One Piece, Volume 9: Tears Review

One Piece, Volume 9: Tears  

Author: Eiichiro Oda

Publisher: Viz Media

American release date: January 3, 2006

Format/Genre/Length: Manga/Shonen/208 pages

Publisher/Industry Age Rating: Teen

Overall Personal Rating: ★★★★★

“Sawtooth”Arlong and his pirate gang have held Coco village captive for years, extracting tribute on a yearly basis in exchange for allowing them to live. When foolhardy Usopp challenges that rule, the village is angry with him, fearing that he is endangering their safety. Nami appears to see what’s going on, lugging her precious berries. If she can collect 100 million of them, the pirates have promised to sell her the village, and she is determined to make her goal, no matter how she has to do it.

Synopsis:

Meanwhile, Zolo has been busy in Arlong Park. Hearing the trumpet blast, he gets a ride from an obliging octopus, as Luffy and the others are confronted by Momoo, the giant sea cow.

Returning to the Park, with Usopp in tow, Sawtooth is dismayed at what he finds. Especially when he learns how the perpetrator has been able to escape his vengeance. Usopp is in quite a quandary, and begs for his life. In order to prove that she is trustworthy and one of them,  and to allay their suspicions that she aided Zolo, Nami has no choice—she has to kill Usopp.

After Luffy and Sanji land on the island, a wild-eyed Johnny tells them of Usopp’s demise. Meanwhile, a navy ship has appeared off the shore of Arlong Park. Has it come to aid the villagers against the pirates? When Nami confronts Luffy and the others, they don’t want to believe her perfidy, despite Johnny’s eye-witness account of her murder of Usopp, especially the smitten Sanji. She tells them they need to go, this is none of their business and they aren’t wanted here, but Luffy decides he needs a nap and lies down in the middle of the road to take one.

As they wait to see what’s going down with the navy ship, Nojiki tells them Nami’s story, and why she’s doing what she is.

  

Commentary:

This volume of One Piece has a lot going on, filled with non-stop action as the pace of the plot definitely picks up. Not that it was slow before, but now it’s rushing headlong toward a denouement. I love the intricacies of the characters and how their plots wind about one another and intertwine. I did Eiichiro Oda does a marvelous job of twisting everything about, meshing it all together.

I also love how he doesn’t make Luffy the main character in everything, although he is the main character. He treats it more as an ensemble piece, and in this volume, we see a bit more of Usopp, and a whole lot more about Nami, finding out what makes her tick and what her motivations are.

We go back to when Nami and Nojiki were foster sisters being raised by a single mother, Belle Mere, and of what happened to them, and to the village, when the pirates descended on them years before. This goes a long way to understanding Nami, and I really enjoyed it, as I hadn’t thought much of her before on the basis of her previous actions, which have been sometimes despicable. But now everything makes perfect sense, and I have compassion for her.

As for Usopp, he may be a bit of a fool, but his heart is in the right place, even if sometimes he’s a coward, but he means well, and I like him pretty much. This is a series that can be enjoyed by people of all ages, even though it’s labeled teens. A good story is a good story, and this is definitely one of those. I enjoy the artwork, I think it fits well with the writing, and I’m enjoying this series. I heartily endorse it.

The Belgian Chocolate Remedy is almost here

I am proud, excited, and pleased to announce that my first story with Museit Up Publishing is releasing next Friday, December 14th, and is actually available for pre-order now. I have been an editor with Muse for over a year now, but this is my first stint as an author. But not the last. So I'd like to tell you a little bit about Belgian Chocolate, and show  you the guys who were the inspirations for my characters.

I love chocolate, who doesn't? Well, most people do. I admit I've met at least one person who didn't like it, but that is the exception, rather than the rule, I think. Hell, I love food, to be honest. I think my TV is on the Food Network more than any other channel there is, and I enjoy so many of their shows, including Chopped, Restaurant Impossible, Sweet Genius, Iron Chef America and more. So a story about a chocolatier was not farfetched for me.

Milan is my Belgian chocolatier. Let me show you what he looks like.  I apologize for the angel of this picture, but I cannot get it to rotate. And the original is not angled this way, so I'm not sure why this is doing this.

