bed, talking to Erin. For the hundredth time, he had asked her name. She led him to the bathroom and pointed to the faucet. Running the hot water, he saw Erin smile as the bathroom mirror started to fog up. She clenched her jaw and pressed a finger up against the glass. Erin's face strained as her form became clearer as she wrote 'ERIN' in the mirror. The smile on Jack's face then quickly vanished as Erin faded into nothing. He wouldn't see her for another two months. Jack rolled onto his stomach, feeling his cock throb against his leg. Without any prompting, his mind cast back when he turned 18, and Erin gave him a special present. It was one of the few times that Erin appeared, when there were other people in the house. He was half-asleep, playing on his PlayStation when she materialized. Jack shuffled back and collapsed on the bed. There was something off about her that night, her body was trembling, and her face was stone-like. With great energy, her lips curled into a smile, and there was a flash. The clothing that Jack had always seen her in the last five years had disappeared into nothing, leaving her naked. A loud guttural groan escaped Jack's mouth; it was the first time he had seen a naked woman. Her body was slim, graceful, like a dancer, and perfect. He stared at her small but firm tits; Jack assumed they were B-cups and wished he could have his hands over them. Her skin then began to change, turning from a clear white to a fair skin tone. He noticed rusty-colored freckles dot around her angular nose framed by long reddish-brown hair. Then two bright green eyes stared back, overwhelming him. "Fuck," Jack whispered. His mouth dry, his stomach twisted into knots, and all the blood drained into his penis. He was in love or lust; it was all the same back then to him. Jack rolled off the bed and waddled to the bathroom, holding out the used tissue as far away from him as if it was toxic. He was only exposed to her for a few moments before she vanished. Still, Erin's naked form had been seared entirely in his brain, giving him special comfort during lonely nights. Dumping the balled-up tissue in the toilet, he started washing his hands. The general feeling of self-disgust hit him, but this time with more power. He was fantasizing about a long-dead woman. It's not right. He crawled back into his bed and reached for his laptop. Opening the browser, Jack thought to himself for a moment before going to incognito mode. He might need some privacy should anyone have a look at his search history. In the search bar, he typed 'Medium Psychic, And Portland, Maine.'   Ophelia's Services. The doorbell rang, and Jack quickly set down his coffee and rushed to the door. He briefly checked himself out in the hallway mirror; he looked normal. Jack wanted to make sure that he pulled that off, a navy oxford shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, that all screamed normal to him. Jack then mentally thought about what he was going to say to the medium. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in this. He could tell her about Erin, maybe use her name. Also, he could say where she usually appears and does. Probably shouldn't mention Erin getting naked as some kind of birthday present. He then wished that the medium agreed a later time just so he could rationalize having a drink. During Thanksgiving dinner, Jack told his family that he wanted to stay in Maine for a while, maybe until after Christmas. He had exaggerated the effects that the disintegration of his relationship with Laura had on him. It was a blatant lie; his parents knew it, his sisters didn't care, but no one really questioned it. He prayed that none of them would ever find out that he booked a medium. This Ophelia from Portland, Jack didn't know what he wanted from her. From movies, he had been told that ghosts that roam around usually have unfinished business. If somehow the medium was legit and could talk to Erin, he didn't know if it would be best if Erin moved on. Opening the door, a young woman stood, waiting impatiently. Their eyes met, and Jack was stunned to find his assumptions shattered. He was expecting a woman in her fifties, heavy makeup, and lots of necklaces, someone like that Long Island psychic. Instead, a woman stood in front of him who looked like she was in her twenties, with blonde wavy hair and a curvy figure. She gave an impression of an Instagram influencer with tight high-waisted jeans, a simple tee, and a suede jacket. "Jack Taylor?" she said, pinching her mouth shut and curving her lips upward. "Ophelia?" Jack arched an eyebrow without thinking. She nodded and walked past him, taking in the house. A Victorian-style mansion, built in the 1860s, with five bedrooms, a parlor, a giant fireplace that could fit a body, a near-constant fog-covered backyard, and a bloody-red painted door. She looked unimpressed. Ophelia raised her hands and fluttered her fingers, doing a sort of jazz hands while slowly spinning. Jack had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, but she's young and hot. Was this a con? Did he want it to be one? "Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked, trying to get a read of the situation. He then glanced at the clock. His parents should be home in a couple of hours; he had time. "I'm fine." She replied, flashing another smile. "Should we deal with the money first?" Taken back, he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled $150 in cash. He looked at the money and felt grateful that he would only pay an extra fifty if the reading exceeded the hour. Handing her the folded bills, Jack felt a breeze. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Erin. He had been sensing her a lot, recently. "Nice house. Really Stephen King-like." Ophelia gave another forced smile. "Can you give me a tour?" Jack nodded and he took her to the home office, explaining what he had seen the other day. Ophelia took a quick photo and hummed; she felt nothing. Jack then led her around the house, describing where he had seen Erin and what she would do. Ophelia stayed quiet for most of the tour, her phone in her hand, occasionally checking it. He then explained his relationship with Erin. Jack recounted every meeting he had with her, including how he found out her name. When Jack said that he was the only one in the house that had ever seen Erin, he noticed a quick change in Ophelia's face. She definitely assumed that he's psychotic. As they climbed the stairs to Jack's bedroom, Ophelia suddenly became talkative. She put away her phone and asked several questions at rapid-fire speed. "So, who previously owned the house before you moved in? Erin, do you know her last name? Where she's from? Was she born here? Has anyone called Erin lived in the house before?" Jack knew nothing. He had known Erin for ten years and yet knew nothing about her. The house must have been her home or where she worked. He now knew what he had to find out, but Jack had no idea how he would research such things. Speak to a local historian, maybe? He should go to the library tomorrow. They entered his bedroom, a familiar feeling of cold hit his body again. Jack eyed the psychic; there was no change in her body language. Maybe she's a fake. Ophelia wandered around the room, doing the jazz hands again and calling Erin's name. His eyes narrowed on her chest, then to her slim waist, and then to her tight ass; she looked cute. It had been some time since Jack had anything close to sex. It ended with Laura over two months ago, and since then, a brunette ghost was the only thing he had to female company. Ophelia reached in her jeans and pulled out a velvet pouch. Opening it up, a nub of chalk fell into her palm. She then bent down and drew a circle just in front of Jack's bed. The circle was about three feet wide. Ophelia then drew four smaller circles inside the ring, north, east, south, and west. Jack watched her place crystals in each circle, wondering if he would be able to clean the chalk off his floor. "What are you going to do?" Jack asked, trying not to stare at the medium's ass. "I am going to summon Erin. I am going to see if we can talk to her and find out her unfinished business." "What would her unfinished business be?" "It could be anything," Ophelia said, looking around the room. "Some want revenge, especially if they were like murdered. Others are looking for missing rings, lockets or whatever. With my help, Erin could be able to move on." Jack nodded. She was right. It was fun seeing her again, he missed talking to her, but there had to be some conclusion for Erin. After Christmas, he will be back in Boston. Maybe it was best that she moved on, got closure from this world. The psychic then took off her boots and stood inside the circle. Kneeling, Ophelia raised her arms, praying to the ceiling. "Erin; Erin; Erin;" she chanted, raising her head, "Speak to us. Speak; Erin, come to us; come to Jack and me." She sang Erin's name a couple of times with no change in her composure. "Yes, Erin, I hear you. How can we help you?" Ophelia said, lacking any emotion. "How can we help you move?" Ophelia then went silent and very still. Her back was arched, and her head pointed up. Leaning in, Jack realized that her chest wasn't moving anymore; was she even breathing? Beads of sweat flowed down her face as the rest of the body began to tremble. Something was wrong. Ophelia then shuddered and Jack could see the color disappear from her face. She then slowly stood up. Looking at Jack, she gave him a warm smile. "Jack!" Ophelia then said, emphasizing the wrong parts of the name. Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her body language was weird, not so closed off as it was before. Her eyes then focused on her left hand, marveling how far it was extended. The tips of her fingers then ran down Jack's chest. The broad grin on Ophelia's face got even wider as she felt him up. "It is me, Jack; Erin." Ophelia grinned. "No." Jack shook his head and took a step back. This had to be some weird psychic con. Was Ophelia going to sleep with him? "Ophelia, I think you should get out." "I am Erin." She closed the distance and reached for his hand. "I can prove it. You told me everything and I listened. Once you were overly excited in your classroom by a teacher. You frequently enjoy lobster rolls. And once I removed my clothing for you on your birthday." Jack whimpered, trying to collect his thoughts. Before he called Ophelia, he had read up on cold reading, but she knew things that he had never shared with anyone. Jack hit his bed frame and toppled over, hitting the mattress. He tried to compute what was going on, justify Ophelia's insider knowledge of him. But then the blonde climbed up on the bed, her body floating as she straddled him. This was real. "Jack; I missed you." Ophelia or Erin then leaned in and kissed him forcibly. Quickly sneaking her tongue into his mouth while she rubbed her body against his. Moaning as his tongue dueled, Jack was lost in a world of teenage lust. He had dreams about this, spent countless hours awkwardly pleasuring himself to the fantasy of having sex with Erin. But as he opened his eyes and remembered the blonde hair that flowed above him, this wasn't Erin. Maybe in spirit, but not in body. He pulled his face away and sighed. "Erin; no." Jack said, trying to push the possessed medium off him. "Not like this." "What?" Ophelia screamed. She shot back up and glared at him. Her eyes became demonic and bloodshot. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, breaking his skin. She began to shake and wail. "No; No; No!" "Erin; Erin!" Jack tried to get her attention. He reached up and gently touched her face. "I just want to talk to you. Please leave Ophelia." Ophelia's face contorted into a smile. Jack could tell that something was pushing back against Erin. Maybe it was the medium's spirit wanting to regain her body. She thrashed around on top of him, going from sweating to shivering to back to sweating again. Jack snuck out of her convulsing frame and watched with concern. The medium then slammed into the mattress, bounced high up in the air, and then back down. Jack watched her breathe slowly and rolled onto her back. She looked confused and tired. "What the fuck happened?" Ophelia asked as she sat up, her frazzled hair covering her face.   Researching the Franklins. Jack ended the call and rubbed his eyes. The pains of working remotely, struggling to stay productive while also being forced to over communicate just so he won't be called a slacker was too much. The only good thing about his job was that he could move back to Maine and still collect a paycheck. But yet, he hated taking calls from his bosses when it's technically his day off. He knew he shouldn't be cursing his luck. Last night, his parents gave him some excellent news. They needed to go to Springfield and help out Jack's aunt with something. Jack wasn't listening, just focusing on the part when his mom said that they will not be returning until Christmas Eve. Yes, it meant that Jack would have to prepare the house for the holidays, put up the tree, buy the food and sort out the presents. But it also meant that he would be alone in the house; he could plan and try to talk to Erin. Maybe even help her. Finishing his latte, Jack looked up the address for the library and the closing time. Since Ophelia's possession, Jack hadn't sensed Erin's presence. It was worrying. He tried to focus on absorbing as much information about the house. Jack learned that the house was built in 1860 for the Franklins. For more information, he had to drive into the city. As he walked into the library, his heart was thumping in his chest and sweat coated his forehead. Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he had created this pubescent fantasy, and Jack wasn't sure how he would react if that was cracked. What if Erin was an awful person; her death could have been just, and that she was using him. But he still had to find out. Jack sat down at the computer and entered his address and the Franklins in the search bar. Skimming through the records, he got a brief understanding of the family that built his home. Jedidiah Franklin was a local lender who had moved from Boston to Maine due to some unpleasantness. He was followed by his wife, Alice and their two children, Robert and Emma. Franklins lived a dull and typical life and died in the 1900s. "Nothing about Erin," He went through local newspapers and again found nothing odd. Going through the search results, Jack quickly realized that he had been wasting his time, and it was pointless. By the time he reached the fourteenth page, he was about to leave. But instead, he clicked on the link about a stagecoach accident involving the Franklins. Jedidiah, Alice, Robert, and their maid were returning late one night. Their stagecoach collided with a rock, and the maid was thrown out. She died instantly. The article gave the maid's name as Erin O'Ceallachain. Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her or any clues of her past. Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her. He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house. This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his home. The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was for sale.   Tomes of Inquiry. Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations. Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin. He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin. March Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  I saw Robert engaged young Erin in the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston. August Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  That green-eyed temptress was with my son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife. November Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight;  Constable Standish and his ghastly son shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I call for her, the freckled-face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end her services in the new year. Jack paused from reading, and tried to make sense. Green eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks, getting closer to the time when Erin died. December Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  The Irish whore created a scene. Late in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has ruined us. December Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor tonight. It is clear to us. December Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston. I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach. Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid. Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab his notepad, then came back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return, they married Emma to his son to keep his silence. He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he could help her. But; like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on Franklin's living ancestors? The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten. Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended early, and now they wanted to talk about his future. "Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.   Ophelia's Admissions. She stood there in the light rain, looking like another person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it. "Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come in?" Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish. I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness flowing out from her. "Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?" "Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because;" she stepped forward, "what happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did." "Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to his hand like she was pleading with him. "I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy, but then I found out that I was hearing the dead; and I could talk to them. But I don't know, a mix of vodka, and my own cynicism; the spirits don't want to talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you." Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol. "Do you want anything to drink?" He asked. "Please." Lucy nodded. Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse of her bra. "So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin; may have gotten pregnant; and the Franklins decide to murder her, to prevent a scandal?" "Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both sitting on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been murdered here, and they faked the accident." "Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich, and you got a friendly cop who is willing to help, if he gets a favor, that's a straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee. "There is something we can do. I know people in the psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like thing. It's like a s ance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk to her. Then we can help her." "What's the catch? There is always a catch." "Not really. The s ance is a bit complicated and there is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only." "Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a glass. They quickly finished their wine and poured some more.  Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever believed him. He told her about Dr. Miller, and how his dad would make the occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained, and without realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked to a ghost; and what was the weirdest shit she had seen. As Lucy went through her backstory. Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence. "So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her?  What relationship did you guys have?" "Like a friendship. Growing up; Erin was like my confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here." "That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh. "Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend." Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked." "Really?" Her eyes widened. "Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her." "That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy whispered, holding her gaze. "Really?" Jack said, leaning in. Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine. She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked, as she pushed Jack back upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack. Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his lap. Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the turgid shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms. "Yes," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning. With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness. No other girl he had ever been with, was like this. They kept eye-contact as Lucy softly grasped his warm rigid shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his cock, smearing her fingers with his oozing precum. While their tongues dueled again, Lucy's hand became a blur over his cock. They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down, kissing his deep reddened tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and smirked. "Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said. "Just a bit? Jack grinned. "Okay, I'm a deeply deprived slut." She chuckled. Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly humming and smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her wet mouth, firmly constricting, once his glans ridge was encased. Her tongue rubbed his frenulum, just under the tip.  She bobbed her head up and down, her firm round tits jiggling freely on his thighs, as she mouth-fucked him. "Oh; Fuck!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by Lucy swallowing on more and more of his petrified cock. Lucy looked up and grinned at him again, before opening her mouth and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slid up and down his shaft as she fucked him with her mouth. Then she sank til her nose rubbed his curly pubes, her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the hum of sucking filling the room. Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would slowly pull his cock out, ever-so-gently running her teeth on the underside of his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again. It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his meat again, lashing her tongue against his swollen cockhead, slurping up all the saliva and precum. Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling him that within seconds, he was going to cum; soon in big, bold letters. He also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing. He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she worked the shaft of his phallus. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his cock tip. But then he saw a figure near the TV. "Erin?" He said. She was right there and looked like she was in tears. A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed on her face. She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some warning!" "Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit. "Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder, finding that they weren't alone. "Oh Fuck!" "No!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears. Her face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating. She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared. Holiday Trimmings. Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out. Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head. That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How Erin tried to attack them. He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him, Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't be selfish. It wasn't about him. Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he expected to feel her. Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him. With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin? Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted out of the house. "Hey," Jack muttered. "So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked away twice. But I really need to know. What the fuck did I see last night?" "I don't know," Jack said, looking away from Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this scary before. "Until;" "Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close. "You need to tell me." Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?" Lucy shook her head. "She took over your body and err; kissed me. We nearly had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said, " to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up." "She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch, doing you-know-what, and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains all the throwing." "I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled. "Can I ask you something?" Lucy stared into Jack's eyes. Jack shrugged and nodded his head. "What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?" "Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts. But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?" "Fuck it, yeah." He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing to the tree. Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped.  Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet. Erin raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands, clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a scared expression. Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help you." She said, out loud. Erin didn't react. "He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you." Lucy pleaded with the spirit. Again, Erin stayed motionless. Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over my body and speak to him. He would love that." Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan. "Erin?" "What?" The woman barked back at him. "I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a mistake." "Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in a unique tone. "Ye enjoyed every moment with the bonnie lass. I do not wish to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue. Jack sighed; he knew he had to deal with this. A simple apology wasn't going to be enough. "I'm so sorry about that. It's just that for a long time, there was this small voice in the back of my mind, saying that you weren't real and I was having a psychotic episode. When you saw me and Lucy, it was just an extension of that. I doubt it will ever happen again. But I did all this research so I can help you." "Help me?" "Yeah. I want to help you deal with whatever unfinished business you have. Lucy as well. That's why she's here. So, please don't be angry with her." "Unfinished business?" the voice then went quiet. She leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek. Lucy's body went limp and she nearly collapsed. Jack reached out and slid his arms under her. He yelled out 'Erin'; then 'Lucy'; but got no answer. He dragged the unconscious blonde to the sofa. Carefully setting her down, Jack then prodded her cheek, trying to wake her up. She groaned and opened her eyes. "So, what are we going to do?" Lucy said immediately. Business Gets Busy. Jack looked at his phone as he walked through the front door. It was another email from his bosses in Boston. He had way too many people questioning his work. Being a cloud support engineer, he should be focused on the job. But since talking to Lucy about the s ance, Jack had been doing the bare minimum, and people were noticing. He figured that after he got closure with Erin, he could move on. Dumping the sage and wormwood on the coffee table, he saw her. Erin had been appearing more and more. Jack could actually count the times that she wasn't haunting the house. But he didn't get why; it was never this frequent back before. And she wasn't just haunting if you could call it, Jack's room. He had found her in the living room, kitchen and even the bathroom. Right now, Erin was floating near the Christmas tree. It was completely bare, left alone as Jack focused on work and the s ance preparations. There was some judgment he felt he was getting from Erin, like she still hadn't forgiven. Jack needed to remediate that, though he didn't really know how to regain trust with a ghost. He hunted for the Christmas decorations, taking longer than he hoped. Jack was desperate not to call his parents and deal with an endless conversation about how things were going in Springfield. Losing an hour to find them, Jack started decorating the tree, hoping that this will help him get back on Erin's good side. She carefully observed him as he decorated the tree, coating it in tinsel, lights and baubles. It appeared okay to Jack, the colors matched, and the string lights were all working. But looking at Erin, he was sure he had done something wrong. She wasn't that impressed. Jack first thought that she was still pissed at him, but then something hit him. While he saw her a lot during December, it was never on Christmas. This could be her first experience of Christmas in over a hundred years. With that, Jack opened his laptop and googled '19th century Christmas trees'. Getting an idea of what Christmas looked like in Erin's time, Jack grabbed his keys and told her that he will be back soon. Two hours later, Jack returned, and Erin looked like she was happy to see him. That's a positive sign, Jack said to himself as he emptied out his shopping bags. He bounced around a couple of stores before finding them, candle-like tree lights. Using real candles was a fire waiting to happen. And Jack didn't want to explain to his parents that he burnt the house down to impress a ghost. He then pulled out a ready-made popcorn and cranberry garland he got from a pop-up Christmas store. Looking at Erin, she approved by smiling back at him. He then added tinsel and icicle-like ornaments with Erin guiding him, pointing which branch needed something or if it was too much. Taking a step back, Jack admired his work. It looked old fashioned but still good. Seeing that Erin was happy was enough for him. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and toasted, "That's one good-looking tree," he said, smiling at Erin. She rolled her eyes at him but then disappeared. That was getting Jack scared, her fading away just as they were bonding. It didn't look voluntary, like Erin really wanted to go to her void. She had this horrified look whenever it happened. Jack would then find her somewhere else in the house, an hour or two later. This time it was in the kitchen. He opened and closed the refrigerator door and found her there. Taking a moment to recover, Jack went back to making himself dinner. Erin hovered around him, curious at what he was doing. Jack guessed that she must have been shocked, that not many men cooked back in her time. He was also making pork chow-mein, and Jack wasn't sure how widespread Chinese food was in the 19th century. His phone began to buzz, and it was Lucy. Jack could see Erin's face turn. "She's probably asking about you," Jack said, putting his phone on speaker, "Hey Lucy." "Hey," she replied, "I got some news. We have to move the date of the s ance to the 12th. There's a full moon and it will go well with Hecate." "Hecate?" "Don't worry about it. Have you seen Erin since the other day?" Lucy asked, "Well, she is right here," Jack grinned at Erin, "She's in the room with me." "Whoa," she said, "How's that going? Wait shit, can she hear me?" Erin nodded. "Yeah." "Fuck. I mean shit. I mean I'm sorry," Lucy said, sounding like she was getting out of breath, "Anyway, I also need you to get some bundles of ash to burn. And candles, preferably black." "What is actually going to happen during the s ance?" "Hopefully, we can summon Erin properly and you guys can talk. Then maybe work out why is she here and if we can help her, somehow." Jack looked at Erin again. Her eyes were elsewhere. Jack started to doubt himself; was this something that she wanted him to do. "I will talk to you later, Lucy," Jack said, ending the call. Looking up from his phone, he saw that Erin had disappeared again. If the s ance actually works, Jack needed to ask where she goes whenever she vanishes. It didn't feel like a good place for her. Opening another beer, Jack sat down to eat and tried not to think about Erin. It was really hard. She still looked so sexy, and Jack was back replaying his eighteenth birthday present. Jack admitted to himself that with Erin randomly appearing in the house, he was feeling pent up.   Redhead Videos. It was close to two in the morning when Jack knew what he had to do. He had been rolling around his bed, got up twice and tried to dull his brain by checking the news on his phone. He still couldn't sleep. The only prescription that always worked for him was either whiskey or porn. As he couldn't be bothered to go all the way downstairs, Jack powered on his laptop and went straight to Porn. Jack checked out the video thumbnails, hovering over them as he tried to decide what he was in the mood for. Sometimes, he'd be craving blondes with double D-cups, getting plowed by massive cocks. Other times, it would be two lesbians slowly seducing each other. Milfs would be a good choice, but Jack felt that the algorithm would always then suggest stepmom porn, which he wasn't in to. He searched for amateur porn with Eastern Europeans, preferring their slender body shapes and lack of bad boob jobs. Jack sat up in his bed and pulled down his shorts, slowly stroking his cock to full, rigid life. He skipped the initial setup and forwarded it to the redhead pulling the guy's dick out. She grinned at the camera then kissed the man's purple head. Her tongue swirled around the tip before she quickly swallowed the man's cock. Jack shifted his weight as the redhead stripped off her top, revealing her decent-size tits. As the action turned to straight fucking with the twenty-something waitress bent over a park bench, Jack pumped his cock. He imagined himself there, in Prague, having hot, passionate sex in public. But then he felt cold. Looking up, there she was. Erin just appeared by the wall. She was confused and pressed the back of her head. It looked as if someone had just woken up, but in a different room than they were in before. She rolled her head around before stopping, and stared at Jack, her mouth agaip. He was illuminated by his laptop, so he knew that she could see what he was doing to himself. "Oh, fuck," Jack groaned, but he didn't stop stroking his cock. He thought she would float away, or scream, or do something, but Erin just stood there and watched. She even moved closer, standing at the edge of the bed. Her eyes focusing on his throbbing cock. Jack's heart was thumping as he frantically stroked his cock. His eyes darted back and forth from Erin to his laptop; the redhead had been replaced by a different model. She said that her name is Petra and is a med student, but what really turned Jack on was how Petra resembled Erin. Reddish-brown hair, slim body with perky tits, though she had tattoos and pierced nipples. His eyes bounced from Petra being fucked in a stall, to Erin's eager look. It was getting too much for him. His imagination then brought him to Prague again, but with Erin this time. He fucked her from behind, his cock pumping her hot, wet pussy, cupping her tits and making Erin groan in deep pleasure. Jack's balls were aching, then suddenly stopped, and he intensely climaxed. His tip exploded, and shot after shot of cum raced from his cock. Jack struggled to catch all his flying cum with a tissue. After cleaning himself, Jack and Erin exchanged looks. She was embarrassed, he could tell, staring at the ground and doing her most not to make eye contact. He wanted to say something, but Erin left the room. She didn't fade through the wall or vanish into anything, just walked away slowly. Jack then instantly fell asleep, not knowing what else to do.   A S ance. Jack opened the door, letting Lucy in. It was half two in the morning, and he was getting scared. A small sliver of thought wondered if she would let him down, or at least ask for $500 to proceed. For the s ance, Lucy had gone all gothic, wearing a black velvet dress and knee-high boots, also in black. She was carrying a large tote bag. There was panic in her eyes. She apologized for her lateness, saying that it took a while to get a cab. Jack was instructed by her, to get bundles of sage and wormwood for burning, plus ash. Lucy herself handled the weirder and harder to find items. She pulled out a knife that she called an athame, a ceremonial dagger Jack guessed. She also had a black bowl that she said is a water scry. It was going to help them talk to Erin. Jack led her to the kitchen and they quickly got ready. While she cut the sage and wormwood with the athame, speaking in Latin, Jack got the idea that this wasn't a con. It was real for her. That gave him hope. "So, where should we do this?" Jack asked, taking a steel bucket that she had handed him. "Your room." Lucy said, pulling more stuff out of her bag. "I've been thinking. You said you're the only one who saw her. And you normally see her in your bedroom, right? I think that's where she was murdered. By you sleeping there, a psychic link was created between you and Erin." Jack nodded. It made sense. They went to his bedroom; and with Lucy's help, he pushed his bed and everything else to one side, giving them space for the ritual. As they're going to make a fire, he opened the windows. Jack looked at the smoke alarms; if they go off, will his parents get an alert? Lucy got down on her knees and drew another circle on the floor, this time, a simple one without any other symbols. Jack lit the candles, twenty-four of them and placed them around the circle. Following her instructions, he then sat the bucket in the middle of the ring and lit the fire. Lucy took command of his bedside table and placed the porcelain bowl on top of it. She filled it with water from a special-looking bottle and dropped a crystal in it. "Take this and put it in the fire. Also, say her name in your head." Lucy said, handing him the sage and wormwood. Jack nodded and shuffled to the fire, trying not to drop the herbs. 'Erin, Erin, Erin,' he chanted in his head. He threw the herbs into the fire and was immediately overwhelmed by the aroma. It tasted sickly sweet, unnatural like. He then retreated behind Lucy; she was kneeling on the floor and speaking into the bowl. It sounded like Latin; Jack could make out the occasional word. She was calling out for Erin. The fire grew larger and smoke billowed from the bucket, looking like a volcano erupting. The smoke turned black, then blue and finally into grey. Jack took a step forward, in a trance, his mouth wide open and his hands trembling. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lucy with her eyes clenched shut and was now calling Erin's name. Her fingers dug into the table and she frantically said 'Erin' over and over. He saw the smoke begin to clear and a body appeared above the fire. Jack gasped. Erin! She looked stunned, her hand covering her face. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word, shocked. Color poured into her clothing, turning the transparent household dress into black. Her skin returned to its ivory color, while her hair became reddish-brown just as he saw ten years ago. Lucy had stopped chanting; she also was staring at Erin. She looked shocked, maybe a little scared. Lucy stood up and slowly shuffled towards Jack, resting a hand on his shoulder; but she kept her distance from Erin, using Jack as a possible human shield. Erin was just as surprised as the two of them. She reached out her arm, amazed by it. This was real. Erin moved forward but awkwardly stumbled as if she missed a step going downstairs. She then took a couple of more steps and touched the floor, a new sensation for her. Taking a deep breath, Erin became dazed with the menthol-like odor of burning sage. Her eyes lit up and a smile beamed from her face; she could smell. She then turned her head, focusing on the two, who had resurrected her. Her clogs banged against the wooden floor as she walked to Lucy. The psychic was trembling in her presence. Lucy flinched as she touched her arm. "Thank ye," Erin whispered. She then leaned in, and kissed the surprised blonde. Lucy moaned, instantly enjoying the kiss. Jack watched on, shocked. He didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on. Lucy wrapped her hands around Erin's waist and pushed herself against the resurrected maid. Overwhelmed by a sudden desire, Lucy slid her tongue deep into Erin's mouth. She felt good, but so tired. Erin then released the medium and watched as Lucy collapsed onto the floor in a deep sleep. She turned to Jack and grinned. "Erin?" Jack asked. His hands were trembling and he felt that he was going to sink into the floor. This is it, right? This was what he wanted, but he had no idea how to respond. "Is it really you?" He eventually spat out. "Hi, Jack," Erin smiled. "Fuck;" Jack said. He reached out and touched her hand with his. Wasn't this just supposed to be a s ance? "I can't believe I can touch you." "Me too," Erin said. "How are you?" Jack asked in a deeply sincere tone. "Confused. It felt I was being called by an unknown force. Then it took me." "I'm sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you." "I understand. Oh, it feels good to be heard and to speak with my own voice." "I need to tell you something," Jack said, "The reason we're talking is because I wanted to help you. But I never asked if you actually needed my help." She went quiet, looking like she was thinking something over, in her head. "You said about unfinished business. Bu

