Lex Chase's Blog, page 7
April 21, 2016
[Flash Fiction Friday] Asta Idonea with “It’s a Dog’s Life”
Hello, Internet! Flash Fiction Friday is back, baby! Kicking things off, we have Asta Idonea dropping by with It’s a Dog’s Life. An adorable little tale about one young man’s attempt to woo another by way of a costume party. But he seems to have missed the memo…
It’s a Dog’s Life
by Asta Idonea
Peter twisted from left to right, studying his reflection in the mirror. He looked good. Fancy dress wasn’t usually his thing, but he’d gone all out on his costume when Christie informed him Jake was going to be there. Her manner as she provided this information was so innocent he’d known at once that she was on to him. Apparently he’d not kept his three-month-long crush as secret as he’d thought. Tonight was the night though—make or break. He’d ask Jake out, and then he’d know, once and for all, if there was any hope for his infatuation.
Jake loved dogs; hence Peter’s choice of costume. Jake would think he looked adorable and wouldn’t be able to resist. That was the plan anyway. He did look cute, didn’t he? He checked in the mirror again and gave his tail an experimental shake. Yep, definitely cute. Surely Jake couldn’t say no.
Butterflies kamikaze-dive-bombed his stomach as he parked and crossed the street. He reached the front door, took a deep breath, and rang the bell. He knew something was wrong the moment the door opened. Christie’s smile faltered and she coughed in a way that sounded suspiciously like a repressed laugh.
“Peter. You look…. Come in.”
When he stepped into the room, he understood. Indeed, he was surprised he hadn’t cottoned on when Christie came to the door wearing a sequined black number. No one else was in costume.
He felt eyes upon him and leant in to hiss into Christie’s ear. “What the hell, Christie? You told me this was a sodding fancy dress party!”
“It was, but we changed our plans late last week. I’m sure I told you.” She had the decency to blush at least, but he doubted she was anywhere near as red-faced as he.
“Well, you didn’t.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I have to leave.” He started to turn, eager to get out before anyone else spotted him.
“Well, well, well. What have we here then? Heel, boy. Good Fido.”
Peter tried, and failed, to suppress a groan. Christie’s brother was a complete git. Of all the people to notice him, he was the worst. Well, maybe not the worst. At least it hadn’t been Jake.
He twisted back and attempted a smile. “Evening, Mark.”
Mark guffawed and looked around at his friends, several of whom clustered behind him. “Anyone lose a flea-bitten mongrel?”
“Mark, stop it.” As always, Christie’s weak admonishment did no good. The curse faced by all little sisters, Peter supposed.
“It ain’t Halloween,” someone else yelled.
“Someone tell that to the walking shag carpet here,” Mark said between cackles. “Tell you what. If you roll over, I’ll let you hump my leg later.”
The crowd burst into raucous laughter, and Peter turned and marched out. He heard Christie call after him, but he ignored her and kept walking. This was a disaster. The only saving grace was that Jake hadn’t—
“Hey, Peter. Wait up!”
He froze at the all-too-familiar voice. Jake jogged over and placed a hand on his shoulder. Peter was in such a state of dismay by that point, he allowed Jake to turn him without uttering a word.
“Don’t mind those jerks,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “Come back to the party. I think your costume looks great. Especially that cute little black nose.” He hesitated a moment; then slowly, watchful of Peter’s reaction, he leant in and placed a light kiss on the end of said appendage.
Jake stayed by his side the rest of the night and, thanks to his presence, Peter was able to take the jokes and jibes in good humour. They arranged to meet for coffee the next day; and when Peter headed home, he held his head high and his tail wagged at a jaunty angle behind him.
Author Bio
Asta Idonea (aka Nicki J Markus) was born in England, but now lives in Adelaide, South Australia. She has loved both reading and writing from a young age and is also a keen linguist, having studied several foreign languages.
Asta launched her writing career in 2011 and divides her efforts not only between MM and mainstream works but also between traditional and indie publishing. Her works span the genres, from paranormal to historical and from contemporary to fantasy. It just depends what story and which characters spring into her mind!
