Maelstrom

Book Review!

2010-09-08T08:24:00.002-05:00

Crimey over at Crimogenic posted a review of our book today. You can read it here: Book Review

I'm a little unsure what to think, since the book is fiction and I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about the band. It's hard work managing their image and keeping them out of trouble. If too many people say nice things about them, it might go their heads.

Publicity is a good thing, though, which reminds me...I've booked the band for a charitable event in December. They're really looking forward to it, and I'll have more details soon.

Maelstrom Extra: Monster Tour

2010-09-01T19:00:00.015-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No," Ricky said. He quit reading a message on his BlackBerry and set it on the coffee table. "It's impossible."

"It's not impossible at all. I'll just conjure--"

"Not that kind of impossible." Ricky motioned for Kalila to sit beside him, but she refused. "What I mean is that using real monsters to promote your Sadistic Monsters album may seem on the surface like a good gimmick, but trust me, it's a bad idea."

Kalila blinked, not understanding. "Why do you have to be so negative? I thought there was no such thing as bad publicity."

Ricky suppressed a sigh. The person who had come up with that saying had obviously never met Kalila and her band of misfit demons. "Venues have rules, you know. Bringing in a bunch of big, hulking, smelly monsters would be in violation of any contract I could get for you."

"So I'll conjure small ones."

"Small monsters?" Ricky raised his eyebrows.

"They come in all sizes, you know."

"I'm sure they do." He gestured toward the spot beside him again, and this time she sat down. "Look, I think it's terrific that you have so many creative ideas about how to promote the band, but you hired me because I understand what appeals to humans, remember?"

"Actually, I hired you because you looked so pathetic. Being broke and unemployed really gets you humans down."

Ricky didn't like the way the conversation was drifting. "So no monsters to promote this album, okay? You guys can do a great job promoting it all by yourselves."

Kalila's eyes lit up. "You think?" She threw her arms around him and Ricky held her close. No way was he going to break it to her now that the band was monstrous enough all on its own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you enjoyed this story, buy the book! It's available in print and Kindle versions from Amazon and e-book format from Fictionwise!.

Maelstrom Extra: Eye of the Beholder

2010-07-14T21:49:00.013-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ricky stood beside the tour bus, watching as the demons bickered and jostled each other over who would get on first. They were all accounted for, and that was what mattered; not the show, which had gone badly, not the audience, which hadn’t enjoyed Maelstrom’s style of music, and not even the gig itself, a charitable event Ricky had agreed to as a favor for a friend.

Vic stalked up to him and bared his fangs. “Don’t you ever book us outdoors again unless the sun is fully down, primate. It was painful. Understand?”

“I’m sorry. I have no control over last-minute schedule changes, but I appreciate that you were a trooper about it.”

With a sniff of contempt, Vic climbed onto the bus. Ricky turned around to find Lazaro glowering at him, his face so close Ricky nearly choked on the drummer’s foul breath.

“Audience was ignorant.”

“I realize that,” Ricky said. “They’re probably more of a country or Christian rock type of crowd.”

“No, I mean stupid. Mushy brains.”

“I guess you would know.”

While Lazaro started up the steps, grumbling about how he hated the taste of mushy brains, Nevin approached. For a moment, Ricky felt hopeful, since the keyboardist could see the good in nearly everything. To his disappointment, Nevin gave a reproachful sigh. “I’m very disappointed.” His gentle voice made the words cut all the more. “It was so terribly disorganized, and our presence wasn’t appreciated.”

Ricky silently agreed. Why had he signed the band up for this? Ego, pure and simple.

Kalila shoved Nevin onto the bus and gave Ricky a withering look. “This was the most inappropriate, mismanaged event you’ve ever booked us at. Do you think I can’t fire you?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “You’re getting complacent and forgetting why I hired you. See to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

Ricky watched her climb the stairs. What an idiot he was! And now here was Bo, leering at him in that vulgar way of his. “Okay, let’s hear it from you, too, and get it over with. What did you hate about the gig?”

Bo gave a little shrug. “Nothing.”

“You must mean you liked nothing.”

“No, I mean I hated nothing. It was a fun time.”

“But everyone else said it was awful. Why did you—”

Bo grinned. “How many times have you said you don’t want to hear me talk about sex? Just use your imagination, what little of it there is. This was a fantastic event, and you can book us here every year as far as I’m concerned.”

Ricky stared after him. After everyone else’s criticism, the last thing he had expected was praise, and from Bo, of all people.

Satisfied that he had made at least one of the demons happy, Ricky climbed the stairs and the door shut behind him. Obviously a good gig was all in the eye of the beholder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you enjoyed this story, buy the book! It's available in print and Kindle versions from Amazon and e-book format from Fictionwise!.

Giveaway Winners!

2010-07-10T20:36:00.003-05:00

Hi, Everyone! I asked Kalila to pick a few numbers at random for the prize giveaway. That didn't work out too well, and the less said about that, the better. So I asked Nevin instead, and the winners are:

Grand Prize (novel, short story book, t-shirt): Christina

First Prize (novel): Lisa

Second Prize (short story book): Donna

Winners will be contacted individually for shipping address.

Thanks for playing, and be sure to drop in for more stories, articles and updates about what we're doing!

Book Giveaway!

2010-06-26T18:31:00.007-05:00

NOTICE: This giveaway has been extended an additional week, through July 10. Don't worry, those of you who already entered. There are plenty of prizes for all!

Hi, everyone. I'm Ricky, the band manager. We've got an exciting book promotion going on right now, with copies of the novel, copies of a short story book, and t-shirts to give away. All you have to do is leave a comment in the guestbook at the right, and give us a way to contact you. If you don't want to leave contact info, check back here next Saturday, July 3, between 8:00 and midnight Central time, to find out who the lucky winners are!

While you're here, check out some of the stories about what the band has been up to. They're always up to something, unfortunately.

We're offering a special hello to new friends we met at the Pride Parade. Thanks for supporting all your fellow humans!

Maelstrom Extra: Nostalgia

2010-06-16T22:16:00.016-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Anybody seen Ricky?”

Vic shrugged and bent back over his guitar. “No telling with those diurnal types.”

“I’m not the human’s keeper.” Bo adjusted the volume on his amp.

Kalila frowned. “It’s not like him to disappear like this. Usually he watches us during setup and rehearsal.”

“Suits me not to have him staring. It creeps me out when the living do that.” Vic strummed a chord and gave Kalila a look. “You ready? I think the acoustics in here are going to be pretty good.”

Kalila strapped on her Stratocaster and was about to suggest they start with Hot Night, Cold Heart, but then shook her head and put the guitar back in its stand. Rehearsal could wait a few minutes. Ricky was acting weird and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

She found him pacing the parking lot, stopping from time to time and looking around with a wistful expression. Kalila had hired him for many reasons – to keep her band of misfit demons in line, to help her get famous without the use of magic, and because he was kind of cute for a human, but nowhere in his contract was there anything about wandering empty parking lots. She strode up to him. “What do you think you’re doing, mortal?”

Ricky stopped pacing and gave her a sheepish look. “Nothing.”

“That’s not what I pay you for.”

“I’m just remembering.” He gazed across the parking lot toward a strip center and an intersection where cars waited for a light to change. “This is all new, you know.”

“Yes. It’s nice you didn’t book us into a falling-down dump, for once.”

Ricky ignored her. “When I was a teenager, it was all dirt roads and meadows. Me and the other kids from my school used to come here to drink beer, race cars, and hang out away from our parents. Now look.” He made a gesture that took in the asphalt, neon, pre-fab shops and tract housing. “No trace of it at all.”

Kalila gave an impatient sigh. “I realize your kind is prone to nostalgia, but everything gets erased by time. The places of my youth have changed so much in the last two thousand years I might as well be on another planet. Sentimentality is a useless emotion.”

“You think all human emotions are useless.”

“That’s because they are.” What would snap him out of this ridiculous mood? She wanted him inside that club paying attention to her, not wandering about, thinking of his high school days. “Well, I guess I better go back inside and see if we can rehearse a few songs while the boys still have things under control.” She started walking toward the club. “Bo says the manager is hot, and Vic and Lazaro are both very interested in the bookkeeper. Smart brains and type O blood, you know.”

She went inside and let the heavy metal door fall shut behind her. Seconds later, it opened and Ricky rushed in. He paused when he saw her waiting.

“I knew that would get you.” Kalila grinned. “Now, enough with the past. We all have a future to think of.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you enjoyed this story, you can now buy the book in print and Kindle versions from Amazon and e-book format from Fictionwise!.

Maelstrom Extra: Personal Superhero

2010-06-12T23:19:00.012-05:00

Be sure to check out Sunday Scribblings and Weekend Writer's Retreat for more literary fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here’s something I don’t understand.” Kalila paused outside the old movie theater and gazed at one of the posters. “What’s this fascination humans have for superheroes?”

“It’s a natural impulse," Ricky said. "We all want to think someone will come along and save the day.”

“But you have us.” She spread her arms. “Gods, djinns, fairies…we can do everything your superheroes do. Or at least we could back when your kind still believed.”

Ricky suspected where this was going, but they had been on the road for days, tonight’s gig had been troublesome, and all he wanted was a little walk in the cool night air so he could clear his head enough to sleep. A discussion of how humans had failed Kalila and her supernatural kind wasn’t in any of his late-night plans.

“You abandoned us for humans in masks and tights.”

“Not all of them are human. Superman—”

“Oh, please.” Kalila began walking again.

Ricky hurried to catch up. “It’s just stories; fantasies humans like to tell each other.”

“That’s my point. Why resort to fantasy when you have reality?”

“Because reality is problematic?” When Kalila didn’t answer, he tried to explain. “If I ask you to do something for me, you might do it or you might not.”

“That’s because I’m not your servant.”

“Right. But superheroes always come when called. We made them like that.”

“So it’s about control. You can’t be in charge of us, so you imagine powerful beings in your own image who you can boss around.”

Ricky had never thought of it that way before. “I don’t know if ‘boss around’ is how I’d put it. You have to be worthy and in need.”

“But if you are, then the superhero will always come.” Kalila nodded wisely. “You knew you couldn’t count on a real deity to help, so you invented ones who play by your rules. Since you created them, you’re in charge, which makes you the superhero.”

This was too much philosophy for one night. “Let’s go back to the hotel. Maybe I can find something on TV to help me relax so I can sleep.”

“Will this help?” She conjured a glass of neat Scotch whiskey.

“Not out here.” Ricky looked around. “They have laws about drinking on the streets.”

Kalila laughed. “If a cop saw you, I’d make him think it was a cup of coffee. If you went to jail, I’d get you out again.” She forced the drink into his hand.

Ricky took a sip and sighed with pleasure. Kalila knew her single malts. And in spite of her cantankerous ways, she always came through for him when it really mattered. He put an arm around her and they continued toward the hotel. It was nice to have a personal superhero.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you enjoyed this story, you can now buy the book in print and Kindle versions from Amazon and e-book format from Fictionwise!.

On Tour

2010-05-29T00:14:00.002-05:00

Hi, everyone! I'm just dropping in to let everyone know the band will be on tour for the next two weeks. When we get back, we'll have some great new giveaways of band merchandise and our new book. If you're not already a groupie, sign up, so you'll have the latest info when we return.

Maelstrom Extra: An Inconvenient Invitation

2010-05-26T13:13:00.006-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kalila slipped out of her bottle in a silver mist, poured herself out of the building through gaps in the seal around a door, and drifted into an office park courtyard, where she curled around one of the painted steel spires of a modern sculpture representing the concept of liberty. Or perhaps it was just a rat. Even the humans themselves weren’t sure, and Kalila had no desire to try to figure it out. The sun had warmed the red-lacquered steel and she settled into a comfortable position so she could think.

Sunday brunch with Ricky and his mother. There were so many things wrong with the idea that it would’ve hurt her head to think about it, had she been in human form. For starters, she didn’t care for human food, although she could tolerate it if she had to. But this “meeting Mom” thing was another matter. Although she wasn’t sure of the precise social ramifications, she suspected it would be taken as a sign that she was a girlfriend of sorts, and that simply wouldn’t do.

For Ricky to have suggested it at all was an outrage. She should find him and give him a piece of her mind; make him abandon the ridiculous notion by force if she had to. There was a time not so long ago when she would’ve done just that, but something made her balk, and this new indecisiveness worried her. That she cared what a human might think was puzzle enough, but not wanting to disappoint Ricky was downright un-djinn-like.

She sighed and drifted over backward, elongating herself like a rope and swaying back and forth on the breeze while she tried to bring her scattered thoughts to order. One didn’t spend over two thousand years knocking around the planet without learning how to handle a situation or two. The correct thing would be to track Ricky down and punish him. Severely. The problem was that she wasn’t angry. Instead, she felt oddly excited. No one had ever invited her to meet their mother before. She shouldn’t care, of course, since it was just another human, but the strange feeling of pleasure persisted and she gradually stopped her swinging to contemplate it for a bit.

The twittering of a group of sparrows tussling over a bit of trash brought her back to her senses. Djinns didn’t get emotional. She gathered herself together and slid down the sculpture, drifting past the birds without their noticing. When she reached a service door hidden from view by hedges, she conjured herself into human form, comfortably dressed in jeans, boots, and a natty black jacket. Then she went to the sidewalk and mentally summoned a cab. She would go to Ricky and explain. No brunch. It was simply impossible. Or if she did go, it would have to be a very short brunch, at someplace expensive that served mimosas. And no matter what, he couldn’t introduce her as his girlfriend. Not now, not ever.

A djinn might find humans acceptable company from time to time, but one had to draw the line somewhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you enjoyed this story, you can now buy the book in print and Kindle versions from Amazon and e-book format from Fictionwise!.

Maelstrom Extra: Nothing But Trouble

2010-05-19T21:38:00.016-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a tight touring schedule and tonight the demons were tired and hungry. Vic leaned against the bar, pale and brooding, sniffing the air occasionally for a whiff of his favorite blood type. Lazaro already had his eye on someone - a studious-looking sort who probably had just the type of intellectual brain he liked to call dinner. As for Bo...Ricky looked around. If the bass player wasn't in a dark corner with one of the girls who had been vying for his attention during the last set, then he was probably up to no good in the manager's office, maybe with the manager himself.

Ricky sipped his drink, thinking how he dreaded nights like this. He needed to do something fast and pacify the band members before things got out of control, but he was out of sorts, himself. Days on a tour bus with a group of demons, a naive fairy, and a sexy, moody, djinn could do that to a guy.

He had been hired to babysit demons, though, no matter that his alleged title was "manager," so he set his empty glass on the bar and went to Vic. "Come on, man. You've got a nice stash of blood products in the fridge backstage, remember?"

Vic scowled and showed a hint of fang. "All I have left is AB negative. Nasty stuff. And don't get me started on the plasma. After a few days it starts to taste like the plastic bag it's stored in."

"Maybe you can find a fresh meal later at the hotel." He grasped Vic by the sleeve of his leather coat and pulled.

"Not if Bo starts banging the maids again," Vic protested. Nevertheless, he went with Ricky to where Lazaro was lurking behind a heavy post, keeping an eye on his chosen meal.

"Give it up," Ricky said. "I have it on good authority he repeated third grade twice and dropped out of high school."

Lazaro made a face. "Stupid brains are mushy."

"Exactly. Now come on. Don't you have anything left in your cooler from when you raided that medical school a few days ago?"

"I'm tired of pickles."

"I'm tired of him eating that crap, too," Vic said. "Every time I try to talk to him, it's like formaldehyde-breath."

"At least I don't smell like hemoglobin."

"What's wrong with iron and oxygen, zombie freak?"

Ricky ignored their squabble and led them through the crowd to the backstage dressing room, glad they were too tired to fight him. Inside, they startled Bo on the sofa in the voluptuous embrace of the girl who had been taking door charges earlier.

The girl saw them and shrieked, Bo's incubus seduction spell broken. She squirmed out of his grasp, threw on her clothes and darted from the room.

"Damn you." Bo glared at Ricky. "You couldn't have waited another fifteen minutes?"

No, Ricky couldn't have waited. He needed Vic and Lazaro someplace safe, away from temptation, and besides, the band was entitled to a generous percent of the cover. "She needed to get back to her job taking money at the door."

"Like we care about money." Bo flung himself full length on the sofa.

"Uh...would you please put some pants on?"

"Why? Do I turn you on?"

"In your dreams. You go back on stage in another..." he looked at the time on his BlackBerry. "Ten minutes."

Bo shrugged in unconcern while Lazaro fumbled in a cooler for snacks and Vic bit into a plastic blood bag. Ricky headed for the door, in no frame of mind to watch the vampire and zombie feed.

He was in the hallway leaning against the door and wondering how much trouble the guys would give him when it was time to take the stage again, when Kalila walked up, her breasts nearly bursting out of her leather corset and her red hair shimmering below her waist. "So this is where you are."

Ricky suppressed a sigh. "Yes, you found me. What kind of trouble do I have to get you out of?"

Without a word, she kissed him, her lips golden honey and her body sweet fire. His mind a haze of heat and desire, Ricky pulled her to him. Nothing mattered in this moment; not the band, not the show, not even the air he breathed. The djinn was trouble, worse in her way than any of the others, but she was all he needed, now and forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Good news, peeps! Maelstrom is now available in print and Kindle versions from Amazon and e-book format from Fictionwise!.

Maelstrom Extra: Missing Books

2010-05-12T19:27:00.009-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!

Ricky struggled with the heavy box, cursing as he tried to get it in the door of the studio. From behind the reception desk, which was really just for show since the band didn't allow visitors, Calvin frowned.

"What are you doing, human?"

"What does it look like? I guess you couldn't have held the door or anything."

Calvin returned his attention to a video game. "Not really."

Ricky set the box on a table and wondered if it would be worthwhile to say something about Calvin's manners. Since a lecture would probably be a waste of time, he went to the desk and started looking for something he could use to cut the box open.

"There you are, Ricky." Kalila strolled into the room. "You promised to be here half an hour ago so you could hear our new song."

"I needed to pick up a package."

Kalila approached the box and eyed it warily. "I see. And what's in here that's so important?"

"Books."

She raised her eyebrows. "Not those books."

Ricky stopped fumbling among the items on the desk. "Yes, 'those' books. They're copies of that new book about us."

"You mean the story about how you went from being in fear of your life from us to--"

"Don't give the ending away."

"Who would I be giving it away to? Calvin, you know this whole ridiculous saga, don't you?"

Calvin ignored her, absorbed in his video game.

"Look, would you just help me out, here? I need something to cut open the box with. Or better yet, how about you...?"

"Open it and remove the books for you by magic."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not your personal servant?"

"I thought maybe you'd do it as a favor."

Kalila turned away in annoyance. "Djinns don't do favors," she said, but as she left the room, she waved her hand in the direction of the box.

Ricky hurried over in a rush of excitement, and it opened at his touch.

Empty. He picked up the box, weightless now without the books, and looked around in dismay. "Kalila!"

From the end of the hall, he heard a faint voice. "Come hear our new song, Ricky."

"But...the books."

Calvin looked up from his video game. "She didn't hire you to sell books, human. Better go see what she wants."

With a sigh of frustration, Ricky trudged down the hall. "This had better be good, Kalila."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, folks, the rumors are true. Maelstrom is now available in e-book format from Fictionwise. Information about how to get the print version will follow just as soon as it's available But for now, if you're an e-book fan, go buy a copy of Maelstrom by following this link: Maelstrom!

Book Release Announcement!

2010-05-10T18:00:00.002-05:00

Hey, everyone - Ricky here. That book about us has just been released on Fictionwise, and guess what? It looks like it really is about me. (Sorry, Kalila.)

It's only available in e-format right now, but if that's what you like, click on over and get it. There's a "new book" rebate in effect right now, so it's a bargain!

Maelstrom

Maelstrom Book Release!

2010-04-29T00:11:00.005-05:00

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is both an announcement and a Sunday Scribblings post!

Vic: You've got to be kidding. A book signing?

Ricky: Well, uh...yeah. You know, our book.

Kalila: You mean my book. It's all about me.

Ricky: Actually, I think it's about me.

Kalila: It can't be, Ricky. Why would anyone want to read about a human?

Ricky: (rolls his eyes) Why, indeed? Just tell me if you'll do it.

Kalila: Of course I want to meet my fans.

Bo: I'll be there, too. It's okay if I sign body parts, right?

Ricky: Um, well...

Bo: Never mind, then. Sounds like a waste of time.

Vic: I agree. Unless...(gives Ricky a quizzical look) we could combine this with a blood drive or something. That's doable, right?

Ricky: Sorry. There's a...uh...phlebotomist shortage. Really unfortunate, isn't it?

Lazaro: I want to go. People who read are smart. Smart brains taste good.

Ricky: I was thinking maybe you should stay here and rehearse, Lazaro. Keep an eye on the studio and all that. Wouldn't want anyone sneaking in and stealing your drums or anything.

Lazaro: Never thought of that. Good idea.

Ricky: (looks around) Nevin, are you in? You'll do the book signing, right?

Nevin: Of course, Ricky. Anything to help you and the band.

Ricky: Great, it looks like we've got it all figured out. The event is tentatively scheduled for May 15, but I'll have more details later.

Nevin: (claps hands) Wonderful!

Kalila: Considering that the book is about me, it's about time.

Ricky: Actually, I'm pretty sure it's about me.

Kalila: Impossible.

Ricky: I guess we'll find out, won't we?

It's almost here, folks! Maelstrom is in the final stages of cover design and should be available for purchase on or about May 15, 2010. More information soon!

Announcements

2010-04-26T00:53:00.000-05:00

Hi, everyone. The book about us is scheduled for release on or around May 15, 2010. I'm still not sure just what it's about, but whatever it is, I hope it's good publicity. I guess when it comes to rock bands, there's no such thing as really bad publicity, is there?

I'll have more information about the book soon.

The band will be going on tour from May 29 through June 12, and hopefully we'll be able to do a few book signings, in addition to our scheduled gigs. When we get back, we'll be inviting some of our author friends to visit, and Bo will not be hitting on them, right Bo?

Bo, are you listening?

I'm sure he's listening. He's just pretending to ignore me.

Well, back to planning publicity. If this book is any good and not all libel, we just might have a contest and give a few copies away, so stop back often!

Maelstrom Extra: Feathered Friend

2010-04-18T10:23:00.006-05:00

This is a Sunday Scribblings offering, so be sure to check out Sunday Scribblings for more fun!

He had searched the rooms, the gift shop and the lobby. He had checked the hotel restaurant, to no avail. When Ricky stepped out onto the pool deck, it was with no real expectation that he'd have better luck here. He was about to leave in frustration and search the grounds, when something caught his eye.

There he was. But what was he doing standing in the corner, head tipped back, looking at the rain gutter with a goofy grin on his face?

Ricky walked over. "Nevin."

"Hi, Ricky."

"The equipment is loaded and everyone is on the bus, waiting. What are you—"

Nevin motioned for silence. "You'll scare her."

Ricky looked where Nevin indicated. Behind the rain gutter, he could make out bits of twig and grass, and a few pale feathers. "You're holding up the tour over a bird?"

"It's not just any bird. It's a dove. And she has a nest."

"All birds have nests," Ricky said. "It's what they do."

Nevin turned around. "Don't you see? She made it here, in a dangerous place. The gutter could break and the rain could destroy her eggs. A maintenance person could remove her nest and throw it away. Children playing at the pool could come over and find it, and think it's some kind of game or toy." He turned back to the bird with a sigh of pleasure. "She has faith in the world, Ricky. Isn't that lovely?"

Ricky kicked a pebble in annoyance. Birds didn't have faith, only instincts. And even if this particular bird had faith, what of it? "We don't have time for doves, trusting ones or otherwise. We have a gig to get to."

"Oh, Ricky." Nevin looked at him again, but this time with sadness in his eyes. "Where's your sense of wonder?" Without waiting for an answer, he walked away.

Ricky stood for a moment, looking after him, then glanced up again at the bird. She had shifted on her nest and was now eyeing him calmly, as if she knew she was being talked about and that she was safe.

Amazing, really. How did she know Ricky wouldn't hurt her?

"Good luck to you," he said softly. He walked away smiling.

Maelstrom Extra: Non-Standard Deviation

2010-04-07T21:51:00.004-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!

Kalila was going to be furious.

Ricky scanned the dim, noisy room, trying to identify the one he sought in the sex-saturated atmosphere of hooting men and half-naked women.