He and his brother Ludolf came to this country so that Milan could further his culinary education. A chance to teach chocolate at a school in the Midwest brings them to Lafayette, Indiana, where they buy a home and decide to settle down. But Fate has other ideas, and now Milan is alone with his broken dream.

Now meet Jesse. He's a young man from St. Louis who has no purpose for his life.  Dumped for no apparent reason by his boyfriend, he's become rudderless and unhappy. So when his best friend, Reggie, tells him to come visit her in her home of Lafayette, he obeys because he has nothing better going for him.

Blurb:  Milan, a Belgian chocolatier, haslost his beloved brother. Yet life goes on, and he must ready his booth for Outfest—Ludolf would have wanted him to carry on. Jesse is a rudderless soul, unable to cope with the rejection of his lover. He comes to Lafayette, Indiana at the request of his best friend, Reggie. She inveigles him into helping her friend Milan… a way to pass the time, or something more?

Excerpt:  Milan had gone back to his last batch of chocolate—unscathed and unburned—and removed it from the burner, where it was cooling. “Would you like to brush the molds with chocolate?” he asked.

“Sure, I guess.” Jesse shrugged. It didn’t seem that difficult, at least in theory. “What’s it for?”

“To coat them.” Milan pulled a pastry brush from a drawer. He already set the molds out; they were simply waiting to be used.  “I have some in the freezer already done,” he explained, seeing Jessie’s questioning look.  “This is not all I have.”

“Okay,” Jessie said, “just show me what you want me to do.”

“Here.” Milan carried the pot of chocolate to the center of the work table. “Set a trivet there, will you?”

“A what?”

“A trivet,” Milan repeated, nodding to the counter behind Jessie.  “That blue thing there. I will set the pot on it so it does not burn the surface.”

“Sure.” Jessie laid the round blue object onto the table, as Milan set the pot.  “Take the brush and dip it like this.” He demonstrated just how far into the chocolate he wanted him to go. “Then lightly brush over each mold, like so.”

Jesse admired the ease with which Milan worked, as if he’d been born to do nothing else. He had very nice hands, he noticed. How would those hands feel on Jesse’s cock? Would he touch it with the same care? His breath caught at the thought.

Milan offered the pastry brush to Jessie. He shook himself from his reverie and took it, pushing the forbidden image away. “So you’re selling these tomorrow. At Outfest. Right?”

“That is correct,” Milan replied. “You are coming, yes?”

“I am unless I want Reggie to tan my hide.”

Milan smiled.

“She would, you know,” Jesse continued, “You ever see her get mad?”

“Yes, I have,” Milan admitted, “I would not care to be the object of her anger.”

“Me either.”

“A little lighter, please.” Milan had been watching Jessie work. “Here.” He laid his hand over the other man’s. “Like this. Just enough to coat it. I will fill it in after we put in the fruit.”

Their eyes met and for a moment their hands stopped moving, each acutely aware of the other. Milan broke away first. “I will do this one,” he offered, “then we can do the first freeze.”

“First freeze?”

“Yes. We are forming a shell so it will hold the weight of the candy.”

“Okay.” Jesse thought it made sense, but what did he know. He dipped the brush into the chocolate again, making his strokes lighter, earning a “bon” from Milan. He knew enough French to know that meant good. He relaxed a little at the praise.

Once they had set the molds into the freezer, Milan removed the completed candies that waited there. He showed Jesse how to unmold them, and how to put them into their little paper beds, and into the waiting boxes. Then he let him apply the second coating himself.

“You are doing well,” he encouraged him.

“Thanks.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed, Jesse concentrating on the task at hand, Milan stealing surreptitious peeks at the brunet. Whether he was willing to admit it to himself, he was glad for his company. Jesse’s presence was pushing the shadows away.

“Milan?”

“Yes, Jesse?”

“This is your place, right?” Jessie encompassed the kitchen with his glance. He couldn’t help but feel a lot of love had gone into making this room the place it was. More than a kitchen, it was Milan’s haven.

“It is, yes. Mine.”

“When are you going to open, then? Reggie said you were going to open your candy store after Outfest, right?”

Milan paused in the act of retrieving a container of raisins from the refrigerator. It was a legitimate question. It’s what businesspeople did—they opened for business. So why was he so hesitant to set a date? Maybe because he didn’t see it ever happening, without Ludolf’s guidance.?

