Monday, July 29, 2013

Missing Madeline...

Good Monday morning, friends! Hank here, filling in for JR Boyd this time around. I've got a special treat for all you zombie fans out there. Havan and Lee challenged me to write a flash fiction piece based on the photo below. Havan mentioned zombies and I took the idea and ran with it. So, as a pre-cursor to my upcoming release from Wilde City Press Stakes & Spurs - Venom Valley Book Two, I'm posting it here to share with all of you!

We've got some fun stuff planned for you the last half of the year in Story Orgy land (ville? topia?). We're finishing up a fun anthology filled with never before seen stories, all written around the concept of bad boyfriends (and who amongst us hasn't had one or two of those in their past, am I right?). And we're also planning to release an anthology of Christmas themed flash fiction pieces later this year, so be sure you're nice while you're being naughty so you aren't left off Santa's list. ;-)

Now, without further ado, enjoy something creepy crawly and slightly sexy. You can thank Havan and Lee for the nightmares.

Missing Madeline


by Hank Edwards

(c) 2013


Scott stood with his back against the brick wall. He listened to the shuffle of feet just outside the alley
and watched the long shadows stagger past. The sounds had been the worst part of the zombie apocalypse at first, but not anymore. Scott had come to realize the smell was the worst part. He could deal with the moaning and shuffling, the click and scrape of fingernails that kept on growing as every other part rotted away. But the smell was definitely worse.

He'd thought coming back to his hometown just outside Toledo had been a good idea. But his parents' house had been in ruins. He'd taken hope that they had survived long enough to flee by the evidence of packed suitcases. Scott had scavenged a few mementos—some photos and keepsakes—and shown them to Troy in the quiet hours they spent together. Talking about the past, the good times with family, seemed to calm Troy down. He'd been a mess when Scott had found him on campus, and though they'd only been seeing other a couple of weeks, Scott had felt protective of the man.

And the fact that Troy was incredibly handsome and well-hung didn't hurt, either. If you're going to live through a zombie apocalypse, you might as well be getting some, and getting it good.

The herd of undead ambled off along the street and Scott let out a quiet breath. He gave the zombies another five minutes before he reached down and picked up the backpack stuffed with supplies. Things were getting more scarce, they'd have to consider moving soon. Maybe find a car—plenty to choose from—and head down south for the winter.

He hustled, ducked, and darted back to the luxury hotel where they had established their latest home. A clot of zombies staggered around the middle of an intersection, and Scott crept around them, distracting himself with thoughts of Troy. He thought about touching the man, sucking him, feeling Troy's hard length push inside him, and the way it left Scott stretched wide and filled with cum.

Second best thing about a zombie uprising: nobody used condoms.

Using the old throw-a-rock trick, Scott sent the zombies staggering off away from the hotel's back entrance then slipped inside the dark, cool back hallway.

Up in the penthouse, the smell of death was strong, and Scott checked to see if Troy had opened windows, but they were sealed shut. Scott figured the smell had gathered in his clothes and up his nose.

"Troy?" Scott called. "You here?"

Troy walked quickly out of the hall leading to the two bedrooms, his smile wide and eyes flashing with excitement. "Hi honey!"

Scott frowned. Troy hadn't been handling his family's gruesome fate well, but this demeanor was a new level of crazy.

"Hi. You okay?" Scott asked, a little nervous to hear Troy's reply.

"Uh huh, I'm great. I have a surprise for you."

A thump sounded from the end of the hall.

"What was that?" Scott asked, hand dropping to the handle of the gun at his waist.

"That's your surprise. Come see."

Scott followed Troy down the hall, his gaze dropping of its own will to the man's fine, rounded ass. He admitted to himself he was a little bummed to not find Troy wearing only an apron and cooking dinner like the last time he had come back from a run. But there was time, right? All the time in the world.

Troy stopped at the door to the second bedroom, the one where they stored clothes and the overflow of canned goods. He turned and smiled at Scott. "You know I've been missing my family."

A nervous flutter went through Scott's stomach. "Yeah."

"It really tore me up," Troy said, and his voice cracked as tears gathered in his eyes.

"Oh, honey." Scott started to step forward but Troy held up a hand.

"No, it's okay. I've come to terms with it."

Scott kind of doubted that, but he held his tongue.

"So when you've gone out on supply runs, I've been going out on investigative runs."

"Investigative runs?"

Troy nodded and the bright smile returned. "Uh huh. I've been tracking down someone special." He reached for the doorknob.