There he was, at a corner table, being entertained by a cute Latina with a mane of heavy black curls. Ricky pushed his way through the crowd. “Dammit, Bo, they’ve been looking for you for days.”

Bo traced a finger along the girl’s g-string. “I’ve been doing my best to satisfy them, but there’s only one of me.”

“I’m talking about the band, not the girls, you deviate.”

Bo drew back, offended. “I’m not devious. Why do you call me that?” He looked at the girl on his lap. “I play straight with you, don’t I babe?”

She giggled. “You’re not exactly straight. Natasha says you go both ways, but that’s okay with me. You’re honest, at least.”

Bo gave a curt nod. “There you have it, Ricky. I’m not devious at all.” He gestured toward a chair beside him. “Sit down and have a drink. You need to learn to relax.”

“You’ve been missing rehearsals and they’re all out looking for you. Do you still want to be with the band or what?”

“I haven’t missed any shows, have I?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Tell the others I’m having fun and I’ll see them when I see them.”

Ricky leaned his hands on the table. “That’s not how it works. You should be glad it’s me who found you and not Kalila.” He racked his brain for a way to entice him back. “Come with me now. I’ll take up for you. You won’t be in trouble.”

Bo shoved a bill in the girl’s g-string and motioned her off his lap. Then he looked up at Ricky with a dour expression. “Don’t lie to me. Kalila’s mad I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t punish you.”

“You’re just a human. You can’t do anything.”

“You’re a demon and she knows time is a tricky concept for you. You haven’t missed any shows, so all’s well that ends well, right?”

“I guess.” He stood up and reached in his pocket. “I don’t suppose there’s time for just one more—”

“No.” Ricky motioned for him to follow and started weaving his way out of the smoky club.

“Can’t we stop on our way back for even a few minutes?”

“Not even for a few seconds.”

Outside, Bo paused to look up at the clear night sky while Ricky continued toward the parking lot. After a moment, he ran to catch up. “You know, this band stuff is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“A lot of things are in life.” Ricky unlocked the doors and gestured for him to get in.

“Yeah, but—”

“None of that.” He slid into the seat and fumbled for the ignition. “We each have a job to do, so let’s just stay on track. No deviations, no thinking. Thinking is how a person gets in trouble.”

“Not me. I have other ways.”

“You can say that again.”

“So…no chance at all for a little fun?” Bo rested a hand on Ricky’s knee.

Ricky slapped his hand away. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Bo leaned back in his seat and sighed. “Damn, you’re grouchy.”

Ricky glanced in his mirrors and prepared to merge onto the freeway. “Yeah, Bo. Whatever you say.”

Kalila was going to be furious, all right.

Maelstrom Extra: Get Your Kicks on Route...666?

2010-03-31T17:01:00.004-05:00

This is a Three Word Wednesday offering, so be sure to check out Three Word Wednesday for more fun!

Ricky shoved the map across the table in the tour bus’s tiny kitchenette. “I’m telling you, it doesn’t exist.”

“Quit acting like this is just some crazy hunch,” Kalila said. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Consult your electronic device if you don’t believe me.”

“Fine.” He pulled the BlackBerry from its leather holster. “But we’re not stopping, even if we do find it. We have barely enough time to get to Flagstaff as it is.”

Kalila watched him press buttons on the tiny keypad. “This is important to us. Vic and Lazaro are very excited, and Bo thinks there’s sure to be at least one good strip club.”

“If this detour was that important to all of you, then you shouldn’t have taken so long getting ready this morning.”

“Demons sleep late. You know that.”

“Sometimes one has to make sacrifices.”

Kalila shrugged in unconcern and glanced out the window. “Hurry up with your research. You know how I hate being out of my travel bottle when the bus is moving.”

By now Ricky had found what he was looking for: US Route 491, formerly Route 666.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Ricky scowled and put the BlackBerry away. “There’s still no reason to get off the Interstate. They renumbered the road you’re looking for. It isn’t Route 666 anymore.”

“But it’s still the Devil’s Highway,” Calvin called from the front of the bus.

Ricky hadn't realized the driver was listening to their conversation, but werewolves had sharp ears. “I don’t care what it’s called. We’re on a schedule. You forced me to be your manager, so let me manage.”

Kalila sucked in her breath and didn’t answer for a long moment. Then she got up from the table, her eyes aglow. “I’ve had quite enough from you, human,” she said in caustic tones. “This is my band, and no one bosses a djinn.” Just before she dissolved into smoke, she called to Calvin, “You’re to follow my instructions, lycanthrope. Let the human whine all he likes.”

Ricky watched her pour herself into her specially reinforced travel bottle. Then he stood up with a sigh and went to the front of the bus.

Calvin glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Well?”

Ricky gave a resigned shrug. “You heard the lady. Take us to Route 666.”

Maelstrom Extra: Double Dog Dare

2010-03-24T22:17:00.009-05:00

The Labrador jerked on the leash and Ricky stumbled.

Kalila watched with cool curiosity. “Tell me,” she said, “what exactly does one get out of this relationship?”

Ricky started walking, struggling to bring the eager dog under control. “What relationship? Yours and mine?”

She sighed in exasperation. “Humans and dogs.”

“Oh.” The dog stopped to nuzzle an empty takeout container, but Ricky pulled him away. “Friendship.”

“I see,” she said, as the dog dragged Ricky down the street again. “And this is the sort of companionship you enjoy?”

“Not me. My brother. Believe me, as soon as he’s back in town, he can have this animal back. I’m just doing him a favor.”

“But your brother doesn’t like you. Why do him any favors?”

Ricky didn’t have a good answer. Mike’s request had been a little brazen, but Ricky had a soft spot for animals and it wasn’t the dog’s fault he had an arrogant bastard for an owner. “I like to think I’m doing the dog a favor. Shit!” The dog gave a mighty heave and the leash slipped from Ricky’s hand. He ran after the animal, cursing.

In a vacant lot, the dog stopped, panting and defiant. Every time Ricky tried to get close, he let out a happy yip and bounded away.

“This is not a game.” Ricky glanced over his shoulder as Kalila approached, serene and unconcerned. “Can’t you do something to help?”

She raised her eyebrows. “What on earth do you expect me to do?”

“A calming spell, maybe? If he runs away or gets hurt, my brother will kill me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. You humans have laws against murder, remember?”

Ricky gave her a baleful look.

“Fine.” With a gesture, she conjured a thick porterhouse steak at Ricky’s feet. The dog hesitated only a moment, then fell to.

While the dog ate, Ricky picked up the leash and felt his stomach growl. “Uh, Kalila?”

“What now?”

“Any chance you could conjure another of those when we get home? On the grill, though, not on the ground.”

“Why should I do that?”

“Friendship.”

“Yours and the dog’s?”

“Yours and mine.”

Kalila offered to hold the leash and hesitantly patted the dog's head. “It’s a bit odd to be friends with an inferior species.”

“You and the dog?”

“No, silly. You and me.”

They started walking. The dog was calm now and trotted at Kalila’s side. Ricky remained silent, not sure what to make of Kalila’s casual insult. Was she teasing him on purpose, or did she really not know she had given offense?

When they got to the house, they turned the dog loose in the back yard. “Do you want that steak now?” she asked.

“Because nothing’s too good for an inferior species?”

Kalila flashed him a mischievous grin and gave him a slow, sultry kiss. Then she clipped the leash to his shirt collar. “Because nothing’s too good for my pet, of course. And my friend.”

Maelstrom Extra: Backstage Demands

2010-03-20T23:15:00.005-05:00

“Unacceptable.” Vic threw the plastic bag on the floor.

Ricky cringed, relieved that the bag didn’t burst. “It’s all I could get. Deal with it.”

“It’s plasma.” Vic put his face close to his and bared his fangs. “I need whole blood, human, not this centrifuged crap.”

Ricky glanced around the dressing room, but Bo was adjusting his leather pants, Kalila was leaning into the mirror and doing something with her hair, and Nevin was entranced by a cup of tea. Only Lazaro returned his gaze, and it was with a scowl that Ricky knew meant even bigger trouble than he was in right now.

He turned back to Vic. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood products? I’m not a member of the medical profession – I’m just a band manager.”

“Not my problem.” Vic tossed himself into a chair and looked up at him with baleful eyes. “Vampires need fresh blood. It’s in my contract. Get me a girl, if you can’t get what I need in a bag. I don’t like that pre-packaged stuff, anyway. I only tolerate it to indulge your ridiculous human squeamishness.”

Ricky sighed and was about to say something, but the way Lazaro’s eyes bored into him was giving him the creeps. “What’s with you? Don’t tell me you don’t like your catered meal, either.”

“Pig brains are disgusting.”

There was no arguing that point, but as far as Ricky was concerned, the zombie drummer's usual fare was worse. “It’s not like I can just walk into the corner store and buy a human cerebellum, you know.”

“Maybe I should eat yours.”

Ricky sucked in his breath and met Kalila’s eyes in the mirror, pleading silently for help.

Kalila gave a little shrug. “The boys are right. You have obligations, Ricky.”

“But—” he went to stand behind her. “The contract is unreasonable. It holds me to standards no human can meet.”

“So?” She conjured a lipstick and pouted at her reflection. “What do you think of this color? Too much?”

“I think your expectations are too much.” Ricky plucked the lipstick from her hand so he would have her full attention. “You know as well as I do that you conjured my signature on that contract. You can’t hold me accountable to things I never agreed to in the first place.”

Kalila vanished the lipstick with a gesture, then turned her attention back to her mirror. “Too bad. You’re on the hook now, so do something.”

“Do what? Make humans available as food sources for your band members?”

Vic stood up and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sounds good to me. I’ll go do this set, and when I get back here, you better have a solution waiting. Preferably type O.”

Lazaro nodded and followed Vic toward the door. “She should be a college graduate too,” he said. “Someone with dense neurons.”

Ricky watched them leave. “Well, sure. Just make it sound easy, why don't you? Any other qualifications?”

Bo grabbed his guitar and brushed past him. “Make sure she’s sexy. I could use a snack, myself.”

Ricky fumed and was about to run after them and tell them to get over their ridiculous expectations when Kalila approached and cupped his cheek in her palm.

“You can do it.” Her voice was a siren song on a sultry night. “I have faith in you.”

Her kiss was fire and honey; a hot whiskey glow that burned through Ricky's body and left him weak in the knees. He stared at the empty doorway after she left, his ears straining for the sound of her guitar and his body yearning for her touch.

He would find a way to satisfy her bandmates. It would probably get him arrested, but what the hell, she was a djinn. She could spring him.

Ricky took out his BlackBerry and punched in a number. If he was lucky, the blood bank was open late and would deliver.

Maelstrom Extra: Coming Clean

2010-03-03T22:29:00.010-06:00

Ricky sighed with pleasure as the water beat down on his back. There was nothing like a hot shower after several hours in a smoky club. He scrunched his eyes shut and scrubbed shampoo into his hair.

He felt the change in temperature as the bathroom door opened, and he flailed about in alarm. Could a man defend himself with just a bar of soap and a bottle of baby shampoo?

“Hi, Ricky.”

“We hope we’re not disturbing you.”

Ricky tried to wipe the suds out of his eyes. “Kalila? Nevin?”

“Me, too,” said Bo.

“And me and Lazaro,” Vic added, “If the rest of them will let us in.”

“I got here first,” Nevin said in indignation. “But you can sit with me on the counter.”

“Never mind,” Kalila told them. “I’ll conjure chairs.”

Ricky shoved his wet hair off his forehead and poked his head around the shower curtain. “Wait a minute. This is my bathroom; my alone time. Is nothing sacred?”

Kalila conjured a velvet folding chair and sat down. “I’m a Zoroastrian, remember? Fire is sacred to me, not water. But carry on with what you’re doing, if it’s that important to you.”

“Yes, please continue your water ritual,” Nevin said from his perch on the countertop. “We promise not to take up too much of your time.”

“Take up my time with what?”

“An idea we had,” Bo said, with a leer that suggested he could see through the shower curtain. “Although I’m starting to get some new ideas. This room is a little crowded. Mind if I join you?”

Ricky ducked back behind the shower curtain. “You guys never cease to amaze me. Out. All of you. Now.”

There was a startled silence on the other side of the curtain, then Ricky heard the soft chittering of whispered conversation over the pounding of the water.

“Look, human,” Vic finally said. “We have a brilliant idea and we took time out of a night’s lurking and prowling to come here and discuss it with you, so the least you could do is listen.”

“You really aren’t being very friendly,” Nevin pointed out.

“This isn’t about being friendly, or having ideas, or…” Ricky paused. What good would it to do to explain? “I’m almost done, okay? Wait for me in the living room like normal people, and I’ll be there in a minute. Promise.”

Ricky heard grumbles from Vic and Lazaro and a sniff of annoyance from Kalila as they filed out.

The last set of footsteps paused near the door. “Ricky?”

“Go away, Bo.”

“I just wanted to say, 'nice ass.'”

Ricky grabbed the soap and threw it at him.

Alone again, with the steaming water beating down around him, Ricky tried to regain the sense of peace and relaxation that had been stolen from him, but the moment was gone, as frail and fleeting as a soap bubble.

He rinsed his hair under the water one last time. What did the demons want that was so important? They had an idea? Dear lord, if it was like any of their others, it was probably something ridiculous, illegal, or immoral. Maybe all three.

He reached for the faucet and shut off the water. Well, nothing was impossible. Maybe this time it was something brilliant. He opened the shower curtain to reach for a towel and found Kalila grinning at him. When did she sneak back in? Damnable djinn with her conjuring ways and—

She handed him a warm, fluffy towel.

Okay, so sometimes demons had good ideas.

“You got me,” Ricky said. “Come clean and tell me what you want.”

Maelstrom Extra: Djinn Dreams

2010-02-27T22:24:00.012-06:00

Kalila struggled out of Ricky’s embrace. “It's important that I become famous.”

“I know.” He pushed the sheets aside and tried to pull her back to him, but she wedged a pillow between them.

“You don’t really believe it.”

“Of course I do.” He tried to move the pillow, but she had done something magical to it and he couldn't make it budge. “I wouldn’t be managing you if I didn’t think you have what it takes.”

“Liar. You manage my band because I manufactured a contract with your blood on it, not because you have any faith in my dreams.”

Ricky sighed in frustration and flopped onto his back. What was it about immortals and their lousy sense of timing? “I don’t know why you want to talk about this now.”

“It's never a bad time to talk about things that are important.”

He rolled over and looked her in the eye. “You got me on board at the beginning by forcing me to be your manager, but I believe in you now. You’re going to make it.”

Kalila gazed at him with suspicion. “You don’t mean that. Or do you?”

“You’re beautiful and talented. Your band puts on a great show. You can make it to the top. I have every confidence in you.”

“Then why is it taking so long?”

“This isn't something you can conjure like you did that bottle of scotch earlier tonight, which I appreciated, by the way.”

“I know you like single malt.”

“Unless you want to take a shortcut and win fans by magic, you'll just have to keep working hard. It'll happen, though. Really.”

Ricky tried again to move the pillow and found the spell had been removed. He tossed it aside and pulled Kalila close, forgetting as he lost himself in the heat of her body that she was a djinn and he a mere mortal. He, of all people, understood that sometimes the biggest and most improbable dreams came true.

Maelstrom Extra: Amperage

2010-02-24T22:36:00.015-06:00

He heard it before the elevator reached the basement. As he walked toward the studio, the trembling of the walls and floor made Ricky wonder if he should turn back. His ears didn't deserve this kind of assault. Neither did anyone else's, though, and there were noise ordinances to consider.

He pushed open the door and the sound hit him like a body blow. Even his skin seemed to vibrate, and his heart felt like it was about to go into fibrillation. He waved his arms for the band’s attention, and mercifully, they stopped playing. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to turn it down.”

“Would you rather go in the other room and make a different kind of noise?” Bo teased. He made an obscene gesture with hips and guitar. "Rock bands are loud. If you can't handle it, maybe you're in the wrong line of work."

“That wasn't music, and you know it.” Ricky looked at Kalila. “So what’s this all about? Even the elevator was shaking.”

Kalila grinned in satisfaction. “The guy at the store said these were good amps, but we wanted to be sure.”

Vic nodded agreement. “If they couldn't generate the kind of volume he promised, we were going to take them back.”

“And eat his brain,” Lazaro added, with a thump of his bass pedal.

“I see.” Ricky glanced around the room. “I don't think you have to worry that you were sold a bill of goods. You’ll be lucky not to get a citation."

Nevin clapped his hands. "You mean like a prize?"

"No, like a ticket from a police officer."

"Oh. Human laws." Kalila shrugged and hit a few chords on her Stratocaster. "We got cited once before, I think. What was it for?"

"So-called indecency," Bo reminded her.

"No, it was public intoxication," Vic said. "As if it was my fault the girl's blood alcohol level was that high. She didn't look drunk when I bit her."

Lazaro grunted in disapproval and leaned over to adjust a cymbal. "They haven't caught me. I guess that's because I'm smart."

"I'd call it skill rather than smarts," Kalila said in frosty tones. She turned to Ricky. "As you can see, getting ticketed for noise is the least of our worries."

Ricky admitted to himself that she had a point. Besides, what could he accomplish with his meager words of human wisdom? "So we won't worry about the noise ordinances, then," he said. "But as a favor to my ears, and to everyone else who uses this building, would you turn down your amps anyway?"

Kalila moved to adjust her amp, and Bo followed suit.

"You can't deny it," Vic said, "these babies really do the job."

"If you mean make humans go deaf, I suppose they do." Ricky turned to go, but Kalila called him back.

"Did you come here for a reason, Ricky?"

He stopped, hand on the door. Why had he come to the studio? It wasn't the noise. Something about a gig? Advertising? He didn't even remember any more.

"Poor pathetic human," Vic said. "A little bit of noise makes your brain go all to pieces."

Kalila flashed a conspiratorial grin. "These amps just might've been our best buy ever."

Maelstrom Extra: When Pigs Fly

2010-02-20T22:56:00.007-06:00

“You idiot. They need to be bigger.”

Ricky pressed his ear against the door. What were the demons up to this time?

“Shut up, fang-face,” Kalila said. “When you can conjure, you can tell us how to do it.”

“I’m friends with bats,” Vic said. “If that’s not a credential, I don’t know what is.”

“It’s the feathers, Kalila,” Nevin said. “They’re lovely, but I'm afraid something doesn't look right.”

Curiosity got the better of him and Ricky opened the door. In the middle of the studio, near Vic’s microphone stand, stood a black and white spotted pig with a pair of tiny gray wings sprouting out of his back.

“What the hell?”

Kalila brushed her long red hair out of her face. “Oh, hi, Ricky. Maybe you can settle this.”

Ricky looked again at the pig. “Whatever it is, I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”

“It’s really quite simple,” Nevin said. “The man at the music store today said Hot Night, Cold Heart would hit platinum when pigs fly, so….”

“…it’s just a simple matter of conjuring,” Kalila finished for him. “But some people in this room,” she darted a hostile glance at Vic, “think we don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Those are pigeon wings,” Vic said. “Pigs aren’t aerodynamic. If you want to get that ridiculous creature off the ground, you need goose wings, or eagle wings – something powerful.”

“Uh, guys?” Ricky waved a hand for their attention. “'When pigs fly' is just a figure of speech. Airborne pigs aren’t going to get you a platinum record. I’m sorry.”

Nevin sighed in frustration and Kalila looked at Ricky through narrowed eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“But…” she pondered. “What about publicity? If we used this flying pig to get into the news, wouldn't that be like a promo gimmick?”

Ricky had to admit he hadn’t considered such a possibility. Then again, there were a lot of things he never considered with this band. “I suppose it’s possible.”

Vic shook his head in disgust. “I’m telling you, those wings are too small. That swine will never get off the ground.”

The pig grunted in answer, and Ricky seized the moment. “Maybe instead of putting wings on a pig, you should rehearse.”

Kalila scowled and vanished the wings with a wave of her hand. “Fine, Ricky. Take all the fun out of it.”

“You’re the one who told me you wanted to become famous by following human rules.

“I’ve told you too many things.” She went to her guitar stand and picked up her Stratocaster. “At the rate we’re going, we really won’t get famous until pigs fly.”

Maelstrom Extra: Demon Ethics

2010-02-14T10:24:00.004-06:00

Ricky glanced around the room. It had been hell rounding up the band – demons weren’t inclined to come when called. “I think it’s time we talked about something that’s very important to humans.”

Bo quit pouting and looked up with a grin. “Sex?”

Vic smacked him on the shoulder. “No, you idiot. Blood. Their kind can’t live without it.”

“Actually,” Ricky said, “I thought we’d have a little discussion about ethics.”

Nevin nodded and adopted a thoughtful expression. Kalila conjured a dictionary and began flipping through the pages. Lazaro yawned, and the others gave him blank looks.

“I realize this may be a new concept for you,” Ricky went on. “But what I’m talking about is standards. Morality. Human expectations of behavior.”

“According to the twins I was with half an hour ago, I met all their expectations,” Bo said. “I don’t understand why you think there’s a problem.” He glanced over his shoulder at the drummer, who was dozing off. “Unless you’re referring to Lazaro.”

“Well, that’s part of it. Will someone wake him up, please?”

Vic yanked on Lazaro’s chair and sent him tumbling to the floor. “Pay attention, stupid. The human is lecturing us about morality.”

Lazaro sat up and rubbed his head. “Oh. Was that her name? I guess I should’ve hidden the body better.”

Ricky took a step toward him. “I thought the only one you had tonight was that bar back.”

“His brain was no good. The girl was much better. Ph.D. candidate.”

“Dammit, Lazaro! This is exactly the sort of thing I’m trying to explain to you. This is wrong, it’s immoral, it’s certainly illegal, and—”

By now Kalila had found the dictionary entry she was looking for. “Ethics: the study of standards of conduct and moral judgment; moral philosophy. The system or code of morals of a particular person, religion, group, or profession.”

“Yes,” Ricky said. “That’s exactly it.”

Vic flashed him a dark look from underneath his brows. “We’re a rock band. If we cared about moral codes, we’d have joined a symphony.”

“And I still don’t see what any of this has to do with me,” Bo added. “Can I go? I promised the bar manager and his cousin that we’d act out some of my favorite scenes from Hot and Horny in Halifax.”

Kalila nodded wisely. “The dictionary is very clear, Ricky. Ethics can be relative to a person, group, or profession. Just because you think it’s wrong that some of us eat brains, drink blood and have indiscriminate sex, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong for us.” She vanished the dictionary with a wave of her hand, stretched out her long legs and sighed. “Is this discussion over now? We’re exhausted.”

“Not all ethics are relative. There are some things that are absolute, every time, everywhere.” Ricky tried to give them each a stern look, but Lazaro had dozed off again, Vic was yawning, and Bo was getting agitated.

Kalila gazed up at him with sleepy, sultry eyes. “And what’s your point?”

Ricky hesitated. He wanted to go on, to explain all the ways in which the band was failing to meet basic standards of behavior, but he had a feeling the moment had passed. “Fine. We’ll take this up again some other time.”

Some battles just couldn’t be won in a day.

Maelstrom Extra: Musical Milestone

2010-01-30T23:04:00.009-06:00

Ricky pulled his SUV into a parking space, cut the engine, and ran into the club. Of all nights to get delayed! And when he tried to call the venue manager to see if the band had shown up, nothing. The BlackBerry went dead in his hands.

He grabbed the first employee he saw. “Is the band here?”

“I think so. Their stuff is on stage.”

They had done that much without him, at least. But that didn’t mean they had gone through a proper sound check or that they were in any way prepared to perform. Without him watching, pestering, and monitoring their every move, the band members were likely to wander off on demonic errands of their own.

He pushed open the door of the dressing room and found Bo checking out his leather pants in a full-length mirror, Kalila at a makeup mirror applying lipstick, and Vic sucking on a plastic blood bag, likely stolen from a local hospital. At the edge of the sofa, Lazaro practiced his rhythms with a pair of snare sticks on a coffee table.

Nevin, sedate as always, sat apart from the group, sipping tea. He raised his eyebrows as Ricky stumbled into the room. “You look alarmed about something. Is everything okay?”

Ricky paused to catch his breath. “You’re all here.”

“Yes. We have a show.” Nevin frowned. “Don’t you remember?”

“It’s just I—”

Kalila dropped her lipstick into a bag and turned around. “It’s just you thought we couldn’t do it without you. Isn’t that right, human?”

“More like I thought you wouldn’t.”

Vic sneered, baring his fangs. “Stupid mortal. You’re not as important as you think.”

