Here's a fetish I never saw coming. O.o
Stuck in the sticky
I'll never view a grown man chewing bubble gum with the same eyes again.
Showing posts with label giggle worthy stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label giggle worthy stuff. Show all posts
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Crazytrain off-loading at Crazytown
Hi again.
(Insert litany of excuses for not blogging)
With all the authors wigging out, tweaking out, flipping out, and flaking out in obvious and subtle ways, it makes a gal a little nervous to blog. Shit, what if I’m batshit insane too, but I don’t know it? LOL We all have our hidden crazy, right? Maybe we like the Saiyuki collector “action figures” to be a certain freaking way on our bookshelves and we’re a bit miffed because we currently don’t have the room to place them JUST SO. Or maybe we turn into Ultima "Bitch from Hell" when our working time is interrupted for stupid shit. (Are you bleeding? Is someone dying? Is something on fire? No? It’s not an emergency, fuck off.) Or maybe I’m showing a bit too much of my hidden crazy right now. LOL
If we live, work, and play on the internet long enough we will eventually type something that sounded oh-so-good at the time. A few years later and…shit…it’s still there. We hope it gets buried in the bowels of google, but it’s still THERE.
But, sometimes there is a group of people who tend to reveal their crazy a bit too often and too frequently. Authors are one of those groups of people. We start writing and all of sudden we start smoking (anyone seen my lighter…the one shaped like a coffee cup?), then we get way too many cats (the four in this house are fine btw and the crapload outside seem to be fine too.), then we start drinking (OMG Blue, the mandarin vodka was awesome!), then comes absinthe, then drugs, and finally we off ourselves.
Did I REALLY thoroughly think about this career path?
Speaking of career paths, while I was off working and dealing with life, I missed a pretty important announcement. Metaldog/Irondog (anyone know what penname she’s using for her work? I forgot to ask on the phone last night) has TWO contracts with TQ! How awesome is that? Good job, MD! We’re all cheering for you, dear. (Hope you thought about this career path.)
But, I thought I’d check in with everyone and let ya’ll know that I still have the same level of crazy that I’ve always had. So far, I’ve not experienced any alien abductions or revelations from God. My spiritual life is what it has always been: sometimes I go to Mass, sometimes I go to church, sometimes I go to drum circle, and sometimes I look at the wall and think I should be doing something else (playing a lvl 80 holy spec priest does not get one closer to God BTW). The dog next door, Sam, isn’t talking to me. There’s no grape Kool-Aid in the house and no one is getting castrated. Furthermore, I have no intention of walking away from my keyboard or genre. I’m just much, much slower than before due to this nerve problem that will, probably, never go away.
(Insert litany of excuses for not blogging)
With all the authors wigging out, tweaking out, flipping out, and flaking out in obvious and subtle ways, it makes a gal a little nervous to blog. Shit, what if I’m batshit insane too, but I don’t know it? LOL We all have our hidden crazy, right? Maybe we like the Saiyuki collector “action figures” to be a certain freaking way on our bookshelves and we’re a bit miffed because we currently don’t have the room to place them JUST SO. Or maybe we turn into Ultima "Bitch from Hell" when our working time is interrupted for stupid shit. (Are you bleeding? Is someone dying? Is something on fire? No? It’s not an emergency, fuck off.) Or maybe I’m showing a bit too much of my hidden crazy right now. LOL
If we live, work, and play on the internet long enough we will eventually type something that sounded oh-so-good at the time. A few years later and…shit…it’s still there. We hope it gets buried in the bowels of google, but it’s still THERE.
But, sometimes there is a group of people who tend to reveal their crazy a bit too often and too frequently. Authors are one of those groups of people. We start writing and all of sudden we start smoking (anyone seen my lighter…the one shaped like a coffee cup?), then we get way too many cats (the four in this house are fine btw and the crapload outside seem to be fine too.), then we start drinking (OMG Blue, the mandarin vodka was awesome!), then comes absinthe, then drugs, and finally we off ourselves.
Did I REALLY thoroughly think about this career path?
Speaking of career paths, while I was off working and dealing with life, I missed a pretty important announcement. Metaldog/Irondog (anyone know what penname she’s using for her work? I forgot to ask on the phone last night) has TWO contracts with TQ! How awesome is that? Good job, MD! We’re all cheering for you, dear. (Hope you thought about this career path.)
But, I thought I’d check in with everyone and let ya’ll know that I still have the same level of crazy that I’ve always had. So far, I’ve not experienced any alien abductions or revelations from God. My spiritual life is what it has always been: sometimes I go to Mass, sometimes I go to church, sometimes I go to drum circle, and sometimes I look at the wall and think I should be doing something else (playing a lvl 80 holy spec priest does not get one closer to God BTW). The dog next door, Sam, isn’t talking to me. There’s no grape Kool-Aid in the house and no one is getting castrated. Furthermore, I have no intention of walking away from my keyboard or genre. I’m just much, much slower than before due to this nerve problem that will, probably, never go away.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Religious Erotica
I think this is quite fitting. If you Google “gay priest erotica” (no quotes) then my blogger is the first one up. That’s so cool! Once I get About to Sin published (and it will be published), I hope to introduce more people to the beautiful genre of religious erotica. And, not that trashy crap with priests who shouldn’t be priests, but, good priests who are really torn between being men and being priests.
Recently, I’ve taken a bit of gruff for writing gay priest erotica. I don’t think what I write is sacrilegious and I think it shows a healthy respect for the faith. I know some people won’t be able to understand that. For some people religious erotica, by its nature, is blasphemy. I hope those people find stories that they like and enjoy.
For the rest of us, let’s exchange some fic recs, shall we? Gay priest erotica is a niche genre of a niche genre so there isn’t much out there. Anyone have any recs they’d like to share?
My research for this story has taken me to some very interesting places and involved some fascinating conversations. I’ve spoken to several active and inactive priests as well as Roman and non-Roman Catholic priests. Ironically, those priests have not given me any gruff for writing what I write. One told me he couldn’t read my work because he feared it would be too much like his life. Another priest read the rough draft of my story and has offered some wonderful input. I never thought that writing gay priest erotica would help me gain a deeper respect for priests, but it has. Writing religious erotica has also helped me deepen my respect for faith in general. There’s something very special about someone who truly feels their faith…and that something is rather sexy.
As a side note: if you include the quotes in the google search, my LJ is the first hit and my website is the second and last hit. This ROCKS!
