Cardeno C.'s Blog, page 131

Sunday Flash Fiction - Two Men and a Baby

(Two men, an abandoned village, and a baby. I hope you enjoy today's flash ficlet. Happy Sunday and happy reading, love Ellis)
Tyler hadn't understood much when he'd come out of the dilapidated house and stared into those adorable brown eyes, but right then he’d given his heart away. "Who do you belong to?" he whispered to the muslin-wrapped baby. The nothing that it weighed was immense.
"Tyler." Aiden Velise, the reporter who'd followed his team on the trip, came tromping across the pitted, potholed road. His clothes and mop of blond hair were disheveled, the look on his face weary and full of hate. The ride to the hospital had gone badly.
Tyler tucked the baby under his arm as Aiden approached. "She didn’t make it? I'm sorry."
Aiden's frown deepened. "You have a baby."
Tyler couldn't help but smile down at the quiet, wide-eyed little thing. "I have a baby." He pointed toward the direction Aiden had come from. "Do you have bottled water? He seems okay, but I should hydrate him. And it would be good to find a store that sells formula."
The look on Aiden's face suggested Tyler had gone insane. This from the man who followed animal researchers through the wild for a very poor living. “Shouldn’t we be finding his parents?"
Tyler's molars slid over each other with maddening intensity as he gestured around the empty, broken-down village. He jabbed a finger at the last house he'd searched while Aiden and Terri were gone to the hospital. "I found him on the step of that house after I'd already gone in. Option 'A' is that he belonged to one of the poachers we ran off. Option 'B' is he belonged to one of the villagers the poachers killed. Maybe that poor woman who was dying in the field when we arrived. Either way, that someone left him on the step for the 'nice American' to find...’" Tyler simultaneously made air quotes with one hand and drew the child closer to his chest with the other. He gave Aiden a pointed look.
Understanding dawned. "So the parents aren't coming back," Aiden finished for him.
"No," Tyler said. "I highly doubt it." He would probably have to turn the kid in to someone, at some point. Best not to get attached. But he couldn't stop himself from rubbing his cheek against the baby's soft skin, and was gratified by a rooting response and some whimpering. The little one had been so quiet.
Tyler's research partner, Terri, waved to them from up the path. Aiden waved back. "All right then," Aiden said. "Let's get the kid some food."
*
"You're very good with him," Terri said over Tyler's shoulder. With one hand he helped the baby drink a bottle, with the other he fastened a diaper.
They'd found a roadside shop that sold diapers and formula. Good gravy, talk about ka-ching. In the states diapers came in massive cases for comparatively minimal amounts of money. Here, it was the exact opposite. And the formula? Hell, the kid spit most of it up. Tyler couldn't remember how much was normal.
He masked his anxieties with a smile and looked over his shoulder to where Aiden was setting up camp. "Aiden? Nah. He's cranky but he manages himself just fine."
Terri laughed and sat next to Tyler on the wooden picnic table, which didn't sit evenly on the ground. The whole thing creaked and rocked. "I'm just surprised. I would never have pictured you with a baby. I've seen you photograph tigers. I've seen you chase poachers through the tall grass."
Tyler smiled, more at the baby than at Terri. "I was the oldest of seven." Once finished with the diaper, he pulled the little one back into the crook of his arm. "I could do this in my sleep. I probably have done it in my sleep."
She cocked her head to the side. "Huh. All this time we've spent together, you never mentioned siblings."
"No reason to." He shrugged slightly, not wanting to disturb the baby, now sleepy from his bottle. "I haven't seen any of them in about twenty years. "When I came out they took the whole 'tough love, get out of our home' approach. Told the sibs not to speak to me."
Terri looked up. A footstep scuffed in the dirt behind Tyler.
"Just when I think I'm getting to know you," said Aiden.
Tyler smiled at him. Dusk had fallen and the play of light and shadow sharpened his already handsome features. "It was a long time ago."
Aiden nodded, smiling sadly. "I could use some help with the tents. Holding up the poles." He gestured with his hands. "Kind of a two-person job."
Tyler turned to his partner. "Terri, would you--"
"How about I hold the cute sleeping baby, while you big strong men set up the tent?" She reached toward him.
He hesitated.
"Oh please, I'll give him back," she chuckled. "My cat would disown me if I brought home another person."
Tyler forced himself to let go, and walked beside Aiden to the tents.
*
Tyler stamped the last stake into the ground with his boot, trying to ignore the looks Aiden cast his way. "Okay, what?" he asked finally.
Aiden smiled and shrugged vaguely. "You keep surprising me."
Tyler came around to the front of the large tent, zipping the flaps to keep insects out. "Yeah. I get that a lot." He stood again, ready to turn back toward the eating area.
"Yeah," Aiden continued, unaware that Tyler was ready to end the conversation. "I remember the first time I saw you take your shirt off. Those full-sleeve tattoos." He shook his head. "No foolin' around, Dr. Stephenson. I thought you were just a loner nerd, turns out you're a loner nerd with MMA training, tattoos, an estranged family, and a secret fondness for babies."
Aiden's expression was tough to read in the near dark, but Tyler bristled at the odd tone and what he interpreted as a hint of judgment. "I'm not sure how any of that is any of your business."
"The child. What's going to be done about him? Does finding a place for him not become an issue for all of us?"
"No." Tyler's chest burned. "You have your return ticket. The poachers have gone, I doubt they'll be back since we didn’t find any tigers. You're free to head home anytime. I will stay and sort things out with the baby."
"You want to keep him, don't you?"
"No." Yes.  Very much. Tyler was thirty-five. Single. Ready to settle down. He'd just been offered a very nice position with the National Zoo. Why not?
"Well anyway..." Aiden drew closer. "I find what you're doing admirable, but in a way it's too bad." Not quite nose to nose, the curve of Aiden's smile was just visible in the dark. "I have to confess, I'd been hoping that if it was all-quiet tonight, maybe I could finally make a pass at you."
Oh. Tyler's face heated.
"We're going back in a few days," Aiden continued. "I figured if it got weird, I'm returning to DC and you're heading back to Philly. No need to make it awkward. No strings."
Their hips pressed in the dark. The hum and throb of Tyler's body betrayed his logical brain's resistance. "I'm...actually transferring to the zoo in Washington DC soon,” Tyler said. “Species Survival Program."
"Really." Aiden's palm burned Tyler's shoulder. "That's fantastic."
It was?
"In that case, why don't I stick around? See if I can't help you with your baby situation."
Tyler turned in surprise. Their lips brushed. "You said no strings."
"But this is even better. Friends. Maybe more. We'll see where it goes. Could be fun. Huh?"
"Aiden, I do want to keep him."
"I know."
Their lips brushed again, and when Aiden's tongue slipped into Tyler's mouth, Tyler met the kiss with equal passion. The kiss was not friendly. Not at all.
Tyler didn't care. "Fun. Okay." He could do fun. And he was thirty-five, single, ready to settle down. Why not? They held hands as they walked back to Terri and the baby.
Find out more at EllisCarrington.com