“He’s right.” Nevin nodded sadly. “We’ve been playing together longer than you’ve been in the music business, Ricky. I’m afraid you often forget.”

“And you act like I don’t know your history: failure to show up on time or to perform at all, leaving gigs halfway through a set, accidentally killing your fans…you’ve been hounded out of three cities and had to change your name five times. I think I have reason to worry.”

Kalila stood up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Well, this has been very interesting, but in case you haven’t noticed the time, we need to get out on stage.” She flounced out of the room and the other band members fell in behind her.

Ricky started to follow, then paused. They had done this much correctly without his help. Maybe he should back off and give them a chance to prove themselves. They had hired him to teach them how to manage their career like humans, and human bands didn’t have their promoter breathing down their necks all the time.

He sat in Nevin’s vacated chair and picked up the copy of Audubon Magazine the fairy had left behind. He was flipping through some pictures of quails, fighting the urge to check up on the band, when the dressing room door opened.

The club manager looked as startled as Ricky. “I didn’t expect to find you here. Something the matter?”

“Why would you think that?”

“This is just an odd place for a guy to hang out, that’s all. Needed a little downtime, huh? Maelstrom is a crazy bunch.”

“You’re telling me.” Ricky smiled and stood up. “But I think we may have reached a milestone tonight.” He dropped the magazine on the table. He would find himself a good spot at the bar, and try to relax and enjoy the scene.

There was going to be a good show tonight.

Maelstrom Extra: Order: Chiroptera

2010-01-27T22:07:00.015-06:00

Ricky pushed his way into the dressing room. “This is going to be great, guys. The house is packed, everyone’s excited, and—” the expressions on their faces brought him up short. “What’s the matter? Nevin, I loaded your iPod with soothing songs and you’ve got a dozen rainforest-friendly chocolate bars for snacking. Lazaro, I know it’s not ideal, but you’ll enjoy the head cheese. And Vic—” he looked around. “Okay, everyone, where’s Vic?”

Bo stopped fondling a groupie on the sofa. “He had to run an errand.”

“Okay.” Ricky glanced at his watch. “He’s on his way back, right?”

Kalila sighed and shook out her hair in front of the mirror. “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. Maybe he’ll be back in time, maybe not.”

“But you have a show. I worked hard to get you this gig.”

“And we appreciate it,” Nevin said. “But Vic found a dead bat on our way in and felt it very important that he return it to its kindred.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. You’re going to screw up a paid gig with advertising, beacon lights, and everything, over a dead bat?”

Kalila stopped admiring her reflection and turned around. “You wouldn’t want him to grieve, would you? He feels a very strong connection to mammals of the chiroptera order.”

“But couldn’t he do this after the show?” Ricky felt foolish even as he asked. Demons had a poor concept of time and didn't order their priorities by human standards.

“There’s never any time like the present,” Bo said. He turned his attention back to his girl.

Ricky stomped out of the room in disgust. He would have to do something, fast, but just what he wasn’t sure. Racking his brain for ideas, he recalled reading in the tourist literature something about a bat bridge in the area. Maybe he could go there, for starters. He shuddered at the thought. Bats with their leathery wings unnerved him. Then again so did vampires and zombies, but he hadn’t let that stop him from marketing this crazy band.

He reached in his pocket for his car keys. He would go to the bat bridge, then. And whatever Vic's bonds of affection for the disgusting creatures, he had better be ready to get back to this club and sing. One didn't hold up a rock concert for a bat funeral.

Maelstrom Extra: The Cow

2010-01-13T23:46:00.000-06:00

Ricky sat hunched over the laptop, so absorbed in his work he didn’t notice the bus was slowing until it stopped with a jolt that sloshed coffee out of his cup and onto the table. He looked up. “What’s the matter?”

“Cow,” Calvin called back.

Ricky walked to the front of the bus and peered out the window. The flat ribbon of highway stretched toward the horizon and infinity, and there in the middle of it stood a placid brown cow, eyeing the bus with bovine complacency.

Calvin cut the engine and got up. “She'd make a good dinner.”

Nevin joined them, curious about the delay. “That’s not very nice.” He looked at the cow and waved. “We should make her our mascot.”

Calvin growled. “Cows are food, fairy.”

“Perhaps you should become a vegetarian.”

“Werewolves aren’t—”

“Guys.” Ricky waved for their attention. “Whether cows are food or pets is moot. This cow belongs to someone and we need to get her off the road and be on our way.” He looked around. “Does anyone here know how to do that?”

Silence.

Ricky found Kalila’s travel bottle and tapped on it. “We need you out here.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “We need help getting a cow off the road.”

The voice that answered was wispy and faint. “I’m a djinn, not a cowgirl.”

“Fine.” He put the bottle away and walked to the back of the bus. “Come on guys, I need some help here.”

“Ask me again after dark,” Vic said from behind the blackout curtains on his bunk.

“Is the cow sexy?” Bo asked.

Lazaro waved a drum mallet with characteristic zeal. “I’ll get rid of her. Boom!”

“Uh…thanks. I’ll let you know if I decide to take you up on that.” Ricky walked back to the front of the bus. Stupid demons. They were magical, immortal, and had been around a hell of a lot longer than he had. You’d think one of them would know how to do something about a simple cow.

Before he could reach the front, Calvin slid back into his seat and cranked the engine. “Cow’s gone. Got bored and wandered off.”

“She was very pretty,” Nevin said. “I would’ve liked making friends with her.”

“Steaks,” Calvin corrected him. “Very rare.”

“No. She was a beautiful creation of nature, and—”

Ricky quit listening and returned to his laptop. The argument probably wouldn't continue much longer, and in the meantime he would check his email. Then later, if Calvin was still annoyed at not having gotten an easy meal, they could stop for dinner. Although he would never admit it to the others, Ricky had a sudden craving for barbecue.

Maelstrom Extra: Feline Ways

2009-12-09T22:09:00.011-06:00

Kalila drifted under the door in a plume of blue smoke. She sensed the apartment was empty, but drifted from room to room, just to be sure. Where the hell was Ricky? She stretched her consciousness in search of him but found only a static of aggravation. Was he stuck in traffic? Negotiating a contract? Perhaps someone had done something to offend him.

No matter. She would wait.

She pulled herself together, swirled, and became lighter, with golden fur and white whiskers. In a single lithe movement, she leaped onto Ricky’s bed and stood for a moment, looking about with an air of feline superiority. Then she sat on her haunches and began washing herself, licking her paws and swiping them over her face and ears.

When she was groomed to her satisfaction, she stalked to the head of the bed and curled up on Ricky’s pillow. She dozed for a bit, dreaming of guitars and tuna, until her sensitive cat’s ears and powerful djinn consciousness told her he was home. She lifted her head off her paws when he entered the room, and she followed his movements with grave attention.

“You wouldn’t believe the day I had,” he told her.

She resisted the temptation to tell him she’d seen worse.

“People suck, you know that?”

Yes, she did know. But what could one expect from humans?

“Sometimes I wish…” He had been emptying his pockets, putting wallet, coins, and BlackBerry on the dresser, but now he turned and looked at her. “You really have it made.”

He sat on the bed and she climbed into his lap, purring at his touch as he buried his fingers in her thick yellow fur.

“You’re lucky to be just a cat.”

She was hardly just a cat, but this didn’t seem the time to point that out.

“No troubles, no real worries.”

Silly mortal. Of course she had worries. But right now, they didn’t seem very important.

“How about I get us something to eat and we’ll watch a little TV together?”

Kalila watched him leave the room and flicked her tail in annoyance. She didn’t think much of the kibble he put in a bowl on the floor for her each night, and she thought even less of human television shows. But Ricky’s lap was warm, his touch electric, and at least as a cat, she could enjoy him without any fear that he would misunderstand and think she actually…well, of course she didn’t love him. Djinns didn’t have such feelings.

She heard the kibble in the bowl. She would go out there and vanish it when he wasn’t looking, so he would be reassured that he was doing right by her. Poor human. It really was tough to get through the day when you were merely mortal.

She leaped to the floor, and with tail held high, sauntered from the room.

Maelstrom Extra: Civilized

2009-12-02T22:41:00.006-06:00

The band members looked around in silence while Ricky tipped the bellboy. But as soon as Ricky closed the door, they fanned out to investigate. Bo went into one of the rooms and threw himself onto the bed. Vic and Lazaro hurried to close the drapes against the afternoon sun. Nevin wandered from room to room, gazing in raptures at the art on the walls and the freshly cut flowers in crystal vases.

With a skeptical expression, Kalila crouched to examine a Persian rug and smiled to discover it was the real deal. She stood up and began searching for the perfect spot for her travel lamp. “I like this place, Ricky.” She set her bronze oil lamp on the fireplace mantle, took a step back and considered. “It’s much more sumptuous that the dives you usually book for us.”

From one of the other rooms, Vic called, “I could do without all the windows, though. And has anyone seen my shroud? I know I didn’t forget to pack it.”

“Well, I think the windows are lovely,” Nevin said. “Or they would be if we could have the curtains open.” He stuck his nose into a vase of roses and inhaled deeply. “This is so nice.”

“I thought since there’ll be a lot of publicity for this festival, we’d make a good impression on fans and reporters by staying at the same hotel as the headliners,” Ricky explained. “Behave yourselves, and I’ll continue putting you into places like this.”

Shirtless now, Bo left one bedroom, sauntered into the other, and once again threw himself onto the bed, this time bouncing a little and tossing a pillow in the air. “They went all out on the furnishings. These are good posture-pedics. I’ll get a kick out of putting them to use.”

“Stop that,” Ricky said. “No more than two groupies, no wives or girlfriends from other bands, and don’t even think about fondling the maids and other hotel staff.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Use the tour bus,” Vic advised.

“If he uses the tour bus, where will I hide the bodies?” Lazaro asked.

“Uh, guys?” Ricky held up a hand for their attention. “None of that, okay? You’re in a civilized place, so would you please try to act the part? Fake it. Just for a couple nights.”

Vic leaned against a door frame. “We’re a rock band. Just how civilized are we supposed to be?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Kalila gave Vic a subtle wink, then put a hand on Ricky’s arm. “Don’t try too hard to make them understand,” she said, her voice like a cat’s purr. “How about we go to your room, and you can explain it to me there.”

“I don’t know if…I mean, I thought you were going to rehearse.”

“Later.” She tugged on his sleeve. “Come on. Let’s see if your room is as nice as ours.”

After they left and the door clicked shut behind them, Vic and Bo exchanged a look.

“Party time?” Lazaro asked.

Vic shook his head. “I just want to find my shroud so I can take a nap.”

“None of you will mind if I watch one of the porn channels, will you?” Bo asked.

“Just keep the volume down,” Lazaro said. He found one of his bags and pulled out a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. “I want to get caught up on my reading, and this has a lot of big words. Your movies distract me.”

While everyone went their separate ways, Nevin conjured a small stringed instrument and found a seat near a window. He pulled the drapes aside just enough that he could see outside and enjoy the view, then he began playing. Ricky really did worry too much. Demons could be as civilized as anyone when they wanted to be.

Maelstrom Re-Post: Happy Thanksgiving!

2009-11-26T01:35:00.002-06:00

No new post today, but those of you who are new to the site may enjoy reading last year's Thanksgiving story.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Maelstrom Extra: A Relaxing Cup of Tea

2009-11-11T23:23:00.003-06:00

“You shouldn’t worry.”

Ricky watched Maura make sweeping gestures over a china cup. It crossed his mind to ask what she was doing, but he suspected he didn’t want to know. “That’s what Kalila always says.”

“It’s true.” She peered into the cup and beamed in satisfaction.

“Did they at least tell you where they were going?”

“No.” She placidly set the cup in front of him. “I helped them remove their makeup like I do after every show, and then they left.” She gave a little shrug. “Drink your tea. It’ll help you relax.”

Ricky peered into the cup of murky liquid. “Are you sure this is tea?”

“Positive. I’ve been working very hard on my spells.”

“I see.” The problem with Maura was that hanging around the band made her hanker to be more than an ordinary mortal. It wasn’t enough that she was a gifted cosmetic artist who could make Vic show up on camera and mute Nevin’s fairy sparkle – she wanted magical powers. Ricky pushed the cup of suspicious liquid aside. “I think I’ll wait for it to cool.”

He picked up his BlackBerry and scrolled through his messages, hoping to distract himself with the needs of his other clients, but none of his emails were urgent.

He picked up his cup of “tea” but the odd-looking greenish liquid still didn’t appeal, so he set the cup aside and returned to his BlackBerry. He checked the weather. He tried to read the news.

Maura was now in a corner of the room doing something that involved colored powders and chanting. Ricky tried to ignore her and had almost succeeded in immersing himself in a human interest story when a tang of smoke caught his attention.

Thinking it some errant spell of Maura’s he looked up, but found Kalila standing in front of him, still hazy around the edges. “Where have you been?”

“I’m back now, so why does it matter?”

“It matters because you didn’t tell me. You and the others walked right out like you didn’t owe anybody any sort of explanation, or—”

“Yes?”

He could tell from the look of amusement in her eyes that she was only pretending to listen. She would do as she had always done; djinns didn’t obey humans except when it suited them. “Your equipment is loaded,” he said. “We can leave anytime.”

As they headed toward the door, Maura called after them. “Wait, Ricky. What about your tea?”

“Uh, I think it’s gotten cold. Thanks, though. It was a nice thought.”

He followed Kalila out the door, and after pausing a moment to consider, Maura darted after them.

Abandoned on the low table, the china tea cup darkened and cracked. Caustic liquid oozed out, burning a groove in the wood as it flowed across the surface. In thick acrid drops, Maura’s tea dribbled off the edge, and unseen by human eyes, began eating a hole in the concrete floor.

Maelstrom Extra: Bar Karma

2009-11-04T23:44:00.006-06:00

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Beth is a minor character in Maelstrom. She is Ricky's ex-girlfriend from college and is the first club owner to book Maelstrom after Ricky becomes their manager. She's a tough cookie by the time we see her in the novel, but here she's just starting out. This is also a Three Word Wednesday story.

Beth stood behind the bar, gazing in exasperation at the water gushing from the broken faucet. One hour until opening. Was there something wrong with her karma? She had been running this small, dingy club for barely a month and it seemed like it was one thing after another.

“Can you fix it?” Joella asked.

“Do I look like a plumber?” Beth reached for her BlackBerry. “I just hope my guy isn’t too busy right now.”

“Joella fixed her with a look that could wither grass. “Guy? Why did you buy a lesbian bar if you aren’t going to keep the business in the community?” She shook her head in disgust, unlocked a cabinet and began pulling out bottles of scotch. “You need to call Dykes with Dykes.”

“Who?”

“Dykes with Dykes.” She said it slowly, as if Beth didn’t understand English. “It’s listed as Teller Lane Tools in the directory, but we—”

“Understood.” Beth did a search on Teller Lane Tools. “Do you think they’ll give us priority?”

“We look out for our own.”

The scrawny, snub-nosed blonde who showed up half an hour later didn’t look like any plumber Beth had ever seen, but Tommie carried the requisite case of tools and marched to the scene of the problem with such an aura of command that Beth didn’t ask any questions and jumped to obey her orders: more light, move the mat, and would someone please turn down the house music so a gal can hear herself think?

Twenty minutes later, the problem was fixed.

“Back in compliance,” Tommie said as she put her tools away.

Beth took the offered invoice. The price was more than reasonable, so she took some cash out of the till. “Thanks for everything. Can I buy you a drink?”

“No flirting with the plumber.” Tommie winked as she folded the bills and stuffed them in her pocket.

Beth wondered if she should mention that she was straight; that she had only bought the club to make a quick buck and move on to better things. But no, why go there? What people thought didn’t matter. “Well, the offer is good any time. Thanks for saving my butt.”

Beth watched Tommie go, then turned back to the bar. The bottles and glassware were set up, Joella was cutting limes, and all was as is it should be. Some day Beth would be a rich woman, if she had anything to say about it. But for now, this was enough, and maybe her karma was okay, after all.

Maelstrom Extra: Incidental Expenses

2009-10-28T22:45:00.003-05:00

“You embarrassed me, Ricky.”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“It wasn’t vanity; I needed that jacket.”

“All twelve of them? And what about the bracelets, and the boots, and—

“I needed them, too.”

He waved the bill at her. “You’re a djinn. Why don’t you conjure these things, instead of putting it all on plastic?”

“You said you wanted us to do things like humans, did you not?”

“Yes, but this is difficult to explain to the accountant, as you just saw. Can you at least tell me why you ‘needed’ three new guitars in one month?”

“They’re fun to collect.”

“Like the Baccarat crystal eggs? What the hell was that about? Are you collecting those now, too? Are you going to incubate them?”

Kalila snatched the bill from Ricky’s hand. “You’re out of line, human. It’s my band, my money, and you have no right to criticize me.”

“You asked me to manage every aspect of your career, and your finances are a nightmare.”

“The entire economy is a nightmare, in case you haven’t noticed.” She incinerated the bill and smiled at Ricky’s expression of dismay. “Now come on, mortal, lighten up. No need to get worked up over incidentals.”

Maelstrom Extra: All About the Girls

2009-10-21T22:21:00.008-05:00

Vic sat in the dressing room sipping from a blood bag while Bo lounged on the sofa with a girlie magazine. Nevin cradled a cup of tea and listened while Kalila picked out a new tune on her acoustic guitar. In the corner, Lazaro tapped out a rhythm on a small table.

Calvin poked his head into the room. “Girl out here to see you, Vic.”

Before Vic could answer, Bo set the magazine aside and swung his feet to the floor. “You mean for me.” He stood up and stretched.

“No, for Vic. She seems kind of obsessed.”

Bo stared. Girls usually only had heartache for him.

On the other side of the room, Vic sucked the last drops from his bag and tossed it aside. “It’s about time we had a fan with good sense. Tell the young lady I’ll be right out, Calvin.”

As he headed toward the door, Bo jumped in front of him. “No way, bloodsucker. He got it wrong. She wants me.”

“Not every mortal creature wants you, sleazy.” Vic shoved him in the chest. “Get out of the way.”

Bo shoved back. “Forget it. She’s mine. It’s for her own good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You remember what Ricky said. You’re too reckless. You leave the girls unconscious and anemic.”

“I’ll be careful this time.” Vic picked up one of Lazaro’s wooden drum mallets and brandished it. “Now get out of the way.”

Bo flung himself at Vic and the mallet went flying. In a jumble of arms and legs, they fell against a table, knocking an assortment of accessories and small jangling items to the floor, and then they were on the floor themselves, fists flying as they punched and grappled with abandon.

While Lazaro retrieved his mallet, Nevin and Kalila exchanged a shrug and returned to what they had been doing before. It was just another demon fight, like many before.

Several minutes later, Calvin opened the door again. “You guys coming out for the next set? Ricky’s on his way. He’s pissed.”

Vic and Bo stood up and dusted themselves off. “Oh, sure,” Vic said. “But first, the girl.”

“Definitely the girl first, then music,” Bo agreed.

Calvin shook his head. “She’s gone. Got tired of waiting.”

Kalila brushed past them with Nevin in tow. “That’ll teach you,” she said in her smug djinn way.

“Stupid demons,” Lazaro agreed, following Kalila out the door.

Vic and Bo looked at each. “Try again after the show?” Vic said.

“Sure. But it’s me they want, you know.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Calvin rolled his eyes. “Just get out there, before Ricky throws a fit. By the way, I think I got the feedback problem corrected while you were on break, and I taped down that cord again – the one you guys kept tripping on.”

“Great.” Vic grinned, showing the tips of his fangs. “Now we’ll be able to concentrate on our music.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Bo agreed as he followed him out the door. “That and the girls.”

“Oh, definitely,” Vic said. “It’s all about the girls.”

Maelstrom Extra: Indecent Exposure

2009-10-14T14:29:00.014-05:00

Ricky paced the living room floor, jingling his keys. What could be taking so long? He stopped at the coffee table and tapped on the brass lamp. "We're going to be late."

He jumped back as the lamp shot blue sparks and smoke started pouring out. It took only a few seconds, but seemed like forever before Kalila appeared, hazy and clearly unhappy. "You mortals need to learn to be less particular. Time is an artificial construct."

She went on to say a few things about the sun and its position in the sky relative to the rotation of the earth, but Ricky was in no mood to listen. "Please tell me you're not going dressed like that."

She looked at him in bewilderment. "Is there a problem?"

Was there a problem? Only that her skirt was the size of a handkerchief and the gauzy blouse was so sheer it left nothing to the imagination. "We're going to dinner with an important backer for your next tour. What you're wearing is not only inappropriate, it's indecent."

Kalila blinked. "I don't understand. I thought--"

"We don't have time to think." Ricky glanced at his watch. "Just change into something else."

With a sigh of annoyance, Kalila vanished back into her lamp.

"Less skin, okay?" he called after her. He sat down on the sofa to wait.

A few minutes later, she emerged again, this time in embroidered crimson silk that reached from her neck to her wrists, clung tightly to her waist and fell in cascades to just above her ankles. "Better?"

Ricky struggled against the heat rising within him. How was it possible that she was even more enticing than when she had everything on display? Did she do this just to frustrate him?

Well, he only needed to get her to the restaurant; he didn't have to understand. He stood up and held out his arm to her. "You look amazing."

Maelstrom Extra: Six-String Dreams

2009-10-07T22:25:00.010-05:00

The studio was too quiet. Ricky checked the shabby rooms one by one, but it was clear the band wasn’t around. Everything was set up for rehearsal, though. If he hadn’t known them better, Ricky would’ve thought they stepped out for a pizza.

He brushed his fingers across a cymbal and frowned at the drums, amps and electrical cords. There was never any telling what a group of demons might do next. He should try to track them down before they committed some act of mayhem.

Ricky started toward the door, but the red and gold gleam of Kalila’s new Stratocaster caught his eye. He hesitated. One didn’t handle someone else’s instruments. He picked it up anyway. It had been a few years since he held a guitar and its weight felt unfamiliar, but after a foolish glance over his shoulder as if someone were watching, he strapped it on and picked out a few notes.

The metal strings vibrated under his fingertips, a soft, shy sound that stirred Ricky’s long-fallow ambitions of being something more than a promoter. He wasn’t without ability, but he understood his limits; he lacked the spark of real talent.

He picked out a chord, then a simple melody from a favorite song, fumbling the progression. Well, his abilities had always been more toward keyboards and vocals. The guitar and all its sex appeal had never come naturally to him.

Still…he tried the progression again. Maybe if he worked at it, practiced…

“Thinking of joining the band?”

Ricky looked up in embarrassment.

“No auditions today.” Kalila made a small gesture and the guitar pulled itself from Ricky’s grasp and returned to its stand.

“I’m sorry.”

Kalila watched him, a glint of laughter in her amber eyes. “You could play with us sometime, if you like.”

“I’d be wasting your time.”

“Time means nothing to immortals. But as you wish.” She motioned him toward the door and turned out the light. “Go home. No rehearsal tonight.”

Ricky walked out of the room, grateful for the reprieve. She should’ve been angry, but one could never predict what a djinn would do. He was waiting for the elevator when he heard footsteps.

“You forgot something.” Kalila came up to him and set a battered case at his feet. “It’s one I don’t play any more. Someone ought to get some use out of it.”

Before Ricky could speak, she vanished in a curl of blue smoke. The elevator dinged and the doors cranked open. Ricky picked up the guitar case. “Thanks,” he told the empty air.

Maelstrom Extra: Photo Shoot

2009-09-30T23:18:00.003-05:00

“This,” Vic said as he paced the floor, “Is what comes of your ridiculous policy of making us be on time for everything.”

Ricky pulled out his BlackBerry. “Stop that. She’ll be here any minute.”

“I hope so.” Nevin conjured a chair and sat down with a heavy sigh. “This is an ugly place. It’s making me very depressed.”

Ricky glanced at the brick walls, sooty and stained with graffiti. High windows let in yellow shafts of light through their broken panes. A photo shoot in an old factory wasn’t an original idea, but the photographer had sold him on it by assuring him the play of light and shadow at this time of day would be incredible. She was right.

“Well, I just want to get on with it,” Kalila said, kicking a coil of filthy rope. She stepped back and gestured for it to unwind itself, and laughed as it snaked toward the rafters.

“Will you stop that?” Ricky said.

The rope fell back upon itself in a cloud of dust and Kalila turned on him. “Why so cranky? I’m only trying to have a little fun.”

“Can’t you do something normal and human for entertainment?”

