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Red Over Black Lexi Crane has just suffered through the loss of her soulmate.  Her world shattered, she finds herself at the center of a plot to keep her a prisoner inside her own mind.  What the schemers and assassins don't know is that Lexi's formidable madness has plans of its own.

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Race to the Sun Lexi Crane starts a bit of a war with her self-styled arch-nemesis Danny Packard, becomes a member of an automotive secret society called the Road Associates and finds herself tumbling into a grudging friendship with Dobie Cassarell. But Dobie has a secret--the mystery of Ren's last birthday present to her. Thrust suddenly into a world of Rich Bastards she can't resist the urge to bait and offend, Lexi finds herself sailing the seas of bittersweet memory yet again. Nothing could mean more to her than whatever's in Ren's briefcase--but will Dobie, Danny and the Ile du Soleil government let her keep it?

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Sixteen Ways to Hock a Cat A missing dinner date, a psychotic geriatric bounty hunter, a mysterious antique book that everybody wants, a tinfoil hat-wearing DJ with a roll-top desk full of Ecstasy and an Alfa Romeo GTV.  Lexi Crane knows how to have a good time in New York City.

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12 Steps and a Razor Liz Bahti wakes up half-dead from her latest alcoholic binge and declares it will be her last. She discovers that it's not as easy as moving two thousand miles, shaving her head and rebuilding old friendships. Stalked by demons both human and mental, she learns that there's just one crucial question she needs to answer: does she think she's worth saving?

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Comfort Zone In which Dori Thomasson learns that her grandfather was a war hero, and tries to reconcile the loyalty and bravery in her genes with her own sedentary and emotionally solitary life. It's not just that she wonders how it's possible, but she finds herself wishing she could inspire the kind of fraternal loyalty and friendship that Pete Thomasson did so long ago. But how can a waitress at a pizza parlor manage that, especially when she keeps getting hit in the head?

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Borrowed Time Nikki Saxen would be really happy to go a week without having to return from the dead again. A kidnapped runaway trained as a killer, Nikki discovers that she might have a spark of humanity left in her after all when she befriends her latest target. The arrival of her mentor and master throws gasoline on that spark, and sets up a showdown between Nikki...and anyone who gets in her way.

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    Car addict. Fiction writer. Modern-day Bedouin. Steampunk. Goffkid. Contagious.
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14: Secondhand Smoke
Comfort Zone
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"Where did you say the restaurant was, again?" Smile asked.  They were lost somewhere in Ann Arbor.  He was at the wheel of Dori's Neon, and Khalid and Sheerin were silent in the back seat.

"I didn't say," Dori said.  "It's in downtown Ann Arbor on Liberty, but I don't know where we are now."

"It's impossible to find your way around this town," he muttered.  "Is it even any good?"

"Does it matter?  Do you know of another vegetarian place?  You should've listened to the directions I gave you."

Smile glowered.  "So give me directions now."

"I can't do that unless you want to start over from home.  I have no idea where we are now."  Picking up Khalid had turned into a complete clusterfuck, of course.  He and Sheerin wanted to go out to eat, but it had to be a vegetarian restaurant, and Smile had no idea where one was.  Dori did, having flirted with vegetarianism on and off in the past, but directions weren't her strong suit.  Smile hadn't paid attention to the directions she gave, and now they'd been driving around in circles for half an hour. Add a comment

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Writing Challenge #3: "Baby!"
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Based on the sentence below, write a story of anywhere between 500-5000 words. As before, genre, etc. are wide open. This time I'll choose the five best stories to post--though I reserve the right to add to that number for thoroughly awesome entries--and I will link to whatever blogs, etc. the author would like me to as well. Stories remain the property of the contributor. (These challenges are becoming more and more popular, so in the event that I ever decide to publish a collection of said stories, I will contact contributors for permission and discuss compensation at that time.) Using the sentence in the story itself is a plus, but not necessary. Meaningless bonus points are added if it's the first sentence:

It was several seconds before Thomas realized that the baby in the sky was headed straight for him.

Submissions should be emailed to me via emmy (izzat) elepent.com. Format doesn't matter; I can accept email enclosures or attached Word documents. The deadline for entries is March 1, 2010.

