Monday Flash Fics with hors d’ oeuvres by Jeff Baker

Posted on November 6, 2017 by jeffbaker307

23131018_10155759402544787_3784023549434840280_n                                                       Do You Hear What I Hear?

 

                                                By Jeff Baker

 

            The reception had been going on for about twenty minutes when Adam leaned over and nuzzled Josh’s ear.

            “Don’t react and don’t look,” Adam said. “He just walked in.”

            “Is he armed?” Josh asked.

            “I can’t tell,” Adam said.

            Josh and Adam had been hired by one of the grooms just in case the one’s ex showed up at the wedding to cause trouble. The ceremony had gone on without incident but now they were all seated at big picnic tables in the park next to the wedding venue.

            “We’re detectives, not bodyguards,” Josh had said when Walter had hired them.

            “Didn’t you say you’d boxed in college?” Walter had asked.

            “I was a box boy in college,” Josh said.

            “Oh.”

            The gist of it was that Chris’ ex-boyfriend had said he was going to break up the wedding. He hadn’t threatened violence so Walter had remembered Josh from school.

            “Chaz can be mean,” Chris had said.

            “Is that why you broke up with him?” Adam had asked.

            “No, he broke up with me,” Chris had said.

The grooms were paying Adam and Josh plus renting their tuxes. It was a formal wedding. Plus, there were free hors d’ oeuvres. Then Chaz showed up.

            “He’s looking around, he’s staggering. I think he’s a little sloshed,” Adam said.

            Chaz was six-foot-something and probably would have looked at home in any football uniform instead of the suit and tie he was wearing. For a moment he stared at the table loaded with food.  With a yell, he tipped the table over. In the corner, the band stopped playing.

            “Oh, yeah, he’s a lot sloshed,” Adam said as he and Josh jumped up from their table.

            “Chaz no like buffet table, Chaz smash,” Josh said.

            Adam kept his eye on the groom’s table. They were seated with family and the wedding cake. It was on the other side of a tree so maybe Chaz hadn’t seen it yet. How bad was this going to turn out? A food fight or worse?

            Josh reached Chaz first.

            “Hey, buddy,” he said. “Let’s cool down. Okay?”

            Chaz snarled, raised a fist and swung at Josh, missed him by a half foot. Josh felt a breeze from the fist. Chaz staggered.

            “Hold up, man!” Adam said, reaching Chaz. Chaz stared, bleary eyed. Then he fell over on top of Adam.

            Adam was about 185 pounds and muscular. That didn’t help. He was slammed to the ground by the now unconscious Chaz.

            “My, God! You okay?” Josh said.

            “Yeah,” Adam said. “I just wonder how Mannix would handle this.”

            Somebody put Chaz in a car and hauled him off. Chris and Walter thanked Josh and Adam, even asking if there was anything they wanted.

            “Just one thing,” Josh said grinning at Adam in his food spattered tuxedo. “Have the band play something slow. It’s been a long afternoon.”

            Adam grinned back at him. He was still grinning as they danced, cheek to cheek, trying not to slip on the little cucumber sandwiches on the ground.

 

                                                       —end—

Posted in Fiction, Josh and Adam, LGBT, Monday Flash Fiction, Mystery, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

“All Hallow’s Eve.” Monday Flash Fics. for Oct. 30, 2017 by Jeff Baker

Posted on October 29, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22788627_10155743030119787_6000867585554295384_n                                                                             All Hallow’s Eve                                                                                                                                            By Jeff Baker                                                                                                         The house was an old Victorian, two stories made of graying brick with a flat roof. The yard had seen better days; brambles tangled through a growth of brown grass. The shutters on the windows were securely closed. Irving sighed. If the flag wasn’t up on the open mailbox with a stamped letter inside Irving would have assumed the house was deserted. He sighed and snapped the mailbox shut, glancing at the name on the box: Mordante.

            Mordante, he thought as he walked up the stone walkway. Mordante, Mordante. He reached the door and was about to reach for the big brass knocker when he saw it was in the shape of a skull. He stared for a minute, and then remembered. October Thirtieth. The family must have decorated for Halloween. He knocked on the door and after a few moments the door swung open and a blond, middle-aged man stood there in a turtleneck sweater and jeans.

            “Good afternoon Mister Mordan-tay,” Irving said. The man smiled broader and held up a hand.

            “Mordant, it’s pronounced Mordant. The e is silent.” Mr. Mordante said.