Cheating: A Sticky Issue in Romance Fiction – Part One – By BG Thomas

So first, a quick apology. It’s been a month since I posted. A lot was going on. My anniversary with my husband (12 years!).  Going to CA to spend Thanksgiving with his family and we got to go to San Francisco for two days! His first time and for me the first time in about 13 years. My husband’s birthday. NaNoWriMo (I made the 50k and the novel will be finished in the next day or so). And more. Plus I am wigged out about my impending surgery to get a knee replacement on Dec 10th (send me healing energy?).
No excuses. Just an apology.
And now on to the meat of a situation that I am HOPING gets me some input to understand a sticky situation in Romance Literature. And that is the subject of cheating.
I can say one thing, it will get you some bad (and I mean major bad) reviews every time if one of your character cheats or does something a reader considers cheating in any way whatsoever. It seems to be the anathama in romance, no matter what. There doesn’t seem to be a situation where it is permitted, unless the cheater is the villian. Once a cheater, always a cheater in many a romance reader’s mind.
Even in a situation where the story is about redemption, about someone making a mistake that he is deeply sorry for committing and wants nothing more than to make up for it.
The cheating can be the result of many a Real Life event. Maybe he was weak. Perhaps he was hurt and having revenge sex. Hell, I remember a soap opera I saw a thousand years ago when I was in college where two people are stranded in a snow storm in a cabin and wind up having sex. Seems in M/M romance, a hell of a lot of readers would not only be unforgiving of the two character’s mistake, but might hold the grudge on the writer as well. A hero isn’t permitted to have sex with anyone but his lover even if he’s stranded for ten years on a deserted island.
Now what the hell is this about?
Cheating happens. It is a part of life. It is a part of being in a relationship. In my research I found that estimates that between 20 to 60% of couples will fall into infidelity at some point during the relationship. Many sites argued that those numbers are on the conservative side. Some put it at around 20-20%. The trouble on getting an accurate count is that very few people are willing to admit their adultery.
The statistics I found for gay couples was alarming, reporting that at least 29% cheated, and the book “Sex in America: A Definitive Survey,” by Michael, Gagnon, Laumann, and Kolata cited that in couples they studied, and who had been together 1 to 37 years, 100% of all the couples experienced infidelity within the first 5 years and that couples who made it past 10 years did so only by accepting the reality of infidelity in their relationships.
Wow! Even I was surprised. Not very romantic, huh?