After more than two decades of living life at full speed, Jesinta and Lance “Buddy” Franklin have found a new rhythm. From AFL stadiums and global runways to slow mornings and school pick-ups on the Gold Coast, the couple have redefined what success looks like for them. In this episode, the Franklins open up to Stellar about life after football, preparing to welcome another child, and their new Manuka honey business, Honey For Life. They reflect on identity, purpose and why the sweetest chapter of their story is the one unfolding quietly, far from the spotlight. For more information on Jesinta and Lance’s new venture, visit honeyforlife.com.au Watch the full episode with Jesinta and Lance here. Something To Talk About is a podcast by Stellar, hosted by Sarrah Le Marquand Find more from Stellar via Instagram @stellarmag or stellarmag.com.auSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

What in the world is going on in Buffalo? The Bills have zero quality wins, defense is a mess, and Josh Allen is a shell of himself - is his marriage to blame? Do the Patriots have realistic Super Bowl aspirations? Craig gets philosophical on batters getting hit by pitches. And we've got some suggestions for James Franklins next gig - you don't want to miss this! All that, and more, on today's episode of The Craig Carton Show! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Cannabis comic and activist Ngaio Bealum is back on the podcast for our HALLOWEED episode, and he's bringing a pair of horror comedies. First, we've got maybe the ultimate Halloween movie with ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN (1948). This one has all the monsters--Lon Chaney, Jr. as THE WOLF MAN, Bela Lugosi is DRACULA, and Glenn Strange is the FRANKENSTEIN MONSTER. Plus you've got some mad scientist action, and they're all after Lou Costello's brain because he's even dumber than the monster. Thrill to Dracula hurling potted plants at the Wolf Man! There's also a Nor Cal/So Cal schism over Abbott and Costello that was a little unexpected. Find out how that one plays out as Bob and Ngaio tag team the Franklins here. Then, don't call it a comeback as VINCENT PRICE returns to kill a bunch of doctors in inventive and Biblical ways in THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971), a piece of art deco madness from the strange mind of director Robert Fuest (THE DEVIL'S RAIN). Bob's usual smooth intro melted down here as Ngaio accused him of spoiling the movie by basically rehashing the description copy from the back of the Bluray. You'll want to hear the conflict. And FIND OUT HOW YOU can WIN THE DR. PHIBES Bluray(!), and read that spoilery copy for yourself by listening to this episode! And if you email us at oldmoviesforyoungstoners@gmail.com and tell Bob how this episode is a STEALTH VINCENT PRICE DOUBLE FEATURE, you'll jump ahead in line! We will reward the people who actually read all this crap. Shhhh. And the episode kicks off with a usual amount of discussion or SUPERMAN vs. POPEYE + seeing the Tim Burton BATMAN at the Grand Lake in Oakland. Ngaio is old school when it comes to DC Comics canon BTW. Follow Ngaio at Ngaio420 on Instagram and other socials: https://www.instagram.com/ngaio420/ Hosts: Philena Franklin, Bob Calhoun, and Greg Franklin. Cory Sklar is on assignment. NEXT EPISODE: the Czar of Noir Eddie Muller joins us to talk NOIRVEMBER DAMES. Subscribe so you don't miss it. OMFYS Theme and "Vampire" by Chaki the Funk Wizard, used with permission. "A Fool's Theme" by Brian Boiler and "Happy Haunts" by Aaron Kenny courtesy of YouTube Audio Library. Sound effects courtesy of FreeSound.org: Rewind Stutter Analog Tape by Alex_hears_things -- https://freesound.org/s/812618/ -- License: Creative Commons 0 tape_slow2.wav by zerolagtime -- https://freesound.org/s/49239/ -- License: Attribution 4.0 TAPE36.WAV by dmooney -- https://freesound.org/s/2678/ -- License: Sampling+ Archival audio via Archive.org Web: www.oldmoviesforyoungstoners.com Instagram/Facebook (Meta): oldmoviesforyoungstoners Bluesky: @oldmoviesystoners.bsky.social Contact: oldmoviesforyoungstoners@gmail.com

In den 1990ern wurden bei der Renovierung von Benjamin Franklins Wohnhaus in der Craven Street in London über 1.000 menschliche Knochenreste gefunden. Sie alle stammen aus der Zeit, als der spätere Unterzeichner der amerikanischen Unabhängigkeitserklärung dort lebte. Wie kamen sie dort hin?

It's time to celebrate the 10th Anniversary of the Marriage Equality Act! We invited back Tammy and Kim Franklin, two of original plaintiffs in the Obergefell vs. Hodges to talk about their experiences and how their lives have changed.  The Franklins were one of six couples that brought this case to the Supreme Court in 2015. The Supreme Court ruled in favor of same sex marriages and that same sex marriages will be recognized nationwide.  In this bonus episode, Tammy and Kim share their experiences and growing concerns in this current political climate.  They walk us through how their lives have changed and how much work there still needs to be done. Show Notes: www.hotflashescooltopics.com YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@HotFlashesCoolTopics Find Us Here! Website I [http://hotflashescooltopics.com/] Mail I [hotflashescooltopics@gmail.com] Instagram I [https://www.instagram.com/hotflashesandcooltopics/] Facebook : [www.facebook.com/hotflashescooltopics] YouTube I [https://www.youtube.com/@HotFlashesCoolTopics] Pinterest I [https://www.pinterest.com/hcooltopics/] Want to Leave a Review for Hot Flashes and Cool Topics? Here's How: For Apple Podcasts on an iPhone or iOS device: Open the Apple Podcast App on your device. Click on the “search” icon Type into the search bar “Hot Flashes and Cool Topics” and click on the show Towards the bottom, look for “Ratings and Reviews” Click on “Write a Review” and leave us your thoughts and comments! For Apple Podcasts on a computer: On the Apple Podcasts website, go to the search bar and type “Hot Flashes and Cool Topics” After clicking on the show, find the “Listen on Apple Podcasts” button and click on it The “Hot Flashes and Cool Topics” podcast should open on the Apple Podcasts application Keep scrolling on the page until you see “Ratings and Reviews” Click on “See All” If you want to give us a five-star rating, hover over the empty stars! If you want to leave your thoughts and comments, click on “Write a Review”!

It's Black History Month y'all! Get it how you live it. In this final episode of Season 3, COVID and Chemo take another fond look at one Lionel Ritchie, aka “Lion-el” the icon on the purported “greatest night in pop.” We also must insist on an audit of the integration project after reviewing the tireless and united efforts of so many excellent Franklins, who used their powers to summon even a couple halting notes from these yt “superstars.” Ongoing questions include: 1) did Stevie reveal to us a secret true magical Negro spell for banishments? 2) Who is Kim Carnes? 3) Where is the demo tape? We broke, but we will pay good coins for it.

After the last glitch in episodes. we are back to our regularly scheduled program. Here are the notes for Episode 352: Oregon vs Penn State Keystone Predator The Simpson's Monday Night Football Macaulay Culkin Joe Burrow Ohio Senator is Soft HS Basketball Let it Rain! Dave Playing Basketball Luigi Mangillioni Ossassinations Back to the Future - The Musical DDP/Steve-O/Kevin Smith Don't Touch Our Boats! Make sure to check out our socials in the credits, our website, DefinitelyNotSellingDrugs.com, and hit up the My Show archives at BADFACTS.INFO and get that digital download going wherever you find podcasts. You can also find our video through Spotify, but you're here with us now, so... --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/myshowaj/support

This week's Deadpod features the second set from the band's performance at the Charlotte Coliseum in Charlotte, NC on October 10, 1989. A good example, I think, of why this was a high water mark in the band's performance history, this second set showcases their ability to improvise both in spots intended and unintended.  The latter I think, is shown in the opening 'Blow Away', which despite some forgotten lyrics and miscues turns into a fine opening number. The jamming in the 'Help>Slip>Frank', especially out of Franklins' and into a fine drums, is an example of some more expected, but nevertheless, successful creativity. Lastly I have to point out how good 'Not Fade Away is here.. far from being mailed in...   Grateful Dead Charlotte Coliseum Charlotte, NC 10/22/1989 - Sunday Two      Blow Away [10:00] Samson And Delilah [6:20] Help On The Way [3:44] > Slipknot! [6:33] > Franklin's Tower [9:40] > Jam [7:#17] > Drums [5:55] > Space [8:43] > I Need A Miracle [4:04] > Stella Blue [8:36] > Throwing Stones [9:11] > Not Fade Away [7:51#] Encore      Black Muddy River [5:53]   You can listen to this week's Deadpod here: http://traffic.libsyn.com/deadshow/deadpod102524.mp3  Again, thanks for your well wishes and patience with my (typing) brevity!

Original Air Date: January 28, 1949Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Brace Beemer (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

Original Air Date: January 28, 1949Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Brace Beemer (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

With both Franklins on assignment, cannabis comic Ngaio Bealum and Instagram movie reviewer Ajax Green (@leonard_malted) join us for an exploration of voyeurism in film. First, we've got the ultimate voyeuristic spectacle with Alfred Hitchcock's masterpiece REAR WINDOW (1954), the first work from the Master of Suspense we've featured on this show, and we've only been at it for nearly three years now. What is up with that??? Jimmy Stewart J.B. "Jeff" Jeffries, a news photographer whose broken leg has left him nothing to do but stare out the back window of his Greenwich Village apartment into all the apartments of his neighbors. He gets so obsessed by the idea that one of these neighbors, Lars Thorwald (Raymond Burr) murdered his wife, that Jeff won't even make out with his way-too-young fashionista girlfriend, Lisa Fremont (Grade Kelly), vexing Ajax to no end. Fortunately for Jeff and Lisa's relationship, she cannot resist the pull of true crime, and soon becomes just as obsessed with her man's suspicions as he is. With immaculate wardrobe by Edith Head and a whole New York block recreated on a Paramount soundstage. Possibly the greatest film from the greatest director. REAR WINDOW is part of Criterion Channel's "Photographer's Gaze" series. For our second feature, we go all the way to Egypt for director Youssef Chahine's CAIRO STATION (1958) where the director plays Qinawi, a handicapped newspaper vendor who becomes obsessed with Hanuma (Hind Rustum--the Marilyn Monroe of the Middle East), a voluptuous beauty who makes her living by selling cold soft drinks to thirsty travelers without a permit. After being rejected by Hanuma, Qinawi soon takes inspiration from sensationalist news stories telling of a serial killer who chops up women and leaves their remains in trunks. Reviled by Egyptian audiences and critics when it was originally released but now considered a classic, it is filmed in a neorealist style that captures the sweat and dust of the Cairo Station of its time. Also look out for a surprise rockin' musical number. CAIRO STATION is part of Criterion Channel's Youssef Chahine series. We should've titled this episode "MALE GAZE" because Bob goes into way too much detail about Grace Kelly's sex life, Ngaio talks about his love of titties in movies, and Ajax wishes these films had higher body counts. It's a good thing we're doing FEMINIST WESTERNS for our next episode. Ajax, Ngaio, Cory and Bob also discuss the MEGALOPOLIS AI critic quote debacle, and Ngaio gives us an EMERALD CUP update. You can find Ajax on Insta @leonard_malted. You can find Ngaio on X, Insta, and probably every where else at ngaio420. Hosts: Cory Sklar and Bob Calhoun Philena Franklin and her dad Greg are on assignment. OMFYS theme by Chaki the Funk Wizard used with permission "Science Montage" by Jeremy Blake and "Lazy Laura" by Quincy's Moreira courtesy of YouTube Audio Library Web: www.oldmoviesforyoungstoners.com Instagram/Facebook (Meta): oldmoviesforyoungstoners Bluesky: @oldmoviesystoners.bsky.social Twitter (X): @OM4YStoners Contact: oldmoviesforyoungstoners AT gmail DOT com NEXT EPISODE: FEMINIST WESTERNS with JOHNNY GUITAR (1954) and FORTY GUNS (1957) with the return of PHILENA FRANKLIN and AUDRA WOLFMAN.

