World Building with Thorny

Hi,guys!

I’m at Thorny, Not Prickly today talking about World Building: Paint Me a Picture. Thorny’s a sweetheart, a new writer we can expect great stories from, and beta’d a bit of the zombies for me. If you don’t follow his blog, you’re nuts. ๐Ÿ˜‰ Stop by and let me know what you think about the distinction between story world & setting!

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Why I am a member of RWA — RWA steps up!

The hot sheet for the Romance Writers of America March board meeting reads (in part) as follows:

4. The Board approved adding anti-discrimination language to the Policies and Procedures Manual as follows: Membership shall not be denied to adults because of race, color, gender, age, religion, national origin, marital status, sexual preference, disability, or political affiliation.

5. The Board urges our chapters to make every effort to ensure that their contests and other services are inclusive. While RWA chapters are affiliated as individual corporations, and RWA Staff and Board are not involved in overseeing chapter contests and other programs, both Staff and Board are available to support and advise chapters on best practices.

(Bold emphasis mine)

I am positively giddy and so proud to be a member of RWA I could burst. This is a significant step in the right direction. The Board responded — quickly too! The positive statement and action by RWA is a huge step forward for LGBTQ romance and I am grateful beyond measure to RWA and the Board.

All of you LGBTQ romance writers who wondered and questioned why any LGBTQ rom writer would belong to RWA…what are you waiting for? Here is your engraved invitation. Our voices are heard in RWA regardless of what color we are, where we are from, what faith we practice and who we fall in love with. I urge all LGBTQ romance writers to join RWA, The professional writing organization to belong to in the romance sphere and hey, while you’re at it, why not give the LGBTQ chapter of RWA, Rainbow Romance Writers, a spin? Exciting things are happening inside RWA, RRW and LGBTQ romance. Be a part of it!

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Book Tour Winners & I Haz Woot-Worthy News!

Congrats to the following winners of $10 Amazon gift cards during Foreshock‘s book tour:

3/12 โ€” Joyfully Jay โ€” Jibriel
3/13 โ€” Dawnโ€™s Reading Nook— Islaen
3/14 โ€” Chicks & Dicks โ€” Judi/Loveless3173
3/15 โ€” Long & Short Reviewsย  — Renee/PaParanormalFan
3/16 โ€” All I Want and More โ€”

You’ll notice that the winner for my last tour spot, for comments at All I Want And More, isn’t listed. That’s because no one’s been picked yet — there’s still time to enter! The winner will be drawn on Monday so stop by, tell me what you would do for The One, and be entered into a drawing for the last $10 Amazon gift card. ๐Ÿ™‚

Foreshock has also hit the Amazon Kindle Gay & Lesbian Top 100 and has received it’s first review, recommended by Jessewave:

I couldnโ€™t help falling for Kyle in this very short story and sympathized with his desire to prove his masculinity in the only way he knew how…

If you’ve picked up a copy of Foreshock, thank you for helping with the donation to the Trevor Project and I hope you had as much fun with Eric and Kyle as I did writing their story.

WOOT!

ย 

I, Omega and Collared have both been nominated for Best of 2011 books at The Romance Reviews! IO has been nominated for Best GLBT Paranormal and Collared has been nominated for Best GLBT Romantic Science Fiction/Futuristic, both of which is really effin cool. If you’ve a mind to vote, click on the 2011 Nominee image above. Haven’t picked up your copy of I, Omega or Collared yet? Oh, dudes, you’re in luck! Click on the titles to be taken to each book’s page on ARe where for St. Patrick’s Day, one day only, all titles are available with a 50% ARe ebook buck rebate for eligible books purchased via cc or Paypal.

Finally, In the Red has also been reviewed at TRR:

Ms. Gregg writes the best messed up characters that I love and want so desperately to save.

Heh. But also WOO HOO! ๐Ÿ˜€

So…Congrats to all my book tour winners! Go to the last stop on the book tour (linked above) to comment for a shot at the last $10 Amazon gift card by Monday. If you feel like it, vote for I, Omega and Collared at TRR and while you’re there, hang around TRR’s website for massive fun and great prizes during TRR’s anniversary party (click image below!)…

…and then dash to ARe to save pots of money on TRR’s Best of 2011 nominees and other great titles today (March 17th) only.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, compadres!