“I do not know,” he mumbled, setting the bowl on the table, not meeting Jesse’s eyes. “There is work that needs to be done, construction work and…and licenses…and I do not know what, I mean I just do not know…”

Jesse reached out his hand without thinking, but Milan had already turned away. Jesse’s heart ached for the other man—he sounded so alone, so lost. Jesse wanted to gather him up in his arms, comfort him, soothe him, stop his tears, and end his pain. And yes, he wanted to get naked with him, too—to touch him, feel him, and lose himself in Milan. He wanted to taste his lips and take away his misery.

His feet moved, as though his thoughts had manifested themselves into action. His fingers brushed across the top of the table as he edged around it, toward Milan. He had no clear purpose he simply needed to be closer to him.

Milan was a few inches taller than Jesse, he discovered, as he came up behind him. Jesse’s lips were at about the level of Milan’s jaw, and he found it hard not to simply kiss him there, to stop his shoulders from shaking, to stem the tears he suspected were falling. He reached up his arms, wanting to hug Milan to him tightly, to take the first step—

The tinkle of the shop bell. Jesse retreated, stumbling back to his side of the table. In his haste, his hand knocked a spoon off the table. It clattered onto the floor. Milan spun around, dabbing at one eye with his right hand.  He left a small smear of chocolate on his cheekbone. Jesse bent to retrieve the spoon, resisting the urge to wipe the chocolate away. The moment passed; he felt like a coward.

Thanks for letting me share Milan and Jesse with you. I hope you liked them. You can pre-order their story now and get a discount!

Thanks for stopping by!  Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Feature and Follow Friday

TGIF, right? Although I'm sorry to see this week end. I've been working at Data Entry and loving every minute of it. Next week I return to the drudgery and boredom that is Imaging. So I'm making the most of today!

Here's my Feature and Follow Friday. To learn more about it, go here and meet new people!

Q: Activity! Who do you want to be? If you could choose any character from a book. What do you think that character looks like and what do you have in common?

My Answer:  That is a very tough question. So many characters to choose from. One that comes to mind is Ana Steele from Fifty Shades. Why? Duh! Cause she gets Christian Grey, an uber-sexy billionaire. Or do I go the other way and opt for Sirius Black, my favorite HP character of all time?  He looks like Gary Oldman, and I guess my interest is less than honorable, so let's move on.

I just finished reading Paradise Lost, a very fascinating book, and I really enjoyed the character of Lucifer (a version of which appears in my book Revelations, which comes out in February). Let's go with him. I see Lucifer as being beautiful. He was an angel, after all. Long flowing platinum hair and beautiful blue eyes. What do we have in common? We speak up for what we believe in, even if it's not a popular cause or idea. And we're not afraid to take a stand.  Yes, I'll go with Lucifer for now. Tomorrow?  Who knows!  lol

Oh, I should post a picture, shouldn't I?  Okay, here goes.  Why yes, he looks a lot like Lucius Malfoy  :)

Wednesday Briefs: Stan and Ollie #9

Happy Wednesday one and all! It's time for more flash fiction! I apologize for not having posted as much as I'd like lately, but I'm working a new shift - from 5 am to 1:30 pm, and I have to say it's wearing me out. But I'm going to try to do better, I promise!

This week's prompts were:   "Love is a many splendored thing..." or use: chicken, cheee, fiesta or "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times..." or use any holiday or "And then he said...."  or "Well, excuuuuuuuuuse me, Princess!'

Stan and Ollie continues! Last week we saw an obnoxious reporter. Now what? And don't forget to see what my fellow Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

Stan and Ollie #9

By the time we leave the park, the white mouse has morphed into the ginger feline once more, a self-satisfied smirk resting upon her catty lips. I don’t give her any credit for the ploy that rid us of the annoying reporter. I’m sure it was Ollie’s idea, and he mentally telegraphed it to her to carry out. Whatever. It worked and she’s gone. At least for now.

Pedestrian traffic is definitely thinning out; one of the disadvantages of life in a small town. After dark, the people tend to go home and keep to themselves. There probably isn’t a whole lot to be learned tonight, but we’ll do what we can.