So the fact is, in the real world, people cheat for one reason or another. Sometimes it’s just because they’re a scum ball. I would never say that about my cheating ex-husband of many years ago, because he’s not here to speak for himself. But sometimes the cheating happens because the person is just a jerk. But there are tons and tons and tons of other reasons. I know of someone that I think is a great guy, and he cheats for several reasons, the major one being that his partner of many years is pretty much unable to have sex and refuses to allow them to have an open relationship.
Sometimes it just happens, when it was the last thing they ever wanted. They were going through a really bad patch, they weren’t having sex, they were spending too much time apart, loneliness became a huge issue, and then one day it the right (or wrong) circumstance led up to infidelity. Say one partner was out of town and the one left at home was feeling desperate and ugly and unattractive and horribly lonely and then some stunning hot stud at a bar just started being nice to them. Before he knew it, he’s laying there in bed after sex asking himself, “What the fuck did I just do?”
SO! I ask myself as a writer, isn’t all this incredibly fertile ground for some great stories? The biggest ones being how a couple deal with this and come together in forgiveness and pull themselves through stronger and better than ever? I’ve asked gay couples who’ve been together for decades how they did it. The biggest answer? Forgiveness.


I was asking a close friend about all this and was surprised that despite all I have said above, she said that when she read a romance she doesn’t want reality. She lives in reality every day. When she reads romance, she wants it practically sugary sweet, where both men fall in love and could never consider anything but monogamy.

Here is my guess on the big reason why readers don’t like cheating in their romance stories.
I see through statistics and by simple looking at my friends and acquaintances, gay and straight, that for whatever reason, a lot of people have been cheated on. I was. My first long term lover cheated on me so much he should have installed a revolving door to replace our front door. He cheated hundreds of times and I stupidly kept forgiving him, thinking that one day he would change. "He’s a good man," I would cry. "He just has this problem and he’s trying to get better. Marraige means for better or for worse, not just for better. If I ride this out, he will finally stop cheating on me and we will survive!"
He never stopped and I finally realized I would rather live in a cardboard box in an alley than live with him one more minute. I gave him the boot.
So for those who have been cheated on and deeply hurt? I understand. Trust me.
However, my intial forgiveness of my ex’s cheating? It wasn’t because I was a sap. Nope. It was because I understood he was human. And as humans we make mistakes. I’ve been tempted. I was on a campout with 120 gay men and my husband wasn’t there. I was feeling sad and lonely, I was deeply depressed because of my job. This beautiful young man started talking to me. He was smart and emotional and energtic and passionate about life. We conntected on many levels. Then I suddenly realized that we had a mutual attraction going on. This thin, stunning man, twenty years my junior, wanted me. And I wanted him.
I managed to resist. We didn’t cheat. But Lord I wonder what might have happened had a had a few glasses of wine or beer under my belt?
Was my attraction to this man because I am a scum sucker? No. I am a good man. A very good man. But I was tempted.
Would my husband have left me if I had played around with this guy? No. We love each other deeply and are commited to making our relationship work. I told him the instant he arrived at camp two days later what had happened and he told me there was nothing even to forgive.
A lot to think about…
And in Part Two of this…I’ll get back to cheating in fiction and romance fiction. I hope to hear back from you on this! It will certainly guide what I write about in the future!
Namaste,BG Thomas

Woot! (T.C. Blue is being a git. Again!)

