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New Story and an interview!

I have a new story in the Fresh off the Vine newsletter, plus an interview! Here's a teaser:
Martin stared at his phone as it rang. It seemed ridiculous to be scared of something as benign as a phone. After all, what was a phone? Just a piece of plastic. Some circuitry, some wires.

Another ring echoed through the apartment. He regretted giving his number to that guy in the book store. He should have just made one up. That guy was all wrong for him: too jockish, too...Martin didn't know. He looked for a certain "something" in the men he dated. The bookstore guy didn't have it.

The phone stopped ringing. Martin sighed and turned back to his magazine: an issue of Eerie from 1975 that he'd emancipated from its plastic sheath for the afternoon. The phone rang again.

"What?" Martin said into the handset. Because the only person who did that annoying hang-up-and-call-back thing was Bill. A phone call from Bill didn't count as a phone call from a guy, because Bill was Martin's best friend. And besides, Bill looked like Peter Pan. Martin's idea of fantasy material was more like Captain Hook. Or Vincent Price. Or Dracula.

"Pretending you're not home?" said Bill. Martin had known Bill since high school and didn't need to be looking at him to know he was grinning ear to ear. "Where else would you be? Unless you've met someone and you didn't bother to tell me about it."

"No."

"No, you haven't been swept off your feet by mister tall, dark and studly? Or no, you just haven't told me about it?"

Martin smiled a little, despite himself. "When I meet someone, you'll be the first to know."

"That's right, Dahling. I will. Because you're meeting him tonight, thanks to me."

"Bill--"

"It'll be perfect. I know how much you love all that cheesy, spooky, bump in the night stuff. So we're meeting at that haunted house downtown. You know, the one it's, like, impossible to score tickets to?"

Night Terrors. Martin had been scouring the want ads for weeks in hopes of finding someone selling off a ticket to the sold-out event. "But I--"

"He's totally your type. Dark-haired and pale, intense eyes, handsome. Kind of like you."

Martin closed his eyes and wished he'd never told Bill about his crush on Edward Scissorhands, since Bill obviously thought it was really Johnny Depp underneath all the makeup that Martin had been ogling. It wasn't.

Click for more
And my interview is here.

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