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Winners — YAY!

A quick WOOT goes to Melanie, who won the random drawing for the free copy of Foreshock, and also to Ella for winning a $10 Amazon gift card as the prize for my random newsletter subscriber drawing.

๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€ WAHOO!!! ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€

Want your shot at a $10 Amazon gift card too? Well, stop by my blog tour, dudes. I’m giving away a $10 Amazon gift card every day:

3/12 — Joyfully Jay — http://joyfullyjay.blogspot.com/
3/13 — Dawn’s Reading Nook — http://dawnsreadingnook.blogspot.com/
3/14 — Chicks & Dicks — http://chicksndicks.blogspot.com/
3/15 — Long & Short Reviews — http://www.longandshortreviews.com/LASR/index.htm
3/16 — All I Want and More — http://alliwantandmore.blogspot.com/

Stop by to hear about the Trevor Project, Foreshock — and leave a comment for your chance to win!

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Foreshock Giveaway!

Sometimes the earth really does move.

Heya, dudes! Just a few more days and the wicked awesomeness that is Kyle & Eric will be available when Foreshock rolls out at Riptide on the 12th. Just a head’s up that I’ll be blog-touring it up starting on Monday the 12th, clear through the 16th, and giving away a $10 Amazon gift card at each and every stop on the tour. That’s FIVE gift cards that’ll be up for grabs, compadres. $50. Fifty bucks sounds pretty effin good to me, LOL. If you want your shot to grab for the goodies, I’ll be at:

3/12 — Joyfully Jay — http://joyfullyjay.blogspot.com/
3/13 — Dawn’s Reading Nook — http://dawnsreadingnook.blogspot.com/
3/14 — Chicks & Dicks — http://chicksndicks.blogspot.com/
3/15 — Long & Short Reviews — http://www.longandshortreviews.com/LASR/index.htm
3/16 — All I Want and More — http://alliwantandmore.blogspot.com/

So stop by next week and see if you win!

Actually…If you haven’t signed up for my newsletter? You might want to do that. Soon. A new release means a newsletter and a newsletter means a random prize drawing among subscribers. So if you want a chance at a Freebie of Awesomeness sign up now.

But the fun hasn’t ended yet. How’d you like a freebie of Foreshock? I’m hungry so comment below with your favorite snack of choice. No diets allowed. Be decadent. Be mean. But comment by 10:00 a.m. EST Sunday, March 11th, the day before Foreshock releases. I’ll choose someone at random to win the free copy of Foreshock then. YAY!

What’s your fave snack? I am ready. Do your worst. Nom nom nom.

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A Valentine’s Treat — Sneak Peek at Plunder

Happy Valentine’s, everybody! A couple of treats for ya…

First off, Riptide slashed prices site-wide by 25% for one day only! Which means you can pre-order Foreshock for 74 cents (dood) and get Collared for $3.74. Awesome. While the sale’s still rolling, you should check out Anne Tenino’s Frat Boy & Toppy while it’s on sale too, by the way. Sounds like hella fun, no?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand…

A second Valentine’s MWAH from yours truly — How about a look at the Spoils of War sequel, Plunder? Bear in mind that this is wholly unedited. Here, Micah has settled on a small country estate among the Alekites, where his tutor (Master Rigel) tries to separate him from Eli once the two greet Micah’s father and king.

Unwise. Most unwise.

* * *

I shook my head, fingers clenching and unclenching at my sides when the king’s soldiers marched to my beautiful Eli. While the buzzing in my ears built to crescendo, they yanked me from his embrace and pulled at Eli’s arms, pinioning them at the base of his spine —

No.

No!

I leapt toward him, heart shrieking in my chest. They couldn’t take my Eli. They couldn’t — He was mine! But I was small. Weak. They could do what they wanted, whatever the daemon who was my father commanded them. They gently, though firmly, shoved me aside. Away from them. Away from my master. My beloved. My…world.

I could not lose him. Dead was better.

Anything was better than losing my Eli.

So I stooped to a crouch and launched myself at the men surrounding my master. I swung my body high on the nearest soldier’s back. I squeezed my thighs to hold me fast, snaking my arms around his thick neck —

The guard wrapped an enormous paw over my shoulder and flung me across the reception hall.