“We should probably get some food into you. I bet you’re hungry.” My Ollie has a high metabolism that requires frequent feeding. A secondary reason why I chose the diner as our hideaway from the world at large. I have to admit that when we first opened, I wasn’t the best chef out there. But now I think I can hold my own pretty well. And Ollie says he prefers my food to anyone else’s, which is all that counts with me.

Ollie turns grateful eyes my way, nodding. “I’d like some chicken, if we can find it. Maybe something with some cheese?”

For you, anything, my love.

Despite the fact that Ollie seems to be craving a fiesta, I have a feeling we probably won’t find a Mexican restaurant anywhere in this town, but maybe we can locate someplace that specializes in down home Southern cuisine, with perhaps a slight nod to our southern neighbor.

As if reading my mind, Ollie pulls me in the direction of an elderly gentleman who stands on the sidewalk a short distance ahead of us, silver head turned upward, admiring the night sky with a rapt gaze. “Excuse me, sir…”? The man turns, favoring Ollie and Xylina with his polite gaze, then looks at me, before replying.

‘Yes, sir? May I be of some assistance to you?” Of course he realizes we’re not native to these parts. Our status as strangers envelops us like a red neon light. Or an invisible caption that hangs between us that reads, ‘careful, they’re not from around here’.

“We’ve just arrived in Cortez, and we wondered if you might be able to direct us to the best place to get a good chicken dinner?”

“Why certainly, certainly.” He graciously grins. “Aunt Hettie’s Fixin’s, over on Charleston Avenue. I can personally vouch for the fact that they serve the best chicken you’ll find within a hundred miles.”

 He gives us detailed directions, although I’m fairly sure that you can find anyplace in this small burg with just a bit of walking. We thank the gentleman most graciously and continue on our way.

“Shouldn’t we stop by the hotel first?” I pointedly ask. Ollie knows what I mean; I intend to make a deposit. In other words, drop off the Fur Princess and make this an evening for two. She stiffens in Ollie’s arms—it’s bad enough he has his hands full of cat and I can’t take his hand in mine, and don’t even think that isn’t deliberate—the fur on her back standing straight up as she hisses at me in her native tongue. Thank goodness, I have no idea what that translates to, nor do I care to know.

Ollie looks between me and his pampered pet, his brow slightly furrowed, and a twinge of guilt assails me for putting him in a position where he must choose between her and me. But only a slight one, and I get over it, because I’m very selfish where he is concerned, and I don’t see that changing any time in the near future.

He strokes her luxurious fur. I watch in fascination as it swirls about his fingertips, curling about them while her defiant hiss becomes a contented purr. No one can handle that damn cat like he can, I’ll grant him that.

He lowers his head so that his lips are against her ear, and I hear the whispered cadence of his gentle voice, although the words are indistinguishable. Xylina’s tail rises and falls in a languid motion before curling up into a question mark, then relaxing once again.

“Thank you, Xy,” he murmurs, setting her on her feet.  She trots off without a backward glance, although I can easily decipher her parting shot at me as her tail takes on the shape of an arrow, aimed at a certain portion of her anatomy. Message received, loud and clear. And I still don’t care. I’ve gotten rid of her and that’s all that matters to me.

“Where’s her majesty off to?” I take advantage of her absence to claim his arm once more as we stroll leisurely in the direction of the restaurant.

“I asked her to do a little reconnaissance, see if she can find any sign of Consuelo.”

That makes sense. Finding her body would give us more of a starting point.

Aunt Hettie’s seems to be the most popular place in town. Judging by the population of Cortez, at least half of them seem to be crowded into this fine dining establishment. Still, with Ollie’s charm, and my persistence, we find ourselves seated at the bar, awaiting the next open table.  I order a beer for myself, a Shirley Temple for Ollie, ignoring the look my order receives. He can’t tolerate alcohol; it’s poison to his system.

The décor seems to be a blend of country chic and Confederate charm, Rebel flags mingling with wicker baskets and ruffled roosters. The South is rising again.

Suddenly, a hush falls over the diners, a silence so profound you can hear the sounds of sizzling from the kitchen.

“Bodean, your table’s ready.” At that moment he’s joined by a companion—a waif-like honey-blonde in a dress so short you can see all the way to Canada without trying.

 “Hello, Papa Bear,” she greets him.

to be continued

Now go visit my fellow Briefers and enjoy some more flash fiction!