“I find those two terms mutually exclusive.” She conjured a Rolling Stone magazine and sat down beside Nevin to wait.

Ricky checked the time on his BlackBerry. Fifteen minutes late. No call, no text. The young woman had seemed reliable; an ambitious, up-and-coming sort, eager to make a name for herself. She didn’t strike him as the sort to bail on them.

He heard footsteps and looked up, but it was only Lazaro lumbering in from a dark hallway at the other end of the abandoned warehouse floor.

“This place sucks,” Lazaro announced.

“Let me see if I can reach her.” Ricky tried to call the photographer but didn’t get an answer. “We’ll wait ten more minutes, and if she still doesn’t show, we’ll leave. Tell Bo, would you?”

Lazaro muttered and stalked back into the darkness.

Ricky accepted a chair from Kalila and sat down. Ten minutes became fifteen. Then twenty. The others looked at him expectantly.

“Fine.” Ricky stood up. “Bo! Lazaro! Come on, we’re leaving.”

Lazaro emerged from the shadows, alone.

“Where’s Bo? Tell him we’re going back to the studio.”

“I don’t know where he is. I’m not some demon’s keeper,” Lazaro said. He brushed past him, heading toward the door.

His mind bursting with a sudden suspicion, Ricky followed the others outside where a car with remarkably steamy windows was parked in the weed-choked lot. He had been wondering if he should call the photographer again, but now there was no need. Ricky put the BlackBerry away. “Let’s go back inside, guys,” he told the others. “I have a feeling we’ll be able to get started soon, and the photographer will be in a very happy mood.”

Maelstrom Extra: The Missing Bottle

2009-09-23T23:45:00.007-05:00

Ricky took the bottle off the cluttered shelf and held it to the light.

“That’ll never do,” Nevin said.

“Why not?” He started to rub off the dust so he could get a better look at the antique silver, but thought better of it. Indiscriminately rubbing lamps and bottles was how he ended up managing a paranormal rock band in the first place. “I’m sure it’s pretty underneath the tarnish.”

“But it’s not strong enough to survive a high-velocity auto accident,” Nevin pointed out. “You know how afraid she is of crashes.”

Ricky put the bottle back on the shelf. For an immortal, Kalila was picky. “This one looks stronger.” He reached for a wrought-iron bottle with decorative inlaid bands of greening copper. “A little polish will fix this right up.”

Nevin shook his head. “Too similar to the one she bought at a market in Vienna in 1832. She became trapped and languished in it for fifteen years. It will bring back bad memories.”

“Fine.” He stepped back and looked at the shelf again. Most of the bottles were glass, ceramic, or of some other breakable material, and the sturdier ones were, for the most part, unattractive. A replacement for Kalila’s missing travel bottle had to be superlative. It had to be strong, roomy, and, if Ricky was any judge of the djinn’s tastes, gaudy. If it didn’t dazzle to blind the beholder and eclipse the sun, she wasn’t interested.

“Are you sure you can’t track her bottle somehow? Or conjure a new one? What’s the point of you being a fairy if you can’t do things like that?” Ricky said.

Nevin gave him a baleful look. “Just because immortals have different abilities doesn’t mean we aren’t subject to rules of our own.” He returned to pondering their choices. “A magically conjured bottle wouldn't suit. Trust me.”

Ricky took out his BlackBerry. “There are five more antique shops within a three block radius.”

“Oh, good.” Nevin brightened. “Perhaps we’ll find something before tonight’s gig, after all.”

“I hope so,” Ricky said, pocketing the BlackBerry and heading toward the door. “Because when she finds out we lost her travel bottle, she’s going to be pissed.”

“Another djinn temper tantrum,” Nevin sighed.

“Yes,” Ricky said, remembering the last one with a shudder. “We’ll find something before tonight. Even if I have to figure out how to make one myself.”

Maelstrom Extra: Design Matters

2009-09-16T00:53:00.009-05:00

Ricky picked up a shirt, shook out the wrinkles and held it out in front of him. “Not bad.” He looked over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

With a sigh, Kalila got up out of her chair and came closer. “I think the guys are going to freak.”

“Do you like one of the other designs better?”

She scanned the sample shirts with narrowed eyes. “The one at the end.”

Ricky shook his head. “That one is fine for regular gigs, but…”

“Yeah, I know. Charity.” She threw herself back into her chair and folded her arms. “I trust your judgment. Whatever you choose will be fine.”

Something about Kalila’s words rang hollow, but if she said the choice was his, then he would decide. He examined again the shirt he liked best: thick, good-quality cotton, the band name featured prominently, and in a design move that was sure to set Vic’s fangs on edge, an array of dogs, cats and bunnies posing with electric guitars. It was a little cutesy, but it was for a pet charity event. Dark and edgy just wouldn’t do.

“We’ll go with this one.” He turned to Kalila for a reaction, but she was gazing into the distance, as if her thoughts had begun to drift. “Kalila?”

She looked up and blinked.

“Last chance to say no.”

“Are you kidding?” She grinned. “I’m already envisioning Vic and Lazaro’s hysterics. And trying to get the werewolves into those shirts ought to be pretty entertaining, too. You’re brave, for a human.”

“Yeah.” Ricky knew these shirts would sell, but sometimes there were other priorities. He returned his attention to the samples and picked up the simple logo-only shirt. Maybe it would do, after all.

Maelstrom Extra: The Invitation

2009-09-09T22:18:00.006-05:00

Late, as usual, for the band meeting, Bo stretched out his long legs and leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to have to cancel on tomorrow’s gig,” he said. “Something else came up.”

Ricky stared in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Bo smiled that same lazy incubus grin that he used to disarm the ladies. “Sinister Posse is in town. You know that, right? They’re playing the Arena, and there’s going to be a big party at their hotel after.”

“And you got us invited?” Kalila clapped her hands. “This will be great.”

Bo gave a smug little smirk. “They only invited me, djinna. The rest of you will have to find your own entertainment for the night.”

While the others protested, Ricky waved a hand for silence. “Look, I’m glad you’re making friends with people in big-name bands, and I doubt you can create any trouble for Sinister Posse that they wouldn’t get up to on their own—”

“Don’t bet on it,” Bo said, still with that maddening grin.

“—but your gig at the Ampersand will be over in plenty of time to get to the party. And even if it wasn’t, you’ve been booked for two months. You don’t cancel over things like this. It’s not the human way.”

Bo sat up. “Maybe I’m tired of doing things the human way, ever think of that? Be on time, follow the set list, don’t engage in carnal acts with venue and hotel staff…I joined this band for the good times, not to follow a bunch of silly rules.”

Ricky was about to answer, but Kalila cut him off. “Let me handle this. Go in the other room and wait while I remind Bo about his contract terms.”

Reluctantly, Ricky left the room, shutting the door behind him. As he leaned against the wall, listening to the sounds of mayhem that followed, he wondered how Bo had managed to ingratiate himself with Sinister Posse. The shouts and muffled booms and thumps continued. Bo would be contrite at the end of all this, that was for sure. And maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to get an invitation for all of them.

Maelstrom Extra: Sentimental Notion

2009-09-02T22:29:00.008-05:00

Overcast afternoon, threat of rain in the air. In the doorway, the man sits picking out a tune, guitar case at his feet, along with a few crumpled bills.

Kalila tugs on Ricky’s sleeve and stops, entranced by the music and the luster of polished rosewood. “That’s a fancy guitar for a man who has no home.”

“Economy,” Ricky says.

“It must be the most precious thing he ever owned. The last thing he’ll give up.” She nods in sympathy. “Give him some money.”

“I don’t have any.”

While Kalila ponders, the man looks at her, and with a gleam in his eye, plays a tricky chord progression overlaid with a melody that tests the waters of sadness, skirting the edge of melancholy.

Kalila sighs with pleasure and leans into Ricky’s arms. When the little show is over, she reaches in his pocket and removes a wad of bills that hadn’t been there before. She drops it in the case, then pulls Ricky back onto the sidewalk and resumes walking.

“Where did you get that?” he asks.

“Same place your government does. Nowhere at all.”

“It won’t help in the long run.”

“But it’s another day he won’t have to pawn that guitar.”

The sky darkens with the approaching storm, and under the sodium glare of a streetlight, Ricky takes her hand. “For a djinn, you have some sentimental notions.”

Kalila tips her head back and breathes deeply of the electrically charged air. “Just let it be our secret, okay?”

Maelstrom Extra: A Little Peace and Quiet

2009-08-26T22:13:00.008-05:00

The thumping bass intruded on Ricky’s thoughts as he huddled over the laptop, peering into the screen. He willed himself to concentrate. There was something odd about the indemnity clause; something critical he needed to understand.

The pounding died away, but only for a moment before returning with a force that sent tremors through the floor and rattled the pictures on the wall.

He got to his feet and roused Kalila out of her lamp. When she was standing before him, sleepy and still wispy with smoke, he explained the problem.

She yawned. “I don’t see why it’s an issue. You spend nearly every night listening to louder noise than that. And you like it, too.”

“Not when I’m trying to get some work done,” he said. “I need to think, and it seems like no matter how many times I ask that guy to quiet down over there, he ignores me.”

“So tell the landlord.”

“I tried. You can hear for yourself how effective that was.” By now the glass was trembling in the window frames and a faint fracture line Ricky didn’t remember seeing before had appeared in the molding near the ceiling.

Kalila sighed. “Okay. So what exactly do you want me to do? I suppose I could incinerate him.”

“Nothing too illegal, please.”

“Power outage?”

“Can you do it without cutting off mine, too?”

“Probably not. The wiring in this place is very substandard. You’re lucky there hasn’t been a fire yet.”

“Thanks for the reassurance.”

“You’re welcome.” She paced the floor, pondering. “So how about I vanish his stereo? Or maybe just his speakers?”

“That would do it,” Ricky admitted, “But don’t you think that would be a little obvious?”

Kalila looked at him in exasperation. “Why did you ask my help if you aren’t going to like any of my ideas? You should learn not to be so picky.”

“But—”

She silenced him and gestured toward a small object on the desk that hadn’t been there before. “That should solve your problem. Now go away and quit being a pest.”

While Kalila poured herself back into her lamp, Ricky walked over to the desk and examined the item she had conjured. It was a library card. He pocketed it with a sigh and began shutting down his laptop. Like most of her solutions, this wasn’t quite what he wanted, but for now, it would do.

Maelstrom Extra: A More Graceful Decay

2009-08-19T22:29:00.012-05:00

Kalila put her hands on her hips and glared. “What kind of wretched place have you booked us into this time?”

“It looked better on the website,” Ricky admitted. The 1872 mansion, now turned nightclub, exuded an air of graceful decay, from its weathered bricks to its rotting gingerbread trim. “It’s supposedly the most popular live music venue in town.”

“And not much of a town, either,” Kalila sniffed. She walked up the steps and put her face to a window, trying to peer inside. “I bet the acoustics suck.”

Ricky pulled her away, lest she set off a burglar alarm by mistake. “Well, we’re here, you’re booked, and if you hate it, we don’t ever have to come back.”

“I’ll say.” She tipped back her head and gazed up into the rafters. “There’s probably bats here. I’m sure Vic will like that.” As if on cue, a riot of small brown bodies and flapping leather wings burst from under the eaves and tittered into the sky in a confused and milling mass.

Ricky stared after them. “Bats don’t fly in daytime. Kalila…?”

She tossed her russet hair over her shoulder and laughed. “It’s okay, Ricky. We’ll find ways to make this fun.”

“I don’t know if I want you making it fun, other than by putting on a good show.”

Kalila sat down on the steps, conjured a blue flame in the palm of her hand, then abruptly snuffed it out. “You know, one of the problems with you is that you’re all business.”

“That’s what you hired me for.”

“But not so you could be boring all the time.” A rubber ball appeared in her hands and she tossed it to him. “I saw a park on the way over. We don’t have to set up for another two hours, so let’s—”

“No.” Ricky caught the ball and held it gingerly, not sure what to make of it. “I have calls to return, bookings to finalize, and we need to round up your disreputable fellow band members. I don’t have time for games.”

Kalila stood up with an attitude of weary patience. “Fine.” She waved a hand and the ball became a bird that struggled from Ricky’s grasp and soared into the air. “But just remember something, human. One day you’ll be old and your life will be reduced to eating warm Jello, watching TV reruns, and complaining about your arthritis. You’ll regret not enjoying these moments.”

Ricky watched the conjured bird disappear into the daytime sky, untrammeled by the narrow asphalted pathways of human life on earth. With a sigh, he reached for Kalila’s hand. “You’re probably right.”

Maelstrom Extra: Uploaded

2009-08-12T22:00:00.001-05:00

“What the—” Ricky punched a few keys and cursed.

Kalila came and peered over his shoulder. “What seems to be the trouble, human?”

Ricky rebooted the computer, sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “I swear this video is jinxed.” The login screen came up and he typed in his password. “Every time I try to upload it to your website, the computer locks.”

“Oh.” She pursed her lips in bored impatience while startup windows flashed across the screen. “Skip it. It’s not that important.”

“Are you kidding?” He spun his chair around and looked at her. “This is your best quality video yet. You know how hard it is to capture images of you guys.”

“Not my fault the lead singer is a vampire.”

Ricky turned back around and opened the web browser. “Of course it’s your fault. You hired him.”

“Well, what I mean is…what are you doing?”

“Trying again.”

“Why?”

“I’m just stupid that way.”

Kalila failed to pick up on the sarcasm in his voice. “I’ll say. But you know what?” She spun his chair back around so he was facing her. “I like you anyway. Human faults and all.”

“Thanks, but that doesn’t—”

She climbed into his lap, straddling him. “Doesn’t what?”

Her touch was electric and her lips on his sent fire through his body. He wrapped his arms around her as she ground her hips into his. The video could wait. “I guess it doesn’t matter all that much.”

Maelstrom Extra: Unscheduled

2009-08-05T22:29:00.014-05:00

“No way,” Vic said. “He’ll never go for it.”

Bo frowned and tapped the tabletop with his fingers. “Sure he will. We’ve just got to pitch it right.”

“I’m telling you, Ricky will never in a million years try and book us a gig at the porn star convention.”

“Sure he will. We just need to accentuate the publicity benefits.” Bo reached for a notepad and pen. “For starters, we’ll be making new fans who know how to work the media. They have lots of money and like to party.”

Vic picked up the newspaper and read the article again. “Ricky will say we just want to glamour an easy meal.”

“So what if we do? It's an added benefit.”

“I like the idea,” Vic said, tossing the paper back onto the table, “But that kind of gig isn’t Ricky’s style. He’d rather book us for some wretched charity concert that’ll improve our karma.”

With a sigh, Bo conceded he had a point. “The human is kind of a prude in that regard.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Call them on our own and see if we can sell them on the idea without Ricky’s help?”

“Yeah, we could. Then again…”

Their eyes met, and Bo nodded understanding. “Agreed. It sounds too much like work.”

“What’s the date again?”

Bo reached for the newspaper. “Seventeenth and eighteenth.”

“They’ve probably already lined up their entertainment months ago.”

“But we’re not playing anywhere those nights.”

Bo flashed a wicked grin. “Crash the party?”

“Oh, hell, yes.” Vic stood up and smiled, flashing a bit of fang. “This might end up being the best gig we never booked.”

Maelstrom Extra: A Game of Scrabble

2009-07-29T22:46:00.011-05:00

Ricky knocked on the door and waited while the door opened of its own accord. Darkness. At the back of the room, a faint glow illuminated Kalila and Nevin at a table, hunched over something he couldn’t make out while Vic looked on.

“Ebazimt,” Kalila said. She selected the appropriate tiles and placed them on the board.

Vic wrote something on a piece of paper. “Two thousand and fifty-three points.”

“I object,” Nevin said. “Ebazim has two Zs.”

Ricky crossed the room while Kalila peered at the board in concern. “You’re right.” She waved a hand and a second Z appeared.

Vic gave a little nod of approval. “Three thousand and twelve points.”

“What the hell?” Ricky examined the board. It looked an ordinary Scrabble game, except that the words were ones he had never seen before. “Uptuu?”

“That was mine, Nevin said. “Quintuple word score.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“There is when we say there is. Placidly, he laid down his tiles, displacing three of Kalila’s in the process. “Bsaugxe.”

“You can’t move her tiles,” Ricky said. “That’s against the rules.”

Vic looked up from calculating Nevin’s score. “Rules are for mortals, although I realize it’s your human lack of imagination that makes you think otherwise.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Ricky said, as Kalila vanished one of Nevin’s tiles, changed the color of the board squares, and spelled the word, “Ghrtt.”

“Is that even a language?” Ricky asked, but she ignored him.

“What’s the score now?”

“You’re at two million, six hundred fifty-three thousand, eight hundred and fourteen,” Vic told her. “Nevin is at two million, nine hundred thousand and forty-one.”

“Damn.” She grabbed some new letters and pondered them while Nevin giggled and spelled “Szbeharr.” For good measure, he changed the numbers on Kalila’s tiles so that they all read zero.

Ricky opened his mouth to protest, but Kalila slapped him on the hand. “Will you just let us play our way? Everything doesn’t have to work by human rules, you know.”

He looked from her impassive face to the others and felt his sense of outrage weaken. What did it matter, really, if they spelled words like “eidhthrgt,” vanished each others’ tiles, and added 10,000-point bonus squares to the board? At least they weren’t up to any mayhem, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. He glanced at his watch. “Just remember you’ve got a gig tonight and you need to be on time.”

“Of course, Ricky.” Kalila dismissed him with a wave of her hand and bent back over her letters, frowning.

As he left the room, Vic called after him, “Next time, don’t be such a vundrandvl!” Ricky kept walking. He didn’t want to know what that meant, and he had a feeling it didn't mean anything at all.

Maelstrom Extra: Demon-Sitting

2009-07-22T23:36:00.000-05:00

Ricky sat at one of the lounge tables, his BlackBerry cradled in his hand as he fielded messages. He wouldn’t have bothered attending setup and rehearsal except that Vic was being surly, Bo was jonesing for an easy lay, and Kalila thought herself too good for this seedy venue perched atop an unfashionable hotel. Someone had to keep watch over them and remind them to do their job, or they’d wander off to do whatever demons did, and to hell with their contract.

He watched Lazaro adjust the angle of his snare and set the pedal for his hi-hat. So far, so good. Ricky huddled over his BlackBerry. Two new messages, and one was from a reporter friend he had contacted earlier in the day. Maybe things would get better, after all.

“Hey, primate!”

Ricky raised an eyebrow. “I have a name, Vic.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t we all? We’re out of electrical tape.”

“Supplies aren’t my responsibility.” He got up and approached the stage. “Can’t you make do with duct tape or something? It doesn’t have to be perfect for rehearsal.”

“If I said we need it, we need it.”

Bo quit adjusting knobs on his amp and grinned. “Maybe the manager has some. Want me go ask?”

Before Ricky could veto this suggestion, Kalila shook her head. “Forget it, sleazy.”

“You’d only use it for bondage games,” Vic added. “And then I’d never get any.”

“You’ll never get any, anyway, if Ricky doesn’t do something.” Bo gave Ricky a pointed look.

“I don’t understand why the urgency.” Ricky found the offending cord. It was nicked, but not enough to warrant shutting down rehearsal until they got tape. “You’re overreacting.”

Kalila folded her arms. “Just get us some more. There’s a place down the block from here. Surely you have a dollar.”

“It’s not the money, it’s—” he looked from one impassive face to the other. “Fine. I’ll go get the stupid tape. But while I’m gone, you guys better quit making excuses and start rehearsing.”

Ricky stomped across the club and out the door, cursing demons and their diva behavior. He was standing impatiently at the elevator, waiting for a car, when he remembered he had forgotten his BlackBerry. He went back into the club, grumbling, but paused just inside the door.

“…like we’re children that have to be watched.”

“That’s humans for you. Always thinking they’re the superior species.”

“Well, at least we’ve got…what, twenty minutes?”

Ricky edged back to the door and slipped out. At the elevator, he punched the call button and waited. He’d get the tape of course. But maybe while he was out, he’d get a cup of coffee, too, and perhaps a newspaper. After all, it was a pretty day and there was really no big rush.

Maelstrom Extra: Rainy Afternoon

2009-07-16T00:17:00.003-05:00

The hypnotic hum of the wheels and the patter of rain on the window echoed in the sound of tapping keys on Ricky’s laptop as the gray skies, empty landscape, and screen of soporific contracts lulled him into drowsiness.

From the lounge at the back of the bus, breaking the peaceful spell, came the moans and dirty sex talk of Bo’s latest video.

“You mind turning that down?” Ricky said.

“Why? Is it a problem?”

“I need to make a few calls and I don’t want it to sound like I’m at a bordello.”

Bo hit the mute button. “Nothing wrong with a bordello.” He folded his arms, leaned back against the sofa cushions and sulked.

Ricky edged against the window and put the BlackBerry to his ear.

The tires sizzled on wet pavement, the rain beat harder against the glass, and from a tiny leak in the window seal, an occasional drip splashed onto the sill. With any luck, Bo wouldn’t figure out he wasn’t calling anyone until they got to town.

He balled up someone’s discarded jacket for a pillow and, soothed by the peaceful sounds of a rainy afternoon on the road, settled in for a nap.

Maelstrom Extra: Late Night Errand

2009-07-08T23:47:00.005-05:00

Vic wrapped his leather coat tight against his body and kept to the shadows, not because he needed to but because he found the gloom satisfying. There weren’t many people out at this late hour and he eyed the few he encountered critically, getting a good sniff as he passed them on the pavement. No one appealed, though, and he wasn’t really hungry. For all Ricky’s complaints about his transparent motives, this nighttime mission was, for once, not about food.

He found the door, passed a hand over the lock and slipped inside, ignoring the alarm. It took only a moment to find the display, and he had to kneel to unlock the storage cabinet, but at last he had the item in his hands. He could’ve bought it, but human money was so worthless, what was the point? Besides, human stores weren’t open at convenient times for a vampire.

Vic tucked the box under his coat and slipped outside, with the alarms ringing a clarion as he went back into the night. He, of course, had no use for a pocket-sized DMB television with MP3, JPEG and video capability, but sometimes one had to make sacrifices. He ducked into the shadows as a cop car screamed past, then pulled the box closer and continued walking.

It crossed his mind that maybe he should stop for wrapping paper, but he dismissed the thought as frivolous. There were limits, after all. He chuckled to himself, thinking how surprised the human would be, and murmured to himself, “Happy Birthday, Ricky.”

Maelstrom Extra: Taken by Storm

2009-07-01T23:45:00.008-05:00

The wind howled and the rain beat in sheets against the window. Ricky tried to see outside. “What do you mean she’s on the scaffold?”

“She was hungry," Nevin said with a little shrug. "Djinns feed on the wind. You know that.”

“But that thing looked ready to collapse.” He headed for the door, no time to grab a jacket.

Nevin tagged after him. “It’s sweet of you to worry, but you need to trust her. She’s much older than you, you know.”

Ricky did know, but this was no time for logic. He made for the elevator, then remembered it was slow and sprinted for the stairwell instead. He took the stairs as fast as he could, stumbling and holding onto the handrail.

Nevin kept pace easily. “This really isn’t necessary. You’re going to get hurt.”

Ricky shoved open the heavy door and ran toward where he had seen the workers earlier in the day. The rain soaked his clothes and chilled his body but the only thing that mattered was the rickety structure ahead and Kalila’s faint silhouette, barely visible in the pounding rain. He stopped at the base of the trembling structure and shouted up at her. “Kalila!”

The scaffold swayed, whether from the wind or the shift in Kalila’s weight as she made to climb down, Ricky didn’t know. He waited, drenched and shivering, yearning that she were just a little more normal, just a bit more like a human girlfriend.

But then she was on the ground before him, her hair streaming and her eyes alight. He no longer noticed the needles of rain pelting his skin or the way his shirt and jeans hung cold and sopping off his limbs. Kalila was fire in the rain, heat in the cold, and even in a moment like this as the scaffold gave a shudder and broke up behind her, Ricky noticed nothing but the way her scraps of clothing clung to her wet skin.

“Did you want something?” she asked.

Ricky shivered and it wasn’t from the storm outside but the one within. “Dinner is over,” he said. “How about you come inside?”

Maelstrom Extra: Fickle Djinn

2009-06-25T00:13:00.004-05:00

Kalila smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in her skirt. “I’ve changed my mind.”

Ricky didn’t take his eyes off the road. “About what?”