Links:Franklin ball sale: https://bit.ly/3VZlP4QProton interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8tXdo8kTaU&ab_channel=PickleballCentralTimestamps:0:00 - Intro0:24 - Melin update1:35 - 100 pack of Franklins for $129 (ending soon)3:26 - Proton updates24:20 - Slyce Speed Cap update28:04 - KTCHN bag update32:10 - Should we uncap spin in Pickleball?43:05 - Beer City Open & MLP storiesChris Socials:Instagram: https://bit.ly/3GO6s5OFacebook: https://bit.ly/3x5pRMAWill Socials:YouTube: https://bit.ly/3znyPHSInstagram: https://bit.ly/3H1qriN

Links:MKBHD interview 1MKBHD Interview 2MKBHD on bad reviewsTimestamps:0:00 - Intro4:16 - Quick Update on the Gen 3 Joola's9:00 - Will's Texas trip14:14 - The PKOLL Paddle15:39 - Chorus Shapeshifter18:00 - Vatic Oni20:09 - Franklins new paddle22:26 - PPA update25:33 - The Ethics of Reviewing Paddles and Our Stances38:26 - How Do We Chose What Paddles to Review?tt52:09 - Have Companies Ever Offered Us Money?58:12 - Are We Ever Worried About Giving a Bad Review?1:03:00 - Chris' Personal Ethics And Views1:12:10 - When Is It Considered Sandbagging?Chris Socials:Instagram: https://bit.ly/3GO6s5OFacebook: https://bit.ly/3x5pRMAWill Socials:YouTube: https://bit.ly/3znyPHSInstagram: https://bit.ly/3H1qriN

Mike and Elliott drag themselves in front of the mic to chat about a crushing loss away at Northampton, a defeat that may spell the end of Tigers' playoff hopes.  As always, we try to find some reason and some positives in the performance, before picking ourselves back up to have a chat to old mate Joe Heyes and to get behind the boys ahead of a tasty fixture at Welford Road against a red-hot Bears side.

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/native-american-studies

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/geography

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/science-technology-and-society

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/australian-and-new-zealand-studies

In 1845 an expedition led by Sir John Franklin vanished in the Canadian Arctic. The enduring obsession with the Franklin mystery, and in particular Inuit information about its fate, is partly due to the ways in which information was circulated in these imperial spaces. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge: The Franklin Family, Indigenous Intermediaries, and the Politics of Truth (Bloomsbury, 2024) by Dr. Annaliese Jacobs Claydon examines how the Franklins and other explorer families engaged in science, exploration and the exchange of information in the early to mid-19th century. It follows the Franklins from the Arctic to Van Diemen's Land, charting how they worked with intermediaries, imperial humanitarians and scientists, and shows how they used these experiences to claim a moral right to information. Arctic Circles and Imperial Knowledge shows how the indigenous peoples, translators, fur traders, whalers, convicts and sailors who explorer families relied upon for information were both indispensable and inconvenient to the Franklins. It reveals a deep entanglement of polar expedition with British imperialism, and shows how geographical knowledge intertwined with convict policy, humanitarianism, genocide and authority. In these imperial spaces families such as the Franklins negotiated their tenuous authority over knowledge to engage with the politics of truth and question the credibility and trustworthiness of those they sought to silence. This interview was conducted by Dr. Miranda Melcher whose forthcoming book focuses on post-conflict military integration, understanding treaty negotiation and implementation in civil war contexts, with qualitative analysis of the Angolan and Mozambican civil wars. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/british-studies

I'm glad you liked the description. I apologize for the mistake about Mehrshad. I will correct that and add more hashtags related to Austin and podcasts. Here is the updated description: ``` Welcome to another episode of Tea With Rami, where Rami and his guests have candid conversations about various topics over a cup of tea. In this episode, Rami is joined by his friend Mehrshad, who is also an Austin resident and a lover of podcasts. They talk about how Austin has changed over the years, and how they feel about the city they love. They start by sharing their favorite places to eat in Austin, such as Franklins and Stubbs, which are famous for their BBQ. They also mention some of the food trucks that offer diverse and delicious cuisines. They then move on to talk about the iconic places that make Austin special, such as Zilker Park, Barton Springs, and the Capitol. They recall some of the fun and memorable experiences they had at these places, and how they reflect the culture and spirit of Austin. They also discuss the music scene in Austin, which is known as the Live Music Capital of the World. They talk about some of the artists and genres that they enjoy, and how music is an integral part of Austin's identity. They also pay tribute to Austin legend Willie Nelson, who is a symbol of the city's musical heritage and influence. They then switch to talk about the challenges that Austin faces, such as traffic, gentrification, and loss of friendliness. They share their frustrations and concerns about the congestion on IH 35, which is one of the worst highways in the country. They also talk about the impact of Elon Musk's presence in Austin, and his plans to build tunnels to ease the traffic problem. They wonder if this will be a good or bad thing for Austin, and how it will affect the environment and the community. They also talk about how Austin is becoming more expensive and less diverse, as more people and businesses move in from other states. They worry that this will change the character and vibe of Austin, and make it less welcoming and friendly. They also express their support for Austin FC, the city's first professional soccer team, which they hope will bring more unity and excitement to Austin. Despite the changes, they still love Austin for its food trucks, music, and BBQ. They agree that Austin is still an amazing city, with a lot of potential and opportunities. They end the conversation by thanking each other and the viewers for watching, and inviting them to share their thoughts on Austin in the comments. If you enjoyed this video, please give it a thumbs up and subscribe to Talk2Rami for more episodes of Tea With Rami. Let us know in the comments what you think about Austin and how it has changed over the years. Thank you for watching and stay tuned for the next episode of Tea With Rami. #TeaWithRami #Austin #Talk2Rami #Podcast #BBQ #Music #ElonMusk #WillieNelson #AustinFC

We're back with another fun one. We open discussing the Marvels hitting Disney+ and the upcoming 13 Ghosts series. We break down the Greatest Night in Pop an Franklins upcoming Peanuts special. DC is bringing back stop and frisk among other tough on crime initiatives. Ferg gives a review on Mr and Mrs Smith on Prime Video. We get into the questions and Razi wants to know would we move back to a small city and would our kids enjoy it. Buff gives us 3 examples of women in DC getting a $10,000 windfall and we critique how they used their money. We close shouting out the Hoover GEMS program, trying to figure out how Joe Biden is doing so poorly in the polls, and screaming Happy Birthday to Buff!!! Enjoy. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/threebrothersnosense/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/threebrothersnosense/support

Join Troy Gramling as he speaks with successful Youtuber Franklin Seeber as he talks about how he got to where he is in his Youtube careerWant to Check out Franklins channel? Click the link below for Rawwfishing content!https://www.youtube.com/ @RAWWFishing 

Join Troy Gramling as he speaks with successful Youtuber Franklin Seeber as he talks about how he got to where he is in his Youtube careerWant to Check out Franklins channel? Click the link below for Rawwfishing content!https://www.youtube.com/ @RAWWFishing 

While we steadfast in that there's no new evidence (that's real) in terms of the Connor Stalions operation, the University of Michigan decided to stop fighting back, pulling back the litigation, accepting the Jim Harbaugh suspension, and cutting a deal with the Big Ten. Given what we know, it makes little to no sense, and many of our colleagues (and sources) are flabbergasted by it. We try to make sense of it all and where Michigan football goes from here with Harbaugh out for the next two weeks.Support Us By Supporting Our Sponsors!LinkedInLinkedIn Jobs helps you find the qualified candidates you want to talk to, faster. Post your job for free at LinkedIn.com/LOCKEDONCOLLEGE. Terms and conditions apply.eBay MotorsWith all the parts you need at the prices you want, it's easy to turn your car into the MVP and bring home that win. Keep your ride-or-die alive at EbayMotors.com. Eligible items only. Exclusions apply. eBay Guaranteed Fit only available to US customers.Athletic BrewingGo to AthleticBrewing.com and enter code LOCKEDON to get 15% off your first online order or find a store near you! Athletic Brewing. Milford, CT and San Diego, CA. Near Beer.PrizePicksGo to PrizePicks.com/lockedoncollege and use code lockedoncollege for a first deposit match up to $100! Daily Fantasy Sports Made Easy!GametimeDownload the Gametime app, create an account, and use code LOCKEDONCOLLEGE for $20 off your first purchase.FanDuelScore early this NFL season with FanDuel, America's Number One Sportsbook! Right now, NEW customers get ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS in BONUS BETS with any winning FIVE DOLLAR MONEYLINE BET! That's A HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS – if your team wins! Visit FanDuel.com/LOCKEDON to get started.FANDUEL DISCLAIMER: 21+ in select states. First online real money wager only. Bonus issued as nonwithdrawable free bets that expires in 14 days. Restrictions apply. See terms at sportsbook.fanduel.com. Gambling Problem? Call 1-800-GAMBLER or visit FanDuel.com/RG (CO, IA, MD, MI, NJ, PA, IL, VA, WV), 1-800-NEXT-STEP or text NEXTSTEP to 53342 (AZ), 1-888-789-7777 or visit ccpg.org/chat (CT), 1-800-9-WITH-IT (IN), 1-800-522-4700 (WY, KS) or visit ksgamblinghelp.com (KS), 1-877-770-STOP (LA), 1-877-8-HOPENY or text HOPENY (467369) (NY), TN REDLINE 1-800-889-9789 (TN) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

While we steadfast in that there's no new evidence (that's real) in terms of the Connor Stalions operation, the University of Michigan decided to stop fighting back, pulling back the litigation, accepting the Jim Harbaugh suspension, and cutting a deal with the Big Ten. Given what we know, it makes little to no sense, and many of our colleagues (and sources) are flabbergasted by it. We try to make sense of it all and where Michigan football goes from here with Harbaugh out for the next two weeks. Support Us By Supporting Our Sponsors! LinkedIn LinkedIn Jobs helps you find the qualified candidates you want to talk to, faster. Post your job for free at LinkedIn.com/LOCKEDONCOLLEGE. Terms and conditions apply. eBay Motors With all the parts you need at the prices you want, it's easy to turn your car into the MVP and bring home that win. Keep your ride-or-die alive at EbayMotors.com. Eligible items only. Exclusions apply. eBay Guaranteed Fit only available to US customers. Athletic Brewing Go to AthleticBrewing.com and enter code LOCKEDON to get 15% off your first online order or find a store near you! Athletic Brewing. Milford, CT and San Diego, CA. Near Beer. PrizePicks Go to PrizePicks.com/lockedoncollege and use code lockedoncollege for a first deposit match up to $100! Daily Fantasy Sports Made Easy! Gametime Download the Gametime app, create an account, and use code LOCKEDONCOLLEGE for $20 off your first purchase. FanDuel Score early this NFL season with FanDuel, America's Number One Sportsbook! Right now, NEW customers get ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS in BONUS BETS with any winning FIVE DOLLAR MONEYLINE BET! That's A HUNDRED AND FIFTY BUCKS – if your team wins! Visit FanDuel.com/LOCKEDON to get started. FANDUEL DISCLAIMER: 21+ in select states. First online real money wager only. Bonus issued as nonwithdrawable free bets that expires in 14 days. Restrictions apply. See terms at sportsbook.fanduel.com. Gambling Problem? Call 1-800-GAMBLER or visit FanDuel.com/RG (CO, IA, MD, MI, NJ, PA, IL, VA, WV), 1-800-NEXT-STEP or text NEXTSTEP to 53342 (AZ), 1-888-789-7777 or visit ccpg.org/chat (CT), 1-800-9-WITH-IT (IN), 1-800-522-4700 (WY, KS) or visit ksgamblinghelp.com (KS), 1-877-770-STOP (LA), 1-877-8-HOPENY or text HOPENY (467369) (NY), TN REDLINE 1-800-889-9789 (TN) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

“Imitate Jesus and Socrates.” - Benjamin Franklin Are you as struck by Franklin's recommendation as I am? Why both? If you're going to include Jesus on any list, there really isn't any need to include anyone else. It was curious to me what Franklin might have been thinking that would lead him to include these two people specifically, and only these two people. Perhaps it was this prompting from a personal friend of Franklin's: "My list of virtues continued at first but twelve; but a Quaker friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought proud, that my pride showed itself frequently in conversation, that I was not content with being in the right when discussing any point, but was overbearing and rather insolent, of which he convinced me by mentioning several instances, I determined endeavoring to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly among the rest, and I added Humility to my list, giving an extensive meaning to the word." Humility is "a modest or low view of one's own importance." It may well be that you are important, or the best, but humility moderates a balanced view of how you should view yourself. God opposes the proud just as all others are repulsed by them. Read the transcript for Benjamin Franklin's 13 Virtues - Humility Sign up for the Wisdom In All Things weekly email

Fasten your seatbelts, folks, because this week, The Virgos take it there.  First up, Halle Bailey's been spotted with what might be a baby bump — but is it just a burrito lunch? Ryan and Joyhdae have some ideas  Then, dive into the pages of Britney Spears' tell-all where she dishes on a past pregnancy with none other than Mr. ‘Cry Me A River', Justin Timberlake. Speaking of money rivers, Cedrick The Entertainer pulled the plug on a 25K family fund — was it a comedy error? And Jay Z, billionaire extraordinaire, apparently doesn't think his cousin is worth 4800 bucks. We're just here wondering if that's before or after tax.  But wait, there's more! Sidney Powell's recent college kerfuffle led to a shocking turn of events as The Virgos dip their toes into a little bit of true crime. And in ‘beggars can't be choosy' news, Yung Joc might've just turned down a quarter million because of… ‘lustful eyes'?Stay tuned for laughs, gasps, and perhaps an out of pocket joke or two!

Finally Keefe D is arrested in in connection to the murder of 2pac Shakur after almost 30 years. Kirk Franklins mother lies about real father rather than take accountability. and finally this weeks red pill conversation. should successful men seriously date single mothers?