Recently, I’ve taken a bit of gruff for writing gay priest erotica. I don’t think what I write is sacrilegious and I think it shows a healthy respect for the faith. I know some people won’t be able to understand that. For some people religious erotica, by its nature, is blasphemy. I hope those people find stories that they like and enjoy.
For the rest of us, let’s exchange some fic recs, shall we? Gay priest erotica is a niche genre of a niche genre so there isn’t much out there. Anyone have any recs they’d like to share?
My research for this story has taken me to some very interesting places and involved some fascinating conversations. I’ve spoken to several active and inactive priests as well as Roman and non-Roman Catholic priests. Ironically, those priests have not given me any gruff for writing what I write. One told me he couldn’t read my work because he feared it would be too much like his life. Another priest read the rough draft of my story and has offered some wonderful input. I never thought that writing gay priest erotica would help me gain a deeper respect for priests, but it has. Writing religious erotica has also helped me deepen my respect for faith in general. There’s something very special about someone who truly feels their faith…and that something is rather sexy.
As a side note: if you include the quotes in the google search, my LJ is the first hit and my website is the second and last hit. This ROCKS!
Monday, October 15, 2007
And the truth of the matter is...
Now everyone knows why I get irritated when the phone rings. All that banging gets painful.
Snagged from No rules. Just write.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Questions for Characters: Answers!
Not too long ago, I asked if you hand any questions for the characters. Basically giving you the chance to interview the characters. And here are the answers! If you guys think this is fun and entertaining, then I’ll do it again after a little bit. If you come up with any questions, leave them here, e-mail them or hold on to them. I enjoyed this and would like to do it again.
Thanks for participating! ^_^
A single microphone stood on a darkened stage. The lights went up and the hum of electricity filled the silence of the auditorium.
About to Sin:
A woman dressed in a peach sari walked across the stage. A matronly woman with her long dark hair pulled back in a bun. Years of laughter and love had left their mark in her face. Once she stood in the light, gray hair highlighted her dark locks. Another woman, younger and wearing boot-cut jeans and a batwing teal shirt, hurried on stage after the older woman. Anand, walking slowly and gripping his forehead, followed his sister.
The older woman tapped the microphone. “Is this on?” A thick British accent carried her words through the auditorium.
The younger woman spoke. “Yes, Mom, it is.”
Anand’s mother shielded her eyes with her hand and looked out toward the audience. “I don’t see anyone. It’s much too bright.”
Anand sighed. “They’re there, Mom. They’re always there.” Anand shook his head and sighed. “You just HAD to ask her, didn’t you?” He leaned toward the microphone. “You could have asked me about my childhood, you know. What? Do you want to hear that I ate play-doh as a child or something?” He held up an index finger. “Once! Exactly once. And it was way too salty.”
“Would you just let Mom answer the question?” Reaching into a pocket, Rachna pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Anand’s mother read the question aloud, “How do you feel about your son? Proud? Concerned?”
Silence surrounded the trio. Anand’s shoulders relaxed as he looked upon his mother. His features softened and one corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile, but wouldn’t dare let himself.
Anand’s mother looked up from the note and she smiled, brightening her face. “I love him, dearly, as I do all my children. I am concerned, though.” Her smile dropped a bit as Anand’s rose. “I fear he will never know the joy of being a father.”
Anand rolled his eyes. “Mom, I keep telling you…”
She pointed a finger effectively hushing her son. “Science shall help you.” Returning her attention to the audience, she continued. “And I’m very proud of him.”
If one were looking close enough, they might have noticed the tiny blush upon Anand’s cheeks. A blushed he would deny for he does NOT blush.
“He’s a good doctor—very dedicated to helping those who are ill.”
Anand shook his head and mouthed the word: “money.”
“Lies!” A voice from off stage that sounded a lot like Father Daniel traveled across stage.
Anand’s mother shook her head. “Not lies. I am very proud of him. He studied hard and has grown into a fine young man.”
Rachna put her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I don’t think he meant you, Mom.”
“Oh,” Anand’s mother continued, “He could call home more.”
Anand stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I called last week.”
Her finger went up again. “Twice a month is not often enough. I gave birth to you and raised you. I put up with all those times you wasted gauze wanting to cure me of ailments I didn’t have. We could never keep tape in the house due to you. I believe I’m entitled to more than two phone calls a month.”
Rachna sighed. “I WARNED you, Anand.” She put an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Anand is very busy and he works strange hours. It’s difficult to call.”
“And it was difficult giving birth to five children.”
Rachna started shuffling her mother off stage. Prior to stepping into the wings, she looked back at Anand. “Don’t make me pin you to the floor and force you to call her.”
“We’re not children anymore. You can’t do that.”
“Don’t push me, Anand,” she said as she exited.
Daniel walked on stage and joined Anand next to the microphone.
Anand tossed his arms into the air, “Does everyone get a question except me?”
“I hardly think ‘two people’ constitutes ‘everyone’.” He reached into his black pants and pulled out a note. “Besides if you were more interesting, people might ask you questions.”
“I’m plenty interesting!” Anand protested.
Daniel’s mouth opened and closed several times after he silently read the note.
“What’s it say?”
Daniel flatted the note against his chest. “Oh, dear. This…this…is…”
“What’s it say, Daniel?”
“It’s a complex and private question.”
Anand snatched the note away from Daniel and read it aloud, “Do you still think that being in love with Anand and expressing this sexually is sinful?” Anand scratched the back of his head. “Wow, they don’t pull their punches do they?” He folded the note in his hand and looked at Daniel. “Do you love me?”
Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. “Have we reached that point in our relationship?”
Anand shrugged. He looked down at his feet. “Maybe.” Cutting his eyes back toward Daniel, he whispered, “Maybe.”
Tension charged the air between them.
Daniel cleared his throat. “This feels like rushing things to me. Perhaps I should address the second part of the question?”
Anand sighed with relief. “Yeah, good idea.”
Daniel closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his forehead. He took in a breath and opened his eyes before speaking, “I’ve spent many hours wondering this. Some might say years pondering this and I’m still not sure what I believe. At one time I knew. At one time I was certain. However, I’ve had to readdress this issue. There’s nothing in the Gospels about same-sex relationships. Jesus never spoke, directly, on the issue which would lead some to believe that it isn’t a matter of importance to Him. All the scripture concerning homosexuality comes from the Old Testament and that also comes with historic context which—”
Anand interrupted with a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I don’t think they want a theology lesson. I think they want to know about you personally.”
