Lex Chase's Blog, page 8

2/10 – Love Bytes Reviews

2/10 – Divine Magazine

2/11 – Purple Rose Tea House

2/11 – Open Skye Book Reviews

2/17 – Joyfully Jay

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Published on February 18, 2016 15:48

Scale Tales: Don’t Forget to Track!

ST_Dont_Forget_To_Track_Banner

Hello, Internet! How we doin’? How we doin’? It’s another week of Scale Tales! Woot!

Let’s get the bad news out of the way. I seem to be flipping trapped in a damned holding pattern about dropping weight. AUGH. The fantastic news I guess is I’m down 0.2 tenths of a pound? Yay? At least it’s something! When I started this adventure I was at 246, now I’m 239.4! Well. It’s moving. Very, very, very slowly. It’s not a race, y’know? Though anyone that knows me I move faster than the speed of sound.

The good news and today’s topic, the bane of my existence, tracking food. As I reported two weeks ago in this post, I resolved to write down what I ate, every day, without fail. I used a cute pad of paper I picked up for a buck at Target (Target and I are in A Relationship) and jotted down with a pen, and called it a day.

Well, save one day I didn’t due to my deadly dentist appointment that left me feeling like I had been punched in the face, I am happy to report success!

Trends I noticed is I go through phases of I drink too little water. I’m supposed to drink more than average because of a particular medication I’m on. But I get so laser focused I forget to get my ass out of my chair. I also take thirst cues as hunger cues. Because there’s days I snacked like crazy. And there’s days I had second breakfast, and second dinner.

I’ve had some upheaval in my life that I’ve been largely kept off the Internet, and it’s going to stay off the Internet. I’ve long recognized when a situation is out of my control, I am an insane emotional eater. Barring that, if I successfully talk myself out of running to a bucket of Haagen Dazs, which is a highly stressful thirty-minute battle of wills, I clean.

Obsessively clean.

One of my coping mechanisms when a situation is out of my control, my environment is the one thing I can. The chaos outside reflects the chaos inside and all that. And because my brain was pretty much rendered useless for making words, I had to email my Big Boss at Dreamspinner to keep her in the loop.

My brain pretty much shut off and I emotionally shut down. And anyone that wandered in my path did not get the Happy, Perky Lex that everyone sees every day. They got the Lex that straight up tells them where the bear shits with reality checks.

But the one thing? The one thing? That was stable, and never changed? Tracking. Even when I was out of control, I was mentally in control of my tiny pad of cute paper, and my pen nearby. And I eventually crawled out of my hole.

So Step Two of tracking? Now on top of tracking, we’re going to count calories. And we’re going to see where that takes us. Tune in two weeks from now where I report the findings. It’s bound to be…enlightening.

So you tell me! What’s your go-to tactic when an unexpected crisis pops up? What is the one thing that keeps you stable and safe when it’s all going to hell in a hand basket? Comment here or on Facebook and you yes you may walk away with a $5 USD Dreamspinner Gift Certificate! Aaaaawwww yaaaaassss!

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Published on February 17, 2016 09:06

Assembling A Story at Sinfully Gay Romance Book Reviews!

Hello, Internet! It’s time for the Some Assembly Required Blog Tour round-up! Forgive this late posting. Yikes!

On Valentine’s Day I was over at Sinfully Gay Romance Book Reviews giving a happy reading of one of my favorite scenes from Some Assembly Required. I hope you enjoy. I have a thing for readings, I super-duper get into it. I just hate dictating. You gotta emote!

And in case you missed all the previous fun, Bru is over at the Purple Rose Tea House, talking about adventures in DIY projects and employing her children as…erm….free labor. It’s not what you think!

And then we did a two-part interview where Bru put me in the hot seat at Open Skye Book Reviews and I returned the favor at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words. We chat away about what it’s like to work together in our fit of insanity.

And join us tomorrow over at Joyfully Jay where the tour comes to a close, and I share the fun times of what it’s like when Bru and I started on this journey, and we wouldn’t have it any other way!