So here I am, with nothing to say. As usual. Also as usual, I expect to say absolutely nothing with as many words as possible. I'm kinda like a tea-partier or possibly a far-far-wacky fundie that way. (I have an odd skill which translates to never using 4 words when I can use 40 instead. This is a true fact. Some people might say "I don't know," whereas it's not unheard of for ME to say "I may or may not have knowledge of this, but if I do, I'm currently unaware of it." Seriously. I'm kinda nuts like that. In other ways, too, but that's not the point. :P)

So in my pursuit of saying nothing of any great import whilst using the largest number of words possible, I've decided to share a bit about the week since last we met. (That would be last Thursday, for those who don't follow me on Twitter... and if you don't, why not? *pouts* How mean is that to me? I LIKE followers! I even like following when people ask and stuff, so... follow me! *tries to look like she's not begging because begging is just pathetic... unless there's nudity and 18+ activity in process, which makes begging less pathetic and more fun*)

In an effort to provide full disclosure, this Sunday-past (December 9th) was my birthday, and in typical T.C. Blue fashion, I chose to celebrate in what may seem like a unique fashion. On Friday, I went to my darling LGBF's (local gay boyfriend's) house to cook for an assortment of people. Aaaaand... this requires some backstory.

Okay, amongst my many different professional occupations, I was a chef for a while. I gave it up when the restaurant I was working for went the way of the dodo, back in 2009(ish), and that was a good thing. See, when you're head chef, you're on salary, and that means you end up working anywhere from 60 to 75 hours a week. After a number of years doing this, I was somewhat burned out. After a few years, though, I feel good about cooking again. Not to the point that i want to do it all the time, but good enough that I do get the urge on a fairly regular basis. So the week before Thanksgiving, I suggested to my LGBF, Josh, that I might want to swing by his place and cook dinner. As he's not a moron, he was on board with that idea. *grins*

So off I went to the wilds of Alexandria, Virginia (I live maybe 20 miles away in Maryland, so not as much of a trip as I make it seem), and he let me cook in the beautiful kitchen of the house he and his honey share there. They have an amazing kitchen! I LOVE their kitchen! I made shrimp cocktail (with 16/20 count shrimp), followed by 11/15 count shrimp (these are enormous!) with asparagus and  pasta in a sauce od XVO (extra virgin olive oil), garlic, white wine and lemon juice. Josh's friend Michael, who is fabulous, stopped by and joined us, as did Melissa, Josh's neighbor. A good time was had by all.

Now, fast forward to this past Friday. *hee*

Most people probably don't want to cook for others on their own birthday, but as my apartment is tiny, with a barely-usable stove, I was psyched about the idea. So off I went to the wilds of Virginia (again), and this time I made lavender chicken. (Lavender chicken is amazing, and I don't even like chicken. It's got lavender, garlic, shallots, butter, and several other seasonings that the chicken is roasted with. Maybe I'll do a recipe post some time. Haha! :P)

We added a new (to me) friend, this time, who was another friend of the LGBF's, and that was awesome, too. She brought a cake though we were too stuffed to eat any of it! So there was lavender chicken, roasted carrots and potatoes, and sauteed mushrooms cooked with garlic, lemon and beer! *bounces* It was so much fun to cook for people again!

Yes. We had a kiki. And our kiki was MARVELOUS! *grins*

After the feasting portion of the evening was done, Josh, Melissa, Michael and I all went out to a local club. Michael needed to leave shortly after because he had to work in the morning (boo-hiss for work interfering with fun!), and I may or may not have decided to sing karaoke. O_o (It was Friday night, so they were only allowing upbeat songs, which was something of an issue for me as I'm more drawn to ballads about love gone wrong. Still, I managed. I may or may not have yowled my way through "Love is a Battlefield" and "You Oughta Know". Just sayin'.)

We closed the place down. Meaning last call had come and gone by the time we headed back to the LGBF's place.

I neded up passing out on the couch after an extended chat with Melissa -- out on the balcony because that's the smoking section at Josh's place (and I don't blame him because that house is fucking beautiful and I wouldn't want it stinking of smoke if it were mine, either... not even my own smoke). He offered me the spare bedroom, so please don't think it was anything but my own decision to be on the couch! It was entirely me because I didn't think I was that tired. Oh, alcohol. LOL

So the point of all this is that today I'm going over to Josh's again. I'm going to cook for him, me, and his honey. There will likely be club-going afterwards, too. I expect that I'll take them up on that gust bedroom this time. Then the LGBF and his guy will be travelling during their free time until probably this time next month.