Cia Nordwell     m/m Nephylim    m/m Michael Mandrake     m/m Tali  Spencer    m/m

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Winner of Michael's 70k Bash is.... and meet Reed and Taz!

Congratulations go to Debby! She's the winner in the recent bash to celebrate 70k with Michael Mandrake. Contact me and let me know what you'd like, Debby.  In the meantime, I'm going to repeat the blog posts regarding the WIP of M.A. Church and myself, in case you didn't get to see them - a little story that we've named Be My Alien. You'll meet our heroes, Reed and Taz. Have fun with them! And stay tuned - we might have an announcement to make any day now!

Thanks so much, Sharita, for having us here today! We love visiting with you, even if Chicago is chillier than we’re used to. Poor M.A., her blood is really thin from being down there in Mississippi. Me? I just have low tolerance for the cold. Oh wait, who are we, I can hear some of you ask? Let me back up a mo and start again.

I’m Julie Lynn Hayes, she’s M.A. Church, heretofore to be known as Michelle. Just call me Julie. We’re here today to talk about our first joint project. To be honest, it isn’t published. Not yet. But we’re excited about it, so we’d like to tell you about it. And since it hasn’t been accepted yet, we’d like to offer something else in our giveaways, namely a selection from our backlists.

Let’s start at the beginning. I totally blame Michelle for hooking me on aliens.

Michelle: *snort* I corrupted her, or so she says.

Julie:  *laughs* That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. It wasn’t until I read your most excellent book, Nighttime Wishes, that I first encountered your fixation on beings from other worlds, and… wait, hold on a second. What are you two doing here?

Reed: Don’t blame me, I was just following Taz. He said we needed to come here, and I guess he’s right. Look, you’re talking about us. That’s a bit cheeky, don’t you think?

Julie: What? Cheeky? Hey, Reed, I was going to say nice things, how does that make us cheeky? Michelle, a little help here?

Michelle: Oh no, don’t drag me into this. Besides, I think you’re doing just fine on your own, Julie.

Julie: Gee, thanks. *sneaks a peek at these two lovely men* Wow, what gorgeous guys we’ve created, I have to admit.

Taz: Reed, I appreciate these two humans and their efforts to talk about us, but I feel that we can handle this ourselves, don’t you?

Reed: Indeed I do. So why don’t you two ladies find something else to do? Maybe go to a strip club or something?

Julie: *look at Michelle, and she shrugs *

Michelle: Well, if they screw this up, it’s on them. I say we go look at pretty men. You’re driving, though.

Julie: *walks out door mumbling under her breath* Don’t I always?

Michelle: *pokes Julie in the back* But you like driving. Am I going to have to listen to this all the way to Atlanta next year???

Purses are grabbed and a door slams shuts.

Reed:  *whispers* Good Lord, are they gone?

Taz: *looks around the corner* Yes, thank the stars. I swear, those two… So… *Taz rubs his hands together, a gleam in his eye* Looks like we got free rein now. You ready to start?”

Reed: Yes, more than ready. They’ve gone about things the wrong way. Did you even hear mention of the title?

Taz: No, not a word.

Reed: *shakes his head* Women!

Taz: *cocks his head and regards Reed* My mother is a woman, Reed.

Reed: *snorts* I know, I met her, remember? So’s mine, by the way, and thanks for asking…

Taz: But I didn’t ask?

Reed: *sighs* It’s just an expression. *mumbles under his breath* Damn, need to get that book. Bad. Hey, babe, where do you think we should start?

Taz: How about like this? *he climbs onto Reed’s lap and lays his head on Reed’s shoulder, purring*

Reed: Oh damn, seriously? *takes a deep breath* I thought we’re here to talk? You know, about us?

Taz: *purrs louder* Go ahead and talk. I can hear you. *begins to rock in Reed’s lap*

Reed: Oh jeez louise, that’s distracting… *clears throat* Um, okay… we met… we met… oh yeah, it was almost Valentine’s Day. I was working late ‘cause I didn’t have anything better to do. You know how it is when you’re single and it’s been a while… that day means less than nothing.

Taz: It didn’t mean anything to me either.

Reed: Well, to be fair, you never heard of it ‘til you got here.