            “Oh, Mordant. Sorry,” Irving said pulling out one of the flyers. “Mr. Mordante, I represent Josh Silk who is a candidate for Representative here in the thirteenth district. Are you and your family registered to vote in the election next week?”

            “Ah! Civic duty!” Mordante said with an even broader smile. “But come in, come in. You shouldn’t be standing outside on a day like this!”

            “Well, okay,” Irving said following Mordante through the front door, glancing backward before the door closed. Clear, sunny, not a cloud in the sky.

            The interior of the house was greyish and somehow cozy with an old stone fireplace and antique furniture. The windows were tinted a dark green. The fireplace was made of the same gray stone with ornate carved groves and lines crisscrossing the mantle. Irving squinted: the lines almost resembled snakes.

            Irving took a few steps to the side and stared into a large room where a rocky gully on the floor with a small, flowing stream (inside the house?) blended somehow into a large, high-vaulted cathedral, complete with a gray, stone altar.

            “We only use it for Sabbaths,” Mordante said almost apologetically, steering Irving back to the living room.

            Irving was puzzled; he hadn’t noticed a high vaulted roof on the house when he’d driven by it in the side street. He hadn’t thought the house was that big.

            “Now, young man,” Mordante said. “About your candidate…”

            “Oh, yeah. I mean, yes,” Irving said. “Well, he, we, believe in the importance of everybody in the household being registered to vote in local elections.”

            “As do we!” Mordante said smiling even more broadly.

            Irving stared. It had to be his imagination. Mordante’s teeth seemed longer and sharper. And there seemed to be more of them. Must be the light.

            “Ah!” Mordante said. “Here is my lovely wife! As much a believer in the electoral process as I!”

            Irving turned. What was slithering towards them on the carpet bore a superficial resemblance to a boa constrictor, except it had fins and human-like eyes. Luckily, it was not between Irving and the door. Irving barely remembered throwing the door open, racing through the yard, starting the car and speeding off. He didn’t remember that he was screaming.

            He knew two things; he was done canvassing for the day and he was going to have a large drink.

            Maybe two.

 

                                                —end—

Author’s Note: I had another story plotted out for this picture and then I realized what day this was going to be posted on. So I came up with this. Happy Halloween!

           

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Halloween, Horror, Monday Flash Fiction, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Friday Flash Fics from Jeff Baker for October 27, 2017

Posted on October 27, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22528141_293174197846825_1323547811841694792_n

The Optimum Fractured Curve Against the Reality Flow Matrix Theory

                                                           By Jeff Baker

 

            I hadn’t seen Roberto Anyas in about thirty years when I turned around that morning to see him lying there in bed. He hadn’t been there a moment before. He stared at me and a broad smile spread over his face.

            “Connor?” the man in the bed said. Roberto’s voice all right.

“Roberto?” I managed to sputter out.

            “Looks that way!” Roberto said. “My gosh! You look great!”

            “Yeah, you too!” I said. “I mean, you really haven’t changed.” I was convinced I was still in bed asleep and that it was the middle of the night, not mid-morning. Usually when I dreamed about Roberto Anyas he was bare armed and bare chested. Like now.

            “How long has it been?” Roberto asked. “No, really, how long? I’ve got no way of knowing. Just blame the tattoos.” He pointed to the green lines that striped and crisscrossed his left arm and shoulder.

            “Well, the last time I saw you was right after we graduated in 1983,” I said.

            “Eighty-three,” Roberto said, leaning back in bed. “That was about five years ago for me.”

            “Five years?” I aid. “More like thirty-five.”

            “Like I said, you can blame the tattoos,” Roberto said. “Hey, you have a pair of pants I can borrow?”

            “Sure,” I said. By this time, I was expecting to walk down a hallway and find myself in my high school class on the day of the big test. Still, a lot of it seemed real. I grabbed the sweatpants from the hall closet (our only closet) and turned back to the bedroom.

            “So, you zapped here from, like, 1988 or something?” I asked, tossing Roberto the sweatpants.

            “More like the early 75th Century,” he said as he slid further under the covers and started putting on the pants. Going for modesty. “After I graduated, I got involved with this think tank. We were going to try and reach the future.” He grunted, presumably pulling on the pants. “The tattoos are microdots. They’re linked in with the mainframe and with me. I can work it mentally so I went ahead about eight thousand years. Tried to learn something about future technology.” He shook his head. “They didn’t like that. I got out of there in a hurry. You were the first person I thought of so I homed in on you.” He looked around at the bedroom.  “I was aiming for the dorm, back about 1982.”