As a day job, Asta works as a freelance editor and proofreader, and in her spare time she enjoys music, theater, cinema, photography, and sketching. She also loves history, folklore and mythology, pen-palling, and travel; all of which have provided plenty of inspiration for her writing.
Website
Facebook Author Page
Goodreads
April 5, 2016
Chasing Sunrise Blog Tour Kicks Off!
Hello, Internet! It’s here! Chasing Sunrise Release Day! Celebrate! I feel like I’ve been waiting on this book forever. Oh man. The wait on the DSP Publications Coming Soon page is like eternity.
Today, I have a triple play! I’m over at The Novel Approach for a new edition of Genre Talk! Carole Cummings has me in the hot seat, and she poses some great questions.
I’m over at the DSP Publications blog too with “Why Cannibals?” Why would I write about cannibals who are the good guys? Read on and see!
And then I’m hanging out at Divine Magazine talking more about the aisa, said race of cannibals, and the world building behind them. Divine also includes a lovely and fair review! While Elaine didn’t care for it, I appreciate she took the time. This definitely is a series that divides readers!
But kicking off the celebration is we had an early start to the tour over at MM Good Book Reviews discussing writing about forces of nature, and writing about it beyond “It was a dark and stormy night…” How man is convinced they can control the wind, but we are guilty of our own hubris.
And then yesterday I was at Charlie Cochet’s Purple Rose Tea House House setting the mood with a Chasing Sunrise themed playlist. I love playlists. If you’ve enjoyed my previous ones for Bayou Fairy Tale and Some Assembly Required, you can’t miss this one. Definitely sets the tone for such a dark tale.
Genre: Fantasy/Horror/Paranormal
Series: The Darkmore Saga: Book One
Length: Novel
Published: April 5, 2016
Publisher: DSP Publications
ISBN: 978-1-63476-355-4
Buy: DSP Publications | Omnilit | Amazon | Barnes and Noble
Blurb:
The once glorious aisa kingdom of Darkmore lies in ruins, and King Sevon Maraté is trapped. Sevon endures unrelenting abuse and is used as a scapegoat by Lord Dominic Ravensgrove, who rules Darkmore from the shadows. Coping by dressing in gowns and jewels, the effeminate king relishes the scraps of freedom he is given to be himself.
As a verkolai, Sevon possesses the ability to part the Veil separating his world from hundreds of others. His gift provides a chance for escape, but Dominic refuses to relinquish his tool for power. When Dominic forges an ambitious plan to invade the prosperous shifter land of Priagust, he manipulates Sevon’s desperation for his people’s survival. Out of options, Sevon has no choice but to cooperate.
On their foray into Priagust, Dominic’s men abduct a shifter named Jack. Despite being tortured for information, Jack’s loyalty to his kind never wavers. But Jack’s knowledge about Darkmore’s history unsettles Sevon, and a curious bond begins to form. Despite Sevon’s mistrust, Jack is determined to tame the beautiful king’s wild heart and perhaps earn his freedom.
As war looms, Sevon fears Jack’s kindness is another trap. Conflicted, Sevon wonders if he should risk chasing the sunrise or remain Dominic’s compliant prisoner.
1st Edition published by Dreamspinner Press, 2014.
March 17, 2016
[Flash Fiction Friday] Amberly Smith presents “The Hunt’s Man”
Hello, Internet! Amberly Smith is back and has another gem to share with us! In “The Hunt’s Man” we meet Sir Reginald and a squire Sebastian. When Sir Reginald is ordered to cut out the boy’s heart, he has other ideas. And you know I have a thing for a kindly huntsman!
The Hunt’s Man
by Amberly Smith
The key to saving an alluring squire is a pint of the best lager and perfect timing. It also, on occasion, takes a Knight. Sir Reginald and the squire crouched in the shadow cast by the billowing blacksmith’s shop. A stable cart filled with fresh hay ambled across the cobblestones of the court yard. Here was their chance.
They strode out the open gate and swiftly ran for the protection of the distant woods. The sentry on the parapet was drunk and, awake or asleep, he wouldn’t clearly remember who had left when.
The squire’s breath grew ragged. Reginald slowed to a quick walk. He grabbed the young man’s shoulder when he saw him turning to look back. “No Sebastian. Look only to your future.”
