A Mortal Halloween - #FridayFlash

"Come on, it'll be fun. Haven't you ever wondered what it'd be like?" Death looked at the frown on his best friend's face and tried again. "Do this as a favor to me. I've always wanted to experience Halloween the way mortals do and go trick or treating."

"I don't know—it seems awfully risky to me. What's the point?" Chronos fiddled with his hourglass as if it might disappear at Death's suggestion.

"No point, other than the novelty. We've been working too hard lately. This is our chance to play. It'll be fun."

Chronos snorted at that but relented, twisting the hourglass a full turn. "Okay, but when we get into trouble, don't say I didn't warn you."

They rode Death's chopper down the city streets until they came upon a party spilling out into the night. Death pulled over and parked, anxious to join the costumed revelers as they marched down the block.

"Whoa, dude. Nice costume. You look like Death," one inebriated mortal dressed like Darth Vader said as he passed by.

"Isn't this great?" Death said and practiced catching peanuts in his eye socket while walking with the crowd. "I wonder when we get to knock on people's doors."

Chronos merely nodded, his attention snagged by a scantily dressed slave girl who winked at him.

Glass broke behind them and the noise of the crowd became a shriek of chanting. A rock whizzed by Chronos on its way to an unknown target.

"I don't think we're going to see any trick or treating with this group."

Sirens rose to a high pitch as the night flashed red and blue. People scattered in different directions, leaving Death and Chronos wondering which way to go. A voice through a bullhorn commanded their attention while police handcuffed their arms behind their backs.

"Are we having fun yet?" Chronos asked Death.

"Oh, yes. What an experience."

Chronos shook his head at the enthusiastic answer. "I was being facetious."

Death dropped his jaw in a laugh. "Once we get to the police station, we can call the bar and have Lucien bail us out. It's perfect."

After Lucien ranted into the phone and hung up on him, Chronos studied the other inmates sharing their cell. They all scrunched into one corner, as far away from Death as possible.

"Do they recognize you?" Chronos leaned over and whispered to his friend.

"Oh, yes. Didn't I tell you? On Halloween many will perceive who we really are, although the constables don't seem to."

A commotion started down the hallway, drawing their attention. Death and Chronos watched in fascination as two officers prodded a furious Lucien into a cell across from them. Smoke boiled out of his ears and his face appeared as red as the horns on his head.

"Are you here to bail us out?" Death called over to him.

"Does it look that way to you? What did you do to my powers, you infernal timepiece. Give them back so I can get out of here!"

Chronos fingered the hourglass on his belt. "Have you had enough fun yet?"

Death shrugged, his metacarpus still wrapped around the bars.

"We can go home now, I guess." He leaned in close. "What about Lucien?"

Chronos smiled. "He's such a hothead. Maybe it'd be better to leave him here overnight."

"I'll get you for this, you rusty clock," Lucien yelled as they flicked out of sight.

"He looked really angry," Death said as they climbed on the motorcycle.

"Just playing a little trick on him." Chronos tapped his hourglass. "He's back in his bar now. Happy Halloween, my friend."

©2010 Laura Eno

50 Stories for Pakistan is Here!

Look at the image on the cover of this book.

A man and a boy knee-deep in water. Father and son? Uncle and nephew? Teacher and pupil? Or perhaps just a kid, lost, tagging on to an adult in the hope that he will be taken somewhere safe, dry?

They are wading away from the light into the darkness and gloom. The unknown. Fear. Hunger. Disease. But they are also wading towards you. They can’t ask for your help. You must choose to give it.

A simple way of doing that is to buy this book. Proceeds go to helping the victims of the Pakistan floods.

Now please take one more look at the cover. And remember, they can’t ask…

50 Stories for Pakistan features work by the following authors: Robert J. McCarter, Joanne Fox, Erik Svehaug, Susan Lanigan, Anne Mullane, Lisa Ricard Claro, R.J. Newlyn, Nuala Ní Chonchúir, Martin Webster, Jonathan Pinnock, Trevor Belshaw, Julia Bohanna, Iain Pattison, Laura Eno, Dave Clark, Pam Howes, Alun Williams, Annie Evett, Jennifer Stakes, Rebecca Emin, Marjorie Tolchard, Marit Meredith, Paul Malone, Ewan Lawrie, Jarred McGinnis, Alex Tomlin, Gail Richards, Benjamin Solah, Ruchira Mandal, Alyson Hilbourne, Ramon Collins, Darren Lee, Riaz Ali, Nasim Marie Jafry, Heather Parker, Shazia Bibi, Andrew Parrott, Brigid O’Connor, Rob Innis, Tony Williams, Annemarie Neary, Emma Newman, Robert Long, Beryl Brown, Vanessa Couchman, Joanna Campbell, Sylvia Petter, Rosemary Hayes, Paul Anderson, and Alice Turner.
(Stolen from Big Bad Media's website)

It's here!

