http://www.gamezebo.com/news/2010/08/30/clockwork-man-steampunk-goes-casual

If you spend 10 dollars or less on any DNBS product from our store or CD Baby, we’ll send you a 2 dollar coupon for the Clockwork Man 2 Ultimate Edition (normally 19.99).  If you spend more than 10 dollars, then we’ll give you a coupon for 5 dollars off.

This deal is straight from their site, supporting the developers of the game.  Help out artists today by getting your cog on. 

Check out the game here: www.theclockworkman2.com

 Offer ends August 31^st!  Don’t wait!!!

I played a couple weeks of Lord of the Rings Online, Champions Online and Age of Conan before going back to Star Trek Online.  The reason I gave it another try was their silly store where you can buy stuff for your characters.  I picked up a Liberated Borg Officer and went crazy.  In fact, in one month I went all through three ranks and just last night, hit Rear Admiral.

For those who don’t know anything about this game, the leveling system is not entirely traditional.  You pick one of three careers (Engineer, Tactical or Science officer) and you start out as an Ensign.  The tutorial takes you through to Lieutenant and then you have to play for a while before you’re eligible for the next ‘tier’. 

It works like this: you acquire skill points that you spend on any skill on your sheet.  You have a certain number of skill points you have to spend to get to the next rank.  Each rank has eleven grades—these are sort of micro-dings to give you a chance to see the improvement and it also grants you rewards at these grades.  (It helps determine what quest you’re the proper level to try too since they’re numbered as say Lieutenant Commander 4).

These tiers where you change rank are fairly dramatic.  New ships, new bridge officers, access to better technology… my current ship is a beast with far more weapons than I anticipated and more spaces for bridge officers.  I haven’t been in a battle yet but based on how my last ship did, this one will tear through the opposition.

Missions in the game can be fun but they are still repetitive.  For me, I’m in it for the characters—to watch all of them grow, not just your primary PC.  It’s awesome that they made it possible to solo in the game through the use of crewmen from your ship.  Building them up and managing multiple careers is a lot of fun.  I don’t know why I’d start a new character to be honest… but keeping my current one has been amazing.

They just put out a free expansion that added a bunch of stuff.  Diplomacy missions have hit the scene (until now, you’ve done a LOT of ass kicking and less talking—which seems more Buck Rogers and less Captain Picard).  Last night I got an accolade (achievement) for killing 200 Orion Pirates… and considering I’ve picked that up for Klingons, Romulans, Cardasians and Gorn, I personally have destroyed more vessels than were taken out in every Star Trek series combined. 

I don’t know how these diplomacy missions work yet—I am on my way to them when next I play but they have some neat rewards.

Overall, I would rate the game a lot higher than it has been by reviewers.  I can’t refute much of what they say but I can say that I’ve had a blast with it despite what they say.  Look out for a trial and give it a shot.  I don’t think you’d be disappointed.

In no particular order:

Johnny Depp (Ed Wood then Ninth Gate then Sleepy Hollow… pretty much everything after)

Christian Bale (American Psycho… Batman… Prestige… Reign of Fire…)

Gerard Butler (Dracula 2000 surprisingly, Phantom of the Opera and everything after)

Leonardo DiCaprio (Catch me if you Can, Blood Diamond)

Ewan McGregor (Trainspotting, Serpent’s Kiss and Stay)

George Clooney (Dusk til Dawn and Out of Sight)

Johnny Lee Miller (Trainspotting, Plunkett & MacLean)

Adrien Brody (The Pianist sold me but Jesus Christ, he rocked in Predators)

Ioan Gruffudd (Horatio Hornblower… the whole series)

Kenneth Branaugh (Henry V, Much Ado, Dead Again)

Informants, Murder and a Fae

–A Journal Entry by Algiers Stanton

            “God damn it, Algiers is back,” Andy shouted the message as he rushed across the empty dance floor toward the bar.  He ran bonelike fingers through unwashed hair, casting a look over his shoulders.  “What the hell are we gonna do?”