Sebastian looked at him, blinking eyelashes the color of pitch. They fanned his pale cheeks like the wings of a dove. His young beautiful eyes ignorant to the danger he was in. Reginald had seen evidence of his sharp cunning, but that wasn’t what he saw when he looked upon him of late.
The green forest still sparkled with morning sunlight and dew. A perfect canvas to showcase the man in front of him. His lips were firm, full, and red. Therein lay the tragedy. Reginald was not the only one to think this lovely vision would make a passionate companion.
Though maybe the Lady Quinn saw him more as competition for her husband’s affection. Either way, the innocence would be broken and jaded before he had a chance to even be knighted. If she allowed even that for the ward of the fief.
Reginald had to have faith that the good lord would look out for this gentle soul. They traveled deep into the forest, Reginald instructing as they passed edible plants, showing ways to track water. The boy was already well versed in fire and hunting. All day Sebastian would nod, face earnestly listening to each instruction. He never spoke and, truly, Reginald was grateful. This would be so much harder if Sebastian pleaded to go home.
They built their camp in silence late in the day, the deepest Reginald had ever gone in the forest in this direction.
As dawn crested the horizon, narrowing the trees with light, Reginald climbed out of his oiled tarp and looked toward Sebastian. He’d wake the boy and tell him the last piece. Tell him to never come back.
Instead the squire’s gear was folded and sat beside the dying embers of the fire. Had he risen early and walked into the trees to relieve himself? Why hadn’t Reginald heard him? The empty clench of his stomach tightened further. His mouth flooded with saliva as nausea pushed up his throat. Did Sebastian go back? They’d both be dead before the day was done if he did. Or worse, Reginald would have to watch as Lady Quinn took him apart. She would send Reginald, sworn to silence, to live the remainder of his life with the terrifying images of this beautiful man destroyed. No, he wouldn’t let her.
He started gathering his bed tarp and gear. He searched the ground for Sebastian’s foot prints. Nothing. Bloody hell.
Then he heard movement toward the stream. Sebastian walked toward him, his black hair jutting wet, standing in tufts around his snow-pale skin. He carried a parcel in his hand, wrapped in oilcloth. Reginald took and released a deep breath. The jay birds chittered to each other and the breeze carried in the smell of new life. His relief heightened his dread. How would he tell Sebastian to never return to the only home he had known?
Sebastian extended his hands, offering up the package. “For the Lady. She will think you’ve fulfilled your duty.” His voice had a seductive deep chime, the sound reverberating in Sir Reginald’s chest. One day Sebastian would fill out to be a mighty woodsman, grow into that voice and those hands.
Reginald opened the oilcloth. “Careful,” Sebastian said.
It was the heart of a young pig. Reginald felt his mouth open and his blood rush.
“I wrapped it in spiked wire. The Lady has a taste for such things. She will think you have offered up your allegiance along with my death as a gift.”
“You know.”
“Yes. I saw what happened to the last boy to catch the lord’s eye. If she ever dies or it is once again safe for me to return, wrap spiked wire around that tree.” He pointed and then dropped his hand to his side. He no longer looked at Reginald.
The wet organ was still warm. The smell of blood would attract predators. Reginald, careful of the barbs, rewrapped the heart. He needed the moment to deal with the burning at the corners of his eyes. “You’re right and very cunning. She’ll think it a gift to earn favor.”
Sebastian picked up his bag and slung it across his chest. His bow and quiver must be back where he’d slaughtered the pig and cleaned up. Sebastian turned back to the trees and then paused, his shoulders squared and straight. “She’s wrong. It is a gift. But not for her.”
He looked back at Reginald, his eyes bright with moisture. “Thank you for saving me, Sir Reginald,” the last two words whisper-soft, “my love.” Reginald watched until he lost sight of Sebastian. The squire would survive and that was enough.
March 16, 2016
On The Drawing Board: Taylor Loves Peeps!
Hello, Internet! As you may or may not know, I got involved in a deep controversy yesterday over marshmallow Peeps. You know, those tasty, delicious, amazing marshmallow shaped chicks dusted in colored sugar. Some people love them, like me. Some people hate them. And those people are wrong. Wrong. Wrong.Wrong.