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The Cutest Assailant: The Heart Worm Gambit, by Nate Balding
Challenges
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Melissa looked from the gaping wound in her chest to the still-beating heart in her hand, and said, "Fuck."

A small creature wormed through the muscle, teeth chittering as it spun its arrow shaped body through flesh and sinew, bisected tongue flitting against still pulsating strands of broken vein and artery.  Dark stains wafted from its end, latching onto the organ and slowly eating it away, a full dissolution that pushed through the walls of the atrium and ventricles, prompting Melissa to drop it before it could reach the skin on her palm, shrieking.  The heart worm looked up and smiled, coiling and leaping, popping free as corrosion smeared around it.  Melissa caught it between thumb and forefinger, then crushed its tiny head.

“These fucking things,” she muttered, dropping the lifeless chitin module to the ground and grinding it with a heel.  “Just one more time, Jack.  Just one more time and I will spell stuff your ass into another dimension.  And not one full of Fairy Queens and topless Banana Women, either.  Someplace really lame.”  Melissa coughed a stream of blood as she chastised her Terrier, which had three times that week attacked her through arcane reality folding techniques with the intention of murdering her, despite the fact that she'd saved the creature from a lifetime of malodorous cage living and a head full of electrodes that day she visited the Dumb Friends League in Juneau, Alaska.  It irked her to live with such a villain, but how could she kill him?  She didn't have many friends and his face was so damned sweet.

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Author's note, 12-31-09: More e-books!
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It only took two months longer than intended but Liz' novel is now up for sale in e-format!  And hey, at least we finished it before 2010, right?  Um...right.

Once again, it's got a lovely new cover designed by Lex Machina Photography, aaaand...this time that's not all there is to offer, because unlike Red over Black, the whole book is NOT available for free here.  So, if you read the first half of Scent of Cinnamon and want to know how it ends, the whole story is available on Smashwords.  Its title has changed (on account of there being another book called "Scent of Cinnamon") to 12 Steps and A Razor.  Please check it out and tell anyone who might be interested!

Also, there are just ten days till the current writing challenge closes.  Want to send in a story?  The best ones will be run on this site, and I'll link to your writing site as well.

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san zyu
12 Steps and a Razor
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"So what's she like?" Drusilla asked Andrew, who had been arguing with Dennis about Liz meeting them at The Barn.  They had arrived early, knowing she'd be by after aikido class.

Andrew and Dennis looked at each other, waiting to see who'd answer first. 

"This is the chick you were going to go see yesterday, right?" Drusilla prompted, looking from one man to the other.  Her big smiling eyes seemed to consume her face as she waited for the answer.

Andrew nodded.  "She's a good person.  She's strong and confident and..." he thought about it, looking over the dance floor.  The club was almost empty, the music not at full volume so it was easy to talk.  Peach and Dennis' fiancee Tania were playing billiards.  "She always wants to take care of everybody."

"When she ought to be taking better care of herself, usually," Dennis added.

"She'll be fine," Andrew said with a touch of exasperation. Add a comment

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1988 Ford Country Squire
Race to the Sun
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"Call me crazy, but I think they just might do it," Dobie said to Lars.

With no pencils available to sharpen, Lars had taken to plucking threads out of discarded shop rags.  He'd completely unraveled one.  "I've never seen anything so irresponsible."

"And yet, it feels good to be part of it, doesn't it?"

Lars just looked at him.

"Well, I for one am enjoying the show."  The battered, derelict sports cars posed in various states of disassembly, lit by the harsh work lights strung about the cave.  Joseph had turned all of the engines, and all six had been rolled to ensure that no axles had rusted solid.  Most of their tires were holding air, though that was unlikely to last for long once they hit the road.  The Hornet, Porsche and Allard had even spun their starters when given fresh batteries.  The three recalcitrant Italian cars were all undergoing wiring transplants from the Discovery.  Glen had expressed amusement that the new truck's instrument panel and engine control harness contained more wiring than the Alfa, Ferrari and Stratos put together. Add a comment

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Sixteen Ways to Hock a Cat: One
16 Ways to Hock a Cat
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What do you want?  If you’re expecting the witty and loopy and highly entertaining me that you’ve been told to expect, you’re going to be very disappointed.  You’ve caught me at a strange and uncomfortable moment, and I’m not feeling particularly witty or loopy or special right now.  I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.

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