TLS Special SNEAK PEEK Feature

The Lemonade Stand has spent so many years bringing you the best the Twilight fandom has to offer, and we are very excited to have the chance to offer you even MORE. We've watched stories grow and develop from first post through COMPLETE, and now we're lucky enough to share previews of the stories that will soon be your new addiction.

There's nothing better than finding out that two of the fandom's talented writers are collaborating on something new! This week we are excited to feature Body of Christ by Belladonna and TheFictionFreak. They recently wrapped up Hades, a love story - sort of and its companion piece Friend of the Devil. Now they've promised us a hot priest and we can't wait to get started!

banner by LizziePaige

Body of Christ by Belladonna & TheFictionFreak

Summary: She was clearly in pain. She clearly needed help. How could I deny her? How could I ignore the distress of a child of God? I couldn’t. And that was my downfall. BxE AH AU of the spiritual kind 

~~ 00 ~~

Marie: We’re supposed to write an intro.

Jo: *blank stare*

Marie: Jo?? If you don’t say something I’m just going to write sappy things about you for the next 500 words. The intro will be a love letter from me to you.

Jo: Should I tell them about your smutty story?

Marie: *blushing* Please don’t. Yet. Tell them about our hot priest.

Jo: Fine. So, we got to talking about the show Fleabag one night. And there’s this hot priest played by Andrew Scott (you can imagine how that conversation went: Marie… Jo… MARIE… JO!) … and well, how could we not write Twilight fanfiction about this?

Marie: There are lots of reasons NOT to write Twilight fanfiction about this. #1: My mom’s Catholic, for Christ’s sake. But Jo’s persuasive, and maybe just a little in love with Andrew Scott.

Jo: A lot. I’m a lot in love with him.

Marie: Anyway… Jo shared a particularly scandalous piece of random writing with me on a cold January morning, and well, I was in. I couldn’t say no. I LOVE writing about things that make me uncomfortable. And things that are, well, hot. This covered both bases.

Jo: Plus we get to give Edward an HEA this time.

Marie: But will his HEA involve following his life’s calling? I mean, being a priest could maybe make him happy, right? Or is his HEA walking away from his vows?

Jo: One never knows! Also, I suppose we should mention we’re not killing Jake this time, Jake lovers.

Marie: Jo made me promise not to kill Jake. I love killing Jake, but I love Jo more. Also, I kinda love this Jake. I know. Weird. Next thing you know pigs will be flying. Reality show hosts will be President.

Jo: Marie……. *whispers* back on topic...

Marie: Sorry. We should really be talking about the fic. What do you think we should tease?

Jo: I think I know.

~~ 00 ~~

“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It’s been a very long time since my last confession.”

Her voice is low but confident. Straight to the point.

And a bit harsh.

It’s actually quite normal for someone who’s been absent from church for an extended period of time to be nervous their first time back but there’s something else here.

Something that piques my curiosity. Something in her tone.

She’s certainly not the first person I’ve wondered about. I tend to do this a lot. Try and pinpoint the underlying emotions this confessional witnesses.

I’ve been a priest of the Catholic church for four years now. I’ve had my own congregation for one. I don’t have the experience that some of my elders do. They find confessions to be more of a necessary task than assistance for the downtrodden. They’ve grown immune to the empathy it requires. People require. People need.

I, however, often still find the reasons behind someone’s absence from church intriguing. I also find their reasons for coming back equally compelling. I like to understand the before so that I can help them with the after. It’s what I do after all. Help. It’s my calling.

Some members of the church struggle with their sins, some, not so much.

Sometimes it’s a whisper, a subtlety to their words, or the way they deliver them, that tells me they need assistance in more ways than just a standard prayer asking for forgiveness.

This one, despite the simple words of her memorized statement… is screaming for it.

“May the body of Christ be-”

“I’d like to preface this confession with the fact that I am here because my mother guilted me into it and not because I think I need any absolving whatsoever for anything I’ve done with my own life.”

Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m quiet because I’m stunned into silence or because I’m waiting to see if she’s finished her thought.

“And if I may, it’s only slightly creepy to make someone sit in a dark, dank box and confess their secrets. I mean, what’s the purpose anyway? If we wanted you to know them, they wouldn’t be secrets. Right?”

So, the latter then.

I wait.

“Hello?” She’s agitated.

“Sorry. I didn’t know if you were done.”

She hesitates but then gives me a short, “I’m done.” And I can almost envision here there, stubborn, crossed arms and all.

“Okay, first of all, please know, no one’s forcing you to be here.”

“Ha!”

“And secondly, the dark, dank box is a metaphor. I like to think of it as a place where people generally like to keep their sins. Where others won’t see. Or hear.”

She’s quiet again after that. So I continue.

“It’s there to make you more comfortable with confessing your secrets. But, if you’d like, we can take this out into the light of day, so to speak, for the entire congregation to hear you. I’m open to anything.”

“Um.”

I smile. And I admit, I enjoy stunning her into her own silence. I’m a bit competitive that way.

I also like to let others hear their own words so they can feel the impact of those words.

“Hello?”

A pin could drop for the next few moments. I’m pretty sure I hear her swallow.

Anyone who’s spent the past year getting used to my practices as a priest knows I have only the best intentions in making light of this holy custom. But she doesn’t. How could she? She hasn’t stepped foot inside these walls the entire year.

I’m one hundred percent certain I would have noticed.

The dead air eventually leads me to believe that I may have overstepped. Embarrassed her. Changed her mind about being here.

Damn. This is my fault.

“Go with God,” I tell her as I stand to leave and consider my sarcasm going forward.

My hand is on the knob, mid-turn when I hear her again. The door is nearly open.

“I kissed my sister’s fiance,” she blurts out.

And the way she says it tells me there's a lot more to the story than that.

So I sit my ass back down, prepared to listen to everything she has to say.

~~ 00 ~~

We're planning on posting the prologue on Monday, then weekly chapters beginning Friday, January 17th. Hope to see you there!


Don't forget to add Belladonna and TheFictionFreak so you can follow along with us!