Genre: Contemporary Paranormal Comedy

Length: Novel

Published: February 8, 2016

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

ISBN: 978-1-63476-810-8

Buy: DSP – ARe – Amazon – Barnes and Noble

Blurb:

Everyone wishes they were dead when wandering the purgatory of a home furnishings store, but these guys actually are.

Benji Goss is the quintessential good guy. When his boyfriend dumps him and moves out, Benji obligingly keeps the cat—even though he’s allergic—because his ex’s new place doesn’t accept pets. He’s always joked the cat would be the death of him, but not in a way he expects when a feline mishap crushes him under a DEL TORO bookcase.

Snarky loner Patrick Bryant is in such a rut he barely remembers the life he used to lead. The last thing he recalls is being decapitated by a DEL TORO bookcase in a freak accident. As a spiritual CASA resident, he haunts the aisles of affordable Italian furniture, assisting fellow spirits in moving on to their final destinations.

When Benji appears in the CASA café, Patrick considers the naïve spirit just the man to cure his boredom. Benji’s relentless optimism chips away at Patrick’s sarcasm, making him question if there’s something beyond what he can see. But the heart is like CASA furniture—there’s always some assembly required.

Blog Tour Stops:

2/8 – The Novel Approach and Release Day!

2/9 – Gay List Book Reviews

2/10 – Love Bytes Reviews

2/10 – Divine Magazine

2/11 – Purple Rose Tea House

2/11 – Open Skye Book Reviews

2/17 – Joyfully Jay

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Published on February 16, 2016 08:30

[Flash Fiction Friday] M.A. Church with When Opportunity Knocks

MA_Church_When_Opportunity_Knocks_Banner Hello, Internet! Please welcome M.A. Church to Flash Fiction Friday! In her short, When Opportunity Knocks, we meet Dewanye, a man who has it all but is it worth it? Can money really buy happiness?

When Opportunity Knocks
by M.A. Church

Another day, another business trip in yet another airport.

It was just one of many in the past fifteen years. And wouldn’t you know it? Dewayne had a two-hour layover. More time from his life lost sitting in an unremarkable airport in yet another sprawling city.

Feet dragging he trekked to one of the terminal’s food shops—they all look the same at this point—and ordered something to eat. Once he was seated, he shrugged off his suit coat, shoulders slumped. That was another thing he needed to take care of. He’d lost so much weight due to stress his clothes no longer fit.

As he picked at his food, he pulled his tablet from his briefcase and reviewed his itinerary. The words blurred on the computer screen as that last thought replayed on a loop in his head. Fifteen years. Fifteen years ago the break of a lifetime landed in his lap and his career took off.

The opportunity to travel the world was something he couldn’t pass up. He quickly became a jet setter, and his name became well-known in all business corners of the world. He had money, prestige, and fame.

Oh, there were some who didn’t care for his lifestyle, but with his reputation they dared not speak of it. They knew he’d crush them like a bug under the heel of his very expensive shoe. He liked men, and he didn’t give a damn who knew it. He had everything he could want.

He set his tablet off to the side. Except… he was lonely. Weary. He wanted more than what his life had become. Over the past several months what drove him had shifted. More and more he dreamed of white picket fences, 2.5 kids, and that one and only perfect person waiting on him when he got home.

He’d had that, at one time. The perfect one and only, that was. Someone who loved him for who he was—bad habits and all. And he thrown it all away when opportunity came knocking. Ian was a shining star who had lit up his very existence all through high school and college.

A sweet guy who could draw like a fiend—who’d taken that talent and become a fairly famous artist. A sweet guy Dewayne discarded because Ian wouldn’t—couldn’t?—fit into Dewayne’s new life. He left Ian with a backward glance. God, what a pretentious ass he’d been.

If only he could go back and…. Right. Go back and do what? Change things? Turn down such a golden opportunity? If he had, what then? Who would he have become? Certainly not the man he was now. Would that had been such a bad thing? At least he’d had love then.

What did he have now? He was in his forties and had finally figured out money and prestige couldn’t buy him love. He’d had more ass in the last fifteen years than any one man was entitled to, and none of it meant anything to him. It was just sex, and now it wasn’t even very good sex. In fact, it reminded him of his life… monotonous. More trouble than it was worth. Boring.

He wanted more—he wanted what he had so long ago.

