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I HEAR VOICES CONTEST

May 4, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Answer the three questions below correctly and you are entered to win an advance copy of I Hear Voices, second place is a fired glass pendant. Third, your choice of one of my other books, Just My Luck, The Warlord’s Comeuppance or The Nasty Vamp.

What tricks does Zelda use to discourage Derek?

Find the answer at:

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13517188-i-hear-voices

Who is Freddy Crystal?

Find the answer at:

http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/261645-i-hear-voices

What did Granny Annabel warn Zelda about?

Find the answer at: www.gailkoger.com

Send your answers to gkoger58@q.com. The contest ends May 31st.

Good luck!

Gail

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Why Do I Write?

March 8, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Gee, let me think. Are you kidding? It keeps the insanity at bay. That and chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea of what a real emergency is. Take this for an example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am, but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone, I took up writing.

Sometimes chocolate isn’t enough and music stimulates my creative juices, too. Of course when you have two dogs sometimes the music isn’t enough. Last week I was sitting at my computer working on my hot, melt your panties sex scene and suddenly I hear. Cheep. Cheep. Cheep. What the…?

I looked down and there sat Sam, my demon dog, with a mouth full of feathers. So, silly me I asked him, “What’s in your mouth?” Sam barked, “Nuthin.”

Right. Does he think I’m stupid? The poor bird cheeped desperately. In my best mean mother voice I commanded, “Spit!” Sam does and the chicken, wings flapping madly and squawking pathetically took off like the Devil himself was after it.

I saved the poor chicken, cleaned up the mess, ate a box of chocolate and went back to work.

Gail Koger

coming soon: I Hear Voices

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I HEAR VOICES

February 18, 2012 By 16 Comments

I hear vOices and see dead people. No, I’m not nuts. I’m psychic. I worked for a psychic hotline called Picas Moon. My specialty was Tarot Card readings. For only $3.99 a minute you got to chat with me, a real live, genuine, authentic, certified psychic. I even had a nice little certificate hanging on the wall of my cubicle that stated that fact. Want to know the future, need to connect with the spirit world or find the love of your life? Give me your Visa or Master Card numbers and I was yours for as long as you needed me or until your money ran out. It was a nice gig.

Until Madam Celeste called me into her office on Christmas Eve and instead of getting that nice bonus check I was expecting, I was laid off. Me? I was the only genuine, authentic psychic she had. The rest of bunch was delusional quacks, flat out liars and phony, no talent hacks. Okay, the delusional quacks were Madam Celeste’s daughters, and of course, they kept their jobs. Family is family no matter how incredibly awful their advice was. I foresaw a lawsuit in their immediate future.

Since I’m a genuine, authentic psychic I should have seen it coming. Right? It doesn’t work that way. I can’t predict my future. My life is basically a crap shoot just like everyone else’s and sometimes you roll snake eyes.

On Christmas morning I got hit with more bad news. My Aunt Sophie, another authentic psychic, had tracked me down and offered me my old job back. The one where I did séances that scammed grieving relatives out of their hard earned money. I hated every minute of it.

The only reason I stayed as long as I did was to protect my grandmother from Uncle Dante, the devil incarnate. But it was Aunt Sophie, his older sister that scared the piss out of me. She dabbled in the black arts and was known to have summoned a demon or two. When Granny Annabel died I made my escape and never looked back.

What was Aunt Sophie’s ultimatum? If I wasn’t back at the family compound in Seattle by New Year’s Day, she would turn my life into a living hell. She could and she did. My family members are not the nicest people in the world. In fact, most of them are scam artists, thieves or worse.

After Aunt Sophie put the word out, finding another psychic gig was nigh-on impossible. Because of the sucky economy I couldn’t even get a job at a local burger joint. Trying to get the State of Arizona to fork over unemployment benefits was even harder. The minute I mentioned I was a psychic it was over.

Out of desperation to prove to the clerk that I really was a genuine psychic I blurted out, “Your boyfriend, Mark, is cheating on you with your best friend, Martha.” The poor thing burst into tears and fled her window.

The nice security guard escorted me to a tiny waiting room and promised a supervisor would speak to me shortly. Was that shorthand for the police were coming? I hoped not.