To settle the score…Dude Princess Taylor Hatflield of Americana Fairy Tale demonstrates the proper way to eat a Peep. Because Taylor is quite the proper gentlemanly princess!
#HatersToTheLeft!
Happy Easter!
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March 13, 2016
At The Movies with Lex Chase: 10 Cloverfield Lane
Credit: Comicbook.com
Aaaah. 10 Cloverfield Lane. I was pumped. As often as I invoke the name of Saint. J.J. Abrams, my expectations were in the stratosphere.
Seriously. My own author bio that appears in every one of my books states I unapologetically loved the ending of Lost. Even five years after the show ended, I still talk about it.
But back to Cloverfield. Or should I say 10 Cloverfield Lane. We all know the original Cloverfield was J.J.’s over-hyped love letter to giant monster movies. A found footage monstrosity, and while the intention was pure, the execution was a mess. As you can see, I have no love for that film.
The two films are only similar in name, and I was okay with this! Bring on the mind fuckery and big questions about humanity and morality. Annnnnndddd….
I seem to have watched a vastly different film than the rest of the Internet did.
Saint J.J….
Let’s break down the A to B of it. Actually let’s consult the trailer…
There. That? That? That is literally the movie in one minute and 43 seconds. Even if you haven’t seen any fan speculation, you know what “The Twist” is without having to dig in the depths of Tumblr or Reddit to find it. You know. And even if you don’t think you do, trust me you do. And I didn’t even say anything.
10 Cloverfield Lane was defined as a Mystery/Thriller. And like all good mysteries, the audience loves seeing these clues unfold with the heroes. The audience is smart, and likes to be in on the game too. Even if they don’t guess the mystery, they love seeing how they missed it, and they think you’re clever and played fair, and they’ll play again.
This movie doesn’t play fair. It cheats. It presents information in such an obscure form, and expects you to make assumptions. But it withholds information on purpose not meant as red herrings but to flat out confuse. I wasn’t inquisitive. I was frustrated. Now, I love complicated open-ended questions. I might have co-written such a story with Bru Baker about a surprising metaphysical meet-cute about two dead guys haunting an affordable minimalist home furnishings store for all eternity. *plugityplug!*
But with 10 Cloverfield Lane, there wasn’t any open-ended questions because no one knew the questions to ask. When the answer is “The questions and answers are what you want them to be!” that’s a cop out. Don’t make me spend $20+ bucks to make me sit through something that’s a bunch of people talking about nothing in particular.
What would make this film better?
Put this guy in the Doomsday bunker.
Credit: ABC
#SHUTUPANDTAKEMYMONEY
#HowManyTimesCanLexMentionLost?
Credit: Tumblr
At the end of the day, 10 Cloverfield Lane was just okay. And downright boring at times. There were some truly amazing moments. The first 15 minutes doesn’t have a single word of dialogue and is brilliant. The rest…just…what happened here? But let’s give J.J. a break. He had his hands a bit full revitalizing Star Wars for a whole new generation.
Credit: Fanpop
All the while he filmed 10 Cloverfield Lane in secret. Uuuuuh. Probably not the best idea. J.J. is a brilliant storyteller. But dude has a habit using his creative magic for nefarious deeds. He didn’t need a second set of eyes, he needed 20. 30! 100!
Credit: CW
#NotThat100
#IShouldSeeSomeone
#ThisIsn’tHealthy
Credit: Tumblr
In conclusion, I’ll leave you with the famous thoughts of a certain doctor from another recently revived movie franchise.
Credit: Imgur
Credit: Imgur
In two weeks, I’ll be vomiting my feelings about Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice. Because the final Divergent film, Allegiant, is releasing this week and here’s my bonus review:
Credit: Imgur
As always, I’m Lex Chase and see you next time!
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March 8, 2016
At The Movies with Lex Chase: Zootopia
Hello, Internet! As my weekly Facebook check-ins indicate, I watch a lot of movies. So much I have to budget for IMAX 3D tickets. And today, I’m talking about Disney’s Zootopia AKA Breaking Baaa-aaaa-aaad.