Scott wanted to make Troy stop. He wanted him to not open that door, to never open that door, and he wanted him to not be as crazy as he feared he already was. But Troy had already grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

The smell rushed out at him and Scott gagged and took a step back, covering his nose and mouth as his eyes watered. He squinted against the stench and then widened his eyes as he saw what Troy had done.

Scott's mother, Madeline, stood in the middle of their spare room. She had been chained by the ankle to the foot of the four poster bed and it kept her from reaching them as she lurched forward. Her eyes—once so blue—were clouded and held no spark of recognition. Her teeth were stained and a deep gash marred the right side of her face.

Her right arm had been torn off, leaving the sleeve of her lightweight sweater—a sweater Scott had given her for her birthday two years ago—dangling at her side.

"I invited your Mom for dinner!" Troy said, and Scott was terrified by what he now realized was a gleam of psychosis in the man's eyes.

"She seems real nice," Troy said, looking back at Madeline who still tried to get to them, bite them, eat them. He winked at her and then turned to whisper to Scott, "I think she likes me."

~~ END ~~

Well, Story Orgy friends and fans, I hope you enjoyed my little undead treat on this last Monday of July. Come back next week when another Story Orgy member will leave you a little treat. I hope you have a great work week and a fantastic start to the month of August. I'll be back in another six weeks with some more tantalizing goodies. Until then, be safe and be kind to each other.

Monday, July 22, 2013

His Admirer: Last Year's Prompt Story Set To Make A New Appearance!




His Admirer is newly edited, revised and expanded for publication! 

It should be available at ebook sellers everywhere  in early August. 

So How about a quick peak at the revised version of Zeke and Gabe's story?






