1 comment on "Stalker; studio; excerpt"

Finally caught up with all my DVR’d episodes of Stalker. Seriously, I am obsessed with the show, pun intended. It’s one of those dramas that you want to catch from the first episode, and it’s a great show for mainlining–binge-watch it, it’ll hit all your taste buttons.

WARNING: There is a bit of a creep factor due to the whole stalking thing, so if you’re easily triggered, it might not be for you. Still, Beth’s backstory keeps me coming back for more. I cannot wait to see what happens next.

*

A cool thing: my dad is talking about putting together an outdoor studio for me. Sure, it will probably be a bit slapped together, because, you know, it’s us, but it’s still a very nice gesture and I find myself a bit excited. There’s a big chance that nothing will come of it, but if he really does follow through…

It will be nice to have somewhere to put together my paper crafts and store my supplies. The biggest drawback of living here is that I’m surrounded by smokers. There are some days when I feel like I’ve rolled around in an ashtray and I can’t help thinking that people can smell me from a mile away.

So to have a place of my own where I can do my work… It will change everything.

I will remain hopeful.

*

Title: Faizel II
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: vampire, mm, urban fantasy, dark fic
Summary: Charlemagne loves Faizel. Faizel is fond of Charlemagne. And Ewing feels like he’s watching a train wreck happen in slow motion.

EXCERPT:

“This is a nice place. You’re not worried someone’s going to find out I’m your dirty little secret?” There was a teasing bite to Faizel’s tone, one that made Ewing fight back a wince.

He’d been around enough couple-fights to recognize the warning signs. The minute someone threw a plate, he was leaving. Charlemagne was his friend, not his boss. Not yet anyway, an inner voice murmured, but he pretended not to hear it.

“I hate that I can’t show you the world as I would wish,” Charlemagne said. “You are what is most important to me. I want the world to know that I love you. But it’s too dangerous. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I promise you, I won’t be the one hurting,” Faizel said.

Ewing stared at his napkin, pretending to be enthralled by the micro-weave of the linen. Couple-fights were bad enough, but heartfelt romance was almost worse. He wouldn’t have felt as much like an interloper if he was watching them have sex–that was just master vampire exhibitionism. He’d learned how to pretend that he was watching, while really visualizing a play-by-play of his last quest in his favorite RPG.

There was no pretending to be far away when he could hear the emotion in Charlemagne’s voice. He could see that mask of a pleasant expression that Charlemagne wore, but he was also close enough to see the honest love shining in those blue eyes. It hurt to see Charlemagne be so naked, and have the subject of all that emotion be Faizel.

Ewing didn’t trust Faizel not to break Charlemagne just because he could. Yet he couldn’t say anything either, because Charlemagne was in no state of mind to listen. All Ewing could do was alienate his friend, and that wasn’t a direction he wanted things to go.

He’d decided that he would keep an eye on Faizel to make sure he wasn’t hurting Charlemagne. Unless he saw some active abuse, he wasn’t going to step in. No matter how creepy he thought Faizel was.

The best thing that he could do was to bite his tongue. He just worried that he was going to end up biting it clear off. Because while he thought Faizel was a scary vampire-eating monster, Charlemagne would never hear a word against him.

It was a relief when the waiter returned with their food. It gave Ewing something to focus on as he ignored the romantic love story unfolding in front of him. He tried not to imagine that he was watching the true life story of Mickey and Mallory Knox if they happened to be vampires.

My life has gotten strange, he thought, tasting a bright blue foam that exploded with flavor when he touched it to his tongue. But at least the food is good.

/EXCERPT

Curious to meet Faizel? Check out Faizel I on Smashwords or Amazon. It’s $0.99, yo.

Witch King at Amazon
0 comments on "News of the World"

There are currently plans afoot for what I think are some truly awesome things. At the very least, I am enthused.

*

I really have to start taking pictures, though I’ve been holding off a bit so I can practice my different crafty things. I probably shouldn’t be so shy about it, but I am. I’ll have to force myself to get the camera out. (But I’ll try.)

The only thing I’m really scared of is that I’m going to suck. I’ve dreamed my whole life of being one of those arty people that can pick up a pen and make something beautiful. I feel like I’ve found a way to express that desire in a workable way, but it would kill me if I’m not any good at it.

I still remember how awful it was to discover that I can’t paint.

There are kindergartners that can paint better than me. I didn’t realize how bad I was at painting until I bought all kinds of acrylic paints and brushes. I don’t want to go through that nightmare again.

