Mail Chimp

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Has the Online Conspiracy Scene Been Co-Opted?

Of course it has. Anyone familiar with, say, Mockingbird, knows that this is just as logical as the feds co-opting the media. And that's common knowledge, for those who think. See, for example, the CIA's office at CNN, or Anderson Cooper's admitted CIA ties.

This has been sort of a hobby of mine since before the Internet. I used to study every book on the JFK assassination that I could get my hand on. And early Internet conspiracy research was a vast, fascinating wonderland. There was a lot of wide-eyed alien and UFO-related crap, but there were also fabulously fascinating things about things like Silent Weapons for Quiet Wars, AIDS, etc. You had to be discerning when reading these things, and have the ability to separate the wheat from the chaff.

Looking at the Internet now, it's pretty obvious that, while there is an even larger community now, the entire scene is pretty heavily controlled from within. Ain't that some shit?

Want some examples?

85% of the entire online conspiracy scene is Alex Jones. He runs Prison and, with millions of hits each month. Alex Jones is a bit of a Chicken Little, using his pulpit for fear-mongering, and often urging people to violent revolution. A bit like the FBI-backed racist Hal Turner. Furthermore, Alex Jones has admitted that half of his family are CIA connected. Curiously, Alex Jones avoids any discussion of Zionism in regard to world affairs. Odd, that, when it's a big part of normal N.W.O. discussions. is another long-time conspiracy site. It's a real mixed bag, with lots of UFO stuff mixed in with virulently racist articles, making it easy for many to dismiss any valid stories they might happen to publish.

Michael Rivero's is a pretty good link aggregator. It mainly assembles news stories from around the world, both mainstream and underground. It does often veer into vaguely anti-Semitic rhetoric at times. But there's another curious quirk at work here. Michael Rivero insists that a 767 hit the Pentagon on 9/11, despite zero evidence, and a ton of evidence indicating the opposite.

Then there are the message board sites. and seem to be the biggest around. Having studied them in depth recently, I noticed a few odd things about them as well.

Above Top Secret recently hosted an "Ask Me Anything" with Lt. Col. Michael Aquino. As many long-time researchers know, Satanist/Setian Aquino was tied to the Presidio and McMartin-Buckey child sex scandal. Curiously, this subject is never raised in the AMA... Just wow. The majority of the posters seem to be doing damage control for the government.

Something else that was very telling was the reaction on ATS and GLP when the congressional stenographer made a remark about Freemasonry and Godlessness. While you would think conspiracy sites would be all over this, instead, she was mainly mocked as a Christian, and Freemasonry was defended. This even extends to Alex Jones' site, which called her diatribe "bizarre". Really, Alex? This is the bread and butter of conspiracy theory.

I think that collectively, these sites are both a pressure valve, providing entertainment for the conspiracy set, and a great place to introduce disinformation. And the huge amount of scare-mongering that never seems to actually come true tends to taint all information on the sites, valid or not. It's also a great way to collect info on every anti-government activist in the U.S.

Conspiracy theory used to be an exercise in intellectualism. Since the scene has grown, the overall quality of the research has declined. Even conspiracy theory is a conspiracy, and I think that's awesome.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Nerdapalooza Quest 2013 - Album Review

I am not giving you the backstory on nerdcore here. B-Type is a rapper and producer from the UK who wants to perform at this big nerdcore show in Orlando, FL, so he's released this "pay what you want" compilation album to help pay for it. A noble gesture, and one he hopes you'll return.

There are thirty tracks, many of them quite good. I'm just going to mention some of them.

The first, appropriately enough, is by B-Type himself, "Party Robot". And, oh, yeah, B is a British MC. I sort of forgot about that somehow. I don't really dig British MCs. I never even listened to The Streets. I like that sort of thing best in small doses, like on The Shamen's albums. But, to his credit, what he does is pretty listenable, and also nicely nerdy. The track itself is classic nerdcore, instrumentally, and sets the tone for the rest of the compilation.

Next up is The Great Divide, by Dual Core. I love the instrumental, which is a slow dubsteppy track. Intense The MCing is sort of frantic but cool. The whole thing is utterly dominated by the instrumental, though, and that's not too bad, in this case. Cause I love the instrumental. I'm not "down" with the latest "lingo", but I think this officially makes DJ Roborob a "beast".

"Digital Nightmares" by Equivox is pretty amazing. I guess this qualifies as chiptunes? It's an instrumental that would be a great soundtrack for an R-Type style shooter, preferably on the Amiga. But to call it mere videogame soundtrack music is to do it a huge disservice. It's actually more like a video game itself, if that makes any sense. The music actually does a great job of making you actually see the game in question. While the graphics are supplied by you, the actions of the game are well described by the music. There is simulated laser fire and explosions. Not sounds effects, but the music implies such things. So it's overall subtle and compelling. They're really packing a lot into a three-minute instrumental, conceptually. Bravo. 

Breakbeat Heartbeat 's "Breath" is a slower, non-techno instrumental. It's vaguely Asian in feel. A bit repetitive  but it did make for nice background music as I wrote the previous review. Excellent video game music, though.
"Palette" by Skin Walker comes pretty hard. Very Octomed/Tracker in feel, it's bouncy and varied. The bridge is wild. I really like this track. It's hardcore. I could dance to this, but people might get hurt.
SK8BIT - "Thats What You Get" (Paramore Remix). Couldn't do it. Not a fan of Paramore, and I couldn't listen to enough of it to say anything about the instrumetal aspect of it, and I never heard the original, so I can't comment on the remix aspect. Great if you like upbeat, female vocals in your techno. Just not my thing.
Superpowerless - "My Dinosaur". Ha! I've got this bastard now. Oliver is one of these scene cats that just makes everyone sick. Everything he touches is golden. He's made some insanely good tracks, is immensely popular, by most accounts good-looking, a phenominal artist and humorist with an ever-growing following. And I think he dated fanatical? We all love him so much we hate him. Yes, I can speak for everyone, here. That's why I am ELATED to say I don't like this track very much. Fuck. That's what I was going to write. But I'm listening to it again because I need to write this review. And it's grown on me. It'd be perfect on college radio. Hell, it would make a good intro to cartoon on PBS. Bah, you bastard, Oliver. You have a weak point, somewhere. I'll find it. A perfect example of someone who would have been snapped up by a label back in the days when there were record labels.