I am honored to be a part of this terrific anthology and Greg McQueen's vision of helping those who can't ask for it.

50 Stories for Pakistan

Please, go buy a copy or three now.

A Twofer Day!

I'm in two places today! Please stop by and say hi…or boo, as the case may be.

My story, Note To Myself, is up at Erin Cole's Halloween event, 13 Days of Horror. You don't want to miss the 13 nightmares she's featuring!

I'm also a guest over at Clarissa Draper's blog, writing about tossing out the fluff in your story. Please stop in—I'll even give you some virtual chocolate while you're there.

The Art of Listening - #FridayFlash

“Did you remember to shut the windows in the back of the house? I can still feel a breeze.”

“I’ll get them in a little while. I’m listening to the game.”

“Do you hear that? It sounds like someone’s screaming.”

“What? No, I didn’t hear anything. It’s all in your head.”

“Well, if you’d take those headphones off maybe you’d hear better.”

“I’m trying to follow the game. It’s the bottom of the eighth. And would you quit peeking out the window?”

“I’ve got a right to look out my own window. There’s someone walking down the street, but it’s too dark to see anything.”

“Right. So quit looking. Jeesh, you’re a regular Peeping Tom. You’ll have Mrs. Anderson calling the cops on you again.”

“That wasn’t my fault. There it is again. Can’t you hear that?”

“I can’t hear anything, not with you talking so much. Drop the curtain and come sit down.”

“There’re two of them in the street now. They’re almost under the street lamp.”

“You’re an embarrassment, always spying on people.”

“They’re moving funny, sort of shuffling.”

“Shh…bases are loaded.”

“Did you hear that noise? I think it came from the back of the house. Go close the windows. Someone might be trying to break in.”

“If you’re so worried about it, go close them yourself.”

“Those people down the street are getting closer. They’re lurching and their clothes are all torn and dirty. I’m going to go lock the house up.”

“You know I can’t hear you when you walk away while you’re still talking.”

“I said I’m going to lo…”

“Erma? Erma? Jeesh, no need to get mad and quit talk…”

©2010 Laura Eno

Alex's Army Reporting For Duty!

Many of you may know Alex J Cavanaugh, and that the debut of his book, CassaStar, is on Oct 19th. He has many friends giving him blogspace today to celebrate. Here are the particulars:

CassaStar by Alex J. Cavanaugh
October 19, 2010 Science fiction/adventure/space opera
ISBN 9780981621067 Dancing Lemur Press LLC

To pilot the fleet’s finest ship…

Few options remain for Byron. A talented but stubborn young man with a troubled past and rebellious attitude, his cockpit skills are his only hope. Slated to train as a Cosbolt fighter pilot, Byron is determined to prove his worth and begin a new life as he sets off for the moon base of Guaard.

Much to Byron’s chagrin, the toughest instructor in the fleet takes notice of the young pilot. Haunted by a past tragedy, Bassa eventually sees through Byron's tough exterior and insolence. When a secret talent is revealed during training, Bassa feels compelled to help Byron achieve his full potential.

As war brews on the edge of space, time is running short. Byron requires a navigator of exceptional quality to survive, and Bassa must make a decision that could well decide the fate of both men. Will their skills be enough as they embark on a mission that may stretch their abilities to the limit?

“…calls to mind the youthful focus of Robert Heinlein’s early military sf, as well as the excitement of space opera epitomized by the many Star Wars novels. Fast-paced military action and a youthful protagonist make this a good choice for both young adult and adult fans of space wars.” - Library Journal




Links to purchase:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Bam



Also available in eBook format for Kindle, iPad, Nook, and others

Bio:

Alex J. Cavanaugh has a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree and works in web design and graphics. He’s experienced in technical editing and worked with an adult literacy program for several years. A fan of all things science fiction, his interests range from books and movies to music and games. Currently he lives in the Carolinas with his wife.
http://alexjcavanaugh.blogspot.com/

And The Winner Is...