            “Why me?” I asked.

            “You were a really clear memory in a specific time frame,” Roberto said. “Besides, I really didn’t have any time to think about it. I had to get out of…where I was, fast.”

            “Without your pants.” I said, smiling.

            “Yeah.” Roberto said. “I was in a hurry. Oh, and thanks for these.” He tossed back the covers and stood up. The sweats just fit him. I stared. He looked just like he did 35 years ago. Back in the dorm.

            “They belong to Jason,” I said.

            “Thank him for me,” Roberto said. “He’s your boyfriend?”

            “Husband,” I said. “We got married about three years ago.”

            Roberto grinned. “Husband! Niiiiice! I could get to like this, what is it again, 2017? Almost as much as I liked the dorm.”

            I remembered the dorm in 1982. The windows open with the spring breeze. The radio on low. The lights off.

            “But I have to go,” Roberto said. “I’m stretching things with the optimum fractured curve against the reality flow matrix to drop me here and get me, well, back where I belong again.”

            “Nice seeing you,” I said. It was even if this was an increasingly realistic dream.

            “If I’m in the area, I’ll send you guys a postcard or something,” Roberto said.

            “Sounds good,” I said. “Hey, if you get there, say ‘hi’ to 1982 for me, okay?”

            “Will do.”

            “Hold up a minute,” I said looking out the window at the driveway. “Jason went out to the store; he should be back in a few minutes. He’s bringing donuts. If you like we could…”

            I turned back and Roberto was gone. I blinked a couple of times. I sat down on the bed, remembering 1982. It was a dream, I said to myself as I stood up again and walked over to the closet running my hands over the clothes.

            Nonetheless, Jason’s old sweatpants were gone.

 

                                                —end—

Posted in Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Science Fiction, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

“How about a ride?” (With Monday Flash Fics for October 23, 2017 by Jeff Baker

Posted on October 22, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22552607_10155728820024787_7832669725760103066_n

Skuller

By Jeff Baker

“First of all, I never liked the guy, y’know? Not that Skuller’s name was a turn-off. No, he was the turn-off. No manners, no class, no job. He was kind of cute, and he was collecting tattoos which looked kinda hot, but he wasn’t the kind of guy a girl wanted to be with, y’know? At least, not this girl. Anyway, one night, yes that night he pulls up in front of the house right before dinner and starts honking the horn on whatever car he’d stolen. He waves this sign out the window that says Let’s Get Lost and opens the passenger door, y’know for me to get in with him? So, I tell him to get lost himself, y’know? Skuller gets pissed and roars off, giving me the bird out the driver’s side window. So, anyway, the next morning we hear the news on the radio (just before the weather and all the local kid’s birthdays) that some lunatic tried to drive through a liquor store but clipped a fire hydrant and flipped over and burst into flames, probably because he’d been tampering with the gas tank. Skuller, of course. Anyway, it was no surprise and no big loss but the day after his funeral there’s this honking in front of the house (right around dinner again) and who do you think is there but Skuller. Same car, looking singed and his face looks like he’s made up to play in a cheap zombie movie. Well, my Dad gets mad but not half as mad as I was when he waves that same stupid sign in my face and I’m on the verge of telling him to get lost again and that I don’t have any desire to re-enact one of those lame old teenage tragedy songs, and certainly not with him. By this time my little brother comes up and suggests I say ‘Skuller’ three times (he loves those kind of movies) and them my Dad suggests that he go to Hell and Skuller just laughs and says something about Hell not wanting him. So I tell him I don’t want him either and Skuller just looks at me funny and drives off. And I ought to tell you that was the last I ever saw of him but we see each other now and then, usually when I have to work late and I pass Main Street downtown where the kids race each other and sometimes Skuller roars through scaring them all. Y’know, now that I think of it, Skuller wasn’t even the worst boy who wanted to take me out, there was the Renaldo kid, remember him? But enough about me, what’s all this about you and this big shot from Kansas City?”

 

—end—

 

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Monday Flash Fiction, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

“Flying Blind.” Blind Date for Friday Flash Fics, October 20, 2017 by Jeff Baker

Posted on October 19, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22405792_290821531415425_4835395192658818847_n                                                                  Flying Blind                                                                                                                                                   By Jeff Baker

 

            I hate time travel. And going on blind dates. And this was both, and it was all going wrong.

            When I arrived, I took off the glasses and pulled out my revulator  to check to see if I was in the right place and right era. Mine was one of the cheap ones. It said I was “somewhere in the western hemisphere” and it had an estimation of the date. Yeah, an “estimation.” Oh, and it said two-fifteen in the afternoon. Great. I’ve shown up late for things but being a century or so off for a date was overdoing it.

            “Steve!” a voice called from behind me. I turned and saw a tall, reddish-blond guy in jeans and a green sweater climbing the small hill I’d apparently appeared on.

            “You’re Steve, right?”

            “Yeah,” I said. “You’re Walter, right” I asked.

            “Yeah,” he said. He pulled out a revulator and stared at the display. “Any idea where we are?”

            “Nope,” I said. “According to this, it’s the twenty-seventh century. Probably.”

            “Mine says it’s 1926,” Walter said. “Any idea which of us is right?”

            “Nope,” I said, clicking on the display. “At least we homed in on each other. Well, there should be a place to sit down and eat somewhere near…”

            There was a huge roar. We turned and stared. Neither of us was sure if the giant dinosaur we saw ambling towards us belonged to the future or the prehistoric past. We didn’t try to figure it out, we just ran.

            “You got recall on yours?” Walter yelled, running.

            “Yeah!” I said. “Yours?”

            “Yeah!” Walter said. “Grab my hand!”

            I slowed down enough to grab his hand as we both keyed in the emergency recall option and pressed, just as the dinosaur-thing gave another loud roar. Very close.

            Everything faded into a greyish blur with black stripes and flashes. It reminded me of old images I’d seen of an old home video viewer from the mid-twentieth century.

            We wound up back at the TimeDate offices and had our first date in their employee cafeteria, while they were deciding whether to give us a refund or not. And I didn’t know whether it would all lead to a second date. All we knew was it wouldn’t be any place with dinosaurs.

 

                                                —end—

 

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, LGBT, Science Fiction, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Canis Major; Monday Flash Fiction from Jeff Baker

Posted on October 15, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22309022_10155704774644787_5387197726199188837_n

Author’s Note: Again, this one is probably more a poem than a story. At least I think it’s poetic!

                                             Canis Major

                                              By Jeff Baker

                                   

            They’d spent the usual week apart. That is, for about eight or nine hours he wasn’t in their apartment. It was something the dog and the man were used to. Then, the daily homecoming, the tail wagging, the affectionate talk, the long sleep in the dark.

            And then, the weekend. Usually at this time of year with the windows open and the long nap on the living room sofa, snuggled together.

            And the dreams, the dreams where they were sitting by a huge window watching everything pass by. Or running in an endless, green park, man and dog deliriously happy. Or they are in the night sky, sometimes running past Orion and Canis Major, sometimes they are Orion and Canis Major.

            And, upon awakening, it never occurs to the dog or the man that yes, they did share the same dream.

            Such are the ways of love.

 

                                                —end—

 

 

Posted in Fiction, Monday Flash Fiction, Poems, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Friday Flash Fics. Inaugural Edition (From Jeff Baker.)

Posted on October 12, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22154570_287589925071919_6412678733566145973_n

          “…To The Best Of His Ability…”

By Jeff Baker

Author’s Note: As this is the inaugural edition of Friday Flash Fics, I decided this sort of tale would be appropriate.—-jeff

Schuyler Hampton Jones tossed his bowtie on the sofa next to his jacket, pants and shoes.

“As long as I remember where the bathroom is here, we’ll be okay,” he said. He grinned at Jim who had shucked out of his tuxedo and was seated on the floor next to their bed in just his shorts.

“Too bad you didn’t take my advice and wear the top hat,” Jim said.

“Not everybody can pull off the top hat,” Schuyler said, carefully taking off his cufflinks (they had been his father’s) and putting them in a box on the dresser. “J.F.K. did. I think Coolidge or somebody did.”

“And Lincoln,” Jim added.

“Yeah. Big shoes!” Schuyler said, putting his shirt on a hanger in the closet..

“Don’t forget Armbruster,” Jim said. “He was so preoccupied he kept his top hat on all through the swearing-in.”

“Don’t remind me!” Schuyler said with another grin. “I’m just old enough to remember that!”

“A little before my time,” Jim said. “Besides, Forty-three isn’t old. Not for you!”

“Neither is thirty-seven,” Schuyler said, bending down to kiss Jim.

“You don’t look old and gray,” Jim said.

Schuyler laughed and blushed.  “Give me about four years,” he said.

“Hey, how long have we been up anyway?” Jim asked.

Schuyler looked at the clock. “Since six-thirty yesterday morning, going on twenty-two hours.”

“Ow!” Jim said. “Definitely bedtime!”

“I’ll probably get up early,” Schuyler said with a yawn.

“It is early,” Jim said.

“Yeah, Schuyler said. “Guess I’ll get a couple of hours sleep.”

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

“Mister President,” came a voice. “My apologies for disturbing you but there’s a call for you. It’s the Joint Chiefs. The Armenian situation, I believe.”

“Be right there,” Schuyler said, starting to put his pants and shoes back on. He glanced over at Jim. “Sorry about this!”

“Hey, it’s the job!” Jim said grinning. “We knew what we were getting into!”

Schuyler grabbed his shirt and quickly buttoned it up, deciding to forgo his tie.

“James Thomas Randall, I’d marry you all over again!” Schuyler said kissing Jim passionately.

“Me too!” Jim said. “You’d better go talk to the Joint Chiefs.”

“Yeah. See you later,” Schuyler said. “Hey! Norcross didn’t wear a top hat either!”

“Way, way before my time!” Jim said grinning again as Schuyler headed out the door.

Jim sat on the bed for a moment then turned off the light. After a moment he got up and looked through the drapes out the window at the snow-covered city, the Washington Monument lit in the distance. It was going to be an interesting four years. He lay back in bed and pulled the covers around him.

No, eight years, he thought with a grin.

—end—

Posted in Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Monday Flash Fiction for 10/9/17. Finding something in the woods…

Posted on October 8, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22089374_10155685964239787_2860641981802511200_n

                                     Love and Languish for His Sake

                                                   By Jeff Baker

 

            They stood there staring down at the boy lying on the forest floor.

“I found him right over here,” Pete said.

The two men were just about a mile from Chaz’s parents house. Chaz had taken Pete out to show where he used to play when he was a kid, living near a forest. They’d wandered around to see if they could find where Pete had tried to build a treehouse to see if any of it was still there. Then Chaz heard Pete hollering. He ran over to where Pete was standing.

On the ground was a young man, maybe eighteen, eyes closed, pale. No sign of breathing.

“You think he’s dead?” Pete asked. “He didn’t wake up when I yelled.”

“No,” Chaz said. “I don’t think he’s dead.” Chaz was staring; there was something familiar about the figure, in his jeans, boots, suspenders at his sides, skinny body, feathery texture to the hair, lips that…He’d seen him before, he knew it. Chaz looked up at the sky through the trees, remembering. He’d even seen the knife at the kid’s belt before.

“Should we wake him up?” Pete asked.

“I don’t think so,” Chaz said. “I think he’s a fairy.”

Pete gave Chaz a glare that dripped of unspoken sarcasm.

“No,” Chaz said grinning and kissing Pete. “Not that. I mean a fairy. A fae. A spirit being. I think I saw him before. A long time ago.”

“How long ago?” Pete asked.

“I was about seven years old the last time I saw him,” Chaz said. “It was about twenty years ago. It was a summer afternoon and I was running through these woods and I saw him just lying there like he is now. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.” He let out a long breath of air. “I imagine I’d had feelings like that before but this was the first time I really consciously realized what I was feeling. I was drawn to him, but,” Chaz shook his head. “There was something unnatural about him. So I ran.”

“Did he chase after you?” Pete asked.

“No,” Chaz said. “I ran to my Grandfather’s. He lived near us back then, so I ran there, out of breath and tried to tell him I’d found a dead boy in the woods. Grandpa had me take him to where I’d found the boy on the ground and he wasn’t there. There was grass growing there and it didn’t look flattened like it would have been if someone had been lying there. My Grandfather looked at me and asked me to describe the boy. When I did, he told me that if I ever saw him again I was not to touch him or even go near him.”

Pete stared back at the young man on the forest floor.

“What I remember most vividly about that afternoon is the knife hanging from the boy’s belt.” Chaz pointed. “That same knife right there.”

Impulsively, Pete reached down for the knife. Chaz grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

“That’s something I read years later,” Chaz said. “If you partake of the food of the fairy folk, you become trapped in their world.”

Pete and Chaz stared down at the boy on the ground for a few minutes.

“Let’s get out of here,” Pete said.

“Yeah,” Chaz said. “I’d much rather be in our world.”

 “Since when do you use words like partake?” Pete asked with a grin as they walked out of the woods.

Chaz grinned and squeezed his hand. “Since I get to walk back home with my husband.”

They did not look back at the forest.

 

                                    —end—

 

           

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Monday Flash Fiction, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

“The Stark Divide” J. Scott Coatsworth’s new book! (And it’s book one!) Available October 10th!

Posted on October 4, 2017 by jeffbaker307

j-scott-coatsworthThe_Stark_Divide_Updated-2

My friend J. Scott Coatsworth, a fine author as well as editor, has a new book out; “The Stark Divide.” But here, I’ll let him tell it

Publisher: DSP Publications

Author: J. Scott Coatsworth

Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson

Length: 284 Pages

Format: eBook, Paperback

Release Date: 10/10/17

Pairing: MM

Price: 6.99, 16.99

Series: Liminal Sky (Book One)

Genre: Sci Fi, Space, Gen Ship, Apocalypse, Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer

 

Blurb:

 

Some stories are epic.

 

The Earth is in a state of collapse, with wars breaking out over resources and an environment pushed to the edge by human greed.

 

Three living generation ships have been built with a combination of genetic mastery, artificial intelligence, technology, and raw materials harvested from the asteroid belt. This is the story of one of them—43 Ariadne, or Forever, as her inhabitants call her—a living world that carries the remaining hopes of humanity, and the three generations of scientists, engineers, and explorers working to colonize her.

 

From her humble beginnings as a seedling saved from disaster to the start of her journey across the void of space toward a new home for the human race, The Stark Divide tells the tales of the world, the people who made her, and the few who will become something altogether beyond human.

Humankind has just taken its first step toward the stars.

 

Book One of Liminal Sky

 

Excerpt:

 

“DRESSLER, SCHEMATIC,” Colin McAvery, ship’s captain and a third of the crew, called out to the ship-mind.

 

A three-dimensional image of the ship appeared above the smooth console. Her five living arms, reaching out from her central core, were lit with a golden glow, and the mechanical bits of instrumentation shone in red. In real life, she was almost two hundred meters from tip to tip.

 

Between those arms stretched her solar wings, a ghostly green film like the sails of the Flying Dutchman.

 

“You’re a pretty thing,” he said softly. He loved these ships, their delicate beauty as they floated through the starry void.

 

“Thank you, Captain.” The ship-mind sounded happy with the compliment—his imagination running wild. Minds didn’t have real emotions, though they sometimes approximated them.

 

He cross-checked the heading to be sure they remained on course to deliver their payload, the man-sized seed that was being dragged on a tether behind the ship. Humanity’s ticket to the stars at a time when life on Earth was getting rapidly worse.

 

All of space was spread out before him, seen through the clear expanse of plasform set into the ship’s living walls. His own face, trimmed blond hair, and deep brown eyes, stared back at him, superimposed over the vivid starscape.

 

At thirty, Colin was in the prime of his career. He was a starship captain, and yet sometimes he felt like little more than a bus driver. After this run… well, he’d have to see what other opportunities might be awaiting him. Maybe the doc was right, and this was the start of a whole new chapter for mankind. They might need a guy like him.

 

The walls of the bridge emitted a faint but healthy golden glow, providing light for his work at the curved mechanical console that filled half the room. He traced out the T-Line to their destination. “Dressler, we’re looking a little wobbly.” Colin frowned. Some irregularity in the course was common—the ship was constantly adjusting its trajectory—but she usually corrected it before he noticed.

 

“Affirmative, Captain.” The ship-mind’s miniature chosen likeness appeared above the touch board. She was all professional today, dressed in a standard AmSplor uniform, dark hair pulled back in a bun, and about a third life-sized.

 

The image was nothing more than a projection of the ship-mind, a fairy tale, but Colin appreciated the effort she took to humanize her appearance. Artificial mind or not, he always treated minds with respect.

 

“There’s a blockage in arm four. I’ve sent out a scout to correct it.”

 

The Dressler was well into slowdown now, her pre-arrival phase as she bled off her speed, and they expected to reach 43 Ariadne in another fifteen hours.

 

Pity no one had yet cracked the whole hyperspace thing. Colin chuckled. Asimov would be disappointed. “Dressler, show me Earth, please.”

 

A small blue dot appeared in the middle of his screen.

 

“Dressler, three dimensions, a bit larger, please.” The beautiful blue-green world spun before him in all its glory.

 

Appearances could be deceiving. Even with scrubbers working tirelessly night and day to clean the excess carbon dioxide from the air, the home world was still running dangerously warm.

 

He watched the image in front of him as the East Coast of the North American Union spun slowly into view. Florida was a sliver of its former self, and where New York City’s lights had once shone, there was now only blue. If it had been night, Fargo, the capital of the Northern States, would have outshone most of the other cities below. The floods that had wiped out many of the world’s coastal cities had also knocked down Earth’s population, which was only now reaching the levels it had seen in the early twenty-first century.

 

All those new souls had been born into a warm, arid world.

 

We did it to ourselves. Colin, who had known nothing besides the hot planet he called home, wondered what it had been like those many years before the Heat.

 

Buy Links Etc:

 

DSP Publications (paperback): https://www.dsppublications.com/books/the-stark-divide-by-j-scott-coatsworth-416-b

 

DSP Publications (eBook): https://www.dsppublications.com/books/the-stark-divide-by-j-scott-coatsworth-415-b

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Stark-Divide-Liminal-Sky-Book-ebook/dp/B074G2NJP6/

 

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-stark-divide-j-scott-coatsworth/1126901106?ean=9781635338324

 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-stark-divide

 

iBooks: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-stark-divide/id1266474103?mt=11&at=1l3vtqV

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35834187-the-stark-divide

 

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/book/the-stark-divide/

Addenda: Here’s the correct link to Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B074G2NJP6

Author Bio:

 

Scott spends his time between the here and now and the what could be. Enticed into fantasy and sci fi by his mom at the tender age of nine, he devoured her Science Fiction Book Club library. But as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were in the books he was reading.

 

He decided that it was time to create the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at his local bookstore. If there weren’t gay characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

 

His friends say Scott’s mind works a little differently – he sees relationships between things that others miss, and gets more done in a day than most folks manage in a week. He loves to transform traditional sci fi, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something unexpected.

 

Starting in 2014, Scott has published more than 15 works, including two novels and a number of novellas and short stories.

 

He runs both Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark, sites that bring queer people together to promote and celebrate fiction that reflects their own lives.

 

Author Links:

 

Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

 

Facebook (personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth

 

Facebook (author page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor/

 

Twitter: https://www.facebook.com/jscoatsworth/

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

 

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

 

Posted in Books, J. Scott Coatsworth, Science Fiction, The Stark Divide, Writing | 1 Comment

Conference at Night; Monday Flash Fics for October 2, 2017, by Jeff Baker

Posted on October 1, 2017 by jeffbaker307

22007681_10155668010949787_9186696030992110146_n

                                    Conference At Night

                                        By Jeff Baker

            The mid-afternoon light streaming in through the big windows behind them made the white floors and the minimalist furniture look even brighter, but to Stephen it felt like the middle of the night. He wished he was wearing something warmer than a t-shirt. Augie, wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and boots was dressed like he was ready to go into the woods. Stephen shuddered.

            Augie was explaining what the three of them already knew; nobody had missed Joey, everybody believed that he’d started his long weekend early. Stephen stared at Rich, in his flannel shirt, matching Augie’s. How could Rich have helped Augie do this? How could he just sit there and drink coffee?

            Stephen shut his eyes tight. He had helped the two of them clean up. He’d volunteered the freezer he had in the building’s basement. He’d helped them carry Joey down to the basement in the private elevator. He was in this as deep as either of them were.

            Augie’s plan was simple; put Joey in his own sleeping bag (which he kept in his office), put Joey in the car, drive down the back roads that Augie knew so well, weigh the sleeping bag down with some bricks, make sure it was zipped up and dump Joey in the lake.

            Weigh the sleeping bag down. Stephen shuddered again.

            No one would find Joey. The lake was deep and miles away from any town or farm.

            Rich finished his coffee. Stephen noticed Rich’s hands were shaking as he set the cup down. Nonetheless, Rich grinned and nodded at Augie. Stephen wanted to run, but in the last two days he’d learned just how dangerous Augie really was. So he grinned and nodded too.

            The freezer key was still in Stephen’s pocket. Somehow, it felt cold.

            In the bright sunlight, Stephen felt the stifling darkness closing in around him.

 

                                                —end—

Posted in Monday Flash Fiction, Mystery, Uncategorized | 2 Comments