Bored out of my mind, I flipped through an old Arizona Highways magazine and an article about Montezuma’s gold caught my attention. Gold! I could really use some of that Aztec gold about now.

Seems back in the early fifteenth century Cortez overran the great Aztec empire. To keep the greedy bastard from taking all his loot, Montezuma packed up his gold and with a small army guarding it, sent it north into what is now the canyon country of southern Utah. There, so the legend tells, his king’s treasure is still hidden.

The story got even more interesting. In 1921, Freddy Crystal, an Indiana Jones type, showed up in Kanab, Utah and convinced the town folk that he had a four centuries old map that would lead them to the long-lost treasure. He must have given one hell of a speech to get these hard working farmers to dig for gold, because gold fever hit with a vengeance.

Kanab’s elected mayor and city council were the first all petticoat government of that time. The women decided it was plain foolishness to share the treasure with the outside world and fines were levied for even uttering the word “treasure”. The ladies organized the treasure hunt like generals commanding an army. Each morning Kanab would empty and each night the deserted streets would fill up again. Since the town was the most inaccessible city in the United States it was easy to keep their secret. This went on for two years and lucky for me, they never found the treasure.

I gasped as a series of images flashed across my mind. An emerald eye set in a large gold amulet. Flickering torches revealed stucco warriors and a map etched into a stone. A dark malevolence guarded an eerily lit cavern filled with baskets of gold.

The visions were abruptly replaced by the image of a large, heavily muscled man with silver eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire. His Hollywood good looks were marred by a scar across his right cheek. Somehow I knew he was an obnoxious, know-it- all prick, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

If he thought he could keep me from finding the gold, he was sadly mistaken. My eyes snapped open when Granny Annabel stated calmly, “He’s the one.”

I glared at her gypsy-like apparition. Granny always reminded me of an Italian Betty White. She refused to pass over until I found a strong man to protect me and she had been haunting me for three frickin’ years. “Sure he is. Just like the cop, the bouncer and Madame Celeste’s bodyguard were.”

“Beware of the Serpent,” she intoned and vanished.

Beware of the Serpent? What kind of mystical crap was that? I glanced down at the magazine and gold fever sank its claws into me. Okay, the fact that I was about to be evicted from my apartment, my car repossessed and the only thing in my refrigerator was some moldy cheese had a little to do with it. I mean finding the gold had to be easier than prying a check out of the state’s unemployment office. Right?

Little did I know my decision would forever change my life.

Leave a comment with an email address and you’re entered into my contest. Win a copy of one of my books or a pendant.

I Hear Voices is coming soon to Whispers

Gail

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THE JOYS OF MENOPAUSE

February 8, 2012 By 9 Comments

Menopause is the transition period in a woman’s life when her ovaries go on strike and all hell breaks loose. We become a human roller coaster. One minute we’re fine the next we’re Attila the Hun in a dress.

Here are the fun things you get to look forward to:

#1 – Hair starts growing in places you really rather it didn’t and you suddenly look like Groucho Marx. If that wasn’t bad enough, you realize you’re getting a little thin on top. Okay, you can give your husband a run for his money. Buying several wigs will take care of that little problem until the hot flashes hit.

#2 – With one look you can send grown men Running for their lives. Okay, the knife clenched in your fist doesn’t hurt either.

#3 – Deprived of chocolate you have the ability to take down an armed felon without breaking a sweat or a nail. Hey, who needs the S.W.A.T. team?

#4 – You don’t need a sauna, you are one. Those wonderful sweat stains and sodden hair are so very becoming.

#5 – Chocolate is the only thing standing between you and a life behind bars.

#6 – Your sex drive sputters to a complete and utter stop. If a lap dance from a hot Chippendale dancer doesn’t get you excited, your husband’s in for a long dry spell.

I tried everything from Black Cohosh to soy to Evening Primrose Oil and finally settled on Prempo to keep my homicidal tendencies under control. The good news is, the police no longer do hourly drive-bys on my house, my hot flashes are gone and my sex drive is back. Now where did I put my little black negligee?

Leave a comment with an email address and you’re entered into my giveaway for a book or a pendant.

