25 March 2011

"Race" #Fridayflash


Brit slipped on his racing gloves, smoking a cigarette down to the filter, only to light another one. His knuckles strained against the English leather, fingers clamped tight atop the steering wheel.

“He's not going to show after all.” He smirked, relaxing slightly. Cockiness reared its pointed head and he took a nip from the silver flask in his inside jacket pocket. The blue 'Stang purred around him in approval. Nothing could beat his car. Underneath the hood he had a secret. A little switch under the dash. One flick and he was gone daddy gone.

Thunder rolled in off the highway. A deep rumble drifting up to the precipice. Ghastly blue reflected off the scraggly weeds clinging to life on the rocky edges.

“I'll be damned,” Brit growled and popped the handbrake.

The stranger rolled up next to him and tipped his hat. Lightning flashed overhead without the barest threat of rain. Brit shivered and gave a curt nod to his opponent.

Cindy went to stand between the two cars, short plaid skirt whipping in the breeze. Her fishnets were torn, exposing white flesh. She pulled a scarf from around her wrist and raked her blonde hair from one cheek to blow Brit a kiss. He heard the stranger's laugh.

The scarf went up. Then down.

Cindy was pelted with thousand of tiny bits of rock and dirt as the two muscle cars blew out of there, nose-and-nose, flank-to-flank. Tires scudded on the dirt, chrome flashing as both cars gained purchase at the same time. Brit had to admit, the old man was good. He dug the gearshift into fourth and the 'Stang screamed in response, ripping it up to fifth again once he'd gained on the stranger. The 'Stang chomped up the dirt, snarling as Brit pushed it to redline. He flipped on the radio and cranked up a metal song, riding the high that only this kind of race could provide.

The stranger cut him off at the curve, snapping back into first place. Brit cursed and slapped the wheel. The ass end of the 'Stang skidded in a half-arc before Brit commandeered it back into submission. The stranger had no brake lights.

They broke out of the turn clawing for lead, the stranger's ghoulish Dodge pissing blue flame, dwindling arcs of cerulean embers left to bounce to nothingness in the rearview. A cold bead of sweat rolled down in Brit's left eye and he brushed it away. He could see the shimmer of the violet haze as he pulled to the stranger's rear wheel on his side. The inside of the car was black as a sack of crows.

The straightaway loomed ahead and Brit flipped the switch, releasing the nitro into the engine. The 'Stang shrieked and rocketed forward. He laughed like a madman as he saw the black Dodge fall behind, until the headlights were two little dots in the mirror.

The nitrous gave out almost as quick as it'd kicked in and the 'Stang's speed fell. The finish was up ahead somewhere. Brit peered through the dirty windshield and didn't see the black Dodge fly up behind him.

Metal collided with a sick crunch, and Brit was thrown forward into the steering wheel. He downshifted and tried to shake his tail but the stranger might as well been painted there. Another impact, and Brit busted his lip on his own skull ring. He tried to brake, but they didn't respond. The 'Stang went faster.

They blew past the waiting victory committee and out towards the mesa's edge. The stranger showed no relent and kept his nose up Brit's tailpipe, smashing into it every now and then. Brit'd go left, the black Dodge would swerve left. Brit swung to the right and the stranger would smash into him until he went straight again. The end of the road showed in his headlights. Brit shit his pants as he drove through the barrier.

The fall took forever.

17 March 2011

What Happens in Vegas - A Conclusion

Hello again,

The past twenty hours have been a complete mess, but I have learned a valuable lesson. Sometimes you have to let the other team win to protect your star athletes. I didn't know I'd get such a turnout to my defense. It's amazing how much support I received.

Unless I find copy-and-paste in the future, I'm not going to look. I have alerts installed that inform of the goings-on like any good little writer should. I'm not admitting defeat, only an agreement extended to stay in my corner and not let the small things/similarities/discussions provoke me.

The large blog of explanation has been pulled because I want this to be over. I can see from here it has flamed out of control due to the passionate people involved and that's not what I came here for. That's not what I stand for as a writer.

I came here to write fiction. And you all wondered why I never blogged about myself. Reality can be frightening.

CC

16 March 2011

On M.

I'm an easy going writer, or at least I'd like to think I am. Sometimes I pull other people close in order to share my universe and fundamentals with me. I pit my characters against other people's characters. And sometimes, I get burned.

The letter "M" by itself is no big deal. I have two people I know whose names start with M, and who sign their letters as simply M. And then I have "M".

M is a character who has a name of Magnus. He has been shared with a few writing partners and not so much the public because I'm working on Crooked Fang. Imagine my shock when a former writing companion decided to use that mechanic in her newest release.

My M goes only by M. I can prove it. He even has a Twitter account. He has gone by only M for a long stinking time, and this author couldn't wait to prove that it doesn't mean a damn stuck it in her excerpt not once, but twice in one page. I'm gobsmacked.


There have been other infractions of course, little things I've let slide. But this M thing? It really burns me raw. Really raw. Why? Because I've used it for years and now it's being used in a book that also has a title that runs a parallel to M's little nickname. A M/M book.

So you, author. I hope you're proud of what you did there. There's a fine line between inspiration and absolute imitation.

Watch yourself.

CC

11 March 2011

Important Announcement Regarding Crooked Fang

Greetings friends,

In June of 2009, I started Crooked Fang as my way to tell the story of Xan Marcelles. It started out as a screw-off project, wasn't updated regularly, and really just made no sense at all. But I enjoyed writing him as a strong main character, whereas before he'd always been a secondary. He had a good strong voice, and he had his own story. So I kept up on it. With the support of my new-found network on Twitter, his readership grew at a respectable rate, and the feedback I received encouraged me to try harder, and to perform at a more professional level. I started posting weekly, even though every indication insisted that I didn't have the time. At the time I was also doing weekly flash fiction via #Fridayflash which I eventually halted in favor of more pressing projects, but at the front always was my beloved Crooked Fang.

Friends, readers, I've decided that Crooked Fang can indeed be made into a novel, and with the help of some very generous and talented people, I am working to make this dream a reality, even to the extent of producing an original album after fate or destiny crossed my path with a certain musician.

I hope to have this all worked out by October, or at the very least the album. The novel should release around the same time but bear in mind, this is all brand new to me. Those of you who know me know when I plan something I take years to execute it and when I do execute it, I set fires.

So I'm throwing down a match, watching the trail blaze up to the date I have in mind for Crooked Fang to become a reality. Will it glow in the night as a beacon? Or will it explode?

Only time will tell.

Crooked Fang has been posted for free to any internet passersby for nearly two years. As of April 1, 2011 that will no longer be the case. I have a Guest List, which is a personal email list used by Xan Marcelles “himself” to email his readers. Only those people will continue to enjoy the story's continuation and extras while I finalize the first draft and beyond, up to publication.

For any of you interested in joining this exclusive list to receive communications regarding the project and from the vampire himself, please email this address and simply state you wish to be signed up. This is a legalities to prevent accusation of spam, and there are no exceptions to this rule to receive these sorts of goodies.

You can also “Like” Crooked Fang at his gorgeous new Facebook page address.

For what it's worth, I'm excited. Scared. Amused. Very broke. This is not a tiny undertaking.

I think you will all be pleasantly surprised at the manifest of my team's efforts.

Kindest regards,

Carrie Clevenger