Sol Crafter's Blog, page 16

EXCERPT: Allies & Enemies, by Harper Kingsley mm superhero

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

Title: Allies & Enemies

Author: Harper Kingsley

Genre: mm, superhero, action adventure, drama

A/N: Still trying to get a hold of a good cover Paid good money for a load of nothing. Might end up with a generic quivering camera photo of flowers or fruit or something for a cover; still deciding.

Summary: Starts where “Heroes & Villains” left off. Vereint could be a terrifying and unstoppable force and it was just luck that he showed even the tiniest bit of concern for other people. If he had been completely amoral he would have been a monster so terrible he could almost be seen as a force of nature.

The sun was struggling to shine through the clouds, but it was just one of those days guaranteed to be miserable. Not just because of the weather, but because of the girl sobbing out her heartbreak on a sterile hospital bed, the sheets pulled up around her shoulders as she buried her face in the rather flat and lumpy pillow.

Vereint clenched his hands together on the handle of the shopping bag he held in front of himself. It took all of his will to keep from running into the room and scooping her up into his arms. Instead, he stood on the other side of the glass and watched her mourn the loss of both of her parents all alone. Behind and to the left of him, he could hear Warrick fast-talking the doctors and the police and anyone else he had to and Vereint was sure everything was going to work itself out.

They were going to take that little girl home and give her a family and make sure she grew up knowing that she was loved. He didn’t think they could ever wipe away the loss of her parents, but they would try their best to make her realize that she still had a whole life to live and that they would always be there for her.

There was the slight scuff of dress shoes on the linoleum floor, then Vereint had Warrick’s arm across his shoulders and he didn’t hesitate to hug Warrick’s wrist against his chest. He breathed in the scent that his brain uniquely identified as Warrick Reidenger Tobias and something screaming and tight released. “Do we get to take her?”

“I talked them around,” Warrick said. “There will be social service visits and we’ll have a social worker assigned and they’ll still be looking out for any family that she has, but she gets to go home with us tonight. They say she’s all right, just shaken up, so it’ll be better for her not having to spend another night in the hospital.”

“Good.” Vereint had never been fond of hospitals. Just the smell and the sounds were enough to make him uncomfortable; he didn’t want to know how miserable it would be for a grieving twelve year old girl that had just watched her parents die. “It’ll be fine for tonight and tomorrow I can go and get things to make the guest room more comfortable for her.”

He would get her a few things to make her feel welcome, then later after her grief had a chance to settle a bit, he would take her with him to pick out the things she wanted for herself. It would give them a chance to bond. He wondered what she looked like when she smiled.

“Here comes the social worker,” Warrick said.

There was the clack-clack of sensible pumps attached to a tall, thin woman with a pair of no-nonsense glasses perched on her nose. She looked like she might be kind, but she didn’t suffer fools gladly. The subdued floral print on her purple and black blouse showed that while she had a softer side, she was serious about her job.

“Mr. Georges, I’m Nancy Daniels and I’ve been assigned to Melissa’s case.” Her handshake was brusque and businesslike. She wasn’t ready to be friends, not until she was sure of them, but Vereint could tell she was the kind of ally they were really going to need.

He smiled at her, trying to pour on the charm without going too far over the top. “Thank you. I’m just glad you’re letting us take her home with us.”

She sighed. “It will be nice for her to be out of here. From what the nurses have said, last night was not a good night for her.” She walked toward the door. “Come along and I’ll introduce you.”

Warrick reached the door before her and held it open with easy grace. He gave Vereint a pat on the back as he walked passed and Vereint gave him a slight smile before his attention was caught and held by the girl on the bed.

With the opening of the door, she’d turned and sat up, scrubbing her eyes with the corner of the sheet and trying to pretend that she hadn’t been crying. Her fine black hair was a tangled mess and her face was blotchy and red. “What do you want?” she demanded, her teeth clenching tight around the words as she tried to maintain her control.

“Hello Melissa,” Nancy said, her voice gentle and soothing. “I know you said you want to leave the hospital, and that’s why I’ve brought these two gentlemen with me. This is Vereint Georges and his husband Warrick Tobias. They want you to stay with them until everything gets figured out.”

Melissa gave them a suspicious glare. “I don’t know them. I don’t want to go anywhere with them.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Nancy said, “but you can’t leave the hospital unless you have somewhere to go, and Vereint and Warrick are offering you a safe place.”

Vereint stepped forward, keeping his hands in view at his sides, the bag hanging from his left wrist so she could see his palms. He gave Melissa a tentative smile. “Hi. I can tell why you’d want to get out of here, I don’t much like hospitals myself, and it must be pretty cold here at night, huh?”

Her black eyes were still very suspicious, but she gave a nod of grudging agreement. “The blankets are really thin and you can hear everything that goes on at night. I think the man in the next room died last night; there was a big ruckus going on and people running in and out.” Her chin was a hard nob that she refused to let tremble.

She was a cute Korean-American girl with long black hair and a triangular shaped face. She was short, her body so tiny in comparison that her head looked large. She could have been a doll and just looking at her made Vereint want to go “Ah!” at her complete adorableness.

The fact that she was so self-defensive and sarcastic actually made him like her more. The first time he’d spotted her after her parents’ death he had felt as though something had stabbed him hard in the chest. He’d never believed in fate, but it was completely obvious to him that he and Warrick were going to take her home and raise her as their daughter. There had been so much hurt in her eyes when they’d met his, and so much spirit beyond that, it was no effort at all to nudge Warrick into grudging action.

It wasn’t that Warrick was heartless or anything, but he’d long ago learned that there was no helping everyone. He already went out night after night to save his slice of the world; he couldn’t take every orphaned kid home with him. Vereint had completely agreed with that sentiment, but seeing Melissa Kim of the Flying Kims standing on the platform, her eyes wide and horrified as she’d watched her parents frozen to crystal and shattered into red stained pieces. There was no way he could turn away from that girl, not with the way his every instinct had been screaming at him.

The events had taken place three days ago and almost like fate there had been no family for anyone to call for her. There was no one stepping forward to take Melissa in and Vereint had felt his instincts vindicated. It was only a few moments thought for him to go to Warrick and suggest they take Melissa in.

“Come home with us,” Vereint urged. “There’s a bedroom waiting for you and we’ll make sure you’re well taken care of. It’s no committment, but we would like it if you were to become part of our family.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. Her fingers were twisting and twisting together in her lap. Her fingernails were bitten down and the skin around them looked tender and red.

“Because you need us,” Vereint said. Part of him wanted to just snatch her up and force her to go home with him to where she belonged, but he knew he couldn’t be like that. He wasn’t the bad guy anymore. He was trying to just be a guy, and regular guys didn’t go around subjugating the wills of the people around them. Warrick had told him it was rude.

She bit her lip, her teeth tiny and white. Her right eyetooth was a bit crooked and she had a tooth pressing in on the left. Her eyes darted to Nancy as she asked, “What will happen to me if I don’t go with them?”

“You’ll have to remain here at the hospital until late afternoon when you’ll be transfered to a halfway house until we find you a foster family,” Nancy stated bluntly. Melissa’s eyes got wide and shiny. Nancy shook her head. “Look, sweetie, this is one of those times when you have to act a little grown up. We’ll try to help you as much as we can, but you have to help out too. There are some things that will be in your best interest, and fighting everything won’t help you at all. Do you understand?”

Melissa blinked hard a few times, but it was obvious she was processing the information she’d been given. Vereint was pleased to think she might be a smart kid as he didn’t know how well he would deal with a kid he had to repeat himself to dozens of times. He still remembered how awful his cousins had been and just the sound of velcro releasing set his teeth on edge.

“If you honestly don’t like it with us,” Vereint said, “you can always call Nancy. We won’t keep you if you don’t want to be there.”

She drew in a huffing breath, her cheeks puffing out thoughtfully. “Okay.” Melissa nodded to Nancy. “I’ll go with them. Just… can I have my stuff?” She glanced at Vereint, then Warrick. “I mean, well… I can understand if you won’t let me keep the whole trailer, but can I bring some of my family’s stuff?”

Vereint snorted. “Forget that,” he said. He looked at Warrick. “Can we have the trailer delivered somewhere? Like put into long-term storage or something?”

“Of course,” Warrick flipped out his phone, “give me a minute and I’ll arrange something.”

“See?” Vereint turned back to Melissa. “You can keep all of your things. It’s going to be all right.”

“Really?” She gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you. I was… I was really worried they were just going to throw everything away. I mean, I’ve seen movies and TV, I know they don’t let kids in foster care keep most of their stuff. I’m only twelve, there’s no way they’d pay for our trailer to be stored somewhere for the next six years, and there’s no way I could pay for it. I just…” she closed her eyes briefly. “That trailer is my home. I’ve spent nearly my whole life living in it.”

“Well, your home won’t be getting sold anytime soon,” Vereint said. He leaned close and dropped his voice to a whisper, “Warrick will make sure it’s there for you when you want it. Is that a good deal?” He gave Melissa a smile filled with so much charm it should have been “Charm!” with glitter and diamonds and bright splashes of fireworks.

There was no way a preteen girl was going to be able to withstand his powers, so it was no surprise when she smiled back at him with shy charm and reached out to shake the hand he extended. “It’s a deal,” she chirped, after only one disturbed wrinkle of her brow before she was caught and her brain responded to his pheromones and flooded her body with the chemicals for trust, affection, and a taste of hero-worship.

Vereint blinked and quickly lowered his eyes, his chin dipping down in what might have seemed a clumsy move. That surge of livewire tension he always felt when he powered up settled back down. The sharp clarity returned to normal focus and he knew his eyes had changed back to their usual slate blue. He lifted his head up and gave Melissa a smile she was quick to reciprocate even without him pressing her.

Vereint glanced over real quick and Warrick was still talking on his phone a few feet away and hadn’t seen what he’d done. It made him feel quilty to hide anything from Warrick, but he really hated receiving a disapproving frown most of all.