On the other hand, I wanted to like Ham-Star's "Moral Turpitude" more than I did. Of course, it's a sort of niggling complaint I have with it, anyway. I don't mind the somewhat tinny backing track. This is kind of like a white kid "Nature of the Threat", in feel and conceptually, to a lesser degree. The flow is cool, the lyrics are an example of Ham-Star's command of the lsnguage. I like what he's saying, furthermore. I just don't think the track got as extreme as it could have. He even makes note of this in one of the last verses. Since it's all about moral outrageous of the past, it feels a bit like preaching to the converted. I'd like to have had it tackle controversial issues of today, as well, for maximum impact. I would almost compare this to Consolidated, except it's not whiny and annoying. 

8bit Duane - "Party In Space" (feat. Shammers and B​-​Type) is great. It's just a fun party track, and the backing instrumental is sort of subdued. A lot of clever lyrics.

And that's just a few of the whopping 30 tracks included. This is a great compilation, especially if you're not a nerdcore snob and also like non-hip-hop nerd music. I gotta hand it to B-Type for helping to keep the nerd music scene alive. 

I should also mention that Torrentz, a crew in part also from the UK, are trying to get to NPLZA, and have a compilation effort of their own, toward the same end. My man Milk Plus.

Best of luck to all involved. Nerdapalooza looks to be massive this year. 

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

"World War Z" (the book!) Review

Just wow. This book is really amazing.

The author is way beyond intelligent. I can't imagine a more interesting zombie novel. It's written as a series of interviews in a post zombie holocaust scenario, international in scope. The amount of research that's gone into it is readily apparent. It takes you from China, to South Africa, Japan, the International Space Station, and beyond, slowly building a global view of the events, and their aftermath.

In fact, this novel sort of makes me want to see it happen. Yes, millions of people die, maybe more. But it's sort of like Reagan (whom I'm not particularly a fan of) said. The world will unite against a common enemy.

Each little piece of the book taken alone is fascinating. But the big picture it paints is even more inspiring. Along the way, there is plenty of geopolitical commentary. It actually paints xenophobia in a positive light, with Israel and Cuba, for example, behaving in surprising ways.

The standard zombie fare is in there, as well, with lots of grisly and action-packed moments full of tension. It's also full of heroes, and two enemies: the zombies, and ourselves. A top-notch book, from start to finish. Read it!

Monday, July 15, 2013

My Final Poem

I hate the moon, now
Despise it
For it reminds me of failure
And my lost love
Wretched lunar sphere
Full or crescent
Waxing or waning
It is the shape
Of a broken heart...

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Short Story - All The Time In The World

Abraham Kochinsky had had enough. Life just wasn't working for him anymore. The dream was dying, or perhaps had already died.

He'd spent the first half of his fifty-odd years aimless, for the most part. Following his bliss, as they say. But bliss, he had found, was fleeting. The things that had once made him happy no longer did. In fact, they depressed the everliving fuck out of him. 

Working was working. He was never lucky enough to find solace in laboring to earn a living. The world defined men largely by their work, and the subsequent earnings it brought. Women, although a joy much of the time, led to further disappointments. You only needed to break a heart once, and have your own broken, before you could lose your taste for romance. Which is what led him to his current ennui.

Along the way, he picked up writing. It was writing, ultimately, that ruined his life.

He endured the first ten years like a soldier. He had been taught that being an author was largely a story of rejection, and had steeled himself for it. Eventually, he was inured to the rejections from editors and agents, most of them stock replies. He survived by telling himself that he was good, but the market wasn't ready for his style of storytelling. Cliche piled upon cliche. He had the wall of letters from publishers telling him, in so many words, that he wasn't quite good enough to be published. 

For a long while, even that was a badge of honor. Eventually, his optimistic philosophy lost its effectiveness at staving away depression.

Then the self-publishing revolution took hold. Suddenly, he was in an admirable position. He had skills, and a huge back catalog of unpublished work, free and clear. He set about getting his books online. True, he made many mistakes, initially. But he was convinced of the quality of his work. It was all just a matter of time and effort, he told himself.

Another few years of this, and his hope had again faded. He had a few fans, and some reviews that one could be proud of. But commercial success continued to elude him. There was never enough time to do all that he needed to do, trying to juggle work and writing. It was overwhelming.

He felt foolish. Again. A writer writing about a writer writing was hackneyed. Done to death. No one really wanted to read it. Especially other writers, who had once commiserated with him, drinking from the same cup of sorrows.

He braced himself with a few shots of rotgut, and fingered his three-eighty, waiting for his courage and resolve to kick in. Finally, he walked to the station house down the street, smiling with genuine kindness at neighbors and passers-by.

Moving as though in a dream, he shot the cop working as desk clerk right in the nose, opening up a fist-sized hole that exploded like a water balloon. With a cheery expression on his face, he took out the first officer to respond with a double-tap to the heart and throat.

Then he was engulfed in blackness, shot from behind. Textbook suicide by cop.

When he awoke, much to his dismay, he was in a prison hospital. His greatest hopes had been realized, in part. He was famous. But he had wanted to die. 

At least he could fully devote himself to the craft, though. Now he had all the time in the world.

Friday, May 31, 2013

Penultimate Hustle: L.A. - Chapter Seven

7 – Growth

Back at the office, Janique leapt into Chris's arms and kissed him with fervor. She reeked of sex and happiness.

Someone had a good day,” he said. “What did you do?”

Bought a print shop.”

What a coincidence. I bought you a computer store,” he said, smiling.

She hugged him tighter. “Really?”

Yep. I had to offer him ten percent over market value, but it's between the lawyers, now.”

Wow. It's all coming together.” She sighed. “Wait'll I tell the girls.”

But they had already discovered Natalia's completed bedroom set, and were engaged in a giggling pillow fight. Laughter emanated from their room as they began a second, happier childhood.

Chris squeezed her hand. “Mommy,” he said.

Oh, daddy. Which reminds me. I want to talk to you about something. But let's review this footage, first.”

He threaded the projector, and they cuddled on their new couch, watching each reel in turn.

So what do you think?” she asked him when they had finished.

Well, it's hot, I admit. Mostly because of you and the girls. But it's a different sort of hot, in part. I like it, ultimately.”

She beamed at his approval. “I only regret that it's so short. I know we were talking about hour-long tapes.”

Yeah, but we have four different angles to work with. With a little judicious editing, we can get forty-five minutes out of it.”

Do you really think so?” Both of them hated camera trickery, like reusing shots or flipping them horizontally to double their length.

I can already see it in my head. To make up the difference, we'll use previews, and we can film a disclaimer-type intro.”

That sounds like fun. Can we do do that now?”