            “Shit,” The barkeep was Wally, a fat cowardly asshole with enough complexes to make a basket case cat lady look like a nubile prom queen.  The nervous habits he fostered were nothing short of comedy depending on how much I had to deal with them.  “I don’t know but we gotta get rid of him.  My balls were in a sling after the last time he rolled in.  God damn incubus.”

            “Yeah,” Andy grimaced as he mounted a stool.  One might think these two idiots were lovers the way they carried on or at least brothers.  Point of fact they barely knew each other.  They were friends in that ‘talk about anything that’s not personal’ way and as a result, could probably count on each other about as much as a guy might count on a rubber ducky to take him safely across the Atlantic.  “That was a really bad experience.”

            “Was it?” I stepped into the room and held the door with my foot, pausing for dramatic effect.  It’s really too bad that I can hear so well.  I might not have been so ready to give them shit had I walked in unawares.  Sadly, for them, they’re just too much fun to tease.  “And here I thought we had something memorable… something pleasant.  Ah well, there’s always next time.”

            “Go to hell, Stanton,” Wally shot back at me with just enough bravado to convince Andy he wasn’t afraid.  “That tip was good.  I know it.  I heard that you took down that blood sacrifice racket no problem.  Don’t come in here and toss out threats.  We don’t deserve that shit.”

            “Relax, relax,” My motions were liquid grace; a cat peering at two unsuspecting mice that nibbled their cheese with a special kind of casual ignorance.  They really had no idea just how scary I could be.  “I’m not here to play, but I am here to see what you guys can tell me about that slaughterhouse the cops turned over downtown.”

            “Why the hell would we know anything about that?” Andy turned and looked at me with those piss yellow eyes of his, silently pleading for me to go.  That hidden message elicited my most predatory of smiles as I took the seat just to his right.  The rest of his reply was stammered. “We…we just… hang out h-h-here all day, man.  N-n-nothin’ really ta tell.”

            “He’s right, Algiers,” Wally shrugged his beefy shoulders and started polishing a glass.  “Ain’t heard about no slaughterhouse… why?  You guys let one of your loonies out on the street?  Should I close early tonight?”

            “Wally, look around this place,” I gestured. “If the health board came in here, they’d put your ass up for crimes against humanity.  Close early?  I’m not even sure you should open at all… but commentary on cleanliness aside, I know you guys have heard something, and as you said before you really should give me what I want.  The alternative might be a little worse than a sling and a couple of boo-boos.”

            “Jesus man,” Wally shook his head and put the glass down.  He cast a wary-gaze about the room as if someone were there to listen to him.  Somehow I refrained from rolling my eyes.  “Alright… you know Melvin?”

            “Not the mouse,” I prayed that he didn’t mean that Melvin but really, how many mothers hated their kids enough to name them that?  “Please not him.”

            “Yeah, him.” Wally nodded, maintaining that grim expression.  “He came in here talkin’ all kinds of shit about some shifter that went nuts downtown.  Tore up a couple of people and dragged em off.  Maybe he knows somethin’.  It’d be a start.”

            “Great,” I brushed a hand through my hair–not long, not short; that happy medium that lends to whatever style, I wanted to try.  “You guys hear anything else, call me.  I need concrete info.  Not second-hand shit.”

            “Whatever, Stanton,” Wally scoffed and leaned on the bar. “What the hell do we get out of this ‘relationship’ we have with you anyway?”

            “Interesting way to phrase that, Wally,” My brows lifted curiously.  “I mean, I thought you guys were just a couple of informants that I could rely on, but if we’re going to start calling this a relationship then maybe we can get something more out of this.  Want to step in the back room?”

            “Whoa there, man,” Wally’s hands lifted defensively and Andy moved off his seat, slinking away.  “Just… we’ll call, alright? Don’t… you know, don’t turn it on.”

            “You mean I shouldn’t turn you on, right?” I couldn’t resist.  Playing with them was too easy; too much fun.

            “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.” Wally was flush as a spring sow but much as I loved his discomfort, I didn’t have the time to appreciate it. 

            “See you guys around,” I got up from the bar and tossed a fifty down.  “Another fifty if you get me a solid lead.”

