urban-fantasy

Who else is going to do this job? What do you think that classified ad would read like? 'Dangerous job fighting otherworldly beings, no pay, fame or glory. Death possible. Slobber likely. Injuries always. Must distance yourself from family and friends for their protection.'" -- Cheveyo, Beyond the Darkness

Charlie is one of the big good guys in my universe.

But you know me-I'm an information magpie, always interested in shiny bits of intel. I've never gotten in trouble because of knowing too much.

Please remember, there is no such thing as safe sex with a demon.

The room continued to spin though she was standing still, but her ears were hot. She felt like she'd just slammed three doubles of tequila and needed a fistfight chaser.

The brush that is tinder dry from decades of drought, the warming of the earth's climate that sends the storms away north, the hole in the ozone layer. Not punishment, not even justice, but consequence.

Rhiannon Anna Maria Reyes, (Strength 10, Dexterity 14, Stamina 12, Will 17, IQ 16 and Charisma 15 -- Geek 7 / Barista 3 / Screenwriter 2 / Gamer Girl 2) was Bryan__ secret weapon. Rhiannon (known to practically everyone as __ee_) kept the café in fabulous baked goods, talked authoritatively about subjects from Aliens to Zork, and drew the attentions of countless lovelorn geeks.

Are they even capable of love?

She's the queen of the herd." "May I touch her?" "If she'll let you. She doesn't take to strangers well." I took a hesitant step forward and reached out my hand. Terror approached me with confidence, then ducked her muzzle beneath my palm. Once she came closer, for a moment, I feared she was going to trample me. But then she brushed gently against my side. "She wants you to ride her." Jockey looked at me. "This is an honor." All thoughts of bailing out quietly went to hell with that statement. Why not? How often did you get a chance to ride a Night Mare?

Sure, swing your oscillating dick over there, and see how long you last before she runs screaming for the authorities.

Spirits flitted through the red-and-orange sky like leaves blown on the October wind. They dipped and darted over the brownstones and housing projects, swooped around the towering glass palaces, and dove into the crooked alleyways. Sierra smiled. The world had become so much more alive once she learned to see the dead. For a few moments, she just stood there, let herself be a spectator to the ever unfolding drama of city lights and spirits.

See how many doors open, Alastor said, when someone with influence and ideas comes along with a key? Fortune can be hoarded, or it can be shared.

You know all is not well when Hell resorts to outsourcing to close deals made with the Devil. Or in this case, a guy named Stan.

Dunce is completely bald and has a really pointed head so the temptation to get him paralytic on his thirtieth birthday, carry him to the tattooist__ and get a nice big ___ smack bang in the middle of his forehead was too much for me. Trouble is he can__ afford to have it removed so he wears a big plaster over it. Gangs of children tease him.__hat__ underneath the plaster, mister? Show us!__hey swear he has a third eye under there. My name is Bill but Dunce calls me __ez_ on account of my hat. I__e known Dunce for over sixteen years.

From Got Luck --"Tell me why we__e doing this again?_ Erin asked.__emember what we learned from Return of the Jedi?___o. What?___e learned you can be the most powerful sorcerer in the galaxy but if someone grabs you and throws you down an energy shaft, you die like everybody else.

Melody began to mumble incomprehensibly under her breath as she worked frantically on securing her most important papers into bankers boxes. Her father stomped into her room, eating a banana. Melody looked up at him with a sweaty and nauseated look on her face. __hat are you tramping around so heavily about?_ she asked him. Bernie finished the last of the banana, and then held the peel in his hand as though it were a washcloth he had just found on the floor of a gym locker room. Melody pointed to her trashcan with her eyes. __ make an insane amount of noise when I approach you, because you once yelled at me claiming that I was 'sneaking up on you',_ Bernie replied, using finger quotes on the last phrase. __hat kind of treatment stays with a guy._ Melody shook her head. Her father knew how much she hated finger quotes. Why he insisted on using them was beyond her. __ was five at the time_, she said. __h,_ Bernie said, with a knowing grin on his face. __he angry period.

If you want to mimic spoons in a drawer, I promise I won't think anythin' of it." She realized that curling the same way they'd fit much better. She sighed. "Okay, but I get to be the big spoon. I don't want to accidentally bump into your..." "Knife?" he supplied.

After centuries of silence, someone or something was lying outside on the stone step . . . __re you deaf?_ Death asked arriving abruptly with screams and cries and a fetid smell of rotting matter filling the room.__hy are you here?_ the Old Crone asked, knowing the answer before she asked the question. __o away.___hen someone knocks you__e supposed to open the door!_ Death said, coughing as though she had swallowed a lot of water.__hat are you doing here?_ the Old Crone asked again __nd why are you amorphous? Show yourself! I don__ like it when you look like nothing at all.___pen the door!_ Death rasped, appearing as a drowned cat coughing up minnows and river detritus. __ur future depends upon it!