Maybe I should be pouty and sad because I won't see them until then (after today, I mean), and I guess I am, a little. But I had the best fucking birthday I've had in ages, even if it wasn't on the actual day, and I have to say I'm excited to hear all about their adventures when the holiday travel-season has passed. *grins*

Now I just need to figure out a menu for dinner. I WAS thinking steak, but it's gotten more chilly here now, so maybe... braised beef short ribs with homemade macaroni and cheese? I would ordinarily throw some peas in there, ut I think the LGBF hates peas, so... maybe some sliced asparagus instead? (Again, there might be a recipe post coming soon. If there's any interest.)

So that's my giant post in which I've said nothing of any great import. *grins* Thanks for stopping by. More random craziness next week!

Retro Ads - Wrap Up a Bit of Creepy This Holiday Season! by Kiernan Kelly

We've been inundated since Labor Day with ads for holiday gifts, everything from toys to holiday music CDs. It seems like the holiday season starts earlier and earlier every year. By the time the holidays roll around, I'm actually sick to death of tinsel and holly, and if I hear "Santa Baby" one more time, my head may actually explode.

So, as a bit of a break from the mad rush of the holiday season, I bring you a glimpse of the fabulous ads of Christmas past. It never fails to amaze me how companies managed to actually stay in business years ago with ads like these.




What should we get the kids for Christmas, hon? Oh, I know...deadly weapons. Perfect!



Oh, I do love coffee with just a hint of spousal abuse!

 Oh, my gosh! Really, you shouldn't have. No, I mean it. You shouldn't have. You might as well fill my stocking with a great big, heaping helping of lung cancer.

 Oh, yes! It's the perfect size for stashing the body.
 Why do I get the feeling Santa is about to boost that car?

I always suspected Santa was a bit of  a perv.
 Is there anyone who doubts that log is a substitute for wood of a different kind?
 I don't even know what to say about this except, dude, get some help, okay?
 Grown men in their underwear and slippers playing with trains. 'Nuff said.



Ooh...creepy flying, fuzzy, flaming balls. Yum.
 Because nothing says "Christmas" like a small child playing with a loaded weapon.

 Oh, honey, just what I always wanted! Melanoma, wrapped up in a pretty bow!

 Just what every wife wants for the holiday...more work.
 Giving a fucking scale for Christmas is a sure fire way to start the New Year off with a divorce.
Because who doesn't want to find a decapitated head under their tree?
Okay, not technically a holiday ad, but I had to include it. I just HAD to.

Well, gosh, I don't know which to pick! A toaster? A can opener? A mixer? Santa, I want them all!


Only if "Hoover" is the name of a six-foot male exotic dancer.

Nope, not creepy at all.

Tweets by Cardeno C.

Happy Monday, y'all. Another week has passed and, as per my usual, I'm too dull to come up with something to say. How do you feel about reading the past week's tweets? Excellent, that's what I'll do. But first, please visit Joyfully Jay and leave a comment here to win a copy of Eight Days, my holiday novella.

Am I allowed to laugh at this? https://t.co/5UgheviB Dec 09, 2012 

Y'all even if I wasn't a vegetarian, I'd think this was more than a little ick. http://t.co/Ya9PoB3A Dec 09, 2012 

Naked Santa just seems wrong. And is Rudolph checking him out? Who is setting up these store displays? http://t.co/mhGPXzoM Dec 08, 2012 

Just left Starbucks with two large drinks. The night is just getting started ... Dec 08, 2012 

Suggestion to the person answering the phone at the bank, "How can I service you?" is really asking for a non-banking reply. Dec 07, 2012 

Such a nice review of Eight Days! Thank you. RT @melaniemarsha10: Review of Eight Days by Cardeno C http://t.co/DSuqA0Zz Dec 07, 2012 

How long does it take for a burnt tongue to heal? I got this new cup at Starbucks and when they say it keeps drinks hot, they ain't kidding. Dec 06, 2012 


Well, this is one way to incentivize exercise: http://t.co/qqgAqq9q. Dec 05, 2012 

Bought a lotta ticket along with my morning diet coke. I'm pretty sure I've got this one!! Dec 05, 2012 

I officially have a crush on Jay Z: http://t.co/45jVlzxH. Dec 05, 2012 

Y'all, I love a drive through more than the average bear, but drive through prayer? Dec 05, 2012 


@jentay82 @SueChicago1021 I haven't ventured into tumblr yet. Other than the porn, of course. Dec 04, 2012 


The times in life when I feel most clueless & at someone's mercy are when car service people tell me about a "needed" repair. Dec 04, 2012 