            I heard a meaty hand grab the cash before I was five steps away.  They were nothing if not predictable.  Loyalty in my business had become a commodity that one could buy.  The currency depended mostly on the subject.  Some people wanted money acquire but the ones that I found to be the most interesting were those willing to accept rapture in return for some offered service.

            The commodity of sexual pleasure has been around since someone first got the idea that touching their private parts felt good.  When that got old, they looked around for something else to push it against.  I don’t want to make it too base or simplistic sounding because it really isn’t but the bottom line is that most people, most creatures don’t get past the point of bliss.  They forget what a mutual thing the physical act of sex can be.

            At the risk of tooting my own horn as they say, the things that I can do to a person (man or woman) are breathtaking.  Anywhere from a delightful little shiver in a candlelit room to six weeks in a sling (repression can be dangerous) the incubus is a carnal virtuoso.  It makes my job a hell of a lot easier that’s for damn sure.

            Rain came down in tight torrents.  The drops were tiny but the wind ensured that even the most skillful umbrella work wouldn’t keep one dry.  I drew my black trench coat tightly about me and took a moment to survey the distance between that dive of a club and my car. 

            It was a quiet night.  No extraneous traffic and no people walking the streets.  Weather didn’t usually hold people back from enjoying the night life but there was something special about tonight.  The police were particularly adamant about closing off the best parts of downtown clubbing due to the little issue of a reported body in a vacant building.

            God only knows what their forensics would’ve found had we not been able to intervene.  The media were going to be all over the situation like flies on shit.  Damage control had to be earning its pay.  Some of the older bureaucrats wasted time bemoaning the technology of the modern day and how it could undermine our ability to cover up mistakes.

            Eh, whatever.  They would’ve complained regardless of where the world was technologically.  I personally liked my TV too much to want to give it up on the off chance that some jack ass might happen to be in the neighborhood with a camcorder.  All the times that people got a hold of ‘irrefutable proof’ of the supernatural we managed to suppress it.  I could never figure out why anyone assumed we’d screw up eventually. 

            We owned the television networks after all.  What was there to worry about?

            I drove back to the office wondering if our counterparts in Field Ops managed to get their hands on the police records yet.  Waiting around for that crap was unacceptable, and I swear that they only forced us to do so when they wanted to offer a lesson in patience. 

            My partner and I worked out of a small place uptown in what I liked to call an ‘affluent area’.  I chose the venue because I owned a nice car and didn’t want it tampered with or stolen.  The place was centrally located, nice enough on the outside and downright exquisite on the inside.  Reputation means so very much and for just a few dollars more, I got a great view of a small lake.  Win-win.

            “Hey, Ophelia—” I stepped into the office and paused, blinking at my partner.  Her feet were propped against the edge of the desk, knees parted.  Leather pants clung to those perfectly shaped legs all the way up to a spiky belt.  The top was a white blouse only buttoned between her breasts, offering a magnificent view of stomach and cleavage.  My eyes crawled up from heeled boot clad feet to short, shaggy cut blond hair.

            Ophelia’s tongue caressed a spoon with all the teasing adoration a lover might impart.   Lidded eyes held a hint of pleasure that I was most accustomed to seeing when I touched a person’s life force; sexual… primal… starving.  Her lips were stained red from the fruit preserves, she so carefully cleaned from the stiff metal utensil.  My God she got me going sometimes.

            “Lunch?” I cleared my throat to fend off the desire filling my tone.  “Or entertainment?”

            Ophelia opened her eyes and looked directly at my penis pressing against my slacks.  “One for me,” She licked her lips in a teasing, seductive way that has made women famous for generations.  “And one for you.”

            “What’s that mean?” I moved over and sat down in my chair, moodily staring down at the paperwork littering the surface of my desk.  “You don’t have to be so cryptic.”

            “You were entertained… I was satiated,” Ophelia tossed the spoon down and put her hands behind her head, leaning back so she could look up at the ceiling.  “I’m bored, Algie.  Really bored.  When’re we going to go out and solve this crime?”