Somewhere along the way he’d lost himself and become someone he didn’t know. Suddenly he sat straighter. God, he wasn’t sure he liked the person he was now. But he could change that. The sad thing was, he had no idea where to start. Even sadder was he’d this epiphany in some unmemorable airport on a business trip. It figured.

After a quick check of the time, he paid his bill and put his tablet back in his briefcase. Once this business trip was over, he’d returned to the office and resign. He had more than enough money to live on. It was time to start a new chapter in his life.

He took one last look around as he silently said goodbye in his head. No more business trips. No more airports. No more hotel suites. No more business suits. No more business deals. He was starting anew.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to reconnect with who he had been. Now that the decision had been made, he could breathe easier. He felt lighter… and excited in a way he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. He drummed his fingers on the table, and then took a deep breath. He let it out. Heaven help him, he was going to do this, and he couldn’t wait.

“Dewayne? Dewayne Yancey? Oh my God, is that you?”

Dewayne blinked. Was this a joke? Was his brain playing tricks on him? He hadn’t heard that voice in over fifteen years, but he’d recognize it anywhere.

He turned to face the man standing at his table. Dewayne knew right then and there he’d been given a second chance. What were the odds Ian would end up in this airport and on this day? Or that he’d walk into this very restaurant precisely at the time Dewayne was sitting there? All while Dewayne questioned the decisions he’d made in his life.

Dewayne never been one to ignore when opportunity came knocking.

“Ian? I… I can’t believe this. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you standing there.” Dewayne stood up, and grinning, stepped forward. “But I’d sure like to try.”

Author Bio

M.A. Church is a true Southern belle who spent many years in the elementary education sector. Now she spends her days lost in fantasy worlds, arguing with hardheaded aliens on far-off planets, herding her numerous shifters, or trying to tempt her country boys away from their fishing poles. It’s a full-time job, but hey, someone’s gotta do it!

When not writing, she’s on the back porch tending to the demanding wildlife around the pond in the backyard. The ducks are very outspoken. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, and they have two grown children.

She was a finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Awards, runner-up in the 2015 Rainbow Awards, and is a member of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America.

Author Links:

Blog * Twitter * Facebook * The Harvest FB fan page * Goodreads * Amazon * E-mail

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Published on February 12, 2016 08:30

Down The Assembly Line with New Blog Tour Stops!

Hello, Internet! It’s time for the Some Assembly Required Blog Tour round-up!

Today we have three packed stops for you! First Bru is over at the Purple Rose Tea House, talking about adventures in DIY projects.

And we did a two-part interview where Bru put me in the hot seat at Open Skye Book Reviews and I returned the favor at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words. We chat away about what it’s like to work together in our fit of insanity.

And then yesterday, I was over at Divine Magazine discussing SAR’s jackass MC Patrick Bryant and my love of charming asshole characters and righteous bastards. Elaine White also includes her spectacular review of Some Assembly Required that pretty much made Bru and I want to print it out and frame it. We’re still in awe of how this cracky book as touched people so deeply!

Bru dropped by Love Bytes Reviews talking about her idea of retail heaven and having “Target Dates” with her husband. Hey, why have a movie date where wandering the aisles of Super Target with Starbucks in hand is just as romantic. So many bright and shiny things to look at!

I also want to add a great big thank you to all the readers! Bru and I love this little book, and we honestly expected it to float like a lead balloon. Sure people were excited but we didn’t think we’d get very far. And especially releasing three days after Charlie Cochet’s mega hit Catch a Tiger by the Tail! But we’re floored that not only did we crack the Amazon Top 100 in LGBT Fantasy, but rose to the #13 spot! While we’ve been up and down the charts a bit, we’ve held steady within the Top 25.

So…Thank you for joining us. Thank you for coming to CASA with us. Tell your friends, your family, the world! Guide them through CASA and let them find their missing piece.

Genre: Contemporary Paranormal Comedy

Length: Novel

Published: February 8, 2016

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

ISBN: 978-1-63476-810-8

Buy: DSP – ARe – Amazon – Barnes and Noble

Blurb:

Everyone wishes they were dead when wandering the purgatory of a home furnishings store, but these guys actually are.