Daniel nodded. “The fact of the matter is that I made a promise of celibacy at the time of my ordination. Failing to live up to that promise constitutes lying. And that is very clearly a sin. I do not have an easy choice ahead of me. If I cannot live up to my promises to God and the church, then I am not fit to wear the collar I hold dear.”
Anand knitted his brow. “I’d always heard it phrased ‘a vow of chastity’, but you keep saying a ‘promise of celibacy’. What’s the difference between chastity and celibacy?”
“That depends on who you talk to you. Religious order priests take vows. Diocesan priests make promises.”
“What’s the difference?”
“It’s complicated.” Daniel shrugged. “Unless you’d like another lesson…”
“No, thank you.”
“I didn’t think so. Bottom line: I must choose between two paths of the heart. I cannot have both.” Daniel stared at the floor as he walked off stage.
Anand shook his head. “There has to be a solution and we’re going to find it.”
Full Circle:
The lights went down and the auditorium grew silent. Once the stage was illuminated again, all of the vampires from Full Circle stood in a semi-circle around the microphone. Pebble, sat upon a wrought iron perch.
Kendrick pulled out a note and unfolded it. “This one is for the raven.”
Alvaro pulled the perch closer to the microphone.
Kendrick read the note aloud. “How much do you really understand anyway? Can you talk back, like in minds?” Kendrick very briefly smirked.
Pebble with his richly dark wings sat on his perch and stared out toward the audience. His dark eyes seemed to carry more wisdom than they should. He bristled and began to preen for a moment. The air around the bird took on a mysterious feel and seemed to drop a bit in temperature. Pebble stretched out his wings and with two great flaps, he took flight.
Byron shook his head, “I can’t figure out if that bird is an idiot or more than he appears to be.”
Alvaro sighed. “How can we tell the difference between what is real and what we perceive to be real?” He moved the perch away from the microphone.
Alis visually tracked the raven as it left the stage. “Or what’s just creepy.”
Barely perceptibly, Kendrick ticked an eyebrow before putting the note back in his pocket. Reaching into his suit coat pocket, he pulled out another note. “This one is for me. Why did you nearly completely force yourself on Byron when you found him again?” His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “Is that how it seemed?”
Byron nodded. “Kind of. Yeah.”
“Oh dear.” Kendrick put his hand to his chest and leaned close to the microphone. “I would never take anyone against their will.”
“No, but you were all over me like white on rice.” Byron rolled his eyes.
Kendrick knitted his brow. “Byron you don’t know the joy in my heart when I saw you near the church. When I followed you in—”
“Chased,” Byron corrected.
“Followed.”
“Hunted.”
“Followed.” Kendrick cleared his throat and continued, “into the church—our—church, I…I supposed I was a bit overzealous. Once I figured out that you didn’t remember me…” Kendrick dropped his head. “I thought…
“You were horny,” Byron interrupted.
Kendrick continued, “Hoped…that you might…”
“Horny.”
Kendrick sighed. “I had originally suspected that our separation was why you didn’t remember me and I’d hoped that being near me would help you.”
“You were horny and not in control of yourself.” Byron smirked. “You stalked me all over that sanctuary and until I had no choice but to just ask you what you wanted.”
Kendrick nibbled his bottom lip. “I searched for you for over three centuries. Forgive me for being a bit zealous.”
Byron rolled his eyes. “First it was ‘a bit overzealous’ and now it’s ‘a bit zealous’.” He slowly nodded. “Calling your behavior ‘a bit zealous’ is like saying Elizabeth Bathory did ‘a few bad things’.”
Alvaro visibly shuddered. “Elizabeth Bathory—that’s a name I’ve not heard in a long time. Not long enough.”
“If you would have just tasted of me instead of running away, that day would have been very different.” Kendrick crossed his arms over his chest with an indignant huff. “Next question.”
“I suppose I’ll go next.” Alvaro reached into his pocket and pulled out a note. “Given your history does living in a church bother you at all?” He knitted his brow.
Josiah laughed. “Bother him? You have no idea!”
Alis smacked the back of Josiah’s head. “Don’t be a jerk. If you can manage it.”
“And you’ve fed off too many men!” Josiah pointed at the mid-wife female vampire but kept his eyes on Alis. “You should take a lesson from her.”
The female vampire’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t look at me; the author didn’t even give me a name!”
All of the vampires turned toward her and gasped. “You don’t have a name?” They asked in unison.
She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of at least.” She fiddled with her skirt. “I’m told that it’s like this. All of us are named after a time era or a specific historical figure—except Kendrick and Byron. Apparently the author hasn’t fleshed out my back story enough to figure out who I am other than a lesbian.”
Byron shook his head. “That pretty much sucks.”
Alvaro adjusted his glasses. “To be fair she really didn’t do much.”
Kendrick knitted his brow. “However, she is a part of the coven and she deserves a name.”
“Technically we are not a coven. We’re a few members short.” Alvaro sighed. “Back to the question at hand. I’m assuming the question is referring to why I left Spain and my history with the Torquemada—being the history that in the eyes of some might have left me a bit upset with The Church. I’m very comfortable in a church. More comfortable in a church than any where else really.”
Kendrick nodded. “It was his suggestion to set up at the church.”
Alvaro continued, “Perhaps I wouldn’t be if I had been captured and tortured; however, it’s possible for someone to warp theology and doctrine while the theology and doctrine remain good.” He walked off into the shadows and returned holding The Book of the War of the Lords. “I think what Samael recorded about Lucifer shows us, clearly, that the intent can be…” He flipped through the ancient pages. “…twisted while…” His right index finger brushed one of the pages. “…while the…the…”
“And we just lost him.” Byron chuckled. “Who has the next question?”
Josiah fished through his pockets and produced two notes. “I do. Two of them.” He grinned, obviously proud of his popularity, before reading the note aloud, “When the hell are you gonna wake up and see the wealth of love just BEGGING for you?” His smile dropped. “I don’t understand the question.” Glancing at Kendrick, he added, “Unless…of course…”
“Back off, Mr. Hormones.” Byron shifted and stepped in front of Kendrick.
Josiah jutted a finger at Byron. “You’ve not even been here for three centuries. You have no right to speak.”
“Do you forget whose memories I have now? I know all the shit you pulled!” Byron returned the finger except his was vertical and not an index finger. “You’re walking on thin ice with me for many reasons.”