The premise of Zootopia is we meet Officer Judy Hopps (Ginnifer Goodwin), a sweet bunny who’s a little left of center. She’s determined to protect and serve the “mean” candy-colored streets as a part of the Zootopia PD. She’s resourceful, full of ideals, and has an iron-clad sense of right and wrong.
Credit: Byron Howard
She’s sent into a cotton-tail spin when she meets sly, hustling, fox Nick Wilde (Jason Bateman). He’s sleazy, cool, and….sorry. Can we back it up about his character design?
Credit: Tumblr
Look familiar? Yaaaassss.
They are stuck together by way of blackmail and must solve an impossible case involving drugs, class, and prejudice.
This is some majorly hard-hitting topics amidst the vomit of Baskin-Robbins amazing world building.
Tommy Chong makes appearance as a stoner yak. Seriously. It is that movie.
Not to mention Zootopia’s beloved pop idol Gazelle—who’s a gazelle. Because. Clever. And voiced by Shakira because she clearly had to pay the rent. She gives us the most infectious theme “Try Everything” and will be guaranteed to be wedged in your head. It’s high time after many moons we bid adieu to a certain iconic anthem and let it go.
Seewhutididthar?
Zootopia is surprisingly self-aware. Pokes fun at itself without taking viewers out of the story, but makes no bones they are a part of a Disney movie.
There’s bright colors and an encouraging message for the little ones that you can be anything. And then there’s the highly adult humor brought to you by the most hilarious sick fucks in the Disney animation department. After all these years, they get parents. If you’re going to sit through 90 minutes of talking animals because your kids begged you, then by god, Disney delivers on a Breaking Bad reference and how.
I was initially hesitant to see this film, which meant I would have been there opening day anyway. Zootopia tapped right into the beating heart of Furry culture without making it awkward to the rest of us. Remember kids, just because you’re not down with something, don’t be a dick about someone else’s loves.
At the end of the day Zootopia…
Credit: Fanpop
(Obligatory Lost Pic)
(Wait. No.)
Zootopia is…
Credit: AMC
If you grew up with the STARTLING attractiveness of Disney’s Robin Hood, which as grown adults, we look back fondly for how innocent we were.
But you will look upon Judy and Nick and think…
Credit: Imgur
And feel incredibly AWKWARD in the best way.
Invoking Rule #34 Of Fandom: If it exists, there’s a porn version of it.
#SryNotSry
March 4, 2016
[Flash Fiction Friday] Dev Bentham with Wishing on Falling Stars and Other Space Junk
Hello, Internet! Dev Bentham is here for Flash Fiction Friday! In her sweet piece we learn one small town man’s destiny sends a pretty big sign…when a chunk of a space satellite crashes in his back yard.
Wishing on Falling Stars and Other Space Junk
by Dev Bentham
That still, small voice people who make their living saying wise things always talk about, the one that a person has to listen hard for if they want to follow their bliss—sometimes that voice is fucking loud. I know. I heard it and it changed my life.
It was late August several years ago. I was staying with my brother in Minocqua, a tiny town in Northern Wisconsin where the only thing to do on a Saturday night was to hang out in the back yard barbequing hamburgers and drinking cheap beer while the kids ran around like wild animals. I was single back then and, although I’d grown up in a town just like this one, I’d left for the city as soon as I could. Being back in a small town was making me claustrophobic and the whole gay uncle routine was wearing a little thin. I was ready for some excitement. Like the old saying goes, be careful what you wish for.
My brother’s back yard wasn’t anything to brag about—just some tired looking grass strewn with toys. We sat in old folding lawn chairs, drinking cheap beer and staring at the big wooden back fence. My sister-in-law called the kids inside to help her get dinner ready. My brother talked about how he needed to get around to repainting the fence and I wondered how rude it would be to leave a few days early and head back to the city and real life.
That’s when I heard it, the voice of God or fate or whatever—a big boom like a bomb or a giant rifle crack. My heart just about smashed its way out of my body. I don’t remember jumping up, but the next thing I knew I was standing there with my mouth open as this thing just fell out of the sky, crashing into the fence. Chunks of wood and splinters flew everywhere. I threw my arm up to shield my eyes. From behind us inside the house, one of the kids screamed. Another started crying. The back door slammed as my brother ran inside. I was relieved to hear my sister-in-law calling that it was okay, everyone was okay.