My head spun dizzily as I sailed through the air. I reached out, blindly groping for something — anything — to hang onto…And lost my breath in a whoosh when my hip smacked into the floor. My head cracked against cold marble.

My vision darkened.

Pain screamed out.

Or was the screaming me?

“Don’t hurt him! Micah…My lord, please, tell them not to hurt — ”

Stunned, senseless, my body skidded across the wide reception room. I grunted in pain as my side slammed into a tall column, bringing me to a jolting stop.

“You see how vicious he is,” Master Rigel said.

I scrabbled to my hands and knees. The sneering satisfaction in the cursed tutor’s voice sliced like a whip through my muzzy head. I swung my gaze in the direction of that smug voice, though my vision had blurred and I could see naught but vague splashes of color that were the king’s soldiers. I struggled to focus anyway, to pinpoint the whoreson who was first my tormentor and now the accuser whose lying tongue slandered me. Fury at his deceit swamped me. My bleary eyes found the deep dark blue that was Master Rigel’s robes in the teeming mass of men and monarchs.

Rigel would rob my Eli from me.

And to my mind, his treachery made his life forfeit.

Hate flooded me, devastated and consumed me. My lust for Rigel’s end obliterated everything else. My senses expanded. No, they exploded. That the blow to my head had knocked my vision awry didn’t matter, for I did not need to see anymore. Tingly strength danced at my fingertips, vibrated my chest, stirred the hairs on my spindly arms. My blood drummed in my ears, drowning out my ragged pants. The screeching fear in my heart and the aches of my body crumpled at the sly cunning that overshadowed me.

I stared, feeling rather than seeing Master Rigel in the throng of men, the duplicitous and hurtful men who would take my Eli from me, and in an instant, no longer than a stuttered heartbeat, the hate inside me judged and condemned them all. The elegantly appointed receiving room crackled with sudden menace. Because this hurt, among all others, could not be born.

None would take my master from me and live.

“Micah, no!”

Not even my master’s cry could divert the murderous, reckless loathing within me. It focused like a fireball, invading my breath and every muscle. It burned. Gods, how my hatred burned, but I could not fight the surge. Like a brilliant starburst, it consumed everything inside me, using me up, depleting all that I was. My foggy vision faded to black. My boneless arms shook, the pain more than I could stand. I turned my head to helplessly wretch, but emptying my stomach did not rid me of my venom. Instead, the seductive, ruinous rage inside me snapped, ripping free of my body —

The ground beneath me lurched.

I jerked forward. The arms and legs bracing me collapsed, smashing my chin into the marble floor. The coppery salt of blood filled my mouth as the gathered soldiers gave a unified shout of surprise followed by the jumbling cacophony of them knocking against one another and dropping to the ground as well. They fell, as I had, with each of the blows Master Rigel had delivered, with the careless shove that had flung me across the room.

The marble under my planted face split in a single, delicate thread.

Still the ground shook, the fury and pain within me so terrible it spilled over in ever-increasing jolts.

“Do you long to die?” Eli shouted above the din. “Release me!”

Urns toppled. Shattering ceramic jingled in my ears, soon joined by the rush of loose stones that had been contained in the urns, the discordant clatter of them spilling across the fractured floor. Something heavy — though I brushed my hair from my eyes, I could not see — thundered to the ground, cutting off a reedy scream. Timbers in the ceiling above cracked ominously.

Oh gods.

The chaos surrounded me, within and without now. I knew what this was: earthquake. Herra had suffered them too. My whole world did and ever had, but never so intense and never so full of malice, violence and…

Fear supplanted my hate. As the noise and tumult of the quake rattled my bones, my terror flashed so bright.

I, who had uttered nary a word nor a sound since arriving at my new prison, screamed. “E-i!”

But then, he was there. My master. My lover and savior. Eli scrambled across the bucking floor and scooped me against him, curling his body protectively over mine. My fingers clawed into his tunic. I burrowed into the safety of his embrace, my fear so huge I wondered that I could survive it at all. Forget the crack of shattering stone, fragments and splinters of wood raining down on us. Forget the roar of the roof collapsing nearby, the cloud of dust that clogged my throat or the shower of debris that pelted my legs. As horrible as the endless quake was, the destruction paled against the fright that ate away at me like the ravenous beasts with which Xerxes has oft taunted me.