Benji Goss is the quintessential good guy. When his boyfriend dumps him and moves out, Benji obligingly keeps the cat—even though he’s allergic—because his ex’s new place doesn’t accept pets. He’s always joked the cat would be the death of him, but not in a way he expects when a feline mishap crushes him under a DEL TORO bookcase.

Snarky loner Patrick Bryant is in such a rut he barely remembers the life he used to lead. The last thing he recalls is being decapitated by a DEL TORO bookcase in a freak accident. As a spiritual CASA resident, he haunts the aisles of affordable Italian furniture, assisting fellow spirits in moving on to their final destinations.

When Benji appears in the CASA café, Patrick considers the naïve spirit just the man to cure his boredom. Benji’s relentless optimism chips away at Patrick’s sarcasm, making him question if there’s something beyond what he can see. But the heart is like CASA furniture—there’s always some assembly required.

Blog Tour Stops:

2/8 – The Novel Approach and Release Day!

2/9 – Gay List Book Reviews

2/10 – Love Bytes Reviews

2/10 – Divine Magazine

2/11 – Purple Rose Tea House

2/11 – Open Skye Book Reviews

2/17 – Joyfully Jay

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Published on February 11, 2016 08:30

Scale Tales: Still Alive

ST_Still_Alive_Banner Hello, Internet! Today….hahaha…well. Let’s talk about today.

Today, I am the Sound and the Fury. And this is a good thing. Let me explain.

Yesterday, after weigh-in (one pound down! Hurray!), I had an appointment that’s five hours round trip. Like. Guh. I could drive to Atlanta in that time. It started well enough. Upbeat. Happy. Good appointment.

I also decided to have a cheat day. And while we are all entitled to our cheat days, me on the other hand? Oh. No.

After being super good at avoiding Starbucks, I had one of those molten chocolate latte things special for Valentine’s weekend. It was so much sugar shock, I couldn’t finish it. Blech! Then I got a burger and fries. I have such a love of fast food french fries like you just don’t know. But they are a rare, rare, rare thing in my life. It was like eating pure salt. And it was like my tongue was shriveling in my head.

The good news is I have no desire to eat those things in any form, and even in a healthy adaptation, for a long time. Never at this moment sounds delightful.

So, soon as I walk in the door, boom hello mood crash from all the crap I ate. I don’t even know how the subject got going, but C.S. Poe and I were doing our usual texting about anything and everything, and I all of a sudden turn into the oh woe is me self-depreciating, utterly disappointed in myself, angry self-loathing about my weight. And no matter what I do, I continue down the spiral.

I go to bed. This morning did not fare much better. The self-loathing continued. I had a Scale Tales post half-written this morning about negative self-talk. Only it was…um…rather negative. I had an appointment, went off, did my appointment, got plenty of food for thought, and at C.S.’s encouragement, I had planned to go to the gym.

I didn’t want to go. I hated the idea of going. And I was even in my gym clothes. I sat in my car for an hour reading my email and catching up on Some Assembly Required reviews (Yes. I read them. Even the bad ones. #NotAshamed) And I said “Goddammit. Let’s get this over with. I’ll feel better. I just don’t at the moment.”

Pulling out of the parking space, dreading the gym, I say, “You know what. Fuck the gym. The mall is right across the street. I’m going to go walk the mall!”

The second I pull into the mall parking lot, I feel 6,000 times better! And I pop in my earbuds, cue Amazon Music on my phone, and get to steppin’. In an hour, after walking from the farthest space in the lot, doing a lap around the entire outside of the mall, and then a lap around the entire inside, I clocked 3.5 miles in an hour.

I get home, and filled with flames of fury and determination to get shit done. And so, here I am. The Sound and the Fury.

We’ve all been there. All of us. Even those of us that don’t have issues with weight. For me, I go through stages. Anguish and self-disappointment, negative self-talk, crying, fear, hating everything, resisting help, arguing, and then I hit that anger phase where I tell myself “What the fuck is your problem? You are not doing yourself any favors doing this. Do something!”

It sounds counter-intuitive, but I like anger. Well, certain kinds of anger. (You know, not the kind where you hurt others. That’s not cool.) The anger where I get so pissed at my situation, I get off my ass and do something about it. And once I do something, I am unstoppable. I’m confident, my filter is shot, and I have no time for nonsense.