“At least I’m not walking out!” Josiah stormed across the stage and stood toe to toe with Byron. “Did the ice break? Or do I need to say it twice?”
“It’s about to!” Bryon grabbed Josiah by the shirt. “Many more times than twice!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please.” Kendrick put one hand on Josiah’s shoulder and one hand on Bryon’s arm. “Let’s not fight in front of the humans. It undermines a sense of unity.”
Josiah jerked out from under Kendrick’s touch and turned his back on Byron. “Oh yeah, love is just all around me.”
Kendrick sighed. “Just read the last question. Supposedly, we’re all still in that church where the author will be starting the sequel. If she notices us missing, she’ll…well…she won’t be well.”
“Hopefully, I’ll get a name this time.” The unnamed vampire shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, mind you.” She picked at her sleeve. “I’m just saying that it would be nice to be something more than ‘the female who isn’t Alis’, ‘the mid-wife vampire’, ‘the unnamed female vampire’ or ‘the lesbian’.” She sighed. “Add to the fact that the humans don’t even know I’m a lesbian.”
Alis patted the unnamed female vampire’s shoulder. “That’s all right. The humans don’t know that Alasdair is my covenant mate.”
“At least all of you have cool names. I’m just Bob.” Bob jutted his thumb at Phineas. “Rumor has it that the author barely lets him talk because she thinks his dialog is pain in the ass.”
Phineas nodded, but didn’t say a word. Not a damn word.
“And,” Bob continued, “Her editor had to talk her out of killing him off.”
Phineas’s eyes grew wide.
The mid-wife vampire sighed, “At least you two have back story.”
Byron spoke, “So, we’re in agreement that the author is a bitch. Next question.”
“This is a two-parter.” Josiah read the note, “What does Kendrick have that keeps your pining away for someone who DOESN’T want you? In other words, why are you in denial about Alvaro?”
Alvaro looked up from the book. “Pardon? I heard my name.”
Alis leaned toward Alvaro. “Someone wants to know why Josiah is in denial about his feelings for you.”
Alvaro blushed. “He has feelings for me?”
“How can I be in denial about Alvaro?” Josiah shook his head. “In denial about what?”
Alis rolled her eyes. “He’s so far gone that he doesn’t see it when someone beats him with it.”
Shaking his head, Josiah spoke, “Let’s focus on the first question. What isn’t there to like about Kendrick? Really.”
Byron shrugged. “He’s a bit pushy.”
“He’s perfect.” Josiah said to anyone who cared to listen.
Alvaro nodded. “Sometimes, he’s flakey.”
“He…lacks…a certain something…” Alis weakly smiled. “What I’m trying to say is he’s not exactly like your typical leader. He’s…”
“You can say it, Alis.” Kendrick smiled. “I’m not quite as strong as some.”
“He’s incredibly strong.” Josiah countered. “He’s one of the originals and he has powers that…amaze me.”
Alis added. “He’s a bit idyllic at times.”
Alvaro knitted his brow. “He doesn’t always think his plans completely through.”
Kendrick narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I have faults, but should we really be mentioning this before the humans?”
Byron looked down at his white silk shirt. “He places a bit too much importance on outward trappings and signs of power instead of—”
Josiah cut off Byron, “Shut up! He’s charismatic, powerful, wise and…” his eyes traveled toward Kendrick. “…cunning and stunning. And once he realizes that he’s with a lover who doesn’t appreciate him, he’ll want me. No…” Josiah shook his head, “He wants me, but he can’t admit it. The covenant with Byron won’t let him voice his real desires.”
Alis rolled her eyes. “He’s in love with who he thinks Kendrick is.”
“No, I’m not.” Josiah argued. “Besides, he needed me—NEEDS me. He’s hurting and...” He sighed. “Is it so wrong to want to take that pain away?” He tilted his head down and picked at his nails. “I don’t think that’s so wrong.”
Kendrick patted Josiah’s shoulder. “I can appreciate wanting to be the hero. I understand the whole knight in shining armor mindset. But, do you not think that…” He turned his head and looked at Alvaro. “…someone else might be hurting and needing you more?”
“Wha…?” Alvaro’s eyes grew wide and he ducked behind the book. “How…?”
Alis threw her arms up. “Idiots. Stubborn idiots. The both of them!”
“What do you mean?” Josiah looked at Kendrick.
“It’s not my place to say anymore.”
Darkness engulfed the auditorium. The sound of a raven’s wings filled the darkness.
Thanks for participating! ^_^
A single microphone stood on a darkened stage. The lights went up and the hum of electricity filled the silence of the auditorium.
About to Sin:
A woman dressed in a peach sari walked across the stage. A matronly woman with her long dark hair pulled back in a bun. Years of laughter and love had left their mark in her face. Once she stood in the light, gray hair highlighted her dark locks. Another woman, younger and wearing boot-cut jeans and a batwing teal shirt, hurried on stage after the older woman. Anand, walking slowly and gripping his forehead, followed his sister.
The older woman tapped the microphone. “Is this on?” A thick British accent carried her words through the auditorium.
The younger woman spoke. “Yes, Mom, it is.”
Anand’s mother shielded her eyes with her hand and looked out toward the audience. “I don’t see anyone. It’s much too bright.”
Anand sighed. “They’re there, Mom. They’re always there.” Anand shook his head and sighed. “You just HAD to ask her, didn’t you?” He leaned toward the microphone. “You could have asked me about my childhood, you know. What? Do you want to hear that I ate play-doh as a child or something?” He held up an index finger. “Once! Exactly once. And it was way too salty.”
“Would you just let Mom answer the question?” Reaching into a pocket, Rachna pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Anand’s mother read the question aloud, “How do you feel about your son? Proud? Concerned?”
Silence surrounded the trio. Anand’s shoulders relaxed as he looked upon his mother. His features softened and one corner of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile, but wouldn’t dare let himself.
Anand’s mother looked up from the note and she smiled, brightening her face. “I love him, dearly, as I do all my children. I am concerned, though.” Her smile dropped a bit as Anand’s rose. “I fear he will never know the joy of being a father.”
Anand rolled his eyes. “Mom, I keep telling you…”
She pointed a finger effectively hushing her son. “Science shall help you.” Returning her attention to the audience, she continued. “And I’m very proud of him.”