Gail Koger

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PLANES, TRAINS AND TAXIS

February 5, 2012 By 16 Comments

Planes:

On a sixteen hour flight from Australia I got stuck sitting next to an English lady who was all elbows. I mean, those suckers should have been registered as lethal weapons. Jab! Jab! Jab! Joe Frazier had nothing on her. Trying to keep out of range, I ended up sharing half of my sister’s seat. Needless to say, she wasn’t very happy either.
About thirty minutes into the flight from hell, the English lady pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and rubbed briskly at her really hairy underarms. Ewww! Where the heck was the flight attendant when you needed her? I pushed my call button frantically. C’mon, c’mon I can’t take another 15 hours of this crap. After what seemed like an eternity, okay it was more like five minutes, the flight attendant walked up. Before I can say a word, the English lady rudely butted in and ordered five of those little bottles of whiskey. I watched in amazement as she lined them up on her tray and proceeded to toss them down, one after another. Twenty minutes later she was asleep and stayed that way for the entire flight.

Trains:

If you want to travel to Mexico, make sure you fly. I made the big mistake of taking the train from Nogales to Mazatlan, Mexico. Hey, it was cheap. Really cheap and I soon found out why. The toilet was the pull down kind. No privacy. If you needed to go, you pulled the sucker out of the wall and did your business with everyone in the compartment watching. Yeah, like that was going to happen. I’m proud to say I held it for twelve hours straight. Okay, I kept my legs crossed and prayed a lot.

The sleeping berths faced the front of the train. Every time it stopped you fell out of bed. They made a lot of stops. By the time we arrived in Mazatlan, I’m sleep deprived and really, really needed to pee. I rushed for the door, eager to find a real bathroom and found myself face to face with a big Hispanic dude. I eyed his scruffy unshaven face, filthy, sweat stained yellow shirt and his big ass rifle in horror. Holy guacamole, a bandito and we’re about to be robbed. No, I did not pee my pants, but it was close. The guy turned out to be El Policia or as us Americans like to say a cop. He wanted to know if we had any drugs. I pulled out a bottle of aspirin and handed it to him. He was not amused.

Taxis:

Riding in taxis can be downright terrifying. There’s the language barrier. Yes, I went back to Mexico, my mistake. Moving on, I’ll admit my Spanish is limited. So communicating can be like a game of charades. Lots of hand gestures, pantomiming water and swimming. “Adios Cerritos Beach. Si?” At the blank look in the driver’s eyes, I did my best swimming routine and spoke very slowly. “Vamonos, beach. Si?” We ended up at the market with twelve of his cousins trying to sell us Handmade Mexican jewelry. Go figure.

Have you ever ridden in one of those airport vans? You know, the ones driven by a downright surly driver who speaks very little English and can’t get off his cell phone long enough to find out where you’re going? That should have been my first clue that things weren’t quite right. My second clue should have been the panicked expressions of the Japanese businessmen already seated. I climbed in and before I could even close the door, the driver floored it, cutting off a city bus and whizzing in and out of traffic. Did I mention no seatbelts? Red lights weren’t a problem, either. Nope, not at all cuz we weren’t taking the highway, we were doing Mach One down a trash filled alley. The driver seemed hell bent on hitting every pothole he could, sending us crashing into the ceiling. Like some crazed kamikaze pilot, the driver shot across a busy street, barely missing a semi-truck and zoomed down another alley. I’m all for seeing the sights but c’mon. Dumpsters and transients aren’t really tourist attractions. The driver took a sharp right and suddenly I’m sitting on the lap of a Japanese businessman. He wrapped his arms around me as we went airborne and careened into the parking lot of a Marriot hotel. As soon as the driver opened the door, we all bailed. Was it my hotel? No, but I’m not stupid or suicidal. The nice Japanese businessmen escorted me inside and bought me a drink. Okay, a lot of drinks. Hey, I needed them to calm my nerves.

Leave a comment with an email address and you’re entered in my giveaway of a book or pendant.

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SFR Pitch Tournament

January 10, 2012 By Leave a Comment

Thanks to you The Warlord’s Comeuppance moved to round two of the SFR Pitch Tourmament and I need your votes. Vote for me and you’re entered into the drawing for either a copy of Warlord or a fired glass pendant.

