Copyright © Em Woods, Silvia Violet, Havan Fellows, Hank Edwards, Lee Brazil, Angel Martinez 2013. All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing. 'Chantilly Lace' by Em Woods The lights were too bright. The restaurant was too busy. The room felt like a damn sauna. And life could suck. Shea Laporte knew that better than most. Here he sat, on the two-week anniversary of his break-up with his previous lover and said lover’s bank account, on a blind date from hell. He sighed and wiped the spilled coffee from his arm. It was a good thing he had rolled his sleeves up or he would have been seriously angry. The sloppy Joe—what was his name?—across from him, trying to slide his way into Shea’s bed, couldn’t keep from talking about himself. To top it off, the idiot had managed to knock over Shea’s drink. If he had not been filthy rich, Shea would have been long gone. But Shea had suffered a lot worse than a bad date for the kind of comfort a man like this could provide. Recently, in fact. “When are we going to fuck?” The question caught him off guard. Shea blinked his way back to the present. “Excuse me?” The man across from him leant back in his seat, his pale blue shirt stretching dangerously tight at the buttons over his round belly. He twisted his chubby fingers together and rested the whole meaty lot behind his head, revealing the sweat stains under his arms. “I wanna get dirty. How long are you going to hold out?” Shea allowed one carefully manicured eyebrow to drift up. “Who do you think you’re having dinner with?” “A whore.” His date leered for a split second before a spit-slick tongue ran over dry, cracked lips. “A high-dollar one, but still a whore. When are we gonna get to the fucking?” “That’s right. A high-dollar whore.” Taking his time to gather his thoughts, Shea harnessed his anger. He had cultivated that image carefully—buying only the finest things with his lovers’ money, preening under the attention of the wealthiest man in the room—so he could hardly complain when confronted with it, now, could he? “A high-dollar whore, in fact, who requires certain things, an agreement, a contract of obligations, if you understand. 'Rush Around the Clock' by Silvia Violet Finn McMurphy sat on his front porch grading an abysmal set of essays written by his music appreciation students. Some of them didn’t seem capable of writing a complete sentence despite having made it to eighth grade in an elite private school. He sighed and gazed out at his sunny yard. Daffodils, irises and his two lilac bushes were blooming, and he wished he could enjoy the beautiful spring weather. He’d thought working on the porch would at least make him feel as if he were taking part in the season rather than ignoring the beauty around him to grade homework. Perhaps the spring air would even help him psych himself up for rehearsals for the musical his principal had asked him to put together at the last minute. He’d wanted to say no, to explain how busy he already was, but he knew the man was looking for any excuse to get rid of him. The principal detested that Finn was openly gay. He didn’t want him influencing students with his wicked ways, but the school’s board members weren’t willing to back the principal in getting rid of Finn without just cause. Not because they were concerned about Finn’s feelings or his right to a job no matter his sexual orientation—the board just didn’t want to deal with a scandal. On the whole, the parents at Langston Academy weren’t as liberal as the average Asheville citizens, but there were plenty of families who’d raise a fuss on Finn’s behalf, thank goodness. Finn sighed. He was going to make the musical work even if it killed him. He wasn’t about to let that smug blowhard of a principal have anything to hold over him, but it meant working even harder
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