“The photo shoot.” She flipped down the visor and scowled at her reflection in the vanity mirror. “I don’t like this outfit.”

Ricky darted a glance her way, then returned to monitoring the traffic. The exit was easy to miss and they were running late. “You look fine.”

Kalila leaned back in her seat and pouted. “I should’ve worn something darker, something with less sparkle.”

“Well, it’s too late now.” He checked the lane next to him and moved over. “I had to call in a lot of favors to get you this opportunity, so I can’t reschedule. Besides,” he slowed down as he eased the Lexus off the freeway and onto the access road. “You asked me to buy you that outfit. You said it would be perfect.”

“I changed my mind.”

“So unchange it.” Ricky set his jaw and fixed his eyes on the cars ahead of him as if by ignoring her, he could forget he had a fickle djinn in the passenger seat. As they passed a series of small boutiques, though, she grabbed his arm and pointed.

“Over there. It’ll only take a minute.”

Ricky shook off her grip. “No. Now will you please quit the diva behavior? You look terrific. You always do.”

When they got to the studio, Kalila stalked into the building without so much as glancing his way, and ducked into the first ladies’ room she could find. Ricky waited outside the door, glancing at his watch and pacing. They were late. Her hair looked fine. Djinns didn’t need to use the restroom. What was she doing in there for so long?

Finally she stepped out, resplendent in black leather and red coral. “What do you think?”

“I think if you were going to conjure a new outfit anyway, you could’ve left off harassing me about it.”

“But the car trip was so boring. I had to do something to pass the time.” She slipped her hand into his. “Now come on. Let’s go see that photographer.”

Maelstrom Extra: Streetside Seduction

2009-06-18T00:08:00.008-05:00

The woman’s shrieks drew passers-by. “Him,” she screeched, pointing at the blond man who watched her in bewilderment. “That degenerate exposed himself to me. Call the cops!”

Bo smiled at being called a degenerate and leaned against a wall.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she told him.

“So should you,” Bo said. “You need to loosen up, have a little fun.”

While the woman sputtered in indignation, a policeman ambled onto the scene. He looked at the frantic, gray-haired woman, then at grinning incubus absently drumming a rhythmic staccato on the wall with his fingertips. The cop hesitated, taken in by Bo’s expansive smile, then adopted a concerned expression.

“What seems to be the trouble, ma’am?”

In outraged tones, the woman explained that as she was walking down the sidewalk, Bo not only propositioned her, but dropped his pants.

The policeman looked at Bo “Is what the lady says correct?”

Bo gave a little shrug. “I offered her a good time. I wanted to bolster my case by showing her the evidence.”

“He’s a wicked pervert and should be thrown in jail,” the woman said.

Her words fell on deaf ears as the policeman was entranced once again Bo’s innocent eyes and boyish smile. “As long as there was no threat…” he said hesitantly.

“Absolutely not.”

“All in good fun?”

Bo’s grin broadened and he hooked a thumb in the waistband of his jeans. “Want to check it out for yourself? I know a motel where they don’t ask questions.”

Thoroughly under Bo’s spell, the cop nodded, then gave the woman a perfunctory “Have a nice day.”

As they strolled off down the street, the woman screamed after them, “Why aren’t you arresting him?”

“Because he meant no harm,” the cop called back. “Honestly, lady, you need to lighten up a little. Life's too short.”

Maelstrom Extra: By the Lake

2009-06-11T06:47:00.002-05:00

Gravel crunched under the wheels of the rented Jeep as Ricky pulled into the driveway. “Well, here it is.”

Kalila cast a skeptical glance at the gray clapboard cottage. “This isn’t what I expected.”

“Is anything?” he cut the engine and reached in the back for his overnight bag. “I’ll show you the house, and then we’ll go down to the lake. Uncle Robert said the canoe is in good repair.”

Kalila followed Ricky inside, looking all around and clutching her lamp to her chest. She let him lead her from room to room, and finally selected a spot near an upstairs window where she set her brass oil lamp on a table. “This is where I’ll sleep.”

“I was planning on sleeping in the other room.”

“You can still do that.”

“Right.” He didn't ask whether she’d join him in bed for awhile or just what her intentions were. Djinns didn't like a lot of questions. “Wait here. I want to get something out of my bag and then I’ll show you the lake.”

While she waited, Kalila examined the family photos on the walls, and when Ricky emerged from the other room, she followed him down the stairs.

Outside, a narrow path wound its way from the back porch through the trees, to a dock that listed to one side. “I’m sure it’s not dangerous,” Ricky said, but Kalila had already drawn the same conclusion. She walked to the end of the rickety dock and stood for a moment, looking out over the dark water.

“I’d hardly call this a lake,” she finally said. “More like a large pond.”

“I never said it was much.” He came to join her. “It was the time I spent here with my dad that made it special. It was nice of Uncle Robert to buy it from my mom. The money came in handy. But I would’ve liked to have gotten the place for myself.”

“Family.” Kalila nodded. “It means a lot to you humans. I noticed the pictures on the walls.”

Ricky shoved his hands in his pockets and stared out over the water for a few minutes. Finally he became restless and said, “Want to take the boat out?”

“Not particularly.”

“But I…well, look.” he took a small box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside was a small wooden fish, red with a glitter tail and a hook sticking out of its belly. “One of the lures my dad made,” he explained. “I’ve had it as a keepsake all these years, but I think it belongs here.” He pointed across the water. “Somewhere out in the middle of the lake he loved to fish at.”

“So coming here is sort of a pilgrimage for you.”

“And a chance to spend some time alone with you, away from all the distractions that clutter up our lives. That’s why people come to places like this, to focus on the things that really matter.”

“I see.” Kalila looked out over the water again, her eyes narrowed in thought. “So you wouldn’t have brought just anyone.”

“No. This place is special.”

They stood together for several minutes, watching the reflection of sun and cloud on the glassy surface of the lake. A hawk flew overhead, the wind sighed in the pines, and water burbled and lapped at the dock. Finally Kalila asked to see the fishing lure again, and she took it from Ricky’s hands and examined it in the afternoon light. Then she handed it back. “I think I understand now,” she said. “Let’s go get that boat.”

Tour: Home!

2009-06-04T12:01:00.000-05:00

Home

After yesterday, I hope it’s obvious to everyone why we don’t let Lazaro post.

The El Paso gig was fantastic! Not only did we draw the local crowd, but we had some of our Las Cruces fans follow us over, and we had some from Juarez, too. Just to see us!

We packed the club and the fire marshal had to come out twice! Bo seduced him the first time, and we thought that would be an end to it, but we knew stronger measures were needed when he came around the second time. Ricky says let’s just hope no one finds the body.

After the gig, we went to Juarez and partied until sunrise.

What a crazy place! If they have any laws, we sure weren’t aware of them. Bo, Vic, and Lazaro were like kids in a candy store. I told them afterwards that maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on humans, since it’s obvious that some human societies have more silly rules than others, and some places are actually quite friendly to our lifestyle. They just burped and went to sleep. That’s males for you.

Ricky was very distressed about our foray into Mexico, but I made it up to him when we returned. Maybe when all this is over I’ll send Ricky on a nice vacation someplace. Then again, he’d probably spend all his time just worrying about what we were up to, so it’s probably best we all stick together.

We’ve got a gig tonight and I need to go get ready, but the tour is essentially over. We had a great time, met lots of cool humans and other creatures, saw new places, and sampled new cuisine. It was a lot of fun and I can hardly wait for Ricky to book the next one!

You’ll be doing that soon, Ricky, won’t you?

Ricky?

Damn, where did he go?

Tour: Day Twelve

2009-06-03T12:01:00.000-05:00

Fort Stockton, Texas

Stupid band won’t let me post all tour! I hate them.

El Paso gig was good.

Fort Stockton sucks.

Tour: Day Eleven

2009-06-02T12:01:00.000-05:00

El Paso, Texas

The tour is almost over, and a good thing because I’m at about the end of my rope. That breakdown south of Albuquerque was a disaster, but at least I was able to salvage something for us in Las Cruces.

We had a small incident soon after our arrival, with Vic insisting we go to Carlsbad after the gig and Nevin arguing with him about whether or not bats were “nice” animals. It got ugly and Nevin disappeared in a huff. I found him at the Natural History museum and persuaded him to return. It wasn’t too hard to do, since the museum featured desert wildlife, including snakes and lizards. Nevin is more into birds and bunnies than reptiles.

Last night’s gig went off well, even though it was a Monday. I used Twitter and Facebook to get the word out to the New Mexico State students and they came out and had a great time. To the best of my knowledge, no one is missing or anemic after last night, so I figure it was a success.

Our gig tonight is in El Paso.

It was just a short drive from Las Cruces, so I slept in this morning. Nevin and Kalila had waffles, coffee, and strawberries waiting for me when I woke up, and were very nice to me. Makes me wonder if there are things going on I don’t know about. I sure hope not.

Tour: Day Ten

2009-06-01T12:01:00.000-05:00

Las Cruces, New Mexico

Well, we finally got out of that miserable hell-town. Kalila did something to the mechanic to make him think it was Monday, and he had the bus ready by the end of the day. Ricky thought it was too late to get on the road, but we were ready to get out of there, so we loaded up and started south.

Once the sun went down, it was a nice drive. I sat and looked out the window for a long time, enjoying how nice and dead everything looks out here in the desert.

Toward morning, we reached Las Cruces. I woke Ricky up so he could tell Calvin where we were going, then I went to bed.

Ricky was able to get us a make-up gig for tonight. It won’t be as good as the Saturday we missed, but it’s better than nothing, and Ricky thinks he can get us a good turnout from the local university. He’s doing something on the computer to let them know about tonight’s gig. He says maybe the news will “go viral,” whatever that means. I just hope it doesn’t mean weird germs in my meals. Some viruses have a funny taste to them.

I’ve heard there are some big caves not too far from here, and they’re full of bats. I suggested a pilgrimage, but Ricky thinks we don’t have time. Humans are so particular about such things. Makes you wonder about their priorities.

Tour: Day Nine

2009-05-31T12:01:00.000-05:00

Still Stranded, New Mexico

Can you believe it? The mechanic won’t work on our bus today! Apparently his god thinks some days are better than others, and Sundays aren’t for working. He’s the only mechanic in this miserable village, and Ricky says even if there were other mechanics, they wouldn’t be working either.

Just look at this place!

Humans are a very strange species. How can they live like this?

Ricky is mad. He says cancelling gigs is bad for our publicity, and what Bo is getting up to with some of the rural livestock is even worse. Vic has taken to hanging around the local cemetery, our werewolf Calvin has been seen going native with a pack of local coyotes, and Nevin just sits around looking at all the dust and sighing a lot. None of us is quite sure what Lazaro has been doing, but there are rumors, and they aren’t pretty.

I’m fed up with this situation. I’ve requested a meeting with my legal counsel to see if there’s a loophole to the “no magic” part of the contract. I know I can’t repair the bus by magic, but can I inspire the human mechanic to get off his butt and fix it? This is an important question and I intend to get an answer before this morning is over.

Tour: Day Eight

2009-05-30T12:01:00.000-05:00

Stranded in New Mexico

I’m afraid we’ve encountered a new difficulty.

We’re stranded south of Albuquerque. The tour bus broke down and the “no magic” rule means none of us can fix it. We were able to get it towed to a small town nearby, but we’re really in quite a desolate place and we won’t be able to make our gig in Las Cruces tonight.

Ricky is very upset, and in fact the whole band is angry, but I’m not sure being negative is going to help matters. We’ll just have to hope the nice man at the auto shop can repair the bus quickly.

This has all been good for Bo, since everyone is too busy being worried about the tour bus to continue being angry at him for his party at the tramway last night. I’m not sure of the details, but it would appear that he and some of his new friends rode up and down the mountain several times, even though the tram was closed. They were caught by a security guard, who accused them of stealing the car and was mad that they had no clothes on. Bo pointed out that they hadn’t stolen the tram car because there it was, right where it was supposed to be, attached to the cable that runs up the mountain. The security guard called him a smart-ass and Bo agreed. Then Bo turned on that incubus charm of his and…well, an hour later another security guard came along and was quite surprised to find the first one with no clothes on, riding up and down the mountain with all the others.

Ricky says it’s a public relations disaster. Bo disagrees, and I’m not sure what to think.

I just want our tour bus fixed.

Tour: Day Seven

2009-05-29T12:01:00.000-05:00

Albuquerque, New Mexico

Wow, so much drama these last few days over a little pool party! With everyone so pissy about it, I kept things a little quieter last night—just two girls after the show and none between sets. Ricky was so reassured that he didn’t even notice I managed to get a quick breakfast romp with one of the hotel maids. I’ve been told that they’re off limits, but I’m sure that’s just another of Ricky’s pruderies. I don’t know what Kalila sees in him, except that she’s a bit of a prude herself, so I guess it all works out.

So we’ve got another gig here tonight and I’m pretty excited. One of my girls from last night works for the tram and she says she can get us up there after hours. I wonder how many of us can get into one of those little cars, and how much we can make it swing? I have a feeling it’s going to be a fun time!

Tour: Day Six

2009-05-28T12:01:00.000-05:00

Albuquerque, New Mexico

That whole mess in Pagosa Springs is in the hands of our legal counsel and she seems to think we’ll be able to get away with just paying a fine. I called a band meeting once we arrived in Albuquerque, and everyone acted like they understood what I was trying to tell them about state laws, policies of particular establishments, and the need to look out for their reputations. But I’ve told them all this before, and each time they seem to interpret the whole message as me telling them to be on time for gigs.

So anyway, here we are in Albuquerque, and I’m just hoping things go smoothly tonight.

Tour: Day Five

2009-05-27T12:01:00.000-05:00

On the Road

Never trust an incubus! After that wild party Bo had in the hot springs, Ricky had to get us out of Pagosa Springs fast. He got us onto the tour bus, then talked on the phone with our lawyer for half the morning while Calvin drove us toward the state line.

I could hardly sleep at all between Ricky's talks with the lawyer and his breaks to yell at Kalila. Of course, she was in her travel bottle and ignored him. It would’ve been pretty funny to watch Ricky yell at a bottle if I wasn’t so damn tired.

Now Ricky is on the computer reading the Colorado state legal code, so maybe I’ll be able to get some sleep. Lazaro and Bo are already in their bunks, and I’ve asked Calvin to keep an eye out for a clinic or bloodmobile so I can get a meal. I’m not very hungry right now, though. Not all the humans at the resort were at Bo’s party last night, and I took advantage of that fact.

Ricky should learn to be more appreciative. We don’t have a gig tonight, so we can hide out wherever our lawyer thinks it’s safe, and with Bo napping, Ricky can read about the laws of Colorado without being distracted by those stupid movies.

Tour: Day Four

2009-05-26T12:01:00.000-05:00

Pagosa Springs, Colorado

We had quite a drive today, all the way to Pagosa Springs, Colorado. But it was such lovely country that it was hard to complain. I immediately fell in love with this little town, with its green hills and hot springs, surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Could anything be more beautiful?

Bo wanted to check out the hot springs right away, but we were running late and Ricky said no. So we went to the venue and took a look around. Ricky kept a very close watch on Bo so he wouldn’t seduce the manager like he did in Santa Fe. Bo was upset about this, but said nothing. I could tell he was plotting, but Ricky didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Typical human behavior, I’m afraid. I’ve never met a human who wanted to know the truth if there’s a delusion they’ll like better.

Next we got checked in at the resort on the river.

Ricky made us all promise to be on our best behavior. We did very well before the show, but after we returned, Bo hosted a big party down in the hot springs. He wasn’t supposed to do that, I think. I’m also quite certain the rules say humans must wear clothes.

Ricky was very upset.

Tour: Day Three

2009-05-25T12:01:00.000-05:00

Santa Fe, New Mexico

We arrived in Santa Fe several hours ahead of our setup time. Since it was a nice, windy day, giving me lots of energy, I made Ricky take me to see the sights.

For starters, Santa Fe isn’t really that old, only four hundred years. Second, there sure are a lot of churches! It’s a good thing Vic is nocturnal and couldn’t go with us because he would’ve had a meltdown. We saw a church with a labyrinth out front and another that had a spiral staircase supposedly held up by a miracle.

I told Ricky it’s not a miracle and I offered to explain the magic behind it, but he got weird and said some things should remain mysteries. That’s humans for you!

I had a great time shopping on the plaza, especially at the leather and jewelry shops. I felt a little bad for Ricky after awhile, having to carry all those bags while I went from store to store and examined the silver and turquoise jewelry for sale on the plaza, but Calvin wasn’t with us and I sure wasn’t going to carry my own bags.

Finally we went back to the hotel, got everyone together and went to set up at the venue. While we were doing that, Bo disappeared with the manager and came back half an hour later much happier. The manager was happier too and gave us a round of drinks. For some reason, Ricky was annoyed about all this.

The show went great, and we all had a fine time creating our own after-hours party on the plaza.

Ricky got a little nervous when the cops came, but Nevin used his fairy magic to make them happy, and they ended up joining the fun. We danced, sang, and played music until the sun came up over the mountains and the native women arrived with their colorful blankets and hand-made jewelry to sell.

I bought a silver bracelet to remember the night by.

Tour: Day Two

2009-05-24T12:01:00.000-05:00

Roswell, New Mexico

Man, last night in San Angelo was great! We rocked, and so did those sorority girls! I don’t think they get a lot of fresh acts between spring and summer semester because those kids were wild and they kept me pretty busy between sets, as well as after the show.

Vic had some fun too, and I think Lazaro got himself a chemistry major, but it could’ve been mathematics. It was kind of hard to tell based on what was left. Ricky was pissed and Lazaro apologized for not hiding the body better. Ricky kept saying that wasn’t the point, but it was, of course. If Lazaro had done a better job cleaning up after himself, Ricky would’ve never known and we’d all be happy.

We spent the day on the road again, with Ricky on his computer, yelling at me every half hour about my movies. I told him he could join me and I even said we could act out some of my favorite scenes from Pride and Priapism, but he said no. He’s such a prude.

Tonight’s gig is in Roswell. We’re all pretty excited, hoping we’ll meet some space aliens. It’s always fun to meet a new species. I’m hoping the space girls are sexy. An incubus has his priorities.

Tour: Day One

2009-05-23T12:01:00.000-05:00

San Angelo, Texas

We hit the road early, and everyone was grumpy about it, but most of them are nocturnal and went to bed not long after we headed out. I tried to get some work done, but Bo was watching one of his porn videos and it was distracting, to say the least. When it got too bad, I went up front with Calvin so I could watch the scenery go by.

We got to San Angelo on schedule and the gig tonight is at a club that’s popular with the college crowd. It ought to be a good time for everyone but me. I’ll be doing damage control, making sure no one gets hurt. Bo, Vic, and Lazaro are hungry after a day on the road. They understand in theory why they shouldn’t feed on their fans, but when you’re immortal, or close to it, self-control isn’t a very important virtue. I mean, it’s not like someone’s going to throw a vampire in jail or something.

But they could throw me in jail. Great job I have, isn’t it?

Maelstrom Tour: Preparations

2009-05-22T00:01:00.005-05:00

I spent today packing my equipment and watching Calvin and the other werewolves load the tour bus. They’re very particular about how they do it, which is a good thing because some of the band members worry. Like Lazaro. He would rather his drums be on the bus where he can see them, but this time Kalila said no and meant it, so he had to watch everything Calvin did as he stowed them underneath. It was quite exasperating for Calvin, and Ricky had to go the store twice for hamburger meat to calm him down.

Some of our guitars. Lazaro didn't want me taking pictures of his drums.

Finally we were all packed and everyone is happy now. Ricky is the only one who seems a little nervous. He thought we should have a tour manager so he could stay home and work on our publicity. Last month he was all ready to hire one, but then Kalila reminded him what happened to the last one. (It was so unfortunate, and I do hope Thomas is found someday.) Then she took Ricky into a rehearsal room for awhile, just the two of them, and when they came out he was much happier. He’s worried again now, though. I'm sure it will all be fine, though.

We're going to have a great tour!

Maelstrom Extra: Werewolf Strike (Part Five)

2009-05-21T00:44:00.008-05:00

Ricky picked his way around the sleeping werewolves. Some were wounded, many still sported wiry tufts of hair, and all were exhausted. He felt a moment of pity as he stepped over a sweet-faced young woman with a nasty gash across her nose. She looked like the sort of girl who knitted cardigans and read stories to children at the library, but lycanthropy was treacherous, turning even the gentlest humans into killers.

This was no time for distractions, though. Ricky’s plan required efficient and unemotional action. Only one werewolf mattered, and Ricky found him lying slightly away from the pack, his guards too deeply asleep to react to the presence of a stranger. Now that he could see him up close and in human form, Ricky was startled to realize the new alpha was the man who had changed the oil in his Lexus last week.

He hesitated, then shook his shoulder. “Blake. Hey, man, wake up.”

Blake stirred and opened his eyes. “What?” He blinked at Ricky in confusion.

Ricky fumbled in his satchel and produced a document and pen. “Congratulations on becoming the new alpha. Sign here.”

Blake looked around, slowly coming to his senses. “Damn, that was some fight.”

“Yes.” Ricky shoved the paper and pen at him again, pointing to the signature line. “And if you’ll sign here, we can secure grant funding to better optimize the coordination of future full moon nights for the strategic benefit of all concerned. And you’ll get breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Blake’s nostrils quivered and he glanced at Ricky’s still-bulging bag.

Ricky edged closer so Blake could better smell what was in the satchel. “Sign and it’s all yours.” He held his breath, hoping he hadn’t miscalculated. Maelstrom’s werewolves were disoriented for hours after a full moon night, and sometimes weren’t completely right until several days later. But this was an alpha pack leader, the strongest and cleverest werewolf in the Local 666. Ricky watched him scan the document and wondered if he was in any fit state to understand or care what it said.

Blake grumbled and scrawled something across the bottom of the page. Ricky snatched it out of his hands before he could reconsider, and began backing away.

With a snarl, Blake lunged at him. “You said breakfast!”

Ricky tossed him the satchel and watched him tear it open to get at the raw meat inside. Then, while the werewolf was thus distracted, Ricky let himself out of the room, out of the building, and into the morning sun. He was standing near a tree, trying to get his bearings, when someone called out to him.

“Hey, primate!” A swaddled figure slunk toward him, trying to keep to the shadows. “How’d it go?”

After what he had just been through, Ricky found the vampire’s presence oddly comforting. “What are you doing here? You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Vic sidled up to him, hat pulled low over his face to shield it from the sun. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay. Don’t get cocky, though. It’s not because I care about you.”

Ricky suppressed a smile. “That’s good to know.” He held out the contract. “Duly signed, releasing Calvin and our road crew from any obligation to participate in future strikes, as long as they’re satisfied with their wages and working conditions.”

“Good job, human.” Vic grinned, baring his fangs. “So I guess the tour is on?”

“You bet your unlife it is.”

NOTE: The first post of the tour will be tomorrow, May 22, and the band members will be posting daily through June 4. Add us to your blog reader and stop by often!

Maelstrom Extra: Disconnect

2009-05-17T01:30:00.002-05:00

Monday night gig in Santa Fe. Not very promising, but it was the best he could do. At least there were plenty of hotels.

“What are you doing, human?”

Ricky glanced up. “If you can’t knock, can’t you at least say hello?” He turned back to the computer and frowned. They would finish the week in northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. There was a nice little hot springs resort up there, if he could get a promise from Bo to behave himself.

“Fine. Hello.” Kalila jutted out a hip and waited, but Ricky’s grunted response didn’t satisfy.

Then head back south for—

“What’s so compelling about words and numbers on a screen?”

—a weekend in Albuquerque. They weren’t big gigs, but a small show in a big town had more publicity potential than a big show in Podunkville.

“Ricky. Are you listening to me?”

“Of course I’m listening. I’m just trying to finalize your tour itinerary. You leave in less than a week, you know.”

“We leave,” she corrected him. “You’re coming with us. Or have you forgotten what happened to our last tour manager?”

“Please don’t remind me.” He turned back to the computer and called up a map. It was a straight shot from Albuquerque to Las Cruces, but there wasn’t much along the way. Maybe—

Ricky punched a few keys, trying to unlock his frozen screen. Then he opened the network status window and cursed. He tried to re-connect, but nothing happened. “Kalila, do you think you could…oh.” Kalila was watching with a smug, catlike smile. Ricky shut down the computer and sat back in his chair. There would be no more work until the djinn had gotten what she came there for. Knowing her, she probably just needed to be noticed.