Just leave a comment with an email address.

http://sfrcontests.blogspot.com/2012/01/2012-sfr-pitch-tournament-final-round.html

Thanks,

Gail

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LOCKED OUT ON CHRISTMAS EVE

December 23, 2011 By 8 Comments

I put the finishing touches on the tree and noticed that the outside lights were off. I flipped the switch for the porch lights and nothing happened. Hmmm. Had I overload a circuit breaker? I had gone a tiny bit overboard with the decorations. Pulling on my slippers, I went outside to check the circuit breaker panel. Nope, everything was good.

Then it hit me. Those pesky gophers had chewed through my power lines again. I headed for the front door and turned the handle. Crap! The door was locked. My dogs looked out the window and innocently wagged their tails.

Just friggin’ terrific. It was midnight, it was colder than a grave diggers’ ass and I was wearing a ratty nightgown. Thankfully my friend, Chris, had a key to my house. The bad news was she lived several miles away.

My teeth chattering, I hurried down the sidewalk and suddenly my residential street was busier than the freeway at rush hour. A kid stuck his head out the driver’s window and hollered, “Hey baby, need a ride?” I increased by pace and yelled, “No thanks.”

Another car slowed to a crawl and kissy noises emitted from the interior. Really? My granny gown wasn’t the least bit sexy. I gave him the one finger salute. Tires squealing they took off yelling really naughty words. They were definitely getting coal in their Christmas stockings.

Trying to keep to the shadows, I stepped on a beer bottle and the next thing I knew I was face down in a prickly bush. Ouch! I wiggled out of the bush. God, I hated idiots who felt they had the right to toss their trash anywhere they pleased. My hand closed over the bottle and I was suddenly blinded by a brilliant white light. Shading my eyes I waved the beer bottle at the nice cop. “Hi there. Kinda nippy tonight, isn’t it?”

“Are you drunk ma’am?”

I babbled nervously, “Do I look drunk?”

Laughter in his voice the cop answered, “Yes ma’am you do.” He dangled a pair of handcuff in front of my face before I realized it was Chris’s husband. “You’re such a jerk Ed.”

“So I have been told. You lock yourself out again?”

“Yes, could you give me a ride?”

He opened the back door on his patrol car and gestured. “Climb on in.”

I let out a long sigh. “Why can’t I sit in the front seat?”

Ed grinned. “You’re wearing that god awful nightgown.“

“Not funny.” I climbed in.

Before he shut the door Ed quipped, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you…”

“Shut up Ed.”

“Yes ma’am.” He shut the door and proceeded to drive all the way back to my house with the overhead lights flashing psychedelically. Ed parked in front of my house and hit the siren for a long ten seconds. “Whoops!”

Faces appeared in my neighbor’s windows. “You’re a real riot.”

Laughing, Ed opened the car door, escorted me up to my front door and unlocked it for me.

“When did you start carrying my key with you?”

“Right after you locked yourself out of the house for the eighth time.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

He plunked a Santa hat on his head. “I live to serve. Ho. Ho. Ho.”

“Boring night, huh?”

“Yup, Merry Christmas.”

A sad but true story.

Gail

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SHOPPING HELL

December 18, 2011 By 9 Comments

Once upon a time I enjoyed grocery shopping. I would meet my neighbors in the frozen food aisle where we would swap recipes and eagerly spread the latest gossip on who was sleeping with whom. Now it can be downright scary.

First we have sticker shock:

Rising gas prices and the winter freeze have left me literally gasping for air. They want how much for that head of lettuce?! Do they really think I’d take out a second mortgage just to have a freakin’ salad?! Unfortunately, my shrieks of horrified disbelief have resulted in an unruly mob of angry customers forming at the customer service desk, shouting, “Hell no, we won’t pay.” Their protests usually end when the police storm in wearing riot gear. I’ve been trespassed from several stores. Go figure.

The hit and run drivers:

You thought it was bad on the highways? Think again. You take your life in your hands just to buy a few frozen dinners. These kamikaze types use their carts as lethal weapons. Some are too busy texting to watch where they are going, while others run you down to get to that last overripe tomato. Look buddy, do you really think I want to spend three bucks on one squishy tomato?