He figured that what Warrick didn’t know wouldn’t cause any fights between the two of them. And all he’d really done was prime Melissa to be more receptive to the help she needed. It wasn’t like he’d made her love him or anything, which he easily could have done. All he’d done was ease her grief a little by introducing a set of more positive emotions.

Vereint knew he was trying to upsell himself, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about Melissa that called out to him and he had a feeling there was a lot of rather villainous things he would be happy to do on her behalf. He couldn’t explain what it was about her, but he wanted to help her out.

“Here, I brought this for you,” he said, holding out the large shopping bag. It was glossy black with a red heart on the front. “I thought you might need some clothes. I had to guess on the sizes but seeing you now I think I did a pretty good job.”

Melissa held the bag on her sheet wrapped lap for a moment, then looked into the bag. She reached in and pulled out a purple tee shirt with a glittery blue quilt design on the front, then she dropped it back in and held up the jeans and gray sweatshirt he’d picked out. “You didn’t have to buy me anything,” she said. “I have plenty of clothes.”

“Except you don’t have anything here,” he said. “Until we can get you some stuff from your trailer, you’re going to need something to wear.”

“Well,” she nibbled her lip and gave him a sideways glance through the curtain of her hair, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Why don’t you go change so we can get out of here? Like I told you, hospitals creep me out.” He gave a melodramatic shudder.

There was the hint of a smile around her lips as she pulled the clothes out of the bag and hurriedly climbed off the bed. She was wearing a loose pair of blue scrub pants and a matching shirt that hung off her slender frame as though that were the way they were supposed to look. She’d tucked the long hem of the shirt into the waistband of her pants and her socks were very white as she dashed toward the bathroom, closing the door with a loud click.

Vereint looked at Nancy. “Well, I guess that’s that.”

She gave him a long look, then a nod. “We’ll give her one more chance to back out on the deal, then she’ll be in your care until the situation changes.”

“Good.”

* * *

Standing off to one side, Warrick gave instructions to his assistant then called headquarters to let the rest of the League know he was going to have a civilian staying at his place. He hadn’t wanted to drop that bombshell on the team until after he was sure it was really going to happen.

It wasn’t like he hated kids or anything, he just hadn’t ever really wanted any. After the initial anguish of finding out he’d been rendered sterile in a bad fight when he’d taken one of the worst blows of his life, he’d come to the decision that he was actually rather relieved. He worried sometimes that he was too much like his father, and that was definitely not the way he wanted to be with a kid.

But Vereint had asked if they could take Melissa in and it was obviously something he really wanted. Warrick thought he’d handled things well when he agreed that they could offer themselves up as foster parents for Melissa, and it had only taken a single phone call for him to have things pushed through.

If Vereint wanted Melissa in their family, then that was what they were going to have. He just hoped Vereint wasn’t going to start taking in strays all over the place. He’d already gotten himself Hank as a new brother and now he was picking up a pseudo-daughter, or as he’d proclaimed her, a “ward” like they were suddenly in the 18th century or something. It made Warrick wonder if Vereint was going to insist on getting Melissa a governess or something.

Warrick felt his lips twitch as he thought about the rather humorous image of all the trouble Vereint could get himself into if he was that kind of person. It was something Warrick had realized with time, but he’d come to the conclusion that there was very little in the world that he wouldn’t let Vereint have if he really wanted something. Though if it really came down to it, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do to stop Vereint if he went off the rails.

Vereint could be a terrifying and unstoppable force and it was just luck that he showed even the tiniest bit of concern for other people. If he had been completely amoral he would have been a monster so terrible he could almost be seen as a force of nature. Instead he had indulged in largely petty crime and his body count was amazingly low for someone with such a powerful reputation. People were frightened of what could happen if he got really mad at them personally, but as a whole he had never been that much of a threat to society as a whole.

Warrick finally made his last phone call, then slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket. He’d almost been notifying people by rote at the end, but it was one of those things that needed to be done. He was pretty high profile and if he didn’t make one hundred percent sure that his calls were rerouted, it would only be a matter of time before his secret identity was blown.

It was one of the biggest reasons why he didn’t think bringing a child into their home was a good idea. He had way too many secrets he was hiding, and having a kid around was too much risk. Though Vereint had told him he should try playing the Daddy Warbuck’s hard. Which basically entailed him locking himself in his office for “work time” and basically not telling Melissa a single thing about what he was doing. It was going to be a definite change in his routine, but it wasn’t like he had any other choice.

One look at how Vereint practically glowed as he gathered up Melissa’s small amount of possessions as she changed in the bathroom and Warrick knew that this was happening. It was just so good to see Vereint being seriously involved with something. He didn’t seem to notice how mechanically he went through his days, but Warrick certainly had.

Since retiring from crime, Vereint had tried to write a book and taken art lessons and driven go-karts and taken on so many failed hobbies that failure was getting to be his hobby. The fire that had always seemed to blaze around him had dimmed out and Warrick had really begun to worry that maybe Vereint was getting depressed, that he was going to decide enough was enough and just leave one day. The idea of Vereint leaving him had sent a jagged blade of uneasiness through Warrick and his mind had started spitting out ideas for how he was supposed to save his marriage.

The bathroom door opened and Melissa stepped out in the jeans and hoodie ensemble Vereint had picked out for her. She’d been brought to the hospital in her circus costume–a red and yellow leotard and flesh colored tights–so she’d spent the last couple of days in hospital pajamas. She looked relieved to be wearing real clothes again.

“Looking good,” Vereint said, giving her a bright grin. “Here, I got these for you too.” He pulled a tiny tennis shoe out of both pockets of his jacket and held them out toward her.

Her hands trembled slightly when she reached out and took them, her fingers ghosting over the flying bird design that had been hand painted on the outsides of each shoe. They were red and white tennis shoes and the yellow bird was outlined in a rich blue. “These… these are the shoes I wanted,” her voice cracked. “I didn’t tell anyone because they’re too expensive. How did you know?” She raised her head to look at Vereint.

“I saw them and I just thought of you,” Vereint said, giving her a warm smile. It was the type of unthinking kindness that made Warrick love him even more.

He knew that Vereint was a work in progress, but he didn’t mind that as much as Vereint seemed to. He had long since accepted the fact that neither one of them were perfect. Which made the times Vereint did something compassionate or sweet for someone other than Warrick more precious and important to him.

It was horribly sentimental, but he couldn’t help thinking that he wanted to see every face Vereint could make. He wanted to know every part of Vereint to the point that he could fold those memories into every part of himself.

Warrick liked that he had a reputation for chilly disinterest toward any kind of human weakness. It sent a surge of ego through him to know that he had never fucked up at his job and that he was known for always getting the job done the right way the first time. Yet he liked that he was able to give Vereint the softer side of his personality. He liked to see Vereint happy, with that little tilt to his lips that was only seconds away from a laughing smile. He would do just about anything to be able to see that expression.

Which was why they were taking home a twelve year old orphan girl that had been raised in a circus and had very little experience with normal people. There was something about her that had struck a cord with Vereint.

Warrick sent one last text to his assistant–a young man named Bertram of all things–then watched as Melissa sat on the edge of her hospital bed and pulled on her new shoes. He didn’t know how Vereint had done it, but they were the perfect size.

“Thank you,” she said, giving Vereint a shy glance.

He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. You need shoes if we’re blowing this Popsicle stand.” Warrick could see that he was pleased though, the tips of his ears turning red.

Warrick took it as his cue to step forward and herd everyone out of the room. Vereint held the shopping bag in one hand while he kept his other hand free in case Melissa happened to want to take it. She didn’t this time, but the offer was left open and Warrick couldn’t help a bit of melting in his heart.

Bertram was standing at the nurses station, wrapping up the last bit of the checkout process, and he turned with a nearly puppyish excitement when he saw Warrick. He came trotting over with a bright green folder clutched in his hand. “Sir, she’s all checked out and the car is ready downstairs to drive you home.”

“Thank you,” Warrick said, accepting the folder and not breaking stride as he led the way to the elevator. It was always somewhat funny to see the usually well-put together young man scramble to keep up with him, his loafers squeaking on the floor and his Ichabod Crane elbows and arms bending like Stretch Armstrong.

Bertram Cooke was one of those overly educated, under socialized men that had been training his entire life to be someone’s underling, though he probably hadn’t realized that was where his education was leading him at the time. Still, he was good at his job and Warrick had just about gotten him trained up enough where he didn’t have to offer any handholding; Bertram was able to take care of things with a minimum of dramatics, and that was an appreciable skill.

/EXCERPT

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The post EXCERPT: Allies & Enemies, by Harper Kingsley mm superhero appeared first on Harper Kingsley.
All content copyright HarperKingsley.net unless otherwise stated.
Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

My mistake is your bit of awesome.

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

Screwed something up, posted the same entry twice. Very sad faced for me but super awesome lucky for you.

Leave a comment and I’ll send you an ARC copy of “Spores!” by Sol Crafter, a mm superhero piece. Basically a sex pollen story with a kanon twist.

The call out was fairly routine. A madman threatening to destroy a big chunk of the city with some kind of death machine. It was only after they were in the air and headed toward the site that they received word that it was Major Mayhem and he had some kind of bio-agent he’d stolen from a government lab and might have been tinkering with.

“Great,” Bonecrusher growled, “those eggheads couldn’t think to say anything before we left. Did we even pack the hazmat suits this time?”

Lady Arcana snorted and shot Captain Victorious a pair of nearly lethal side eyes. “Of course not,” she said in her faux-Russian accent, “our dear leader had us leave without the full compliment of gear.”

Vic rolled his eyes behind the lenses of his mask. “Yes, it’s all my fault. I really want to see us being liquefied by some kind of bio-weapon. It’s all part of my most stupid leadership plan.”

“You are the one that said it, not I,” she said, tossing her long red curls and pouting those sexpot lips. “We will have to stop his madness before he has a chance to use his weapon.”

This option is open until December 1st when the ARCs will go out.

