View Full Version : Name That Scene 8/10/2008

08-10-2008, 02:59 PM
Okay ladies - here is the NTS for the 10th. Enjoy!!

The air was cool enough to make me shiver as I walked down the sidewalk to my door. I could hear the phone ringing as I fumbled the key into the lock. I hit the door with my shoulder, because no one ever calls just before dawn unless it's important. For me that usually meant the police, which meant a murder scene. I kicked the door closed and ran for the phone in the kitchen. My answering machine had kicked on. My voice died on the machine and E's voice came on.

"A, it's E. If you're there pick up." Silence.

I was running full out and skidded on my high heels, grabbing the receiver as I slid into the wall and nearly dropped the phone. I yelled into the receiver as I juggled the phone, "E, E, it's me. I'm here." E was laughing softly when I could finally hear him.

"Glad I could be amusing. What's up?" I asked.

"I'm calling in my favor," he said quietly.

It was my turn for silence. Once upon a time E had come to my aid, been my back-up. He'd brought a friend, Harley, with him as more back-up. I'd ended up killing Harley. Now, Harley had tried to kill me first, and I'd just been quicker, but E had taken the killing personally. Picky, picky. E had given me a choice either he and I could draw down on each other and find out once and for all which of us was better, or I could owe him a favor. Some day he would call me up and ask for me to be his back-up like Harley. I'd agreed to the favor. I never wanted to come up against E for real. Because if I did I was pretty sure I'd end up dead.

E was a hitman. He specialized in monsters. Vampires, shapeshifters, anything and everything. There were people like me that did it legal, but E didn't sweat the legalities, or hell, the ethics. He even occasionally did a human, but only if they had some sort of dangerous reputation. Other assassins, criminals, bad men, or women. E was an equal opportunity killer, he never discriminated, not for sex, religion, race, or even species. If it was dangerous E would hunt it and kill it. It's what he lived for, what he was. He was a predator's predator.

He'd been offered a contract on my life once. He'd turned it down and had come to town as my bodyguard, bringing Harley with him. I'd asked him, why he hadn't taken the contract. His answer had been simple. If he took the contract he only got to kill me. If he protected me he thought he'd get to kill more people. Perfect E reasoning.

He's either a sociopath or so close it makes little difference. I may be one of the few friends that E has but it's like being friends with a tame leopard. It may curl on the foot of your bed and let you pet it's head, but it can still eat your throat out. It just won't do it tonight.

"A, you still there?"

"I'm here, E."

"You don't sound happy to hear from me."

I wanted to ask him, what does change? How does it feel to dead? I knew other vampires, but Willie was the first I had known before and after death. It was a peculiar feeling. "What do you want?"

"Let's just say I'm cautious," I said.

He laughed again. "Cautious, no you're not cautious, you're suspicious."

"Yeah," I said. "So what's the favor?"

"I need back up," he said.

"What could be so terrible that Death needs back-up?"

"T F needs back-up from A B, vampire executioner."

08-10-2008, 03:06 PM
I think I know this

Obsidian Butterfly by Laurell K. Hamilton

08-10-2008, 04:01 PM
DANG IT, Alba! :skeptical:
Just so you know, I knew it from the first sentence....LOL! You would never guess that is my favorite Anita Blake novel!

WOO-HOO! Love LKH!! :smile:

08-10-2008, 04:12 PM
I would have known it was an Anita Blake but would never have been able to get the book, LOL. Great job Alba!

08-10-2008, 04:33 PM
Whoot! Ann got it in one!

So here is another one for today:

“Men: Should We or Shouldn’t We? Vegetative Deities of the Male Pantheon” okay, S-- was going to skip that chapter, the same way he’d skipped “Sacred Blood: What It Means to You - Transformative Powers of Menstruation.”

Chapter Four, “Post Orgasmic Mindstate: Getting There Is Half the Fun - Enlightenment Through Bliss” looked promising, but he wasn't putting a nickel on finding any shameless sorority-girl sex games in it.

He closed the book and turned it over in his hand, looking at the cover one more time. Talk about a marketing scam. This thing had probably been thrown against the wall in every fraternity house in America.