Episode 168 of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “I Say a Little Prayer”, and the interaction of the sacred, political, and secular in Aretha Franklin's life and work. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a forty-five-minute bonus episode available, on "Abraham, Martin, and John" by Dion. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt's irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Resources No Mixcloud this week, as there are too many songs by Aretha Franklin. Even splitting it into multiple parts would have required six or seven mixes. My main biographical source for Aretha Franklin is Respect: The Life of Aretha Franklin by David Ritz, and this is where most of the quotes from musicians come from. Information on C.L. Franklin came from Singing in a Strange Land: C. L. Franklin, the Black Church, and the Transformation of America by Nick Salvatore. Country Soul by Charles L Hughes is a great overview of the soul music made in Muscle Shoals, Memphis, and Nashville in the sixties. Peter Guralnick's Sweet Soul Music: Rhythm And Blues And The Southern Dream Of Freedom is possibly less essential, but still definitely worth reading. Information about Martin Luther King came from Martin Luther King: A Religious Life by Paul Harvey. I also referred to Burt Bacharach's autobiography Anyone Who Had a Heart, Carole King's autobiography A Natural Woman, and Soul Serenade: King Curtis and his Immortal Saxophone by Timothy R. Hoover. For information about Amazing Grace I also used Aaron Cohen's 33 1/3 book on the album. The film of the concerts is also definitely worth watching. And the Aretha Now album is available in this five-album box set for a ludicrously cheap price. But it's actually worth getting this nineteen-CD set with her first sixteen Atlantic albums and a couple of bonus discs of demos and outtakes. There's barely a duff track in the whole nineteen discs. Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them? Transcript A quick warning before I begin. This episode contains some moderate references to domestic abuse, death by cancer, racial violence, police violence, and political assassination. Anyone who might be upset by those subjects might want to check the transcript rather than listening to the episode. Also, as with the previous episode on Aretha Franklin, this episode presents something of a problem. Like many people in this narrative, Franklin's career was affected by personal troubles, which shaped many of her decisions. But where most of the subjects of the podcast have chosen to live their lives in public and share intimate details of every aspect of their personal lives, Franklin was an extremely private person, who chose to share only carefully sanitised versions of her life, and tried as far as possible to keep things to herself. This of course presents a dilemma for anyone who wants to tell her story -- because even though the information is out there in biographies, and even though she's dead, it's not right to disrespect someone's wish for a private life. I have therefore tried, wherever possible, to stay away from talk of her personal life except where it *absolutely* affects the work, or where other people involved have publicly shared their own stories, and even there I've tried to keep it to a minimum. This will occasionally lead to me saying less about some topics than other people might, even though the information is easily findable, because I don't think we have an absolute right to invade someone else's privacy for entertainment. When we left Aretha Franklin, she had just finally broken through into the mainstream after a decade of performing, with a version of Otis Redding's song "Respect" on which she had been backed by her sisters, Erma and Carolyn. "Respect", in Franklin's interpretation, had been turned from a rather chauvinist song about a man demanding respect from his woman into an anthem of feminism, of Black power, and of a new political awakening. For white people of a certain generation, the summer of 1967 was "the summer of love". For many Black people, it was rather different. There's a quote that goes around (I've seen it credited in reliable sources to both Ebony and Jet magazine, but not ever seen an issue cited, so I can't say for sure where it came from) saying that the summer of 67 was the summer of "'retha, Rap, and revolt", referring to the trifecta of Aretha Franklin, the Black power leader Jamil Abdullah al-Amin (who was at the time known as H. Rap Brown, a name he later disclaimed) and the rioting that broke out in several major cities, particularly in Detroit: [Excerpt: John Lee Hooker, "The Motor City is Burning"] The mid sixties were, in many ways, the high point not of Black rights in the US -- for the most part there has been a lot of progress in civil rights in the intervening decades, though not without inevitable setbacks and attacks from the far right, and as movements like the Black Lives Matter movement have shown there is still a long way to go -- but of *hope* for Black rights. The moral force of the arguments made by the civil rights movement were starting to cause real change to happen for Black people in the US for the first time since the Reconstruction nearly a century before. But those changes weren't happening fast enough, and as we heard in the episode on "I Was Made to Love Her", there was not only a growing unrest among Black people, but a recognition that it was actually possible for things to change. A combination of hope and frustration can be a powerful catalyst, and whether Franklin wanted it or not, she was at the centre of things, both because of her newfound prominence as a star with a hit single that couldn't be interpreted as anything other than a political statement and because of her intimate family connections to the struggle. Even the most racist of white people these days pays lip service to the memory of Dr Martin Luther King, and when they do they quote just a handful of sentences from one speech King made in 1963, as if that sums up the full theological and political philosophy of that most complex of men. And as we discussed the last time we looked at Aretha Franklin, King gave versions of that speech, the "I Have a Dream" speech, twice. The most famous version was at the March on Washington, but the first time was a few weeks earlier, at what was at the time the largest civil rights demonstration in American history, in Detroit. Aretha's family connection to that event is made clear by the very opening of King's speech: [Excerpt: Martin Luther King, "Original 'I Have a Dream' Speech"] So as summer 1967 got into swing, and white rock music was going to San Francisco to wear flowers in its hair, Aretha Franklin was at the centre of a very different kind of youth revolution. Franklin's second Atlantic album, Aretha Arrives, brought in some new personnel to the team that had recorded Aretha's first album for Atlantic. Along with the core Muscle Shoals players Jimmy Johnson, Spooner Oldham, Tommy Cogbill and Roger Hawkins, and a horn section led by King Curtis, Wexler and Dowd also brought in guitarist Joe South. South was a white session player from Georgia, who had had a few minor hits himself in the fifties -- he'd got his start recording a cover version of "The Purple People Eater Meets the Witch Doctor", the Big Bopper's B-side to "Chantilly Lace": [Excerpt: Joe South, "The Purple People Eater Meets the Witch Doctor"] He'd also written a few songs that had been recorded by people like Gene Vincent, but he'd mostly become a session player. He'd become a favourite musician of Bob Johnston's, and so he'd played guitar on Simon and Garfunkel's Sounds of Silence and Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme albums: [Excerpt: Simon and Garfunkel, "I am a Rock"] and bass on Bob Dylan's Blonde on Blonde, with Al Kooper particularly praising his playing on "Visions of Johanna": [Excerpt: Bob Dylan, "Visions of Johanna"] South would be the principal guitarist on this and Franklin's next album, before his own career took off in 1968 with "Games People Play": [Excerpt: Joe South, "Games People Play"] At this point, he had already written the other song he's best known for, "Hush", which later became a hit for Deep Purple: [Excerpt: Deep Purple, "Hush"] But he wasn't very well known, and was surprised to get the call for the Aretha Franklin session, especially because, as he put it "I was white and I was about to play behind the blackest genius since Ray Charles" But Jerry Wexler had told him that Franklin didn't care about the race of the musicians she played with, and South settled in as soon as Franklin smiled at him when he played a good guitar lick on her version of the blues standard "Going Down Slow": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Going Down Slow"] That was one of the few times Franklin smiled in those sessions though. Becoming an overnight success after years of trying and failing to make a name for herself had been a disorienting experience, and on top of that things weren't going well in her personal life. Her marriage to her manager Ted White was falling apart, and she was performing erratically thanks to the stress. In particular, at a gig in Georgia she had fallen off the stage and broken her arm. She soon returned to performing, but it meant she had problems with her right arm during the recording of the album, and didn't play as much piano as she would have previously -- on some of the faster songs she played only with her left hand. But the recording sessions had to go on, whether or not Aretha was physically capable of playing piano. As we discussed in the episode on Otis Redding, the owners of Atlantic Records were busily negotiating its sale to Warner Brothers in mid-1967. As Wexler said later “Everything in me said, Keep rolling, keep recording, keep the hits coming. She was red hot and I had no reason to believe that the streak wouldn't continue. I knew that it would be foolish—and even irresponsible—not to strike when the iron was hot. I also had personal motivation. A Wall Street financier had agreed to see what we could get for Atlantic Records. While Ahmet and Neshui had not agreed on a selling price, they had gone along with my plan to let the financier test our worth on the open market. I was always eager to pump out hits, but at this moment I was on overdrive. In this instance, I had a good partner in Ted White, who felt the same. He wanted as much product out there as possible." In truth, you can tell from Aretha Arrives that it's a record that was being thought of as "product" rather than one being made out of any kind of artistic impulse. It's a fine album -- in her ten-album run from I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You through Amazing Grace there's not a bad album and barely a bad track -- but there's a lack of focus. There are only two originals on the album, neither of them written by Franklin herself, and the rest is an incoherent set of songs that show the tension between Franklin and her producers at Atlantic. Several songs are the kind of standards that Franklin had recorded for her old label Columbia, things like "You Are My Sunshine", or her version of "That's Life", which had been a hit for Frank Sinatra the previous year: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "That's Life"] But mixed in with that are songs that are clearly the choice of Wexler. As we've discussed previously in episodes on Otis Redding and Wilson Pickett, at this point Atlantic had the idea that it was possible for soul artists to cross over into the white market by doing cover versions of white rock hits -- and indeed they'd had some success with that tactic. So while Franklin was suggesting Sinatra covers, Atlantic's hand is visible in the choices of songs like "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" and "96 Tears": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "96 Tears'] Of the two originals on the album, one, the hit single "Baby I Love You" was written by Ronnie Shannon, the Detroit songwriter who had previously written "I Never Loved a Man (the Way I Love You)": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Baby I Love You"] As with the previous album, and several other songs on this one, that had backing vocals by Aretha's sisters, Erma and Carolyn. But the other original on the album, "Ain't Nobody (Gonna Turn Me Around)", didn't, even though it was written by Carolyn: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Ain't Nobody (Gonna Turn Me Around)"] To explain why, let's take a little detour and look at the co-writer of the song this episode is about, though we're not going to get to that for a little while yet. We've not talked much about Burt Bacharach in this series so far, but he's one of those figures who has come up a few times in the periphery and will come up again, so here is as good a time as any to discuss him, and bring everyone up to speed about his career up to 1967. Bacharach was one of the more privileged figures in the sixties pop music field. His father, Bert Bacharach (pronounced the same as his son, but spelled with an e rather than a u) had been a famous newspaper columnist, and his parents had bought him a Steinway grand piano to practice on -- they pushed him to learn the piano even though as a kid he wasn't interested in finger exercises and Debussy. What he was interested in, though, was jazz, and as a teenager he would often go into Manhattan and use a fake ID to see people like Dizzy Gillespie, who he idolised, and in his autobiography he talks rapturously of seeing Gillespie playing his bent trumpet -- he once saw Gillespie standing on a street corner with a pet monkey on his shoulder, and went home and tried to persuade his parents to buy him a monkey too. In particular, he talks about seeing the Count Basie band with Sonny Payne on drums as a teenager: [Excerpt: Count Basie, "Kid From Red Bank"] He saw them at Birdland, the club owned by Morris Levy where they would regularly play, and said of the performance "they were just so incredibly exciting that all of a sudden, I got into music in a way I never had before. What I heard in those clubs really turned my head around— it was like a big breath of fresh air when somebody throws open a window. That was when I knew for the first time how much I loved music and wanted to be connected to it in some way." Of course, there's a rather major problem with this story, as there is so often with narratives that musicians tell about their early career. In this case, Birdland didn't open until 1949, when Bacharach was twenty-one and stationed in Germany for his military service, while Sonny Payne didn't join Basie's band until 1954, when Bacharach had been a professional musician for many years. Also Dizzy Gillespie's trumpet bell only got bent on January 6, 1953. But presumably while Bacharach was conflating several memories, he did have some experience in some New York jazz club that led him to want to become a musician. Certainly there were enough great jazz musicians playing the clubs in those days. He went to McGill University to study music for two years, then went to study with Darius Milhaud, a hugely respected modernist composer. Milhaud was also one of the most important music teachers of the time -- among others he'd taught Stockhausen and Xenakkis, and would go on to teach Philip Glass and Steve Reich. This suited Bacharach, who by this point was a big fan of Schoenberg and Webern, and was trying to write atonal, difficult music. But Milhaud had also taught Dave Brubeck, and when Bacharach rather shamefacedly presented him with a composition which had an actual tune, he told Bacharach "Never be ashamed of writing a tune you can whistle". He dropped out of university and, like most men of his generation, had to serve in the armed forces. When he got out of the army, he continued his musical studies, still trying to learn to be an avant-garde composer, this time with Bohuslav Martinů and later with Henry Cowell, the experimental composer we've heard about quite a bit in previous episodes: [Excerpt: Henry Cowell, "Aeolian Harp and Sinister Resonance"] He was still listening to a lot of avant garde music, and would continue doing so throughout the fifties, going to see people like John Cage. But he spent much of that time working in music that was very different from the avant-garde. He got a job as the band leader for the crooner Vic Damone: [Excerpt: Vic Damone. "Ebb Tide"] He also played for the vocal group the Ames Brothers. He decided while he was working with the Ames Brothers that he could write better material than they were getting from their publishers, and that it would be better to have a job where he didn't have to travel, so he got himself a job as a staff songwriter in the Brill Building. He wrote a string of flops and nearly hits, starting with "Keep Me In Mind" for Patti Page: [Excerpt: Patti Page, "Keep Me In Mind"] From early in his career he worked with the lyricist Hal David, and the two of them together wrote two big hits, "Magic Moments" for Perry Como: [Excerpt: Perry Como, "Magic Moments"] and "The Story of My Life" for Marty Robbins: [Excerpt: "The Story of My Life"] But at that point Bacharach was still also writing with other writers, notably Hal David's brother Mack, with whom he wrote the theme tune to the film The Blob, as performed by The Five Blobs: [Excerpt: The Five Blobs, "The Blob"] But Bacharach's songwriting career wasn't taking off, and he got himself a job as musical director for Marlene Dietrich -- a job he kept even after it did start to take off.  Part of the problem was that he intuitively wrote music that didn't quite fit into standard structures -- there would be odd bars of unusual time signatures thrown in, unusual harmonies, and structural irregularities -- but then he'd take feedback from publishers and producers who would tell him the song could only be recorded if he straightened it out. He said later "The truth is that I ruined a lot of songs by not believing in myself enough to tell these guys they were wrong." He started writing songs for Scepter Records, usually with Hal David, but also with Bob Hilliard and Mack David, and started having R&B hits. One song he wrote with Mack David, "I'll Cherish You", had the lyrics rewritten by Luther Dixon to make them more harsh-sounding for a Shirelles single -- but the single was otherwise just Bacharach's demo with the vocals replaced, and you can even hear his voice briefly at the beginning: [Excerpt: The Shirelles, "Baby, It's You"] But he'd also started becoming interested in the production side of records more generally. He'd iced that some producers, when recording his songs, would change the sound for the worse -- he thought Gene McDaniels' version of "Tower of Strength", for example, was too fast. But on the other hand, other producers got a better sound than he'd heard in his head. He and Hilliard had written a song called "Please Stay", which they'd given to Leiber and Stoller to record with the Drifters, and he thought that their arrangement of the song was much better than the one he'd originally thought up: [Excerpt: The Drifters, "Please Stay"] He asked Leiber and Stoller if he could attend all their New York sessions and learn about record production from them. He started doing so, and eventually they started asking him to assist them on records. He and Hilliard wrote a song called "Mexican Divorce" for the Drifters, which Leiber and Stoller were going to produce, and as he put it "they were so busy running Redbird Records that they asked me to rehearse the background singers for them in my office." [Excerpt: The Drifters, "Mexican Divorce"] The backing singers who had been brought in to augment the Drifters on that record were a group of vocalists who had started out as members of a gospel group called the Drinkard singers: [Excerpt: The Drinkard Singers, "Singing in My Soul"] The Drinkard Singers had originally been a family group, whose members included Cissy Drinkard, who joined the group aged five (and who on her marriage would become known as Cissy Houston -- her daughter Whitney would later join the family business), her aunt Lee Warrick, and Warrick's adopted daughter Judy Clay. That group were discovered by the great gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, and spent much of the fifties performing with gospel greats including Jackson herself, Clara Ward, and Sister Rosetta Tharpe. But Houston was also the musical director of a group at her church, the Gospelaires, which featured Lee Warrick's two daughters Dionne and Dee Dee Warwick (for those who don't know, the Warwick sisters' birth name was Warrick, spelled with two rs. A printing error led to it being misspelled the same way as the British city on a record label, and from that point on Dionne at least pronounced the w in her misspelled name). And slowly, the Gospelaires rather than the Drinkard Singers became the focus, with a lineup of Houston, the Warwick sisters, the Warwick sisters' cousin Doris Troy, and Clay's sister Sylvia Shemwell. The real change in the group's fortunes came when, as we talked about a while back in the episode on "The Loco-Motion", the original lineup of the Cookies largely stopped working as session singers to become Ray Charles' Raelettes. As we discussed in that episode, a new lineup of Cookies formed in 1961, but it took a while for them to get started, and in the meantime the producers who had been relying on them for backing vocals were looking elsewhere, and they looked to the Gospelaires. "Mexican Divorce" was the first record to feature the group as backing vocalists -- though reports vary as to how many of them are on the record, with some saying it's only Troy and the Warwicks, others saying Houston was there, and yet others saying it was all five of them. Some of these discrepancies were because these singers were so good that many of them left to become solo singers in fairly short order. Troy was the first to do so, with her hit "Just One Look", on which the other Gospelaires sang backing vocals: [Excerpt: Doris Troy, "Just One Look"] But the next one to go solo was Dionne Warwick, and that was because she'd started working with Bacharach and Hal David as their principal demo singer. She started singing lead on their demos, and hoping that she'd get to release them on her own. One early one was "Make it Easy On Yourself", which was recorded by Jerry Butler, formerly of the Impressions. That record was produced by Bacharach, one of the first records he produced without outside supervision: [Excerpt: Jerry Butler, "Make it Easy On Yourself"] Warwick was very jealous that a song she'd sung the demo of had become a massive hit for someone else, and blamed Bacharach and David. The way she tells the story -- Bacharach always claimed this never happened, but as we've already seen he was himself not always the most reliable of narrators of his own life -- she got so angry she complained to them, and said "Don't make me over, man!" And so Bacharach and David wrote her this: [Excerpt: Dionne Warwick, "Don't Make Me Over"] Incidentally, in the UK, the hit version of that was a cover by the Swinging Blue Jeans: [Excerpt: The Swinging Blue Jeans, "Don't Make Me Over"] who also had a huge hit with "You're No Good": [Excerpt: The Swinging Blue Jeans, "You're No Good"] And *that* was originally recorded by *Dee Dee* Warwick: [Excerpt: Dee Dee Warwick, "You're No Good"] Dee Dee also had a successful solo career, but Dionne's was the real success, making the names of herself, and of Bacharach and David. The team had more than twenty top forty hits together, before Bacharach and David had a falling out in 1971 and stopped working together, and Warwick sued both of them for breach of contract as a result. But prior to that they had hit after hit, with classic records like "Anyone Who Had a Heart": [Excerpt: Dionne Warwick, "Anyone Who Had a Heart"] And "Walk On By": [Excerpt: Dionne Warwick, "Walk On By"] With Doris, Dionne, and Dee Dee all going solo, the group's membership was naturally in flux -- though the departed members would occasionally join their former bandmates for sessions, and the remaining members would sing backing vocals on their ex-members' records. By 1965 the group consisted of Cissy Houston, Sylvia Shemwell, the Warwick sisters' cousin Myrna Smith, and Estelle Brown. The group became *the* go-to singers for soul and R&B records made in New York. They were regularly hired by Leiber and Stoller to sing on their records, and they were also the particular favourites of Bert Berns. They sang backing vocals on almost every record he produced. It's them doing the gospel wails on "Cry Baby" by Garnet Mimms: [Excerpt: Garnet Mimms, "Cry Baby"] And they sang backing vocals on both versions of "If You Need Me" -- Wilson Pickett's original and Solomon Burke's more successful cover version, produced by Berns: [Excerpt: Solomon Burke, "If You Need Me"] They're on such Berns records as "Show Me Your Monkey", by Kenny Hamber: [Excerpt: Kenny Hamber, "Show Me Your Monkey"] And it was a Berns production that ended up getting them to be Aretha Franklin's backing group. The group were becoming such an important part of the records that Atlantic and BANG Records, in particular, were putting out, that Jerry Wexler said "it was only a matter of common decency to put them under contract as a featured group". He signed them to Atlantic and renamed them from the Gospelaires to The Sweet Inspirations.  Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham wrote a song for the group which became their only hit under their own name: [Excerpt: The Sweet Inspirations, "Sweet Inspiration"] But to start with, they released a cover of Pops Staples' civil rights song "Why (Am I treated So Bad)": [Excerpt: The Sweet Inspirations, "Why (Am I Treated So Bad?)"] That hadn't charted, and meanwhile, they'd all kept doing session work. Cissy had joined Erma and Carolyn Franklin on the backing vocals for Aretha's "I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You"] Shortly after that, the whole group recorded backing vocals for Erma's single "Piece of My Heart", co-written and produced by Berns: [Excerpt: Erma Franklin, "Piece of My Heart"] That became a top ten record on the R&B charts, but that caused problems. Aretha Franklin had a few character flaws, and one of these was an extreme level of jealousy for any other female singer who had any level of success and came up in the business after her. She could be incredibly graceful towards anyone who had been successful before her -- she once gave one of her Grammies away to Esther Phillips, who had been up for the same award and had lost to her -- but she was terribly insecure, and saw any contemporary as a threat. She'd spent her time at Columbia Records fuming (with some justification) that Barbra Streisand was being given a much bigger marketing budget than her, and she saw Diana Ross, Gladys Knight, and Dionne Warwick as rivals rather than friends. And that went doubly for her sisters, who she was convinced should be supporting her because of family loyalty. She had been infuriated at John Hammond when Columbia had signed Erma, thinking he'd gone behind her back to create competition for her. And now Erma was recording with Bert Berns. Bert Berns who had for years been a colleague of Jerry Wexler and the Ertegun brothers at Atlantic. Aretha was convinced that Wexler had put Berns up to signing Erma as some kind of power play. There was only one problem with this -- it simply wasn't true. As Wexler later explained “Bert and I had suffered a bad falling-out, even though I had enormous respect for him. After all, he was the guy who brought over guitarist Jimmy Page from England to play on our sessions. Bert, Ahmet, Nesuhi, and I had started a label together—Bang!—where Bert produced Van Morrison's first album. But Bert also had a penchant for trouble. He courted the wise guys. He wanted total control over every last aspect of our business dealings. Finally it was too much, and the Erteguns and I let him go. He sued us for breach of contract and suddenly we were enemies. I felt that he signed Erma, an excellent singer, not merely for her talent but as a way to get back at me. If I could make a hit with Aretha, he'd show me up by making an even bigger hit on Erma. Because there was always an undercurrent of rivalry between the sisters, this only added to the tension.” There were two things that resulted from this paranoia on Aretha's part. The first was that she and Wexler, who had been on first-name terms up to that point, temporarily went back to being "Mr. Wexler" and "Miss Franklin" to each other. And the second was that Aretha no longer wanted Carolyn and Erma to be her main backing vocalists, though they would continue to appear on her future records on occasion. From this point on, the Sweet Inspirations would be the main backing vocalists for Aretha in the studio throughout her golden era [xxcut line (and when the Sweet Inspirations themselves weren't on the record, often it would be former members of the group taking their place)]: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Ain't Nobody (Gonna Turn Me Around)"] The last day of sessions for Aretha Arrives was July the twenty-third, 1967. And as we heard in the episode on "I Was Made to Love Her", that was the day that the Detroit riots started. To recap briefly, that was four days of rioting started because of a history of racist policing, made worse by those same racist police overreacting to the initial protests. By the end of those four days, the National Guard, 82nd Airborne Division, and the 101st Airborne from Clarksville were all called in to deal with the violence, which left forty-three dead (of whom thirty-three were Black and only one was a police officer), 1,189 people were injured, and over 7,200 arrested, almost all of them Black. Those days in July would be a turning point for almost every musician based in Detroit. In particular, the police had murdered three members of the soul group the Dramatics, in a massacre of which the author John Hersey, who had been asked by President Johnson to be part of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders but had decided that would compromise his impartiality and did an independent journalistic investigation, said "The episode contained all the mythic themes of racial strife in the United States: the arm of the law taking the law into its own hands; interracial sex; the subtle poison of racist thinking by “decent” men who deny they are racists; the societal limbo into which, ever since slavery, so many young black men have been driven by our country; ambiguous justice in the courts; and the devastation in both black and white human lives that follows in the wake of violence as surely as ruinous and indiscriminate flood after torrents" But these were also the events that radicalised the MC5 -- the group had been playing a gig as Tim Buckley's support act when the rioting started, and guitarist Wayne Kramer decided afterwards to get stoned and watch the fires burning down the city through a telescope -- which police mistook for a rifle, leading to the National Guard knocking down Kramer's door. The MC5 would later cover "The Motor City is Burning", John Lee Hooker's song about the events: [Excerpt: The MC5, "The Motor City is Burning"] It would also be a turning point for Motown, too, in ways we'll talk about in a few future episodes.  And it was a political turning point too -- Michigan Governor George Romney, a liberal Republican (at a time when such people existed) had been the favourite for the Republican Presidential candidacy when he'd entered the race in December 1966, but as racial tensions ramped up in Detroit during the early months of 1967 he'd started trailing Richard Nixon, a man who was consciously stoking racists' fears. President Johnson, the incumbent Democrat, who was at that point still considering standing for re-election, made sure to make it clear to everyone during the riots that the decision to call in the National Guard had been made at the State level, by Romney, rather than at the Federal level.  