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City of a Thousand Tears
-- EXCERPT: Ellio found a lot of interesting things poking around dumpsters in the Downs, but this was the first time he’d found a foot. Peeking out from under the bin, the glossy black nail polish shimmered from the light of a distant streetlamp. Getting over his initial shock, the young man breathed a sigh of relief when his further investigation revealed that the foot was still attached to a leg. A rather shapely woman’s leg swathed in black biomesh with metal grommets tracing up the seam from calf to thigh. Falling to his knees, he ignored the water from the puddle now seeping into his jumpsuit and the cold rain that dripped down the back of his neck. He pushed his goggles up into his dark-blue hair. Another, older set dangled from his throat as he leaned down. Ellio peered under the dumpster and was further consoled that the shapely leg was still attached to not only a torso but an entire woman’s body. She seemed to be all in one piece. Choppy black bangs fell in front of her eyes. Her face was flushed and smudged with dirt. Ragged gasps shuddered through her, breath puffing out as little clouds in the chill air. At least she was still breathing. Bodies sometimes turned up in the Downs, but not as often as one might expect. What on Elorah had happened to her? The young woman shivered. Ellio frowned. “Hey, you all right?” He shook her leg gently. The biomesh cloth of her pants alone was probably worth more than he made in a month. He cringed at the thought of getting grease on them, but then again, the young woman was passed out under a dumpster. Clearly, she had bigger problems. But just to be sure, he wiped his hands along the thighs of his coveralls a few times. “Hey, c’mon.” Ellio craned his neck underneath the dumpster to see her better. “You can’t stay here.” He gripped her leg more firmly and tugged. The woman’s head lolled back and forth limply; her eyelids fluttered but remained closed. After getting no response, Ellio partially crawled beneath the rusty trash receptacle. “’Scuse me, lady,” he whispered, sliding his hands lightly underneath her torso and dragging her out from under her makeshift shelter. He was careful not to let her bump her head on the way out. Ellio kept his hands to respectable areas, but a blush still crept up his neck as he cradled the young woman against his chest. She looked about his age, maybe a year younger. Ellio had just turned seventeen a few weeks back. He couldn’t help noticing she was beautiful, with full pink lips and a cute little nose smattered with freckles. She had golden eyeshadow like wings around her eyes. Ellio swallowed. Brushing her bangs back from her face, he held a calloused hand against her forehead. “You’re burning up!”
GIVEAWAY! --
Pranic
-- EXCERPT: “I don’t want your T-shirt,” Wade grumbled, going over to the sink. “You need something to wear. Won’t something happen if you don’t?” Wade ignored her and started to wring his jacket into the sink. “You can’t wear a toilet-water-soaked jacket home. That’s unsanitary.” Wade dropped his coat in the sink. “Look, if I take your damn shirt, will you leave me alone?” “I suppose.” She handed it over to him. Wade didn’t say anything and slipped on her Hamilton High cheerleading T-shirt. She let out a little laugh. The sleeves landed about three-fourths the way down his arms. “What?” Wade asked. “It looks good on you.” She wasn’t totally lying, either. His lean muscular frame was usually hidden under all his layers but was now on display because the shirt hugged tight around his chest, showing off his pectorals, with the ropey muscles of his forearms exposed. He furrowed his brow. “Shut up.” “Again, sorry about everything,” she said. “Look, you can leave now. You don’t have to be nice to me because your brother is an asshole.” “Somebody needs to be nice to you, and it’s not just because he’s my brother.” “Well, don’t. Go back to your cheerleading practice,” he said, practically seething. “Fine.” She crossed her arms and huffed. Most people liked Heather. She was friendly to all, so Wade and his not-so-sunshiny reaction to her was something she didn’t encounter all that often. “I’ll meet you by your locker tomorrow morning to get my shirt back.” “I’ll just give it to you now.” He grabbed the bottom hem and began to pull it up. “Nope, you need it. Where’s your locker?” He sighed. “Next to room 104.” Heather nodded and grabbed the paper towels from the sink. “Here, bend down a bit.” She motioned toward herself with her hand. He snarled his lip up at her. She pointed at his forehead. “You need some help.” “Oh, um, no, don’t worry.” He vigorously shook his head. “C’mon.” She squirted some soap on the towels and stood on her tiptoes. Placing a hand on his cheek, she started scrubbing his forehead. A tingle ran up her arm from where the tip of her fingers touched his face. She stopped cleaning his forehead for a minute, tipping her head to the side, looking at him. “What?” he asked, quirking up an eyebrow. “Nothing,” she said a bit too quickly. He grabbed her hand, trying to take back the paper towels. She gasped as she felt the tingle again. “The air in here must be really dry or something.” “Yeah, okay,” he said. “You keep shocking me.” “What?” He scrunched up his nose, staring at her. “Whenever we touch.” She put her hand on his cheek again, but all she felt was his warm face. He stared at her with his big blue eyes. “Nothing,” she whispered. He shook his head. She kept her hand on his face, looking into his eyes. She wanted to hug him, help get the sadness out of his eyes, his expression. She now saw that the way he held himself in general exuded melancholy. She mistook it for anger before, but now saw it was something else. “Hey.” He peeled her hand from his face and squeezed her fingers. “I have to get going.” “Yeah, sure.” They stood, staring at each other, a warmth filling her the longer he held on. “But thanks,” he said softly. She smiled. “No problem.”