*

Money I’ve spent so far on the current project: $300. There’s so many tools and supplies I still need to get, so I’ve been focusing on the smaller pieces. They’re not turning out quite how I want them to be, so I’m praying I didn’t just throw that money away. I would seriously cry.

*

I’ve also been writing a script for this little thing I’m working on. (I’m not talking about the Ren’Py game; that’s been set aside until mid-March. I still can’t get the Android extension to work, which is a bit of a puzzler.) It’s a video we’re putting together for our YouTube channel. We haven’t gotten to the point of making sets yet, so it’s going to be a while yet, but I’m really getting into this show.

*

Title: Tuesday Night
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: superhero sci-fi

EXCERPT:

So right now, examining the scene that was Triangle Park, Seth felt his focus tightening. This could be for all the marbles, and he refused to be the one to fuck things up.

“Good luck,” he breathed.

“You too,” Tony said.

Then they were moving in opposite directions, Seth headed toward the swan-topped fountain, Tony toward the gazebo. If they survived, they were to meet up past the East Gate on the far end of the park. If they didn’t survive… well, then they’d be dining in Valhalla and none of this mattered anyway.

There were drones moving around the big tent. Carrying planks of wood and coils of wire, tromping around in their own little world. Seth was glad not to be noticed.

He stayed to the peripherals, moving amongst the trees. He wanted to use the cover as long as possible before he was forced to expose himself. He felt like he had a target painted on his skin. One drone catching sight of him too soon and everything would be over.

As he walked, he dropped tiny thumbtack charges. Unless they were being shoved into a keyhole to blow the lock on a door, they were mostly a popping firecracker sound and a bit of light. But they could be activated with a simple remote, and he figured a bit of distraction would do him good.

Ghosting amongst the trees, he set the camera on his helm to 360-degrees and hoped it was recording everything. No matter what happened, Overwatch would appreciate the enemy intel. Even if they got it from a satellite transmission after he was already dead.

He knelt down to pile the last of the thumbtack charges on the ground and smoothed a handful of loose dirt on top of them.

He wasn’t looking to start a fire, but the surrounding brush was dry and he could hope a little. It would make the perfect distraction while he made his getaway.

/EXCERPT

Kakushigoto 01 at Amazon
0 comments on "Why can’t I ever win?"

There are times when I have to wonder how my father can be such an idiot. It seems as though he tries his hardest to be the worst kind of parent ever, then he wonders why people get enraged and hateful toward him.

The Kid came back from his father with a laser pointer, something I didn’t like the idea of and disapproved of, but it was something that he had. It was his.

My brother lectured the Kid, my father lectured the Kid, really drawn out and hysterical yammerings about people being blinded by laser pointers and dogs losing their minds and all kinds of drama. And after weeks and weeks of listening to the constant lectures, somewhere in there the laser pointer disappeared and was — for a time — forgotten.

Until today. When the Kid went on a desperate search for it. And unable to find it, he asked my dad if he’d seen it. And my dad admitted that he’d found it in the living room and taken it away. He wasn’t going to give it back because it was too dangerous and the Kid wasn’t responsible enough and… and… and…

By the end of it, I spent the next two hours calming the Kid down and getting equilibrium back in the house, while my dad played on his computer and took a nap. And after it was all done, the Kid had finally let things go and was willing to move on. Things were okay.

By the time 6 pm rolled around, the Kid and I were watching a movie and he was talking to me again. He’d come to accept the fact that the laser pointer was taken away and he wasn’t getting it back. Things were done.

So of course my father had to come out of his computer room with the laser pointer and start talking about “I’m gonna give this back to you on the understanding that you’re going to…” blahdy blahdy blahdy. And I had to step in and say No, don’t give it back. Because I was already tired of the lecturing and the yelling and the general misery of it all.

I didn’t want the Kid to have the laser pointer in the first place. It disappeared and I was relieved. The Kid was angry at me for agreeing with my dad about him not having it, but he’d started to get over it. The decision had been made, he’s a good kid, it was over and done with.

So of course my father had to blow the whole situation up. Because that’s what he does. Whenever things are smoothed over and quiet, he steps in and releases a bomb into the room just because, then retreats back to safety where he doesn’t have to deal with the anger and the tears and the resentment.

And now I’m the bad guy. Again.

An Elderly Lady is Up to No Good at Amazon