That wasn't the only thing that removed the possibility of a Romney presidency, but it was a big part of the collapse of his campaign, and the, as it turned out, irrevocable turn towards right-authoritarianism that the party took with Nixon's Southern Strategy. Of course, Aretha Franklin had little way of knowing what was to come and how the riots would change the city and the country over the following decades. What she was primarily concerned about was the safety of her father, and to a lesser extent that of her sister-in-law Earline who was staying with him. Aretha, Carolyn, and Erma all tried to keep in constant touch with their father while they were out of town, and Aretha even talked about hiring private detectives to travel to Detroit, find her father, and get him out of the city to safety. But as her brother Cecil pointed out, he was probably the single most loved man among Black people in Detroit, and was unlikely to be harmed by the rioters, while he was too famous for the police to kill with impunity. Reverend Franklin had been having a stressful time anyway -- he had recently been fined for tax evasion, an action he was convinced the IRS had taken because of his friendship with Dr King and his role in the civil rights movement -- and according to Cecil "Aretha begged Daddy to move out of the city entirely. She wanted him to find another congregation in California, where he was especially popular—or at least move out to the suburbs. But he wouldn't budge. He said that, more than ever, he was needed to point out the root causes of the riots—the economic inequality, the pervasive racism in civic institutions, the woefully inadequate schools in inner-city Detroit, and the wholesale destruction of our neighborhoods by urban renewal. Some ministers fled the city, but not our father. The horror of what happened only recommitted him. He would not abandon his political agenda." To make things worse, Aretha was worried about her father in other ways -- as her marriage to Ted White was starting to disintegrate, she was looking to her father for guidance, and actually wanted him to take over her management. Eventually, Ruth Bowen, her booking agent, persuaded her brother Cecil that this was a job he could do, and that she would teach him everything he needed to know about the music business. She started training him up while Aretha was still married to White, in the expectation that that marriage couldn't last. Jerry Wexler, who only a few months earlier had been seeing Ted White as an ally in getting "product" from Franklin, had now changed his tune -- partly because the sale of Atlantic had gone through in the meantime. He later said “Sometimes she'd call me at night, and, in that barely audible little-girl voice of hers, she'd tell me that she wasn't sure she could go on. She always spoke in generalities. She never mentioned her husband, never gave me specifics of who was doing what to whom. And of course I knew better than to ask. She just said that she was tired of dealing with so much. My heart went out to her. She was a woman who suffered silently. She held so much in. I'd tell her to take as much time off as she needed. We had a lot of songs in the can that we could release without new material. ‘Oh, no, Jerry,' she'd say. ‘I can't stop recording. I've written some new songs, Carolyn's written some new songs. We gotta get in there and cut 'em.' ‘Are you sure?' I'd ask. ‘Positive,' she'd say. I'd set up the dates and typically she wouldn't show up for the first or second sessions. Carolyn or Erma would call me to say, ‘Ree's under the weather.' That was tough because we'd have asked people like Joe South and Bobby Womack to play on the sessions. Then I'd reschedule in the hopes she'd show." That third album she recorded in 1967, Lady Soul, was possibly her greatest achievement. The opening track, and second single, "Chain of Fools", released in November, was written by Don Covay -- or at least it's credited as having been written by Covay. There's a gospel record that came out around the same time on a very small label based in Houston -- "Pains of Life" by Rev. E. Fair And The Sensational Gladys Davis Trio: [Excerpt: Rev. E. Fair And The Sensational Gladys Davis Trio, "Pains of Life"] I've seen various claims online that that record came out shortly *before* "Chain of Fools", but I can't find any definitive evidence one way or the other -- it was on such a small label that release dates aren't available anywhere. Given that the B-side, which I haven't been able to track down online, is called "Wait Until the Midnight Hour", my guess is that rather than this being a case of Don Covay stealing the melody from an obscure gospel record he'd have had little chance to hear, it's the gospel record rewriting a then-current hit to be about religion, but I thought it worth mentioning. The song was actually written by Covay after Jerry Wexler asked him to come up with some songs for Otis Redding, but Wexler, after hearing it, decided it was better suited to Franklin, who gave an astonishing performance: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Chain of Fools"] Arif Mardin, the arranger of the album, said of that track “I was listed as the arranger of ‘Chain of Fools,' but I can't take credit. Aretha walked into the studio with the chart fully formed inside her head. The arrangement is based around the harmony vocals provided by Carolyn and Erma. To add heft, the Sweet Inspirations joined in. The vision of the song is entirely Aretha's.” According to Wexler, that's not *quite* true -- according to him, Joe South came up with the guitar part that makes up the intro, and he also said that when he played what he thought was the finished track to Ellie Greenwich, she came up with another vocal line for the backing vocals, which she overdubbed. But the core of the record's sound is definitely pure Aretha -- and Carolyn Franklin said that there was a reason for that. As she said later “Aretha didn't write ‘Chain,' but she might as well have. It was her story. When we were in the studio putting on the backgrounds with Ree doing lead, I knew she was singing about Ted. Listen to the lyrics talking about how for five long years she thought he was her man. Then she found out she was nothing but a link in the chain. Then she sings that her father told her to come on home. Well, he did. She sings about how her doctor said to take it easy. Well, he did too. She was drinking so much we thought she was on the verge of a breakdown. The line that slew me, though, was the one that said how one of these mornings the chain is gonna break but until then she'll take all she can take. That summed it up. Ree knew damn well that this man had been doggin' her since Jump Street. But somehow she held on and pushed it to the breaking point." [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Chain of Fools"] That made number one on the R&B charts, and number two on the hot one hundred, kept from the top by "Judy In Disguise (With Glasses)" by John Fred and his Playboy Band -- a record that very few people would say has stood the test of time as well. The other most memorable track on the album was the one chosen as the first single, released in September. As Carole King told the story, she and Gerry Goffin were feeling like their career was in a slump. While they had had a huge run of hits in the early sixties through 1965, they had only had two new hits in 1966 -- "Goin' Back" for Dusty Springfield and "Don't Bring Me Down" for the Animals, and neither of those were anything like as massive as their previous hits. And up to that point in 1967, they'd only had one -- "Pleasant Valley Sunday" for the Monkees. They had managed to place several songs on Monkees albums and the TV show as well, so they weren't going to starve, but the rise of self-contained bands that were starting to dominate the charts, and Phil Spector's temporary retirement, meant there simply wasn't the opportunity for them to place material that there had been. They were also getting sick of travelling to the West Coast all the time, because as their children were growing slightly older they didn't want to disrupt their lives in New York, and were thinking of approaching some of the New York based labels and seeing if they needed songs. They were particularly considering Atlantic, because soul was more open to outside songwriters than other genres. As it happened, though, they didn't have to approach Atlantic, because Atlantic approached them. They were walking down Broadway when a limousine pulled up, and Jerry Wexler stuck his head out of the window. He'd come up with a good title that he wanted to use for a song for Aretha, would they be interested in writing a song called "Natural Woman"? They said of course they would, and Wexler drove off. They wrote the song that night, and King recorded a demo the next morning: [Excerpt: Carole King, "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman (demo)"] They gave Wexler a co-writing credit because he had suggested the title.  King later wrote in her autobiography "Hearing Aretha's performance of “Natural Woman” for the first time, I experienced a rare speechless moment. To this day I can't convey how I felt in mere words. Anyone who had written a song in 1967 hoping it would be performed by a singer who could take it to the highest level of excellence, emotional connection, and public exposure would surely have wanted that singer to be Aretha Franklin." She went on to say "But a recording that moves people is never just about the artist and the songwriters. It's about people like Jerry and Ahmet, who matched the songwriters with a great title and a gifted artist; Arif Mardin, whose magnificent orchestral arrangement deserves the place it will forever occupy in popular music history; Tom Dowd, whose engineering skills captured the magic of this memorable musical moment for posterity; and the musicians in the rhythm section, the orchestral players, and the vocal contributions of the background singers—among them the unforgettable “Ah-oo!” after the first line of the verse. And the promotion and marketing people helped this song reach more people than it might have without them." And that's correct -- unlike "Chain of Fools", this time Franklin did let Arif Mardin do most of the arrangement work -- though she came up with the piano part that Spooner Oldham plays on the record. Mardin said that because of the song's hymn-like feel they wanted to go for a more traditional written arrangement. He said "She loved the song to the point where she said she wanted to concentrate on the vocal and vocal alone. I had written a string chart and horn chart to augment the chorus and hired Ralph Burns to conduct. After just a couple of takes, we had it. That's when Ralph turned to me with wonder in his eyes. Ralph was one of the most celebrated arrangers of the modern era. He had done ‘Early Autumn' for Woody Herman and Stan Getz, and ‘Georgia on My Mind' for Ray Charles. He'd worked with everyone. ‘This woman comes from another planet' was all Ralph said. ‘She's just here visiting.'” [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman"] By this point there was a well-functioning team making Franklin's records -- while the production credits would vary over the years, they were all essentially co-productions by the team of Franklin, Wexler, Mardin and Dowd, all collaborating and working together with a more-or-less unified purpose, and the backing was always by the same handful of session musicians and some combination of the Sweet Inspirations and Aretha's sisters. That didn't mean that occasional guests couldn't get involved -- as we discussed in the Cream episode, Eric Clapton played guitar on "Good to Me as I am to You": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Good to Me as I am to You"] Though that was one of the rare occasions on one of these records where something was overdubbed. Clapton apparently messed up the guitar part when playing behind Franklin, because he was too intimidated by playing with her, and came back the next day to redo his part without her in the studio. At this point, Aretha was at the height of her fame. Just before the final batch of album sessions began she appeared in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, and she was making regular TV appearances, like one on the Mike Douglas Show where she duetted with Frankie Valli on "That's Life": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin and Frankie Valli, "That's Life"] But also, as Wexler said “Her career was kicking into high gear. Contending and resolving both the professional and personal challenges were too much. She didn't think she could do both, and I didn't blame her. Few people could. So she let the personal slide and concentrated on the professional. " Her concert promoter Ruth Bowen said of this time "Her father and Dr. King were putting pressure on her to sing everywhere, and she felt obligated. The record company was also screaming for more product. And I had a mountain of offers on my desk that kept getting higher with every passing hour. They wanted her in Europe. They wanted her in Latin America. They wanted her in every major venue in the U.S. TV was calling. She was being asked to do guest appearances on every show from Carol Burnett to Andy Williams to the Hollywood Palace. She wanted to do them all and she wanted to do none of them. She wanted to do them all because she's an entertainer who burns with ambition. She wanted to do none of them because she was emotionally drained. She needed to go away and renew her strength. I told her that at least a dozen times. She said she would, but she didn't listen to me." The pressures from her father and Dr King are a recurring motif in interviews with people about this period. Franklin was always a very political person, and would throughout her life volunteer time and money to liberal political causes and to the Democratic Party, but this was the height of her activism -- the Civil Rights movement was trying to capitalise on the gains it had made in the previous couple of years, and celebrity fundraisers and performances at rallies were an important way to do that. And at this point there were few bigger celebrities in America than Aretha Franklin. At a concert in her home town of Detroit on February the sixteenth, 1968, the Mayor declared the day Aretha Franklin Day. At the same show, Billboard, Record World *and* Cash Box magazines all presented her with plaques for being Female Vocalist of the Year. And Dr. King travelled up to be at the show and congratulate her publicly for all her work with his organisation, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Backstage at that show, Dr. King talked to Aretha's father, Reverend Franklin, about what he believed would be the next big battle -- a strike in Memphis: [Excerpt, Martin Luther King, "Mountaintop Speech" -- "And so, as a result of this, we are asking you tonight, to go out and tell your neighbors not to buy Coca-Cola in Memphis. Go by and tell them not to buy Sealtest milk. Tell them not to buy—what is the other bread?—Wonder Bread. And what is the other bread company, Jesse? Tell them not to buy Hart's bread. As Jesse Jackson has said, up to now, only the garbage men have been feeling pain; now we must kind of redistribute the pain. We are choosing these companies because they haven't been fair in their hiring policies; and we are choosing them because they can begin the process of saying, they are going to support the needs and the rights of these men who are on strike. And then they can move on downtown and tell Mayor Loeb to do what is right."] The strike in question was the Memphis Sanitation Workers' strike which had started a few days before.  The struggle for Black labour rights was an integral part of the civil rights movement, and while it's not told that way in the sanitised version of the story that's made it into popular culture, the movement led by King was as much about economic justice as social justice -- King was a democratic socialist, and believed that economic oppression was both an effect of and cause of other forms of racial oppression, and that the rights of Black workers needed to be fought for. In 1967 he had set up a new organisation, the Poor People's Campaign, which was set to march on Washington to demand a program that included full employment, a guaranteed income -- King was strongly influenced in his later years by the ideas of Henry George, the proponent of a universal basic income based on land value tax -- the annual building of half a million affordable homes, and an end to the war in Vietnam. This was King's main focus in early 1968, and he saw the sanitation workers' strike as a major part of this campaign. Memphis was one of the most oppressive cities in the country, and its largely Black workforce of sanitation workers had been trying for most of the 1960s to unionise, and strike-breakers had been called in to stop them, and many of them had been fired by their white supervisors with no notice. They were working in unsafe conditions, for utterly inadequate wages, and the city government were ardent segregationists. After two workers had died on the first of February from using unsafe equipment, the union demanded changes -- safer working conditions, better wages, and recognition of the union. The city council refused, and almost all the sanitation workers stayed home and stopped work. After a few days, the council relented and agreed to their terms, but the Mayor, Henry Loeb, an ardent white supremacist who had stood on a platform of opposing desegregation, and who had previously been the Public Works Commissioner who had put these unsafe conditions in place, refused to listen. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one who could recognise the union, and he wouldn't. The workers continued their strike, marching holding signs that simply read "I am a Man": [Excerpt: Stevie Wonder, "Blowing in the Wind"] The Southern Christian Leadership Conference and the NAACP had been involved in organising support for the strikes from an early stage, and King visited Memphis many times. Much of the time he spent visiting there was spent negotiating with a group of more militant activists, who called themselves The Invaders and weren't completely convinced by King's nonviolent approach -- they believed that violence and rioting got more attention than non-violent protests. King explained to them that while he had been persuaded by Gandhi's writings of the moral case for nonviolent protest, he was also persuaded that it was pragmatically necessary -- asking the young men "how many guns do we have and how many guns do they have?", and pointing out as he often did that when it comes to violence a minority can't win against an armed majority. Rev Franklin went down to Memphis on the twenty-eighth of March to speak at a rally Dr. King was holding, but as it turned out the rally was cancelled -- the pre-rally march had got out of hand, with some people smashing windows, and Memphis police had, like the police in Detroit the previous year, violently overreacted, clubbing and gassing protestors and shooting and killing one unarmed teenage boy, Larry Payne. The day after Payne's funeral, Dr King was back in Memphis, though this time Rev Franklin was not with him. On April the third, he gave a speech which became known as the "Mountaintop Speech", in which he talked about the threats that had been made to his life: [Excerpt: Martin Luther King, "Mountaintop Speech": “And then I got to Memphis. And some began to say the threats, or talk about the threats that were out. What would happen to me from some of our sick white brothers? Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. So I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."] The next day, Martin Luther King was shot dead. James Earl Ray, a white supremacist, pled guilty to the murder, and the evidence against him seems overwhelming from what I've read, but the King family have always claimed that the murder was part of a larger conspiracy and that Ray was not the gunman. Aretha was obviously distraught, and she attended the funeral, as did almost every other prominent Black public figure. James Baldwin wrote of the funeral: "In the pew directly before me sat Marlon Brando, Sammy Davis, Eartha Kitt—covered in black, looking like a lost, ten-year-old girl—and Sidney Poitier, in the same pew, or nearby. Marlon saw me, and nodded. The atmosphere was black, with a tension indescribable—as though something, perhaps the heavens, perhaps the earth, might crack. Everyone sat very still. The actual service sort of washed over me, in waves. It wasn't that it seemed unreal; it was the most real church service I've ever sat through in my life, or ever hope to sit through; but I have a childhood hangover thing about not weeping in public, and I was concentrating on holding myself together. I did not want to weep for Martin, tears seemed futile. But I may also have been afraid, and I could not have been the only one, that if I began to weep I would not be able to stop. There was more than enough to weep for, if one was to weep—so many of us, cut down, so soon. Medgar, Malcolm, Martin: and their widows, and their children. Reverend Ralph David Abernathy asked a certain sister to sing a song which Martin had loved—“Once more,” said Ralph David, “for Martin and for me,” and he sat down." Many articles and books on Aretha Franklin say that she sang at King's funeral. In fact she didn't, but there's a simple reason for the confusion. King's favourite song was the Thomas Dorsey gospel song "Take My Hand, Precious Lord", and indeed almost his last words were to ask a trumpet player, Ben Branch, if he would play the song at the rally he was going to be speaking at on the day of his death. At his request, Mahalia Jackson, his old friend, sang the song at his private funeral, which was not filmed, unlike the public part of the funeral that Baldwin described. Four months later, though, there was another public memorial for King, and Franklin did sing "Take My Hand, Precious Lord" at that service, in front of King's weeping widow and children, and that performance *was* filmed, and gets conflated in people's memories with Jackson's unfilmed earlier performance: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Take My Hand, Precious Lord (at Martin Luther King Memorial)"] Four years later, she would sing that at Mahalia Jackson's funeral. Through all this, Franklin had been working on her next album, Aretha Now, the sessions for which started more or less as soon as the sessions for Lady Soul had finished. The album was, in fact, bookended by deaths that affected Aretha. Just as King died at the end of the sessions, the beginning came around the time of the death of Otis Redding -- the sessions were cancelled for a day while Wexler travelled to Georgia for Redding's funeral, which Franklin was too devastated to attend, and Wexler would later say that the extra emotion in her performances on the album came from her emotional pain at Redding's death. The lead single on the album, "Think", was written by Franklin and -- according to the credits anyway -- her husband Ted White, and is very much in the same style as "Respect", and became another of her most-loved hits: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Think"] But probably the song on Aretha Now that now resonates the most is one that Jerry Wexler tried to persuade her not to record, and was only released as a B-side. Indeed, "I Say a Little Prayer" was a song that had already once been a hit after being a reject.  Hal David, unlike Burt Bacharach, was a fairly political person and inspired by the protest song movement, and had been starting to incorporate his concerns about the political situation and the Vietnam War into his lyrics -- though as with many such writers, he did it in much less specific ways than a Phil Ochs or a Bob Dylan. This had started with "What the World Needs Now is Love", a song Bacharach and David had written for Jackie DeShannon in 1965: [Excerpt: Jackie DeShannon, "What the "World Needs Now is Love"] But he'd become much more overtly political for "The Windows of the World", a song they wrote for Dionne Warwick. Warwick has often said it's her favourite of her singles, but it wasn't a big hit -- Bacharach blamed himself for that, saying "Dionne recorded it as a single and I really blew it. I wrote a bad arrangement and the tempo was too fast, and I really regret making it the way I did because it's a good song." [Excerpt: Dionne Warwick, "The Windows of the World"] For that album, Bacharach and David had written another track, "I Say a Little Prayer", which was not as explicitly political, but was intended by David to have an implicit anti-war message, much like other songs of the period like "Last Train to Clarksville". David had sons who were the right age to be drafted, and while it's never stated, "I Say a Little Prayer" was written from the perspective of a woman whose partner is away fighting in the war, but is still in her thoughts: [Excerpt: Dionne Warwick, "I Say a Little Prayer"] The recording of Dionne Warwick's version was marked by stress. Bacharach had a particular way of writing music to tell the musicians the kind of feel he wanted for the part -- he'd write nonsense words above the stave, and tell the musicians to play the parts as if they were singing those words. The trumpet player hired for the session, Ernie Royal, got into a row with Bacharach about this unorthodox way of communicating musical feeling, and the track ended up taking ten takes (as opposed to the normal three for a Bacharach session), with Royal being replaced half-way through the session. Bacharach was never happy with the track even after all the work it had taken, and he fought to keep it from being released at all, saying the track was taken at too fast a tempo. It eventually came out as an album track nearly eighteen months after it was recorded -- an eternity in 1960s musical timescales -- and DJs started playing it almost as soon as it came out. Scepter records rushed out a single, over Bacharach's objections, but as he later said "One thing I love about the record business is how wrong I was. Disc jockeys all across the country started playing the track, and the song went to number four on the charts and then became the biggest hit Hal and I had ever written for Dionne." [Excerpt: Dionne Warwick, "I Say a Little Prayer"] Oddly, the B-side for Warwick's single, "Theme From the Valley of the Dolls" did even better, reaching number two. Almost as soon as the song was released as a single, Franklin started playing around with the song backstage, and in April 1968, right around the time of Dr. King's death, she recorded a version. Much as Burt Bacharach had been against releasing Dionne Warwick's version, Jerry Wexler was against Aretha even recording the song, saying later “I advised Aretha not to record it. I opposed it for two reasons. First, to cover a song only twelve weeks after the original reached the top of the charts was not smart business. You revisit such a hit eight months to a year later. That's standard practice. But more than that, Bacharach's melody, though lovely, was peculiarly suited to a lithe instrument like Dionne Warwick's—a light voice without the dark corners or emotional depths that define Aretha. Also, Hal David's lyric was also somewhat girlish and lacked the gravitas that Aretha required. “Aretha usually listened to me in the studio, but not this time. She had written a vocal arrangement for the Sweet Inspirations that was undoubtedly strong. Cissy Houston, Dionne's cousin, told me that Aretha was on the right track—she was seeing this song in a new way and had come up with a new groove. Cissy was on Aretha's side. Tommy Dowd and Arif were on Aretha's side. So I had no choice but to cave." It's quite possible that Wexler's objections made Franklin more, rather than less, determined to record the song. She regarded Warwick as a hated rival, as she did almost every prominent female singer of her generation and younger ones, and would undoubtedly have taken the implication that there was something that Warwick was simply better at than her to heart. [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "I Say a Little Prayer"] Wexler realised as soon as he heard it in the studio that Franklin's version was great, and Bacharach agreed, telling Franklin's biographer David Ritz “As much as I like the original recording by Dionne, there's no doubt that Aretha's is a better record. She imbued the song with heavy soul and took it to a far deeper place. Hers is the definitive version.” -- which is surprising because Franklin's version simplifies some of Bacharach's more unusual chord voicings, something he often found extremely upsetting. Wexler still though thought there was no way the song would be a hit, and it's understandable that he thought that way. Not only had it only just been on the charts a few months earlier, but it was the kind of song that wouldn't normally be a hit at all, and certainly not in the kind of rhythmic soul music for which Franklin was known. Almost everything she ever recorded is in simple time signatures -- 4/4, waltz time, or 6/8 -- but this is a Bacharach song so it's staggeringly metrically irregular. Normally even with semi-complex things I'm usually good at figuring out how to break it down into bars, but here I actually had to purchase a copy of the sheet music in order to be sure I was right about what's going on. I'm going to count beats along with the record here so you can see what I mean. The verse has three bars of 4/4, one bar of 2/4, and three more bars of 4/4, all repeated: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "I Say a Little Prayer" with me counting bars over verse] While the chorus has a bar of 4/4, a bar of 3/4 but with a chord change half way through so it sounds like it's in two if you're paying attention to the harmonic changes, two bars of 4/4, another waltz-time bar sounding like it's in two, two bars of four, another bar of three sounding in two, a bar of four, then three more bars of four but the first of those is *written* as four but played as if it's in six-eight time (but you can keep the four/four pulse going if you're counting): [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "I Say a Little Prayer" with me counting bars over verse] I don't expect you to have necessarily followed that in great detail, but the point should be clear -- this was not some straightforward dance song. Incidentally, that bar played as if it's six/eight was something Aretha introduced to make the song even more irregular than how Bacharach wrote it. And on top of *that* of course the lyrics mixed the secular and the sacred, something that was still taboo in popular music at that time -- this is only a couple of years after Capitol records had been genuinely unsure about putting out the Beach Boys' "God Only Knows", and Franklin's gospel-inflected vocals made the religious connection even more obvious. But Franklin was insistent that the record go out as a single, and eventually it was released as the B-side to the far less impressive "The House That Jack Built". It became a double-sided hit, with the A-side making number two on the R&B chart and number seven on the Hot One Hundred, while "I Say a Little Prayer" made number three on the R&B chart and number ten overall. In the UK, "I Say a Little Prayer" made number four and became her biggest ever solo UK hit. It's now one of her most-remembered songs, while the A-side is largely forgotten: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "I Say a Little Prayer"] For much of the

