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What's been going on in my world this week?

A new release: Fire Storm, a fiery, shapeshifting anthology from Changeling Press. Twelve smokin' stories for $5.99, and all proceeds go to disaster relief funds.

Packing Heat Episode 26- I run through an assignment about worldbuilding, and how to make it invisible. Then I talk about writers' guilt...which seems like it's going to run into several weeks, 'cos we're all so good at feeling guilty. This week focuses on writing vs. social obligations.

Some PsyCop Blog posts: Spam blasting, and climbing up the Erotic Horror bestseller list at Amazon.

The first winner of the PsyCop paperback set will be announced on September 30. Was it you? Did you open my newsletter and look, or will you forfeit your free books?

Here's a taste of my story, Fire Thief, to whet your whistle. (Or is that wet?)

Rat traps. A great big box of them. It was the last thing I saw before the guy in purple shoved me into the janitor’s closet and pulled the door shut behind him.

“Is there a light in here?” The thought of a rat climbing up my legs with its pointy little toenails and its wormy tail dragging along my thigh was a real buzzkill.

“We don’t need a light.”

“But there might be rats.”

“If there were rats in here, I’d know it.” He pressed himself into my back and slipped his hands around my waist. One hand slid up. His fingertips brushed over my nipple through my T-shirt. The other moved south, worked my nuts right through my jeans. I turned around to face him, got a handful of his ridiculous boa coat, and did my best not to think about the skittering of tiny paws.

“Besides,” he said, “it’s easier to focus on what we’re feeling without the distraction of light.”

I beg to differ. When I score with someone who looks like he does, I want to see it. I opened my mouth to say so, but his mouth covered mine, off-center at first, then sliding into place. His lips parted my lips. His tongue glided over my tongue. I tasted like beer. Him, vodka tonics.

His crotch bumped against mine.

He gave a little groan and nudged me between the legs with his bulge. It was a great bulge. I kissed him back and slipped my hands under his coat so I could cup his ass two-handed.

He worked his fingers under my T-shirt. I let go of his ass so I could raise my arms to let him get it over my head. The purple boa coat was fuzzy against my chest, and distinctly not rat-like. It brushed my nipples as he moved against me. I arched my body into his. My elbow eased back onto the industrial shelving and caused something to shift and clatter. I groped behind me, felt the squat glass shapes. Cheap, heavy-bottomed restaurant candles, the kind they had on the tables out by the bar.

“We could light a candle,” I said. I figured he might go for that instead of the overhead light.

“Didn’t your elders teach you never to play with fire?”

“I dunno. I probably wouldn’t have listened, anyway. I have this problem with authority figures.”

He pulled my hand away from the candles and pressed my palm to his mouth. I tried to picture his face as my hand covered his lips and brushed his nose. The bar was crowded, but he’d stood out -- and not just because of the giant purple boa coat that would’ve made anyone else look like a frickin’ puppet, but not him. No, he looked like a glam god who’d stepped down off a black light poster from 1975.

His tongue, hot and wet, crossed my palm. I shivered. He’d been beautiful. Even under all that makeup -- glitter and black lipstick and false eyelashes -- I could tell. Even if I’d scrubbed him clean, everyone would’ve still stopped and stared when he walked into the room.

I was guessing he didn’t give a rat’s ass about how pretty he was. He was out to make a statement.

He was doing a pretty good job of it.

“C’mon,” I said. “You didn’t get all dolled up for nothing.” I squeezed a hand between us and pulled a lighter out of my front pocket.

His hand closed over mine, and he worked the lighter free. Plastic clattered to the floor. “Man was never meant to have fire.”


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Sep. 28th, 2008 06:17 pm (UTC)
Just finished Fire Thief
Excellent as always.
Good meat, bad meat or flame... that is the question.
Sep. 28th, 2008 07:02 pm (UTC)
I was baffled by your comment, since I haven't read the story since I sent it off for the project a couple of months ago. Ha! It was nice being able to write a couple of characters with educations. For a change. (Seven years of undergrad -- whee, I crack myself up sometimes.)

Thanks so much :D
Sep. 28th, 2008 07:07 pm (UTC)
I can see that happening and I'm glad I baffled ;o)
I loved the mythology in it.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

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