Of course, angel.”

They set up a camera, framed the shot, and then removed their shirts. Then they ad-libbed on the spot.

Hi, this is Chris.”

And I'm Janique.”

We have a lot of wild sex.”

Crazy, rough, acrobatic sex.”

But we're also in love.”

Madly in love.”

And we're trained professionals.”

Everything we do is consensual.”

Even when it looks like it's not.”

So if you're going to try and do what we do.”

Do it with someone you love.”

And if you can't...”

Please wear a stupid condom.”

Don't hurt anyone.”

Unless they ask you to.”

Most of all.”

Have fun!”

Chris grabbed Janique and kissed her with heartfelt passion, then shut off the camera.

That was sweet,” Janique said. “But it's only a minute long.”

We'll pad it with legal stuff. Proof of age statement, custodian of records. I have a feeling it will be mandatory in a few years, anyway.”

Cover your ass.”

Movie title,” Chris replied, and she laughed. “We don't want another Tokio situation.”

That's for sure. We should check on Payback's progress.”

I'm sure he'll let us know if something happens.”

They got dressed with some reluctance, and went to talk to Janice.

Hey, kids,” she said. “You two look happy.”

Really happy,” Janique said. “I'm afraid we spent eight-hundred thousand dollars, though.”

Naughty, naughty. Good investments?”

The best. They're both solvent, and ideal locations to run girls out of.”

Let me guess. The print shop?”


That is shrewd, Janique. Beverly Hills runs on the backs of beautiful young girls.”

I know, right?”

On a related note, I ran the ad. You should soon have more clients than you can, uh-”

Shake your dick at?” Janique said.

Well said."

"You're the best, Janice.”

Thank you, ma'am. I know. I also took got the numbers of the three biggest porn distributors in the world, as you asked. The best offers sixty-thousand per finished hour. All three are waiting on footage.”

Do you mean to tell me that we made, what, almost a quarter million dollars just goofing around this week?” Chris asked.

Subject to their approval, yes. Although I feel compelled to point out that you spent three times that much on investments. Money well spent, in my opinion. But don't lose sight of the bottom line.”

Movie title!” Janique said. Janice nearly blushed. “But I think we can do better.”


I want to work with Payback on the terms. I also want points.”

Very astute. I'll draft something and pass it along to him. I think we can make that work.”

The money is obviously going to be a lot to deal with. Can you recommend an accountant and financial planner?”

I wouldn't do this for anyone else, Janique, but I can give you a referral to my own. They've been in business for over a hundred years, and have never steered me wrong.”

Are you really that old?” Janique asked with a smirk.

Janice, I could kiss you,” Chris said.

No, sir, you cannot. But I'm glad to help. When you incorporate, I should like stock options.”

You are just full of good advice,” Janique said.

Anybody here?” said a voice in the hall. Dana and Brad had arrived with the computer delivery.

When Chris entered the corridor, Dana dropped the box of cables he was holding.

Hey! That's the guy who threatened to pistol-whip me!

What?” Brad said.

Oh, Dana. Chris was just playing around. Weren't you, Chris?”

Oh, sure,” he said.

Chris would never hurt anyone.”

He tried to smile, but the thought of the people he'd killed, and the arms and kneecaps he'd broken made it more of a pained and unconvincing grimace. The moment was saved by the girls, who swarmed the two computer salesman.

Hey, Brad and Dana,” said a chorus of voices.

Girls, I need to talk to Brad. Show Dana your new room,” Janique said pointedly.

Ooh, come see,” Lateesha said, taking him by the hand.

Brad, we're buying the store. Would you like to work for us?”

You mean, at the store?”

No, silly. I mean here. You're too talented to be a mere shopkeeper. Sure, you can oversee operations, there. But I'm talking about being our technical consultant. And also developing hardware and software.”

Dana walked back out as they were talking, looking flushed and disheveled.

Janique, I'd be a fool to say no.”

Especially once you learned that the position pays a quarter-million a year to start...”

Fuck Brad, what about Dana?” Dana said.

Not to mention a generous R & D budget...”

Fuck Brad, what about Dana?” he repeated.

Dana, go unload the truck, please,” Brad said, annoyed.

When he was out of earshot and into the elevator, Brad said, “Look, my brother's sort of a screw-up. I can't just abandon him. I'm afraid I can't accept if it means he'll lose his job at the store. And without me, he'll never make it, there.”

Well, what can he do, besides run a cash register and be a goofball?”

That's the thing. Being a goofball is all he's really good at. He's a comedy writer, and he does a little stand-up and improv.”

I may be able to use him, then. We'd still have to audition him.”

Please keep him off camera. No one wants to see that.”

Janique laughed. “Not like that. I mean, he'd have to write a test script for me.”

Pornos have scripts?”

I don't want to do bog-standard porn. I want funny, exciting art pieces. At least occasionally.”

Well, dependent on how he does, I guess, I accept.”

Janique kissed him on the cheek, and he looked nervously to Chris, who, rather than being angry, betrayed a hint of a smile.

Wonderful,” she said. “Welcome aboard.”

I'm going to help him unload,” Brad said.

Great. I'll talk to him about it today. Or, Chris will, rather. They need to be friends for it to work.”

Brad joined Dana downstairs, and Janique said, “Well, can you work with another writer?”

Yeah, I think I'd like that. Comedy is not my strong suit.”

And not pistol-whip him?”

Chris smiled. “I'll do my best.”

You always do. Reason four-hundred and fifty-six of why I love you so much.”

Penultimate Hustle: L.A. - Chapter Six

6 – Perfection

Janique held the door open and the girls walked in, forming a vee ahead of her. Already, she loved her entourage. They were a sexy little female gang. The shop was quiet and empty, and the proprietor's eyes bulged at the sight of them. But he played it cool, as though this sort of thing happened every day.

Hi,” she said. “I need five thousand cards on your priciest stock. Black, with gold embossed lettering, in this distribution.”

He accepted the list with the text she wanted, and she found herself amused at the sight as his eyes grew wider still.

Wow,” he said. “Ordinarily, I'd caution you about ordering so many at once, but you seem, uh, very confident. Let me see what it'll cost.”

He forced himself to focus on his adding machine for a moment, and eventually said, “Eight-hundred and fifty-six dollars. My name's Romeo Montague, by the way.”

Romeo Montague? Seriously?”

Yeah. Montague's my family name, and I guess my parents thought it would be funny. I'm not much of a Casanova though, to mix metaphors."

Janique laughed. “How long would it take?”