            “God damn it, girl,” The sigh escaped my lips before I could even stop it. “I’ve asked you a dozen times could you please stop calling me Algie?  It reminds me of pond scum or some shit.”

            “No,” Ophelia replied with a happy lilt to her voice.  “I like it.  It’s shorter and easier to remember.”

            “Shorter?” I shook my head, trying desperately to not become flabbergasted.  “Easier to remember?  What are you, a goldfish?  ’Algiers’ has two syllables.  You practically say it exactly the same!”

            “Whatever,” Ophelia tossed back.  “Files came.  Check the ‘in box’.”

            I leaned over and grabbed out the thick folder and set it down, watching my partner for a long moment.  “Did you look through these?”

            “Why would I?” She asked with a casual shrug of shoulders.

            “Um… because you want to solve this crime?” I shot back irritably.  Ophelia knew how to push my buttons and while her casual indifference might make it seem like she had no clue she was doing it, I knew better.  “Because it’s part of your job?  I don’t know… because you were so bored?  Where’re your ethics?”

            “I know how shifters kill,” Ophelia answered and sat up, feet slapping the floor.  “This definitely sounds like one of them.  Torn a part… several pieces chewed up or entirely gone… I dunno about you but I’d really hope it’s a shifter of some kind because then, at least we’ll be the ones to stop it.”

            “You…” I blinked at her, leaning back in my chair.  “I hadn’t thought about a human doing this.”

            “Why?” Ophelia’s head tilted.  “Because they’re just too pure for this kind of thing?”

            “I guess I just got too caught up in what we do,” I flipped open the file and frowned down at the picture.  The victim was found in a vacant office building mangled so badly they’d require all kinds of clever methods to identify the body.  Somehow, the head had been mostly squished and all the soft spots had been torn out (stomach, throat, groin, etc.).  “I guess they could’ve brought a dog along with them.”

            “If they were so inclined,” Ophelia stood up and went to the fridge.  Whatever she wanted was on the bottom shelf and when she bent over, I was treated to the most delectable view of her ass… God damn that woman.  “And they do remember stuff you know.”

            “Huh?” The shots out of left field tonight were coming fast and furious.  “Who remembers stuff?”

            “Goldfish,” Ophelia returned with a bottle of water.  “Or at least, they have conditioned response.  That’s pretty much like memory.”

            “My Lord,” I stared at her for a long moment then simply shook my head.  “Whatever, let’s get back to it.  Those snitches I told you about said Melvin the Mouse witnessed some shifter related murders.”

            “Oh, ew,” Ophelia wrinkled her nose.  “I don’t like that guy.  Does that mean we have to go into the sewer again?”

“Maybe,” I sympathized.  There was no way that I wanted to go down there either.  “It’s the only lead I could turn up on such a short notice.  We could check out the crime scene if you’re ready.  See what vibe we can pick up?”

            “Sure,” Ophelia practically skipped over and pulled down her leather jacket, sliding it on.  “You don’t think I look too trampy to be an agent, do you?”

            “You look like you hopped out of the Matrix,” I opened the door for her.  “Which really doesn’t help our cause a whole lot.  Better hope the cops aren’t there.”

            “Eh, if they are,” Ophelia paused close to me, wiggling her fingers.  “I’ll put a whammy on them, so I look more Scully, less Trinity.”

            “Isn’t that against Fae code?” I asked, following her toward the car. “Use magic for something useful?”

“That’s the beauty of our ‘code’ as you put it,” Ophelia got to the car and smiled over the roof at me.  “It changes according to need.”

            There were times when Ophelia’s allure was almost strong enough to overwhelm my sense of self-preservation.  As an honest-to-God Fairy, she had powers the likes of which I didn’t even pretend to understand.  We had a lot in common until you got into the whole ‘magic’ thing.  However, the true crime of it all; the serious shame; the thorn in my ass… Fae essence was nothing like that of a human’s.

This is not to say that it’s the difference between a pizza and broccoli.  Hell, I wish it was something to do with taste.  When I consume a human’s energy, it’s exciting, fulfilling, like the sort of satisfaction one might enjoy after the perfect date.  I feel most like an artist after I’ve had my way with a human.