Taz: Oh yeah, I guess that’s true.  *squirms a bit on Reed’s lap* I’m just lucky I was in the right place at the right time.

Reed: I think I’m the lucky one, babe. That’s what they call karma.

Taz: Karma? What has this to do with driving?

Reed: *groans* Later, I’ll explain later. So anyway, I had to meet a customer at the Empire State Building after work, and that’s where I met Taz. He knocked me off my feet, literally.

Taz: What can I say, you caught my attention? My night hadn’t been going very well. I had just been dumped, then I saw you. I really didn’t mean to knock you down, you know.

Reed: Oh, I wasn’t complaining. I ended up on the floor with an arm full of sexy male. *blush* Well, at the time I thought I had an arm full of sexy male. Little did I know just what I was holding.

Taz: *giggle* You should’ve seen the look on your face the first time my stripes showed up! I mean, you freaked out, but still, for a second there… I don’t have the words!

Reed: *shakes head* It was probably the same kind of shocked look I had when that tail of yours put in an appearance.

Taz: *rubs cheek against Reed’s jaw* That reminds me, when are you going to let me—

Reed: Whoa now. Let’s not go there, babe. You give that away, Julie and Michelle will both want to skin you. It’ll be a race to see which one of them gets you.

Taz: Silly women. Neither one of them gets me. I’m all yours… *licks his way up Reed’s neck*

Reed: All mine, you’re right. Um, um…. Oh yeah, the title. Be My Alien. Pretty cute, don’t you think?

Taz: Mmhmmm, you’re very cute.

Reed: Not me, the title *blushes*

Taz: Oh, that’s not bad. Those two earth women seem to be able to put words together rather nicely, don’t they?

Reed: Better than me at times. Oh babe, you gotta quit that, or I might…

Taz: I’m wearing those special—

Reed: Oh lord, from the shop? *groans* Oh yes, my shop. I have my own business, I should mention that. A Touch of Class. Here in New York. I mean there… I mean… Taz, please be careful, you’re right over my—

Taz: I know, Reed…  I know… *silences him with a kiss*

End of part one, to be continued…

Hey y’all, and welcome back for part 2 of Taz and Reed’s interview. My name is M.A. Church, but call me Michelle. Julie Lynn Hayes and I are writing a series of books that start with our novella Be My Alien. We’ve subbed the book and are just waiting to hear something. *fingers crossed* We plan for the rest of the series to be novel length.

So, when we left last time, Taz and Reed were… what? *looks at Sharita* Oh my God, they did what? Are you kidding me? Oh man, Sharita, I’m sorry! I knew Julie and I shouldn’t have… huh?

Julie: Damn, we missed it. I bet nothing we saw was as hot as them two.

Michelle: *grins at both Sharita and Julie* So you got to see the stripes, Sharita? *snort* Yeah, I know.  Hehehe. Love me some sexy aliens. And oh, look who finally decided to show up. Hey boys, come on in. We were just talking about y’all.

Reed: *looks at Taz* Michelle has that look in her eye.

Taz: So does Julie. *whispers* Do you think they know?

Reed: *shrug* So what if they do?

Taz: You’re right, let them know. I think they know everything about us as it is, don’t they?

Reed: They know stuff about us you wouldn’t believe… *shakes his head*

Taz: *coughs discreetly* Maybe they should go to another strip show? Take her with them? *points at Sharita*

Michelle: *glances at both Sharita and Julie* I think we can take a hint, can’t we, ladies? C’mon. Oh wait. *turns back* First round’s on you. *holds out her hand*

Taz: *turns to Reed* I don’t see anything on you?

Reed: *grumbles as he reaches for his wallet* Later, babe. *hands them a few bills* Stuff some g-strings for us, willya?

Julie: You got it, tiger.

Taz: Wait, he’s not—

Reed: Let it go, babe, just let it go. Wave bye-bye to the nice ladies.

Taz: *waves even as he climbs back onto Reed’s lap* Now where were we?

Reed: Talking to the readers. That’s where we were. Remember?

Taz: Oh yes. We told them how we met. Did we tell them about ourselves though?

Reed: What do you mean?