He had figured out why there wasn't a ring on her finger, though. Chapter Six. “Marriage: Why and Why Not? Sanctioned Oppression in Patriarchal Societies.”

He'd been married once, briefly very briefly, apparently just long enough to oppress the woman he’d loved, before she’d thrown him out on his ass.

“So what do you think?” she asked, bending over her foot where they were sitting on the bed with their backs propped against the wall with pillows. His Sig was cocked, locked and loaded. There had been some gunfire coming from the Palacio’s courtyard earlier and he was ready to rock and roll if the party started to move to the third floor. She, on the other hand, had a tiny brush in her fingers and was ready to dab a little polish on one of her toes.

Apparently, at some point during the evening, she’d chipped a nail.

He hadn't noticed, and for the love of God and everything sacred and feminine in the Universe, he didn't know how in the hell she had, either. With all the **** that had hit the fan since he’d seen her out in front of the Hotel Palacio, how in the mother-loving hell had she noticed a chip in the polish on her toenail?

It was the biggest goddamn mystery of the whole friggin’ night as far as he was concerned.

Sanctioned oppression - God that ate at him.

“It’s good. Really good,” he said. “Inspiring, actually. I'm thinking of writing a book of my own now.”

“You are?” She looked up with a warm smile, which almost instantly turned wary. Smart girl. “What kind of book?”

“I haven't thought of a title yet, but I've got the first chapter heading – Women: Should We or Shouldn't We? And How Many Should We Before We Don’t Anymore?”



“Did anybody ever write you and demand their money back?”

Her silence was answer enough.

“So what do you do? Send them a money order?”

“I don't think you actually read the text.”

“Well, I’m going to, right after I finish writing my own chapter on marriage.”

“Go ahead and tell me,” she said with a long-suffering sigh, dabbing an extra bit of lacquer on her baby toe which as far as he could see had already been adequately covered with candy-apple red polish, the whole freaking square quarter inch of it. “I can tell you've got something you’re just dying to get out.”

“’Marriage,’” he said: “’Collusion or Delusion?’”

She put the brush back in the bottle and looked up again. “Rough divorce?”

How incredibly insightful.

“She took my socks. My socks.” He still didn't understand that part. “I came back from Panama to an empty house and an empty sock drawer. So you tell me who was oppressed.”

“How long ago did this happen?”

A legitimate question, but he kind of hated how calm she was about it. He was still pissed about his divorce.

“Sixteen months and two girlfriends ago.”

“Whirlwind courtship?”

A hurricane.”

“Read Chapter Seven, ‘Hormones and Pheromones: Love or Lust? Emotional and Biological Responses to Sexual Stimuli,’ and every place it says ‘woman,’ put the word ‘man,’ and every place it says ‘man,’ put the word ‘woman.’”

“Men and women are not interchangeable.”

“Oh, pul-lease,” she said, rolling her eyes at him.

Oh, pul-lease. God, what gall.

Even worse, now that they were both on the bed, and it would be most helpful for her to be looking her sex-kittenish best, she was coming damn close to actually looking like a feminist. She was wearing his clothes, for crying out loud, men's clothes, and they were sagging and bagging and practically falling off, but not nearly falling off enough to suit him.

Biological Responses. He knew a little about biological responses. He was suffering through a biological response and it wasn't doing anything to improve his mood.

Love or Lust?

No contest, it was the lust all the way, baby. Dammit.

08-10-2008, 04:49 PM
My guess is Crazy Sweet by Tara Janzen.

08-10-2008, 06:54 PM
DANG IT, Alba! :skeptical:
Just so you know, I knew it from the first sentence....LOL! You would never guess that is my favorite Anita Blake novel!

WOO-HOO! Love LKH!! :smile:
Sorry I have a confession it is the one and only Laurell K. Hamilton book I have read I keep meaning to get & read the rest but never have.......

08-10-2008, 09:31 PM
Leiha is correct about the second post. It is Tara Janzen - Crazy Sweet.

Don't feel bad about only having read one LKH, Ann - I have never read any of them!!

08-10-2008, 09:50 PM
I would have known it was an Anita Blake but would never have been able to get the book, LOL. Great job Alba!

LOL me too Leiha I knew it was Anita Blake and Edward but the book no idea LOL.