Photography – The Golden Hour #VantagePoint

A few weeks ago, I was approached by someone from Light.co about my photography. They’re a camera company with a new technology that sounds quite interesting, but since I don’t actually have a photography blog, I was rather surprised they’d stumbled across it.

I primarily think of myself as a writer, but photography really is my second passion. When they asked if I’d like to take part in their #VantagePoint project it was such an interesting project I said yes.

The challenge was to pick my favorite location to shoot and share my favorite photo from that location and tell a bit about why I picked that location and photo.

I debated what my favorite location was for quite a while. I have a deep love for Stratford, Ontario and have taken hundreds of photos of both the charming little town and the surrounding countryside. Nova Scotia was also a favorite place because of the incredible rocky streams and waterfalls. The Great Lakes were also a contender because being near them is truly my happy place. But in the end, I chose my parents’ property.

They own fifty acres, most of which is fields and woods. It’s a really lovely contrast to the areas near the house, which are beautifully landscaped. When they bought the property from my grandma and built the house twenty-five years ago, it was a bare field with woods ringing the outskirts. They’ve planted trees (with an emphasis on native species) and made beautiful vegetable and flower gardens. The house is tucked back on an angle and the driveway curves around to reach it. As you pull in the driveway you pass some clusters of trees. To the left and right are fields with wild grasses. Next, you see the small barn and two horses grazing in the fenced in pasture. Next is the vegetable garden. And then you see the house and garage. Although only a few decades old, the house seems much older. Flower gardens ring the house and in the height of summer, it’s absolutely stunning.

The variety of subjects I can shoot on that property is what makes it so appealing. I can shoot both the wild fields and cultivated flowers. I can find an endless array of textures and shapes to do close-up shots. The area changes drastically throughout the seasons, and there’s always something interesting to point my camera at.

It was difficult to choose my favorite photo, but the one I finally settled on is a great example of what the property looks like in late summer as the sun begins to set. Photographers refer to that time as the “golden hour” when the light is softer and warmer-toned. It gives everyone and everything a magical glow.

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This particular photo was taken a few years ago. Friends met me at my parents’ house and we had a bonfire. If I remember right, it was to celebrate the engagement of friends of ours. It wasn’t a planned shoot, but I happened to grab my camera and took a handful of photos of the light, the sunset, and then the bonfire.

Although the golden hour makes everything look more beautiful, it can actually be quite difficult to capture especially as it starts to wane.  The photo can be washed out or too warm in tone, with no cooler tone to balance it out. The shadows can also be tricky. When I caught a glimpse of the sun peeking through the trees and highlighting the leaves that were just beginning to turn yellow, I knew I needed to photograph it. But capturing that was difficult.

I took a handful of shots that didn’t quite manage to get the right balance. It wasn’t until I stepped further to one side and only caught the edge of the sun in the frame that I got that perfect blend of warm light and interesting shadow and texture.

I shot it using my Canon Rebel XTi, which I’ve owned for maybe 7-8 years (I had a Canon Rebel G before that when I shot with film). I used my favorite lens, a Canon EF-S 55-250mm zoom.  It’s a really versatile lens and I find I use it most when I am shooting a wide variety of subjects. In this particular case, I was zoomed all the way out to 55mm, but if I’d wanted a close up shot of the light through the leaves of the tree I could have zoomed in to get a very tight shot. I absolutely love that flexibility.

In the end, I picked the photo because it perfectly captures the mood of that evening and the feel of the property. Sometimes it takes dozens or hundreds of pictures to get that perfect shot. And when you’re racing against the setting sun to capture the light it adds an extra challenge.

But getting that perfect shot makes it totally worth it.

Note: If you’re curious to learn more about light.co’s new camera, stop by their site. It uses a really interesting new technology. One drawback of my Canon is the size and their camera does promise DSLR-technology in a much smaller package. I am definitely intrigued by the idea.


Disclaimer: I wasn’t compensated in any way for this post.  I just found the project and camera interesting and enjoyed the chance to discuss my photography.

 

 

 

 

Flash Fiction Monday – Whiskey and Need

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“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Rey said, but there was no conviction to his tone, just thick need, barely suppressed.

The garish light from the neon motel sign lit the side of Barrett’s face and highlighted the rugged handsomeness. Rey’s chest felt tight as he looked at his partner, Barrett. Partner in the Springfield police department, that is. Not his lover. Or at least they hadn’t been.

But their mouths were inches apart and Barrett’s grip on his shirt was tight.

