So basically~~~ I’ve been writing like a madman, new short stories for the Bold Curves Anthology. Here’s a sample from the first story, Coates and Yyone Alloy where Aaran is dealin’ with Jareth’s brusque regard for her … attitude. An excerpt follows:
“You get any messages while I was offline?”
He handed her a neon-pink note. “Yeah, just one.”
Gazing at the scrawl, she realized it read something to the effect of:
NeoSeah H.Q,, Ms. Coates. 9:00. Tonight.
“Oh,” he grabbed the note. “NeoTech. Sorry. Scrawl like a chyshrike.”
“They don’t have fingers, numbweed. Don’t worry about it,” she replied, plunking herself heavily upon the tangerine coloured couch.
Jareth leaned forward, feet shoulder-width apart, elbows on his knees. “So what about this sexy hero, babe?”
“Didn’t I tell you to stuff a wad in it already?” Anger anxiously fueled her words.
His grin dropped sharply into a frown. “Tried. We’re out. What’s got you so amped? You jealous or something?”
Her tramadol no prescription eyes widened, amazed by the concept. “Of that?”
She grabbed one of the eight by ten blow-ups and examined it. The depiction of gratuitous flesh expressed a crude, sexually fuelled extreme body dismorphia. “Why you had these printed … just to annoy me? Stuff it, and stuff you.”
“I got licked by stuffing,” he bit back as if the statement made any sense.
It wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t look so much like me. “What kinda scratchplate you figure I am I’d want to look like her?” she replied with vivid ire. Between two fingers, she tossed him the photograph. Jareth scooped up the image from the floor at his feet and scanned it voraciously.
“I swear, Aaran, she looks so much like you…” he glanced repeatedly between the two women, aiming for comparison.
“Don’t you dare!”