This number? Oh, three days.”

We can make it an even thousand. Two days.” She had no pressing need to get them that quickly, but she was enjoying the power play.

I'd have to work overtime, but I think I can do that. I work alone,” he added.

An idea formed in her head, but she resisted the urge to announce it too soon.

Well, I can give you cash, or-”

How'd you like to fuck the shit out of us, instead?” Mia said, shamelessly.

Romeo's facade crumbled, and his face went pale, and then bright red.

Gee, I don't know. I need the money, and Julie'd kill me.”

Your wife's name is Julie? Close enough, I guess,” Janique said. “Do you have any kids?”

He nodded. “Yep. Pride and Joy.”

That's their names?”


Very cool. So what do you say?”

I'm torn. It's a very, uh, tempting offer. I mean, I love my wife...”

But she doesn't get down like the porno bitches, right?”

Right,” he admitted.

Well, we do get down like the porno bitches. And we're very discreet. Does she ever come here?”

No, she hates the shop. She wants me to spend more time with her and the girls. But the sales just aren't there to hire anyone, and I don't trust anyone to run the place, anyway.”

I might be able to offer a solution. And I can promise you the best sex you've ever had. Right now.”

He caved, and moved to lock the door. “We Romeos do have high libidos...”

Wait. You don't mess with nasty street whores, do you? Escorts, maybe?” Janique asked.

Me? No way. I could never cheat on my wife.”

Well, this isn't cheating. It's business. Girls, set up the cameras.” she commanded, and they scrambled to set up tripods near the back of the room.

Cameras?” Romeo gulped in apprehension. He was afraid he was getting himself into a blackmail situation.

Company policy. Otherwise, it's prostitution. And I need you to sign a release form.”

I don't know about all this,” he admitted.

Does Julie watch porn?”


Some women are like that. It's an insecurity or something. But at least you know she'll never see it. Anyway, do we have a deal?” She proffered the release form.

Romeo sighed, defeated by his desires. “Yes.” He scrawled his name on the form.

I'll need a copy of your driver's license, too.”

Driver's license?” He looked up, and Janique had her tits out. “No problem.”

Ready, girls?” she called out.

Yes, mommy,” Gia said. “We're rolling.”

'Come on, Romeo. Let's see if you can live up to your name.” She led him by the hand to the center of the three cameras the girls had arranged, and pulled her own handheld from her bag.

Strip,” she told the four of them. He hesitated, and Janique grew annoyed. “For fuck's sake. This is not the time and place for modesty. We don't care about what kind of shape you're in.”

The girls disrobed, and then help him finish taking off his clothes.

Ever fuck a black girl?” Lateesha whispered in his ear.

Romeo shook his head no.

The girls tried not to look disappointed at his somewhat undersized dick, which had grown hard, despite the stress and pressure of the situation. Mia and Gia knelt in front of him, taking turns swallowing his cock and licking his balls. When Lateesha tried to spread and lick his ass, he panicked.

What are you doing?”

Relax,” Janique said, getting some nice shots of the action. This was good, she thought. It had pathos.

He did, and Lateesha tried again. But the moment she touched him with her tongue, he pulled out of Gia's mouth and squirted on the carpet.

Bad Romeo!” Janique scolded. “I ought to make you lick it up.” Something about him brought out her dominant side, one that she ordinarily reserved for females. “On your hands and knees, worm.”

Powerless, he did as she told him. Janique slipped out of her clothes single-handedly, laid down in front of him, and spread her legs, continuing to film. “Now eat my pussy,” she said. He was more than happy to oblige.

Mia and Gia got on their backs and slid under him, and Lateesha licked his ass and balls from behind. Apparently, that was her thing. They all began to get into it again, when he came a second time. The twins devoured it, and then complained.

Mommy, he came again,” Mia said, disappointed.

This was going nowhere fast.

Spank his fucking ass, girls,” she told them, changing her approach.

Janique rose and stood in front of him, looking down at him both figuratively and literally. The girls paddled him with delight, and she was unsurprised to see that he had already regained his erection.

Romeo, you're going to stick your dick in each of my girls before we go. Do you understand me?”

Yes, ma'am,” he said meekly.

The three lined lined up on their hands and knees, and Janique moved him behind Lateesha, who was on the left this time. She guided his cock into her and urged him on. “Fuck her hard,” she said, and he did his best to follow orders. After a minute or so, Janique made him pull out and she cleaned the delicious taste off of him.

Next,” she said, and moved him to Mia, repeating the process. When he had finally reached Gia, Romeo couldn't take any more. Three strokes later, and he came all over her 'Perfection' tattoo. Lateesha and Mia lapped it up for the cameras, and then snowballed each other, before spitting it all into Gia's mouth.

For shame, Romeo,” Janique said. “I was going to let you fuck me, next.”

I don't think I could handle it,” he admitted, and laid back, panting and exhausted.

Professionals to the end, the girls switched off the cameras and pulled towels from their bags. They dried the sweat from his body, and the twins laid on either side of him and cuddled as he caught his breath. To Romeo, that was the best part. He nearly cried at their gentleness and consideration.

I want to buy the shop,” Janique announced unexpectedly.

He raised his head to look at her. The girls moved to get dressed and pack up the gear.
I'm listening,” he said. At that point, he would have given it to her.

I propose a lump sum buy-out arrangement, and I'll retain you as a consultant. You can train some of my people, and draw a salary. Not to mention,” she said, “you can have sex with one of them every week.”

Romeo was stunned, but he knew a good deal when he heard one. It was too enticing to pass up.

Deal,” he said without thinking.

Great. Now you can spend more time at home, and get away when you need to.”

This is like a dream come true. How could I say no?”

Please,” she said. “It's what I do. This place is about to become Beverly Hills' best kept secret. Girls, tell Mr. Romeo goodbye.”

Each delivered him an open-mouthed kiss, and walked out without a word.

We'll be in touch,” Janique called out over her shoulder.

At the curb, they found the cabbie waiting for them.

San Fernando?” he asked with a grin.

Penultimate Hustle: L.A. - Chapter Five, Part Two

While Natalia and her minions worked on redecorating, Janique reviewed the existing footage to determine how much usable video she had so far. It was hot stuff, for sure. Mia and Gia were naturals on camera, and had been proven to do pretty much anything. Lateesha's bathroom sodomy was an intense vignette, but had only lasted about twenty minutes or so.

Still, she had about three hours of footage, all told. Enough to advance her plans, she decided, but she needed more. Janique realized that the spontaneous nature of the encounters were part of what made them so enticing, and set about devising more scenarios.