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The post My mistake is your bit of awesome. appeared first on Harper Kingsley.
All content copyright HarperKingsley.net unless otherwise stated.
Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

EXCERPT: Tuesday Night, by Sol Crafter – ONE

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

Title: Tuesday Night

Author: Sol Crafter

Genre: mm superhero

Rating: Mature

A/N: Starts off with a m/f scene that’s pretty important to the plot.

Summary: In a world where Ashley never returned, Tony had to keep going forward alone. With just a few–giant!–life-changing errors on the way.

TUESDAY NIGHT

By Sol Crafter

ONE

Sometimes the loneliness ate away at him like a cancer. It made him writhe and scream and more than anything he wanted everything to be okay again. But that so rarely happened in real life.

He cried himself to sleep on the nights like those, depressed and gray and so horrible it made him shake in misery, his whole body aching with loss. With every breath he took, he got farther and farther away from his center, becoming something else.

Her name beat the sound of his heart: Ashley. The only girl he had or would ever love.

When he got too melodramatic, Sunfire would toss something at him and tell him to “Get over it. I know it’s hard, but she’s gone and you’re still here. You need to live.”

And it would be like someone had hit a switch deep inside and he would suddenly come back alive again. It was as though he’d been given the permission he needed to hear to be able to get past the death of her.

Loss was a swirling vortex beneath his feet trying to pull him down. He would fight it for awhile, but there was no way he was going to be able to withstand such force for very long. So one day he would slip and down he would go into the depths that only despair could take him, and who knew what would happen then? What could total loss get him to do?

Tony had to be grateful that Sunfire always seemed to show up just when he was losing control of himself. And just having his friend around lightened the pressure on him, seeming to give him the air he needed to breathe.

Sunfire made him feel that everything was going to be all right, if not immediately, in the future at least.

They played video games and watched movies and Sunfire never seemed to mind when Tony just wasn’t in the mood to talk. He just seemed to make allowances in their relationship for times when Tony would be silently moody.

It was kind of funny how such a tragedy could have led to him realizing just how great a friend Sunfire actually was. Always before he had just thought the man was kind of irresponsible. The kind of guy that would forget a birthday and would never be around when he was really needed.

Tony had had his eyes pried open when he realized just how thoughtful a guy Sunfire really was. Sure, he said dumb stuff sometimes, but he always remembered a promise and he always seemed to know what to say and what not to say. It was actually pretty great.

But sometimes Tony wanted something more. He wanted the warmth of physical sensation. He wanted to bury himself balls deep in moist heat and let go of everything that had ever troubled him. Even if it wasn’t for forever, he just needed that little bit of breathing room.

Which is how Tony found himself lounging on the couch in the common living area with Solar writhing in his lap, rubbing her naked breasts against his lips.

He’d never really had that much of a fondness for Solar–she was a little too chirpy for his tastes–but it had been a long time since he’d had anyone to hold onto. So he just shrugged his mental shoulders and set about making love to her.

She made a high, keening noise in the back of her throat as he tongued her pussy. He had to use close to his full strength to keep her flexing thighs from crushing his head.

She was probably one of those chicks that could only make love to another metahuman. Anyone normal, she would probably kill in the heat of passion, which he figured was probably a real deal breaker.

He had to consciously activate his ability. If he didn’t do it, he was just a normal human. Which sucked during surprise attacks, but meant that he could have a normal life where he didn’t have to worry about accidentally killing someone.

A meta like Solar didn’t have the option of shutting her ability off. It was always there, and the people around her were all so fragile that one slip up could be a tragedy.

He didn’t really enjoy that he had to hold her back from crushing him. It kind of took away from his enjoyment in the situation.

Ashley had only had normal human strength, so he’d never had to worry about her losing control. As long as she didn’t let one of her sonic vocalizations off in his face, there was no chance she would really be able to hurt him.

With Solar he didn’t have any kind of guarantee.

Solar came with a ululating moan, then flopped sideways in a curve. Her legs were still splayed wide, her sex shiny and wet from his saliva and her own natural juices. Her belly shivered with her shuddering breaths.

“You’re kind of beautiful like this,” he said.

She blinked heavy-lidded eyes at him. A catlike smile curved her kiss swollen lips and her tongue flicked out for a second. Her white blond hair had flopped over one eye. She looked wild and wanton.

Tony got up from between her legs to walk toward the bathroom.

So it was just his luck that the elevator door entrance slipped open and Sunfire walked in.

Sunfire dropped the bags he was carrying and his mouth flopped open in surprise. His black sunglasses slipped down his nose as he stared over the top. “Y-y-you’re totally naked.”

“Yeah.” Tony dropped his hands in front of his crotch. “Sorry you had to get such an eyeful. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here for a couple more hours.”

“S-so you want me to leave and come back later?” Sunfire asked.

Tony shrugged, then nodded. “Yeah. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Sunfire’s mouth closed with a snap, then he picked up his shopping bags and put them neatly together by the door. “I will be back to put these away later,” he said briskly, looking anywhere but at Tony. “Make sure you disinfect the couch and anywhere else you’ve been.”

Tony couldn’t help laughing. “I promise.”

“Hmph,” Sunfire snorted, then walked right back into the elevator. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you!” Tony called as the elevator doors shut. He caught Sunfire’s eye and for a minute he thought he saw hurt feelings there, but it must have been a trick of the light.

He shook his head and continued his walk to the bathroom. He still had to pee and probably get some wash cloths to clean Solar up with.

Ashley had taught him to be thoughtful.

When he came back with a couple of damp face towels in his hands, he was kind of surprised to see that Solar hadn’t moved. She was still sprawled bonelessly on the couch, her legs still splayed wide so he could get a good view of her exposed sex.

She’d looked sexy and beautiful while in the throes of passion, but now, in the cold light of sanity, he couldn’t help feeling bad for her.

If there was one thing he’d learned since Ashley’s death, it was how to read the level of sincerity someone expressed. Which had led to him realizing that Solar had really strong feelings for him, like actual love feelings, which was way beyond the crush he’d just thought she’d had.

All he’d ever felt for her were the emotions of an older brother. But now she was growing up and she wanted more from him than he thought he was willing to give.

Except loneliness and desperation had eaten away at his scruples and he’d let himself do something he probably should regret.

And that was why he felt bad for her. Because she was so insignificant to him that he didn’t even feel guilty about taking advantage of her. In fact, he didn’t even feel bad at all. She was so pathetic that he didn’t have it in him to really even care that he was taking her innocence away from her.

He should have hated the thought of being a user, but all he wanted right now was something to fill the awful emptiness at his core. The place where Ashley had been ripped from his heart in one act of mindless violence.

“Hey, I brought these,” he said, holding up the towels.

She opened one eye to look at him dolefully for a moment, then closed it and moved her head a little to the side, turning her neck into a long stretch of tendon.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He took one of the cloths and began wiping her body clean.

“You’re not really into me,” Solar said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Her large gray eyes opened to look at him. He felt as though he’d been stabbed in the chest. “I’m not stupid,” she said. “I can tell that you don’t really like me. And I like you enough that it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

She smiled, though it wasn’t a happy expression. “It’s all right. I’m a big girl.”

Tony chewed on his lower lip for a minute, then handed her the other towel he held. “Here, I want to get dressed. It was pretty awkward having Sunfire walk in.”

He picked up his clothes and began pulling them back on. He could feel her looking at him, and it wasn’t as pleasant an experience as it had seemed before.

He just felt like he’d made a big mistake.

Solar gave a bitter sounding laugh and stood up with exquisite grace. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” she said, “why don’t you do whatever it is you do?”

“Okay,” he said dumbly.

He watched her leave the room, completely unselfconscious in her nakedness. She was beautifully formed, tiny and pale with legs that seemed to go on forever, or maybe just until they reached the floor.

Tony finished zipping his pants, then stumbled over to one of the recliners. He didn’t want to sit on the couch where they had just had their assignation.

He flopped down on the leather chair and gave a heavy sigh.

He’d thought that having sex with her would somehow make him feel better, but that hadn’t been the case. He still felt empty inside, drained of everything that had made his life worth living.

“Ashley,” he whispered, tasting tears he refused to let fall. He cradled his head in his hands, hunching his shoulders small.

She’d been dead for nearly a year and it still felt as fresh and horrible as when he’d seen her limp and broken body cradled in her father’s arms. There’d been so much blood and bruised flesh that he hadn’t recognized her at first, until all of a sudden she was all that he saw. It was like some strange optical illusion, everything just clicking into sudden, horrible clarity.

“Ashley,” he repeated, just the sound of her name bringing him a terrible pain in his chest.

* * *

She’d never planned on their ever feeling regrets, but that was exactly what was flooding through her. No guilt, just the horror of disillusioned dreams.

Carrie scrubbed her body clean, wiping away every trace of him. The water was hot enough to burn her tender flesh, but she didn’t even care.

From the minute she’d first seen him, she’d been sure that he was everything she ever wanted, but now she knew she had made one of the worst mistakes of her life. Not that there was anything she could do about it now, not with Ashley firmly in the grave.

I highly doubt her dad’s going to accept me just saying “Whoops.” There’s no way he would ever let it go if he ever suspected what I did, she thought.

She curled her lip and rinsed all the shampoo from her blond hair.

Regrets were for losers, and there was no way she was ever going to fall into that trap.

As long as she pretended that everything was all right, eventually her lies would become the truth and everyone would forget about Sonic Pulse and her lonely grave. And Carrie would never have to feel sorry.

Opening her mouth in a silent scream, she allowed herself one single moment of complete despair. Then she shut off the water, wrapped a towel around her body, and stepped out of the shower with perfect aplomb, her bare toes flexing against the nubby mat.

She calmly dried off before pulling on her pale blue robe and leaving the bathroom.

She didn’t even glance toward the living room as she padded down the hallway toward her bedroom. It was attached to Nathan’s, something he’d insisted on. He was completely paranoid that something was going to happen to her, which was utterly ridiculous.

If anyone tried anything she didn’t like, she would have no problem crushing every bone in his or her body. It was all about respect.

* * *

If there was one thing Seth had learned, it was to hide his complete and utter surprise when something crazy happened. Like walking in and seeing his best friend walking around the Demi Lair naked.