Musa Publishing is hiring! Super nice people over there. http://t.co/2LiCvtej Dec 04, 2012 

@erinscafe I only understand about 60% of what my mom says via text. A sibling once sent a group text and our mom was frantic & confused. Dec 04, 2012 

I gathered my nerves and read reviews at GR. I won't respond to reviews but: 1. If John is reading this, thank you. 2. Natalie, I'm honored. Dec 04, 2012 

Note to self: reconsider writing post-exercise I like your sweaty scent scenes. Dec 03, 2012 

Him: I walked by that guy I hooked up with. Me: did you say hi? Him: I ignored him. Me: meany. Him: I only knew him for 30 min. Me: poor him Dec 03, 2012 


I hope you have a fabulous week. (Oh, and should I add Facebook posts to these updates or are they painful enough as is?)
CC
www.cardenoc.com

Flash Fiction Sunday--The Vampire Operation

By Ellis Carrington

(I've got a short flash piece with shades of futuristic, steampunk, paranormalish-ness going on. Hope you enjoy.)


"I'll miss you, Sandy," Robert whispered. The bitter cold of the stone bench seeped through his clothing as he sat by his sister’s grave. He pulled his coat tighter, his fist curled around the vial of nanites. "I'll finish the work we started. I swear. And the bastards who killed you will get what they deserve."
With a final touch to the top of her small headstone he pushed away, casting his gaze around in the dark to be sure he hadn't been followed. The vial, he shoved deep into the pocket of his pants. He fished leather gloves from his wool coat, a gift from Justin, and slipped them on as he strode briskly down the cobblestone walkway. In his hurry, he nearly tripped over one of the little gardening bots that kept the grounds tidy at night.
He whispered a prayer of gratitude that their parents had left them with enough money to put Sandy in a real cemetery with real grass. Not everyone was so lucky. Hell, when Sherriff Elliott's band of goons got hold of you, a burial wasn't guaranteed at all. In a way, Sandy had been blessed, the way she’d died.
Robert was the one stuck here in hell.
"He's due to arrive at midnight. We'll have to make the transfer happen fast before he comes out of torpor."
Robert froze behind a large, sculpted shrub. That voice. He knew that voice. Intimately. Had heard that very same rumble, deeper and gasping, hundreds of times. Laughing. Talking. Begging Robert to spank him hard and to fuck him even harder. Justin.
How long had it been, a week? Robert  still seethed from Justin’s betrayal.
"What about the drug? Can we not keep him sedated until we transport him to the lab?" And that oily, twangy sound was the voice of Sheriff Elliott.
Justin and Sheriff Elliott. What in God's name. All that time Justin was acting strangely, Robert had suspected an affair. Dear God, from the sounds of things it was far more sinister.
"The drugs will only work for so long. We'll need to get the nanites working on him quickly. If they can't replicate his DNA in a speedy fashion, we'll be screwed. He'll be awake and hungry, and we'll all be in the line of fire."
Robert sucked in a breath. Holy hell. Torpor. They spoke of the newly-discovered vampire. The break-in at his lab. The stolen vials. Justin’s betrayal had been more than just cheating. All this time, had his lover only been using him to get his hands on Robert's research? To what?...replicate the last remaining vampire?!
Robert felt at his hip for the knife clipped there and prepared to follow the two men. He could not allow such an atrocity. *The harbor was dark and quiet. Robert could not believe the lack of personnel. Keeping whatever they were up to quiet was all well and good, but if they were truly doing what it sounded like they were doing, this was downright stupid.
A massive, nondescript crate moved slowly down from the ship.
“Let’s be careful everyone,” Justin cautioned.
Robert studied the man’s profile from his hiding place behind a storage building and found it hard to ignore the handsome play of shadows thrown from a nearby gaslight. Gorgeous. With his jet black hair, patrician features, and confident build, the man was a beauty to behold even as he prepared to unleash a terror on the city.
I still love him.  Which made Robert ten brands of a fool.
He was lonely. He was cold. He’d just put his sister in the ground. He could excuse this all with temporary insanity. Loneliness. This would all pass, presuming tomorrow he was still alive.

The sheriff paced nearby, observing the operation. He was a large man, perhaps even with Robert’s own six feet but broader. Softer though, too, and currently he was off his guard. That would be Robert's advantage.
He waited until most of the men were distracted with prying open the crate, and ran for the sheriff, jumping on the man’s back. Rage took Robert’s sight, and he plunged the knife, completely blind.