Taz: Well, I’m from the planet Trygos, the most important planet in the Trygos galaxy, and only one of two planets capable of sustaining life. The other planet is Haatmiess. When Trygosheans put someone down, they say they’re like a Haatmiess, which is considered a major insult. My full name is Fabrintazo, Taz for short. I’m about 5'11" in your earth measuresments, and I have a wiry, muscular build. My hair is a mixture of red and orange and brown and it’s long and luxurious, and reaches below my shoulders.

Reed: That’s very true. He often twists it into a braid and lets it flow loose over his back. He’s very acrobatic and he loves heights. Which scared the hell out of me at one point in the book. Taz has cat green eyes and purrs when he's pleased. *smiles* I make him purr often.

Taz: Yes, you do. Reed’s full name is Reed Hatcher and he’s about my height and build. He has very light brown hair that tends to bleach out in the warmer months and he has the most beautiful hazel eyes. Oh! And he has this cute little dimple in his cheek too. The one on his face, not the other one. Though that’s cute too.

Reed: *blushes* Babe, too much information.

Taz: *grins* And  he’s a business owner, too. A very important man in his world.  *nods head* And in his business, he has a back room that sells very special things. I like the back room.

Reed: I actually have a degree in elementary education, but I never taught. My parents moved to Florida and I ended up here in New York.

Taz: Thank the stars you did! *frowns* Should we tell them about Vorlod?

Reed: What’s to tell? The bastard’s no longer here on Earth and can’t bother you anymore.

Taz: Well, he was the reason I was here on Earth to begin with.

Reed: We should save that story, though, don’t  you think? Can’t spill all the beans, now can we?

Taz: *glances around the floor* I don’t think we spilled anything.

Reed: *rolls his eyes* You’re right, we didn’t. What was I thinking?

Taz: *eyes him suspiciously* Are you having fun with me?

Reed: Not yet, babe, but I intend to, I promise you. Should we leave or wait for the ladies to get back.

Taz: That depends. Are we going to make love?

Reed: You betcha.

Taz: *grins even broader, stripes appearing on his neck* Then let’s go now and, how did you put it, avoid the rush hour?

Reed: *tries not to laugh* Close enough. *fastens their lips together, he rises, Taz clinging to him, and they make their way from the room. Moments later, the ladies return*

Michelle: Oh shoot, they’re gone.

Sharita: Where do you think they went?

Julie: *laughs* I can guess, I buet you can too, eh, Michelle?

Michelle: *laughs too* Three guesses, and the first two don’t count. I swear, keeping those two suppiied in lube…

Julie: Is a full time job.

Michelle: Oh well, I guess we’re done here now, right? *waves* Bye, everyone!

Wednesday Briefs: Stan and Ollie #8

Happy Wednesday to one and all and welcome to another edition of Wednesday Briefs, your place for flash fiction! This week, the prompt was: "The last time I saw ..., he/she was..." or the alternate prompts were: use: castle, wishes, sun or "When did you become such a ...?" or use: foreign, emissary, truce or "Pardon me, but do you have any...?" or use: magic, apology a body of water

Last week, we saw Egbert and the single forlorn tulip, and we also saw an old acquaintance of Stan and Ollie show up. Today we learn more about her. Don't forget to check out all the Wednesday Briefers, whose links follow my tale!  Enjoy!

Stan and Ollie #8

 “It’s a free country,” I snark, putting as much venom in my voice as possible, although I know nothing gets to that ubiquitous trashmonger. “At least the last time I checked, it was.”

“Oh absolutely!” she enthuses. “God bless America, I just love this country, don’t you? And I love my job! So, what are you two up to? And can I put it on the record?” She pulls out a voice recorder, although I wonder if she doesn’t have a microphone hidden in her upswept dark brown bouffant hairdo.

Just so you know, her name’s Lori Hatcher, and she’s an offensively foul reporter for a most offensively foul rag with pretensions to journalistic integrity—Behind Closed Doors. You’ve probably seen it near the supermarket checkout stands, vying for consumer dollars along with a number of other tabloids. She seems to show up whenever Ollie and I are on a case. Of course she has no idea who we are and what we do and we’re not about to tell her. Let her draw her own conclusions.

“Are you here for a story or for a vacation, Miss Hatcher?” Ollie intervenes. My little diplomat. Although don’t let the mild façade fool you. That man can more than take care of himself. He knows moves that would make a martial arts expert jealous.