They’d been skirting this moment for weeks now. Months of getting to know the man under the stoic façade, months of noticing the width of Barrett’s shoulders, the solidity and heat of his body, and months of fighting it. Weeks of wondering what his mouth tasted like. Days of being holed up in this motel together and trying not to stare at Barrett’s chest, broad and lightly furred, damp from the shower as he walked around the room in a towel.

“You think I don’t know that?” Barrett’s voice was a low rumble and Rey felt his gut clench as he imagined that sound in his ear as Rey pinned him to the bed.

No, he knew Barrett understood the dangers as well as he did: work conflict, the danger of being found out by their colleagues, Barrett’s family.

Barrett half-rose in his seat, pulling Rey toward him.

Rey’s head swam; his brain entirely incapable of rational thought anymore. The throb in his groin and the need in his chest overwhelmed everything else.  They shouldn’t  … and yet  …

Barrett’s mouth landed on his, tasting of whiskey and need.


 

This week’s flash is short, but hopefully sweet.

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

 

Don’t Tell Me It’ll Be Fine – Pt. 2: The Plan

To see Pt. 1: The Rant, click here.

Last night, I got a message from a friend who lives out of state. He was in the area and asked if I was free and wanted to grab dinner. I’d actually canceled a date (the guy turned out to be racist and xenophobic, ugh) so I met my friend in Ann Arbor instead.  Although we touched briefly on the election and the consequences, our conversation primarily covered everything else.

We stayed at the restaurant until they kicked us out and it was a massive relief to laugh and joke and just enjoy a good meal. I drove home with a smile on my face, singing along to show tunes. It was glorious.

For a few minutes, I felt guilty. But I realized that I needed that break. It didn’t make me any less determined to make changes in my life or fight for myself and the people I care about. On the contrary, it allowed me to do that better.

I fell asleep easily and woke up feeling more rested than I have since Tuesday.

Today I feel mentally equipped to sit down and make a plan.

Here it is.

The Plan:

  • Set up a recurring monthly donation to the ACLU. (Already done)
  • Donate to other groups like Planned Parenthood and the Southern Poverty Law Center as my budget allows.
  • Find organizations and groups that are educational and help me connect with others who want to make change happen. (Ongoing, but I’ve already started)
  • Attend local events where my voice can be heard.
  • Contact my legislators through petitions/letter writing campaigns/calls. (Ongoing, but I’ve already started)
  • Seek out the voices of people who are marginalized and listen to what they have to say. (Ongoing, but I’ve already started)
  • Contact the Ruth Ellis Center about volunteering my time. It’s a wonderful organization in the Metro Detroit area that helps:LGBTQ youth. I donate to them around the holidays every year, but I need to do more.
  • Be scrupulously careful about only sharing verified news and information about what’s happening. There will be plenty of horrible results of this. There’s no reason to spread false information. It only hurts us. (Ongoing, but I’ve already started)
  • Vote with my dollar. Support ethical companies and actively avoid supporting companies that are contributing to the problem.
  • Stop tolerating minor comments against women/minorities/LGBTQ people. I know there are times I could have spoken up and haven’t, and that has to stop. (Ongoing, but I’ve already started)
  • Attend the Million Women March in D.C. in January to show that my voice won’t be silenced.
  • Work on learning the difference between preaching and educating people.
  • Come out to my former coworkers. If I lose them as friends that will break my heart, but I will not hide who I am anymore, just because it’s going to be difficult.
  • Allow myself  to take a break for my own mental health. (Ongoing, but I’ve already started)

Quick note: Here’s a great resource for self-care specifically for bisexual people: https://bisexual.org/self-care-for-bi-people-election-edition/

Please, please, feel free to comment with other constructive suggestions. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Don’t Tell Me It’ll Be Fine – Pt. 1: The Rant

The Rant:

You tell me to calm down. You tell me it’ll be fine.

First of all, you don’t get to tell me how I feel.

I am a bisexual woman. I have family and friends who are LGBTQ and minorities.

I am scared. I am sad. I am angry.

And I have every right to be.

Because it’s not going to be fine. It already isn’t fine.

Not when a man who ran on a platform of hate got elected to the presidency. Not when his vice president actively supports conversion therapy and stripping away the rights of women and minorities. Not when the world has seen the worst behavior not only condoned, but rewarded. Not when an Anti-LGBT hate group is running the domestic policy transition. Not when the architect of one of the most racist laws in modern US history and a man who wants to bring back McCarthy era witch hunts are being considered for prominent positions.

