…And we’re not just talking about the espresso! All of you in the Havok Horde and the extended fans around the ‘verse are so much fun to be around. Look at all those comments! Tracey Dyck set a new record for most comments (48!) with her story Dead Magic on Thriller Thursday. It goes to
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They couldn’t execute my second son because I couldn’t conceive him.
I burned for a second son. I burned like my first son had burned on his pyre: head tilted towards the sky, mouth open and gasping for air, neck tendons standing out like cords as the fire licked his skin and devoured his heart.
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The man came to a stop in a beam of sunlight struggling through the dust-smeared windowpane, and the glow peeled a mask of shadow off his face, revealing white skin pulled tightly over his skull and teeth visible through paper-thin lips.
I clutched the countertop to keep from staggering. Okay. Not Indy. “What are you?”
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Behind me, the aviary had grown unnaturally quiet. Scores of black orbish eyes peeped between the bars of their spacious cages—all looking at me.
When Mystic Critters hired me, they’d warned me that phoenixes are sentient. They’d failed to add that they are shameless eavesdroppers and malicious gossips.
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It wasn’t anything like TV. The engines fired, flames brighter than the sun, the sound beating at Sue’s chest. Then the launch, starting ever-so-slowly, the winged capsule atop the slender booster reaching for the sky. Sue bent backwards, shading her eyes to watch it roaring upward. She found herself whispering, “Go, baby!”
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The greeter looked tired, overworked. And she was definitely a cop. The way she stood, the way she talked…
Ah, Vinnie, I thought with amusement. All this for me?
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Will Phenny Phoenix ever find an audience who appreciates his humor?
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I’m not seasick—I live on this ship, so you can bet I’ve got my sea legs—but the old hag I stole the chalice from at New Providence must have been a witch. Her nasty shout as I ran made me smirk, but… I’m turning green. She must have cursed me!
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Only someone with a death wish would risk trespassing on werewolf territory during the full moon, but Tari was good as dead anyway.
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Everything looks huge today. Either I’m shrinking or the world’s getting bigger. I crawl down the porch steps one at a time. When did my hands become so fat and bunchy? Well, my daughter, Leisl, says I’d forget my head if it wasn’t welded on. That’s why we need the Memory Enhancer 3000.
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Ron tried to lift his hand, but he could not command his body; fear gripped him, and his mind screamed at him to flee, but helplessness consumed him…
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