Table of Contents

Summer 2008

From The Editor

Letter from Sandra Ruttan

Short Stories

Amra Pajalic

The Game

The Old Man

The Vow

The Other Shoe

Patrick Shawn Bagley

Bank Job

John McFetridge

Overtime

Russel D. McLean

Her Cheating Heart

Steve Mosby

Fruits

Grant McKenzie

Out Of Order

Patricia Abbott

Pox

Leaving

Damien Seaman

Love In Vain

Ugly Duckling

Steve Allan

Hump The Stump

Stumpy's Revenge

You and Me and Stumpy Makes Three

Stephen D. Rogers

Head Shot

Richard Cooper

Simmer Time

Sandra Seamans

Predatory

Allan Guthrie

Freckles

Brian Lindenmuth

Gun

Tony Black

London Calling

Brian McGilloway

Spoonfull of Sugar

Interview

Damien Seaman with Tony Black

Reviews by:

Sandra Ruttan

Savage Night

The Cold Spot

Brian Lindenmuth

Kockroach

The Crimes of Dr. Watson

Half the Blood of Brooklyn

Crimson Orgy

Mad Dogs

The Resurrectionist

Sharp Teeth

Lawrence

Black Man

Tricia

Hip Flask: Concrete Jungle

Chadwick

At the City's Edge

Amber

Small Favor

Madhouse

Book Excerpts

Toros & Torsos
by Craig McDonald

Paying For It
by Tony Black

Dirty Sweeet
by John McFetridge

Feature

The Graveyard Shift: blog by Lee Ofland

Predatory by Sandra Seamans

Lucian inhaled the sexual scent of the Coffin Club, his desire heightened by the manic beat of the music and the soft sighs of young women surrendering their bodies to the club's charisma.

So many beautiful girls, all shrouded in the Coffin Club uniform. Long sweeps of ebony hair draped over the curve of soft young breasts, a splash of blood red lipstick on ivory pale faces, bodies draped in funeral crepe to accentuate their lust for the dark side. Vampire girls, caught up in a cult of blood and death, believing the myth, shunning the reality of him. Lucian was the stranger mother's warned their daughters about, but in the swirling mist of music, smoke and sex, he could walk among them, just another man wrapped in black desires.

He eased across the crowded dance floor working his way to the bar. His body tingled with forbidden pleasure at the teasing press of young female bodies against him. Guilty pleasures were the most dangerous of temptations. He'd learned over the years to control his frivolous impulses, to wait for the perfect moment.

Lucian ordered a Bloody Mary and turned to watch the dancers. His eyes flitted from face to body, drinking them all in, looking for that one special girl. One that could vanish without creating a wrinkle in society's fabric.

He spotted her at a corner table, lip-locked with a Count Dracula wanna-be. She was barely sixteen and dripping with a sexual allure that could entice the most jaded heart. Her eyes, clouded with secret longings, beckoned to him as he approached the table.

Breaking off her tongue-tangling kiss, she asked, "What are you staring at old man?"

"The lovely Drucilla, keeper of eternal youth."

Her faux fangs glistened in the candlelit darkness as her lips parted to let her tongue wander the delectable pout of her shapely lips. "You're searching for immortality?"

"Searching, hoping I've found it. Perhaps in your enchanting embrace?"

Drucilla pressed a last lingering kiss on her lover's lips. Placing her hand in Lucian's sweaty palm, she maneuvered him across the dance floor and out the door into the velvety softness of the night. Lucian followed her into a hidey-hole behind a dumpster where she pulled his head down, pressed her lips against his mouth, smothering him with her passion.

He pulled away from her hungry mouth, breathless with desire. Reaching under her dress, he kneeled, pulling her panties down the length of her magnificent legs, kissing the softness of her flesh. Standing, he pressed the small of her back against the wall, holding his passion in check as his hands searched for the heartbeat in the curve of her neck.

Lucian saw the passionate glow of his blood lust reflected in Drucilla's empty eyes. He felt the heat of his blood tracking the length of his spine, but not the quicksilver glide of her knife blade, until she twisted the hilt as she pulled it from his quivering flesh.

"We're fresh out of immortality, Pops," she whispered in his ear.

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