Chapter One

"Battle: Salmon!" Kenji Fukui had just announced the ingredient in the first ever Iron Chef battle, when the familiar yet unexpected rap came on my door. Typically, my traitorous heart pounded, and anticipation stirred. It had to be Gabe, with that silly patterned knock.
I jumped off the couch and smiled weakly at my sister. "Um…"
She frowned at me. "Zeke? Is that him? I thought we were gonna hang out tonight?
Mindy and I were hardly dressed for company. She'd been home all summer, and we'd scarce spent any time together. Tonight was supposed to be for us, back to back episodes of our favorite campy television program, watching the judges gush over fish gut ice cream, and Ben and Jerry's by the tub.
We'd planned, plotted, and finagled for this night of twin bonding. Why the hell was Gabe banging on our door?
"Yeah. It's him. I…"
She waved a spoonful of Chunky Monkey in my direction. "Go. See what he wants, but if you're not back in before the end of the show, I'm going to eat the Chubby Hubby, too."
Mindy was great like that. "Thanks, Mindy. I swear, I did not double book on this night." The little excited pitter patter of my heart wouldn't let me be too mad at Gabe though. He was a busy guy, and I didn't see him as often as I'd like. The habit he'd developed lately of dropping by without notice, though, bothered me. On the one hand, I considered as I strolled to the front door, it meant he was comfortable and happy in our relationship, which I had to see as a plus.
On the other, it seemed that expecting me to be home and available without notice struck me as taking advantage. I didn't care for that at all.
I pulled open the front door and was assaulted by two completely different types of heat.
One was due to the late evening humidity and the high temperatures, but the other was all Gabe.
Tall, broad shouldered, thickly muscled, with his brilliant light blue eyes and, ummm, the scent of hard work clinging to him. The quirky little grin on his lips told me he'd noted my interest.
"Hey," I forced the words past my suddenly dry mouth. A drop of sweat beaded on his brow and I watched it trickle down his temple and into the faint stubble of his jaw.
"Hey, yourself." Gabe leaned forward and my vision blurred as he kissed me. I might have fallen on my ass if he hadn't held me up with his arm around my waist.
When did that happen? I chased his lips for another kiss, savoring the taste of man and mint and the mingled odors of outdoors and wood and sweat that comprised Gabe. No fancy cologne had ever done it for me like the natural smells that clung to Gabe after a day of work.
"Did, um…" My voice faded as he shifted his focus to nibble at my neck, tugging aside the neckline of my Dolce and Gabbana tee. It felt so damn good, the nip and suck of his mouth along my collarbone that I couldn't even bring myself to protest the potential ruination of my favorite designer wear. Closing my eyes, I let the sensations sweep through me, the rough caress of his stubbled jaw on my skin, the slick glide of his tongue.
"Zeke? I’m opening the Chubby Hubby!"
Mindy hollered from the back of the house, breaking the fog of lust that had begun to drown me. I pushed gently against Gabe's chest, shivering a little as the muscles bunched under my touch. He pulled back and smiled down at me, lips glistening, tempting me to toss aside the night I'd planned and dive right back into his mouth and the passionate interlude it promised. "Did we have plans?" Was that my voice, so deep and husky? If I could sound like that all the time I'd be a radio DJ not an aspiring chef.
"No, I finished up an installation at your neighbor around the block's place and thought I'd stop by on the off chance that you'd be here. When I saw the car in the drive I figured I'd stop."
I was mesmerized by the drops of water gliding down his nose and cheeks, by the flush on his skin and the sparkle in his eye. That was the only excuse I could think of for what happened next. Blinded by lust. "Come in. Mindy's here but we can go to my room."
The door swung shut behind him and he spun me around against the wall for another kiss. I couldn't help arching up into him, grinding my cock against his thigh in search of a little relief from the ache of need that had blossomed with the first sight of him.
"He gone now?" Mindy shouted again.
"Am I interrupting?" Gabe whispered against my lips.
I jerked back to reality with a crash. Gabe stared at me, a little frown between his brows. I rubbed it away with my thumb. "No," I called back. "You got your pants on? We're coming back there."
I grabbed Gabe's hand and half dragged him down the hall to the family room. "We were just cuddled  up back here eating ice cream and watching some Iron Chef," I explained.
"Okay." He accepted my assertion, but how would Mindy react?
She gave me a telling frown when I dragged Gabe into the room behind me. "Hey, Min. You don't mind if Gabe joins us, do you?"
The frown vanished to be replaced by a polite smile. "No, come on in." Mindy swung her bare legs off the couch and dropped the Chunky Monkey container on the coffee table. "In fact, since you're here to keep my baby brother company, I think I'll just go on back to my room and make a few phone calls."
"You don't have to do that, Mindy," I protested. "We only have a few weeks left before you go back."
She did that thing I hate where she flips her hair over her shoulder and acts dumb. "Yeah, but I got to call some people up there and make sure that everything is set for my apartment in the fall."
Having stripped off his t-shirt, Gabe slipped into the nest of blankets on the sofa and held an arm out to me. Mindy rolled her eyes and flounced down the hall. I let go of my disappointment at Mindy's exit and climbed into his lap. Tugging a blanket over us. Strangely enough, my parents insisted on running the air conditioning at a consistent seventy-two degrees all summer long, so no matter how hot it was outside, I always felt a bit of a chill inside. My pop said it was more economical, and he wasn't one to take into consideration the fact that I was freezing half the time, so I wore flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt for this lounge night.
"What are you watching?" Gabe was staring at the television with an expression of something akin to horror.
I glanced at the screen, where Morimoto was hacking the head off a huge salmon. "Classic Iron Chef. It's fantastic. Have you ever seen it? They make all this really beautiful food, using parts of the ingredient that we'd never use in America."
"Okay."
Seeing his lack of enthusiasm, I shrugged and settled myself closer against him. "It's DVR'ed. If you want to watch something else, the remote is on the table behind you. I've seen this a million times anyway."
His sigh of relief jostled me as I rested my cheek against his chest. When Gabe stretched back to reach behind for the remote, I nuzzled his arm pit, soaking up the scents of him, feeling my senses reel with the intensity of his presence. I blew out a breath and he jerked, grabbing my ass with one hand.
"That tickles!"
"I know." I licked a stripe down from his pit to his nipple and set about amusing myself as he switched the channel to something that sounded like football. The tangy salt of sweat and the underlying flavor of soap and Gabe's skin enticed me to continue.
Strong fingers combed through my hair, holding me in place as I took a lick of a taut brown nipple.
Sighing, Gabe pushed me closer, and I knew what he wanted. I sucked the nub into my mouth, flicked it with my tongue until his fingers clenched and he groaned. "Your sister?"
"She's not going to come back out here. That was her not so subtle way of telling me to get some when she left earlier." I tipped back and dragged my tongue up his Adam's apple, over his chin to settle my mouth against his again.
I licked and nibbled and teased until he took over the kiss, pressuring my mouth apart, crushing our lips together so he could plunge his tongue to the depths of my mouth. I sucked his tongue, rubbed against it with my own. We strained together, until I slowly became aware that I was humping against him furiously. Cock creating a wet spot on my pj's, lungs practically burning from lack of oxygen.
It was my turn to pull back, and he nearly refused to let me.
"Wait." I pushed upright, so I sat a stride his lean hips. Thrusting up, he brushed the ridge of his cock, straining at the zip of his jeans, against my crease. "Yeah, I want that," I murmured, pulling my T-shirt up over my head and tossing it to the side. "But I don't have anything in here."
His eyes nearly crossed, and his grip on my hips tightened. "We can go to your room, or you can lift off me so I can get my wallet out."