            Trying that with a fae was sort of like downing a full bottle of Everclear on an empty stomach.  An incubus would be fortunate to escape the experience with sickness and a bad hangover.  The resulting inebriation could last forever, or only a couple of nights; it’s hard to predict and sometimes the effects could be far worse.  Physical damage is not entirely unheard of. 

            And yeah, Ophelia knew all of that.

            The two of us worked for an organization called the Society of Metaphysics or just ‘The Society’ in most circles.  The outside perspective was that humans ran the place to study the realm of the supernatural; ghosts, psychic phenomena, and just about anything else shown in an X Files episode.  Our front provides us with the means to operate in ‘broad daylight’ for the most part.

This Society has existed for a long time.  The core structure has been carefully shrouded in shadows; a place to look out for all the strange crap that lurks under the noses of humanity while feeding on them to various extents.  Unfortunately, some of our appetites are impossible to quell without a bloody death. That’s where we come in.

            Investigators for the Society track down perpetrators of different crimes and bring them before a Tribunal.  It could be as simple as some wizard cast a spell in the middle of the street in front of a crowd of normals or as horrifying as someone being torn apart in an office one Saturday night.  Regardless, we were employed to maintain the secrecy.

            Shifters likely have the worst time with food.  For example, a vampire could learn to take less blood from a victim, and unless I’m feeling particularly evil, all the people I feed on would gladly go for another ride. When the method of preying on humanity involves actually consuming them, it becomes difficult to hush up.

            If that isn’t bad enough, Shifters fall into two categories: infectious and natural.  The latter are born with their ‘gifts’ and manifest them later in life.  The conditional ability to shift one’s shape can only be transmitted by an infectious beast.  A natural could drool on you all day without anything more than a whole lot of ‘ew’ coming into play.  When they have kids the parents better not mind cleaning hair out of the bathtub drain all the time.

            Prior to the communications field evolving into what it is today, infectious shifters could turn an entire community and live like the lord of a pack indefinitely.  They tended to roam around a specific area, hunting game and whoever had the misfortune of showing up in their little part of the world.  Such acts against humanity have been long since made illegal by the Society but that decision really screwed infectious shifters.

We have entire hospital wings dedicated to keeping infectious shifters in a state of chemical lobotomy.  They live under the guise of severely disturbed mental patients but as messed up as that sounds, a shifter infestation can spread fast.  A single shifter walking down the street in one night could bite a whole lot of people and every single one of them would change.

            “Are we there yet?” Ophelia’s complaint brought me out of my reverie, and I looked around.       

            “Almost,” I muttered, checking the time.  It was just after ten thirty in the evening.  The rain hadn’t let up and the streets were that glistening black that seemed to absorb headlights rather than reflect them.  “Hmm, I don’t see any cop cars but is that who I think it is?”

            I directed Ophelia’s attention to a dark blue Mercedes parked directly in front of the building we were approaching.  It was one that I’d seen at the Society’s headquarters more and more often lately.

            “Ew,” Ophelia’s nose wrinkled in distaste.  “That’s that weird lady… she doesn’t set right with me.  Madelyn right?”

            “Yeah, shit,” I let out a sigh as I parked.  “If she’s in there, I’ll do the talking but we both know why she’s here.”

            “To say that our unethical treatment of shifters has pushed them to this act of desperation,” Ophelia patted me on the shoulder.  “Just because I don’t like to read doesn’t mean I ignore all the reports.”

            “I didn’t say anything of the sort,” I looked past her out the window at the door into the building.  “This is a PR thing as much as it is an investigation.  At least, it is when it comes to insane activists vying for policy change, right?”

            “You know this girl,” Ophelia’s eyes met mine, and I scowled at her.  I hated it when she got all ESP on me.  “I’ve been hanging around with you for a long time now, but it never occurred to me that you touched her that way.”

            “You make it sound dirty,” I couldn’t quite inject indignation into my tone; not without feeling like a complete and total hypocrite.  “Yeah, I’ve touched her before.  A long time ago.  Before she got all ‘save the whales’ or at least, to the extent she is today.”

