This was originally titled Quicksilver Messenger, but based on some ideas from readers I have made some changes and retitled the series. In addition, I have a new editor that helped clean up some of the speed bumps in the story. Thanks to Glenn514. It is still the same basic story and the changes are not massive, but to me it is enough to warrant a new versi...
Recumbent Upon a Bed of Thorns Alistair: the final chapter They lie with the warriors, the Nephilim of old, who descended to Sheol with their weapons of war. They placed their swords beneath their heads and their shields upon their bones, for the terror of the warriors was upon the land of the living These sons of Adam had come to my home with larceny in...
*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age. Disclaimers: Yes, I need an editor. No, I do not want an editor. If this bothers you that much, quit reading. Yes, there's too many people to keep track of, yes it jumps around too much, yes it's too long, yes it's too short, yes it's in the wrong categor...
"Nigger lover!" The sound of my father's voice echoes up out the past to me as I drive past the state line for the first time in forty-three years. I can still hear my mom crying after the slamming of the door, the loud shattering of glass from the other side of the closed door. I never found out just what was broken in such fury. Fury I caused. The mile...
Chapter IV Officer John Rodgers opened his eyes. It was 5:55. The sun was rising on the horizon in a rancid, filthy alley in Anacostia, a section of Southeast Washington, DC, known for its high incidence of violent crime. Rodgers was staring down at the teenager he had just subdued seconds ago at gun point. He was, to say the least, nonplused. What in Hel...
Chapter IV Officer John Rodgers opened his eyes. It was 5:55. The sun was rising on the horizon in a rancid, filthy alley in Anacostia, a section of Southeast Washington, DC, known for its high incidence of violent crime. Rodgers was staring down at the teenager he had just subdued seconds ago at gun point. He was, to say the least, nonplused. What in Hel...
Author's Note: This is my seventh semi-annual "invitational." The initial one was based on the Statler Brother's song, "This Bed of Rose's." The most recent invitational included songs written or performed by Willie Nelson. The current effort consists of stories based on song titles that have a weather term in them, such as "Stormy Weather, "Foggy Mountain...
Life intruded in such an way that this chapter too far to long to write and I apologize. Since last I wrote, I've traveled nearly 3500 miles and moved house. Even my partner wondered if I'd ever get it done. However, In a very odd way, my life has been paralleling Ginny's. My life turned upside down and two sweet mischievous little pups to deal with on a dai...
(This story further develops themes and situations from a short story entitled "Beanie and Spiro's Great Adventure") INTRODUCTION First off, this here story is written in the vernacular, it corresponds to the way people talk. Our two hillbilly protagonists are not rocket scientists, just two wonderfully dumb highly-sexed Texan kids. They enlisted in the Na...
Chapter 1 The long hard winter had taken its toll on the city and its inhabitants. The streets were a slushy, wet mess thanks to a sudden spike in the temperature. Rivulets of melted sludge from the snow piles heaped against the curbs dribbled into filth plugged storm drains. Eager for the reprieve from winter's icy siege, dwellers of the magnificent city a...