If one were looking close enough, they might have noticed the tiny blush upon Anand’s cheeks. A blushed he would deny for he does NOT blush.
“He’s a good doctor—very dedicated to helping those who are ill.”
Anand shook his head and mouthed the word: “money.”
“Lies!” A voice from off stage that sounded a lot like Father Daniel traveled across stage.
Anand’s mother shook her head. “Not lies. I am very proud of him. He studied hard and has grown into a fine young man.”
Rachna put her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I don’t think he meant you, Mom.”
“Oh,” Anand’s mother continued, “He could call home more.”
Anand stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I called last week.”
Her finger went up again. “Twice a month is not often enough. I gave birth to you and raised you. I put up with all those times you wasted gauze wanting to cure me of ailments I didn’t have. We could never keep tape in the house due to you. I believe I’m entitled to more than two phone calls a month.”
Rachna sighed. “I WARNED you, Anand.” She put an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Anand is very busy and he works strange hours. It’s difficult to call.”
“And it was difficult giving birth to five children.”
Rachna started shuffling her mother off stage. Prior to stepping into the wings, she looked back at Anand. “Don’t make me pin you to the floor and force you to call her.”
“We’re not children anymore. You can’t do that.”
“Don’t push me, Anand,” she said as she exited.
Daniel walked on stage and joined Anand next to the microphone.
Anand tossed his arms into the air, “Does everyone get a question except me?”
“I hardly think ‘two people’ constitutes ‘everyone’.” He reached into his black pants and pulled out a note. “Besides if you were more interesting, people might ask you questions.”
“I’m plenty interesting!” Anand protested.
Daniel’s mouth opened and closed several times after he silently read the note.
“What’s it say?”
Daniel flatted the note against his chest. “Oh, dear. This…this…is…”
“What’s it say, Daniel?”
“It’s a complex and private question.”
Anand snatched the note away from Daniel and read it aloud, “Do you still think that being in love with Anand and expressing this sexually is sinful?” Anand scratched the back of his head. “Wow, they don’t pull their punches do they?” He folded the note in his hand and looked at Daniel. “Do you love me?”
Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. “Have we reached that point in our relationship?”
Anand shrugged. He looked down at his feet. “Maybe.” Cutting his eyes back toward Daniel, he whispered, “Maybe.”
Tension charged the air between them.
Daniel cleared his throat. “This feels like rushing things to me. Perhaps I should address the second part of the question?”
Anand sighed with relief. “Yeah, good idea.”
Daniel closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his forehead. He took in a breath and opened his eyes before speaking, “I’ve spent many hours wondering this. Some might say years pondering this and I’m still not sure what I believe. At one time I knew. At one time I was certain. However, I’ve had to readdress this issue. There’s nothing in the Gospels about same-sex relationships. Jesus never spoke, directly, on the issue which would lead some to believe that it isn’t a matter of importance to Him. All the scripture concerning homosexuality comes from the Old Testament and that also comes with historic context which—”
Anand interrupted with a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I don’t think they want a theology lesson. I think they want to know about you personally.”
Daniel nodded. “The fact of the matter is that I made a promise of celibacy at the time of my ordination. Failing to live up to that promise constitutes lying. And that is very clearly a sin. I do not have an easy choice ahead of me. If I cannot live up to my promises to God and the church, then I am not fit to wear the collar I hold dear.”
Anand knitted his brow. “I’d always heard it phrased ‘a vow of chastity’, but you keep saying a ‘promise of celibacy’. What’s the difference between chastity and celibacy?”
“That depends on who you talk to you. Religious order priests take vows. Diocesan priests make promises.”
“What’s the difference?”
“It’s complicated.” Daniel shrugged. “Unless you’d like another lesson…”
“No, thank you.”
“I didn’t think so. Bottom line: I must choose between two paths of the heart. I cannot have both.” Daniel stared at the floor as he walked off stage.
Anand shook his head. “There has to be a solution and we’re going to find it.”
Full Circle:
The lights went down and the auditorium grew silent. Once the stage was illuminated again, all of the vampires from Full Circle stood in a semi-circle around the microphone. Pebble, sat upon a wrought iron perch.
Kendrick pulled out a note and unfolded it. “This one is for the raven.”
Alvaro pulled the perch closer to the microphone.
Kendrick read the note aloud. “How much do you really understand anyway? Can you talk back, like in minds?” Kendrick very briefly smirked.
Pebble with his richly dark wings sat on his perch and stared out toward the audience. His dark eyes seemed to carry more wisdom than they should. He bristled and began to preen for a moment. The air around the bird took on a mysterious feel and seemed to drop a bit in temperature. Pebble stretched out his wings and with two great flaps, he took flight.
Byron shook his head, “I can’t figure out if that bird is an idiot or more than he appears to be.”
Alvaro sighed. “How can we tell the difference between what is real and what we perceive to be real?” He moved the perch away from the microphone.
Alis visually tracked the raven as it left the stage. “Or what’s just creepy.”
Barely perceptibly, Kendrick ticked an eyebrow before putting the note back in his pocket. Reaching into his suit coat pocket, he pulled out another note. “This one is for me. Why did you nearly completely force yourself on Byron when you found him again?” His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “Is that how it seemed?”
Byron nodded. “Kind of. Yeah.”
“Oh dear.” Kendrick put his hand to his chest and leaned close to the microphone. “I would never take anyone against their will.”
“No, but you were all over me like white on rice.” Byron rolled his eyes.
Kendrick knitted his brow. “Byron you don’t know the joy in my heart when I saw you near the church. When I followed you in—”
“Chased,” Byron corrected.
“Followed.”
“Hunted.”
“Followed.” Kendrick cleared his throat and continued, “into the church—our—church, I…I supposed I was a bit overzealous. Once I figured out that you didn’t remember me…” Kendrick dropped his head. “I thought…
“You were horny,” Byron interrupted.
Kendrick continued, “Hoped…that you might…”
“Horny.”
Kendrick sighed. “I had originally suspected that our separation was why you didn’t remember me and I’d hoped that being near me would help you.”
“You were horny and not in control of yourself.” Byron smirked. “You stalked me all over that sanctuary and until I had no choice but to just ask you what you wanted.”
Kendrick nibbled his bottom lip. “I searched for you for over three centuries. Forgive me for being a bit zealous.”
Byron rolled his eyes. “First it was ‘a bit overzealous’ and now it’s ‘a bit zealous’.” He slowly nodded. “Calling your behavior ‘a bit zealous’ is like saying Elizabeth Bathory did ‘a few bad things’.”