You tell me that there are checks and balances in the government. Yes, there are. One of those is US Senator Harry Reid who is speaking out about Trump. But with a Republican-controlled House and Senate, and the potential for Supreme Court Justice nominations those checks and balances can be eroded.

You tell me that Trump will back down and that he won’t accomplish everything he’s promised. That’s possible. But what if he accomplishes 10% of those things? Doesn’t sound like much, does it?

But what if I lose my health insurance?

What if I fall in love with a woman and no longer have the civil right to marry her?

What if my Hispanic friend’s kids are tormented and frightened and told to go back to Mexico?

What if my cousins are beaten to death because they’re black?

What if I’m raped or assaulted?

What if these things are done because of his policies or because of his hate speech?

If you voted for Trump or didn’t vote at all, can you look me in the eye and justify your choices?

Can you tell me that your beliefs are more important than my health and safety and that of everyone I care about?

I don’t hate Trump voters and the people who didn’t vote. But I do feel betrayed. You were given a chance to stand up for me, to support me, and you chose not to. If I know you personally, that cuts me deep. And the closer we are, the deeper that cut goes.

You gutted me.

Yes, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. To vote as his or her beliefs and values dictate. You say you had a right to not vote at all. That’s true.

But there are consequences. And one of those consequences may be losing my trust and respect.

I am not someone to whom anger comes naturally. Extreme emotional stress typically makes me cry. But this week, in between the tears, there has been red-hot fury like I’ve never felt before.

On Thursday, a friend said, “They woke the dragon.” And maybe that’s true. But it doesn’t feel like red-hot anger anymore. It’s still anger, but it’s something cooler. Something infinitely sharper and more effective. It’s determination.

This has been building for a long time.

To whatever degree I have kept silent when I could have spoken up, that is over now.

To whatever degree I’ve hidden my identity, that is over now.

To whatever degree I have allowed people to slide or given them the benefit of the doubt, that is over now.

I am done.

Tomorrow, I’ll finish putting together an action plan for how I am going keep these things from happening to myself and my loved ones. To all of you.

I will take some deep breaths and try to let go of the anger. I will mend fences with people I got angry with. I will try to listen to their concerns and their reasoning for their choices. I will try to reach across the divide.

But today I am angry.  And that is okay.

Flash Fiction Monday – Earning His Keep

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I whined softly as the door opened. The familiar figure appeared in the opening, staring down at me. My eyes narrowed to slits and I felt the hackles on my back rise. Silhouetted against the yellow light that streamed from the filthy fixture behind him, all I could make out was his outline. But I’d recognize the skinny limbs and protruding gut anywhere. Not to mention the voice.

“Who’s a good boy?” he coaxed. The tone was oily and condescending.

I growled low in my throat and he flinched. He tried to cover it with an awkward laugh and a moment later the wet splat of meat landed on the steps ahead of me.

“Eat up, you mangy beast,” he snarled. “Tomorrow’s the big day. You’re going to finally earn your keep.”

I snarled and the door slammed shut behind him, leaving me in near-darkness. My eyes adjusted after a moment and the faint strip of light under the door and the glow of streetlights through the filthy basement windows was enough to help me find my dinner.

Not that I needed it to find food; my nose led me right to the dripping hunk of steak. I lunged forward, the chain connected to the manacle on my ankle pulling me up tight, but the meat had landed within my reach. It was hardly fresh and the cold from the refrigeration was off-putting, but it was sustenance. I scarfed it down in a few bites, my tongue lapping up any last trace of blood off the grimy stairs. I’d learned to overcome my squeamishness once hunger got the best of me.

The man’s words lingered in my mind. Tomorrow was indeed a big day, but he’d be sorely disappointed by the outcome.

I trotted down the stairs, the metallic thud of the heavy chain dragging behind me, a constant reminder of my incarceration. It was galling. He’d never have been able to subdue a fully grown werewolf in its prime if I hadn’t been injured when he found me.

He’d had no idea what I was; all he saw was a large, ferocious dog who could easily snap a smaller dog in two. So I’d been trapped, transported, and held hostage to take part in a dog fighting ring. I snarled at the indignity.

But I’d spent the past few weeks biding my time, healing and waiting for the next full moon.  Being injured had trapped me in wolf form, but tomorrow when I was taken to the ring to fight it wouldn’t be man’s best friend I’d rip to shreds.

It would be the man who’d captured me and all of his associates.