“Okay, Kalila. You win. What do you want?”

NOTE: Maelstrom will be on tour May 23 through June 4. They’ll be blogging their preparations and their tour right here starting May 22, so make sure we're on your blog reader!

Maelstrom Extra: Werewolf Strike (Part Four)

2009-05-14T00:50:00.012-05:00

Vic passed a hand over the lock and slowly turned the handle. He opened the door half an inch, then closed it again. “Remember,” he whispered, “If you get yourself killed, I’m not making you into a vampire. You’ll just have to stay dead.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Ricky said, pitching his voice low in case he had miscalculated and there were werewolves nearby. “I don’t suppose you’d reconsider?” He pointed to the cooler at his feet.

“You think I’m crazy?” Vic pulled his leather coat tight against his body. “Good luck, human. I’ll tell Kalila to make sure you get a nice funeral.”

Ricky watched him slip into the night, then turned to the task at hand. Willing himself not to be nervous, he let himself into the building and set the cooler down quietly. The vestibule was empty, and in the distance he could hear sounds of bickering and a faint metallic rattle. He had once asked Calvin how the local werewolves kept from getting caught in lupine form, but had only half-believed the answer. Tonight, he needed that information to be true.

Leaving the cooler near the door, he moved quietly down the hallway, following the sound of raised voices. A maze of halls led to a locked steel door, on the other side of which came the sound of rattling cages and voices raised in protest. Ricky glanced at his watch. They couldn’t have locked themselves up yet, could they? He dared a peek through the door’s tiny window of fortified glass and could make out long rows of cages with people moving among them. Some were already shaggy, and a few waited patiently in their cages while others argued with the union leaders.

Ricky took a step back and considered. Then he looked again, this time ignoring the werewolves and trying to get a view of the room’s ceiling. To his relief, it was a drop ceiling, at least thirty feet high, with no way to reach it from inside the room without a ladder. He hurried back to the entry, retrieved his cooler, and went upstairs.

It took nearly ten minutes of frantic searching, and Ricky had almost decided to go with his backup plan to use the air ducts when he found an entry into the ceiling over the great room below. He took the bags of meat out of the cooler and hauled them into place. Below, some of the werewolves were being locked into cages and the ones still wandering loose were becoming hairier by the minute.

Clearly the alpha was the one walking the rows, snarling orders, so Ricky selected the spot farthest away, lifted a corner of a ceiling tile and dropped a steak into the room. He followed its trajectory with his eyes as it landed beside a sullen young male. The werewolf looked at the steak in confusion, but before he could grab it, an older, hairier half-wolf grabbed it.

Two other wolves saw something going on and trotted over. Ricky set the ceiling tile back in place and listened to the ensuing squabble. He selected another steak, made sure the alpha had his back turned, and dropped it where the lower-ranking wolves would be sure to find it. The snarling and arguing grew louder as the half-changed wolves fought over the meat. Cages and order were forgotten as Ricky dropped more steaks into the room. Now the alpha realized what was going on and joined the melee, fighting the others for his share and status.

Ricky tossed two of the last three ribeyes into the room and lay on his belly, listening to the howling below, as heavy bodies heaved, bit, and knocked each other against the cages. It was quite a fight. Whoever was left standing at the end of it would not only be the leader, but very hungry. Luckily, the last steak was a juicy one. Ricky hoped it would be enough.

(To be concluded next week!)

Maelstrom Extra: Healing Magic

2009-05-10T01:16:00.007-05:00

“Can’t you do something for her?”

Kalila looked at Ricky askance. “Call an ambulance. If one gets here quick enough, she’ll live.”

Ricky looked at the prone and bleeding form on the asphalt of the studio parking lot. Her clothes were torn, her shoes were missing and a leg lay at an odd angle. “But you can heal her now.”

The scattered contents of the woman’s purse lay at Kalila’s feet and she prodded a lipstick with the toe of her boot. “It takes a lot of energy to heal a human. It’s not worth it unless the band did this, and we didn’t. She’s an ordinary hit-and-run victim.”

“No one’s ever ordinary, Kalila. I don’t know this woman either, but I’m sure she has friends and family who care about her. What if something’s wrong that the doctors can’t fix?” Ricky saw her hesitate. “Please?”

Kalila yanked off her bangles and shoved them into Ricky’s hands. “Fine. Monitor the area. Make sure I’m not disturbed.”

For several minutes Ricky paced the perimeter of the parking lot, keeping an eye out for curious pedestrians. Finally he saw a familiar figure, clothes clean and mended, purse slung over her arm. He followed her with his eyes as she crossed the street. Although she looked a bit stunned, she was whole and healthy.

“I altered her memory,” said a voice behind him.

Ricky turned around and was struck by Kalila’s ashen skin and pale lips. The healing had taken a lot out of her.

“She thinks she tripped and I happened to be nearby to make sure she was okay and help her put everything back in her purse.”

“Thank you.” Ricky wanted to say more, but he knew how Kalila hated to be caught doing good. He held out his arm. “Want to go for a walk? There’s usually a breeze at the park.”

She took his arm and they walked for several minutes in silence. Finally she said, “It was more serious than it looked.”

Ricky nodded but didn’t answer.

“She hit her head hard when she fell. Your human doctors probably couldn’t have saved her.” When Ricky didn’t answer, she stopped. “What? No ‘I told you so,’ no remarks about my service to your wretched kind?”

“No.” Ricky dug something out of his pocket. “Want these back?”

Kalila put the bracelets on and reluctantly took his arm again. As they neared the park, the wind picked up and she tipped her face toward the sky, sucking the air greedily, feeding off the restorative breeze.

Ricky waited until the color returned to her cheeks and her eyes had lost their listless cast. “Thank you.”

“I’m not Florence Nightingale.”

“I know.”

“I refuse to do that sort of thing every time you get a sentimental human notion.”

“I know that, too. But don’t you feel just a little proud that you did a good deed?”

Kalila looked away with a small jerk of her chin. “Don’t be ridiculous. Djinns don’t do good deeds.”

“Of course they don’t.” Ricky waited, then asked, “So I’m not to tell anyone?”

“Not even your own mother.” Then, with a faint smile, she started to take his hand, but reconsidered and moved in close so he could put his arm around her instead.

Maelstrom Extra: Werewolf Strike (Part Three)

2009-05-07T00:57:00.002-05:00

Ricky sat inside his Lexus, tapping the steering wheel as he considered his situation. Kalila had stuck him with a problem and he was no closer to solving it than he had been two days ago. The werewolves’ first loyalty was to the union. There wasn’t anything malign about it; it was just their nature.

Fighting nature wouldn’t get Ricky anywhere.

Alpha dogs. That was the problem. The head of the union was their pack leader, and if he told them to go on strike….

Ricky had a flash of inspiration. He grabbed his BlackBerry and looked up the union hall for the Local 666. The street was an obscure one and the directions were cryptic, but he had lived in this town all his life. He could find it.

But first, a little detour to the grocery store butcher counter.

Even an alpha dog had his price, and there was going to be a full moon tonight.

Concert: Come in Character (Finale)

2009-05-04T00:01:00.006-05:00

Kalila: Hi, everyone! I want to thank all of you for coming to see us this weekend. We hope you had a great time.

Bo: I know I did.

Kalila: Shut up, Sleazy.

Vic: Yeah, I didn't appreciate you monopolizing the Type O girls.

Bo: You know I don't care about their blood type. I see a human I like and what happens, happens.

Lazaro: What should've happened is me eating Shadow's brain because he drank when we said no.

Ricky: (Uh, guys, can we just continue with the announcements?)

Kalila: (You're no fun, Ricky.) Anyway, it was great to see all of you, especially our new friends from Come in Character and our old friends from the bunny benefit in March--

Nevin: Hi, bunnies!

Kalila: (Don't interrupt, Nevin.) We appreciate all the support you've given us, and we hope to see you around more often.

Nevin: Tell them about the tour.

Kalila: Oh, yeah. We're going on tour, May 23 through June 4. Our wonderful manager, Ricky Landon, has set us up so we can blog every day of the tour. We hope you'll sign up to follow our blog or add us to your blog reader in the next two weeks so you can keep up with all our adventures.

Ricky: Which won't be illegal, immoral, or dangerous, right, guys? Kalila? Bo? Where are you going? Vic! Lazaro!

Nevin: I'm still here, Ricky. I'll finish up for them.

Ricky: That's not the point.

Nevin: Are you sure? Thanks for a terrific weekend everyone! We love you!

Ricky: (Let's go, Nevin, before Vic hears you say that.) Folks, this weekend's show will be archived under Reviews, Concerts and Sightings, and there will be further announcements to come about the tour. I also have it under good authority that a book about us has been accepted for publication. I'll have more information about that soon. Have a safe drive home, everyone, and good night!

Maelstrom Concert: Come in Character!

2009-05-02T00:01:00.012-05:00

The show is over and we're sorry you missed it! But you can still check out all the fun we had below, enjoy the music, and sign up to be one of our groupies so you won't miss any future shows.

Here's the outside of the venue, Cabal. Intimidating, isn't it? But it's really nice on the inside and those guys are paid to look scary.

Here's the bar. We told you it was nice, didn't we?

And here's one of Cabal's busy bartenders hard at work.

Everyone had a great time dancing, mingling, and watching the show.

The after-party was at Come in Character, a great place to hang out, no matter what your age, gender, quirks or species.

We're sorry we missed you, but check back often because we're planning lots of fun and mayhem.

Maelstrom Extra: Werewolf Strike (Part Two)

2009-04-30T01:19:00.007-05:00

Ricky shoved open the studio door and looked around. It was ridiculous that Kalila should pawn this problem off on him. She had hired the werewolves, so she should be the one to make things right. The band was booked through summer, though, and anything that affected their reputation affected his as well. He couldn’t afford to let the crew strike.

Luckily, Calvin was on duty, which meant the strike hadn’t yet begun. Ricky walked over. “Hey. You doing anything important right now?”

Calvin looked up from a computer. “Just checking out what my cousins are like.”

Ricky looked over his shoulder and noticed he was watching a documentary about coyotes. “Hoping you’ll meet some when we go on tour next month?” Before Calvin could answer, he added, “Can we talk frankly? It’s about the strike.”

Calvin’s features became guarded but he dutifully paused the movie. “It’s nothing personal,” he said, waiting for Ricky to sit down before continuing. “Kalila pays well and you’ve all been good to us. Our quarrel isn’t with you; it’s with the treatment of werewolves as a species.”

“Treatment in what way? During a full moon, your kind consider my kind a food source. I think a bit of wariness is justified.”

“But the rest of the time, we provide valuable services. We don’t just roadie for bands and handle equipment, you know. There are werewolf security guards, bodyguards, and drivers all over this country, and we’re the most loyal ones you can find. It’s our canine nature.”

“Then if you’re so loyal,” Ricky said, leaning forward, “Why the strike? Don’t you see that it’s a betrayal? If others are being treated badly, take a day off and march with them or whatever you’re planning to do as a protest. Don't punish us.”

Calvin snorted in disgust. “You humans are so dumb. It’s not a punishment, okay? Pack animals obey the alpha and our alpha is the head of the Local 666. If he says strike, we strike.” He turned his back on Ricky and tapped a few computer keys so he could resume watching his movie. “Now go away.”

Ricky got slowly to his feet. He had his opportunity and he had flubbed it. “Fine. We’ll hire non-union, then.”

Calvin growled but didn’t turn around.

“Maybe we’ll even hire humans.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Well, if you strike, you’ll leave us with no choice but to take action.”

Calvin turned around. “Hire scabs, and when the full moon comes, we’ll have no choice, either.”

Ricky took a step back and waited until Calvin was engrossed in his documentary before cautiously making his way to the door. This was a bigger job than he was cut out for. He was going to need help or miracle, and had no reason to believe either was forthcoming.

To Be Continued…

NOTE: Please read the announcement below or in the header about this Saturday's Maelstrom concert, right here and virtual!"

Announcements

2009-04-28T00:09:00.005-05:00

Hi, everyone. Just a few announcements to share.

First, the new Maelstrom logo t-shirts are now available. They came out pretty nice, and even Bo, who usually opposes wearing clothes, approves. You can buy one via the Merchandise link in the sidebar or get with one of the band members at one of their shows.

Actually, forget I said that about getting with the band members. That might be dangerous. I'm at most of the shows anyway ~~for damage control~~ so just ask me for a shirt, okay? Or order one online, which is probably the safest way.

Next, you may have seen the notice already, but we’re offering free drinks and cover to our friends from Come in Character this Saturday, May 2, at Cabal. It’s going to be a fun time and we hope to see you there!

And finally, we're all optimistic that the werewolf strike will be over in the next few weeks, so the band still intends to go on tour from May 23 through June 4. They’ve promised to blog every day of the tour, which will hopefully not result in any incriminating evidence. More details about the tour will be forthcoming, but for now, put this site in your blog reader or sign up as a follower so you’ll get all the tour news.

And that’s it! Oh, wait. Lazaro wants to share his thoughts about the tour with you.

Zombie Haiku:
Tours are good
Travel far.
Sample new cuisine.

Thank you for this artistic travesty, Lazaro. At least it’s nicely ambiguous for once.

Maelstrom Concert Announcement

2009-04-26T01:40:00.002-05:00

Type: Virtual Party

Date: Saturday, May 2, 2009

Location: Cabal

About: Drop by this site anytime on Saturday, May 2, to party with Maelstrom at Cabal. We’ll have music, video, drinks, and opportunities to hang out with the band and your friends. Free cover and one free drink for everyone visiting from the Come in Character blog. After-party will be at Come in Character, so if you’re not already a regular over there, go check it out!

See you at the show!

Still not sure what this is all about? Never been to a virtual party? Check out our last event, a charitable concert benefiting domestic rabbits.

Maelstrom Extra: Werewolf Strike (Part One)

2009-04-23T01:05:00.008-05:00

“We have a problem, Ricky.”

Ricky looked up from his computer. Kalila had that single-minded air that always indicated something more than a mere ‘problem,’ and with Vic right behind her, it was probably more on the order of a catastrophe. “Don’t you guys ever knock? Or at least say hello?”

Kalila waved a hand. “We don’t have time to indulge in any petty human customs. It looks like the werewolf strike is on.”

“Are you sure? I thought the talks were going well.” Ricky pushed back his chair. “You pay above union rates. Calvin and the others won’t strike.”

Vic gave a scornful look. “Guess again, human. Their allegiance is to the Local 666, not us. They took an oath.”

“Wolves are pack animals,” Kalila added. “Loyalty is in their nature.”

“But they’ve said all this time that their loyalty was to us, the ones who pay them.” Rick stood up. “I don’t appreciate this kind of deceit. We buy them steak tartare, for Christ’s sake.”

“There’s no need to invoke your god.” Kalila flung herself into Ricky’s empty chair, leaned back and folded her arms. “We just want to know what you’re going to do.”

Ricky gave her a disbelieving look. “What do I know about werewolf strikes? Besides, no offense, but you really don’t need a crew. You play small venues and support gigs. Everyone else at your level manages their own equipment. You’re getting a reputation as a bunch of prima donnas.” Seeing that this response didn’t satisfy, he added, “Okay. I’ll see if I can get you some scabs.”

Vic lunged toward him, baring his fangs. “Snack chips won’t solve anything, human.”

Ricky jumped back. “I mean non-union crew. Temps.”

“You mean strikebreakers,” Kalila said. She mulled the idea over, then shook her head. “Unacceptable. There must be a better solution.”

“Well, I can’t imagine what it might be.”

Vic turned away in disgust. “I knew it was useless to come here. What do humans know?”

Kalila got up and made to follow. “Figure something out, Ricky, or we’re going to have to start cancelling shows.”

Ricky watched them leave, then returned to his chair and slowly sat down. He didn’t know much about the werewolf union, what their goals were, or why they were calling a strike. He only knew that the band had gigs lined up at Ziggurat, Cabal, and Club Nostradamus, and even if he could get them through the next few weeks, an extended strike would leave them without a road crew for their tour at the end of May.

He rested his chin in his hands. There had to be a way.

To Be Continued...

Maelstrom Extra: Foreign Words

2009-04-19T01:07:00.008-05:00

Two-thirty, and he couldn’t find them anywhere. He had caught Vic napping and he found Bo seducing the front desk clerk, but where were Lazaro, Kalila, and Nevin?

Ricky went outside, his sense of foreboding turning to panic when he discovered a set of heavy footprints leading toward the uncleared land behind the hotel, accompanied by a deep groove in the earth that looked like a drag mark. Ricky followed the footsteps, lost them, found them again, then lost them for good among the brush. He was about to give up when the sound of someone speaking stopped him in his tracks.

It was a gentle, querulous voice, and although he couldn’t make out the words, the speaker appeared to feel strongly about something. Following the sound, Ricky picked his way through the undergrowth and hesitated on the edge of a clearing.

Lazaro stood over a muddy patch of recently turned earth, his features closed and hostile to Nevin’s pleading. Kalila cut Nevin off with a gesture and began shouting in a fast skittering language, punctuating her words with sharp gestures. Lazaro snarled and made the occasional blunt response, to no avail.

Ricky watched and listened for several minutes, then decided to put an end to the matter. He stepped into the clearing. “That’s enough, guys. You mind telling me what’s wrong?”

All three fell silent and stared at him. It was Kalila who spoke first. “There’s nothing wrong, Ricky.”

“Nothing that’s your business,” Lazaro added.

Nevin offered a tentative smile. “And it’s resolved now, anyway.”

“Well, you’re running late. You’re supposed to set up at three, and instead you’re out here in the mud, up to no good.”

Kalila came toward him. “Honestly, Ricky, paranoia is very unattractive. Don’t we pay well enough for you to hire a therapist who can help with that?”

“All I know is that Lazaro isn’t into nature walks, and whenever you talk in your demon language, it’s so no one will know the latest trouble you’ve gotten into.”

She took his arm and started leading him back toward the hotel. “You’re such an American. I bet you don’t know any other languages except your own, do you? When you’re multi-lingual, some words just come more naturally in one language than another. It doesn’t mean we’re hiding anything.”

“If you knew how complicated English was, you’d understand why we don’t like it much,” Nevin said, falling in behind them.

“Too many consonants and strange word constructions,” Kalila agreed. “Our own language flows. It has a rhythm to it, like the way water flows. It’s easier to speak a language that isn’t cluttered up.”

“So please don’t take it the wrong way,” Nevin said.

Ricky nodded, reassured, then stopped and looked back. Through the branches, he could make out Lazaro stomping on the mud, as if tamping down something that lay beneath. “Tell me he’s not doing what I think he’s doing.”

Nevin turned to Kalila, wide-eyed, and blurted something Ricky didn’t understand. Kalila answered with a scowl and a gesture.

“If I find out anyone’s gone missing from this hotel…”

Kalila said something that sounded like an order, and Nevin dashed toward the trees. Then she tugged on Ricky’s arm again, all smiles and placating words. “You need to trust us. We’ve been around a lot longer than you have, you know.” She met his skeptical gaze and gave a little shrug. “Okay, don’t believe us. Be paranoid whenever we speak in our own language. But about that therapist…”

Maelstrom Extra: Across a Crowded Room

2009-04-08T23:51:00.004-05:00

From his spot at the bar, Ricky saw her moving through the crowd. Resplendent in black leather and gold jewelry, with her long red hair flowing down her back, Kalila didn’t ask anyone to clear a path. If they didn’t do it out of respect, she’d make them want to move. Djinns had their ways.

Ricky had saved a spot and was already thinking what he would say about the first set and what he would recommend for the next, when a rangy, dark-haired man jumped into Kalila’s path. Intense and eager, he shouted his questions in an effort to be heard over the club music. A flicker of annoyance crossed Kalila’s face, then vanished in a friendly smile. Without so much as glancing Ricky’s way, she let him lead her to another part of the bar and order her a drink.

Annoyed, Ricky reached for his beer and tried to reassure himself. Kalila was good at giving impromptu interviews. He wasn’t worried that she might mention old friends from the eighteenth century or the crazy bet with Thor that had led her to found a rock band. It was the other behavior that unnerved him, the way she would lead a man on, selling with her stunning looks a musical talent that needed no additional endorsement. It was a game to her, a ploy as amusing as a high-stakes bet to a gambler, and Ricky had seen it often enough not to be fooled. Still, he squirmed as he watched her lean toward the reporter in just the right way for him to get a good look down the front of her leather bustier.

Ricky stood up. He should’ve told her to wait for him back stage after the set. He should’ve waylaid the reporter himself, since he could spot the parasitic bastards from a block away. He should’ve by now learned to never, ever, let Kalila make him jealous, because what could a human do about the behavior of a djinn?

He shoved his way toward the door, making sure to catch the eye of the bouncer so he would have no trouble getting back in. Outside, the soft spring air wrapped itself around him like a caress, gentle in contrast to the harshness of this inner-city neighborhood. He leaned against the rough bricks of the building and looked up at the sky, hoping to find a star to focus his thoughts upon, but found only the glare of sodium lights.

“Hey.”

He drew in his breath and willed himself not to look around.

Kalila walked up to him. “What did you run out like that for? I thought we were going to talk about the show.”

“It’s going fine.” He struggled to keep his voice neutral. “Good job scoring an interview.”

She edged closer, the spicy scent of her skin overpowering the parking lot smells of old oil and stale beer. “You’re jealous.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She kissed him, and her mouth was warm, her body electric. All was right with the world again, and although he could never have her for his own, he had this moment, and it was enough.

Maelstrom Extra: Bunnies Rock! (part 4)

2009-04-02T00:06:00.008-05:00

Ricky looked around the room. Lazaro was tapping a rhythm on the coffee table with a pair of snare sticks, Bo was flipping through a magazine about nudist cattle ranchers, and Nevin perched on the edge of the sofa, fussing with a bundle on the seat beside him. Kalila sat alone, tapping her foot, her lips pursed in impatience.

“As soon as Vic gets here,” Ricky said, “We can start the meeting.”

“Might as well start it without him,” Kalila said. “He’s lurking around the Red Cross headquarters again, trying to find out when their next big blood drive is.”

“It’s kind of important that you all be here. I want to discuss the Bunny Benefit Bash.”

Nevin looked up. “I think it was wonderful. The bunnies and their owners had a very good time.”

Ricky sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, resigned that he would have to do the recap without the lead singer. “Turnout was good,” he agreed. “Reasons for attendance varied, with some wanting to help Rabbit Rescue and others just there for the party, but as your first-ever dedicated charity event, it came off well. You raised nearly $300 in Canadian dollars, which is pretty good when you consider that a lot of the attendees were rabbits and had no income.”

“We should do more now that we have the knack,” Nevin said.

Lazaro scowled and Bo lowered his magazine as if he would comment, but it was Kalila who spoke first. “Helping rabbits or any other creature is fine, Ricky, but what does it do for us? We have goals of our own, you know.”

Nevin fidgeted and made a nervous gesture. “Fame isn’t everything, Kalila. There are more important things than just us.”

At that moment, the door banged open and Vic strode into the room. “That’s right, Tinkerbell. There’s me, and I’m much more important than you.” He made to throw himself onto the sofa, and Nevin let out a yelp.

“Stop! You’ll crush him!”

Vic stared in wide-eyed horror. “Dammit, Nevin! I said no rabbits!”

“You said no rabbits on the tour bus,” Nevin reminded him. “You said nothing about the studio.”

“I didn’t think I had to.”

Kalila stood up. “That’s enough, Vic. It’s my studio, my tour bus, and my band. If Nevin wants his bunny and he can care for it properly, it can stay.”

“I’ve got one for you, too,” Nevin said.

“You what?” Vic bared his fangs. “This is not acceptable, and I don’t care what the djinn says. It’s ridiculous, inappropriate, and I just…

refuse…

to…

accept…

Aw…he’s cute.” Vic took the chocolate bunny and smiled as he examined its fangs. “Thanks, Nevin. Sometimes you’re okay, you know?”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks everyone for coming to last weekend’s Bunny Benefit Bash. If you missed the party or were waiting for your first of the month paycheck so you could make a donation, the party with video, buffet, and donation information is archived. As we near Easter, please spread the word that a bunny is a big responsibility, not to be undertaken casually. Plush Bunny Adoptables make a good alternative, or you can just Make Mine Chocolate.

This concludes the Bunny Benefit Bash series. Thanks for all your support!