Seth walked down the street, ignoring the admiring glances he received by the people he passed. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that he was completely gorgeous, in costume and out.

It would have been very easy for him to pick someone up for a wild tumble. Unfortunately, the one person he really wanted was completely oblivious and obviously straight.

Seth sighed heavily. It was only strength of will that kept him from slumping his shoulders. He was Sunfire, and Sunfire never looked defeated and sad.

Especially when he felt defeated and sad.

Never in his life had he wanted something so badly as he wanted Tony. The fact that he knew it was never going to happen only made it worse.

He wandered the streets for what felt like hours before he judged it safe enough to return to the Lair. Hopefully he wasn’t going to walk in on anything truly horrifying, though he couldn’t help the slight quirk of his lips at the thought of naked Tony. That wasn’t something he would really mind seeing again.

Sighing, he had to shake his head. Keeping secrets had never been something he was any good at.

He paused for a moment in front of the elevator, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction. He’d never really thought he was that much of a coward, but his hand trembled a little when he reached out to push the elevator button.

No one could ever accuse him of having a lack of bravery.

It was with a sense of relief tinged with disappointment that he found Tony fully dressed and the Lair smelling of cleaning products.

He couldn’t help looking around though. “Well, at least you did a good cleaning job. I’m not going to have to worry about catching something when I sit on the furniture.” He flopped down in his usual chair. “So where’d Solar go? Did she get all embarrassed about me seeing you guys and run off to hide?”

Tony shrugged despondently. “I don’t know. I think she’s in her room if she didn’t go out a window or something.”

Seth furrowed his brow. “What’s going on with you? Why are you so down?”

Tony sighed and hunched down on the couch, his hands covering his nose and mouth. “I totally thought I was having a good time until it was all over and I realized that nothing was real. She’s not Ashley. And she’s not what I want. So how could I have had sex with her like it was perfectly all right?”

Seth sighed heavily. “Why do you always have to feel things so deeply or whatever? You have to turn every situation into a soap opera, just all this drama and angst. Why do you have to do that to yourself? Why can’t you ever just be happy?”

“I wasn’t always like this.” Tony flopped sideways on the couch, bringing his legs up in a half curl that had Seth wondering if he should yell at him about shoes on upholstery. Then he remembered that he didn’t really care. “Everything was different when Ashley was alive.”

“No it wasn’t,” Seth disagreed. “You’ve always been a pretty moody motherfucker. It’s like you just can’t be happy for any length of time before you decide to totally wreck everything. Even when Ashley was alive, you guys were so on again, off again that we actually started a calendar listing your relationship status. And say what you will about Ashley, she could be a real, bullheaded bitch, but she wasn’t the one that was always chafing at you guys having a relationship. That was all you, buddy.”

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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

A test of the email posting system

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

Watching Family Guy, figuring out new technologies. The way of the world [sending private]

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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

NaNoWriMo Day 16

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

NaNoWriMo seems to be going well I’m actually pretty happy with what I’ve written so far and the story is coming together at a good pace. I’m very pleased.

I keep checking on Smashwords to see if anyone has downloaded samples of my NaNo and I would really like to see what people think of it so far, but that’s just one of those things. Reviews come when reviews come.

EXCERPT –

Nicholas woke with a groan. “Stop shaking me, you’ll give me the syndrome.”

“You’re not a baby,” Christian sounded amused, “so get up before I pour water on you.”

Knowing that there was no way Christian was going to let it go, Nicholas forced himself to sit up. His hair felt crazy around his head and his eyes were so dry and sore that he had to rub them until he could see clearly. “Why do you have to do this to me?”

“Because your brother made me promise to get you up so you could arrange our lunch with that guy from last night,” Christian said patiently. He knew that Nicholas was not at his best just after waking up.

“What are you talking about?” Nicholas threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, his hand going out to catch himself on the hotel nightstand before he went over. He yawned hugely and stretched his spine until it made the unpleasant cracking sounds Christian always professed to hate.

“You told that David guy that you would let him take you to lunch, remember?” Christian followed him into the bathroom and unscrewed the lid of a water bottle while Nicholas urinated. “Frankie said to make sure you called the guy.”

Nicholas sighed and flushed the toilet. “Do you have anything for my head?”

“Of course.” Christian filled a water glass and shook two Advil out of a small bottle. “Wash your hands,” he ordered, then preceded to ignore Nicholas’ roll of the eyes and turned on the tap for him.

“Yes, master.” Nicholas quickly washed his hands, then reached for his toothbrush. He couldn’t even manage to drink plain water with the horrible taste in his mouth. He’d always been finicky.

Christian was ever patient and had the water and pills held out toward him before he lowered the towel from his face. “Swallow these and drink all the water. I don’t know why you have to get so wasted whenever we go anywhere.”

“Because it makes me feel special.” Nicholas gave his best dipshit smirk and reached for the pills. “You’re such a dear.”

“Darling, you are a real bitch in the morning,” Christian said. He watched to make sure Nicholas really swallowed the analgesics, then pressed the water on him. “At least you’re getting some color back in your cheeks. We’ll eat some breakfast, then you can take a shower and we’ll go.”

“Why do you always have to push me around?” Nicholas gave him a quick shoulder bump as he took the glass in his hand and began drinking the water. “I’m not a little kid, you know.”

“Of course you’re not.” Christian gave him a catlike look of amusement. He was dressed in black slacks and a bright blue sweater. His black hair was neatly combed and he smelled like clean skin and cologne.

Nicholas huffed a breath and thunked the glass down on the counter. He was dressed in his pajamas, his hair was a mess, and he felt absolutely ruined from the night before, and Christian looked like he’d stepped out of a magazine. It just wasn’t fair.

“What?” Christian asked, quirking a brow.

“Nothing,” Nicholas said hurriedly, then felt a twinge of guilt go through him and he couldn’t even say why. He thought maybe he should tell Christian that he was having some of his weird moods again, but then Christian would get all paranoid and they were only going to be in Seattle for a few weeks before they went back to Malibu. Everything was going to be all right and he could maintain for a little while.

“Let’s get some food,” he said, pushing himself so he could be the first one out of the bathroom. Those bright lights would make it easier for Christian to read his face and there wasn’t anyone on the world that knew him better. One good look and it would be over.

“I’ve already called for room service and it should be here…” There was a knock at the door and Christian gave a pleased sounded grunt. “Right on time. You sit at the table.”

Nicholas mock-grumbled as he settled down on one of the chairs at the round table. He tried to flatten his hair with his hands, then gave it up as a lost cause even before Christian let the stiffly uniformed girl in with her service cart of covered dishes.

Pulling his feet up on the chair in front of him, he wrapped his arms around his legs and leaned his cheek against his knees. He watched Christian’s face as he watched the girl arrange the food on the table–scrambled eggs, turkey sausage, Belgian waffles, a whole platter of sliced fruit, orange juice, and coffee–he was very focused on the task.

Most of the time it was great that Christian cared about him so much. It was comforting and made him feel safer than he ever had before in his life. But then there were the times when Christian sacrificed something from his own life to make Nicholas happy and it was too much.

It hadn’t taken Nicholas long to realize that Christian seemed to really get something out of making him happy. There would be a glow about him and he’d have this satisfied smile and he didn’t seem to care what he had to do to give Nicholas whatever he thought he wanted. It was nice to be fawned over a bit and he loved that Christian cared that much about him.

But there were some times when Christian went overboard. He had no problem rearranging his schedule at the tip of a hat if it had something to do with Nicholas, and because of that he’d managed to offend some very important people. He’d lost out on several multi-million dollar deals and not given them a moment’s thought. And when Nicholas had found out what was going on… he’d been horrified to think that he’d been abusing Christian’s kindness and he was a terrible friend.

So he’d been careful about the things he asked for and he kept a copy of Christian’s schedule overlapping his on his phone. He was trying really hard to be responsible and he knew their Seattle trip was anything but a vacation and whatever Chirstian was doing was incredibly important for the future of DeLongeria Enterprises.

His bit of crazy was going to have to take a back burner to Christian’s schedule. Nicholas had made a promise to himself that he would maintain his control this whole trip. He could wait to fall apart when they got home and Christian could call the Doc.

Christian signed the receipt with a flourish, making sure to write in a very generous tip, then watched to make sure the girl and her cart completely left the suite. He was paranoid about that kind of thing, though he’d never said why.

Nicholas grabbed his fork and reached out to begin poking food onto his plate. He was feeling much better than he had when he’d woken up, but that didn’t really mean a whole lot. He still felt as though his head was stuffed full of straw.

“Here, stop, let me do that.” Christian gently pushed his fork out of the way and picked up Nicholas’ plate. He had an easy kind of grace as he used the serving spoons and tongs Nicholas had ignored. “You’re like a savage or something. If I left it up to you, you’d stab things with sticks and cook them over a fire. Or half-cook them knowing you and your impatience.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes and sucked on the tines of his fork. The smell of the food was making his stomach rumble, which was weird because he hadn’t even felt hungry before. “You nag so much I think I can hear your voice in my head even when you’re not there.”

“Good,” Christian set the plate down in front of Nicholas, “hopefully the me in your head at least tries to keep you out of trouble. I could use the support of someone that knows just how wily you can be.”

“Whatever.” Nicholas slid his feet back on the floor, curling his toes against the morning chill. He used his butter knife to first slather his waffle with strawberry jam, then quickly cut it into bite-sized pieces, then shrugged and cut his sausage up too.

Christian prepared two cups of coffee, sliding Nicholas’ across to him first. He always knew just the right amount of sugar and cream to mix in and Nicholas didn’t hesitate to give him a heartfelt “Thank you” before taking the first sip. He already felt as though he was being brought back to life by the delicious brew.

“Eat your breakfast and we’ll call that guy,” Nicholas said, pointing his fork rudely.

“You’re a real class act.” Christian shook his head fondly, but quickly swirled some maple syrup on his own waffle before sitting down to eat. “He better take us to a nice place.”