My claws clicked loudly on the cement floors, ticking away the seconds until the bloodbath. I pictured sinking my teeth into his gut, tearing out his innards, watching while he died a slow, painful death.  I could hear the crunch of his bones under my teeth, splintering into small white shards. The smell and taste of hot, fresh blood on my tongue and sliding thickly, richly down my throat  …

Oh yes, tomorrow would indeed be a very big day.


Well that was fun!  Happy Halloween, everyone. I went to a fun Halloween party on Saturday with friends and tonight I’ll be trick-or-treating with my best friend and her family. Hope you have a wonderful day, if you celebrate! I’d love to hear about your plans.

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

 

 

Wish I Was There Giveaway

I’m dealing with a serious case of GRL envy right now. I went in 2014 as a reader and had such a wonderful time meeting people and spending a weekend thinking about books.

I swore I’d go in 2015, but life didn’t cooperate. And 2016 hasn’t been any better.

I am, needless to say, hoping 2017 will be the year!

Honestly, this past year hasn’t gone the way I’ve planned at all. I am struggling to figure out how to get books finished and out faster. I think I actually did better with it when I had the full-time job (although my health really suffered).  I haven’t quite found that balance yet.

I’m earning enough as a writer to pay my bills, but not enough to move out of my parents’ house yet. *sighs*

It’s frustrating. I feel like I’m very close to things coming together but I am not quite sure what I need to do to make that happen.

But, many, many good things are happening so I’m trying to focus on that.

This past week, my co-writer and I submitted a novel to a publisher that we’ve been working on for three years! Technically, we’ve been working on two novels (with a combined word count of nearly 200k) for three years, but we submitted the first one and are very excited about it. We should hear back in about six weeks. Eep!

I am also working on an expansion of “Pain Management”. It was the short story that was part of the “Dr. Feelgood” anthology through Dreamspinner Press. The rights have reverted back to me so I am going to expand the 10k short into a novella. I hope to release that in November.

And I am 60k words into a novel that is coming together very well. It’s in the hands of one of my betas at the moment and I am hoping that have that out by January!

In non-writing related news, my annual Stratford, Ontario weekend vacation starts tomorrow. So I’ll be going to see “Macbeth” and “As You Like It”. I’ll spend the rest of the time wandering around a pretty little town, eating delicious food, and taking photos. It’s always a lovely, relaxing time.

My Kindle app is loaded with books and I am going to do my best to do a minimum of work. Ideally none, but I’m not always very good at that.

Taking the trip the same weekend as GRL wasn’t planned, but it did work nicely. I am glad I won’t be at home moping about not getting to hang out with my favorite authors and readers!

So I thought I’d do something to make life a little more fun for those of us who can’t be at GRL.

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I’m offering a giveaway of one of my eBook titles to anyone who comments with what you would enjoy most about going to a writing convention! You can answer as either a reader or a writer (or both!).

BUT, there’s a little catch. If you see this posted on my blog, go to my FB fan group (Brigham’s Book Nerds) and comment there. If you see this in the Book Nerds group, comment on my blog.

And if you are an amazing fan who already has all of my eBooks, leave a comment anyway and we’ll figure out something else for your prize. 🙂

I will pick the winner tomorrow morning, so don’t wait to enter!

Flash Fiction Monday – And Owen Makes Three

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“You two are ridiculous.” Byron’s tone held a faint note of mingled annoyance and fondness.

“You love us.” Wade sat up and propped his hands on the concrete patio as he glanced up at his boyfriend. Bryon’s lanky good looks were set off by ripped jeans and a threadbare T-shirt. He was too damn good looking to be behind the camera, but he’d never liked having his picture taken. “Did you get a good shot?”

“Yes.” Byron settled the lens cap over the end of the zoom lens. “It’s adorable. And ridiculous.”

Wade turned to Owen and held out a fist. “We are adorable.” The cat head-butted his knuckles in agreement.

Byron chuckled. “I can’t get over how much that cat seems to understand. He’s so well-trained.”

The look Owen threw him was so disgusted Wade was grateful that Byron missed it. Shit, maybe he and Owen were going to have to be a bit more careful in the future.

“Cats are smart,” he said and held a hand out to Byron, who effortlessly pulled him to his feet.

“I know that.” Byron’s hands settled on his ass and squeezed, pulling their bodies closer together. “It’s just uncanny sometimes.”

Uncanny is right, Wade thought guiltily as Byron kissed him. If only he knew …

The kiss turned hot and needy and Wade’s thoughts were swept away in a haze of lust as Byron dragged him into the house and spread him out on the bed.