They wrestled. Pushed. The sheriff was a stronger man than he appeared. Footsteps, and the sheriff’s fingers around Robert’s throat. He hooked his fingers and pulled, but the back of his head met with a post of some kind. Just before the lights went out, there was Justin…*And when Robert opened his sticky, blurry eyes, Justin stood over him still. “Jesus, that was stupid, Robby.” Justin gripped his forearm and pulled him to standing. Robert’s neat suit was torn and bloody.
A quick look around revealed the sheriff and the two men who had helped to unload the crate, all on the ground, wide holes burnt in their chests. Robert’s eyes went wide as he stared at Justin, not quite clear. “What did you do?”
The plasma gun disappeared into Justin’s coat. “I killed them.” He gestured at the crate, where the great beast lay sleeping a giant syringe in his neck. “And that thing, for now, is asleep. But you need to help me board the crate up again.”
Robert’s heart thumped hard. “You aren’t— You didn’t—”
Justin leaned down. “You had to think so, I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I’d planned to handle it, of course. When you pulled your crazy stunt there I had to change everything.” He ran a palm along Robert’s jaw. That was dangerous, Robby. You’re a scientist, not a fighter.
“I thought you were going to replicate the vampire,” Robert said. “He’s a danger. He needs to be destroyed.”
“I know.” Justin placed a firm kiss on his lips. “You’ll help me make sure it’s done properly?”
“Of course. We’ll do it together.”
Justin kissed Robert again, and Robert kissed back, smooth tendrils of hair curling through his fingers. Suddenly he was no longer cold. “Together.”
---Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! And if you like vampire stories, you might also check out my Urban Fantasy story, Immortal Valentine. 

Decisions, decisions! (aka~ T.C. Blue can't make up her mind!)

Hi, everyone, and thanks for joining us here today! *grins*

Now, it's getting close to X-mas time, and that means you're all busy, right? So I'm going to make this short and sweet. (See how I did that? I'm helping YOU have more time to get things done! I am in no way busy this time of year myself. Nope, not at all! :P)

So, the decisions I mentioned in the subject line aren't actually holiday related and I'm hoping some of you can help me out, here.

Twitter or Facebook? Seriously, that's what I'm having a hard time with.

See, loads of people do both. I know that. But I find that my limited mental capacity doesn't allow me to jump back and forth between social media sites. Haha!

I like Twitter. I do. There's something very... soundbyte-y and kind of challenging about it. (And if you think cramming an entire thought into 140 characters isn't a challenge for me when even my short stories suffer from a surfeit of plot, you're out of your mind! :D)

Facebook, otoh... MUCH easier to get a point across when there are seemingly limitless characters available per post. And people do seem to check facebook frequently.

I've been having this argument -- I mean disagreement :P -- with one of my besties for the last year or so, and we've gotten nowehere. I say Twitter, he says FB (or both).

What do you guys think? Which do you prefer and why?

~Tis

These are a few of my favorite things...

So every week, without fail, I check to see if the  new page of Teahouse has been uploaded, the new Starfighter


And the new TJ and Amal
I in thrall to these three online webcomics like you would not believe. I must know, it will hit me in the middle of the day, walking down the street, if I forget to check. There are others, some really good ones that I love as well but these three, I am addicted to like I used to be to...well...other things. Inspiration comes in many forms and sometimes letting your brain rest while you look at gorgeous artwork is the best thing ever. Enjoy.

It's a Wonderful Life, Charlie Brown, and Other Holiday Mondegreens

Okay, so, first off, does everyone know what a mondegreen is? Its an actual word. Really. I swear I didn't make it up. A mondegreen, according to Merriam Webster, is "a word or phrase that results from a mishearing of something said or sung." 

In other words, you got the lyrics wrong.

In some cases, really, really wrong. But that's what makes mondegreens so much fun. I mean, come on, admit it...when the E.L.O. song "It's Magic" comes on the radio, you're singing "Oh, oh, oh, it's my dick" under your breath, right? 

No? Well, maybe it's just me, then. But I bet you do from here on out.

I was shocked to find out how many people get the lyrics for time-honored and cherished holiday songs wrong, but I found a slew of them on the net, including Snopes.com. 

For example,  do you have any idea how many people at the office Christmas party are singing "Jeff's nuts roasting on an open fire" instead of "chestnuts?" How can they possibly think those are the right words? I don't know how these people celebrate the holiday, but they must break bread with Hannibal Lector if they think roasting someone's testicles on the ol' fireplace is a terrific holiday tradition. 