“You’re a snob.” Nicholas speared a cut strawberry and popped it into his mouth. “I’m the one that will be deciding whether I want to date the guy. Besides, there’s no way you’d let me live in a dirty hovel raising barefoot children, is there?” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Christian’s nostrils flared. “Of course not. Just because you always feel like you need to sacrifice yourself for the good of other people, that doesn’t mean I’d ever let that happen to you.”

Nicholas hid a smile and went about the business of eating. “I’ll call the guy. We can find out if he’s good enough to date me.”

“You don’t have to put it like that,” Christian said. “At least don’t say it like that, especially if we’re in public.”

“It’s just the two of us here right now. Get over it.”

/EXCERPT

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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

Update and Excerpt: Woke Up In Vegas, by Sol Crafter

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

I realize that I seemed to disappear for several days, but that’s because I’ve been doing a handful of different things… all at once

NANOWRIMO — I’m working on my NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) story. If you want to cheer me on, here I am at NaNoWriMo.org: HarperKingsley. The title of the story I’m working on? “Across Two Divides,” by Sol Crafter, which you can find with the rest of the NaNo stories at Smashwords. 100% sampling if you want to read along Across Two Divides.

I’m writing my heart out and I’m actually really enjoying this story. Feedback is much appreciated.

RUMBLE BUNDLE EBOOK GIVEAWAY — I’ve got a giveaway going on. You can enter now and it runs until December 15th. The bundles include exclusive content.

What I’ll be giving out:

10 ebook bundles of “Across Two Divides” and “Woke Up In Vegas,” by Sol Crafter.
10 ebook bundles of “Leviathan,” “Piece of Cake, Slice of Pie,” “Tuesday Night,” “Spun,” and “From Diamond to Coal, Arc 01.”

EXCERPT — Here, enjoy the start of “Woke Up In Vegas,” by Sol Crafter.

Title: Woke Up In Vegas

Author: Sol Crafter

Characters: Riley Curtain, Brent Caldwell, Natasha Swaggart, Geoffrey Heele

Genre: mm contemporary romance

Excerpt Rating: teen+

Warning: there’s some swears. Just a heads up about that

 WOKE UP IN VEGAS

by Sol Crafter

They lay sprawled across the tangled sheets, their faces turned from each other but their dark hair meshing on the pillow. Morning light edged in around the gaps in the curtains and the only sound in the room was their quiet breathing. The second double-bed across from theirs was still made up, a miniature pink bowling bag the only thing to disturb the white-on-white comforter.

The hotel room door slammed open with a panicked “Oh holy shit fuck!” from the woman that burst in. Her blond hair was in wild disarray around her shoulders and her tiny black dress was missing one strap and looked as though it had been hastily pulled down over her head. There were still traces of vivid red lipstick around her mouth and her mascara had been smeared to the point of raccoonishness.

Riley jerked upright on the bed, then clutched his head with a heartfelt groan. His usually sun-gilded skin was sickly and gray, his forehead dotted with sweat. “What?” he rasped, blowing out his cheeks. His stomach roiled unpleasantly and for a second he thought he was about to vomit on himself, but he managed to swallow it back down. “Natasha?”

“You gotta help me, this is so stupid, how could something like this have happened? Why would you let me do this?” she shrilled, digging her hands into her hair.

“Nat. Nat. Natasha!” Once he was sure he’d gotten her attention, Riley patted the air in front of himself with his hand. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What did you do? Why are you freaking out?”

She licked her lips, her wild brown eyes focusing on him. “This,” she said, holding out her left hand.

Riley had to squint to see, then it took a moment for it to click. “Is that a ring?”

“It’s a motherfucking wedding ring!” She shook her hand furiously at him. “I’m that stupid chick that wakes up in Vegas fucking married to some guy I met last night. How the hell could you let this happen to me?”

His mouth just opened and closed soundlessly as he stared at that glint of silver on her ring finger. He remembered her disappearing early in the evening with the guy she’d spotted in the bar and he’d ended up staying longer doing Tokyo Shooters and slurping down Washington Apples until everything turned into a big ol’ memory blank. And sometime in there she had to have gone to the Marriage License Bureau they’d been joking about when they’d come into town and gotten herself married to someone.

Natasha always seemed to get caught up in crazy situations, but this was the first time she’d gotten drunk married and he honestly didn’t know what he was supposed to say. His brain felt slow and he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “I can’t handle this shit right now. I think I still need to sober up.”

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a sour look. “You can’t handle this shit? I can’t handle this shit. I’m the one that went out there and got married to some guy I met in a bar last night. At least you just brought your guy back to your room; you weren’t stupid enough to marry him.”

“What are you talking about?” Riley asked. He was surprised to see that he was still dressed, though he’d lost his shoes and socks somewhere. He was even still wearing the navy blue zip-front hoodie he’d slipped on before they’d gone out.

She pointed next to him on the bed and Riley looked to see a tangle of short dark hair belonging to the back of some man’s head. “Who’s that?” he whispered, giving Natasha a wide-eyed look.

She shrugged. She’d always had an easier time dealing with his drama than sticking to her own. “Who knows. You must have met him after I left you at the bar. You don’t remember him at all?”

Riley shook his head. “I don’t remember talking to anyone. I was just drinking, having a good time.” He pulled his legs up against his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I’m still dressed, so obviously we just came back here to pass out.” He took comfort in that. He’d never been the kind of guy that went out for one-night stands.

“Lucky you,” Natasha said, but the bite was out of her tone. She was peering at the guy curiously, a little furrow appearing between her brows. She’d walked closer to the bed, but the guy was on the side closest to the wall and she couldn’t get a good view of his face.

“So loud, what’s going on?” a sleep-roughened voice asked accompanied by a rustle of sheets being kicked down the bed as the man turned his head to face them. He blinked sleepily and there was a rash of dark stubble on his cheeks, but Riley couldn’t help gaping in recognition.

His breath caught in his throat and his eyes ran up and down the jeans and black tee shirt clad body of Brent Caldwell, his favorite British actor. There was no mistaking that internationally famous face, framed by the white of the pillow and looking like something right out of one of his movies or Riley’s fantasies.

Riley flicked a quick glance at Natasha and had to hope that his eyes didn’t look as crazy as hers did. He forced his lips together and tried to appear cool, though a whimper may have escaped his throat.

Waking up after a night of drunken debauchery with a handsome movie star like Brent Caldwell had been the kind of thing he’d dreamed of as a teenager–a nerdy, lonely, gay teenager. Actually waking up with Brent Caldwell himself might have just blown something in his brain, though he was a bit disappointed to have both of them be clothed. He didn’t even have any happy aches in private places to feed his spank bank for the future, because there was no way something this awesome could ever happen again.

“Oh, it’s you.” Brent Caldwell gave him a warm smile that made something shift low in Riley’s belly. “How are you feeling? You were pretty wasted.”

/EXCERPT

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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

EXCERPT: “Awakened,” by Harper Kingsley

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

Title: Awakened

Author: Harper Kingsley

Genre: superhero, genhet

Excerpt rating: teen

A/N: Set in the H&V universe.

Summary: She’s a stranger in her own skin and she’s awakened once again. The world will tremble at her feet for she is a goddess given the flesh of a girl that died long ago, but she refused to lay down and let it take her.

AWAKENED

by Harper Kingsley

 

The whole room reeked of moist death.

It took her a moment to realize that she was nude and actually a little cold. Her skin prickled with goose flesh, but it seemed a rather distant thing.

Water dripped down the cinder block walls and there was a musty, not-quite unpleasant odor in the air, like mushrooms growing.

Somehow she thought that maybe she should be afraid, but she really wasn’t.

One minute there had been nothing, then a blinding light, and now she was here, wherever here was. And strangely enough she wasn’t even remotely frightened.

Looking down at herself, she was surprised to see delicately formed golden flesh. There was a thatch of tangled black hair between her legs, but the rest of her was childishly smooth. Except for the quickly drying blood that stained her hands and arms nearly to her elbows.

Taking a tentative step forward, her bare feet rubbed across the strange occult symbols chalked onto the floor, carelessly destroying whatever they formed.

It felt strange to walk, but not completely unfamiliar. It was as though she hadn’t done it for a long time, near to forever, but the memory was returning.

Where am I? she thought, then was minutely surprised by the “sound” of her internal voice. It didn’t sound like anyone she knew, much less herself.

Shrugging off such inconsequential thoughts, she kept walking toward where she saw stairs ahead in the gloom.

She was in a basement somewhere, though how she knew that she didn’t know. There was an odd blankness in her mind where memories should have been.

Shrugging off the strangeness of not knowing where she was, how she’d gotten here, or when she focused on it even when she was… she headed toward the stairs and the vague idea of going Out.

Something stirred in the dimness beyond her circle of light. There was a low growling sound and her heart let off a stuttering beat that had nothing to do with fear as much as an unnamed excitement then…

She was at the bottom of the stairs with no real idea how she’d gotten there. But nothing else moved.

With a sigh, she lifted her foot and began climbing up and up.

Sprawled across the landing at the top of the stairs was the blood-covered figure of a dark haired man. He had no face, just a bloody mask that covered him from forehead to breastbone, the flesh savagely ripped away to show the secrets hidden beneath.

She stood looking at him for a moment, but when he didn’t move she shrugged again.

Leaning forward she dug through the pockets of his jeans. She found some crumpled bills and a pair of car keys.

She glanced at the door, then sighed.

With carefully impersonal hands she stripped the man–the nameless body–of pants and gray tee shirt. She left the shoes as too big for her small feet and the underwear as too gross, but figured bloodstained clothes she swam in were better than nothing. There was the vague thought of being arrested for indecency, though she really couldn’t make herself care other than it would be inconvenient to the mission.

The mission?

She furrowed her brow, but whatever thought she’d had was gone.

Shrugging, she walked to the door. It was a plain wood door with a latch she quickly lifted with a loud “chnnk” sound.

Opening it and stepping out, she found herself on a city street. Turning back, she was minutely surprised to find the door gone and only a plain brick wall left behind.