The winner of the free pdf version of Chinese Whisperings, The Yin Book is...

Anthony Venutolo of Bukowski's Basement!

Congratulations, Ant!

For everyone else, remember the Chinese Whisperings Yin & Yang Books are now on sale in ebook form! Ten female writers (including me) are featured in the Yin Book, while ten male writers complete the Yang. You can purchase each separately or buy both for twice the fun. The paperback version will be available in December.

Chinese Whisperings

It's A Party!

Welcome to the virtual launch party of Don't Fall Asleep, the first in a series of Dream Assassin Novels. There are assorted goodies over on the side tables, so help yourself. Please note that Jezebel is swimming in one of the punch bowls so I would suggest serving yourself out of the other bowl.

I'd like to thank all of you who have continued to encourage me on my writing journey. Without your support, I'm not sure where I'd be right now.


Description from the back of the book:

In the 27th century, a psychic aberration has manifested in humanity, gifting a select few with the ability to weave dreams for others. They ply their addictive trade, calling themselves Dream Merchants.

Rarer still are those who can assassinate people while they dream…

Newly arrived on Altair IV, Cassandra Dade works her profession as a Dream Assassin according to her own code of ethics. She's beautiful, rich and running from her past—a past which is about to catch up with her.

The partner she trains might be all that stands between her and mental destruction, a fate worse than death. But does his own secret agenda set them on a collision course with disaster?

If you didn't catch the excerpt last week, you can find it here.

Where to buy:

Amazon Trade Paperback

Amazon Kindle

Amazon UK Kindle

Smashwords

Thank you so much for your continued support! I appreciate each and every reader more than I can say!

Chinese Whisperings - Win The Yin Book!

You have a chance to win a free PDF of the Yin Book just by leaving me a comment! How easy is that? Leave your comment here before midnight of Friday, the 15th and I will announce the winner on this blog at noon EST on Saturday, the 16th. Multiple comments won't count. :)

The Chinese Whisperings Yin & Yang Books are now on sale in ebook form! Ten female writers (including me) are featured in the Yin Book, while ten male writers complete the Yang. You can purchase each separately or buy both for twice the fun. The paperback version will be available in December.

The experience of collaborating with other writers on this was amazing and I would like to thank the editors, Jodi Cleghorn and Paul Anderson of eMergent Publishing, for inviting me to participate. It was a wild ride!

Chinese Whisperings

Prophecy Moon Review

I woke up this morning to find another great review for Prophecy Moon on Gather! I'm thrilled and delighted, jumping up and down, clapping my hands...

Sorry, got carried away there for a moment. Go have a read here:

Gather

While you're at it, drop over to Sheila Deeth's blog, the author of the review. She has several more reviews listed, as well as her own recently published book, Refracted, for sale.

To Die For - #FridayFlash

Craziest Gadgets


The special-delivery box arrived the night before the big party, the one she'd been invited to even though the director had snubbed her.

"I need a fresh look, someone younger," he'd said. "You understand."

Yes, she understood. Tomorrow night, so would he.

Her fingers traced the contours of the box before opening it, revealing the perfect pair of high heels. Crafted in the image of an alien from the movie, they were undoubtedly a head-turner.

She tried them on, reveling in the sensation as they caressed her feet.

"Are you ready to go hunting, my darlings?"

The heels chittered in anticipation.

©2010 Laura Eno

Thanks to Icy at Icy's Blunt Pencil for giving me the idea with her FB post of the heels. They rock!

Don't Fall Asleep

The first novel in my Dream Assassin series, Don't Fall Asleep, will be available soon! This project is near and dear to my heart, so I wanted to give you a taste of what's to come. Here is an excerpt:



Light bounced off alley walls in odd places amid the swirling tendrils of fog. Cassandra's heels clicked on cobblestone, the only sound in this junkie's paradise. She knew her quarry heard her footsteps, but imagined his mind tried to fit the sound into his fevered dream as something he created. She smiled. He was in for a nasty surprise.