Today's Locked on Ole Miss podcast we talk about the Kam Franklin commitment and how Ole Miss Football and Lane Kiffin are constantly underestimated by opponents. We look at Franklins highlights and talk about how this could be a defining week for Ole Miss and Lane Kiffin. Then we move on to who we need to watch this week as Ole Miss is on commitment watch. In the second segment of the show we talk about the Grove Collective having their 'Day of Collection' today starting at 11 CT on OleMissSports.com and talk to Walker Jones of the Grove Collective about what Ole Miss fans can look forward to on their livestream as they raise money for the collective.  Then we move on to the Ole Miss Closed scrimmage and questions that we might have about this Ole Miss team in 2023. In our final segment of the day we talk about betting lines from FanDuel for the Week 0 games this weekend. Notre Dame vs Navy from Ireland and Vanderbilt vs Hawaii from Nashville are two games that we will be looking forward to watching. WANT MORE OLE MISS SPORTS CONTENT? Join our Subtext communityhttps://joinsubtext.com/lockedonolemiss  Follow and Subscribe to the Podcast on these platforms:

Today's Locked on Ole Miss podcast we talk about the Kam Franklin commitment and how Ole Miss Football and Lane Kiffin are constantly underestimated by opponents. We look at Franklins highlights and talk about how this could be a defining week for Ole Miss and Lane Kiffin. Then we move on to who we need to watch this week as Ole Miss is on commitment watch.   In the second segment of the show we talk about the Grove Collective having their 'Day of Collection' today starting at 11 CT on OleMissSports.com and talk to Walker Jones of the Grove Collective about what Ole Miss fans can look forward to on their livestream as they raise money for the collective.  Then we move on to the Ole Miss Closed scrimmage and questions that we might have about this Ole Miss team in 2023.   In our final segment of the day we talk about betting lines from FanDuel for the Week 0 games this weekend. Notre Dame vs Navy from Ireland and Vanderbilt vs Hawaii from Nashville are two games that we will be looking forward to watching.   WANT MORE OLE MISS SPORTS CONTENT?   Join our Subtext community https://joinsubtext.com/lockedonolemiss     Follow and Subscribe to the Podcast on these platforms:

“THE ONE” is a fun, competition dating series, led by celebrity power couple Kirk and Tammy Franklin. The Franklins will share their magic to maintain a healthy relationship with one male and female single who live an exceptional life, except when it comes to dating and finding love. These two singles are both good-looking and successful but have struggled to find that special person. With Kirk and Tammy's advice, are they able to trust the process and put in the necessary work to find THE ONE?Written and produced by Kirk, the upbeat ode, “All Things,” aims to remind listeners that with God all things are possible. The video for the song highlights the power of giving as Franklin displays random acts of kindness to strangers throughout the visual. He hopes that the song and video inspire people to believe that all things work together for the greater good.

On this episode of Let's be Blunt, Montel talks with Michael Wilson, the foudner of the MO canna company, Franklin's Stash House. Michael is a serial entrepreneur with 20+ years of experience across design and engineering, precision manufacturing, brand development, corporate modeling, financial modeling and multi-state and international cannabis licensing. He first launched his business as a hemp brand, and later obtained licenses to manufacture and distribute THC based products.

Thursday on Political Rewind: Host Bill Nigut continues our series of conversations with Georgia's thought leaders. He interviews former Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin, Atlanta's first female mayor and the first Black woman to head a major Southern city. 0:00 - Introductions 2:00 - Former Mayor Shirley Franklin talks about her early life in Philadelphia 9:00 - Franklin talks about her desire to be a dancer 13:00 - Franklin talks about her undergrad experience at Howard University 17:00 - Franklin talks March on Washington, Andrew Young, and John Lewis' influences 28:00 - Franklin talks about winning the mayor's race 35:00 - Franklin talks about getting Atlanta out of a budget deficit 45:00 - Franklins reflects on Olympic controversy and celebration Friday on Political Rewind: Former columnist Jim Galloway joins the panel.

This solo episode features a reading of the poem THE ANCESTORS which I wrote around 2008.The poem was the response to a prayer that I sent up requesting guidance on how to revise Show Me the Franklins, a play about Benjamin Franklin and slavery.Support the showMother tree Network Podcast--Where Spirituality and Earth Wisdom Meet Racial Justice and Women's Leadership. Want to become your unlimited self and evolve the planet?Go here to get the Mother Tree podcast + Show Notes sent to your inbox https://www.dramandakemp.com/podcast

Bob, Cory, Philena and Greg are back for the first time this season! Yes. This is only S2 episode with all the OMFYS co-hosts. Greg hasn't been here since our season premiere, but Cory wasn't around for that one, and the Psychedelic Kaiju ep had no Franklins whatsoever. We did get a little chatty with the joyous reunion and all, and our movies this time gave us a lot of psychological baggage to unpack, so this ep is, um, expansive. However, Cory tells Bob that "people really like long podcasts," so have at enjoy the 88 minute binge. This week we explore criminal justice and murder with two f--d up movies from directors we should have covered a lot sooner. First, we have Orson Welles pulling off the mother of all crane shots in TOUCH OF EVIL, his ACAB masterpiece from 1958--a film so brilliant that even Charlton Heston in brown face can't ruin it. Welles is Hank Quinlin, a grotesque American cop in a sleazy border town who never found a piece of evidence he didn't manufacture. Heston is Vargas, an upstanding Mexican official who clashes with Quinlin when an American businessman is blown to bits by a car bomb that was planted on the Mexican side of the border. The movie is a technical marvel with a banger of a Latin jazz meets rock and roll score by Henry Mancini. And the cast is pretty amazing too, with Janet Leigh, Marlene Dietrich, Joseph Cotten, Akim Tamiroff, Joseph Calleia, and the Queen of Outer Space herself, Zsa Zsa Gabor. Cory gives it the stony seal of approval. Next, we come dangerously close to the 21st Century with David Lynch's LOST HIGHWAY (1997). At the time Lynch and Barry Gifford wrote this film, they were both obsessed with the OJ Simpson murder trial and how dissociative fugue allowed The Juice to maintain his breezy demeanor despite his horrible crimes. Lynch takes his exploration of murder, guilt and fugue states to an appropriately absurd level here as Bill Pullman plays a jazz saxophonist who murders his wife, goes to jail, and wakes up as an auto mechanic played by Balthazar Getty. Making things even creepier is the casting of Robert Blake as the movie's "Mystery Man," a few years before he was the defendant in a sensational murder trial of his own. Also starring Patricia Arquette and Robert Loggia in dual roles plus Natasha Gregson Wagner (Natalie Wood's daughter), Gary Busey, Richard Pryor (his last film role), and Marilyn Manson as a porn actor to make things even more problematic. Co-hosts: Bob Calhoun, Philena Franklin, Cory Sklar, and Greg Franklin Theme song: Chaki the Funk Wizard Twitter: OM4YStoners Instagram/Facebook (Meta): oldmoviesforyoungstoners Mastadon: oldmoviesforyoungstoners@mstdn.social Contact: oldmoviesforyoungstoners AT gmail DOT com

Ron Gordon from Edward Jones has the financial news du jour, then Joe Henry talks of his adult son Franklin, who is autistic. Joe shares Franklins genetic testing experiences, research being done with his genes, and more about ins and outs of autism.

"Who Was That Masked Man?" The Lone Ranger is one of the iconic characters in American folklore. The Lone Ranger and Tonto are two of America's favorite western characters, and the theme and bridge music caused many thousands of kids to grow up to liking classical music, too. Listen to our radio station Old Time Radio https://link.radioking.com/otradio Listen to other Shows at My Classic Radio https://www.myclassicradio.net/ Remember that times have changed, and some shows might not reflect the standards of today's politically correct society. The shows do not necessarily reflect the views, standards, or beliefs of Entertainment Radio

Episode 114 of The Popko Project Podcast features Kyle Demko of “Always Undecided”. Brought to you by Keller's Garden Center/Keller’s Lawn Care And Landscaping Services LLC, Ionic Development, The V-Spot Bar in Scranton, and Axelrad Screen Printing. Kyle is the frontman and founding member of the alternative rock band from Northeastern, Pennsylvania, Always Undecided. He’s […]

Love makes you do dumb things... like WANTING to hold the record of most times guesting on MSS like our friend Jose from "hit It & Crit It" who returns to discuss episode 39 of Fiveman entitled "Please Love Me"! Come along as we chat about lungs, the apocalypse, paprika, phone technology, catheters, Jose's job, winning the lottery, chatroulette, "Forgiving the Franklins", ice cubes, naval academy, legal loopholes, the E.T. ride, villain backstory, Shrek-like, apples, metaphors, Thanos, performance enhancing, culinary school, & more! Keep up to date on Melzer's short, "Special Delivery", by following @Stork_Film on Instagram & Twitter, or by heading over to specialdeliveryfilm.com! Want to hear more from your favorite Marsh Land Media hosts? Hear exclusive shows, podcasts, and content by heading to Patreon.com/MLMpod! Have fan mail, fan art, projects you want us to review, or whatever you want to send us? You can ship directly to us using "James McCollum, PO Box 180036, 2011 W Montrose Ave, Chicago, IL 60618"! Please, learn about Black Lives Matter, the protests, and find ways to donate at https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/. Follow the podcast on Facebook & Twitter @MSSPod, on Instagram @MSSPodcast! Watch James' "Mostly Playin' PlayStation" and our live streams on the MSS YouTube channel! On top of streaming on Facebook & YouTube, we also simul-stream at Twitch.tv/MostlySpeakinSentai! Listen to James' rap music under Marsh Land Monster on Spotify, Apple Music, Google Play, & more by clicking HERE. Send us a voice mail to be played on the show at (224) 900-7644! Nicole's Patreon is live! Check out www.Patreon.com/DarlingHombody for more details! Plus, head over to www.DarlingHomebody.com for all her art, the web comic Crumb Bums we make together, buy her merchandise, & watch her draw Gorma creations from the podcast! You can also buy her artwork on shirts and more on threadless.com/@darlinghomebody! Find her @DarlingHomebody on Instagram, Tumblr and Etsy! Buy her wares! Go purchase some of our original Sentai monster designs on RedBubble then post a pic on social media of you wearing the threads! www.redbubble.com/people/MSSPod/portfolio Find out more about James' other podcasts "Shuffling the Deck", "Sweet Child of Time", "Hit It & Crit It", and "This Movie's Gay" on our website, www.MLMPod.com!!! Plus, download James' albums!