But before she could move forward, there was business to attend to. Always business. She loved the act of creation, and enjoyed being hands-on, but had decided that she needed to offload as much of the day to day drudgery as possible. Too much of her energy was being diverted to the details of running things, and interfered with her art.

She walked into Janice's office, and the receptionist (office manager, she reminded herself) quickly put away the yellow legal pad she was writing on.

Hey, Janice. Whatcha doin'?”

Oh, just some creative writing. For a little critique circle I'm a part of.”

Cool!. Looks, I think we need nametags and business cards. Do you have a printer you can recommend?”

Indeed, madame.” Janice consulted her personal Dayrunner and wrote down the name and address of a company she used for manuscripts. “Romeo should be able to provide anything you need.”

Romeo? That's hilarious.”

Oh, it gets better. I won't spoil it for you.”

Perfection Printing. Nice. In Beverly Hills, no less.”

They do a lot of high-end business work. Business cards are his specialty. He also does run-offs of scripts for a lot of major studios.”

Excellent. I'm going to work out exactly what I need, and then take the girls on a little field trip.”

Do you need anything from me while you're away?”

Oh, just keep an eye on Natalia. Don't let her smoke in the office.”

Janice smiled. “I don't think that will be a problem.”

Janique returned to her desk and began to work out what her cards needed on them. A smile crossed her own face when she came up with the phrase “Private Independent Movie Producer”. P.I.M.P. She loved it. The fact that she had started a completely legal escort service wasn't enough. She wanted to run the authorities' noses in it.

She went through the racks of her own costumes and selected three schoolgirl outfits for Mia, Gia, and Lateesha, and one for herself that suggested a principal or headmaster.

Janique found them involved in the process of setting up their bedroom, and distracting Natalia's movers tremendously.

Get dressed,” she told them. “We're going shopping.”

The girls squealed with delight.

And leave your panties and bras here,” she added.

She changed with them, and the sight of all that firm young flesh made her indescribably horny. The schoolgirl outfits from Japan only heightened the effect. One advantage she had in sticking with a particular body type, so far, was that all of her many outfits fit the girls as well. Lateesha's exaggerated tits and ass strained the limits of the fabric, however.

They changed heedless to the workmen coming in out of the room, each of whom suddenly found reason to stay and aimlessly move boxes around. Only Natalia had returned to the truck.

Line up and touch your toes,” she told the girls.

When they had, she flipped their skirts up, exposing their bare asses. One of the workers dropped a lamp he was holding, and it shattered.

Idiot!” Natalia screamed as she walked in. Realizing what the problem was, she said, “Get out!” and her hired hands reluctantly left the room. She stayed to watch, however.

The girls, with Lateesha in the middle, forming a reverse Oreo, widened their stances to keep their balance as Janique slapped each of their asses hard enough to leave bright red hand prints.

Thank you, mommy,” they responded.

Then she knelt behind them and passed her tongue up and down their exposed pussies and asses, relishing the scent as they grew increasingly wet. It was so intoxicating, it almost turned into a scene right there. She stopped herself with some reluctance before it did, and made a mental note to someday develop a perfume that smelled like pussy, After “Still Life With Woodpecker”, Chris had read “Jitterbug Perfume” to her, igniting a love of fragrances that had persisted ever since.

Finally, she replaced their too-short skirts and told them to stand. Janique smiled at a stunned Natalia as they walked out.

Outside, Janique hailed a cab, and two of them screeched to a halt at the sight of them. Nice, she thought, and selected one based on the appeal of the driver. She opened the back door, and the girls piled in.

Can I ride in front?” she asked.

Lady, you can do whatever you want,” he said, and tripped over himself as he got out to open her door.

When he had returned to the driver's seat, Janique said, “Beverly Hills, and step on it.” She had always wanted to say that.

In the back, the girls had assumed the same formation as they had upstairs, and couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Each of the twins was taking turns kissing Lateesha as they worked themselves into a frenzy. Janique watched with interest, and fired up a Marlboro. She noticed the driver's momentary discomfort and rolled down her window.

Problem?” she asked.

No, ma'am,” he said. “I mean, technically, they're supposed to wear seatbelts, and no one is allowed in front, either. But...” He glanced in the back and realized what was happening, losing his train of thought.

Hey!” Janique said, and the girls snapped to attention. “No orgasms.”

They laughed and went back to what they were doing. After that, the driver had trouble focusing, and his eyes kept moving from Janique to the rearview mirror. When his inattention to driving caused him to run a stoplight, she took his hand and put it in her pants.

Eyes on the road,” she said.

He nodded vigorously, and after that, his driving was as excellent as his fingerwork. I love my life, Janique thought. She couldn't help but be reminded of “Even Cowgirls Get The Blues”. It was just a Tom Robbins sort of day.

They slowed down as they entered Beverly Hills and made their way to Rodeo Drive. Janique realized he was trying to drag out the trip, but she could hardly blame him. She was so wet, she had to force herself not to cum, as well.

She was thinking about Chris.

They had spent a lot of time on the highway with Janique's legs up on the dashboard, her tits out for passing truckers. More than once they had caused massive slowdowns and traffic snarls as drivers tried to keep her in sight.

At the printer's, she had to remove his hand herself. Without a hint of self-consciousness, he rubbed it all over his mouth and mustache. He's be smelling her for the rest of the afternoon. Then he reached for his wallet and tried to hand her sixty dollars.

Don't be silly,” she said, handing him a hundred of her own, instead. The business side of her wanted to turn a profit, but she was too sympathetic to the plight of working people to allow herself to do that. “Thanks, sweetie. We make movies. Ultimate Hustle. Remember the name.” She almost added that he could have any of them for three thousand dollars an hour, but resisted the urge. He probably had a family to take care of.

Yes, ma'am!”

Janique smiled. She liked making other people happy.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Review - Titanic: QED by Catt Dahman

Well, I guess I don't have to worry about spoilers, now. It's all pretty much right there in the book description.

I really enjoy the tale Catt tells in this one. The previous short story collection I read from this author hearkens back to the past, so this story was the perfect match for her. The use of H.P. Lovecraft as a character is brilliant. It's never specified until the last page that Howard Philips is Lovecraft, but astute readers will pick up on this a lot sooner. It's very much a part of the Cthulu mythos, and by the time you're two-thirds into it, that becomes apparent. It's a great homage to a phenomenal writer and story-teller.