You need this.

You need to get angry. Is there something you hate about yourself? Something you utterly loathe? Something that you sit and bellyache about but just keep letting it go? What’s stopping you? We all have excuses. Solve one excuse and then find another. And we keep making them. We always make them. We make them for any reason we want.

But the primary reason is we make an excuse is for things we find particularly unpleasant. Like. The gym. Or even the dentist (who I see tomorrow. Ugh!) Or even doing the freaking dishes. It is that simple.

We also make excuses for our behavior. We all have bad traits. I cuss like a sailor. “Fuck,” while not a necessary word, is a very versatile word.

So, what are you excusing in your behavior? What is the one thing you let slide yet wish you didn’t?

Ever since Oprah became the new spokesperson for Weight Watchers, she has a very uplifting message where she says “If not now, when?” It’s a lovely message.

But here’s my own uplifting spin:

Get angry.

Be the Sound and the Fury.

Show the world the badass you are. It’s not about getting knocked down twenty times, it’s about getting up the twenty-first. You are still alive.

Get up. Get angry.

And now to soften my lovely pep talk, about some giveaway winners yeah? Hells yes!

Congrats tooooo…. Lili Mateo! You are now the lucky winner of a $5 USD Dreamspinner Gift Certificate!

I didn’t have any entries on , so the giveaway will carry over to this week!
Leave a comment here, or on Facebook! Tell me about what makes you angry! Lucky winner will be named next week!

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Published on February 10, 2016 18:30

Some Assembly Required Excerpt and Character Profile!

Hello, Internet! The Some Assembly Required Blog Tour continues today at My Fiction Nook and Gay List Book Reviews!

At My Fiction Nook, how about a little excerpt to wet your whistle? In which Benji seeks the truth about his new existence and Patrick is…not terribly helpful.

And at Gay List Book Reviews, Bru introduces readers to Benji “Good Guy” Goss. The kind and compassionate foil to Patrick’s jackassery.

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Published on February 09, 2016 09:30

Assembling Your Jams on The Novel Approach!

Hello, Internet! Finally! Some Assembly Required is here and let the shenanigans begin!

Today the blog tour kicks off at The Novel Approach, where I set the mood with a Some Assembly Required with a lovely playlist Bru and I put together that symbolized the journey of Benji and Patrick. I left out my explanations for the track choices because of gasp! spoilers in case you haven’t picked up the book yet. But I hope you take a listen while jamming at work so you know what you’re in for. Come and get your love, baby!

Genre: Contemporary Paranormal Comedy

Length: Novel

Published: February 8, 2016

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

ISBN: 978-1-63476-810-8

Buy: DSP – ARe – Amazon – Barnes and Noble

Blurb:

Everyone wishes they were dead when wandering the purgatory of a home furnishings store, but these guys actually are.

Benji Goss is the quintessential good guy. When his boyfriend dumps him and moves out, Benji obligingly keeps the cat—even though he’s allergic—because his ex’s new place doesn’t accept pets. He’s always joked the cat would be the death of him, but not in a way he expects when a feline mishap crushes him under a DEL TORO bookcase.

Snarky loner Patrick Bryant is in such a rut he barely remembers the life he used to lead. The last thing he recalls is being decapitated by a DEL TORO bookcase in a freak accident. As a spiritual CASA resident, he haunts the aisles of affordable Italian furniture, assisting fellow spirits in moving on to their final destinations.

When Benji appears in the CASA café, Patrick considers the naïve spirit just the man to cure his boredom. Benji’s relentless optimism chips away at Patrick’s sarcasm, making him question if there’s something beyond what he can see. But the heart is like CASA furniture—there’s always some assembly required.

Blog Tour Stops:

2/8 – The Novel Approach and Release Day!

2/9 – Gay List Book Reviews

2/10 – Love Bytes Reviews

2/10 – Divine Magazine

2/11 – Charlie Cochet’s Purple Rose Tea House

2/11 – Open Skye Book Reviews

2/17 – Joyfully Jay

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Published on February 08, 2016 08:30

There’s Always Some Assembly Required

Attention CASA shoppers! At midnight EST we will be having a special deal where you can own Some Assembly Required by Bru Baker and myself! And right now you can get it at 25% off at Dreamspinner Press!

