It's October and I'm celebrating by giving you all a free short! Gwen and Mel are thrown together again, so naturally they bicker and then everything goes to hell.
Despite how things went last time Gwen helped Mel on a case, she gives into the bribe he offers and agrees to let him drag her through miles of gravestones and gobs of mud on a freezing, stormy night. It's not for nothing, at least: Mel's been hired by a rich couple to locate their stubborn kid and drag him home, even if he kicks and screams the whole way. Mel's a werewolf, after all; he can handle a steel-toe to the gut if it comes to that. It's only after Gwen's fingers are numb and her patience is strained that she realizes Mel may not be the only dangerous creature out there among the tombstones.
A cemetery, a necromancer, and the promise of a boatload of cupcakes: Gwen Arthur's about to have a very interesting Halloween.
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I have four cats, though it can currently be considered that I have eight cats. My roommate has four and my four obviously still live with us, so there we go: eight cats and me, often home alone because my roommate has a swinging social life and I’m ugly. The upside to cats is that, regardless of what people say about them, you can get some real loving, snuggly cats who notice when you feel bad and want to make things better.
If you want a cat like this, the best path is to go to a shelter and specifically ask for a cat who’s over age five. Cats are basically adults once they hit five and that’s when they start to get snuggly and lovey. My oldest girl cat wanted nothing to do with cuddles or love until she hit about six and then she couldn’t get enough. She wanted to be in my face at all times, she loved giving kisses (bashing her face against mine) and, oddly, loved to be spanked.
I don’t think it means the same to me as it did to her, but she still seemed happy to have the sides of…
So you want to get fit. Good for you! It’s extra admirable to want to get fit when you know it will never be appreciated by anyone else. Sure, fit bloggers and weight-loss gurus talk about how you should really make these life choices for yourself, but those of us who can be certain no one finds us attractive know that’s bullshit. We know normal people get fit because they feel they’re not getting enough sex and they know shedding ten or twenty pounds will exponentially increase the amount of times they’re staring at the ceiling screaming, “oh god yes,” while someone goes downtown.
It’s not hard to want to better yourself when you can be reasonably certain that looking better will be met with even more praise than you already get on a daily basis, come on.
Those of us who are pariahs and underprivileged in the ways of companionship know the real test is fighting forward in getting fit despite knowing that we will still be viewed as no more enticing than a half-rotten human finger stic…