Bunny Benefit Bash: The Prize Drawing

2009-03-29T22:27:00.003-05:00

NOTE: The Bunny Benefit Bash is now officially over, but the party is archived in the sidebar under "Reviews, Concerts and Sightings." If you attended the party and signed the guest book, read on to see if you won a prize.

The Prize Drawing

Ricky: (Go on. You’re supposed to be the front man, so say it.)

Vic: (I’m going to get you for this, Ricky. And the rest of you, too.) Hi, everyone! I just want to take a minute to thank you all for coming out here this weekend. We hope you had a great time helping raise funds for a good cause.

Nevin: The bunnies at Rabbit Rescue of Ontario!

Vic: Uh, right. Even though we got kicked out of Canada. No hard feelings.

Bo: It could’ve happened to anyone.

Kalila: (No, sleazy, it could’ve only happened to you. Now, shut up.)

Vic: We have a few prizes we want to announce. In the Bunny Rocker category, which is only for our performers, we have some rock star picture frames. Nevin, please tell us who the winners are.

Nevin: I got one of the bunnies to draw from a hat. And the winners are Sam, Mario, and Elvis!

Vic: Bunnies, have your humans give us your mailing address, and these will go out in the next few days. Now for the guest prizes. First, we have a selection of bunny-themed treats for humans.

Bo: That would be me!

Kalila: You’re not bunny-themed.

Bo: I’ll wear a costume, if it will turn them on. I’m here to please.

Vic: Actually, the prize is candy, not an incubus bass player. And the winner is…come on, Nevin. Who is it?

Nevin: Lily from Ontario!

Vic: Congratulations, Lily. We’ll put you in touch with the prize donor after we finish up here tonight. The next prize is a Bunny Benefit Bash t-shirt.

Nevin: The winner is Ariel from Michigan!

Vic: Great. Let us know what style and size you want, and where to send it. Next we have two hand-knitted bunnies.

Nevin: They’re from the UK, so they’re extra-special.

Vic: Just tell us who the winners are, please.

Nevin: Amy from San Diego and Beezer from San Francisco!

Vic: Congratulations to our guests from California. And finally, the grand prize is a Moku Hanga woodblock print by the very talented artist, Diana Moll.

Nevin: Wow, this is lovely. I wish I could keep it.

Kalila: Buy your own off her Etsy site. Now go on, announce the winner.

Nevin: The winner is: Carrots from Brighton in the UK!

Vic: Congratulations, Carrots. I’m sure it will look terrific on your human's wall. (Hey, Ricky, that’s what humans usually do with these things, right?)

Ricky: (Yes, Vic. Please continue.)

Vic: And that’s it for the prizes—

Nevin: The best prize is that we raised money for the bunnies!

Vic: Uh, sure.

Kalila: It is, Vic. Give me that microphone, if you’re too cool a vampire to be enthusiastic about this. Hi, everyone! We’re really excited to see how many of you came out here this weekend to support the bunnies and to support us. Rabbits make terrific pets, but they’re not for everyone. They’re a commitment and a responsibility, like any other living creature. I know this because I have a pet of my own, and he’s a lot of trouble.

Ricky: (Kalila, I am not a pet.)

Kalila: More trouble than you can possibly imagine. But having a pet is rewarding too, so if you think a rabbit is what you want, study up on it, like I did with my human.

Ricky: (I’m going to kill you, Kalila.)

Kalila: (Good luck with that. I’m immortal.) Folks, there are organizations in your home town that can teach you about rabbits and help you decide if it’s the right pet for you. Or do some research online. Even if a rabbit in your home isn’t the right choice, you can sponsor one online or donate to one of the many fine organizations that help bunnies. Just remember that all living creatures deserve our support. We all have the same creator and we have to share this planet, so let’s make it a better place for all of us.

Nevin: (Uh, Kalila? You’re forgetting something.)

Kalila: (I am? Oh, yes.) Bunnies Rock!

Ricky: Well, that’s it folks! We have to-go containers if anyone wants to take some leftovers home with them. Be sure to check back here on Thursday, April 2nd, for a re-cap and information about when the Bunny Benefit Bash scrapbook will be online! Good night, everyone. Bunnies Rock!

Welcome to the Bunny Benefit Bash!

2009-03-28T00:01:00.020-05:00

The March 2009 Bunny Benefit Bash is now over, but if you missed the party, you can still enjoy the show!

Aren't our bunny rockers great?

The party included this terrific buffet of bunny favorites!

At the end of our weekend-long event, we had a prize giveaway to randomly selected guests and bunny rockers. Read about the awards ceremony here.

You may have missed the party, but you can still buy a t-shirt and read some of the stories about Maelstrom.

Check out the bunny charities we support and make a donation. There are always bunnies in need, and we don't need to have a big party to give them our support!

And in case you're wondering how this all began, here are the stories about how Maelstrom decided to do a bunny charity concert:

Bunnies Rock! (Part One)
Bunnies Rock! (Part Two)
Bunnies Rock! (Part Three)
Bunnies Rock! (Part Four)

We're sorry you missed the party, but we hope you agree...Bunnies Rock!

Bunny Benefit Bash: The Buffet!

2009-03-27T23:59:00.000-05:00

Belly right on up to the buffet, folks!

You'll see we have a nice selection of greens for you.

Or you can order a special salad delivered to your table.

Enjoy a refreshing glass of wine...

...or beer.

And nibble a few crackers while you chat with your friends.

We hope you saved room for dessert!

We hope you enjoyed your meal!

Maelstrom Announcements

2009-03-27T00:30:00.000-05:00

Hi, this is Ricky, just sharing the latest.

First, Jeff Truitt's review is now posted. Check it out if you haven't had a chance.

Second, I've asked Bo to talk to Johnny Del Rio about getting permission for us to re-post some of the articles he wrote about us for Out on the Town. In case anyone is wondering why I put Bo in charge of this, you'd best ask him. I don't want to know the details of what an incubus gets up to in his spare time, but all those roses from Johnny have got to mean something.

Next, I've discovered Nevin is keeping a scrapbook of the band's tours and I've asked to share some of it here. The link is currently at the bottom of the page and will be moved to a more prominent place after the bunny benefit is over.

Finally, I see we've had fans reading these stories that keep appearing on this site. I'm still trying to get to the bottom of it, so in the meantime, don't believe everything you read. Please. You have no idea what our lawyer is charging us just to keep her on retainer.

I'll close this post with something Lazaro just handed me. I'm sure this is just his idea of a joke, right Lazaro?

Zombie Haiku: Bunnies vs Humans

Bunnies good.
Like a snack.
But human brains taste better.

If you like this ~~travesty~~ poem, let Lazaro know. In fact, I recommend you say you like it, whether you do or not. He might just know where you live.

Maelstrom Extra: Bunnies Rock! (Part 3)

2009-03-25T13:56:00.013-05:00

“So what do you think, guys?” Ricky held up a shirt for the band’s inspection.

“Ridiculous,” Vic muttered.

“Rabbits don’t play guitars,” Lazaro agreed.

Bo shrugged. “If I see anyone tasty wearing one, I’ll just ask them to take it off, so what’s the point?”

Ricky looked at Nevin. “Well? This whole thing was your idea.”

Nevin sighed. “I think it’s a very nice shirt, but…”

“What now?” Kalila said. “Are you still upset that we’ll be donating to the Canadian bunnies?”

“No,” he said earnestly. “I just wish we could donate to all of them.”

“Too late,” Vic snarled. “Rabbit Rescue is already in the credits and on the program. That’s what you get for being reactive instead of an active participant in the process.”

“All the charities are listed on the back,” Ricky reminded him. “You’re doing good work, regardless. And since they take donations through PayPal, the currency exchange shouldn't add any extra layers of complexity to the process.” He set the shirt aside and picked up a pen and piece of paper. “Now, let’s discuss particulars. The event is Saturday, with an encore on Sunday. I’ve bought a guest book for the VIPs, we have prizes, and I’ve arranged catering. All I need now is to know what time you’d like to do the meet and greet.”

Vic gave him a baleful look. “You’re kidding, right? Please don't tell me I have to meet the bunnies.”

“I’d like to meet them,” Bo said. “You called Hef, right? Told him to include Miss January?”

Ricky squirmed. “Right…well, I'm still working on that. His secretary hasn’t gotten back to me, very busy you know, so uh…you may have to go with whatever is available.”

Bo gave a little shrug. “An incubus can always rise to the occasion.”

“I have no doubt.” Ricky looked around the room. “So since no one seems to have a preference, how about I just pick a few times for you to meet your fans and I’ll let you know.”

“As long as it’s after dark,” Vic said with a heavy sigh of resignation.

“And no rabbits,” Lazaro added.

Nevin waved a hand. “But I want to meet the bunnies. What about me?”

Ricky nodded and made a few notes. “Daytime chats, bunnies allowed, Vic and Lazaro can skip. Nighttime chats, no bunnies, but all of you will be there with good attitudes and no excuses. Agreed?”

"I always like to meet my fans," Bo said. "And if any of them want to drop by a little early, I'm available."

Kalila flipped her hair over her shoulder and reached for her guitar. "Don't worry, Ricky. Just give us the dates and times and we'll be there." She glanced at Vic and Lazaro. "We're going to play 'nice human' and be punctual and polite, right guys?"

Lazaro shrugged and looked away.

"Vic?"

He glared from underneath his brows.

"Be a sport," Ricky told him.

"Vampires aren't sports." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll be there, but I'm making no promises."

To Be Continued...

Bunny Fans! Thanks for your participation in the poll and the Bunnies Rock! video. Watch this space for more information about the benefit, which will begin roughly at 12:01 am US Central Time on Saturday, March 28.

Maelstrom Extra: Bunnies Rock! (part 2)

2009-03-18T13:16:00.010-05:00

“So we’re all on board with March 28 for the Bunny Benefit?” Ricky asked. “It’s not too late to get the deposit back.”

“I think the event should be for the whole weekend,” Nevin said. “For those who can’t make it on Saturday.”

Vic leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “What kind of losers can’t make a party on Saturday night? This is a big enough burden on us as it is. We need to get it over with.”

“Will there be enough time for you to get me some real bunnies?” Bo asked. “You know, like Playboy?”

Ricky cut his eyes away. “Uh…we’ll see. No promises, okay?”

“My contract has a catering clause,” Bo reminded him.

“Right.” Ricky looked around the room. “Does anyone have any reasonable requests or objections?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Good. The twenty-eighth it is.” He glanced at Nevin. “And if there's sufficient interest, maybe we’ll do a Sunday encore. I’ll talk to the venue manager about it. In the meantime, have you decided which charity we’ll be supporting?”

Nevin pulled a crumpled paper out of his pocket and sighed. “I don’t know, Ricky. They’re all so good.”

“So pick one,” Kalila said.

“Well,” he traced a finger down the list. “It would be nice to support a group from near my home. Rabbit and Guinea Pig Welfare and Honeybunnies are both in the UK.”

Vic jumped up. “I have to sing for pigs now, too?” He grabbed the list and started reading. “Friends of Rabbits? Best Friends? Vampires aren’t best friends with anyone, much less these ubiquitous creatures you think are so compelling.” He crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor. This is a stupid idea.”

Kalila flashed him a dirty look, picked up the paper and smoothed it out again. “We’ve got two Rabbit Havens here, one in Washington and one in California.”

“I like California girls,” Bo said.

“You like all of them.” Kalila went back to reading. “Bright Eyes Rabbit Rescue is near Washington DC. That might interest the patriotic types, right, Ricky?”

Ricky shrugged. “I guess.”

“And then there’s Rabbit Rescue, Inc, in Canada.”

“We got kicked out of Canada,” Vic said. “Remember?”

“That doesn’t mean they won’t take our money.” She handed Nevin the list. “Ricky did a good job. Pick one.”

Nevin shifted in his seat. “But if I choose the wrong one—”

“They’re all wrong,” Vic snarled. “It’s not natural for us to be doing something for bunnies. We should be feeding them to the werewolves at the full moon, not hosting concerts for them. Just make up your mind so we can end this meeting.”

While Nevin sniffled and Kalila patted his shoulder in concern, Ricky said, “Look, they’re all no-kill shelters. No rabbit will die because you chose one place over another. We’ll put the names of all the charities on the back of the t-shirts. It’ll be a little free publicity. So come on. Choose.”

Nevin looked at the paper again and sighed. “Well, okay. But I could use a little help…”

To Be Continued…

Bunny fans, help Nevin make up his mind! Select a charity from the poll in the sidebar. If you need more information, we have a Voter’s Guide available.

Bunny Benefit Bash Donation Guide

2009-03-17T00:45:00.031-05:00

Our benefit proceeds will be going to the following fine organization:

Rabbit Rescue, Inc. (Ontario)
Famous Residents: Fez, Norbert, Abbey

Make a personal donation to Rabbit Rescue

The following non-profits have also been recommended by the bunny blogosphere and could use your help:

Rabbit and Guinea Pig Welfare
Founded: 1995
Scope: Rugby, UK
Famous Resident: Hugo
Honeybunnies
Founded: 2005
Scope: Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire, UK
Famous Residents: Miss Eve and Neville
Rabbit Haven (Gig Harbor, WA)
Founded: 1986
Washington State
Famous Residents: None, but this is in Rabbits Guy's neck of the woods.
Friends of Rabbits of Northern Virginia
Founded 1997
Scope: Northern Virginia and Maryland
Famous Residents: None yet. This is where Fez's biped volunteers!
The Rabbit Haven (Santa Cruz, CA)
Founded: 1991
Scope: Santa Cruz, California, and surrounding area
Famous Residents: Tyler and Sydney
Best Friends Bunny House
Founded: 1980s
Scope: USA, primarily the western states
Famous Residents: None, but check their online newsletter!
Bright Eyes Rabbit Rescue
Founded
Scope: Maryland, Northern Virginia
Famous Resident: Pink

Maelstrom Extra: Bunnies Rock! (Part 1)

2009-03-11T11:16:00.020-05:00

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first in our Bunny Benefit Bash series. Read on to find out how you can help save the bunnies and make your rabbit a rock star!

Ricky struggled with the studio door, encumbered by a laptop slung over his shoulder and a box of promotional materials from the Lupine Defense League. He stumbled inside, only to drop the box on his foot.

A few feet away, Calvin looked up from watching Werewolf Recluse II: New Moon on a portable DVD player. “You should be more careful, human.”

“I don’t suppose you could’ve held the door.”

“I didn’t feel like it.”

Ricky set the box on the desk. “It was your idea that we sponsor a wolf charity. If you’re not going to help, I’ll tell the band they should do something else—Toys for Tots, maybe.”

While Calvin grumbled and tore open the box, Ricky went to check on the band. They were supposed to be practicing, but it sounded like someone had lost their temper. He paused outside the rehearsal room.

“Just play the stupid song, Nevin.”

“I’m not feeling it.”

“Fake it.”

“I can’t. I want to play slow, sad songs today.”

“You’re in the wrong band for that, so try again. Carrion Road, from the top.”

“But Vic—”

Ricky pushed open the door. “Okay, guys. What’s going on?”

Vic stepped away from the mic and waved an arm in disgust. “Tinkerbell here keeps missing notes.”

“He’s being a prissy whiner,” Bo added.

Kalila nodded. “He’s not up to par, and he’s not even making a good faith effort.”

“Something’s wrong with his brain,” Lazaro muttered.

Ricky looked at Nevin in concern. “What’s up?”

Nevin traced a finger across his keyboard. “I’m very depressed.”

Ricky waited for a moment, hoping he would elaborate. “Maybe it will cheer you up to know our promo materials arrived today. We’ll be able to start pitching the wolf charity again. Think how many wolves you’ll be saving.”

Nevin’s lower lip trembled and he dropped to the floor in tears.

Ricky turned to Kalila in alarm. “Did I say something wrong?”

She set her guitar in its stand and crouched by Nevin’s side. “He finished reading Watership Down last night. He’s worried about rabbits now, and the wolf charity—”

“Wolves eat bunnies!” Nevin wailed.

Ricky took a deep breath. “Well, yes. But it’s all part of nature, you know, and there’s plenty of bunnies left.”

“They breed like rabbits,” Bo pointed out.

Nevin sobbed harder, and Kalila tried to soothe him.

“Now he thinks every rabbit has a unique personality,” Vic sneered. To Nevin, he added, “Didn’t I tell you not to read books? They only give you ideas.”

“That’s not always a bad thing,” Bo told him. “I got a lot of good ideas from The Story of O.”

“Enough,” Ricky told him. He sat by Nevin’s side, hoping to cajole him into a better mood. “There’s lots of rabbit charities. I could find a few for you to choose from, and at your next show—”

“Forget it,” Vic said. “I’m not doing a ‘Save the Bunnies’ campaign.”

Bo gave a little shrug. “I could go for it. They like sex, I like sex…rabbits are cool.”

Lazaro stomped on his bass drum pedal. “They eat vegetables and have tiny brains.”

“How does that differ from Ricky?” Bo said. “I’m telling you, this could work.”

By now Nevin had quit crying and was wiping his eyes. “You guys really think so?”

“We’ll do a bunny benefit, just for you,” Kalila said.

Vic scowled. “But only this once, glitterboy. After that, your rodents are on their own.”

“They’re not rodents,” Nevin said. “Rabbits are lagomorphs.” He gave Ricky a tenuous smile. “So you’ll find us a good rabbit charity? You really want to help?”

Ricky met Kalila’s eyes to confirm it was what she wanted. Then he patted Nevin on the shoulder. “I’ll find some reputable charities for you to choose from, and we’ll organize a…Bunny Benefit Bash. How does that sound?”

Vic threw himself into a chair and pouted. “It sounds ridiculous.”

“No,” Nevin said, “It sounds wonderful.”

To Be Continued...

Attention Bunny-Fans! Do you have a favorite rabbit charity? Ricky needs your recommendations! Leave details in the comments below or in the tag box on the right. You can also email your recommendation to uhamp "at" yahoo "dot" com. Do you have a bunny who'd like to be a rock star? Tell us where to find lapine talent for the upcoming Bunnies That Rock music video!

Maelstrom Extra: Damage Control

2009-03-07T00:31:00.013-06:00

Ricky walked into the studio lounge and assessed. Vic was slumped in a chair, Bo lay on the sofa, drowsily poring over a sex toy catalog, and Lazaro had inexplicably brought his bass drum to the meeting and sat dozing against it. Only Nevin seemed to notice or care that Ricky had arrived, and his perky smile was strained.

“Glad you all could make it,” Ricky said, pretending he had everyone’s attention. “Where’s Kalila?”

Vic opened one eye and gestured at the lamp on the coffee table.

Ricky picked it up and rubbed it with his cuff. “Wake up. Meeting, remember?”

“You're being too nice,” Vic snarled. He grabbed the lamp and shook it. “Get out of there, bitch, so we can have this meeting and go to bed!”

Sparks and smoke erupted out of the lamp and Vic dropped it to the table with a clatter.

“You blood-sucking bastard!” Kalila morphed out of the smoke and advanced on Vic in a blaze of djinn fury. “One of these days I’ll stake you and then you’ll be sorry.”

“You think I’m afraid of you? You’re just a freak who eats air.”

“You should be scared, because—”

Ricky waved his hands. “Could you two save it until after the meeting? I don’t want to be here either, so listen up, because this is important.”

Kalila folded her arms and gave him a cool look while Vic slinked back to his chair and feigned boredom.

“It’s about what happened at the show last night.” Ricky wished he felt certain of everyone’s attention, but Bo was perusing his catalog again, Lazaro was toying with a drum stick, and Vic was pretending fascination with a ceiling panel. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t care whose meal you thought she was, but I’ve talked to your lawyer and she suggested we pay the medical bills as a goodwill gesture.”

Kalila shrugged. “So do it.”

“We have no use for money,” Vic added, “Other than to buy off whiney humans. She didn’t even taste good.”

Bo frowned. “I thought she did. And money has other uses, like for buying things out of this catalog. The ‘Deluxe Dominator 3’ costs $29.95.”

“Shipping and handling?”

“Shipping is $4.95. I’ll do the handling myself.”

“Uh, guys,” Ricky said, “I think we’ve wandered off topic. The reason I called this meeting was to remind you how important it is to be careful with your fans. Between the lawyer, the medical bills, the possible lawsuit—”

“And bribing the witnesses,” Vic added.

“I ate two of them,” Lazaro said.

Vic brightened. “There you go, Ricky. We’re saving money already.”

Ricky bit his lip and considered. Was this conversation worth pursuing? Could he ever hope to make them understand?

As if reading his mind, Kalila said, “We get it, Ricky. Really. But damage control is part of your job. It’s in your contract.” When he didn’t answer, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “So other than the incident with the girl, what did you think of the show? We rocked, didn’t we?”

Ricky started to say something cutting, but caught himself. What would be the point? “Yeah,” he admitted. “You rock.”

Maelstrom Extra: A Problem

2009-03-05T00:17:00.014-06:00

Ricky checked his watch. He was late, but luckily the band was becoming more punctual. It had been awhile since he caught them napping or rambling about in search of prey when they should be getting set up for a show. The sight of the equipment van in the alley reassured him and he waved at one of the werewolf crew before pushing through the service door.

His first order of business was to check in with the manager and exchange the standard pleasantries. Finding no one in the office, Ricky headed toward the club to see how the setup was coming along. The manager would probably be there, and if he wasn’t, someone might know—

“There you are.” Kalila said, appearing out of nowhere like the damnable djinn she was. “We have a problem.”

Ricky looked at her. “Please tell me Bo didn’t already seduce someone.”

“Only one of the cleanup crew.” She waved a hand to dismiss the matter. “No, I’m afraid this is more serious. Lazaro ate—” she called into the darkness of the drummer alcove. “What was his name, again?”

“Ken Blakely!” Lazaro shouted back.

Ricky leaped onto the stage, stomped past Vic and Nevin, and found the drummer placidly hanging a cymbal. “You ate the venue manager? This is a joke, right?”

Lazaro shrugged his big shoulders. “He came back here and messed with my drums.”

Vic stopped adjusting a microphone. “It was his own damn fault. He went back there to look at the drum setup, tripped like the clumsy primate he was, and knocked over the hi-hat.”

“Genuine Zildjian cymbals,” Lazaro muttered.

“But…you don’t avenge simple human mistakes like that. This is totally inappropriate and—”

Lazaro snarled.

“Better watch it,” Vic said, baring his fangs. “You know what he’s like in this kind of mood.”

Regrettably, Ricky did know. “Well …did you at least hide the remains?”

“Of course,” Lazaro snorted. “I’m not stupid.”

“We’re not worried about your human laws and morals,” Kalila said, walking across the stage and picking up her guitar. “And we’re not concerned about tonight. Places like this practically run themselves.”

Ricky ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, so if you’re not worried about any of the things a normal person would worry about, why did you ruin my day by mentioning it? You said there was a problem.”

“Oh, there’s definitely a problem, human,” Vic said.

Kalila nodded. “Now that the manager is dinner…”

“Please don’t call him that.”

“More like a snack, anyway,” Lazaro said.

“I don’t need to hear—”

“Get over it, human,” Vic snarled.

Ricky turned back to Kalila. “Just tell me what you think the problem is.”

Kalila blinked as if the answer were obvious. “How are we going to get paid?”

Maelstrom Extra: Once Lost, Twice Found

2009-03-01T01:18:00.006-06:00

Ricky fumbled in the dresser drawer, thinking how he needed to do laundry since most of his clean socks were old, the wrong color, or had holes. He found a pair that might do, but when he pulled the balled socks apart, something fell out.

It was a watch.

Not just any watch, but a stainless steel Omega with gold markers and hands. It had a clean, futuristic design common to when it was made in the 1950s. And Ricky knew when it had been made because it had been his father’s watch, and his grandfather’s.

That was a problem.

Ricky now remembered having wedged the watch into a sock in his suitcase when they stayed at a questionable hotel on tour nearly a year ago. He then promptly forgot what he had done and tore the room apart, convinced that it had been lost or stolen. Distraught and irritable, he moped at concerts and snapped at the band until a week later, Kalila casually handed him the watch, saying Nevin had found it on the tour bus. How it got there, Ricky wasn’t sure, nor did he care. He was so thrilled to have it back he didn’t question her story, but now…

He set the watch on the bed and opened another drawer. And yes, here was the watch again. He held it to the light. Same steel case, same gold dial, even the same patina on the back and wear on the leather strap.

He laid it next to the other and examined them side-by-side. Even the nick in the crystal was the same.

This would never do.