Although he wasn't actually on the Titanic (thankfully!), many of the other characters actually were. None of them stand out nearly as much, to me, as Maggie Brown, the plucky heroine of the story.

In fact, it's a sort of feminist piece, in part. The men, on the whole, behave admirably, as you would expect men from that era to act. Of course, not all do. A crisis can bring out the worst in us. But it's the women who stand out to me, as they are acting, not out of character as such, but beyond their ordinary station in life for that time period. You can also tell that a lot of research went into writing this.

Where Catt really shines is in writing horror, and that is here in spades. There's plenty of opportunity for it in this book. It really is a lot more than a mere Titanic/shark story. It succeeds as a literary mash-up of sorts. In fact, it's sort of a meta-prequel, in that it is a prelude to Lovecraft's entire writing career. That's an amazing and exciting accomplishment.

I'm dinging her a single star from my rating, but only to push the author toward further greatness. I realize it's a matter of taste and stylistic differences, but I'd have enjoyed the story more if the narration used contractions, for example. It doesn't really take away from the tale itself, though, and I recommend this book to fans of horror and the sea, and H.P. Lovecraft fans in particular.

Four out of five stars.

Get Titanic: QED at Amazon:

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Eight Free eBooks All Weekend Long

I'm using up the last of my Select free days, all at once. Now's your chance to get: Pageburner, Perfect Me, Cure for Sanity, Six Stories Short & Sweet, Six More Short Stories, Poetry: A Love Story, An Ultimate Hustle Primer and Self-Publishing Tips and Tricks.

If you enjoy them, I'd love reviews, of course. I'm going to try a different approach for a while and put my books on Kobo, B & N, etc. and make Radar Love and Perfect Me permafree. 

Thursday, May 9, 2013

There's No Accounting For Taste

I write pulp fiction. I'm fine with that. In fact, that's all I ever really set out to do, write trashy paperbacks. Yes, I like to try and inject interesting ideas. I don't want to write forgettable books. I don't know if I'll ever write important, serious stuff like Neil Stephenson's Quicksilver (just started it, finally) or Cryptonomicon. Maybe, perhaps, someday. I'd like to.

The promise of indie writing, to me, early on, was in publishing things that you know a traditional publisher wouldn't touch, or would want to heavily modify. Not to write things that don't merit publishing, but stretching the boundaries a bit. I equated indie with underground.

That's really not the case. Most indie books, the well-written ones, seem to be worthy of a publisher. But not many of them jump out to me as something exciting and groundbreaking. Of course, there are tons of indie novels, and many I don't know a thing about. Please don't take this as a slag on indie writers. I just have eclectic tastes.

I can't help but look at everything with a writer's eye, and I'm sure many of you are the same.

Recently, I noticed that Archer, a great cartoon on FX, was only rated three stars on Netflix. That's curious, to me. It's really witty and well-written. I can imagine that some people who rate it as less than stellar are offended by humor that they perceive to be sexist, or racist. Perhaps it's the violence. I'm at a loss to explain it, especially considering Family Guy and American Dad are both rated five stars. If Archer was an indie novel, it would be dead in the water with those ratings.

I also watched "John Dies at the End", which was written by writer David Wong. It has a real indie sensibility to it, and is well written. From the moment you hear the narration, you realize that this guy is a good writer. I definitely want to read it, now. This, at least, is rated five stars on average, and I feel it deserves it. It's funny, original, and still tries to add bigger ideas into the story. Even Hollywood couldn't manage to dilute it too much.

Two indie novels that come to mind are "What Would Satan Do?" and "The Apocalypse and Satan's Gloryhole". By the titles alone, they'd never make it onto the shelves at Wal-Mart. I haven't read the second yet, but the first calls to mind "Good Omens" by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. That's definitely a good thing. Both are highly-rated, and the titles probably do well to keep out a certain readership that wouldn't like them anyway.

This is the promise of indie publishing, to me, and one reason I still retain a modicum of enthusiasm for it. My point, if I have one, is that there is a market for strange books that defy genres and easy categorization. Breakthrough books, in other words. The trick is finding your market, and getting your novel into their hands. Of course, if I knew how to do that, I probably wouldn't be writing this column.

* Slight update. It turns out that the three stars I was seeing for Archer is how Netflix thinks I would rate it, for some reason. It's actually in the 4.1-4.2 range, which makes me feel a little better about humanity.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Chapter One Draft of "Terminally Pretty"

The girl stood on a street corner, smoking a cigarette with angst. She was a little nervous that her parents, or possibly her judgmental uncle, would see her. An average day, in other words. That all ended when a stranger in a nondescript sedan pulled up. I wonder if he thinks I'm a hooker, she thought.

Then he aimed a scary looking pistol at her.

Get in,” he said casually, without a hint of aggression. It was rather friendly, really. A lift from a friend. The gun said otherwise.

His eyes were mesmerizing.

Unsure of any other option, Pet moved to get in. As she did so, he put the gun away. She sat down and looked at him, then closed the door. Without really thinking about it, she locked it. Finally, he looked over at her, but left the transmission in ‘park’. She looked back quizzically. 

Seatbelt?” he said, more a statement than a question.

Pet fastened it, fumbling only slightly.

Satisfied she was secure, he began to drive. After he was on the road for a bit, incredibly, he laid his hand on the seat beside her, as if to hold her hand. He said nothing, but looked forward as he drove. He didn’t look so much pensive, more like shy. Pet found the situation somehow adorable.

Always one to take life’s little pleasures where she could, she decided she had little to lose. And plenty to gain, she supposed. Following his cue, she lightly held his hand, maintaining the same forward stare. He relaxed a bit, after the initial shockwave had passed from his hand to his heart.

They drove in silence, lightly squeezing each other’s hands and smiling faintly. It was nice. Pet enjoyed it, and she had been on creepier dates with boys. Hell, she’d had creepier encounters with family members.

He let go, once, to turn on the radio. It wasn’t anything she cared to hear, so after a polite ten seconds, she then let go of his hand instead, and changed the station to a local college station, alternative rock.

Hey!” her abductor blurted out. He sounded genuinely hurt. How dare she overrule his music selection?

She clasped his hand again, a bit more energetically than before. He made a mental note to punish her for her impertinence. But later. For now, he wanted to enjoy the drive.

Pet felt the urge, once, to ask where they were going, but she resisted.

I want you to know,” he said finally, “that you do this of your own freewill.”

Freewill?” she exclaimed. “You pointed a gun at me!”

Did I?” he asked, and he looked genuinely confused. “Even if I did, freewill.”

