Let's Face It: Most Of Us Don't

Call Me Crazy, But There's Just Something Cheering About Seeing Huge Raptors Tear Into Eraser Flesh.

When Did They Start Coming After You?” “was It—was It After The Oil- Slick Hummer Crash?” The Gasman Asked Iggy Tentatively. My Eyes Widened. Oil-slick Hummer Crash? Iggy Rubbed His Chin, Thinking. “or Maybe It Was More---after The Bomb,” The Gasman Said In A Low Voice, Looking Down. “i Think It Was The Bomb,” Iggy Agreed. “that Definitely Seemed To Tick Them Off.” “bomb?” I Asked Incredulously.

Fang’s Hand Gently Smoothed My Hair Off My Neck. My Breath Froze In My Chest, And Every Sense Seemed Hyperalert. His Hand Stroked My Hair Again, So Softly, And Then Trailed Across My Neck And Shoulder And Down My Back, Making Me Shiver. I Looked Up. “what The Heck Are You Doing?” “helping You Change Your Mind,” He Whispered, And Then He Leaned Over, Tilted My Chin Up, And Kissed Me.

I Hung My Head, And I Felt Someone, Fang, Gather Me Gently To Him. My Cheek Rested On His Shoulder, And My Silent Tears Soaked His Torn Shirt.he Felt Warm And Strong And Heartbreakingly Familiar. And At That Moment, Not A Single Thing In My Life Was Certain, Strong, Or Whole. Nothing. Least Of All Fang.

If I'm Writing And A Chapter Isn't Coming, I Just Move Ahead.