The ruthless retirees:

Retirees make Navy S.E.A.L.S. look like pussy cats. Just get out of their way or lose a few fingers and toes. They consider other shoppers speed bumps. Bleeding and moaning loudly will not slow them down. Just roll out of their path and dial 9-1-1. Believe me nothing stands in their way to get to the buffet at the Golden Corral on time. Be prepared to have them cut in front of you at the checkout lane. If you protest, they just act like they can’t hear you. Any snide remarks about the two bottles of wine and jumbo box of condoms they broke speed records to buy usually ends with their walker crushing your toes, accidentally, of course.

Clean up on aisle three:

Okay, I’ll admit it. I sometime lose control of my cart. I didn’t see that enormous display of canned green beans, until I ran into it. No, I was NOT texting. The broken bottle of prune juice wasn’t my fault either. The horny old guy goosed me as I was reaching for it. Really. Would I lie to you?

The checkout lane:

Standing in the checkout line for twenty minutes or longer allows you to browse all the current magazine and keep updated on the latest Hollywood gossip without paying a dime. The cashier had my sympathy as she waited an eternity for an elderly lady dressed like Britney Spears to write one freakin’ check. I mean c’mon, has Granny ever heard of a debit card?

The frazzled mother of two screaming children in front of me had enough food in her cart to feed a small country for a week. Her little darlings continually hurled half eaten pretzels at me. Who needs sex education classes? Just force students to stand in line and listen to their ear-piercing caterwauling and presto! Abstinence suddenly becomes a terrific idea.

Check out line Lotharios:

Still waiting for Granny to finish writing her check, I had suddenly had a Darth Vader clone breathing down my neck. He was so close I could actually feel his breath on my hair and good God what was that smell? I took a hasty glance over my shoulder and almost gagged. The guy was in serious need of a good dentist. I edged forward and the next thing I knew his sweaty, hairy body is pressed against me. Aw c’mon, we aren’t even dating yet. Ducking an incoming pretzel, I accidentally hit Vader in the groin area with my basket. Yowling, he staggered back and knocked over that dang green bean display again. The manager gave me the evil eye as he rushed to help Vader.
Lucky me another lothario took his place. He smiled at me and pointed at my box on tampons on conveyor belt. “Those any good?” I was a bit taken aback but nodded. “If the pretty lady says there good, I’ll have to give them a try.” Now that’s something I’d pay good money to see.

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JUST MY LUCK

December 12, 2011 By 14 Comments

How did all this start? Them. It started with them. In 2015 something nasty found our world. They call themselves the Tai-Kok. I still remember that first psychic contact. Their hunger slapped me in the face. It was sharp, visceral and constant. They were malevolent, depraved ghouls who lived to eat. Literally. And their image is forever burned into my mind. Tall, hairless, skeletal humanoids with a mouth full of sharp metal teeth. And to complete the total gross out, three blood-red eyes glared out of skin so transparent you could see their bones and innards. Ewww.

How they found our world or why they consider us good eatin’, who knows. It was my job to stop them. My name is Kaylee Jones. I’m a cop and a Siren. You can consider me the early warning system that keeps Earth from becoming an all-you-can-eat banquet.

The bad thing is, I’m also what you’d call a trouble magnet. Just ask my brothers. Chaos and disaster dog me where ever I go. Sometimes it sucks being me. My psychic abilities are the only reason I’m still breathing.

How did I meet the vampire aka the big bad Coletti Warlord?

Part of my job description as a Siren was mentally scanning our galaxy for any signs of the Tai-Kok. I was searching the asteroid belt for their ships when I sensed an alien presence. It was male. Definitely not human. His utter aloneness. His grief for those taken from him and his burning need for vengeance resonated so deeply within me that I instinctively reached out. Big mistake. He latched on and dug in tighter than a tick on a hunting dog. No matter how hard I tried to dislodge the little shit from my mind, he wouldn’t leave. And just my luck, his hold on me kept getting stronger. For awhile my uninvited guest seemed to be content to just observe. That and growl whenever another man got near me. I mean, c’mon. It was like having a rabid pitbull stuck in your head.