And then it went quiet. Murmuring filtered through the open kitchen window and in the distance sirens screamed, but right where I was it was silent. I dropped my arm and opened my eyes. A big wad of metal lay on the ground, having carved a slice out of the fence. And there he was on his side, standing about as far away from the smoking mess as I was and staring back at me. I don’t believe in love at first sight. But I sure as hell know lust when I feel it. Bare chested, tall and built, with close-cut blond hair, blue eyes and thighs that filled out his jeans in all the right ways, looking back at me through the hole in the fence. We stood there staring at each other while the sirens got closer and closer. It was something out of a movie.
Until men in full military gear pounded into the yard, guns ready. I tore my gaze away from him and focused on the chaos around me—my brother was yelling, the kids were screaming, one soldier was trying to talk my brother down from his panic ledge while another waved his gun around in a way that got my sister-in-law screaming, too. A whole cluster of people milled around the thing that turned out to be a hunk of space junk off a Russian satellite.
No one was paying attention to me. I walked back through the house, down the street, around the corner to the next street. What with the array of emergency vehicles, his house wasn’t hard to find. I knocked on the door. And waited. Eventually the door opened. Up close he was just as hot.
I held out my hand. “Hey.”
“Hi.” He shook it. We stood in his doorway holding hands like that, ignoring the noise that echoed through the neighborhood.
A fireman heading into the house pushed past us.
I dropped his hand. “You, um, want to go get a beer or something?”
He looked over his shoulder, thought for a minute and then shrugged. “Sure. They won’t miss me.”
And that was it. We call it the night we wished upon a falling star. It’s a show stopper at parties when people ask how we met. And I’ve gotten used to life in a small town. It’s nice that our kids live so close to their cousins. We haven’t gotten around to fixing the fence. Too many good memories live in that big blackened hole.
Bio
Dev Bentham writes soulful m/m romance. Her characters are flawed and damaged adult men who may not even know what they are missing, but whose lives are transformed by true love.
Find her at:
Email: DevBentham@yahoo.com
Dev’s latest book is Whistleblower
Money can’t buy happiness. Jacob Nussbaum knows this better than anyone. He’s a corporate lawyer deep inside a huge New York firm, where he works overtime, sacrifices any chance at a personal life, and has been selling his soul for years. With a secretary as his only friend, he trudges on, until his whole world is blown apart by a manila envelope of photos—evidence that one of the firm’s partners is the dirtiest lawyer in one hell of a filthy business.
In search of the truth, Jacob travels to a small northern Wisconsin fishing resort. There he meets Ben Anderson, a brutally lonely man, who knocks him off his feet. Ben prompts Jacob to reevaluate his life. He’s a dozen years older than Jacob, still recovering from the death of his long time love, and doesn’t want to leave anyone a widower. But a jaded New Yorker on a soul-searching mission might be just the man to convince the grieving Ben that it’s never too late to begin again.
Available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance, Kobo and Dreamspinner
February 22, 2016
Two New Fairy Tales of the Open Road Teas!
Hello, Internet! I am soooo hyyyype! The amazingly talented D.C. has completed the Fairy Tales of the Open Road fandom tea set with the final two teas at Adagio Teas!
You can now get Ringo, Taylor’s trusted Fairy Godfather, voice of irresponsibility, and worst enabler ever. And Honeysuckle, Atticus’s beloved Fairy Godmother, voice of guidance, and stubborn battle axe with the most creative cussing.
D.C. has once again outdone herself with the labels! Look at these!
For more information, see the Fairy Tales of the Open Road fandom tea page here!
February 19, 2016
Dream Date at the Dreamspinner Press Blog!
Hello, Internet! If you haven’t dropped by the Dreamspinner Press Blog you’re in for a treat with another Some Assembly Required excerpt. As a part of the Dream Dates theme, Patrick and Benji have one of their own! Did someone say “Netflix and chill?” Ooh lala~
Tune in next month at the Dreamspinner Press Blog as I wrap up with my final #Dreamer post. Did you miss one? Watch this space as I’ll be compiling them all together soon!
