Why Not Call The Cops?

“She’s supposed to be out at the whorehouse,” said Tiffany.  “We have a whorehouse.  Courtesy of the wind towers we have a whorehouse, but now that all the wind towers are built and all, it’s probably going to shutdown.  Some guys have gotten used to it, locals I mean, but not enough, I would think, to keep it going.

“I don’t know if Hope is actually working there or not.  It’s out at Butcher’s Camp.  She was out there, but she might’ve just been crashing.  Then like screwing with me because she was bored.  Making me think she’s a hooker or whatever. I know where it is.  But I’ve never gone inside.  I don’t want to go inside unless Hope actually is in there in which case I’d probably have to drag her out.  She’s lazy and if she isn’t she’s scared and if she isn’t scared she’s angry and just wants to self-immolate or something.  She wants to burn up and thinks she can set the whole world on fire from just her embers.  She’s selfish like that.  It’s really, really frustrating.”

“She’s a kid?” asked Sipe.

“Yeah.  My age,” said Tiffany.  “A little younger.  Barely.”

“Why not call the cops?”

     She laughed.  

The Lipless Gods.  Available at Smashwords, Apple, and Amazon. Only $.99.   

 

Two Men And A Restroom

     Sipe flushed the urinal.  Quinn almost certain Sipe hadn’t produced any stream at all, but could be the guy just had the angles all figured out, could pee silent.

     Sipe washed his hands.  Pumped the action on the paper towel dispenser and wiped his hands dry.  He tossed the towels into the trash.  The tin flap waggling on the hinge the only noise in the world while Sipe looked up and into Quinn’s eyes.  Sipe raised his right hand.  Quinn flinched away from the hand.  Wrong thing to do, but it was done.
     “Hey.  No.  It’s all right.  It’s nothing.”  Sipe lowered his hand.  “I just wanted to touch.  It pays off, all the work you put into that curly, pretty hair.  You hit the salon once a week or you do it on your own?”

     “You’re a weird little fucker, you know that?”

     Sipe like some robot never issued protocols that lead to the formation of a smile.  The machine knew to blink.  The pupils to dilate.  Pores to widen. 

     “I ought to pat you down,” said Quinn. 

     “We already did that.  Mr. Lowry did that for everyone.”

     “You were in here alone.”

     “For five seconds.  Maybe six.”

     “Yeah.  Alone is alone.”

     “Because you lollygagged.”

     “Still.”

     “You’re right,” said Sipe.  “You know your stuff.  Hours ago, I hid a shotgun under the urinal cake.”

The Lipless Gods.  Available at Smashwords and Amazon.

 

That Thing I Used To Do

So far  The Lipless Gods  sample has been downloaded 14 times.  I've sold 3 books at $.99 each.  No reviews. 

Apparently, if I understood the ebook forum quote correctly, for every 1 million ebooks out there, 40 are successful. 

When I converted the basic .doc file on Smashwords, TLG was 65th in the queue.  This was done around 7 AM on a Sunday morning. 

The horrible thing - and by no means is it horrible compared to the actual human-caused horrors of the world - is watching my ability to focus or to even want to read dissipate. 

I've strangely grown accustomed to not writing, but I still remained able to read.  Not so much anymore.  Apparently focusing on getting TLG out on Smashwords and Amazon and then considering killing the Smashwords account to go solely out on Kindle Select, among other ebook issues, has either completely closed off or momentarily corrupted this core activity.  Not a tragedy.  But definitely odd.