What did Talree, the Warlord, want? Me. How romantic, you think? Not! The rat bastard needed blood and it seemed only mine would do. Lucky me. And to make matters worse, he decided to make me his mate. Big honor, he said. Didn’t matter that I wasn’t willing and this mate thing meant he owned me mind, body and soul. Ever tried telling a Coletti Warlord no? Doesn’t go over very well. Unless you’re armed to the teeth and even then, it’s pretty iffy. They’re damned good at mind control and add in their ability to teleport and you’re toast.

Okay, I’ll admit that the sex is hot. Really hot. Melt your panties hot. Gotta admit the first time I saw his dick it was freaky and kinda weird. So weird that I almost forgot the cardinal rule. Never ever make fun of a guy’s penis. But it gets the job done. If you know what I mean. Really really gets the job done. If you’re in to the multiple orgasm thing. Doesn’t hurt either, that Talree is a hunk. Body of a pro wrestler and a face that could grace the cover of GQ Magazine.

And the bossy jerk did agree to save our world from annihilation. But, the bad news was, Warlords aren’t benevolent do-gooder types and there was a price for them helping us. Our women.

That’s when I discovered the Coletti’s dirty little secret. Chemicals used in their Great War created a genetic anomaly and their women are going the way of the Dodo Bird. To save their race from extinction they must convert females of other species. Lucky us. Okay, I’ll live a very long time, heal quickly and can do neat stuff like teleporting and mind control but… Fangs! C’mon. Makes you want to bite something.
A neck or an arm or…

And don’t get me started on my father-in-law Zarek, the Overlord of the Coletti clans. One scary dude that makes Darth Vader look like Little Orphan Annie. Did I ever mention, that I’ve got a big mouth and don’t take orders well? Yeah, kinda suicidal when dealing with Warlords. The mate bond with Talree and my abilities as a Siren are the only things keeping Zarek from mind-wiping me. For now.

And the really bad news was, Talree’s low-down conniving brother, Malik, had joined forces with our alien freaks and now we have to stop them from destroying the galaxy. For better or worse, our fates are intertwined. To survive what is to come, I have to embrace my destiny. Become something not quite human. Sometimes to protect and serve was a real bitch. But on the bright side, I can use that power to change the system. Introduce a little truth, justice and the American way. If we fail, not only would Earth be destroyed, but countless other worlds would fall, too. So not happening on my watch.

Coming to Kindle Spice – December 14th!

Gail Koger – Where’s the chocolate?

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I HEAR VOICES – EXCERPT CONTEST

December 11, 2011 By 18 Comments

Derek Sloan and Zelda Dragos (Angel) have an unique relationship.She’s psychic, a thief and hunting for Montezuma’s lost treasure. Derek’s ex-military, a Tomb Raider who occasionally does work for the CIA and wants Montezuma’s treasure for himself.

Just let me know which excerpt you like the best and post a comment. Up for grabs a copy of any of my books or a copy of I Hear Voices when it’s published early next year.

Here are a few mini excerpts:

Chapter Three:

“Stay the hell away from me or I’ll do more than stun you.”

“You try that little stunt again and I’ll put over my knee.”

“The big, scary CIA agent’s gonna spank me. Gosh, I’m trembling in my boots.”

Derek laughed. It was a masculine, mocking taunt. “When I’m done with you, you will be screaming my name and begging for more.”

Another excerpt:

What’s going on, Angel?” Sloan’s commanding tone steadied my nerves.

My voice shook, “Not sure. I triggered something.”

“You talkin’ woo-woo stuff?”

A paralyzing fear suddenly engulfed me in the raw edges of a nightmare. A hideous creature shimmered into existence and moved towards me with sharp reptilian fangs. My breath came in rasping shudders. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

“If you believe it to be real, it will become real,” Granny Annabel admonished.

Sloan snapped, “What kind of drugs are you taking Zelda?”

For a moment the impossible horror of the situation almost overwhelmed me. Then I got mad. Drugs? He thought I was taking drugs. “You’re such a dick head.” I disconnected and stuffed the phone in my backpack.

Chapter Four:

Derek regarded me with all the tenderness of a vulture contemplating lunch. “You really think you can take me on and win?”

“You mean in hand to hand combat? No, but I can win using this.” I tapped my head.