Alvaro visibly shuddered. “Elizabeth Bathory—that’s a name I’ve not heard in a long time. Not long enough.”
“If you would have just tasted of me instead of running away, that day would have been very different.” Kendrick crossed his arms over his chest with an indignant huff. “Next question.”
“I suppose I’ll go next.” Alvaro reached into his pocket and pulled out a note. “Given your history does living in a church bother you at all?” He knitted his brow.
Josiah laughed. “Bother him? You have no idea!”
Alis smacked the back of Josiah’s head. “Don’t be a jerk. If you can manage it.”
“And you’ve fed off too many men!” Josiah pointed at the mid-wife female vampire but kept his eyes on Alis. “You should take a lesson from her.”
The female vampire’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t look at me; the author didn’t even give me a name!”
All of the vampires turned toward her and gasped. “You don’t have a name?” They asked in unison.
She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of at least.” She fiddled with her skirt. “I’m told that it’s like this. All of us are named after a time era or a specific historical figure—except Kendrick and Byron. Apparently the author hasn’t fleshed out my back story enough to figure out who I am other than a lesbian.”
Byron shook his head. “That pretty much sucks.”
Alvaro adjusted his glasses. “To be fair she really didn’t do much.”
Kendrick knitted his brow. “However, she is a part of the coven and she deserves a name.”
“Technically we are not a coven. We’re a few members short.” Alvaro sighed. “Back to the question at hand. I’m assuming the question is referring to why I left Spain and my history with the Torquemada—being the history that in the eyes of some might have left me a bit upset with The Church. I’m very comfortable in a church. More comfortable in a church than any where else really.”
Kendrick nodded. “It was his suggestion to set up at the church.”
Alvaro continued, “Perhaps I wouldn’t be if I had been captured and tortured; however, it’s possible for someone to warp theology and doctrine while the theology and doctrine remain good.” He walked off into the shadows and returned holding The Book of the War of the Lords. “I think what Samael recorded about Lucifer shows us, clearly, that the intent can be…” He flipped through the ancient pages. “…twisted while…” His right index finger brushed one of the pages. “…while the…the…”
“And we just lost him.” Byron chuckled. “Who has the next question?”
Josiah fished through his pockets and produced two notes. “I do. Two of them.” He grinned, obviously proud of his popularity, before reading the note aloud, “When the hell are you gonna wake up and see the wealth of love just BEGGING for you?” His smile dropped. “I don’t understand the question.” Glancing at Kendrick, he added, “Unless…of course…”
“Back off, Mr. Hormones.” Byron shifted and stepped in front of Kendrick.
Josiah jutted a finger at Byron. “You’ve not even been here for three centuries. You have no right to speak.”
“Do you forget whose memories I have now? I know all the shit you pulled!” Byron returned the finger except his was vertical and not an index finger. “You’re walking on thin ice with me for many reasons.”
“At least I’m not walking out!” Josiah stormed across the stage and stood toe to toe with Byron. “Did the ice break? Or do I need to say it twice?”
“It’s about to!” Bryon grabbed Josiah by the shirt. “Many more times than twice!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please.” Kendrick put one hand on Josiah’s shoulder and one hand on Bryon’s arm. “Let’s not fight in front of the humans. It undermines a sense of unity.”
Josiah jerked out from under Kendrick’s touch and turned his back on Byron. “Oh yeah, love is just all around me.”
Kendrick sighed. “Just read the last question. Supposedly, we’re all still in that church where the author will be starting the sequel. If she notices us missing, she’ll…well…she won’t be well.”
“Hopefully, I’ll get a name this time.” The unnamed vampire shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, mind you.” She picked at her sleeve. “I’m just saying that it would be nice to be something more than ‘the female who isn’t Alis’, ‘the mid-wife vampire’, ‘the unnamed female vampire’ or ‘the lesbian’.” She sighed. “Add to the fact that the humans don’t even know I’m a lesbian.”
Alis patted the unnamed female vampire’s shoulder. “That’s all right. The humans don’t know that Alasdair is my covenant mate.”
“At least all of you have cool names. I’m just Bob.” Bob jutted his thumb at Phineas. “Rumor has it that the author barely lets him talk because she thinks his dialog is pain in the ass.”
Phineas nodded, but didn’t say a word. Not a damn word.
“And,” Bob continued, “Her editor had to talk her out of killing him off.”
Phineas’s eyes grew wide.
The mid-wife vampire sighed, “At least you two have back story.”
Byron spoke, “So, we’re in agreement that the author is a bitch. Next question.”
“This is a two-parter.” Josiah read the note, “What does Kendrick have that keeps your pining away for someone who DOESN’T want you? In other words, why are you in denial about Alvaro?”
Alvaro looked up from the book. “Pardon? I heard my name.”
Alis leaned toward Alvaro. “Someone wants to know why Josiah is in denial about his feelings for you.”
Alvaro blushed. “He has feelings for me?”
“How can I be in denial about Alvaro?” Josiah shook his head. “In denial about what?”
Alis rolled her eyes. “He’s so far gone that he doesn’t see it when someone beats him with it.”
Shaking his head, Josiah spoke, “Let’s focus on the first question. What isn’t there to like about Kendrick? Really.”
Byron shrugged. “He’s a bit pushy.”
“He’s perfect.” Josiah said to anyone who cared to listen.
Alvaro nodded. “Sometimes, he’s flakey.”
“He…lacks…a certain something…” Alis weakly smiled. “What I’m trying to say is he’s not exactly like your typical leader. He’s…”
“You can say it, Alis.” Kendrick smiled. “I’m not quite as strong as some.”
“He’s incredibly strong.” Josiah countered. “He’s one of the originals and he has powers that…amaze me.”
Alis added. “He’s a bit idyllic at times.”
Alvaro knitted his brow. “He doesn’t always think his plans completely through.”
Kendrick narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I have faults, but should we really be mentioning this before the humans?”
Byron looked down at his white silk shirt. “He places a bit too much importance on outward trappings and signs of power instead of—”
Josiah cut off Byron, “Shut up! He’s charismatic, powerful, wise and…” his eyes traveled toward Kendrick. “…cunning and stunning. And once he realizes that he’s with a lover who doesn’t appreciate him, he’ll want me. No…” Josiah shook his head, “He wants me, but he can’t admit it. The covenant with Byron won’t let him voice his real desires.”