What?” An angry non-question.

It was your choice to get in or not.”

Pet knew better than to argue with a maniac, even if he was kind of cute. Boys her own age never did it for her. They were socially awkward, inept, cliquish, insincere, and a laundry list of other negative character traits. But when a forty or fifty year old man wants to get to know you…

Sufficed to say, she could have the pants charmed off of her by the right gentleman. A gentleman who knows what he wants. And what she needs. Pet couldn’t believe she was having these thoughts in her situation. And yet there it was, she was scared and excited.

He drove them to a generic neighborhood, notable for its featurelessness. He stopped in front of a large two-story brick home and opened the garage. When he had pulled fully inside, he closed it again, neat as you please. He opened the door to get out and she released her seat belt, preparing to do the same. He motioned for her to stay out, and proceeded to exit, closing the door behind him.

Fool,” she thought. He left the pistol between the seats. She could feel his eyes burning away at her. For some reason, not a lack of self-preservation, she didn’t grab the gun. She had a feeling about this guy. Maybe she was crazy, too, she thought.

He rounded the corner and opened the door for her. He didn’t pull her out or even touch her, just extended his hand to her, and she accepted it and let him help her out.

Freewill, she mused.

But he didn’t release her hand either. His grip was firm but gentle. She liked that.

The door from the garage to the house opened into an alcove that she suspected led to the kitchen. Interesting, she thought. I hope he doesn’t just eat me. Instead, he led her out of the side door and up to the front entrance.

Again, Pet scoffed. Now people may have seen her here. And a lack of clean room measures meant she was already covered in his DNA should she escape. Or chose to escape, she thought vaguely.

The foyer was clean, yet as indistinct as the suburb it resided in.

He left the light on, and reached into the next room to turn on the next set of lights. Like he was scared of the dark or something. But the light brought astonishment to her eyes. The living room was bare, save for shelves lining the walls.

On them sat every BDSM and bondage device you could imagine. She’d visited a few adult toy stores, and she knew leather anything was pricey. Pet was staring at a small fortune, by her meager standards. On the floors were a few larger objects. Devices, really. She recognized the Sybian, a sort of vibrating saddle for women, but this one had been modified to sport an eight inch dildo of enormous girth.

The other was even more outlandish. It was sort of a single-wheeled bicycle. You sat in a chair and pedaled. The pedal indirectly drove a piston. The piston moved an arm. And the arm sported another large dildo. She noted the chrome and the little details, like the channels on the wheel that let you adjust the depth of penetration. She decided it cost as much as the rest of the room put together.

He led her past the kitchen, which didn’t seem nearly as frightening as she’d imagined it. Not really ‘Better Homes and Gardens’, but neither ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre.’ He turned on the hall light. The first door on the left was a bathroom. He didn’t turn that light on, but he paused with her in front of the door so she could see it was there. For what reason, she wasn’t sure. Whether threat or promise, she took it in stride. When you decided you were as good as dead, you could be rather happy-go-lucky about things.

She kept gravitating to that one thought, that she was going to die. But at the same time, she had the strangest feeling that everything was going to be all right. Which really didn’t jibe with her, as she didn’t feel being dead would be all right. Not at all.

There were four more doors, two on each side of the hall. He led her to the first, on the right. It was a fully furnished girl’s room, replete with queen-sized canopy bed. Pet squealed in delight and ran in. Within seconds, she was jumping on the bed, her head stretching the fabric of the canopy.

He only stood and watched from a little more than arm’s length away. Eventually she tired of this and sat down on the bed, laughing and breathing deeply. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. She was beautiful. And when smiling, doubly so. When she was breathing normally again he extended his hand to her.

Come on,” he said.


He only held her hand and pulled her along. The next room was a genuine dungeon, in that it resembled the basement of a castle.

It had rock-hewn walls, with ancient looking shackles attached to great chains. There was an x-shaped, wooden table with red leather padding. There was also an iron maiden, and a fireplace. In a holder to the side stood several pokers and brands.

Brutal,” she said. “Medieval.”

He accepted her faint praise with graciousness. And it was here that he embraced her. He pulled her close, still holding one hand, and held her face as he kissed her hard for what seemed like minutes. It was a lot more intense than she was used to. Then he stopped and stared into her eyes with the same intensity with which he kissed her.

Finally, she dropped her eyes to the floor, subverting her will to his own, and he led her by the wrist to the third room. This time, there was no light switch. All the same, the room was designed to inspire awe.

It was an entire Satanic chapel. At the rear center of the room there was an elevated platform that held an altar, a massive slab of smoothly cut stone It was easily large enough to display, for instance, the naked body of an adult female. Above it hung a red, leather inverted cross in the same style as the ‘X’ in the dungeon. The platform itself was lined with racks of tall candles.

On the floor in the center of the room was a perfect pentagram, a shorter candle burning at each of the five points. To the left of the room was a symbol she recognized from the cover of the Necronomicon. On the right was an Egyptian ankh in embossed gold metal. As elaborate as the tableau was, Pet was only mildly impressed.

Not bad,” she said. You got a few things wrong.”

What do you mean?”

Well, your first mistake is talking to me and humanizing me. True serial killers are unable to perform any real bonding. I’m something of an expert,” she said somewhat smugly. That,” she gestured, “appears on the cover of the Necronomicon, a known work of fiction.”


Sure. The tip-off is the mention of Abdul Azrahad, the mad Arab. H.P. Lovecraft. I’m unaware of that particular symbol appearing elsewhere. Too hard to research. So, okay. As ooky symbols go, it’s cool. Because it’s like you’re invoking Cthulu and the elder gods. The great old ones. Which is fucking crazy, like Discordians hailing Eris.”

Who?” he asked.

Eris, a particularly mischievous Greek goddess. She believed in creative destruction. She made a golden apple engraved with the word ‘kaliste’, “to the prettiest one”. She then tossed it into a room where the other goddesses were attending a party, provoking them into a fight between themselves. My point is, it's foolish to hail Eris, just as it would be to herald the return of Cthulu. Because sometimes they listen...”

He absorbed her lecture in silence.

The cross is tacky, but it works in a sexual context, this not being an actual Satanic chapel, but a funhouse parody of one. The Baphomet is cool, but it’s a very overused cliché. Especially when you consider that the Church of Satan is about as scary as Ayn Rand on Halloween. And this ankh! This just destroys everything. Why?”

It’s…uh, pagan?”

It’s a symbol of male/female union. If you had intended to make that implication, that would have been a better answer.”