“I’m here. Right here. No one will take me from you,” Eli crooned in my ear, voice pitched to a comforting rumble over the devastation surrounding us. He held me close, so close I felt the gallop of his heartbeat through the layers of our clothes. His fingers threaded in my hair, his hand palming my scalp to urge me closer still. “Hush now. You’re safe, completely safe…”

On it went, his soothing voice. The scent of my master overwhelmed the cloying dust in my nostrils and the belly-twisting smell of freshly spilled blood. He pushed my nose into his neck — that special spot of his body I had made my home. The magic of his low murmur offered me sanctuary. Bewildered and scared, I could not resist him.

The jarring tremors gradually eased.

If only my body’s shake would abate so readily.

“That’s right. No one is hurting you,” Eli said, one wide palm brushing a clatter of pebbles from my back. “It’s over. Just hold onto me.”

I clung to him as fiercely as ever, but in spite of his whispered promises, my eyes squeezed shut, my muscles bunching to stone beneath his stroking caress.

Because I knew.

I would be punished.

I must be punished — flogged, beaten, passed among the men. I’d earned it, every lash. Herra had declared it and the Alekites must grasp that now too.

I could never be strong. Never be whole.

Clinging to my master, I sobbed into his neck, for they must surely see — ignorant slut and slave though I was — bad things happened when I wasn’t kept weak, when I wasn’t starved and abused. Evil happened.

And I was its root

* * *

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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I lied — Foreshock coming in March at Riptide

Okay, you know how I said you wouldn’t get anything new from me for a while? I lied.

Sometimes the earth really does move.

Kyle Armentrout is every gay manโ€™s fantasy in a toolbelt, but he canโ€™t even change a light bulb without injuring himself. Twice divorced and not long from the closet, heโ€™s found his way into a fulfilling relationship at last, but he canโ€™t quite escape the sense that heโ€™s left his manhood behind in the process.

When Kyleโ€™s latest DIY project slides into predictable disaster, his lover, Eric Mulholland, wants him to retire his Allen wrench and accept that he isnโ€™t less of a man for loving Eric.

Then the fault lines of their relationship meet the fault lines of the 2011 Northeast earthquake, and the two lovers learn not just to stay on their feet when the ground shakes, but to actually treasure the tremble.

All author royalties on sales of this title are being donated to the Trevor Project. Please consider ordering directly through our website to maximize Kari’s donation.

Foreshocked is a fun, smexy short story inspired by the northeast quake last summer. You can pre-order it now by clicking on the cover and if you do? .49 of the price goes to the Trevor Project. And in a few weeks time, you get the snarky hotness that is Kyle and Eric. Bursting with YAY, no? ๐Ÿ˜‰

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One Voice: MTM Update

By now, I’m sure most of you know RWI cancelled it’s More Than Magic contest:

After much consideration, RWI regretfully announces the MTM Published Author Contest has been cancelled…We have heard and understood the issues raised, and will take those concerns into consideration should the chapter elect to hold contests in the future….We recognize the decision to disallow same-sex entries is highly charged. We also opted not to accept YA entries. We do not condone discrimination against individuals of any sort.

Like many other LGBT romance writers, this turn of events saddens me. Why? The non-apology. YA entries weren’t allowed? All right. Did MTM indicate YA entries were excluded because accepting YA entries made the membership “uncomfortable” and that YA stories were “just too much?” No. Claiming you don’t condone discrimination when you have demonstrably discriminated doesn’t wash. An apology, a sincere, apology for the discrimination as well as the very real furor and damage that discrimination caused in the RWA community as well as the LGBT romance community is in order. Instead, we were presented with (shallow) justifications.

I’m not impressed.

With RWI, I’m not impressed, anyway, but with RWA? RWA’s Board of Directors posted a statement earlier today:

RWA members are served by 145 local and special interest chapters, and those chapters are individually incorporated and governed. So long as chapters fulfill their obligations under state law, as well as RWA and chapter bylaws, and their programs and services support the professional interests of career focused romance writers, policy affords them rather broad latitude in determining which programs and services to offer. Absent policy governing chapter-level contests, RWA’s board cannot intervene in the decisions of individual chapters.

Romance Writers of America does not condone discrimination of any kind. RWA’s policies regarding chapter programs and services will be discussed when the board reconvenes in March.

RWA stepped up to the plate. RWA has explicitly disavowed discrimination and has stated that the board will consider chapter policies in March. RWA listened. Can I put it any more plainly? We have been heard. Does that mean the slipper slope of chapter autonomy to discriminate, which sparked the furor, has been resolved? No. Of course not. It does, however, mean that RWA is addressing this issue. I — and many, many others — will be very interested in seeing what the board does, but I, for one, am grateful for the action RWA has taken.

So…what happens now?

RRW President Heidi Cullinan offered several excellent suggestions (talking points heinously stolen from Heidi’s blog):

  • If you are a member of RWA and a local online chapter, bring up LGBT rights issues and welcome LGBT romance authors when they join and encourage LGBT romance authors to join your chapter.
  • Ask RRW members to help you in your chapter contest judging and volunteer to judge yourself, especially if a contest is open to LGBT entries, and tell them thatโ€™s why youโ€™re volunteering.
  • Ask for RWA to author a clear statement on non-discriminatory practices in all contests and events.

And for readers:

  • Buy LGBT romances, and not just the kind you already like.
  • If you like LGBT, try het romance.
  • Promote great LGBT romances. Promote independent press. Promote other-than-white-skin-tone romances. Promote quality self-published works. Promote the books who have been relegated to other ghettos, if not as flavors of the reading rainbow you enjoy reading at least as other places which could use some floodlights.

All excellent suggestions, to which I’ll add just one more: a new twitter hashtag, #whyrwa. Why am I (or any other LGBT writer) still a RWA member? Why do we stay? That’s a question that’s been asked in the LGBT community and that answer, sadly, has been drowned out by the outrage over RWI’s discriminatory contest policy. I encourage each and every one of you to take a peek at the #whyrwa hashtag and if you’re a LGBT romance writer who has considered but hesitated to join RWA? Monitor it a bit. Give us a chance to tell you why RWA is — STILL — the organization for romance writers, including LGBT romance writers. There is value in joining RWA, even for (and I’d argue especially for) LGBT romance writers. Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water, folks. Come see what RWA (and RRW!) have to offer.

I cannot possibly express how grateful I am for the support of each of you as well as the support of my RRW chaptermates and fellow RWA members & allies.

Your one voice? Is beautiful.

Much love,
Kari

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What year is this? LGBT Romance in the Trenches

Yanno, as much as I like to have my fun, it can’t be all dinosaur shifters and hillbilly cowboys so brace yourself — serious post directly ahead.

I am a member of RWA (Romance Writers of America) and have been for quite some time. The conference I went to in NYC last summer? Was RWA’s National conference. I’m a member (or have been a member) of several RWA chapters. I pay my dues. I vote. I serve on chapter committees. I go to conferences. I take workshops, network with my peers and stay abreast of industry news. If you write romance, I firmly believe that becoming a RWA member is 100% the way to go and will make you a stronger writer. I’ve encouraged many writing peers to join.

With that said, being a M/M romance writer in RWA is not always a bed of roses. There are prejudices and bigotry in segments of the general population of America. It’d be unrealistic and silly to not expect a certain amount of bleedover. While the bulk of RWA members I’ve met and interacted with have had no issues with romance stories about two men (or women) falling in love, I’m afraid some have taken issue with it. Great issue.

RWA defines romance as:

A Central Love Story: The main plot centers around two individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work. (Emphasis mine. Full text)

Two individuals. In no respect are those individuals differentiated by gender or sexual orientation. LGBT romances are no less romances than stories with heterosexual couples, according to RWA’s own definition.

And yet some still insist on excluding LGBT romance from general romance categories.

Romance Writers Ink(RWI) is a Tulsa, OK based RWA chapter that sponsors an annual contest, More Than Magic (MTM), for published writers. In recent years, LGBT romances have been accepted as contest entries. Many have scored well in the contest, finaled and even won.

This year, MTM’s rules & regulations were changed to state:

โ€“ Note: MTM will no longer accept same-sex entries in any category.

No reason for this change is given.

So…I emailed the contest organizer to ask why this change was enacted. The contest organizer replied that RWI chapter members were “uncomfortable” with accepting same-sex contest entries. “Same-sex was just too much.”

Yeah, you read that right.

Romance is defined by RWA as a love relationship between two individuals, but RWI has unilaterally redefined romance as existing between one man and one woman for MTM.

And at RWA headquarters, no one seems to be willing to do anything about that. Chapters, apparently, are allowed to run their contest as they see fit, limiting contest entries by category and genre as appropriate. The only problem with this response is that LGBT is not considered a category or genre by RWA. If you look at the categories and genres for which RWA’s national awards are separated into for Golden Heart and Rita contests (2011 winners list), you will not find a LGBT category. Because there isn’t one. LGBT stories are entered into GH/Rita in the Paranormal category. Or Historical. Or Romantic Suspense. Whatever category fits the story without regard to the gender or sexual orientation of the protagonists.

And yet, RWA is allowing one of its chapters to make a distinction it does not make itself. RWA is allowing one of its chapters to specifically exclude LGBT entries from romance categories regardless of RWA’s own definition of romance as existing between two individuals rather than two heterosexuals.

If you have a few moments, I ask you that you please consider emailing a note to RWA to ask them to step forward to address this wrong. Romance is defined as occurring between two individuals by RWA. RWA has not excluded LGBT pairings from its own contest categories (Golden Heart, Rita), nor created a specific category for LGBT romances. As such, wholesale exclusion of LGBT romances gives every appearance of discrimination, intolerance and bigotry that, by virtue of its inaction, RWA is tacitly approving & condoning on a corporate level. You may email RWA at info@rwa.org.

If you feel so directed, you might also like to shoot an email to RWI’s MTM contest organizer at jackie.rwimagic@netscape.com.

As an individual, I am one voice. A small voice. Not very important. Easily dismissed and ignored.

Together, we are many voices. I encourage each and every one of you to let your voice be heard. Please join me and other LGBT authors raising awareness about this issue. Email. Tweet about it, using the hashtag #Rom4All (adding #RWA and #LGBT). Share it with friends on Facebook too.

What year is this? Hopefully, it’s the year when the exclusion of LGBT romance from (and by) the wider romance community will no longer be tolerated. Please help us make it happen.

With love & thanks…from the trenches,
Kari

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Dinosaur Shifter Flash Fic of #WOOT!

For compadres Missy Welsh, Megan Derr, Blaine Arden and everyone else on twitter who thought an absurd bit of dinosaur shifter flash fic sounded like fun…

๐Ÿ˜€

Dating & Dinosaurs

“Dinosaur shifters don’t exist,” Trix shouted over the bar noise. “They’re extinct, jackass!”

Barnaby slid his glasses off his nose and rubbed the lenses with a bandana extracted from his pocket. “Yup.” He peered at his friend from under his ten gallon hat. “And there are no gay cowboys in West Virginia, either.”

Trix shoved a hand through his black hair. “If dinosaur shifters had survived, we’d notice. They’re too big to hide.”

“I dunno. Parts of West Virginia are pretty isolated.” Barnaby tipped his hat up with a taunting finger. “Maybe they’re tiny dinosaurs.”

Trix glared. “Jerk.”

Barnaby shouldn’t yank his chain, but Trix was such a contrary guy, Barnaby couldn’t resist. “What if I could prove it.”

Muscles stiff, Trix snatched his beer from the bar and tipping his head back, he emptied the glass. “Impossible.”

Smothering a snort, Barnaby shoved his glasses back on his nose and reached for his own beer. “Twenty bucks says I can.”

Trix frowned. “How much have you been drinking?”

“One beer, same as you, and stop trying to distract me.” He fished his wallet out and counted out five crisp bills. “Fifty bucks. If you win.” Barnaby smirked, waiting for his new friend’s ornery to over-ride his stubborn. “If I win — ”

“You won’t.”

” — you have to do what I want for the rest of the night.”

“What?” Trix’s eyes widened. “You mean you’ll prove it now?”

Barnaby grinned. “For a date, I will.”

Trix rolled his eyes. “Evidence of a carnivorous animal doesn’t prove dick. You understand that, right? You moved here a few weeks ago so maybe you don’t know, but bears and big cats roam the woods.”