She thought that maybe she should have been upset, but she didn’t have it in her to even be surprised.

Her bare feet gently slapped the pavement as she wandered down the nighttime street.

She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she assumed she would know it when she found it.

 

Walking down city streets in overlarge clothes and barefoot should have attracted attention… but the streets were strangely barren. It was as though she was the only person in the whole world.

She had the overriding feeling that things were very wrong. It was a vague tingling at the base of her spine.

Her stride became smoother and more assured the more steps she took. It was as though she was slipping deeper into her own skin, fitting into herself better.

There was a thrumming along her nerves and it was stronger toward a southerly direction. So that was the way she went.

Some unnamed something in her chest was stretching and making itself felt, letting her know it was there and ready to face the world.

Gliding smoothly from one lit street lamp to another, she barely felt the cool night air against her skin. She knew it was cold enough she should have been uncomfortable, but she wasn’t. She felt the breeze brush over her, but it had as little affect as the rough ground under her feet. What was would be.

She looked around her, her head moving back and forth as she tried to figure out who she was and where she was going.

But there was nothing.

* * *

Luke’s teeth chattered as the icy water lapped up over his hipbones. He could feel his skin prickling with gooseflesh and would have groaned about the cold except for the Muffler strapped over his mouth. It kept him from being able to make any sound at all.

He could feel the rest of his team tied up against one wall behind him, but the machine strapped to the back of his neck kept him from turning his head and making sure that they were okay.

“Come on, man, why are you doing this? Why would you ever want to kill so many people?” Clara asked, trying to sound tough, but not really being able to hide her fear.

The nameless madman snorted. “Don’t even think about trying to appeal to my sympathies because I don’t have any. I’m going to do what I want, and there’s nothing any of you so-called heroes can do about it. So why don’t you just lay back and enjoy watching the world burn?”

Luke clenched his fists in impotent rage, but manacles were too hard for him to break in his current normal human strength.

The icy water rose higher, lipping its way up passed his belly button. He could feel his testicles trying to shrink their way back up into his body.

He wished he could be over with his teammates, his family, but the guy had known what he was doing with his special trap for him. The freezing water kept him from being able to use his powers and relegated him to mere mortal status. Which totally sucked balls.

The prancing villain in the yellow poncho waved his weather control remote like a baton. “I’m going to disrupt the weather of the whole planet. You ever seen that movie ‘The Day After Tomorrow?’ Well, this is going to be much worse.”

“Dude, when you reenact the Ice Age, you’re going to die too,” Gary pointed out in his ever logical way.

The guy snorted again. “I could really give a damn.”

Luke felt his stomach sing. A suicidal megalomaniac with the capability to destroy the whole world and everyone on it.

The situation was looking just a little bit dire.

And that’s when things got really weird…

The six inch thick steel doors crackled and bent at a hammering of mighty fists. Whoever was on the other side definitely wanted in.

A look of surprise flitted across the madman’s face. “I have all of you so-called superheroes here with me. So who could that be knock-knock-knocking at my door?”

“Why don’t you answer it and find out?” Lily asked from her plastic bubble prison.

“Yes, why don’t I do that, and whoever’s out there can crush me like a bug.” The guy snorted. “No, I’m much smarter than that.”

He crossed over to his gigantic computer console and took a seat before the keyboard. His fingers flashed as he realigned his cameras outside.

“And what’s this? We’ve got a mystery girl out there.” The guy grinned at them. “Someone new is trying to play hero. It’s always so cute when some teen new-egg is ready to show their baby powers for the first time.”

Luke felt a flutter of fear in his stomach. The thought of some kid thinking she had to take on a supervillain because the veteran talent was all tied up was really kind of horrifying.

It was one of the prime ways that teen supers died.

The hammering on the door continued, fists slamming like pistons into the steel. She was determined to get in and nothing was going to stop her.

Finally there was a loud splintering noise and the door burst open with a thunderous crash. The slight figure of a teenage girl stood haloed there.

“Is this where I’m supposed to be?” she asked, her soft voice unsure.

“Well, well, well, a wee little girl,” the madman chortled, then raised his voice, “Come right on in, my dear. The more the merrier, I always say.”

The girl stepped forward, her bare feet making no sound on the cement floor. She was dressed in clothes that had obviously belonged to a much larger man. And…

“Is that blood all over her?” Gary asked.

Looking at her, unable to say anything at all, Luke felt a rush of pity go through him. Something bad had happened to the girl, and now she was here in the lair of a madman where she was going to die like the rest of them.

Her eyes were blank when she stepped under the light. An amazingly beautiful girl with long black hair and golden skin. Blood coated her hands like gloves, a few drops had dried as dark blobs across her cheeks–probably arterial spray.

“And who are you?” the madman asked, trying unsuccessfully to make his voice sound soothing, friendly. He just sounded like an asshole.

The girl blinked slowly. “I don’t know. There was light… then I woke up. Is this where I’m supposed to be? I thought this was where I was supposed to be.”

The man grinned. It was very unpleasant. “Of course this is where you’re supposed to be. Why don’t you come on in here?”

She stepped slowly forward, hesitantly coming forward. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes flicked around the room, came to Luke and paused there a long second before returning to the man.

“We’re just having a little party, everyone invited. And now you’re here too,” he said, raising his hand, palm outward.

Luke wanted to scream at her to run, heard his teammates screaming from where they were tied up, but there was nothing they could do, it was already much too late.

The girl didn’t make a sound, though her mouth dropped open in a small “o” of surprise when she was lifted up and slammed against the far wall with a deafening thud. She struck so hard that cracks spread out on the cinder block walls from the impact.

She fell to the floor limply, her hair covering her face.

“See? That wasn’t hard at all,” the madman laughed. “She thought that she was so tough, breaking down that door, but look at her now.”

Luke felt his shoulders wanting to slump, but the machine he was attached to didn’t allow him even that much motion. Even though he had known it was hopeless, for one little second there he had actually hoped that maybe things would turn out all right.

He had never realized how horrible a feeling it was to know that the world was about to end and there was nothing to do about it. After all his effort, all he could do was watch the world be swallowed by destruction. To know that he had done everything he could, and that it still wasn’t nearly enough.

Helpless tears burned his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. There was no way he was going to give that asshole the satisfaction.

He was sunk so deep in despair that he didn’t know how to respond when a young female voice said, “That was really rather rude of you.”

His eyes went wide when he saw that the girl had climbed back to her feet, not a single mark on her. Though now she didn’t look nearly so blank and empty as she had before.

There was a spark of fire in her dark eyes, her lips pressed into a hard line. “I don’t know why you did that… but I don’t think I like you very much.”

Even though through his momentary surprise, the madman still laughed. “You don’t like me very much? Heh. You’re tougher than you look, but that’s not going to help you here and now.”

“I don’t need any help,” the girl said, her voice suddenly coming out strong. She didn’t look nearly so young and innocent anymore. Even in the bloodstained men’s clothes she wore, she didn’t look like anyone’s victim.

“She’s going to get herself killed,” Clara said.

“Get out of here, girl!” Gary yelled. “Go call the League! He’s going to kill you!”

“You heard them, little girl, I’m going to kill you. Slowly, just the way a pretty girl like you should die.”

Luke wanted to scream at the girl, wanted to save at least one thing today, but there was nothing he could do. The icy water had risen up his stomach and was brushing just below his armpits.

He couldn’t save her. He couldn’t even save himself.

* * *

She couldn’t explain what she was doing here. It was as though some overriding instinct had led her to this place and time. And with her complete lack of memory, there was nowhere she could even imagine being.

When he had raised his hand and flung her against a wall without a single touch, she had been surprised. She hadn’t known that such a thing was even possible until she was rushing through the air in an out-of-control tumble.

She thought that maybe it was supposed to have hurt. There should have been a crack and pop of breaking bone and maybe she should have even been killed.

But there had been none of that.

Striking the wall had felt like being thrown into a pile of foam rubber. There had been the surprise of sudden flight and sudden stopping, but there had been no pain. And picking herself up had been the easiest thing of all.

Maybe she should have wanted to just lay there, to run away from what he might do next, but there had been no hesitation in her. She had stood up, and it had been the rightest thing in the world.

An ember of latent rage had begun to burn in her heart.

He had dared to strike her. He had dared to think that he could ever best her.

Her, that no man could ever hope to stand against. He had thought that with his tiny little power he could bring her low. Which was ridiculous, because there was no one in the world that could hope to defeat her for she was…

Who was she?

For a second it had felt as though there was a name emblazoned on her heart, but then it was gone. But the rage was still there. The power was still there. And there was no way she was going to let a loser like that think he could defeat her so easily.

“I’m going to hurt you now,” she said, in that stranger’s voice that she now recognized as her own. “I’m going to make you suffer a pain the likes of which you have never known. And when I’m done… they’re going to be carrying you out of here in several different buckets.”

“Strong words from such a weak girl,” he sneered.

She felt her lips twisting in something only a fool would call a smile. “If you really think I’m weak… I guess I’ll have to show you otherwise.”

He laughed disbelievingly. “Yeah, right. There’s nothing you can do to…”

She didn’t know what instinct was driving her body, but she got in what felt like the most natural pose in the world for her. Her feet braced about six inches apart and her two fists in front of her.

He saw her and just laughed harder. “You really think you’re going to get close enough for a physical fight? Don’t be ridiculous. I can hold you away with the power of my mind forever if need be.”

“Be that as it may,” she said, feeling determination rise up inside her. “I think I feel the need to put you in your place.”

She didn’t know where this sudden sense of empowerment came from, but it filled her completely. No one was allowed to talk to her as this man had. To mock her, laugh at her, look down upon her… the very concept was anathema. She was as far beyond him as the sky was from the ground, and he should tremble in her very presence for her power was great.

It felt to her as though the ground should tremble beneath her feet when she strode forward, her entire being centered on causing him the most pain imaginable. She could only assume that such an act would bring her great happiness.

She could feel his mental hands scrabbling against her skin, trying to hold her in place, but she shrugged them off with all of the power of a Titan shaking off water droplets.