Alis rolled her eyes. “He’s in love with who he thinks Kendrick is.”
“No, I’m not.” Josiah argued. “Besides, he needed me—NEEDS me. He’s hurting and...” He sighed. “Is it so wrong to want to take that pain away?” He tilted his head down and picked at his nails. “I don’t think that’s so wrong.”
Kendrick patted Josiah’s shoulder. “I can appreciate wanting to be the hero. I understand the whole knight in shining armor mindset. But, do you not think that…” He turned his head and looked at Alvaro. “…someone else might be hurting and needing you more?”
“Wha…?” Alvaro’s eyes grew wide and he ducked behind the book. “How…?”
Alis threw her arms up. “Idiots. Stubborn idiots. The both of them!”
“What do you mean?” Josiah looked at Kendrick.
“It’s not my place to say anymore.”
Darkness engulfed the auditorium. The sound of a raven’s wings filled the darkness.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Gotta love Engrish
In the event you've not heard of the site www.engrish.com , you MUST check it out.
Here's one that tickled me to pieces, writers and editors can truly appreciate it for what it is. Everyone else will think it's Engrish. We know the truth. The caption nearly gave me giggle-death.
Grammar Crisis
Here's one that tickled me to pieces, writers and editors can truly appreciate it for what it is. Everyone else will think it's Engrish. We know the truth. The caption nearly gave me giggle-death.
Grammar Crisis
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Must See Net Vids
I KNOW I’ve already blogged today, but I must share these.
Internet vids have become increasingly disappointing. How many times can you see a skate boarder crash and still find it funny? Those annoying “scare” videos were cute the FIRST time. Fart jokes and other bits of “juvenile” humor aren’t even funny to juveniles anymore. Lastly, seeing amateur video of two women fighting does nothing for me.
These two videos are the types of videos that keep me wading through all the crap.
The first one (and how this post is connected to writing) shows us that no matter the subject matter, the tone is what carries the piece. Don’t believe me? Check out Mary Poppins presented as a horror flick. I’m not normally scared by horror flicks, but this “trailer” gave me chills.
Mary Poppins
Now, this one was fascinating from an intellectual point of view. It looks at research done with spiders to show the effects of alcohol and other drugs on web spinning. Dang interesting and short.
Spider Research
Enjoy!
Internet vids have become increasingly disappointing. How many times can you see a skate boarder crash and still find it funny? Those annoying “scare” videos were cute the FIRST time. Fart jokes and other bits of “juvenile” humor aren’t even funny to juveniles anymore. Lastly, seeing amateur video of two women fighting does nothing for me.
These two videos are the types of videos that keep me wading through all the crap.
The first one (and how this post is connected to writing) shows us that no matter the subject matter, the tone is what carries the piece. Don’t believe me? Check out Mary Poppins presented as a horror flick. I’m not normally scared by horror flicks, but this “trailer” gave me chills.
Now, this one was fascinating from an intellectual point of view. It looks at research done with spiders to show the effects of alcohol and other drugs on web spinning. Dang interesting and short.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
The Humor of Editors
It has come to my attention that my favorite arcane and obscure dictionaries are falling to the ephemeral nature of the net.
Please, let's all have a moment of silence to think about the lost knowledge, useless as it may have been, that those wondrous clearinghouses put at our fingertips. Tissues are available next to your keyboards.
Everyone ready to continue?
Good.
I may not be able to provide the same type of Word of the Post like I did before these resources went to the net graveyard, but I'm still going to try to provide some kind of word trivia.
The first one will be….
Word of the Post
Some editors have a sense of humor. Don't look at me that way. It's true. Oh sure, we all know one or two editors who are actually human and we have to keep reminding ourselves that they are, in fact, editors. However, did you know that the editors of Merriam-Webster have a sense of humor?
Well, in 1934, they did. For those of you who are playing along at home, I'll direct you to page 232 in "One-Night Stands with American History" by Richard Shenkman and Kurt Reiger.
In the scientific community, density is abbreviated as D. or d. With that you have a recipe for humor. Add in one careless assistant. Mix in a helpful assistant. Top with editors who wanted to see if anyone would notice. Fold all the ingredients together and publish at 1934 degrees for several additions and you get the nonexistent word "dord" which was never a noun that meant density.
According to Shenkman and Reiger "dord" stayed in the dictionary for "several additions" and was removed when new editors took over control.
It's amazing to me the things we can get away with when dealing with language. A friend of mine, who I met while attending field school in Guatemala, was working on his PhD in linguistics. He told me if I ever need a word and didn't have one to make up something and put quotes around it. I'll never forget his words, "Put quotes around it and, poof, it becomes a word."
I wonder if "dord" had quotes around it in the 1934 Merriam-Webster dictionary.
Scene of the Post. Mark and James, you're up.
Mark hunched over his desk. Papers, stacked six inches high, flanked his shoulders. The green desk lamp gave off way too much heat for his work-weary eyes. With the adding machine keys perfectly memorized, the steady rhythmic clacking created its own industrial music.
The Pennsylvania calculations needed to be done by the meeting tomorrow and he'd fallen behind due to the extended meeting today. Meetings. At times if felt like the Census Bureau had more meetings than anything else.
With the muscles in his hand humming and vibrating, Mark sat upright in his chair and rolled his wrist. There had to be an easier way of doing this.
"Break time?"
Mark turned in his chair and looked up at his friend James. Friend. Just friends. Why did it have to be that way? Mark nodded. "Yes. Pennsylvania's population dord won't find itself."
James hiked an eyebrow. "Dord?"
Mark nodded.
"Dord." The first time James said the word it sounded like a question. This time Mark couldn't tell if James was confirming the word or trying not to laugh. James shook his head and chuckled at a joke only he heard. "That's not a word."
Mark crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh really?" The office rivalry between the two language swashbucklers had reached legendary status. Offices around the country took pools on which of the two men would stump the other and now, Mark, trailing by 2 to 1 odds, could nearly taste the lead. "Care to put a little wager on that?"
A grin slipped on James's face. A little smile that served as James's poker nemesis. That smirk told Mark when James was bluffing. "What do you want to wager?"
Mark smiled trying not to gloat too much. He suspected he failed to hide his confidence. "I think you know what I want."
"That again?"
"Yes, that again."
"Fine." James turned toward his desk and Mark opened his bottom desk drawer. James returned armed with an Oxford Dictionary.