            “I like whales,” Ophelia opened the door.  “Maybe it’s the whole ‘don’t eat people alive’ thing, they’ve got going on.  Call me biased.  Shifters are dangerous… not just to themselves.  To all of us.”

            “Preaching to the choir, babe,” I locked up the car and walked up to the door, peering inside.  “Hey, anyone in here?  Detectives entering.”

            “Algiers Stanton,” I heard the voice before I saw her; a shapely form near the back of the room. A silhouette of violin curves in a posture of sass.  “I should’ve known that they’d put you on this case.”

            “They want it solved, they come to me,” I replied, directing my attention to the blood stain on the ground.  The body had been removed to the morgue a few hours before.  “I thought this place would’ve been cordoned off with at least a couple policemen on hand.  I don’t suppose that you know what happened to the security?”

            “One of your colleagues pulled some strings,” Madelyn stepped forward into the light, tossing her dark hair off her shoulder.  “I thought I’d take advantage of the absence and look around.  It’s not often that there’s a highly public shifter killing in the city, and I wanted to make sure you guys don’t immediately make assumptions that jeopardize relations with the shifter community.”

            “Why not just say ‘our’ community?” I asked.  “Even if I didn’t already know you, voluntary registration is available to any field agent that asks.  Any of your tree hugging friends know about that?”

            “Of course they know I’m registered,” Madelyn lifted her thin shoulders in a shrug, turning her attention to the floor.  “Why do you think they trust me?”

            “It’s not your charm,” Ophelia moved over and crouched in front of the blood, staring down.  “And it’s not your smarts.  The only thing left is that you’re a shifter.  They probably complain about the smell of human on you though… sort of like a person coming back smelling like hamburgers from a fast food job, right?”

            “Ophelia,” Madelyn said the name as if it were a curse.  “Polite as ever.  I don’t suppose you’d like to explain why you’re so dead set against our kind.”

            “Not sure,” Ophelia continued to study the blood splatter as she spoke, eyes following the pattern thoughtfully.  “Maybe, just maybe it’s the fact that your kind considered hunting Fae for sport fun a couple hundred years ago but hey, I could say that’s water under the bridge now, right?  Perhaps it’s because a lot of you shifters tend to eat innocent people while they’re still alive so you can enjoy their pain.  I dunno…” She finally stood up.  “Maybe I just think you’re a self serving bitch using the problems of your people to grandstand for attention and a spotlight.  But hey, who’m I?  Just another Fae.  Don’t mind me.  I’ll be outside.”

            I watched Ophelia walk out and shrugged at Madelyn.  “You had to ask.”

            “I don’t know how you work with that woman, Algiers,” Madelyn shook her head. “I hope you’re going to be objective on this case.  The entire shifter community shouldn’t have to pay for the crimes of one renegade.”

            “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” I clasped my hands behind my back.  “We’re not here to place blame.  We just need to find the guy, who did this before they do it again.  Now, not to put too fine a point on it, but you are contaminating this crime scene; more than it already has been.  Could you take off?  I don’t want to have to bust you.”

            “Like you busted me last time?” Madelyn took a step toward me with that catlike allure she maintained even in human form.  I grinned at her efforts.  “Maybe I’d like that.”

            “I’m sure you would,” I met her half-way and ran the backs of my fingers along her cheek.  “It’s been too long but neither of us has time for this now.  Work first, play later.  You know that mantra.  I’m not sure where I got my ethics, but they’re screaming at me right now to get you out of here.”

            “You’re right,” Madelyn took one last look over the blood stain and started for the door.  “Besides, your partner finds this a grossly inappropriate place to do anything more than investigate… this crime I mean.”

            “I’ve done things in less appropriate places,” I watched her move toward the door.  “I might call you with some questions if I don’t find everything I expect here.  You still at the same number?”

            “Of course,” Madelyn paused and winked at me.  “I look forward to hearing from you.”

            And then she was gone.

            “What a slut,” Ophelia’s voice made me jump, and I turned a scowl to her.  “Seriously.  Coming on to you like that when you’re trying to work.  Distracting, annoying woman.”