“I am going to make you scream,” she said, feeling a strange and dark smile twist her lips. It felt very familiar.

His eyes went so wide that the whites were huge and the pupils were nothing but little pinpricks. It made her want to laugh, something she couldn’t explain. It was just so delightful to know that she could affect someone like that. To bring someone such fear… delicious.

He tried to get away from her, tried to duck out of her grasp, but he was about a thousand times too slow. It didn’t even feel as though she was moving fast, but as though the world around her had slowed to nothing more than a crawl.

Her hands latched onto both of his arms, and it was nothing at all for her to grip, twist, and pull.

He may have screamed, but all she heard was the rushing of blood in her ears, the wonderful power singing in her veins. There was a splash of warm against the backs of her hands as the blood from his wrenched off arms sprayed out of him.

Somewhere she heard someone laughing, and it took her a moment to realize that it was her. Just this uncontrollable bark of mirthful laughter bubbling up from deep inside.

/EXCERPT

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EXCERPT: “Dandelion: 1988,” by Harper Kingsley

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

Title: Dandelion: 1988

Author: Harper Kingsley

Rating for excerpt: PG

Warning: sick kid in the hospital

Summary: When Danny was young he had a brother that he loved very much.

DANDELION: 1988

Sitting on the lumpy waiting room couch it was a struggle for the small boy not to fidget. His legs still stung from the pinches he’d already earned himself and he didn’t want anymore.

Danny peeked at his mom out of the corner of his eye. She had rolled up a Woman’s Day magazine and kept twisting and twisting it in her two hands, her eyes staring sightlessly at the TV on the far wall. There was some news channel playing, but it wasn’t the local 13 they usually watched.

He thought that maybe the TV was playing cable and he wanted to ask the nurse at the big desk if she could put it on Nickelodeon. They didn’t have cable at home — Mom said it was too expensive — but he’d seen episodes of “You Can’t Do That On Television” at his cousins’ house. They even had HBO and he guessed that was really expensive.

Danny licked his lips, then winced at the sting of his chapped flesh. His mom had gotten him a little jar of Carmex but he hated it. He didn’t like having it all over his finger and the smell made his eyes water. Paul said it was because he was a baby, but Mom always told him to hush his mouth. Then Danny would smirk and Paul would stomp off to the bedroom mad.

“When are they bringing Paul back out?” he whispered, then braced himself for another “Shut up” pinch.

He almost wished for the pinch when his mom’s face twisted up and she started sobbing into her hands, the magazine pressing against the side of her face. She’d been so tired lately and he knew something was really wrong but no one would tell him anything. Now they were back at the hospital again and he knew it was really bad.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” he cried, tears spilling from his eyes. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.” He patted at her arm, his palm itching from the rough scuff of her wool coat. It was an ugly green color, but she’d been really happy when she’d found it at the Salvation Army. That’s when she’d gotten them their bunk-beds too with her second paycheck from her new job. The first check had gone to pay off Mr. Landry, their landlord.

He didn’t really like her coat because it made his skin itch, but she’d been so happy that day. She’d laughed and sang silly songs as she baked them chocolate cupcakes. It had been one of the best days of his whole life and things had been good after that. Until Paul got sick again.

Moving slowly, Danny climbed up on his knees and wrapped his arms around his mom. He buried his face in her curly brown hair — she permed it herself from a box kit and he’d gotten to help her the last time. He’d liked winding the strands of her hair around the plastic curlers and snapping them in place. The chemicals she’d squirted on her hair had made the whole bathroom stink, but she’d smiled so brightly when he’d said her hair looked pretty.

She wasn’t smiling now and her usually strong arms felt thin and weak around him. He hugged her as tight as he could, trying to tell her that he was strong and brave and he would take care of her this time.

He rested his cheek against her curly hair and breathed in the scent of her — sweet smelling lotion, the nearly copper penny smell of her makeup, and the cigarettes she tried to pretend she didn’t smoke. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he said, patting her shoulder blade. It was what she always said to him and it made him feel safe.

She just let him hold her, something she rarely did. His mom was always in motion–cooking, cleaning, dancing–though in her tired moments she would wrap her arms around him and hug him close, keeping him safe. She loved to hold him, but she refused to be held. If he startled her, she would flinch away and he would feel sick in his stomach.

She was letting him hold her now and he knew she was really upset. Paul had gotten sick more and more lately and he’d fallen and hurt his leg. Danny had seen it, the whole lower half of his left leg was nearly black. Mom had screamed when she saw it and wrapped it up with a smelly rag that was supposed to help and hurried them out of the apartment and into a cab where they rushed to the hospital.

The nurses had taken one look at Paul and zoomed him away. That had been a long time ago.

“Don’t worry, Mom. It’s going to be all right,” Danny said.

She huffed a laugh and pulled out of his arms. Her arms twisted around his and suddenly he was being pulled into the circle of her embrace and shifted around until he was sitting on her lap. He felt her nuzzle against the top of his head and she held him so close he could feel her heartbeat through the layers of her shirt.

Her hand began patting his back in an absentminded gesture as she shifted him to cradle him in her arms. He felt a flare of embarrassment at being held like a baby, but he didn’t try to pull away even though there were other people in the waiting room. He’d let himself be treated like a baby forever if it made her feel better. She needed him.

When she began to rock him a little, he wanted to be irritated; instead he closed his eyes and listened to her heart beating through her skin. The pat of her hand felt like another heartbeat, one that he could hear and feel all through his back in a gentle rhythm.

He couldn’t help yawning. It was the middle of the night and the hospital had been cold, but his mom was warm and safe.

He fell asleep to her patting his back, pausing only a moment to pull her coat around them both. The wool prickled his cheek but he didn’t care.

 

Danny woke to find himself lying on the couch with his mom’s coat covering him. He lifted his head and blinked his eyes as he looked around. His toes flexed in his socks; his mom must have taken his shoes off.

His mom was standing with a doctor, the man’s stethoscope hanging from the pocket of his white coat. He was tall and balding, his white-gray hair just a circle around his head, and he wore a mustard yellow shirt and a dark blue tie.

Danny was confused to see the doctor hold his mom by the upper arms with both hands. He was saying something, but it was too soft for Danny to hear. Whatever he said must have been bad though because Mom started crying, big fat trickling tears that poured from her eyes and dripped off the end of her chin.

Danny scrambled off the couch, dropping his mom’s coat behind him, and ran across the floor in his socked feet to wrap his arms around his mother’s waist, laying his smooth cheek against her back. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew it was bad.

He wondered if Paul was dead.

Then he was crying too. He couldn’t help it and the more he tried to stop, the more the tears came. All the worry and stress filling him up inside needed somewhere to go.

He felt his mom turn and wrap her arms around him, but she was more focused on the doctor. “When do you need to do it?”

“As soon as we can arrange an OR,” the doctor said.

“Can we… can we see him?” Mom asked, her voice cracking.

Danny lifted his head from his mom’s chest and turned to look at the doctor. The man looked uncomfortable and busy and Danny thought that maybe the doctor would rather run away than talk to them.

“You can have a short visit,” the doctor said, then spared a glance toward Danny. “We can have one of the nurse’s keep an eye on your son.”

“No, I want to see Paul too!” Danny insisted loudly.

“Son, I don’t think you…”

“He stays with me,” Mom said firmly, her hands clenching on Danny’s shoulders. “Please, can we see Paul?”

The doctor raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll take you to him.”

Danny held his mom’s hand as they followed the doctor through the double doors and down endless seeming corridors. It was nighttime, but Danny still saw a whirlwind of people and flashing electronic lights and there were so many strange smells and sounds that he gripped her hand tighter to keep from being lost. Everything was so frightening here and he wished they could go home.

But Paul needed him to be strong.

They walked until they reached a room with the brick red door closed. There were lots of open windows around looking into rooms with people attached to all kinds of machines and resting in frightening poses on bendy hospital beds. Everything seemed scary and large and Danny stuck close to his mom’s side, hating the cold medicine smell that covered everything.

The doctor opened the door and Mom tugged Danny inside. The room was bright white and Paul looked pale and sweaty on the hospital bed, a thin blue blanket tucked up around his chest.

Paul smiled when he saw them, though it was tired and small. “Mom. Danny. I’m glad you’re here.”

Danny glanced up to Mom when she didn’t say anything, just silently led him toward the bed and released his hand to reach out toward Paul. She didn’t say anything, so he felt like he had to. “Why would we be anywhere else?” Danny asked. “We’re always here when you’re in the hospital.”

Paul gave him a very faint grin. “You’re getting pretty quick, little brother.”

Danny sniffled, trying to keep from crying. He rubbed his eyes with his hands and tried to only look at Paul’s face. He felt like whatever they were covering with the blanket must look pretty bad.

Moving slowly, Danny walked around to the other side of the bed and carefully leaned over to give Paul a kiss on the cheek. He heard the doctor loudly tell him to be careful, but Mom hushed him because she knew Danny was always really careful around Paul. He knew his brother was delicate, not tough like him.

“I was scared,” Danny said, touching the ends of Paul’s messy brown hair with just his fingers. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

“‘Cause it didn’t hurt,” Paul said. There was a pinched look to his face and his blue eyes were dark rimmed like bruises. There were tubes running up and down his left arm and his chest looked skinnier than ever in the thin hospital gown.

“But it hurts now?” Danny cocked his head.

“Yeah,” Paul admitted, “it hurts now.”

“Oh baby.” Mom held Paul’s right hand against her cheek and though she always tried not to cry in front of Paul, fat tears trickled down her cheeks.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Paul said in his pain-thinned, old man’s voice. “I’m not scared.”

“Scared of what?” Danny asked. He glanced at his mom, but her eyes were squeezed tight shut. He looked at Paul, his older brother that was the bravest person he knew. “What’s happening?”

Paul sighed, but his blue eyes were clear when he looked at Danny. “They’re going to cut off my leg.”

“What?” Danny glanced down the blanket at where Paul’s leg was covered. “Why would they do that?”