“I know. We watch for predators near the herd.” Barnaby slid from his stool. “But I’m not showing you a kill.”

Trix’s eyebrow arched.

Barnaby snickered. “C’mon.”

* * *

Since there was zero chance of finding a place to pull over on the trail masquerading as a road, Barnaby stopped and shifted the truck into park. Yanking his keys from the ignition, he glanced at the rear view mirror to spy Trix parking his motorcycle behind him. In civilization, blocking a road wasn’t cool, but Barnaby had explored these hills since moving to Hampshire County last month. The only house on this road was an abandoned shack. ATV enthusiasts and hunters avoided this stretch of land, especially after dark. It was reportedly haunted.

Perfect territory for dinosaur shifters.

Barnaby climbed from the truck. Trix slung his jacket over the bike and joined him. “Oh, you’re going to show me the ghost of an extinct dinosaur shifter,” he drawled.

Barnaby couldn’t miss the husky note in Trix’s voice, though. He turned to the woods and speared into the plants, bushes and saplings that made up the forest floor. “Follow me.”

“If ghosts get you, it’s on your head, pal.”

Trix followed, though.

For a few paces.

Until Barnaby threw his cowboy hat aside and broke into a sprint.

“Hey! What’re you…Damn it, wait!”

“Catch me.” Legs pumping, Barnaby yanked at the buttons of his shirt. He stripped it down his arms and hurled it over his shoulder. He laughed at Trix’s bitching and the rustle of greenery gone silver in the moonlight. “C’mon, you pussy. Bet you another fifty that you can’t catch me!”

Barnaby ran, but not far. He stopped to jerk his boots off, which wasn’t easy, but necessary considering the sounds of pursuit had — predictably — lessened with each taunt he’d shouted during the chase.

Leaning against a maple for balance, he pulled off his other boot. He tugged down the zipper of his jeans. He shoved denim down his hips and plopped in the dead leaves littering the ground to slide his jeans off his legs.

A slight weight landed on his shoulder, claws digging to pierce bare skin. Tiny claws. Though he’d expected it, Barnaby winced because those claws were razor sharp. A growl at his ear was his only warning before a small mouth full of needle-pointed teeth closed on his neck, just over the skin covering the thud-thud-thud of his pulse.

“Took you long enough.” He chuckled when the miniature dinosaur clinging to him hissed. “Gonna eat me, Trix?”

The prick bit down hard enough to draw blood. “You better be fast,” Barnaby said. “If not, a morsel like you will make a tasty appetizer once I shift too.”

Trix chirped in annoyance, but he released Barnaby’s neck. He hopped nimbly from Barnaby’s shoulder to his thigh, small hooked claws puncturing flesh again. Half the size of a house cat, Trix blinked at him, moonlight glimmering off his scales and the long tail snaking behind him. “Hesperonychus. I thought so.” Barnaby gave Trix a rub at the base of his neck. “This plot of land smelled like family.” He winked. “Distant cousins, anyway.”

Trix cocked his head to a curious angle.

Velociraptor,” Barnaby said at the unspoken question and laughed when Trix exploded in a flurry of hisses and berating chirps. “You need to get over your size issues, dude. A carnivore is a carnivore and a small version of me hides easier so you’re now the better predator.”

Trix huffed out a breath, then nudged the pocket of Barnaby’s discarded jeans.

“Yes, you still get the fifty for catching me.” Barnaby stood. “And I still get what I want: to hunt together, shift back to human form at dawn for a kiss and a cup of coffee at the truck stop. Sound good?”

Trix’s chatter indicated he was behind Barnaby’s plan.

“Perfect.” Barnaby smiled. “You sure make a man work hard to get a first date, though.”

THE END

(Please note the NON-cliffy HEA. Heh.)

And there you have it. My first flash fic, a bit of absurdity that was wicked fun to throw together. Anyone want to share the most fun/absurd shifter you’ve read (or would like to read) in M/M? Top (get your minds out of the gutter — I mean BEST) my dino shifters at brilliant WTFery in a comment below to steal my Are You Effin Kidding Me? (Yes, btw, I’m KIDDING) tiara away! ๐Ÿ˜‰

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