Book Review!

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

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

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!

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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!

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

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

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

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?

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

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

“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

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.”