“Because there’s too much trapped old blood and they need to cut it off to save my life,” Paul said. “If they don’t do it soon I could die.”

“But…” Danny licked his lips. “I thought it was really dangerous if you got cut.”

“It is,” Paul said, “but they’re doctors and they can give me medicine during the surgery.”

“But your leg,” Danny moaned. His face twisted and he squeezed his hands into tight fists.

Paul’s pale lips curved in a slight smile and he slowly reached out with his left hand to cup Danny’s cheek. Wires and cords and tubes pumping liquid would not stop him from comforting Danny, that’s how strong he was. That’s why he was Danny’s hero.

“My leg or my life,” Paul said. “I can get along with one leg. It’s not a hard choice at all.”

Mom began to sob loudly and laid Paul’s hand back down so she could cover her mouth. “I… I’ll be right back,” her voice broke. She hurried toward the door and disappeared into the hallway, the doctor following her out.

“I need you to do me a favor,” Paul whispered. His eyes blazed like trapped blue fire in the sallow paleness of his face.

“Anything,” Danny breathed, staring into his brother’s eyes.

Paul licked his dry lips. “If I don’t make it, you gotta look after Mom. I don’t think she’ll take it well, so you gotta watch after her.”

“No,” Danny cried.

“Danny,” Paul said sternly, “I need you to promise me. You can’t be scared and act like a baby. Mom’ll need you.”

Tears and snot mixed on Danny’s upper lip, but he nodded. “I’ll take care of her,” he said. “I promise.”

Paul smiled at him. “Good. It makes me feel better because I know I can count on you.”

“You’re… you’re not really going to die, are you?” Danny asked.

“I’m going to try not to,” Paul said, “but sometimes bad stuff happens even when you don’t want it to.”

“But you’ll try your best to live, right?” Danny needed the reassurance, needed to know that Paul wasn’t going to give up.

“Of course I’m going to try my best.” Paul pointed toward a red cup sitting on a counter across the room. “Can you bring me that?”

Danny trotted across the room and picked up the cup that rattled with ice and brought it back to his brother. “Do you need help?”

“I’ve got it.” Paul’s hands shook as he carefully peeled the lid off the cup and reached in to fish out a single ice cube. He stuck the ice in his mouth and audibly sighed in relief as he sucked on it. “My mouth gets so dry.”

Danny leaned against the side of the bed, watching to make sure he didn’t hurt his brother. “Are they really going to cut off your leg? That’s the only thing they can do? They can’t just give you medicine to make you better?”

Paul ate another piece of ice. “I talked to the doctor and he showed me what my leg looks like and what it means. Yeah, they’ve gotta cut it off to save my life.”

Danny licked his lips. “Are you scared?”

“The scaredest I’ve ever been in my life.” Paul huffed a laugh. “Sometimes, Danny, you still have to do things even if they’re really scary. I just… I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”

Danny saw Paul’s lower lip quiver, but he also saw that Paul was trying hard to be strong. He looked around, but Mom was still gone.

He looked at the side of the bed and Paul trying so hard to pretend that he wasn’t upset. “Can I lay down with you?” he asked.

Paul blinked, then smiled. It was a small and tired version of his usual grin, but it was real. “Sure, just be careful climbing up.”

Moving carefully, Danny climbed up on the bed. He settled on his stomach and tucked his hands under himself so he didn’t bump Paul.

He’d seen the way his brother winced when the bed was jostled, but he also knew Paul would be happier not to be alone. So he nestled close, but made sure his arms and feet didn’t knock against Paul.

He hated the smell of the hospital, hated that Paul was always so sick all the time.

Danny didn’t really understand what was wrong with Paul’s blood or what “hemophilia” really meant, but he knew there were trips to the hospital. Paul needed to be treated delicately because he would bruise at even the smallest bump and it would hurt him for days and days. There were time when Paul would have bruises all over his face and they would appear by themselves sometime while he was sleeping. And Paul had to take all kinds of medicines that he said were awful.

More than anything, Danny wished that Paul wasn’t sick. It was an old wish, one he’d thought many times, but never spoke aloud, not where Paul or Mom could hear. He didn’t know why, but he was afraid to ever say the words because he felt as though something terrible would happen.

Paul was sick, but it was something they never talked about. Paul would take his medicine and Danny would always try to help his big brother, but they never talked about why Paul was sick. It was just something that had always existed.

Danny felt Paul’s hand rest on his shoulder and he held perfectly still, closing his eyes.

He breathed in the stink of the hospital and felt Paul’s hand as a weight against him. He was tired and confused and something horrible and permanent was going to be done to Paul. There was so much happening all at one time and it was really late at night and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

“Oh no, Danny get down from there!” came his mom’s voice. She sounded upset and he wanted to get up, but he was too tired to do anything more than open his eyelids for a second before they pinned themselves back down.

“It’s all right, Mom,” Paul whispered. “He’s not hurting anything.”

“You shouldn’t have let him up there,” Mom said, but her voice was softer, less sharp. “Are you okay, honey?”

“It’s all right, Mom. We knew something like this could happen. Well, not like this, but we knew something could happen.” Paul gave a watery sigh. “I don’t want to die, so I’ll lose a leg instead.”

Mom sounded close, on the other side of the bed, when she said, “How did you get so strong?”

Paul gave a faint chuckle. “I must have had a really great mom.”

There was the sound of a muffled sniffle. “Oh baby,” cloth rustled and Danny pictured Mom hugging Paul, “I can’t believe something like this could happen. It just seems as though we always have such rotten luck.” She sucked in a breath. “They say they have to amputate your leg and there’s no other choice.”

“It’s going to be all right,” Paul sounded like a grown up, not a fourteen year old kid. He was amazingly calm and Danny couldn’t help being soothed into slumber by the safety Paul made him feel.

The sound of Paul and Mom’s voices rose and fell around him. He could feel the tension and fear, but he was just a little boy and it had been near his bedtime before they even came to the hospital and it was long passed by now. With the sounds of their voices around him, he could ignore the alien sound of machines and focus on the sound of his brother and mother and not being alone.

/EXCERPT

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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

The Panic Pure

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

The Panic Pure is one of those stories that came out of me in a great big rush of words and images, like my head exploded. Then it sputtered, and now it’s slowed to a trickle. I’m still writing on it, but it’s getting harder and harder.

MIXED DEETS:

Daniel “Danny” Worth — After the murder of his parents, he was raised by his abusive maternal aunt, Lauren Green. It’s all in the past now–he got her out of his life and away from his company–and he is a successful, if “eccentric” businessman. He lives a life of rules and routines and medication. He has come a long way after years of  hard work and therapy. He has everything he could ever want, but he’s lonely.

Marshal Newman — His grandparents took him in when he was a kid whenever his parents would dump him off. He enjoyed watching the storybook romance his grandparents shared and he always dreamed of a love like that for his own. It had always seemed like a hopeless wish before, until he met Danny for the first time.

One is afraid all the time, and the other is desperately searching for the love of his life. Together they’ve found a delicate happiness. One that is about to be destroyed by a dangerous serial killer.

Businessman and FBI agent by day, lovestruck fools by night.

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Please do not steal my words. In a hundred years they are all that will be left of me.

Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard… with alcohol

Harper Kingsley - Author of sci-fi and fantasy, loves to babble about books, movies, comics, and whatever

A lot of times the “you” spoken of here is really “me.” This is real talk here, so I wanted to use my “speaking” voice, and if you’ve ever heard me speak live you’d know that I have an odd way of talking. I never try to lay blame on someone (sometimes my temper gets away from me) so nothing here is aimed at any particular person.

“If you don’t have something nice to say, then don’t say anything at all.”

Chapter 1. Please be careful while drinking alcohol.

I’m not a big drinker, but I’ve hung out with people that could really put it away. There may be an idiom about fish in there. And even though I try to be the voice of logic, I’m not always there or maybe I’m incapacitated in some way — I’m easily distracted by video games and TV — and at some point you want to start believing that you’re dealing with adults that know their limits.

It’s just that sometimes limits get misjudged and you have a terrifying experience. If you’re just partying and having a good time, there should be no reason for you to get black out drunk. That’s usually something people do to avoid their problems or because they might have issues with alcohol.

There’s a very fine line between “tipsy” and “drunk” and “Did that really just happen?” And that line is usually just a couple of drinks, especially if someone slips you doubles or triples without bothering to let you know.

I had that happen to me once by a bartender friend. He thought he was being nice to me by slipping me extra shots in my drinks, but it was a jerk move not telling me. When I stood up, it was like it all hit me at once and I could barely walk, my after work cocktail turned into a real ordeal. Good thing I didn’t drive or I would have had to pick up my car the next day. I was always careful with drinks served by him after that.

I’m 5’2″ and I know my limits in general. Two shots will have me giggly, three and I’m feeling no pain. Any more than that and there’s a chance I’ll be hurking before the night is through. The problem is, I like to have my shots in mixed drinks like strawberry daiquiris, lemon drops, oatmeal cookies, etc., which can make it hard to tell exactly how many shots have been mixed in unless I’m actually watching my drink be prepared.

So I can understand how someone could get “Oh crap!” drunk. But there are things you can do during or after either for yourself or a friend.

Here’s “How to Take Care of a Drunk Person: 9 Steps”: http://www.wikihow.com/Take-Care-of-a-Drunk-Person

A Blood Alcohol Content (BAC) calculator is pretty helpful. Put in your weight and go through figuring out how many of your favorite alcoholic beverages you can put away, maybe even write them on a note card you put in your wallet. You’ll have a reference to work with. “Blood Alcohol Content (BAC) Calculator:  http://www.medindia.net/doctors/calculators/blood_alcohol.asp

 

One time, my friend got so drunk he threw up in his bed TWICE and couldn’t manage to get up and really clean it. He just bundled the sheet on the floor and curled up on his side with his face hanging over the edge. He may possibly have removed his shirt, I don’t know, I wasn’t there. But anyway you look at it, he could have died that night. Later he got a DUI, but that’s a different story.

Anyone have any stories?

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