After, when they were spent and sweaty and sprawled on the bed in a post-sex haze that Byron brought up the subject again. “Look at that.” He pointed to Owen who sat on the dresser staring at them. “I would swear that cat is jealous. He’s always watching.”

Wade swallowed and tried to keep his voice light. “Come on, pets always do that. I had an ex whose cat used to lay on its belly and stare at us through the crack under the door when we had sex.”

“It’s weird.” Byron sounded vaguely disgruntled like he always did when they discussed this. “You know I like Owen, but the way he looks at me sometimes … I dunno. I would have sworn he was looking at my cock and licking his lips the other day.”

A snort escaped before Wade could stop it. “Seriously?”

“Yes!” Byron laughed. “It’s unnerving. I swear one of these days I’m going to find out he’s actually a shape-shifter or something.”

Wade flipped onto his stomach and stared at the wall. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Hey, what is it? You went all tense on me.”Byron’s hand slid across his back. “If the jokes about Owen are making you uncomfortable I’ll lay off. I know you get touchy about that.”

Wade glanced over at Owen who was still perched on the dresser, watching them intently. Wade gazed into his eyes, needing the reassurance that Owen was okay with him finally confessing the truth to Byron. Owen squeezed his eyes together tightly and gave him a quick, almost imperceptible nod.

Wade took a deep breath and let out with a shudder before he turned to Byron. “It’s not the jokes. But uh, there’s something I haven’t been honest about.”

“Okay?” Byron sounded apprehensive, and who could blame him.

“You know how I talked about the guy I was dating before you?”

“Tyler? Yeah.”

“Well, that wasn’t the whole truth. His last name was Tyler.” Byron blinked at him and a moment later the muffled thud of a cat hitting the bed. “His full name was Owen Tyler.”

Wade gently ran a hand down Owen’s soft back. “He disappeared one night and the police said Owen just vanished with a trace. For a while, they even thought I had something to do with it.A few days after the man disappeared, this beat-up tabby appeared at my doorstep. It took the cat a while to heal and even longer for me to accept the truth, but …”

Byron stared at him, open-mouthed.

“I know, it’s crazy,” Wade said weakly. “I can’t explain what happened. Owen—now that he’s a cat—and I found a way we could sort of communicate using those little magnetic refrigerator letters. He bats them around on the floor to make words when he really needs to tell me something. But the best we can figure is that he was cursed.”

“You’re telling me this whole time you’ve been in a relationship with me, you’ve still been living with your ex?” Byron gestured toward the cat. “Who is a fucking cat.”

“Yes?” Wade said. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Byron stared at Owen with an inscrutable expression. Wade could almost swear they were silently communicating like he and Owen did all the time.

“So,” Byron said, after what felt like hours, “Did you and Owen ever discuss polyamory? Because I think I may be able to help undo the curse, but I’m not losing the man I love in the process.”


This went over the usual word count, but it was difficult to set up and then conclude in 500 words. Big thanks to Helena for helping me figure out how to wrap it up.

Unfortunately, this has turned into another plot bunny for me. When am I ever going to get time to finish writing these stories??

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fiction Monday -Something New

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“How do you feel?” Raul asked.

Angelo burrowed closer, his cheek pressed against the soft black cotton of Raul’s T-shirt. “Drunk.”  His eyelids felt heavy and there was a strange and wonderful lightness in his head. Tension? Stress? He couldn’t remember what those things were. “High maybe? I dunno. Gooood.”

The rumble of Raul’s laugh under his ear was as warm and comforting as his hug. “It was okay then?”

“Okay?” Angelo wanted to sit upright and give Raul an incredulous look, but he was too content to move. “That was  … perfect. More than I expected.” He rubbed his cheek against Raul’s chest like a cat.

“I was so fucking scared. Despite the classes and all the research, I was scared shitless to actually hit you.”

“I know.” Angelo rubbed circles over Raul’s heart with his palm. That was why he’d trusted Raul to tie him up and flog him. There was no one more meticulous than Raul. He’d been so hesitant at first to bring it up with his partner. How did you tell a guy you wanted him to hit you? It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with their sex life. It was already amazing. Why mess with it? But the thought, the need, had nagged at him until he’d finally caved. To his relief, Raul had listened to him and told him he’d consider it.

It had taken months to get from that conversation to this point, because Raul never did anything halfway. Once he decided he wanted to try it, he’d thrown himself into it with the fervor of a starving man. Online research, classes, getting involved with the community, he’d taken part in it all. Angelo had been starting to worry that Raul was using “research” as an excuse to not actually act on the fantasies they’d discussed. Angelo worried too that Raul was just doing it to please him.