It seems other people want to "deck the halls with Buddy Holly." Now, since poor Buddy's been dead since 1959, I'm thinking he's gonna smell just a tad bit ripe by now. I would opt for boughs of holly, instead. 

How about Frosty the Snowman? Everyone knows the right words to that one, don't they? Yeah, not so much. Seems a lot of folks are singing about his "corncob pipe and his bloody nose." 

Say again? What, does Frosty moonlight as a Ultimate Fighter? Who does he fight? Sam the Snowman from Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer? I would put my money on Sam. Frosty may have a broom, but Sam has that wicked umbrella...

Jingle Bells. Come on, this is the most elementary song of them all! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way, oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse, open sleigh. Or, for those of us with a third grader perpetually stuck in our heads, there's the alternative, "jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, the Batmobile broke its wheel, and the Joker got away." 

But in either case, there's definitely no "bells on Bob's tail ring, making spareribs bright, what fun it is to write and sing a slaying song to knives." 

And I'm sorry, but whether you believe in Santa or not, I just can't believe anyone would think the correct words to "Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer" are "Rudolph, with your nose so bright, won't you guard my slave tonight."

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe some folks think Santa is a bit off. After all, why else would they change the words to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" to "He's making a list of chicken and rice," or that he'll have little toy dolls "that doodoo and poo"? Or that they'll be "building toilet towns" all around the Christmas tree? 

Also, I don't know who "Round John Virgin" is, or why he would have a "margarine child," or why they would sleep in "heavenly peas," but evidently that's what they do in  some people's rendition of "Silent Night."

Perhaps the most misquoted one of all is "The Twelve Days of Christmas." My favorite one is "On the twelfth day of Christmas, my tulip gave to me twelve dumpers dumping, eleven pipers peeing, ten lawyers leaving, nine lazy handsomes, eight maids a milling, seven warts on women, six geezers laying, five golden rings, four calling cards, three french maids, two turtle shells, and a cartridge in a pantry." 



 

Twitter Recap by Cardeno C.

Happy Monday, y'all. So I've missed the last couple of weeks of posts because I can't think of anything to say. As I was staring at the screen today, fearful of another missed week, inspiration (or desperation) struck.  

I post things on Twitter throughout the week, so I was thinking a little summary here might be fun. (If you don't agree, please see previous comment regarding desperation.) Alright, so here are last week's tweets:


Him: I walked by that guy I hooked up with. Me: did you say hi? Him: I ignored him. Me: meany. Him: I only knew him for 30 min. Me: poor him Dec 03, 2012 
"Dog walking is better than grindr." - Friend who brought home a guy he met while walking the dog for the 2nd time in a month. Dec 02, 2012 
Wake Me Up Inside received an honorable mention at the Rainbow awards! I celebrated by eating a donut (or a dog butt, as autocorrected). Dec 02, 2012  [Supplemental Note: Dreamspinner has the book and all other Rainbow award winners for 25% off right now to celebrate this honor so if you haven't read it and want to, now's the time.]
Eight Days, my holiday novella, is now available here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/stor.... :) Dec 01, 2012[Supplemental Note: Here's the blurb in case you want to know more about this story:
Maccabe Fried and Josh Segal have nothing in common, but they’ve been friends forever. Maccabe is an athlete with dreams of playing professional baseball. Josh is a good student with dreams of being with Maccabe. Then both dreams come true. 
Maccabe and Josh fall into a passionate long-distance romance, and after years of hiding from the world, Josh wants to bring their relationship into the open. When Maccabe refuses, Josh is faced with a tough decision: stay with the man he loves or live the life he deserves. Somebody's bound to get hurt, but in the season of miracles, there's always hope for a happy ending.]
How to know you're overdue for coffee: you drop the packet of Splenda into the coffee, paper & all. Nov 29, 2012 
I need more information before I can decide whether her actions were warranted. http://t.co/7PVfN6eA Nov 29, 2012 
This is why there are so many lesbians, y'all. All the hot naked guys are ... sorry, what was I saying? https://t.co/pMxS3bvC Nov 28, 2012 
Something to keep in mind as you choose where to contribute your charitable money. http://t.co/j4wQB0FU Nov 27, 2012 
I hope you have a wonderful week!
Cardeno C.www.cardenoc.com