Are looking for that perfect Valentine gift? How about wooing your loved one (or yourself!) with the heartwarming meet-cute of meeting your special someone in the afterlife and wandering around an affordable minimalist home furnishings store purgatory for all eternity. This is the story you never knew you needed.

Don’t forget! The Some Assembly Required Blog Tour starts Monday! And there will be wacky hijinks and a couple sweet giveaways!

Until then how about an excerpt to tide you over? First impressions are always important. Especially when you meet the sucker you’re stuck for all eternity with.

Chapter Three: PROLUNGA

Could anything compare to the smell of plastic and particleboard in the morning?

Well, lots of things probably could. Queequeg Coffee, for one. His mother’s freshly baked apple pie. The Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day basil soap that he hoarded every time it was in stock at Scope.

The candy apple red circle décor motif of Scope seemed to try to take the edge off the unconscious suggestion of a military sniper’s laser targeting. But it was easier ignoring the odd, checkered past involvement of the founder’s political leanings. A senator of questionable morals founded Benji’s favorite office supply store. It was his CASA of office supply needs. How politicians got into marketing everything from bedding to pencils was a strange tale.

But CASA had none of those torrid stories and scandals. The Italians had seen to that. CASA had its host of urban legends. From babies being born to weddings, it was all the talk of social media. CASA was definitely in the top ten of Benji’s favorite places.

Benji inhaled deeply and let the scent wash over him. Everything about CASA screamed fresh start and endless opportunity. It was pretty much impossible to feel anything but optimistic when standing in a CASA. For him, at least. The couple sitting a few tables over probably didn’t agree, judging by the angry way the woman was turning pages in the thick CASA catalog in front of her while the man stared off into space, balancing one of the nubby golf pencils the store provided on his knuckles.

There was a family of six against the back wall. The parents traded exhausted looks over the heads of the four kids chattering eagerly about Bambini Mondo.

Benji smiled at Patrick-Not-Tommy, and he returned it with a slow, easy grin like he’d heard a dirty joke he was eager to repeat.

“So, what do you do, Patrick-Not-Tommy?” Benji skewered a meatball and gestured with it like the pointer he used for the kids to sound out their ABCs.

He obviously didn’t work in the café since he wasn’t wearing the black chef’s uniform. And even though he had the right shirt on to work the floor, his jeans weren’t the CASA uniform kind.

God. How sad was it that he knew what the freaking CASA uniform was? He definitely spent too much time here.

“Patrick,” he said as he picked at his thumbnail. “You need to stick with me here, Derrick.”

“Benji.”

Patrick waved a dismissive hand as if he were swatting away flies. “Benji’s a terrier with a series of kid movies. Derrick is a guy I could get behind.”

Benji coughed and concentrated on his knuckles. How could this guy just waltz in here and make everything drip with innuendo? He’d never keep a straight face in front of the kids tomorrow.

“I said,” Benji said, trying to get things back on track, “what do you do?”

“Work.”

“You’re helpful.”

Patrick’s grin broadened. “Always.”

“Patrick…,” Benji started, surprised when a young woman with a dour expression spoke. When had she walked up? Christ. He needed to sleep more.

“Karin.” Patrick sat up straighter. “Meet my new charge. Derrick, this is Karin. Karin, Derrick.”

“Benji,” Benji said again with a grunt.

Patrick waved him off. “Derrick’s just a little confused right now. Bonked his head on the cart return, you know.”

Karin clasped a hand onto Patrick’s broad shoulder and then dug in her nails. “May I have a word with you?”

“Anthropomorphic,” Patrick said without a blink.

Benji drew his brows together. “…what?”

Patrick winked at him. “Jeopardy! Clue of the Day.”

Karin gnashed her teeth. “We need help with assembly.”

The way she enunciated every syllable told Benji that Patrick had shirked his duty to sit here in the café and harangue him. Not that he wasn’t interesting, if not exactly welcome, company. But he didn’t want Patrick to get in trouble on his account.