Hopefully the powers that be have me back playing in their sandbox for the next year. Cross your fingers!
[Flash Fiction Friday] Amberly Smith with “Subtle Criteria”
Hello, Internet! Amberly Smith returns for Flash Fiction Friday with “Subtle Criteria.” In this piece, we meet Abigail, the odd woman out on an island business retreat. When she meets Mila, she might have found the one to appreciate her quirkyness and her love of The L Word.
Subtle Criteria
by Amberly Smith
Abigail would rather code blindfolded, while naked, than deal with conflict. But the whole point of the Business Leadership Retreat was to learn about healthy and constructive conflict. How constructive cooperation could turn conflict into a positive. You could dress it up with all the buzz words you wanted, it still made Abigail ill.
“Screw those guys. If you trust me, you’ll never get voted off the island,” Mila said. Abigail turned to look at the woman standing next to her on the wooden platform two hundred feet in the air. The lake was two hundred yards to their north so the island reference didn’t make since.
Besides, the Silo Project wasn’t an island but a reclaimed weapons silo and now a highly successful resort. The owners had taken this odd, concrete bunker, dropped in the middle of this beautiful forest, and turned the abandoned place into a safe haven. A misfit with a new purpose. Abigail liked the truth in that.
She thought Mila was aiming for funny but she didn’t get the association. She smiled to soften the question, “Are we voting on something?”
Mila nudged her and took a swig from her bottle of water.
Abigail realized that Mila might think she was joking. “Seriously, not good at pop culture references. Is that from the I.T. Office? The guys keep telling me I need to watch it. That it’s sacrilegious that a programmer wouldn’t have seen it.”
The guys in question were at the front of the queue to be fit with safety equipment to do the 1000 foot zip line. Abigail didn’t think their boss had thought through bringing reclusive, analytical geeks into the wilderness to participate in team building skills. Have them write code together or rig a LAN party each Friday, great. But this? Two days in and Abigail was just grateful she had hot water to wash the sweat off later.
Mila cleared her throat. “What do you watch?”
She was about Abigail’s age and as the newest member of the team, got the shit sequences and cast-off coding. She was always good natured about the workload and teasing.
“I read a lot,” Abigail said.
Mila laughed and shook her head. Jeff and Samuel went screaming down the zip line. As the two women stepped up to be fitted with their own harnesses, Abigail realized that Mila might not know that Abigail was gay. She preferred to avoid discussion of partners and kids or really anything too personal. If she had something important to say, she’d say it. But in her experience women expected small talk more than men and definitely more than computers ever did. “Uhm, I just finished watching The L Word on Netflix. It’s about lesbians and–”
“I know. Awesome show. I totally ship Shalena.”
Abigail mouthed the word ship. She stepped into the harness and secured it quickly around her hips. She’d been watching the others as their guide gave them the same spiel about safety. Abigail reached across and untwisted one of Mila’s straps. They both nodded their understanding to the guide as he finished his directions.
“Forget what I said about the guys. Screw me and I’ll get you off.”
Abigail looked up into Mila’s eyes.
“The island,” Mila added, this rather pretty smile on her face, her eyes bright but not with laughter. Perhaps that was desire Abigail was finally paying enough attention to see. Abigail blinked and smiled, liking how the other woman’s eyes darkened. Mila licked her lips and stared hard at Abigail’s mouth.
Mila was beautiful. She had pert breasts and long slender limbs. Abigail had thought so immediately upon meeting her but had tucked it away with thoughts about watering the yard and needing to go to the grocery store. There was code to write and programs to test. She tended to think about girlfriends and love when she was home alone, her feet cold, her calendar empty. Was it any wonder she’d been so oblivious?
Mila held out her hand. Thank god Mila had caught the error in Abigail’s logic. She grasped Mila’s hand. Together they stepped off the platform completely trusting the zip line to hold them. Their laughter rang through the forest as the wind threaded through their hair and clothes. How did Mila feel about sharing a hot shower? Abigail decided to ask her once the world stopped rushing by below them.