“The word vacation isn’t in my vocabulary,” she quips. “I have a duty to my readers, you know.”

“I can appreciate that. Well, I wish you well with your story.” He slides his arm around me, and we turn to go. Can it really be that easy?

Of course not.

“What do you know about Consuelo Fairchild?”

My turn to respond. Ollie is loath to tell a falsehood, while I’m more than happy to lie to this woman’s face. It’s not any of her business, so I feel no compunction toward doing so. “Never heard the name. Friend of yours?”

“I wish.” She snorts, inelegantly. “Maybe you’ve heard of her old man? Bodean Fairchild? Bo’s Blossoms? The Tulip King?”

I shrug, rolling my eyes. “I’m not much of one for flowers. So you’re writing the society page now, are you? Or is this for the science section? Oh my bad, I don’t think your paper has a science section, just science fiction and myths.”

“Very funny, and neither. What, do you live under a rock?”

Close enough, and more than she needs to know.

“She’s disappeared. From right here in Cortez, Mississippi.”

“I thought you said we were in Nowhere, Mississippi?” I remind her. “Are you lost? Your magic spells not working these days?” That’s a reference to our last encounter, when I referred to her as a witch. She grins at me, obviously remembering the occasion and insult. I make no apology for my words and she expects none.

“You can’t pull the wool over my eyes, so don’t even try it.” She turns to Ollie, batting her false eyelashes so fast you’d think she was trying to fan him. Even if he was straight, the effect wouldn’t be sexy. As it is, it’s purely wasted effort. I don’t even have to pretend not to be jealous, because it’s just too pathetic for words. “I’m sure your nicer half will tell me what I want to know, even if you won’t.”

“Of course I’ll tell you,” Ollie smoothly asserts, and I can see her fairly salivate with excitement, until he adds, “We are in Cortez, Mississippi, not Nowhere. Glad to be of help.” He takes my arm and we get as far as the top of the bridge before she catches up with us once more.

“I’m disappointed. When did you become such a puppet? Where are your strings?” She pretends to search above Ollie’s head for non-existent guidewires. I shake my head at her lame attempt at humor. “Consuelo Fairchild disappeared on her wedding day. It’s been all over the front page ever since it happened.“

“Guess we missed it.” I shrug.

“So you’re telling me your being here where she was last seen is a coincidence?” She gives me a skeptical glance. “C’mon, be gentlemen and spill the beans.”

“It’s been a long time since anyone’s ever accused me of being a gentleman.” It’s my turn to snort now. “You’re out of luck, sweetheart. We don’t know anything and we don’t want to know anything. We’re just here to sample the pecan pie. Hear they make a mighty mean one, and we just got a hankering for it. Maybe you should get some too. Sweeten your disposition.”

I know I’ve hit a nerve, both with my faux endearment and my suggestion. Her face turns red, despite her best efforts to stay calm. Taking a deep breath, she stands at the railing of the bridge, glancing down, obviously avoiding my glance. Then she stiffens, and leans over, pointing excitedly.

“Look, there! Another of those tulips.”

“What tulips?” I pretend not to understand.

“Every day since Consuelo disappeared, a single tulip has appeared in this pond. Like it’s a message or something. Maybe from her kidnappers.”

“I’m impressed,” Ollie says softly. “You seem to have an angle for your story already, Miss Hatcher. Congratulations.”

Her momentary surliness has been replaced by a know-it-all smirk, as she turns to face us once more. “Well, it is why I’m one of the top journalists in my field,” she brags. “You don’t get there by pure luck…”

Delusional, much?

“In fact, I was telling my editor just the other day—” What she was going to say, we’ll never know as she takes one look at her foot, uttering, “What the—” Then she shrieks. I glance downward, catching a glimpse of a small white member of the rodent family sitting atop her toes. She hastily whirls and sprints down the bridge, away from us, her story obviously forgotten.

“C’mon, let’s go.” I nod to Ollie, who reaches down, scoops up the mouse—aka Xylina—and off we go.

to be continued

Now see what the rest of the Briefers are up to!

Victoria Adams      m/f Lily Sawyer      m/m  Tali Spencer    m/m MC Houle      m/m Cia Nordwell    m/m Nephylim     m/m Elizabeth Morgan    m/f