“Ah.” Patrick sighed but didn’t seem the slightest bit exasperated. “The Divorce Maker sample again, huh?”

“Divorce… maker?” Benji asked. What kind of CASA product is that? CASA was a place of happiness, Italian Muzak, and affordable, delightful furniture.

Patrick popped up from his chair and then spun it back around, tucking it into its proper place under the table. He knocked the table with two knuckles and nodded to Benji. “Be careful what you touch here in CASA. Can’t have you getting sucked into the black hole of rabid consumerism.”

“Do you ever stop?” Karin asked as she pulled on Patrick’s wrist.

Patrick relented and followed Karin’s lead. He made a sloppy two-finger salute behind him. “Be cool, soda pop. Don’t wander too far, Benji.”

Buy Links

Dreamspinner Press
Amazon
Apple
Barnes and Noble
ARe
Kobo

For more of Kim Fielding’s stories, check her out at Dreamspinner Press!

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Published on February 07, 2016 08:30

[Flash Fiction Friday] Kim Fielding with “Never Enough”

Kim_Fielding_Music_Is_My_Religion_Banner Hello, Internet! Kim Fielding returns for this week’s edition of Flash Fiction Friday! In today’s story, music is one man’s religion. But when the music dies, what is there to believe in?

Never Enough
by Kim Fielding

I guess you can say music is my religion. So that makes the lyrics my bible. Like the man says, “Don’t stop ’til you get enough,” right?

Used to listen to the Dead, back when I was a teen. Went to their concerts. I was a real Deadhead. Ha!

All the hippies got old—but I didn’t. One stoned night in the alley behind a club, one smokin’ hot man whose face I’ve long forgotten but whose bite mark’s still on my neck, and I never aged.

I started listening to punk, or sometimes metal. Slayer. Megadeth. Morbid Angel. Yeah, it was a long way from Jerry Garcia, but I couldn’t resist the irony. Besides, looking like I do, skulking in the darkness with my pale skin and too-bright eyes, I fit right in with those crowds. When I picked a guy out and dragged him somewhere private for a bite to eat, he’d never have second thoughts. Not even when I bit the tender skin of his inner thigh. Hell, they’d get off on that, their mouths going slack with pleasure and their cocks bumping up against my face. And when their corpses were discovered, slumped and cold, the authorities assumed they’d OD’d. Which they had, in a sense. They’d OD’d on me.

But that scene got boring after a while. It’s a problem with my existence—lots of time but narrowed opportunities. I switched to grunge. The boys wore their threadbare flannel and, heroin-tinged, they tasted as fuzzy and distorted as Kurt Cobain’s vocals.

Grunge went commercial. People listened to Nickelback, which made me gag. I stopped looking for angst in my music and went for pure sex instead. I’d slip into a club where hundreds of sweaty, nearly naked boys gyrated and humped to house music. Their blood sparked and crackled on my tongue, and sometimes they’d leave glitter on my skin and hair. I didn’t mind.

I could have been content like that for a long time, I think. Not forever. But I liked those boys, and I liked the mindless optimism of their songs, the abandonment of everything but hedonistic pleasure. That’s all I had left to me by then anyway—the thrill of fucking and feeding, the fleeting comfort of a warm body against mine. Just a few bright notes tossed into the night sky and then lost.

Then came the pandemic, known first as virus G43 but soon simply called the apocalypse virus. Everything closed. The music stopped as humans panicked, rioted, died. So much death, right? Put me to shame. I’d managed a few hundred killings over fifty years, but those invisible strands of DNA killed hundreds of millions in just months. Thousands of millions by the time it was done.

The stench was unbearable.

And now? A few humans remain, small desperate handfuls here and there. They don’t sing and dance. They don’t go out into the night, where I might lure them, sing to them, feast on them.

I’m starving, and I don’t know what I hunger for the most: the blood or the music.

I crouch shrunken in my dark lair, and I hum brokenly to myself. Country music of all things. Lyrics about lost chances and lost loves, and they’re my songs now, only mine. Because I’ve lost more than any human could imagine.

“Don’t stop ’til you get enough.” I don’t stop, I won’t stop, and dear God, it’ll never be enough.