            “Jesus Christ,” I tried to keep my voice low.  Showing Ophelia that she got to me was like putting ketchup on my throat and exposing it to a pit bull.  “I thought you walked outside.”

            “Glamour, baby,” Ophelia’s brows waggled once, and she folded her arms over her chest.  “I didn’t want to talk to her anymore, but we’re far from done in here.  You think she knows something?”

            “Yeah, but I think we interrupted her before she could get everything she wanted,” I looked around the room again and walked over to the door that Madelyn came from.  “You have any insights?’

            “The integrity of these splatter patterns has been damaged,” Ophelia gestured.  “There’re tracks through the blood, and I suspect that they happened after the body was moved.  They walked right down the middle.”

            “The cops?” I wondered.

            “Maybe,” Ophelia shrugged. “They’ve been that careless before in these cases.”

            “Yeah,” I pointed to some tears in the carpet; three jagged lines side by side.  “What do you think?”

            “They look like claw marks,” Ophelia answered with an unconvinced tone.  “Seriously, why the hell would the shifter have scratched the floor?  Wouldn’t there be a lot more of those if the victim was struggling?”

            “Sure,” I moved just to the edge of the blood stains and crouched down for a better look.  “Blood didn’t pool in each mark and this is all dried.  I’d say it happened after the body was removed.”

            “Think it was your girlfriend?” Ophelia turned to look out the door as if hoping that Madelyn was still around.  “I’d love to arrest her for tampering with the scene.”

            “No, I can say for a fact that these are too big for her claws… and the spread is larger than her hand even when she’s shifted,” I cleared my throat in hopes that it would punctuate the conversation.  I wasn’t so lucky.

            “How do you know for a ‘fact’ that those are too big?” Ophelia asked.  “You’re not telling me she—”

            “Hey, some things, you really don’t want to know,” I stood up and let out a sigh.  “Okay, even if it wasn’t a shifter, someone wants us to believe it was.  We should get down to the morgue and see if they’ve learned anything from the remains.  If this is a police matter, we can just have one of our people explain away those marks, and if it’s not—”

            “We need to find out precisely what did this, so we know which haunts to turn over,” Ophelia finished for me with a smile, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  “Let’s go!  I’m bored.”

            “Oh, by all means.  We wouldn’t want to leave you in such a tragic state,” I rolled my eyes.  “Were you a gnat in a previous life?”

            “No, a lemur,” Ophelia dead panned, getting into the car.  “How could you get those two confused?  Sheesh!”

            “I…” I lost my capacity for rational thought.  The warmth of the car gave me a refuge from Ophelia’s disturbed logic but even with her distraction, I couldn’t help but worry about what we might find.  If someone was trying to set up a shifter to take the fall for a crime someone or something else committed then political agendas would be involved: a mess far bigger than that poor bastard made on the office floor back there. 

            Great.  Uncovering a huge conspiracy was my favorite way to spend a Saturday evening.  I might have been overreacting, but I couldn’t shake the thought that this had to be more than a simple killing; something more than even a crime.  This was about the secrecy of our culture: the safety of every being capable of something more than turning oxygen into carbon dioxide.  This was a classic example of why being responsible sucks. 

I really miss the old days.

I’ve started up a facebook page and a twitter account!  My user name over at Twitter is DNBS.  For Facebook, I just went with my name: Robert Hazelton.  Feel free to add me and I’ll return the favor. 

DNBS is currently working on a new project.  Accoutrements & Oddities is available both as a digital CD and a physical one.  You can buy it on iTunes, Amazon, our site and a bunch of other places.  Just take a look around.  We’ve also been on the charts for 6 weeks over at www.topchoons.com.  Please hop over and vote for us!

Glass Moonlight is about to get some exposure.  I’m still working to find some or an artist to do work on a graphic novel.  Once that’s established, I’m going to start writing the sequel in earnest.  Overall, things are bright for the future of the story.  I look forward to the next plot.

That’s my current update!  Thanks for stopping by.

Click here to check it out!  They are selling it for 9.99 so it would do Total Eclipse more good if you’d buy it from their site instead.