And now I know.”

Pet rummaged through her purse and pulled out a cassette. Can you play this?” she asked him.

He looked deep into her eyes and then shook his head. But when she handed him the tape, he accepted it, with the reserve one would greet a dead mouse fetched by a favorite cat. His free right hand went to his pocket, where he produced a garage door opener-sized beeper and read the number on its cracked LCD.

I’ll be back,” he said.

Pet made note of the fact that there was a phone somewhere in the house.

She brought the ball-gag and other items he left with her to the altar and sat down on it. She could definitely see a need for a pillow, perhaps a long, round one of red satin. The stone slab’s surface was polished to mirror-like degree, and was icy cold to the touch.

Again, she went into her over-sized purse, this time producing a peculiar brass pipe and lighter. She’d taken a good three hits when he walked back into the room with a cassette boom-box.

What are you doing?” he asked with some annoyance.

Relaxing,” she said Want some?”

It’s illegal!”

Kidnapping, rape and murder, now that’s illegal,” she said with a rather bored air about her as she took a huge final pull from her Protopipe, and put it back into her epic purse.

You assume facts not in evidence.”

Such as?”

Such as kidnapping. I think we had our talk about freewill already.”

And the rape and murder?”

Rape and murder?”

He put the red ball-gag in her mouth and secured the buckle. He then directed her to lie down on her back on the slab. She became wracked with a series of involuntary shivers. He was momentarily distracted by his beeper again, but his attention soon returned to Pet when he heard her speak.

Is this thing supposed to keep me from talking?” she asked him.

Put on that tape. It’s perfect for this room. It’s really atmospheric, like a Halloween sound effects record. The singer, King Diamond, sings like a girl and says he love Satan, but I know these are love songs about a girl. Plus they are really jazzy and cool, as a band. It’s beautiful, if metal can be beautiful.”

He looked at her but said nothing.

Why not?” she asked him.

Those bands are bad.”

Oh, please. The guy is a caveman. He’s an atheist, at best. And you’re one to talk about evil.”

Am I evil?” he asked

I guess not,” she admitted. Tighten the buckle until it pulls my lips and cheeks in a little, so I can’t talk.”

She raised her head and he did so, and then he started her tape. Organ music and laughter filled the room, culminating in loud, fast metal that was indeed jazzy, but coupled with high-pitched wailing and blood-curdling growls. He was by various turns frightened and disgusted.

And turned on.

Pet looked at him with rheumy eyes, already half in a trance. He began to run his hands slowly up her legs from her ankles and she dropped her head back down. He touched her nearly everywhere, to the point of being able to smell her excitement. She was wet to an embarrassing degree.

With one hand he held her face and neck while the other touched everywhere except her breasts and between her legs. Pet began to moan through her ball-gag.

And then she felt his beeper vibrate.

He released her, a trifle hastily, she noted, and then climbed down from the altar and left without so much as a single word. She found that she was not having fun anymore. Being tied up and alone was not enjoyable at all. And now that her excitement had been somewhat quenched by the intrusion and subtle disrespect, correctly perceived or not, Pet discovered she had to pee.

She tried to wait for his return, but soon realized she wouldn’t really be able to communicate with him anyway. So she cupped her hands and pulled them through the loosely buckled leather cuffs.
Pet was humming and smiling, pleased with herself for having so cleverly escaped. When he had tightened the restraints she had managed to put her wrists in an awkward position that afforded her some wiggle room.

She walked unclothed to the door and looked both ways in the hallway like a child tentatively crossing the street. Pet was haunted by the belief that she had done something wrong in her relatively juvenile life, but she was unsure what it could be. Seeing and hearing no one, she fairly tip-toed her way down the hall to the bathroom, where she naturally turned on the light and shut the door.

Shortly thereafter, the man returned to find Pet missing, having in essence left him at the altar. He panicked and ran from the room, grabbing a knife as he exited.

When he saw the light on under the bathroom door, he felt foolish. And then angry about feeling foolish. He stood to the left of the door and when Pet began to walk down the hall, grabbed her from behind.

She saw the knife before she felt it, the same one that had unnerved her when she saw it the first time in the grotto. By then it was too late to scream, his hand now covering her mouth so tightly it hurt. He simply returned her to the altar and tied her up again, never saying a word.

The hand with the knife hovered between her spread thighs.

Well, this is it, Pet thought, I’m going to die.

He rotated his elbow, raring back to drive the blade home, and said in a whisper, “I am your punishment.”

Even in the last seconds of her life, she was incredibly turned on. As the knife blade flew toward her crotch, she found herself thinking, “And I am yours.”

As the last possible instant, he spun the knife around in a deft maneuver that was clearly a practiced one. Instead of puncturing her with the blade, the over-sized handle slammed home, leaving Pet writhing in orgasm with the blade protruding.

For a few moments it quivered and vibrated like a tuning fork as she squirmed and rolled from side to side within the confines of her bonds. When she finally looked up, he was gone. Pet hoped he would be back, and soon. He had tied her much tighter the second time and she wasn’t sure she could escape again.

After a while, she began to suspect she had been abandoned. She focused her efforts on a series of contractions intended to push the knife handle out. It was over-sized and wooden, which made it slow going despite her outstanding muscular control. Two minutes later, it dropped to the altar with a clatter just as he re-entered the room.

Wordlessly, he removed her gag and began to untie her. She sat up, rubbing her wrists as he released her ankles. Neither mentioned the knife. Pet swung her legs around and sat at the edge of the altar, naked and unashamed.

That was fun,” she cooed. “For a little while, I thought you were gonna kill me.”

The face that was looking at her turned away. His hand went to his pocket, and she knew his pager was going off again.

I have to go,” he said. “My wife…”

Your wife?” she shrieked, leaping down and advancing on him, causing him to retreat from the finger jabbing at his chest. I knew you were no serial killer! You don’t fit the profile.”

Pet didn’t wonder why she felt disappointed.

Asshole,” she hissed.

Now what?” he asked.

Now what?” she mocked. You’re asking me what to do?”

He looked into her violet eyes pleadingly.

You leave. I stay. And in return, you give me…everything I want.” She looked at him, awaiting his response to her challenge.

Or?” he asked.

Or you kill me. Or you go to prison for life. Or I kill you. There are lots of ways to go with this, I think. It’s all the same to me,” she sniffed.

Checkmated, his eyes searched the floor.

Can I go?” he asked without looking up.

One more thing,” she said, causing him to look up at her.


Kiss me…”

Chapter Two: