LYCANTHROPY  Contestant

Pipeline danced through the air from a distant transistor radio and the salt breeze wisped through the sparse dune grass. There were a-framed waves to be had, and his pack was taking them, in the moment: one last ride at this beach, before they moved on.
 
Cashed, he lay back basking in the warmth of the sun, its rays warming his toned body. To nap or maybe look for a Betty — so much daylight, so little time. His greatest concern for the day was to have one like last night. He could still smell her scent, could still taste her. She was still all over him. She was boss. Girls like that only came along every so often, but they were worth trying to get again.
 
“What a night,” he thought. He couldn’t even remember her name, if he ever had known it. He’d spent most of the day looking for her, or someone like her. A nondescript Betty, there were a lot of femmes at this beach, but it couldn’t be just anyone, he had his type, she had to have some  curves. Skinny girls didn’t have enough meat on their bones, and if she was too big, she didn’t feel right.
 
He knew it was time to move down the coast. He thought the youngsters might howl a bit — for two of them this had been their first beach since they joined — but he was the Alpha. Being Alpha meant it was his choice and no one would question that, or else they’d have to deal with the big dog. And none of his bros wanted that. He thought he’d lay back and enjoy the sun for a while then have the boys pack the woody up. Right now all he had to do was dream until dusk. He drifted off into a self-satisfied sleep.
 
“Yo Bra, the loces are starting a bonfire.” He has roused from his dreams by Slim, perhaps the fattest surfer ever. “There should be plenty uh action in a bit.”
 
“Toss me a beer, and I may forget you’re blocking my sun.” Slim grabbed a can from the cooler, throwing it to Moon Dog.
 
“Your Sun. The fat bastard’s blocking the whole sun,” shouted Dutch as he climbed the dune towards the group.
 
“It’s ok. I’ll go on a diet. Starting tomorrow I won’t really eat for a month.” They all laughed at Slim’s joke.
 
“You say that every month, Slim, and yet,” Dutch said rubbing Slim’s belly. “Nothing ever changes. Hell, Slim, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not fat –  just pregnant.”
 
“Dude, I just woke up,” Moon Dog barked, “and I’d like to keep my appetite.” He stood up. “Have the youngsters load the wagon. I’d like to hit the road right after the bonfire.”
 
“Already done, Dog,” Dutch said, gesturing towards the loaded cars.
 
“We sent them down to scout for Betties already,” added Slim.
 
Dog looked down the dunes at the bonfire, it was a shame to leave, he thought, but they’d been hunting this spot for a month now, and pretty soon their welcome would be worn. Besides, there were other beaches down the coast, where the femmes weren’t worried, and the waves were just as gnarly.
 
“Let’s hit the fire before the kids scare all the femmes away.” He said as he started down the dune. Dutch and Slim followed dutifully.
 
Then pinkish hues of sunset began to chase the daylight away while the flames from the fire reached out to kiss the coming night. The local guys had bailed on the bonfire, once the three of them showed. They knew the girls weren’t interested in anyone they saw every day. Traveling surfers seemed so exotic to small town girls — girls with stars in their eyes, who wanted to see the world, and find their prince. Girls who dreamt big dreams but knew they’d marry the local boys they had just chased away, the boys they called friend. Girls who knew their lives would never change.
 
Two more hours of small talk and then the real fun would begin, thought Moon Dog. The youngsters had already broken from the pack, they weren’t very particular, and would wander off with any girl that would go. Dutch was working it, chatting up a particularly tasty looking Betty. Moon Dog almost pulled rank, but decided to let Dutch have his fun. Slim was dancing wildly with a group, planning to grab whoever was closest when the time was right.
 
He hadn’t found his type, but had found two that would do. They walked back towards his car. The youngster had taken the woody, so he’d take the Chevy. A short drive to some place secluded and then he could really sink his teeth into things.
 
The Chevy growled as they tore away from the beach, he knew a little place higher up the dunes, a private place, where the full moon would be bitchin’. A few miles up the dunes, a bottle of cheap wine, a few lies and they were there.
 
The winds were starting to pick up as the as the full moon climbed into the night sky. He could see the distant waves crashing on the beach, greedily grabbing sand and pulling it, screaming, back to the sea. He knew the Betties were ready, their scents were so thick in the car he could taste them. Their panting and petting was fogging over the windows, he was breathless, as the moon reached its peak. And then the fun, the change began, his panting turned into ecstatic screaming, which turned into howls as he morphed. Their panting turned into terror as they realized that their lives would change,  that they would end.

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©2010 Scott Maiorca

Scott is a virtual teacher; he’s been teaching from his couch for a year now, and needs a new couch. He’s also a writer, although he frequently gets amnesia and forgets that. After a seventh fit of amnesia Ihe remembers, so he writes after putting his kids to bed. Scott can be found at http://scottmaiorca.wordpress.com/ and reached by email at scott.maiorca@live.com.

Naomi Kramer twists dark tales with a wicked sense of humor. We talked about the inspiration behind and the creation of her e-book, DEAD (ish).

 LT:   Tell us about your book DEAD (ish), and your two main characters.

NK:  DEAD(ish) is all about death, vengeance, and truth - or lack thereof. Linda dies under suspicious circumstances. She finds herself still on earth, in ghost form, and oddly obsessed about her corpse. Her killer, Mike, should know where it is, right? So she asks him politely for help, and he tells her to go away and get over it. Linda’s not the type to take this sort of crap, so she decides to torment him until he tells her. To cover all her bases, though, she also hires a private investigator.

Linda’s a chick with arty tendencies and a huge blind spot - Mike. Until she dies, of course, then she works out some home truths about the guy. Mike’s a self-obsessed arse who even lies to himself. He honestly doesn’t understand why Linda’s so bent out of shape over the whole dead thing.

 
LT:   What inspired you to write it?

NK:  DEAD(ish) started out as a short scenario that came to me one night as I was trying to get to sleep - it’s the initial scene still. Linda is begging Mike for help, and he’s telling her to get lost and get used to the whole ‘dead’ thing. And then months later, I heard Mike in the back of my head, talking about his dead psycho ex who was driving him batty.

 LT:   Did you set out to write a humorous story, or did it evolve that way over time?

NK:  It definitely evolved. Not that I’m any good at writing dead-serious stuff anyway - I have a sense of the ridiculous which insists on coming through. Practically everything I’ve ever written has a laugh hidden in it somewhere. Even high-school essays, which surprisingly enough didn’t endear me to my teachers. Weird, huh?

But the humour only really came to the fore in DEAD(ish) when Linda stole the show. It was all Mike and Trent for a while, and she was supposed to be the wronged-antagonist figure. But she started talking away in my head, and she had a WICKED sense of humour. And she loved making Mike miserable with it. And I loved indulging her, because sometimes I’ve longed to wreak a little creative ‘moral assistance’ of my own. You know, encouraging folks back on the straight and narrow and out of my hair?

LT:   What other books/stories have you written?

NK:  You know how there are two basic types of people - starters and finishers? Finishers are the folk that start a project with great care, plan it all out, then do it. Starters… they start fifteen different projects a week. Well, I’m a starter at heart. If my focus isn’t spread across three or four different plotlines, I lose it altogether. That’s a long way of saying, I haven’t finished anything else yet. Nothing publish-worthy, anyhow. But everything I have written so far - finished or unfinished - is posted at Nomesque Fiction. A few short-short stories, a re-interpretation of Little Red Riding Hood, and a set of fables - some a little sweet for my tastes.

LT:   When it comes to paranormal creatures, which are your favorite to write about, and why?

NK:  I’ll have to say ghosts. Linda was SUCH a blast to write about, partly because she had so few traditional limitations. It’s taken for granted that ghosts may be able to both walk through walls AND pick things up, for example. That said, I’d love to write about vampires, because they fascinate me - the whole living on others’ life force thing - but damn, have they been done to death lately in popular fiction!

 LT:   What scares you?

NK:  Spiders. I live in a country FULL of the sods. And I’m not talking piddly little inch-wide things, I’m talking things that can swallow a small BIRD. I have a lot of trouble sharing a room with any spider wider than my foot. I try not to be such a wussbag, and think of huntsman spiders, for example, as puppies with twice the number of legs… but no go. They still give me the heebies. *shudder*

LT:   What makes you laugh?

NK:  Just about everything. There’s ridiculousness everywhere, in the best and worst situations. Although it gets just a little silly when I’m laughing at my own joke and everyone else is shaking their heads… and I realise just how ridiculous I look and laugh even harder…

Spiders don’t make me laugh, though.

LT:   Have you read something recently that left a big impression, either good or bad?

NK:  Honestly? No. Not a thing. I’ve read some good books, and some bad books, and some mediocre, but I’m going through a bit of a ‘meh’ stage. Nothing’s making me jump up and down and yell, “OMG that’s AMAZING!” or “I want to KILL this author!!”

LT:    Do you have any projects in the works you’d like to tell us about?

NK:  My favourite project at the moment - shaping up to be novel-sized! - is about two Christian teens in country Australia. Sounds incredibly yawn-worthy, doesn’t it? But they’re questioning christianity, what they’re learning in church, and most of all, sex. Maisy is working out that she likes it, and Mark is wondering if he’s gay. There isn’t a specific moral I’m aiming at, just a bit of honesty in what’s really happening and how people are dealing. Want an excerpt?

When Mark first saw me, I made the kind of impression that good little Christian gals like me dream of. Quiet, modest, caring and helpful.
“No you can’t have my fucking bag, you arsehole!” I yelled as I kicked a surprised bagsnatcher-wannabe in the shin, then followed it up with an elbow in his face.
“FUCK!” I screamed, as his cheekbone made direct contact with my funny bone and sent a wave of agony up my arm.

See what I mean? I can see me being popular in church if it ever hits the bigtime.

 
LT:   What is the one thing that keps you inspired to write?

NK:  Knowing that someone is getting a laugh out of what I write. I never managed to write much when I just stuck it in a notebook or a word processor file and tried to build up a story. As soon as I started posting my work _straight_ to the internet, though, my inspiration skyrocketed. It became a lot more FUN. And if it ever stops being fun, I’ll probably stop writing fiction. If I’m going to be bored out of my mind while writing, I might as well just keep writing manuals (my paid job).

 
LT:   What do you read in your spare time?

NK:  Sci fi and fantasy, mostly. My job’s far too brain-strainy for my liking, so after work I like to relax with something easy. I’m a huge fan of Piers Anthony’s Xanth series - it’s pulpy and punny and kinda lame in places, therefore great for someone who doesn’t want to think.

LT:   Is there anything you’d like to add?

NK:  Ummmm… oh hell, that’s an open-ended question! I guess the one thing I’d like to say is that everything I write is probably going to be a complete disappointment if you expect the same as the previous ebook. Consistency is NOT a strong point, with me. But I hope it’ll always make you laugh, and maybe make you think. But mostly laugh.

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©2010 Lori Titus