Mark readied his Merriam-Webster Dictionary and began the countdown. "On three. One, two," This was going to be so very good. "Three."
The two men flipped through their associated reference books. Paper flew through the air at such speed the black ink appeared gray. Streaking nouns, pronouns and verbs marched past their fingers faster than any paper manufacture ever intended.
Finding the appropriate page, Mark's index finger slid past "dorab" and disregarded the "dorbeetle." "Dorcas" received no attention and his heart raced when his finger crested "Dorcopsis." The blood left his face when "dordogne" appeared next. His eyes flicked back and forth trying to pull the word "dord" out of thin air. No, this couldn't be. He saw this word in his dictionary at home last night. The plain paper between the two entries mocked him with its whiteness. Speechless, he looked up at his rival and friend. The word wasn't there and no amount of will would force it to appear.
Sighing, James slammed his dictionary closed. "You're right. It's a word. I stand corrected."
Mark's mouth fell open. "What?"
James smiled and clutched his "defeated" weapon to his chest. "Dinner. My house, right?"
Mark nodded and wished he could ask someone to explain what just happened. "That's the bet."
James smiled again making his eyes twinkle. He leaned toward Mark and whispered, "I plan on a better dessert this time." James's breath washed across Mark's neck making the tiny hairs on his skin stand on end. "Come prepared to leave very satisfied."
Mark watched his friend walk off. Confused and slightly aroused, he wasn't sure if he wanted an explanation anymore. Still, his competitive streak pleaded for clarification. "This does, technically, count as a win for me, right?"
James waved without looking back. "Oh, you're winning all right."
Please, let's all have a moment of silence to think about the lost knowledge, useless as it may have been, that those wondrous clearinghouses put at our fingertips. Tissues are available next to your keyboards.
Everyone ready to continue?
Good.
I may not be able to provide the same type of Word of the Post like I did before these resources went to the net graveyard, but I'm still going to try to provide some kind of word trivia.
The first one will be….
Word of the Post
Some editors have a sense of humor. Don't look at me that way. It's true. Oh sure, we all know one or two editors who are actually human and we have to keep reminding ourselves that they are, in fact, editors. However, did you know that the editors of Merriam-Webster have a sense of humor?
Well, in 1934, they did. For those of you who are playing along at home, I'll direct you to page 232 in "One-Night Stands with American History" by Richard Shenkman and Kurt Reiger.
In the scientific community, density is abbreviated as D. or d. With that you have a recipe for humor. Add in one careless assistant. Mix in a helpful assistant. Top with editors who wanted to see if anyone would notice. Fold all the ingredients together and publish at 1934 degrees for several additions and you get the nonexistent word "dord" which was never a noun that meant density.
According to Shenkman and Reiger "dord" stayed in the dictionary for "several additions" and was removed when new editors took over control.
It's amazing to me the things we can get away with when dealing with language. A friend of mine, who I met while attending field school in Guatemala, was working on his PhD in linguistics. He told me if I ever need a word and didn't have one to make up something and put quotes around it. I'll never forget his words, "Put quotes around it and, poof, it becomes a word."
I wonder if "dord" had quotes around it in the 1934 Merriam-Webster dictionary.
Scene of the Post. Mark and James, you're up.
Mark hunched over his desk. Papers, stacked six inches high, flanked his shoulders. The green desk lamp gave off way too much heat for his work-weary eyes. With the adding machine keys perfectly memorized, the steady rhythmic clacking created its own industrial music.
The Pennsylvania calculations needed to be done by the meeting tomorrow and he'd fallen behind due to the extended meeting today. Meetings. At times if felt like the Census Bureau had more meetings than anything else.
With the muscles in his hand humming and vibrating, Mark sat upright in his chair and rolled his wrist. There had to be an easier way of doing this.
"Break time?"
Mark turned in his chair and looked up at his friend James. Friend. Just friends. Why did it have to be that way? Mark nodded. "Yes. Pennsylvania's population dord won't find itself."
James hiked an eyebrow. "Dord?"
Mark nodded.
"Dord." The first time James said the word it sounded like a question. This time Mark couldn't tell if James was confirming the word or trying not to laugh. James shook his head and chuckled at a joke only he heard. "That's not a word."
Mark crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh really?" The office rivalry between the two language swashbucklers had reached legendary status. Offices around the country took pools on which of the two men would stump the other and now, Mark, trailing by 2 to 1 odds, could nearly taste the lead. "Care to put a little wager on that?"
A grin slipped on James's face. A little smile that served as James's poker nemesis. That smirk told Mark when James was bluffing. "What do you want to wager?"
Mark smiled trying not to gloat too much. He suspected he failed to hide his confidence. "I think you know what I want."
"That again?"
"Yes, that again."
"Fine." James turned toward his desk and Mark opened his bottom desk drawer. James returned armed with an Oxford Dictionary.
Mark readied his Merriam-Webster Dictionary and began the countdown. "On three. One, two," This was going to be so very good. "Three."
The two men flipped through their associated reference books. Paper flew through the air at such speed the black ink appeared gray. Streaking nouns, pronouns and verbs marched past their fingers faster than any paper manufacture ever intended.
Finding the appropriate page, Mark's index finger slid past "dorab" and disregarded the "dorbeetle." "Dorcas" received no attention and his heart raced when his finger crested "Dorcopsis." The blood left his face when "dordogne" appeared next. His eyes flicked back and forth trying to pull the word "dord" out of thin air. No, this couldn't be. He saw this word in his dictionary at home last night. The plain paper between the two entries mocked him with its whiteness. Speechless, he looked up at his rival and friend. The word wasn't there and no amount of will would force it to appear.
Sighing, James slammed his dictionary closed. "You're right. It's a word. I stand corrected."
Mark's mouth fell open. "What?"
James smiled and clutched his "defeated" weapon to his chest. "Dinner. My house, right?"
Mark nodded and wished he could ask someone to explain what just happened. "That's the bet."
James smiled again making his eyes twinkle. He leaned toward Mark and whispered, "I plan on a better dessert this time." James's breath washed across Mark's neck making the tiny hairs on his skin stand on end. "Come prepared to leave very satisfied."
Mark watched his friend walk off. Confused and slightly aroused, he wasn't sure if he wanted an explanation anymore. Still, his competitive streak pleaded for clarification. "This does, technically, count as a win for me, right?"
James waved without looking back. "Oh, you're winning all right."
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