He tugged on his socks, and found his shoes and jacket. Then he shoved both watches in his pocket, grabbed his keys, and headed out to the car. But as he slammed the car door shut and reached for the seatbelt, a thought struck him. Yes, the band had lied to him, and maybe they had replaced his watch just so he would shut up about it. But there was a sweetness to the gesture, too. There were other ways they could’ve dealt with his moping than by conjuring an exact replica so he could be happy again.

And it was an exact replica. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the two watches, marveling all over again at how alike they were. In fact, there was no way to tell which was which.

No way at all.

For a long moment, he sat numbed by his own stupidity. Then he picked one, wound it up, and held it to his ear, charmed as he had been as a child, by its ticking.

Lost once, found twice, and both times special.

Announcement: First Chapter Posted!

2009-02-25T12:34:00.000-06:00

First chapter of the novel can be read here or by following the link in the banner above. If you have trouble reading it, leave your contact info in the comments and a pdf will be emailed to you.

And here's the newest Three Word Wednesday story: Incubus Indifference. The prompts were Callous, Interfere, and Persistent, and the result was something a little edgier than what usually appears here, but still quite work-safe.

And in case you missed them, here are a few recent stories:

Trusting Demons: Ricky is too sick to go to the show, but can he trust the band to play their gig and behave themselves?

Drive-In: A quiet night at the drive-in turns frustrating when three of the band members go missing. Ricky just wants to hang out with Kalila, but instead he's on a demon hunt.

Wanted for Murder: There's a reward out for clues to the murderer of a missing pizza delivery driver. Is it worth the band's trouble to turn Lazaro in, or should they just insist he hide the bodies better?

And the first story ever posted here, before we had any traffic:

Variax Variations: Kalila is intrigued by a new guitar. Ricky wants her to quit goofing off so they can check out a new venue. He knows how to get a genie out of a lamp, but can he get her out of the guitar store?

Enjoy! And if you like the artwork above, check out Rebecca's gallery!

Maelstrom Extra: Incubus Indifference

2009-02-25T12:30:00.002-06:00

Ricky stood at the edge of the room, assaulted by the thumping bass of a pop tune. A blonde on stage was slithering around a pole while other girls worked the tables, thrusting their breasts into men’s faces and collecting bills for lap dances. A perky brunette in a sequined bustier hurried over to solicit a drink order, but just then Ricky saw who he was looking for.

He pushed his way through the crowd to a dark corner table on the other side of the room. Although it was against the rules of the establishment and the laws of the state, Bo had a brunette seated firmly in his lap while he kissed a redhead leaning up against him. Ricky was reluctant to interfere, but this couldn’t be allowed. “Hey, Bo.”

Bo glanced up. “Hi, Ricky, nice of you to join us.” He traced the contour of one of the redhead’s breasts. “Go see what my friend wants, babe. Make him happy. You and I can finish what we’ve got going on later.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Ricky said, waving the girl away. “You have a show tonight, Bo. What the hell are you doing here?”

Bo slid his hands around the brunette’s backside and ground her hips into his. “I’m hiding out,” he said.

“But—” Ricky looked around the room full of nearly-naked women. “This is the first place someone would look for an incubus, don’t you think?”

“The only thing I’m thinking is how to get my pants off.” Bo nuzzled the girl's neck, then added, “I’m hiding from Johnny Del Rio. He’s persistent as the devil, but he won’t come here.”

“Don’t you think that’s unfair to the rest of the band?” Ricky moved a little closer, shouting to be heard over the pounding rhythms of a new dancer’s song. “You seduced the music reporter and now you have to live with the consequences. Just tell Johnny the truth. Or tell him a lie, what the hell do I care? But this callous disregard for your fellow band members has got to stop.”

“What do you think, darling?” Bo asked his girl, holding her against him as she squirmed. “Do I need to stop?”

“No,” she giggled.

Bo began jerking her against him in a rhythm that made Ricky suspicious that he had found a way to undo his pants, but he couldn’t be sure because the tablecloth obscured his line of sight. Small blessings. “Fine,” Ricky said. “But Kalila said to tell you that if you’re not at the venue by eight, you’re out of the band.”

The brunette quit moaning long enough to ask, “Who’s Kalila?”

“Just a bitchy genie,” Bo told her.

“Am I a bitch?”

Ricky decided not to wait for the outcome of this conversation, or to find out when someone would notice what was going on at this dark corner table. He walked back through the club, spurning offers of drinks and lap dances. Once he was outside, he leaned against a post for a minute, glad to be out of the sex-drenched atmosphere of the strip joint. Strumpets for hire had never appealed to him, and besides, not one of them could hold a candle to Kalila.

Come to think of it, Kalila would be wondering where he was. He would just have to tell her that Bo was being a typical incubus. Demons did what they did, after all, and who was he to question it? He might spend his days and nights with fey and demons, but he was still only a man.

Maelstrom Extra: Trusting Demons

2009-02-21T23:57:00.003-06:00

Ricky squinted at the thermometer. 102.8. Where the hell was Kalila? He fumbled for his BlackBerry, but she hadn’t returned his message.

There could be only one reason. The band was up to no good and Kalila didn’t want to heal him because he’d try to put a stop to their antics. He struggled to focus so he could read the time. Damn. If he could somehow get dressed, maybe he could be there for the second set.

He slipped out from under the covers, his head pounding and the room swaying. He fumbled in the dresser for a pair of socks, but was shivering too much to pull them on.

Who the hell was he kidding? He collapsed back on the bed and curled up in a ball. Where was Kalila? Oh, yes. Mayhem. Bitchy genie. For all he knew, they weren’t even at their gig. Ricky found his BlackBerry under the covers and called the venue.

“Sure, they’re here,” the manager said. “Or at least they’re somewhere. They just went on break. Great first set. The girls love your bass player.”

Ricky licked his lips and tried to keep his voice steady. “So, no problems?”

“Not with the band. We had a girl pass out before the show, but it was probably some kind of anemia thing.”

Silently cursing the vampire lead singer, Ricky tried again to get dressed, but the room tipped and dumped him to the floor. Resigned, he climbed back into bed. For the next few hours he drifted in and out of consciousness, his mind a jumble of vampire and zombie mayhem, indiscriminate incubus couplings, and Kalila presiding over it all, reminding him, “You knew what you were getting into when you let us renew your contract.”

When he next found himself fully awake, he took his temperature, found it still over 101, and turned on the television, hoping for a distraction. He tried to watch an old movie, but when a news crawler appeared at the bottom of his screen telling of the disappearance of a local college student, he panicked. Lazaro couldn’t have done that, could he? Ricky tried to reassure himself that anything the zombie drummer got up to tonight wouldn’t make the news until tomorrow, but logic didn’t help.

He was trying again to figure out how to get his socks on when the door flew open and Kalila swept in, followed by the other band members. “Hi, Ricky,” she said. “We missed you tonight.”

Ricky grabbed a blanket off the bed and pulled it around himself. “Where the hell have you been?”

“At our gig. What did you expect?”

“I told you I was sick and to come heal me.”

“It’s about priorities, primate,” Vic informed him. “Florence Nighting-djinn here couldn’t fix your stupid cold and still be on time for the show.” He slumped into the nearest chair. “You always say honoring our contracts comes first.”

Ricky shivered. “Please, I’m not up for any of this. You wanted to run amok and you knew you couldn’t do it if I was there.”

Vic and Bo made as if to protest, but Kalila silenced them with a wave of her hand. “Ricky, you’re being very unfair.” She pushed his damp hair off his forehead and looked into his eyes. “I’ll make this fever go away and you’ll feel much better.”

“Just don’t mess with my brain, okay?”

“Oh, Ricky. You should trust us.”

He didn’t want to do as she said, but her voice was soothing, and her touch sent a glow through his body, easing his shivers and the dull ache of his joints. The room felt comfortable now, and he looked up at Kalila, realizing that he couldn’t remember what was the last thing she had said to him, or if she had said anything at all.

“What did you make me forget?”

Kalila took a step back, offended. “Nothing. I ended your fever, is all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t you trust us?” Kalila made a small motion to Bo, who turned off the TV, where a reporter had been discussing the missing college student.

She touched his face again, and Ricky felt the same peaceful warmth course through him. Of course the band hadn’t gotten up to anything tonight. They came straight over after the show. They cared about him and would never cause him trouble. “Thanks, guys,” he said, drowsy now that he was no longer feverish and in pain. “I knew I could count on you.”

Maelstrom Extra: Drive-In

2009-02-18T10:20:00.003-06:00

The images on the multi-story screen flickered and static crackled on the radio. Ricky paid no attention, warm and sleepy with Kalila wedged against him, dozing on his shoulder. With a little effort, he could almost convince himself that Kalila was a mortal girl and this was an ordinary date at a nostalgic drive-in theater.

A buzz of static sawed through the movie dialogue again.

“You mind fixing that?” said a voice from the back seat.

Suppressing a sigh, Ricky reached to adjust the knob. “That better?” He glanced at Nevin in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know why you don’t fix it yourself, since you’re the one with magic powers, and—” Ricky frowned and twisted around in his seat, ignoring Kalila’s look of sleepy indignation. “Where are the others?”

Nevin shrugged. “I think Bo got discouraged that no one in the movie was taking their clothes off, and Vic and Lazaro probably went for snacks.”

Cursing, Ricky fumbled for his jacket. “Dammit, they promised they would sit quietly and watch the movie.”

Kalila shoved her hair out of her eyes. “And you believed them?”

“Don’t start. You could’ve warned me.” Ricky got out of the Lexus and zipped his jacket against the cold. Since they could be anywhere, one direction was as good as any other. He picked a starting point and began walking the rows of cars, looking for foggy windows and signs of mayhem. Getting only puzzled looks for his trouble, he decided to try the concession stand.

The teenage clerk was leaning against the counter watching the movie with a suspiciously dreamy expression on her face. Nevertheless, when Ricky quizzed her about his missing band members, she seemed candid in her assertion that no one had been to the counter in the last half hour, and her neck was free of bite marks.

Baffled, and increasingly concerned, Ricky started toward the entrance kiosk, glancing around as he walked, as if he might find his missing vampire, zombie, and incubus hiding in the brush at the side of the road. When he got to the booth, the cashier smiled politely and assured him she had seen no one, but the concern in her eyes and the tiny crease between her brows told Ricky she questioned his sanity.

If only she knew! Ricky pulled his jacket tight around his body as he made his way back to the Lexus. On the giant screen, a car chase was in progress, but he found it annoying rather than exciting. Here he was at a run-down drive-in theater in some dismal little town on tour, with three missing demons to account for. No Hollywood chase could match that for drama.

He pulled open the car door and leaned inside. “I can’t find them, Kalila. Do you have any—?”

Wedged into the back seat, Lazaro, Vic and Bo grinned.

“It’s about time you came back,” Kalila said. “I was beginning to think I’d have to go looking for you.”

“You’re missing a great movie,” Vic added.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ricky said.

Bo shrugged. “We needed to use the restroom.”

“Don’t lie. You guys don’t use the restroom. What were you up to?”

Kalila reached across the seat and tugged at his sleeve. “They’re back now, so just come watch the movie.”

Ricky didn’t want to let the matter drop, but he was cold, so he climbed in and shut the door. He turned around in his seat. “Whatever you were doing, it was a big risk and I don’t appreciate it. If any cops come nosing around the hotel later tonight, I’m not taking up for you.”

“You worry too much,” Kalila said. “And we can hire our own lawyers.” Gently, she nudged him back into the proper position to see the movie. “Can’t you just relax and enjoy what we came here for?”

Before Ricky could answer, she snuggled up against him and laid her head on his shoulder. He hesitated, wanting to be angry, but she was right. Whatever was done, was done, and demons could look out for themselves.

He adjusted the sound on the radio, then on impulse, stole an arm around her and pulled her close.

On screen, police cars gave chase, their strobes flashing red and white into the night.

Maelstrom Extra: Wanted for Murder

2009-02-15T10:32:00.007-06:00

Ricky waited impatiently while the band filed into the room, muttering and grumbling at the early hour.

“This had better be something serious, human,” Vic snarled.

“Stupid daytime meetings,” Lazaro agreed as he slumped into a chair. He had a pair of snare sticks and was about to start tapping on the nearest table when Ricky stopped him.

“None of that, Lazaro. You’re the reason we’re here.”

“Why him?” Bo said.

Vic scowled and leaned against a wall. “If he’s annoying you, just put him back in the ground for awhile. Me, too, while you’re at it.”

“He’s not annoying me,” Ricky said. “At least no more than any of you do.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “It’s this. Someone found the body of that missing pizza delivery guy and now there’s a reward for information about who’s responsible.”

Bo flopped onto the sofa. “Well, it wasn’t me. I’ve never done anything responsible in my life. What’s the reward, by the way? Girls?”

“Uh…no.”

“Blood?” Vic asked. “I’d turn Lazaro in for a few pints of O.”

Kalila had been sitting by herself, looking bored, but now she sat a little straighter. “Would we be on the news? You’re always saying to look for ways to get our names out there.”

“Turning in your drummer for murder isn’t a good way to do that,” Ricky told her. “Look, guys, this is serious. You need to quit preying on humans.”

“That’s no fun,” Bo said.

“Not happening,” Vic agreed. “We’re predators, and that’s what we do.”

“I’m not a predator,” Nevin piped up.

Lazaro turned on him. “Stupid nelly fairy.”

“I’m not—”

“Enough!” Ricky looked at each of them in turn. “This kind of thing can’t happen again. Getting charged with murder will ruin your career.” Getting only silent stares in reply, he added, “No more killing.”

Lazaro shook his head slowly. “Zombies gotta eat. How about I hide the bodies better?”

Ricky wanted to tell him this was unacceptable, but seeing that the others were nodding in agreement, he asked, “Is that really the best you can do?”

“I guess I could ask for volunteers.”

“How about we find him some of those people who donate their brains to science?” Kalila suggested.

“Or we could pair up with the suicide hotline,” Vic said.

With a sigh, Ricky crumpled the news story and threw it away. He was dealing with demons, after all, so what did he expect? “Just try not to get caught, guys. Please?”

Contest Winner: Date with Bo

2009-02-14T00:02:00.000-06:00

Message from Management: This report of a date with Maelstrom's bass player, Bo Valentino, was submitted by Thomma Lyn, who appears to have suffered no ill effects or divorce threats due to winning this "date." Landon Talent Management does not in any way encourage the practice of humans dating incubi and did not endorse this contest. ~ Ricky Landon

Thomma and her hubby were on their way to the mountains for a Valentine's Day hike. It was an unseasonably warm day, so they were going on a Waterfall Quest: locals had told Thomma and her hubby that there was, beyond the end of a small trail, a forty-foot-high waterfall and that if they pushed through the brush far enough, they'd find it.

As Thomma and her hubby walked up the road to the trailhead, she racked her mind. There was something important about this day, something she'd forgotten.

When they got to the trailhead, a tall blond man was leaning against a tree, waiting for them. "I thought you two would never get here," he said.

"Who are you?" Thomma's hubby said.

"Bo Valentino."

And Thomma remembered. The man leaning against the tree wasn't a man at all. He was an incubus. Thomma had won her friend Ann's contest, and the prize was a date with Bo, Maelstrom's bass player.

Thomma's hubby stared at Bo, then at Thomma. "You told me about winning that contest. But I didn't think the guy would be real."

"Apparently he is," Thomma said. This was far-out stuff. She remembered from Ann's novel that Ricky, Maelstrom's band manager, had only to think about one of the band members, then he or she would appear. But Thomma had forgotten about winning the date with Bo. How had he appeared, if she wasn't thinking about him?

Bo answered her unspoken question while arranging himself more sensuously against the tree. "You thought about me when you won the contest. And I never stand up a date. Incubi need to eat, and I've been looking forward to Valentine's Day dinner."

Thomma's hubby gave Bo a hard look. "My wife isn't going to be your dinner."

"There are two of you, aren't there?" Into Bo's eyes crept a come-hither glow.

"We're not into that," Thomma said. "How about if you just come with us on our hike?"

"This isn't fair." Bo stood up and looked around. "Are there any other hikers in these woods?"

"Not very often," Thomma said. "You're more likely to run across riders."

"Riders?"

"People riding horses."

"Oh." Bo nodded. "A horse would be nice. Humans make better meals, but an incubus has to take what he can get."

"For Pete's sake," Thomma's hubby said. "You can come along on our hike, but only if you keep your hands off both of us. And you can bet no rider will let you molest their horse."

Bo shot Thomma a plaintive look. "But it's Valentine's Day. There's got to be somebody around I can--"

"There isn't," she said. "But look at it this way. The hike will be something new for you. We're looking for a big waterfall that's supposed to be around here. We might find it today."

"Sounds more like Nevin's speed," Bo said. "You two should have won a date with the fairy, not with me."

Thomma shrugged, then she and her hubby proceeded up the trail. She cast a glance back and saw Bo slouching along behind them, scowling.

Bo's scowl deepened when the trail ended and they had to make their way through the brush. Thomma and her hubby were used to rocks, roots, and tangly laurel thickets, but Bo wasn't. With every step he took, he stumbled and cursed. "This sucks. You two really enjoy this kind of thing?"

"Yeah," Thomma said. "We love it."

"You're crazy. I could be back home, on the prowl, having the best Valentine's Day ever. Instead, I'm..." His feet tangled in the thick brush and he fell, yowling as a twig poked him in the cheek.

Thomma and her hubby backtracked to help Bo up, but by the time they reached him, he'd already got to his feet. "This blows. And we haven't even run into any horses."

"We won't, since we're off the trail," Thomma said. "Sorry."

She and her hubby hiked carefully alongside the stream. Then they climbed an embankment. Pulling themselves up by roots and large, embedded rocks, they made it to a level spot, and Thomma gazed out from her new vantage point.

And there was the waterfall. It was gorgeous: at least forty feet high, perhaps fifty. Excitedly, Thomma pulled out her camera and began taking pictures. She exchanged a smile with her hubby, then she looked for Bo. He had stayed down by the stream. His attention was fixed on a young black bear who had emerged from her den to check out the warm day. She picked her way along the rocks, her back to him.

In Bo's eyes shone an unmistakable gleam.

"Valentine's Day dinner," he said triumphantly. "And she's a female, too!"

Hearing Bo's voice, the bear became alarmed and ran for the nearest big tree. She scrambled up it to get away from Bo, but Bo, in his determination, easily shimmied up the tree after the bear. But while Bo was still climbing up, the bear scooted down on the opposite side. Bo grabbed for her, but she was too quick for him. The bear jumped to the ground and ran away, back to her den.

Bo clung to branches near the top of the tree. "I can't get down."

"Why can't you come down the same way you got up?" Thomma asked.

"I don't know how I got up. All I could think about was... eating." He gazed longingly at Thomma and her husband. "Maybe you two could help me get down."

"Forget about it," Thomma's hubby said. "We're not going to be your Valentine's Day dinner."

"Then it's back to the city for me," Bo said. "An incubus just can't find a decent meal in the country." Then he disappeared from the high limbs of the tree, and it was as though he'd never been there at all.

Maelstrom Extra: A Good Sport

2009-02-14T00:01:00.004-06:00

Ricky checked the time on his BlackBerry, then darted a glance toward the back of the bus, where Bo lay on the lounge sofa, engrossed in a porn video. Should he bother him? Ricky stood up. It never hurt to ask.

Bo grinned lazily at his approach. “Care to join me, human?”

Ricky tried to ignore the wet and thrusting bodies on the plasma screen. “I was wondering if I could watch the game.”

Bo stared for a moment, not understanding. “You mean sports?”

“Football, to be specific. But yes, sports.”

“This is a sport, too, and I’m getting some interesting new ideas.”

“You seem to have plenty of ideas already.”

“It’s never enough.” Bo gestured toward the screen. “Like what they’re doing right now, for example. I wouldn't have thought three people in a waterbed could do that with a paper bag and a torque wrench.”

Ricky refused to look, since he had a feeling he didn’t want to know. “So is there any chance you could watch this on the DVD player in your bunk?”

Bo scowled. “We’re demons and this is our tour bus. Humans don’t make the rules.”

“I’m also an invited guest and deserve a little hospitality.”

“We let you have the kitchenette.” Bo turned back to his movie, mumbling, “Humans! Do them one little favor and they think you’ll make a habit of it.”

Ricky returned to his seat at the kitchenette table, wishing Maelstrom was a little more like the bands he was accustomed to managing. If they were human, not only would the game have been on the TV without him having to ask, but he wouldn’t have felt compelled to tour with them in the first place. It was only because they couldn’t be trusted that Ricky felt he had to monitor their every move.

With a sigh, he picked up his BlackBerry and started searching for a website from which to follow the game. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but he’d at least be able to keep up with the score. He was trying to get comfortable on the cushioned banquette when a shadow fell across the table.

“Hey, primate,” Bo said, striking a tough guy pose but refusing to meet his eyes. “I was up late and I’m going to get a little shut-eye. Remote’s on the sofa, if you want it.”

Ricky watched him walk toward his bunk, but knew better than to say a word. Whether this was incubus generosity or just a happy coincidence didn’t matter. He went to the lounge and found the remote resting next to a DVD of The Cheerleader Whores of Lecherous U. Was this Bo’s idea of a joke or was it his tacit way of saying he understood where Ricky was coming from?

Ricky set the DVD aside and started scrolling through the channels, looking for ESPN. Regardless of Bo’s motivations, there was no denying that sometimes he was a damn good sport.

Maelstrom Extra: Venue

2009-02-12T01:25:00.012-06:00

Ricky stepped out of the Lexus and looked around the damp and reeking alleyway. Seeing that Kalila was still peering out the window, he went to the passenger side and opened the door.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” she said.

Ricky helped her out and led her toward a dented blue door. “You can't judge a place by the service entrance.”

Inside, the filthy concrete floor and flickering lights didn’t inspire confidence. They followed a series of hand-lettered paper signs through a confusing warren of rooms and corridors, arriving finally at a small office. Finding it locked, Ricky tried to peer through the grimy window.

“Let’s go,” Kalila said. “I can only imagine what kind of low-life rabble would come here.”

“But you haven’t even seen the club.” Ricky led her down another hall that took them to a dim backstage area disorderly with boxes, cables, electrical cords and empty beer bottles. He found an opening in the stage curtains and held the heavy black drapery aside so she could step through.

In contrast to the cramped disarray of the backstage area, the stage was clean and expansive, its wooden floor in good repair and the lights straightly hung. “It’s more than I would’ve expected, given what’s back there,” Kalila admitted. She walked to the front of the stage and looked out over the dance floor.

Ricky was watching her ponder the dark cavern of a club when he heard footsteps.

The man approaching him was tall and moved with the lanky gracelessness of a wounded giraffe, but the eyes beneath the shock of thick brown hair had a mischievous glint. He shook Ricky’s hand and made apologies for not having greeted them when they first arrived. “Don’t worry about a thing, though,” he said. “Everyone is excited to book you guys and you’ll get star treatment, or as close to it as we can manage.”

They spoke for several minutes, rehashing the terms of the agreement, but Ricky saw nothing new to be gained by the conversation. He had read the contract and was satisfied. It was up to Kalila to validate his efforts, but when he glanced her way, he couldn’t read anything in her face or the lines of her body that suggested what she was thinking.

The manager saw where he was looking and nodded slowly, as if piecing together several things that hadn't made sense before. “Let me talk to her.”

Ricky watched him cross the stage with his odd, loping gait. As he got nearer, the skeptical expression on Kalila’s face changed, and when he arrived at where she was standing, she greeted him enthusiastically.

Ricky waited, mystified, while they talked in low, conspiratorial tones. Finally he went to join them, but as he came within earshot, the manager looked at him and said, “I’d invite you into my office, but it’s kind of a mess. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“What was that about?” Ricky asked, watching him leave. “And what were you two talking about? Do you know him?”

Kalila shook her head sadly. “Oh, Ricky. All this time working for us and you still haven’t figured it out?”

“You’re impossible to figure out. Please just tell me what’s going on. Where did he go?”

“To re-print our contract.”

“But the terms were fine. Why do you insist on changing everything I try to do for you?”

“I don’t try to change everything, and besides, he insisted. The contract you saw was the one he gives to humans. I don’t know how I managed to miss it before, but what else would you expect at a place called Mondschein?”

Ricky didn’t understand and waited for her to continue.

“The manager is a werewolf.” Kalila looked around the dingy club, as excited as if it were Carnegie Hall. “Thanks for booking us here, Ricky. This is going to be one hell of a gig.”