The only smell in this jumbled place was the man's essence—a mixture of onion/cold/mold that made Cassandra's sinuses ache. Doorways hung at odd angles on either side of her but she ignored them. The man she came for sat against the wall at the end of the alley, a pool of light cast over him like a damn spotlight.

Bloodshot eyes studied her without enthusiasm; she wasn't the pre-pubescent type that got his rocks off.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Death." A blaster appeared in her hand. His eyes widened in understanding just before she shot him.

The alley disappeared, replaced by a gray nothingness that swept his stink away as well. Cassandra smiled in grim satisfaction before stepping out of the dead man's head. Another pedophile off the streets, dead from an apparent heart attack.

She awakened back in her own body, superstition driving her to a mirror to make sure she came back unchanged. Angle-cut auburn hair and startling blue eyes gazed back at her, allowing Cassandra to let go of the tension in her body.

Relaxing on the black leather sofa, Cassandra took in the high ceilinged room with its white walls and carpet, letting the minimalist effect wash over her. She stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the city lights far below her perch on the cliff. Peace stole over her with surroundings so unlike the jumbled constructions of other people's dreams.

One of the hazards of being a Dream Assassin, she thought, having to poke around in the sewers of someone else's creations. She climbed off the sofa and stretched. There was still much to do before the sun rose. She left the house to continue her search.

Cassandra headed to the underbelly of the city. She wanted to experience the heartbeat of the metropolis, not shiny metal and glass buildings full of tourists ogling the sights. The Dream Merchants didn't work up top. They plied their trade down below among the desperate. One of them would make a suitable partner, although she hadn't found one yet in two months of searching.

The nondescript bar Cassandra walked into seemed like dozens of others—smells of booze and sweat, her senses reeling from unsavory essences only a Dream Merchant could read. She blocked them out and wove her way through the tables in the dim light, sitting in a corner where she could watch the customers.

There. In the opposite corner. Another Dream Merchant, weaving dreams for sale as she once had. Cassandra studied the good-looking man as he dealt with a steady stream of customers. He must be an excellent weaver, with a clientele who raced over to him the moment they hit the door.

She let down her barrier for just a moment and watched his head pop up, scanning the crowd as he sensed her. Good. He's quick-witted.

During a lull in his work, Cassandra walked over to the dark-haired man. "Can I buy you a drink?"

He looked up at her with jade-green eyes and a sardonic smile on his face. "Sorry, lady. I don't swing that way."

She smiled back and dropped her mental barrier, watched his eyes first widen then narrow as he recognized what she was.

"I'm not asking for a date. I might have a business proposition for you though." She walked back to her table and let him think it over. His essence was the first one she'd found that Cassandra thought she could work with. He was cinnamon/warm/lemon with a bitter tinge to it. She wondered what had happened in his life to put the bitter there.

Menace rolled off a heavy-set man as he walked in the door, his pug-face scowl deepened further as he walked by the Merchant's table before disappearing into the back room. The man Cassandra waited for raised his glass at the bartender and strode over to her table, flipping a chair backwards before sitting on it.

"The name's Nathan Wilder. And yours?"

"Cassandra Dade." She watched his expression—cool smile but alert for any trouble. "What's the story on Mr. Big, Bad and Ugly?"

Nathan laughed and relaxed a fraction. "The owner thinks I should give him a cut of my profits for using his bar."

Cassandra chuckled and twirled ice in her glass, taking in the faded red wallpaper and burned-out lights above the liquor display.

"You probably bring in more customers than he would ever see without you."

"He knows that, but he doesn't believe in Dream Merchants. He thinks I'm dealing in illicits and complains that Enforcement will find out."

"Did you ever weave a dream for him?"

"Sure, I did. He called it the power of suggestion, although he did admit it was unlike any dream he'd ever had." Nathan shrugged and downed his drink. "I haven't seen you around and I know most of the Merchants. What's your specialty?"

Cassandra observed him while he studied her with greater interest than he would care to admit. That told her he was bored with his present circumstances and looking to put his talent to something new. Otherwise, he would have defended his territory against her.

"I'm looking for a partner. If you're interested, meet me Topside tomorrow in the Golem Café at noon." She stood to leave, meeting his puzzled expression with a smile. "As for my specialty, I don't weave dreams anymore—I enter them."

©2010 Laura Eno