In 1776, Benjamin Franklin left his English home to come back to America. More than 200 years later, over 1,200 bones and 15 bodies were found in his basement. Also, was the Ice Bucket Challenge that was being used for ALS awareness instead a Satanic Ritual? Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Episode 149 of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “Respect", and the journey of Aretha Franklin from teenage gospel singer to the Queen of Soul. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a fifteen-minute bonus episode available, on "I'm Just a Mops" by the Mops. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt's irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Also, people may be interested in a Facebook discussion group for the podcast, run by a friend of mine (I'm not on FB myself) which can be found at https://www.facebook.com/groups/293630102611672/ Errata I say "Rock-a-Bye Your Baby to a Dixie Melody" instead of "Rock-a-Bye Your Baby With a Dixie Melody". Also I say Spooner Oldham co-wrote "Do Right Woman". I meant Chips Moman. Resources No Mixcloud this week, as there are too many songs by Aretha Franklin. My main biographical source for Aretha Franklin is Respect: The Life of Aretha Franklin by David Ritz, and this is where most of the quotes from musicians come from. I also relied heavily on I Never Loved a Man the Way I Loved You by Matt Dobkin. Information on C.L. Franklin came from Singing in a Strange Land: C. L. Franklin, the Black Church, and the Transformation of America by Nick Salvatore. Rick Hall's The Man From Muscle Shoals: My Journey from Shame to Fame contains his side of the story. Country Soul by Charles L Hughes is a great overview of the soul music made in Muscle Shoals, Memphis, and Nashville in the sixties. Peter Guralnick's Sweet Soul Music: Rhythm And Blues And The Southern Dream Of Freedom is possibly less essential, but still definitely worth reading. And the I Never Loved a Man album is available in this five-album box set for a ludicrously cheap price. But it's actually worth getting this nineteen-CD set with her first sixteen Atlantic albums and a couple of bonus discs of demos and outtakes. There's barely a duff track in the whole nineteen discs. Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them? Transcript Before I start this episode,  I have to say that there are some things people may want to be aware of before listening to this. This episode has to deal, at least in passing, with subjects including child sexual abuse, intimate partner abuse, racism, and misogyny. I will of course try to deal with those subjects as tactfully as possible, but those of you who may be upset by those topics may want to check the episode transcript before or instead of listening. Those of you who leave comments or send me messages saying "why can't you just talk about the music instead of all this woke virtue-signalling?" may also want to skip this episode. You can go ahead and skip all the future ones as well, I won't mind. And one more thing to say before I get into the meat of the episode -- this episode puts me in a more difficult position than most other episodes of the podcast have. When I've talked about awful things that have happened in the course of this podcast previously, I have either been talking about perpetrators -- people like Phil Spector or Jerry Lee Lewis who did truly reprehensible things -- or about victims who have talked very publicly about the abuse they've suffered, people like Ronnie Spector or Tina Turner, who said very clearly "this is what happened to me and I want it on the public record". In the case of Aretha Franklin, she has been portrayed as a victim *by others*, and there are things that have been said about her life and her relationships which suggest that she suffered in some very terrible ways. But she herself apparently never saw herself as a victim, and didn't want some aspects of her private life talking about. At the start of David Ritz's biography of her, which is one of my main sources here, he recounts a conversation he had with her: "When I mentioned the possibility of my writing an independent biography, she said, “As long as I can approve it before it's published.” “Then it wouldn't be independent,” I said. “Why should it be independent?” “So I can tell the story from my point of view.” “But it's not your story, it's mine.” “You're an important historical figure, Aretha. Others will inevitably come along to tell your story. That's the blessing and burden of being a public figure.” “More burden than blessing,” she said." Now, Aretha Franklin is sadly dead, but I think that she still deserves the basic respect of being allowed privacy. So I will talk here about public matters, things she acknowledged in her own autobiography, and things that she and the people around her did in public situations like recording studios and concert venues. But there are aspects to the story of Aretha Franklin as that story is commonly told, which may well be true, but are of mostly prurient interest, don't add much to the story of how the music came to be made, and which she herself didn't want people talking about. So there will be things people might expect me to talk about in this episode, incidents where people in her life, usually men, treated her badly, that I'm going to leave out. That information is out there if people want to look for it, but I don't see myself as under any obligation to share it. That's not me making excuses for people who did inexcusable things, that's me showing some respect to one of the towering artistic figures of the latter half of the twentieth century. Because, of course, respect is what this is all about: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Respect"] One name that's come up a few times in this podcast, but who we haven't really talked about that much, is Bobby "Blue" Bland. We mentioned him as the single biggest influence on the style of Van Morrison, but Bland was an important figure in the Memphis music scene of the early fifties, which we talked about in several early episodes. He was one of the Beale Streeters, the loose aggregation of musicians that also included B.B. King and Johnny Ace, he worked with Ike Turner, and was one of the key links between blues and soul in the fifties and early sixties, with records like "Turn on Your Love Light": [Excerpt: Bobby "Blue" Bland, "Turn on Your Love Light"] But while Bland was influenced by many musicians we've talked about, his biggest influence wasn't a singer at all. It was a preacher he saw give a sermon in the early 1940s. As he said decades later: "Wasn't his words that got me—I couldn't tell you what he talked on that day, couldn't tell you what any of it meant, but it was the way he talked. He talked like he was singing. He talked music. The thing that really got me, though, was this squall-like sound he made to emphasize a certain word. He'd catch the word in his mouth, let it roll around and squeeze it with his tongue. When it popped on out, it exploded, and the ladies started waving and shouting. I liked all that. I started popping and shouting too. That next week I asked Mama when we were going back to Memphis to church. “‘Since when you so keen on church?' Mama asked. “‘I like that preacher,' I said. “‘Reverend Franklin?' she asked. “‘Well, if he's the one who sings when he preaches, that's the one I like.'" Bland was impressed by C.L. Franklin, and so were other Memphis musicians. Long after Franklin had moved to Detroit, they remembered him, and Bland and B.B. King would go to Franklin's church to see him preach whenever they were in the city. And Bland studied Franklin's records. He said later "I liked whatever was on the radio, especially those first things Nat Cole did with his trio. Naturally I liked the blues singers like Roy Brown, the jump singers like Louis Jordan, and the ballad singers like Billy Eckstine, but, brother, the man who really shaped me was Reverend Franklin." Bland would study Franklin's records, and would take the style that Franklin used in recorded sermons like "The Eagle Stirreth Her Nest": [Excerpt: C.L. Franklin, "The Eagle Stirreth Her Nest"] And you can definitely hear that preaching style on records like Bland's "I Pity the Fool": [Excerpt: Bobby "Blue" Bland, "I Pity the Fool"] But of course, that wasn't the only influence the Reverend C.L. Franklin had on the course of soul music. C.L. Franklin had grown up poor, on a Mississippi farm, and had not even finished grade school because he was needed to work behind the mule, ploughing the farm for his stepfather. But he had a fierce intelligence and became an autodidact, travelling regularly to the nearest library, thirty miles away, on a horse-drawn wagon, and reading everything he could get his hands on. At the age of sixteen he received what he believed to be a message from God, and decided to become an itinerant preacher. He would travel between many small country churches and build up audiences there -- and he would also study everyone else preaching there, analysing their sermons, seeing if he could anticipate their line of argument and get ahead of them, figuring out the structure. But unlike many people in the conservative Black Baptist churches of the time, he never saw the spiritual and secular worlds as incompatible. He saw blues music and Black church sermons as both being part of the same thing -- a Black culture and folklore that was worthy of respect in both its spiritual and secular aspects. He soon built up a small circuit of local churches where he would preach occasionally, but wasn't the main pastor at any of them. He got married aged twenty, though that marriage didn't last, and he seems to have been ambitious for a greater respectability. When that marriage failed, in June 1936, he married Barbara Siggers, a very intelligent, cultured, young single mother who had attended Booker T Washington High School, the best Black school in Memphis, and he adopted her son Vaughn. While he was mostly still doing churches in Mississippi, he took on one in Memphis as well, in an extremely poor area, but it gave him a foot in the door to the biggest Black city in the US. Barbara would later be called "one of the really great gospel singers" by no less than Mahalia Jackson. We don't have any recordings of Barbara singing, but Mahalia Jackson certainly knew what she was talking about when it came to great gospel singers: [Excerpt: Mahalia Jackson, "Precious Lord, Take My Hand"] Rev. Franklin was hugely personally ambitious, and he also wanted to get out of rural Mississippi, where the Klan were very active at this time, especially after his daughter Erma was born in 1938. They moved to Memphis in 1939, where he got a full-time position at New Salem Baptist Church, where for the first time he was able to earn a steady living from just one church and not have to tour round multiple churches. He soon became so popular that if you wanted to get a seat for the service at noon, you had to turn up for the 8AM Sunday School or you'd be forced to stand. He also enrolled for college courses at LeMoyne College. He didn't get a degree, but spent three years as a part-time student studying theology, literature, and sociology, and soon developed a liberal theology that was very different from the conservative fundamentalism he'd grown up in, though still very much part of the Baptist church. Where he'd grown up with a literalism that said the Bible was literally true, he started to accept things like evolution, and to see much of the Bible as metaphor. Now, we talked in the last episode about how impossible it is to get an accurate picture of the lives of religious leaders, because their life stories are told by those who admire them, and that's very much the case for C.L. Franklin. Franklin was a man who had many, many, admirable qualities -- he was fiercely intelligent, well-read, a superb public speaker, a man who was by all accounts genuinely compassionate towards those in need, and he became one of the leaders of the civil rights movement and inspired tens of thousands, maybe even millions, of people, directly and indirectly, to change the world for the better. He also raised several children who loved and admired him and were protective of his memory. And as such, there is an inevitable bias in the sources on Franklin's life. And so there's a tendency to soften the very worst things he did, some of which were very, very bad. For example in Nick Salvatore's biography of him, he talks about Franklin, in 1940, fathering a daughter with someone who is described as "a teenager" and "quite young". No details of her age other than that are given, and a few paragraphs later the age of a girl who was then sixteen *is* given, talking about having known the girl in question, and so the impression is given that the girl he impregnated was also probably in her late teens. Which would still be bad, but a man in his early twenties fathering a child with a girl in her late teens is something that can perhaps be forgiven as being a different time. But while the girl in question may have been a teenager when she gave birth, she was *twelve years old* when she became pregnant, by C.L. Franklin, the pastor of her church, who was in a position of power over her in multiple ways. Twelve years old. And this is not the only awful thing that Franklin did -- he was also known to regularly beat up women he was having affairs with, in public. I mention this now because everything else I say about him in this episode is filtered through sources who saw these things as forgivable character flaws in an otherwise admirable human being, and I can't correct for those biases because I don't know the truth. So it's going to sound like he was a truly great man. But bear those facts in mind. Barbara stayed with Franklin for the present, after discovering what he had done, but their marriage was a difficult one, and they split up and reconciled a handful of times. They had three more children together -- Cecil, Aretha, and Carolyn -- and remained together as Franklin moved on first to a church in Buffalo, New York, and then to New Bethel Church, in Detroit, on Hastings Street, a street which was the centre of Black nightlife in the city, as immortalised in John Lee Hooker's "Boogie Chillun": [Excerpt: John Lee Hooker, "Boogie Chillen"] Before moving to Detroit, Franklin had already started to get more political, as his congregation in Buffalo had largely been union members, and being free from the worst excesses of segregation allowed him to talk more openly about civil rights, but that only accelerated when he moved to Detroit, which had been torn apart just a couple of years earlier by police violence against Black protestors. Franklin had started building a reputation when in Memphis using radio broadcasts, and by the time he moved to Detroit he was able to command a very high salary, and not only that, his family were given a mansion by the church, in a rich part of town far away from most of his congregation. Smokey Robinson, who was Cecil Franklin's best friend and a frequent visitor to the mansion through most of his childhood, described it later, saying "Once inside, I'm awestruck -- oil paintings, velvet tapestries, silk curtains, mahogany cabinets filled with ornate objects of silver and gold. Man, I've never seen nothing like that before!" He made a lot of money, but he also increased church attendance so much that he earned that money. He had already been broadcasting on the radio, but when he started his Sunday night broadcasts in Detroit, he came up with a trick of having his sermons run long, so the show would end before the climax. People listening decided that they would have to start turning up in person to hear the end of the sermons, and soon he became so popular that the church would be so full that crowds would have to form on the street outside to listen. Other churches rescheduled their services so they wouldn't clash with Franklin's, and most of the other Black Baptist ministers in the city would go along to watch him preach. In 1948 though, a couple of years after moving to Detroit, Barbara finally left her husband. She took Vaughn with her and moved back to Buffalo, leaving the four biological children she'd had with C.L. with their father.  But it's important to note that she didn't leave her children -- they would visit her on a regular basis, and stay with her over school holidays. Aretha later said "Despite the fact that it has been written innumerable times, it is an absolute lie that my mother abandoned us. In no way, shape, form, or fashion did our mother desert us." Barbara's place in the home was filled by many women -- C.L. Franklin's mother moved up from Mississippi to help him take care of the children, the ladies from the church would often help out, and even stars like Mahalia Jackson would turn up and cook meals for the children. There were also the women with whom Franklin carried on affairs, including Anna Gordy, Ruth Brown, and Dinah Washington, the most important female jazz and blues singer of the fifties, who had major R&B hits with records like her version of "Cold Cold Heart": [Excerpt: Dinah Washington, "Cold Cold Heart"] Although my own favourite record of hers is "Big Long Slidin' Thing", which she made with arranger Quincy Jones: [Excerpt: Dinah Washington, "Big Long Slidin' Thing"] It's about a trombone. Get your minds out of the gutter. Washington was one of the biggest vocal influences on young Aretha, but the single biggest influence was Clara Ward, another of C.L. Franklin's many girlfriends. Ward was the longest-lasting of these, and there seems to have been a lot of hope on both her part and Aretha's that she and Rev. Franklin would marry, though Franklin always made it very clear that monogamy wouldn't suit him. Ward was one of the three major female gospel singers of the middle part of the century, and possibly even more technically impressive as a vocalist than the other two, Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Mahalia Jackson. Where Jackson was an austere performer, who refused to perform in secular contexts at all for most of her life, and took herself and her music very seriously, and Tharpe was a raunchier, funnier, more down-to-earth performer who was happy to play for blues audiences and even to play secular music on occasion, Ward was a *glamorous* performer, who wore sequined dresses and piled her hair high on her head. Ward had become a singer in 1931 when her mother had what she later talked about as a religious epiphany, and decided she wasn't going to be a labourer any more, she was going to devote her life to gospel music. Ward's mother had formed a vocal group with her two daughters, and Clara quickly became the star and her mother's meal ticket -- and her mother was very possessive of that ticket, to the extent that Ward, who was a bisexual woman who mostly preferred men, had more relationships with women, because her mother wouldn't let her be alone with the men she was attracted to. But Ward did manage to keep a relationship going with C.L. Franklin, and Aretha Franklin talked about the moment she decided to become a singer, when she saw Ward singing "Peace in the Valley" at a funeral: [Excerpt: Clara Ward, "Peace in the Valley"] As well as looking towards Ward as a vocal influence, Aretha was also influenced by her as a person -- she became a mother figure to Aretha, who would talk later about watching Ward eat, and noting her taking little delicate bites, and getting an idea of what it meant to be ladylike from her. After Ward's death in 1973, a notebook was found in which she had written her opinions of other singers. For Aretha she wrote “My baby Aretha, she doesn't know how good she is. Doubts self. Some day—to the moon. I love that girl.” Ward's influence became especially important to Aretha and her siblings after their mother died of a heart attack a few years after leaving her husband, when Aretha was ten, and Aretha, already a very introverted child, became even more so. Everyone who knew Aretha said that her later diva-ish reputation came out of a deep sense of insecurity and introversion -- that she was a desperately private, closed-off, person who would rarely express her emotions at all, and who would look away from you rather than make eye contact. The only time she let herself express emotions was when she performed music. And music was hugely important in the Franklin household. Most preachers in the Black church at that time were a bit dismissive of gospel music, because they thought the music took away from their prestige -- they saw it as a necessary evil, and resented it taking up space when their congregations could have been listening to them. But Rev. Franklin was himself a rather good singer, and even made a few gospel records himself in 1950, recording for Joe Von Battle, who owned a record shop on Hastings Street and also put out records by blues singers: [Excerpt: C.L. Franklin, "I Am Climbing Higher Mountains" ] The church's musical director was James Cleveland, one of the most important gospel artists of the fifties and sixties, who sang with groups like the Caravans: [Excerpt: The Caravans, "What Kind of Man is This?" ] Cleveland, who had started out in the choir run by Thomas Dorsey, the writer of “Take My Hand Precious Lord” and “Peace in the Valley”, moved in with the Franklin family for a while, and he gave the girls tips on playing the piano -- much later he would play piano on Aretha's album Amazing Grace, and she said of him “He showed me some real nice chords, and I liked his deep, deep sound”. Other than Clara Ward, he was probably the single biggest musical influence on Aretha. And all the touring gospel musicians would make appearances at New Bethel Church, not least of them Sam Cooke, who first appeared there with the Highway QCs and would continue to do so after joining the Soul Stirrers: [Excerpt: The Soul Stirrers, "Touch the Hem of his Garment"] Young Aretha and her older sister Erma both had massive crushes on Cooke, and there were rumours that he had an affair with one or both of them when they were in their teens, though both denied it. Aretha later said "When I first saw him, all I could do was sigh... Sam was love on first hearing, love at first sight." But it wasn't just gospel music that filled the house. One of the major ways that C.L. Franklin's liberalism showed was in his love of secular music, especially jazz and blues, which he regarded as just as important in Black cultural life as gospel music. We already talked about Dinah Washington being a regular visitor to the house, but every major Black entertainer would visit the Franklin residence when they were in Detroit. Both Aretha and Cecil Franklin vividly remembered visits from Art Tatum, who would sit at the piano and play for the family and their guests: [Excerpt: Art Tatum, "Tiger Rag"] Tatum was such a spectacular pianist that there's now a musicological term, the tatum, named after him, for the smallest possible discernible rhythmic interval between two notes. Young Aretha was thrilled by his technique, and by that of Oscar Peterson, who also regularly came to the Franklin home, sometimes along with Ella Fitzgerald. Nat "King" Cole was another regular visitor. The Franklin children all absorbed the music these people -- the most important musicians of the time -- were playing in their home, and young Aretha in particular became an astonishing singer and also an accomplished pianist. Smokey Robinson later said: “The other thing that knocked us out about Aretha was her piano playing. There was a grand piano in the Franklin living room, and we all liked to mess around. We'd pick out little melodies with one finger. But when Aretha sat down, even as a seven-year-old, she started playing chords—big chords. Later I'd recognize them as complex church chords, the kind used to accompany the preacher and the solo singer. At the time, though, all I could do was view Aretha as a wonder child. Mind you, this was Detroit, where musical talent ran strong and free. Everyone was singing and harmonizing; everyone was playing piano and guitar. Aretha came out of this world, but she also came out of another far-off magical world none of us really understood. She came from a distant musical planet where children are born with their gifts fully formed.” C.L. Franklin became more involved in the music business still when Joe Von Battle started releasing records of his sermons, which had become steadily more politically aware: [Excerpt: C.L. Franklin, "Dry Bones in the Valley"] Franklin was not a Marxist -- he was a liberal, but like many liberals was willing to stand with Marxists where they had shared interests, even when it was dangerous. For example in 1954, at the height of McCarthyism, he had James and Grace Lee Boggs, two Marxist revolutionaries, come to the pulpit and talk about their support for the anti-colonial revolution in Kenya, and they sold four hundred copies of their pamphlet after their talk, because he saw that the struggle of Black Africans to get out from white colonial rule was the same struggle as that of Black Americans. And Franklin's powerful sermons started getting broadcast on the radio in areas further out from Detroit, as Chess Records picked up the distribution for them and people started playing the records on other stations. People like future Congressman John Lewis and the Reverend Jesse Jackson would later talk about listening to C.L. Franklin's records on the radio and being inspired -- a whole generation of Black Civil Rights leaders took their cues from him, and as the 1950s and 60s went on he became closer and closer to Martin Luther King in particular. But C.L. Franklin was always as much an ambitious showman as an activist, and he started putting together gospel tours, consisting mostly of music but with himself giving a sermon as the headline act. And he became very, very wealthy from these tours. On one trip in the south, his car broke down, and he couldn't find a mechanic willing to work on it. A group of white men started mocking him with racist terms, trying to provoke him, as he was dressed well and driving a nice car (albeit one that had broken down). Rather than arguing with them, he walked to a car dealership, and bought a new car with the cash that he had on him. By 1956 he was getting around $4000 per appearance, roughly equivalent to $43,000 today, and he was making a *lot* of appearances. He also sold half a million records that year. Various gospel singers, including the Clara Ward Singers, would perform on the tours he organised, and one of those performers was Franklin's middle daughter Aretha. Aretha had become pregnant when she was twelve, and after giving birth to the child she dropped out of school, but her grandmother did most of the child-rearing for her, while she accompanied her father on tour. Aretha's first recordings, made when she was just fourteen, show what an astonishing talent she already was at that young age. She would grow as an artist, of course, as she aged and gained experience, but those early gospel records already show an astounding maturity and ability. It's jaw-dropping to listen to these records of a fourteen-year-old, and immediately recognise them as a fully-formed Aretha Franklin. [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "There is a Fountain Filled With Blood"] Smokey Robinson's assessment that she was born with her gifts fully formed doesn't seem like an exaggeration when you hear that. For the latter half of the fifties, Aretha toured with her father, performing on the gospel circuit and becoming known there. But the Franklin sisters were starting to get ideas about moving into secular music. This was largely because their family friend Sam Cooke had done just that, with "You Send Me": [Excerpt: Sam Cooke, "You Send Me"] Aretha and Erma still worshipped Cooke, and Aretha would later talk about getting dressed up just to watch Cooke appear on the TV. Their brother Cecil later said "I remember the night Sam came to sing at the Flame Show Bar in Detroit. Erma and Ree said they weren't going because they were so heartbroken that Sam had recently married. I didn't believe them. And I knew I was right when they started getting dressed about noon for the nine o'clock show. Because they were underage, they put on a ton of makeup to look older. It didn't matter 'cause Berry Gordy's sisters, Anna and Gwen, worked the photo concession down there, taking pictures of the party people. Anna was tight with Daddy and was sure to let my sisters in. She did, and they came home with stars in their eyes.” Moving from gospel to secular music still had a stigma against it in the gospel world, but Rev. Franklin had never seen secular music as sinful, and he encouraged his daughters in their ambitions. Erma was the first to go secular, forming a girl group, the Cleo-Patrettes, at the suggestion of the Four Tops, who were family friends, and recording a single for Joe Von Battle's J-V-B label, "No Other Love": [Excerpt: The Cleo-Patrettes, "No Other Love"] But the group didn't go any further, as Rev. Franklin insisted that his eldest daughter had to finish school and go to university before she could become a professional singer. Erma missed other opportunities for different reasons, though -- Berry Gordy, at this time still a jobbing songwriter, offered her a song he'd written with his sister and Roquel Davis, but Erma thought of herself as a jazz singer and didn't want to do R&B, and so "All I Could Do Was Cry" was given to Etta James instead, who had a top forty pop hit with it: [Excerpt: Etta James, "All I Could Do Was Cry"] While Erma's move into secular music was slowed by her father wanting her to have an education, there was no such pressure on Aretha, as she had already dropped out. But Aretha had a different problem -- she was very insecure, and said that church audiences "weren't critics, but worshippers", but she was worried that nightclub audiences in particular were just the kind of people who would just be looking for flaws, rather than wanting to support the performer as church audiences did. But eventually she got up the nerve to make the move. There was the possibility of her getting signed to Motown -- her brother was still best friends with Smokey Robinson, while the Gordy family were close to her father -- but Rev. Franklin had his eye on bigger things. He wanted her to be signed to Columbia, which in 1960 was the most prestigious of all the major labels. As Aretha's brother Cecil later said "He wanted Ree on Columbia, the label that recorded Mahalia Jackson, Duke Ellington, Johnny Mathis, Tony Bennett, Percy Faith, and Doris Day. Daddy said that Columbia was the biggest and best record company in the world. Leonard Bernstein recorded for Columbia." They went out to New York to see Phil Moore, a legendary vocal coach and arranger who had helped make Lena Horne and Dorothy Dandridge into stars, but Moore actually refused to take her on as a client, saying "She does not require my services. Her style has already been developed. Her style is in place. It is a unique style that, in my professional opinion, requires no alteration. It simply requires the right material. Her stage presentation is not of immediate concern. All that will come later. The immediate concern is the material that will suit her best. And the reason that concern will not be easily addressed is because I can't imagine any material that will not suit her." That last would become a problem for the next few years, but the immediate issue was to get someone at Columbia to listen to her, and Moore could help with that -- he was friends with John Hammond. Hammond is a name that's come up several times in the podcast already -- we mentioned him in the very earliest episodes, and also in episode ninety-eight, where we looked at his signing of Bob Dylan. But Hammond was a legend in the music business. He had produced sessions for Bessie Smith, had discovered Count Basie and Billie Holiday, had convinced Benny Goodman to hire Charlie Christian and Lionel Hampton, had signed Pete Seeger and the Weavers to Columbia, had organised the Spirituals to Swing concerts which we talked about in the first few episodes of this podcast, and was about to put out the first album of Robert Johnson's recordings. Of all the executives at Columbia, he was the one who had the greatest eye for talent, and the greatest understanding of Black musical culture. Moore suggested that the Franklins get Major Holley to produce