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: Monster Tour
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
reviews (Comments): 10
Posted by
Maelstrom
Maelstrom Extra: Eye of the Beholder
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
reviews (Comments): 8
Posted by
Maelstrom
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!.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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!.
Maelstrom Extra: Nostalgia
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
reviews (Comments): 10
Posted by
Maelstrom
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!.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“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: Nothing But Trouble
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
reviews (Comments): 7
Posted by
Maelstrom
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!.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
reviews (Comments): 11
Posted by
Ann (bunnygirl)
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!
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!
Maelstrom Extra: Non-Standard Deviation
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
reviews (Comments): 8
Posted by
Maelstrom
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.
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?
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
reviews (Comments): 9
Posted by
Maelstrom
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.”
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
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
reviews (Comments): 10
Posted by
Maelstrom
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.”
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: Coming Clean
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
reviews (Comments): 12
Posted by
Maelstrom
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.”
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: Amperage
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
reviews (Comments): 7
Posted by
Maelstrom
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."
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: Order: Chiroptera
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
reviews (Comments): 6
Posted by
Ann (bunnygirl)
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.
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
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
reviews (Comments): 4
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Maelstrom
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.
“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
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
reviews (Comments): 10
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Maelstrom
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.
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
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
reviews (Comments): 10
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Maelstrom
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.
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 Extra: A Relaxing Cup of Tea
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
reviews (Comments): 10
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Maelstrom
“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.
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
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
reviews (Comments): 5
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Maelstrom
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.
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
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
reviews (Comments): 6
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Maelstrom
“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.”
“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
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
reviews (Comments): 6
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Maelstrom
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.”
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
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
reviews (Comments): 5
Posted by
Maelstrom
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."
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
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
reviews (Comments): 5
Posted by
Maelstrom
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.
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.