“Did you  … did you like it, or at least not hate it?” he asked hesitantly. A part of him just wanted to drift in the sleepy bliss that kept threatening to overtake him, but he had to know. Because he wanted this again, but not if it didn’t make Raul happy too.

Raul shifted and took Angelo’s hand and settled it over the hard length in his shorts. “What do you think?”


Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fiction Monday – No Joke

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Zach paused and nodded toward the sign on the chain link fence inside of the research facility. “Ya gotta wonder what made them put that up there. Somebody’s idea of a joke or what?”

DO NOT GIVE THE BISON PSYCHOACTIVE SUBSTANCES it read.

Gary answered with a non-committal grunt like he always did when Zach made stupid ass comments.  But the moment his back was turned, Gary shuddered and leaned on his rake. It was no joke. He’d been there that night when they’d run the experiment.

He’d seen things. Horrible things. Things that haunted his nightmares.

Those were no ordinary bison. They were demonic beats. Like minotaurs, but larger. He’d seen the red glow of their eyes and the way they’d transformed into lustful half-men.

“Just don’t forget what it says.” His voice was hoarse and scratchy.

Zach turned back to him with a puzzled frown. “What was that?”

“The sign. Don’t every fucking forget it.” He carefully raked the old, soiled straw toward the wheelbarrow. “It’s no joke, man.”


Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fiction Monday – Not Like the Movies

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It isn’t like the movies.

Vampires aren’t chalk white with pointy fangs and glowing red eyes. Sunlight and crosses have no effect and people don’t go around hunting them. Truth be told, vampires and humans manage to co-exist pretty peacefully. It hadn’t always been like that, of course. There was a nasty period about thirty years back when they came out of the monster closet and we tried to kill each other, but in the end both sides realized it was in their best interest to get along. They need our blood and we need them to keep us alive after they take it.

Generally, they aren’t anywhere near as attractive as they are in the movies either—ugly people become vampires and pretty much stay ugly—but the two across the bar from me could have gotten a part in Hollywood without blinking. Since vampire charm and mind control are as much of a legend as the fear of garlic, that’s pretty impressive.

Honestly, these two are just damn good looking.

“Want another?”

I look up from the beer I’ve been nursing for the past hour and shake my head at the bartender. She’s been trying to get my attention for half the night. She’s cute enough—if you’re into the butch look—I guess.

I’m not.

Guess she swings both ways though, because I’m as male as the vampires across the room who I’ve been watching. I sneak a peek out of the corner of my eye, but they haven’t budged.

That’s how you know they’re vampires. They don’t move a lot. They can, and they’re pretty damn strong and quick when they want, but they don’t have to be. Some prefer to blend in with us humans and mimic our movements, but others don’t give a fuck. These two have been leaning against the wall of the bar for an hour and have barely stirred. Bathed in the red glow of a neon sign, they could be posing for a photoshoot. The one closer to me has on an open leather vest, his thumb in his pocket, and is vaguely reminiscent of the better looking Franco brother. Or is it the guy from the horrible Star Wars movie with that Natalie whatsherface? I’m total crap at pop culture references, but he’s a pretty boy. Lean but muscular.

The guy with his arm around the pretty boy is equally good looking and fit. But he reminds me of a model from the awful clothing store that always reeked of frat boy cologne and plastered vaguely homoerotic pictures of preppy men frolicking together on their advertisements. He’s smoking a cigarette and staring off into space.

I prefer my men rougher around the edges and not undead, but I’m not going to have a hard time pretending to be turned on by them either. I’ve been watching them for a couple of weeks now. I’m sure they’ve noticed me watching them, and I’ve dropped hints here and there that I’ve got a vampire fetish but haven’t quite gotten the nerve to approach one.

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Still, it’s a damn good cover for my real purpose: investigating the death of my best friend. All roads lead to these two and I’m not above seducing them to learn more.  The preppy one drops his cigarette on the floor and grinds it out under his heel.

When his gaze meets mine I feel my heart kick into high gear. I don’t take my eyes off him as I slide some money across the bar and stand. My mouth tastes like cheap beer and anxiety as I cross the room.

The pretty boy turns and his full lips curl up into a knowing little smile.

“Are you coming?”

I’m not sure if the surge of elation and arousal I feel is because the next phase of my plan is about to start or because I’m going home with two vampires.

“Thought you’d never ask.”


Well, I went over the word count and I’m late posting, but I think it is a story I want to tell in the future. What do you think?

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!