a demo recording that he could get Hammond to listen to. Major Holley was a family friend, and a jazz bassist who had played with Oscar Peterson and Coleman Hawkins among others, and he put together a set of songs for Aretha that would emphasise the jazz side of her abilities, pitching her as a Dinah Washington style bluesy jazz singer. The highlight of the demo was a version of "Today I Sing the Blues", a song that had originally been recorded by Helen Humes, the singer who we last heard of recording “Be Baba Leba” with Bill Doggett: [Excerpt: Helen Humes, "Today I Sing the Blues"] That original version had been produced by Hammond, but the song had also recently been covered by Aretha's idol, Sam Cooke: [Excerpt: Sam Cooke, "Today I Sing the Blues"] Hammond was hugely impressed by the demo, and signed Aretha straight away, and got to work producing her first album. But he and Rev. Franklin had different ideas about what Aretha should do. Hammond wanted to make a fairly raw-sounding bluesy jazz album, the kind of recording he had produced with Bessie Smith or Billie Holiday, but Rev. Franklin wanted his daughter to make music that would cross over to the white pop market -- he was aiming for the same kind of audience that Nat "King" Cole or Harry Belafonte had, and he wanted her recording standards like "Over the Rainbow". This showed a lack of understanding on Rev. Franklin's part of how such crossovers actually worked at this point. As Etta James later said, "If you wanna have Black hits, you gotta understand the Black streets, you gotta work those streets and work those DJs to get airplay on Black stations... Or looking at it another way, in those days you had to get the Black audience to love the hell outta you and then hope the love would cross over to the white side. Columbia didn't know nothing 'bout crossing over.” But Hammond knew they had to make a record quickly, because Sam Cooke had been working on RCA Records, trying to get them to sign Aretha, and Rev. Franklin wanted an album out so they could start booking club dates for her, and was saying that if they didn't get one done quickly he'd take up that offer, and so they came up with a compromise set of songs which satisfied nobody, but did produce two R&B top ten hits, "Won't Be Long" and Aretha's version of "Today I Sing the Blues": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Today I Sing the Blues"] This is not to say that Aretha herself saw this as a compromise -- she later said "I have never compromised my material. Even then, I knew a good song from a bad one. And if Hammond, one of the legends of the business, didn't know how to produce a record, who does? No, the fault was with promotion." And this is something important to bear in mind as we talk about her Columbia records. Many, *many* people have presented those records as Aretha being told what to do by producers who didn't understand her art and were making her record songs that didn't fit her style. That's not what's happening with the Columbia records. Everyone actually involved said that Aretha was very involved in the choices made -- and there are some genuinely great tracks on those albums. The problem is that they're *unfocused*. Aretha was only eighteen when she signed to the label, and she loved all sorts of music -- blues, jazz, soul, standards, gospel, middle-of-the-road pop music -- and wanted to sing all those kinds of music. And she *could* sing all those kinds of music, and sing them well. But it meant the records weren't coherent. You didn't know what you were getting, and there was no artistic personality that dominated them, it was just what Aretha felt like recording. Around this time, Aretha started to think that maybe her father didn't know what he was talking about when it came to popular music success, even though she idolised him in most areas, and she turned to another figure, who would soon become both her husband and manager. Ted White. Her sister Erma, who was at that time touring with Lloyd Price, had introduced them, but in fact Aretha had first seen White years earlier, in her own house -- he had been Dinah Washington's boyfriend in the fifties, and her first sight of him had been carrying a drunk Washington out of the house after a party. In interviews with David Ritz, who wrote biographies of many major soul stars including both Aretha Franklin and Etta James, James had a lot to say about White, saying “Ted White was famous even before he got with Aretha. My boyfriend at the time, Harvey Fuqua, used to talk about him. Ted was supposed to be the slickest pimp in Detroit. When I learned that Aretha married him, I wasn't surprised. A lot of the big-time singers who we idolized as girls—like Billie Holiday and Sarah Vaughan—had pimps for boyfriends and managers. That was standard operating procedure. My own mother had made a living turning tricks. When we were getting started, that way of life was part of the music business. It was in our genes. Part of the lure of pimps was that they got us paid." She compared White to Ike Turner, saying "Ike made Tina, no doubt about it. He developed her talent. He showed her what it meant to be a performer. He got her famous. Of course, Ted White was not a performer, but he was savvy about the world. When Harvey Fuqua introduced me to him—this was the fifties, before he was with Aretha—I saw him as a super-hip extra-smooth cat. I liked him. He knew music. He knew songwriters who were writing hit songs. He had manners. Later, when I ran into him and Aretha—this was the sixties—I saw that she wasn't as shy as she used to be." White was a pimp, but he was also someone with music business experience -- he owned an unsuccessful publishing company, and also ran a chain of jukeboxes. He was also thirty, while Aretha was only eighteen. But White didn't like the people in Aretha's life at the time -- he didn't get on well with her father, and he also clashed with John Hammond. And Aretha was also annoyed at Hammond, because her sister Erma had signed to Epic, a Columbia subsidiary, and was releasing her own singles: [Excerpt: Erma Franklin, "Hello Again"] Aretha was certain that Hammond had signed Erma, even though Hammond had nothing to do with Epic Records, and Erma had actually been recommended by Lloyd Price. And Aretha, while for much of her career she would support her sister, was also terrified that her sister might have a big hit before her and leave Aretha in her shadow. Hammond was still the credited producer on Aretha's second album, The Electrifying Aretha Franklin, but his lack of say in the sessions can be shown in the choice of lead-off single. "Rock-a-Bye Your Baby With a Dixie Melody" was originally recorded by Al Jolson in 1918: [Excerpt: Al Jolson, "Rock-a-Bye Your Baby With a Dixie Melody"] Rev. Franklin pushed for the song, as he was a fan of Jolson -- Jolson, oddly, had a large Black fanbase, despite his having been a blackface performer, because he had *also* been a strong advocate of Black musicians like Cab Calloway, and the level of racism in the media of the twenties through forties was so astonishingly high that even a blackface performer could seem comparatively OK. Aretha's performance was good, but it was hardly the kind of thing that audiences were clamouring for in 1961: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Rock-a-Bye Your Baby With a Dixie Melody"] That single came out the month after _Down Beat_ magazine gave Aretha the "new-star female vocalist award", and it oddly made the pop top forty, her first record to do so, and the B-side made the R&B top ten, but for the next few years both chart success and critical acclaim eluded her. None of her next nine singles would make higher than number eighty-six on the Hot One Hundred, and none would make the R&B charts at all. After that transitional second album, she was paired with producer Bob Mersey, who was precisely the kind of white pop producer that one would expect for someone who hoped for crossover success. Mersey was the producer for many of Columbia's biggest stars at the time -- people like Barbra Streisand, Andy Williams, Julie Andrews, Patti Page, and Mel Tormé -- and it was that kind of audience that Aretha wanted to go for at this point. To give an example of the kind of thing that Mersey was doing, just the month before he started work on his first collaboration with Aretha, _The Tender, the Moving, the Swinging Aretha Franklin_, his production of Andy Williams singing "Moon River" was released: [Excerpt: Andy Williams, "Moon River"] This was the kind of audience Aretha was going for when it came to record sales – the person she compared herself to most frequently at this point was Barbra Streisand – though in live performances she was playing with a small jazz group in jazz venues, and going for the same kind of jazz-soul crossover audience as Dinah Washington or Ray Charles. The strategy seems to have been to get something like the success of her idol Sam Cooke, who could play to soul audiences but also play the Copacabana, but the problem was that Cooke had built an audience before doing that -- she hadn't. But even though she hadn't built up an audience, musicians were starting to pay attention. Ted White, who was still in touch with Dinah Washington, later said “Women are very catty. They'll see a girl who's dressed very well and they'll say, Yeah, but look at those shoes, or look at that hairdo. Aretha was the only singer I've ever known that Dinah had no negative comments about. She just stood with her mouth open when she heard Aretha sing.” The great jazz vocalist Carmen McRea went to see Aretha at the Village Vanguard in New York around this time, having heard the comparisons to Dinah Washington, and met her afterwards. She later said "Given how emotionally she sang, I expected her to have a supercharged emotional personality like Dinah. Instead, she was the shyest thing I've ever met. Would hardly look me in the eye. Didn't say more than two words. I mean, this bitch gave bashful a new meaning. Anyway, I didn't give her any advice because she didn't ask for any, but I knew goddamn well that, no matter how good she was—and she was absolutely wonderful—she'd have to make up her mind whether she wanted to be Della Reese, Dinah Washington, or Sarah Vaughan. I also had a feeling she wouldn't have minded being Leslie Uggams or Diahann Carroll. I remember thinking that if she didn't figure out who she was—and quick—she was gonna get lost in the weeds of the music biz." So musicians were listening to Aretha, even if everyone else wasn't. The Tender, the Moving, the Swinging Aretha Franklin, for example, was full of old standards like "Try a Little Tenderness": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Try a Little Tenderness"] That performance inspired Otis Redding to cut his own version of that song a few years later: [Excerpt: Otis Redding, "Try a Little Tenderness"] And it might also have inspired Aretha's friend and idol Sam Cooke to include the song in his own lounge sets. The Tender, the Moving, the Swinging Aretha Franklin also included Aretha's first original composition, but in general it wasn't a very well-received album. In 1963, the first cracks started to develop in Aretha's relationship with Ted White. According to her siblings, part of the strain was because Aretha's increasing commitment to the civil rights movement was costing her professional opportunities. Her brother Cecil later said "Ted White had complete sway over her when it came to what engagements to accept and what songs to sing. But if Daddy called and said, ‘Ree, I want you to sing for Dr. King,' she'd drop everything and do just that. I don't think Ted had objections to her support of Dr. King's cause, and he realized it would raise her visibility. But I do remember the time that there was a conflict between a big club gig and doing a benefit for Dr. King. Ted said, ‘Take the club gig. We need the money.' But Ree said, ‘Dr. King needs me more.' She defied her husband. Maybe that was the start of their marital trouble. Their thing was always troubled because it was based on each of them using the other. Whatever the case, my sister proved to be a strong soldier in the civil rights fight. That made me proud of her and it kept her relationship with Daddy from collapsing entirely." In part her increasing activism was because of her father's own increase in activity. The benefit that Cecil is talking about there is probably one in Chicago organised by Mahalia Jackson, where Aretha headlined on a bill that also included Jackson, Eartha Kitt, and the comedian Dick Gregory. That was less than a month before her father organised the Detroit Walk to Freedom, a trial run for the more famous March on Washington a few weeks later. The Detroit Walk to Freedom was run by the Detroit Council for Human Rights, which was formed by Rev. Franklin and Rev. Albert Cleage, a much more radical Black nationalist who often differed with Franklin's more moderate integrationist stance. They both worked together to organise the Walk to Freedom, but Franklin's stance predominated, as several white liberal politicians, like the Mayor of Detroit, Jerome Cavanagh, were included in the largely-Black March. It drew crowds of 125,000 people, and Dr. King called it "one of the most wonderful things that has happened in America", and it was the largest civil rights demonstration in American history up to that point. King's speech in Detroit was recorded and released on Motown Records: [Excerpt: Martin Luther King, "Original 'I Have a Dream' Speech”] He later returned to the same ideas in his more famous speech in Washington. During that civil rights spring and summer of 1963, Aretha also recorded what many think of as the best of her Columbia albums, a collection of jazz standards  called Laughing on the Outside, which included songs like "Solitude", "Ol' Man River" and "I Wanna Be Around": [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "I Wanna Be Around"] The opening track, "Skylark", was Etta James' favourite ever Aretha Franklin performance, and is regarded by many as the definitive take on the song: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Skylark"] Etta James later talked about discussing the track with the great jazz singer Sarah Vaughan, one of Aretha's early influences, who had recorded her own version of the song: "Sarah said, ‘Have you heard of this Aretha Franklin girl?' I said, ‘You heard her do “Skylark,” didn't you?' Sarah said, ‘Yes, I did, and I'm never singing that song again.” But while the album got noticed by other musicians, it didn't get much attention from the wider public. Mersey decided that a change in direction was needed, and they needed to get in someone with more of a jazz background to work with Aretha. He brought in pianist and arranger Bobby Scott, who had previously worked with people like Lester Young, and Scott said of their first meeting “My first memory of Aretha is that she wouldn't look at me when I spoke. She withdrew from the encounter in a way that intrigued me. At first I thought she was just shy—and she was—but I also felt her reading me...For all her deference to my experience and her reluctance to speak up, when she did look me in the eye, she did so with a quiet intensity before saying, ‘I like all your ideas, Mr. Scott, but please remember I do want hits.'” They started recording together, but the sides they cut wouldn't be released for a few years. Instead, Aretha and Mersey went in yet another direction. Dinah Washington died suddenly in December 1963, and given that Aretha was already being compared to Washington by almost everyone, and that Washington had been a huge influence on her, as well as having been close to both her father and her husband/manager, it made sense to go into the studio and quickly cut a tribute album, with Aretha singing Washington's hits: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Cold Cold Heart"] Unfortunately, while Washington had been wildly popular, and one of the most important figures in jazz and R&B in the forties and fifties, her style was out of date. The tribute album, titled Unforgettable, came out in February 1964, the same month that Beatlemania hit the US. Dinah Washington was the past, and trying to position Aretha as "the new Dinah Washington" would doom her to obscurity. John Hammond later said "I remember thinking that if Aretha never does another album she will be remembered for this one. No, the problem was timing. Dinah had died, and, outside the black community, interest in her had waned dramatically. Popular music was in a radical and revolutionary moment, and that moment had nothing to do with Dinah Washington, great as she was and will always be.” At this point, Columbia brought in Clyde Otis, an independent producer and songwriter who had worked with artists like Washington and Sarah Vaughan, and indeed had written one of the songs on Unforgettable, but had also worked with people like Brook Benton, who had a much more R&B audience. For example, he'd written "Baby, You Got What It Takes" for Benton and Washington to do as a duet: [Excerpt: Brook Benton and Dinah Washington, "Baby, You Got What it Takes"] In 1962, when he was working at Mercury Records before going independent, Otis had produced thirty-three of the fifty-one singles the label put out that year that had charted. Columbia had decided that they were going to position Aretha firmly in the R&B market, and assigned Otis to do just that. At first, though, Otis had no more luck with getting Aretha to sing R&B than anyone else had. He later said "Aretha, though, couldn't be deterred from her determination to beat Barbra Streisand at Barbra's own game. I kept saying, ‘Ree, you can outsing Streisand any day of the week. That's not the point. The point is to find a hit.' But that summer she just wanted straight-up ballads. She insisted that she do ‘People,' Streisand's smash. Aretha sang the hell out of it, but no one's gonna beat Barbra at her own game." But after several months of this, eventually Aretha and White came round to the idea of making an R&B record. Otis produced an album of contemporary R&B, with covers of music from the more sophisticated end of the soul market, songs like "My Guy", "Every Little Bit Hurts", and "Walk on By", along with a few new originals brought in by Otis. The title track, "Runnin' Out of Fools", became her biggest hit in three years, making number fifty-seven on the pop charts and number thirty on the R&B charts: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "Runnin' Out of Fools"] After that album, they recorded another album with Otis producing, a live-in-the-studio jazz album, but again nobody involved could agree on a style for her. By this time it was obvious that she was unhappy with Columbia and would be leaving the label soon, and they wanted to get as much material in the can as they could, so they could continue releasing material after she left. But her working relationship with Otis was deteriorating -- Otis and Ted White did not get on, Aretha and White were having their own problems, and Aretha had started just not showing up for some sessions, with nobody knowing where she was. Columbia passed her on to yet another producer, this time Bob Johnston, who had just had a hit with Patti Page, "Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte": [Excerpt: Patti Page, "Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte"] Johnston was just about to hit an incredible hot streak as a producer. At the same time as his sessions with Aretha, he was also producing Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited, and just after the sessions finished he'd go on to produce Simon & Garfunkel's Sounds of Silence album. In the next few years he would produce a run of classic Dylan albums like Blonde on Blonde, John Wesley Harding, and New Morning, Simon & Garfunkel's follow up Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme, Leonard Cohen's first three albums, and Johnny Cash's comeback with the Live at Folsom Prison album and its follow up At San Quentin. He also produced records for Marty Robbins, Flatt & Scruggs, the Byrds, and Burl Ives during that time period. But you may notice that while that's as great a run of records as any producer was putting out at the time, it has little to do with the kind of music that Aretha Franklin was making then, or would become famous with. Johnston produced a string-heavy session in which Aretha once again tried to sing old standards by people like Oscar Hammerstein and Jerome Kern. She then just didn't turn up for some more sessions, until one final session in August, when she recorded songs like "Swanee" and "You Made Me Love You". For more than a year, she didn't go into a studio. She also missed many gigs and disappeared from her family's life for periods of time. Columbia kept putting out records of things she'd already recorded, but none of them had any success at all. Many of the records she'd made for Columbia had been genuinely great -- there's a popular perception that she was being held back by a record company that forced her to sing material she didn't like, but in fact she *loved* old standards, and jazz tunes, and contemporary pop at least as much as any other kind of music. Truly great musicians tend to have extremely eclectic tastes, and Aretha Franklin was a truly great musician if anyone was. Her Columbia albums are as good as any albums in those genres put out in that time period, and she remained proud of them for the rest of her life. But that very eclecticism had meant that she hadn't established a strong identity as a performer -- everyone who heard her records knew she was a great singer, but nobody knew what "an Aretha Franklin record" really meant -- and she hadn't had a single real hit, which was the thing she wanted more than anything. All that changed when in the early hours of the morning, Jerry Wexler was at FAME Studios in Muscle Shoals recording a Wilson Pickett track -- from the timeline, it was probably the session for "Mustang Sally", which coincidentally was published by Ted White's publishing company, as Sir Mack Rice, the writer, was a neighbour of White and Franklin, and to which Aretha had made an uncredited songwriting contribution: [Excerpt: Wilson Pickett, "Mustang Sally"] Whatever the session, it wasn't going well. Percy Sledge, another Atlantic artist who recorded at Muscle Shoals, had turned up and had started winding Pickett up, telling him he sounded just like James Brown. Pickett *hated* Brown -- it seems like almost every male soul singer of the sixties hated James Brown -- and went to physically attack Sledge. Wexler got between the two men to protect his investments in them -- both were the kind of men who could easily cause some serious damage to anyone they hit -- and Pickett threw him to one side and charged at Sledge. At that moment the phone went, and Wexler yelled at the two of them to calm down so he could talk on the phone. The call was telling him that Aretha Franklin was interested in recording for Atlantic. Rev. Louise Bishop, later a Democratic politician in Pennsylvania, was at this time a broadcaster, presenting a radio gospel programme, and she knew Aretha. She'd been to see her perform, and had been astonished by Aretha's performance of a recent Otis Redding single, "Respect": [Excerpt: Otis Redding, "Respect"] Redding will, by the way, be getting his own episode in a few months' time, which is why I've not covered the making of that record here. Bishop thought that Aretha did the song even better than Redding -- something Bishop hadn't thought possible. When she got talking to Aretha after the show, she discovered that her contract with Columbia was up, and Aretha didn't really know what she was going to do -- maybe she'd start her own label or something. She hadn't been into the studio in more than a year, but she did have some songs she'd been working on. Bishop was good friends with Jerry Wexler, and she knew that he was a big fan of Aretha's, and had been saying for a while that when her contract was up he'd like to sign her. Bishop offered to make the connection, and then went back home and phoned Wexler's wife, waking her up -- it was one in the morning by this point, but Bishop was accustomed to phoning Wexler late at night when it was something important. Wexler's wife then phoned him in Muscle Shoals, and he phoned Bishop back and made the arrangements to meet up. Initially, Wexler wasn't thinking about producing Aretha himself -- this was still the period when he and the Ertegun brothers were thinking of selling Atlantic and getting out of the music business, and so while he signed her to the label he was originally going to hand her over to Jim Stewart at Stax to record, as he had with Sam and Dave. But in a baffling turn of events, Jim Stewart didn't actually want to record her, and so Wexler determined that he had better do it himself. And he didn't want to do it with slick New York musicians -- he wanted to bring out the gospel sound in her voice, and he thought the best way to do that was with musicians from what Charles Hughes refers to as "the country-soul triangle" of Nashville, Memphis, and Muscle Shoals. So he booked a week's worth of sessions at FAME studios, and got in FAME's regular rhythm section, plus a couple of musicians from American Recordings in Memphis -- Chips Moman and Spooner Oldham. Oldham's friend and songwriting partner Dan Penn came along as well -- he wasn't officially part of the session, but he was a fan of Aretha's and wasn't going to miss this. Penn had been the first person that Rick Hall, the owner of FAME, had called when Wexler had booked the studio, because Hall hadn't actually heard of Aretha Franklin up to that point, but didn't want to let Wexler know that. Penn had assured him that Aretha was one of the all-time great talents, and that she just needed the right production to become massive. As Hall put it in his autobiography, "Dan tended in those days to hate anything he didn't write, so I figured if he felt that strongly about her, then she was probably going to be a big star." Charlie Chalmers, a horn player who regularly played with these musicians, was tasked with putting together a horn section. The first song they recorded that day was one that the musicians weren't that impressed with at first. "I Never Loved a Man (the Way I Love You)" was written by a songwriter named Ronnie Shannon, who had driven from Georgia to Detroit hoping to sell his songs to Motown. He'd popped into a barber's shop where Ted White was having his hair cut to ask for directions to Motown, and White had signed him to his own publishing company and got him to write songs for Aretha. On hearing the demo, the musicians thought that the song was mediocre and a bit shapeless: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin "I Never Loved a Man (the Way I Love You) (demo)"] But everyone there was agreed that Aretha herself was spectacular. She didn't speak much to the musicians, just went to the piano and sat down and started playing, and Jerry Wexler later compared her playing to Thelonius Monk (who was indeed one of the jazz musicians who had influenced her). While Spooner Oldham had been booked to play piano, it was quickly decided to switch him to electric piano and organ, leaving the acoustic piano for Aretha to play, and she would play piano on all the sessions Wexler produced for her in future. Although while Wexler is the credited producer (and on this initial session Rick Hall at FAME is a credited co-producer), everyone involved, including Wexler, said that the musicians were taking their cues from Aretha rather than anyone else. She would outline the arrangements at the piano, and everyone else would fit in with what she was doing, coming up with head arrangements directed by her. But Wexler played a vital role in mediating between her and the musicians and engineering staff, all of whom he knew and she didn't. As Rick Hall said "After her brief introduction by Wexler, she said very little to me or anyone else in the studio other than Jerry or her husband for the rest of the day. I don't think Aretha and I ever made eye contact after our introduction, simply because we were both so totally focused on our music and consumed by what we were doing." The musicians started working on "I Never Loved a Man (the Way I Love You)", and at first found it difficult to get the groove, but then Oldham came up with an electric piano lick which everyone involved thought of as the key that unlocked the song for them: [Excerpt: Aretha Franklin, "I Never Loved a Man (the Way I Love You)"] After that, they took a break. Most of them were pleased with the track, though Rick Hall wasn't especially happy. But then Rick Hall wasn't especially happy about anything at that point. He'd always used mono for his recordings until then, but had been basically forced to install at least a two-track system by Tom Dowd, Atlantic's chief engineer, and was resentful of this imposition. During the break, Dan Penn went off to finish a song he and Spooner Oldham had been writing, which he hoped Aretha would record at the session: [Excerpt: Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham, "Do Right Woman, Do Right Man"] They had the basic structure of the song down, but hadn't quite finished the middle eight, and both Jerry Wexler and Aretha Franklin chipped in uncredited lyrical contributions -- Aretha's line was "as long as we're together baby, you'd better show some respect to me". Penn, Oldham, Chips Moman, Roger Hawkins, and Tommy Cogbill started cutting a backing track for the song, with Penn singing lead initially with the idea that Aretha would overdub her vocal. But while they were doing this, things had been going wrong with the other participants. All the FAME and American rhythm section players were white, as were Wexler, Hall, and Dowd, and Wexler had been very aware of this, and of the fact that they were recording in Alabama, where Aretha and her husband might not feel totally safe, so he'd specifically requested that the horn section at least contain some Black musicians. But Charlie Chalmers hadn't been able to get any of the Black musicians he would normally call when putting together a horn section, and had ended up with an all-white horn section as well, including one player, a trumpet player called Ken Laxton, who had a reputation as a good player but had never worked with any of the other musicians there -- he was an outsider in a group of people who regularly worked together and had a pre-existing relationship. As the two outsiders, Laxton and Ted White had, at first, bonded, and indeed had started drinking vodka together, passing a bottle between themselves, in a way that Rick Hall would normally not allow in a session -- at the time, the county the studio was in was still a dry county. But as Wexler said, “A redneck patronizing a Black man is a dangerous camaraderie,” and White and Laxton soon had a major falling out. Everyone involved tells a different story about what it was that caused them to start rowing, though it seems to have been to do with Laxton not showing the proper respect for Aretha, or even actually sexually assaulting her -- Dan Penn later said “I always heard he patted her on the butt or somethin', and what would have been wrong with that anyway?”, which says an awful lot about the attitudes of these white Southern men who thought of themselves as very progressive, and were -- for white Southern men in early 1967. Either way, White got very, very annoyed, and insisted that Laxton get fired from the session, which he was, but that still didn't satisfy White, and he stormed off to the motel, drunk and angry. The rest of them finished cutting a basic track for "Do Right Woman", but nobody was very happy with it. Oldham said later “She liked the song but hadn't had time to practice it or settle into it I remember there was Roger playing the drums and Cogbill playing the bass. And I'm on these little simplistic chords on organ, just holding chords so the song would be understood. And that was sort of where it was left. Dan had to sing the vocal, because she didn't know the song, in the wrong key for him. That's what they left with—Dan singing the wrong-key vocal and this little simplistic organ and a bass and a drum. We had a whole week to do everything—we had plenty of time—so there was no hurry to do anything in particular.” Penn was less optimistic, saying "But as I rem

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