GIVEAWAY! --
The Soothsayer
-- EXCERPT: Colin and Balaam burst past the dark creatures, knocking them over, and raced back down the lane. The serpents coiled and chased after them. “They’re following us!” Colin yelled as Balaam veered down a narrow alley of gravestones. The demons flung themselves around the tombs and closed in to pinch off their escape. “They’re cutting us off! We’re dead!” Colin shrieked as he kicked at Balaam’s sides frantically. “Yes, wonderful! Keep saying such helpful things!” Balaam yelled back and veered again, running up the sagging side of a crumbling tomb to its roof and hopping to the next one and the next like they were stones on the water. The serpents hissed and raced forward at the bases of the tombs, slithering parallel to the donkey’s course. Colin clutched Balaam’s mane as he stared, wide-eyed, ahead. They were charging towards the cemetery’s wall, several inches higher than the tombs themselves. “Wall! Wall! Wall!” Colin screamed and pulled back on Balaam’s mane. “Let’s see them try this!” Balaam yelled back as he ran across the last roof and, with a mighty jump, hurled them into the air, barely missing the wall’s ledge and crashing into a thatch cart on the other side. Colin held tight as they smashed through the cart and onto the street. Guards nearby ran forward, brandishing spears. “Halt!” “New problem!” Colin yelled as he clung to Balaam, who darted past the guards, knocking them over in his wake. “Always!” Balaam snorted as he careened down an alley and onto another street, then veered again onto the King’s Way leading to the royal courtyard. “Okay, slow down!” Colin called. “We lost them.” Balaam slowed his pace as they entered the great market. Stands, overhangs, and shops were littered with random goods. Crowds of people moved about, and merchants carried baskets of wares. “Let me have control here. Subtlety is key,” Colin whispered to the donkey. A group of guards on horseback turned onto the street before them. The captain’s face went sour. “You! Boy! Halt!” “Oh shit,” Colin moaned. “Wonderful leadership, very subtle,” Balaam said and rushed to the right, knocking over a cart and sending pottery flying. “After him!” yelled the captain, and his men gave chase. Colin spun his head around as Balaam charged down another street. The guards rushed closer and closer. One soldier grimly eyed Colin, pushing his mount ahead to match Balaam’s speed. He thrust his spear at Colin, and Colin grabbed it. The two struggled with it as they hurtled down the lane, their mounts neck and neck. The onlookers screamed and ran as the two riders knocked over merchant carts and crates between them. Without warning, a merchant pushed a cart out from a side alley in front of Colin’s opponent. Both man and horse collided with it and fell away. Two other guards replaced him within seconds. “Go faster!” Colin yelled as he kicked Balaam’s side. “I’m a donkey! Not a race horse!” Balaam called back. The lane split to the left and the right ahead. “Pick one, great leader!” Balaam demanded. “Uh, right! No, left!” Colin screamed. Balaam dashed ahead, down the left lane, and into a caravan of garments. Reams of fabric went flying, covering both Colin and the donkey. “I can’t see!” Balaam screamed. An unending ream of silk covered Colin’s face. He could hear the guards’ horses behind as he fumbled with it. “Just keep going!” Balaam flew past scattering crowds, past screaming merchants, and right through a thatched wall.
GIVEAWAY! -- |
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Photos from Simon_sees, Dmitry Karyshev