The ass threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I can find you any time, any place, Angel, and if I want to tie you up, won’t be able to stop me. You might even like it.”

Another excerpt:

“I hate, loathe and despise you.”

He winked at me. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I really do,” I retorted.

He brushed the sweaty hair off my face. “You’ve got spunk but you’re outclassed, Angel. Do what I tell you and we’ll get along just fine.”

Spunk? God, what a snot wad. I dumped the contents of the bottle over his head and watched in satisfaction as the water poured down the Tomb Raider’s face. “I think you’re suffering from heat exhaustion, sugar, because you’re definitely delusional.”

Derek’s hand clamped around the back of my neck and his mouth crushed mine in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Chapter 10:

“Well, this filly has the bit between her teeth and you’re in for one hell of a ride, cowboy,” I snarled.

Derek dropped a hard kiss on my mouth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Angel.”

Chapter 11:

Derek examined me, like a scientist studying an interesting but odd specimen. “Are you angling for a ring, Angel?”

I gaped at him in astonishment. Marriage!? Had he gone off the deep end? Okay, he was the man of my dreams but Prince Charming he wasn’t. “Why in the hell would I want to marry you?”

“Because you’re in love with me,” the jerk answered.

Chapter 12:

“You don’t get it, do you? You belong to me now and you will do exactly what I say.”

“Get a dog. They fetch, heel and roll over on command.” I poked him the chest. “I don’t.”

Chapter 13:

“Why did you marry me?”

“Seemed like the right thing to do.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? You don’t even like me.”

“Oh I like you well enough.”

“Be still my heart. I don’t think I can handle such flattery.”

The big jerk just laughed. “You’re one of a kind, Angel.”

Which one is the best? The suspense is killing me!

Gail

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CHRISTMAS ADVENTURES AT WALLY WORLD

December 6, 2011 By 21 Comments

A car accident back in August left my budget busted. To stretch my limited funds I headed to Wally World for some Christmas shopping. I wasn’t expecting to be sucked into The Twilight Zone.

My first clue that there might be some problems was a lady leaving the store in a bio-hazard suit. Okay, I’ll be the first to admit I get a good laugh from the pictures posted on the People of Wally World website. So I shrugged it off as she was one of “those” colorful individuals.

Big mistake. The front entrance should be declared a bio-hazard disaster area. I mean, my God, how many men find it that necessary to hock up a wad before entering? I tiptoed around the slimy mess and grabbed a cart.

The cart had a mind of its own. I wanted to go straight and it didn’t. One look at the other carts littered with dirty tissues, empty beer bottles and some kind of slimy green stuff and I knew I was stuck with my defective cart.

Yanking and shoving I managed to get the cart inside. The wheels were loose and emitted a loud thwack, thwack, thwack as I pushed it down the aisle. Babies began crying, old people turned off their hearing aids and I got nasty looks from the other shoppers. Right, like I’m enjoying this?

I nodded politely to a hairy, bearded man wearing an awesome blue satin evening dress and tiara. He gave me the Queen Elizabeth wave. I waved back and smacked into a three hundred pound man in a speedo. “Sorry!” Boy was I sorry. I never, ever wanted to see that again.

I quickly dragged my cart down the next aisle. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! A little kid ran screaming for his mommy. Maybe I should forget about Christmas this year.

Two shrieking, teenage girls drag racing in the motorized carts zoomed down the aisle, seeing who could knock the most boxes off the shelves. Where the heck was security? An old geezer in a uniform huffed after them. Oh dear God, is that what I could look forward to in my “golden” years?

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The cart suddenly veered to the left and I took out a display of Christmas ornaments. The bulbs rolled in every direction. Oh crap! I smiled nicely at the harried clerk who rushed over. “Sorry.” She let out a long sigh, like I do this for $7.50 an hour? “It’s okay, it happens all the time.”

A pounding headache hit and I headed for the pain medications. I yanked the cart around to the next aisle, reached for the aspirin and my jaw dropped. An older dude with a Santa Claus beard had just mooned me. His pants hung so far past his rather hairy behind I don’t how he kept them up at all. His wife just stood there examining a tube of hemorrhoid ointment. He probably was a pain-in-the-butt.

The teenage girls whizzed by again knocking over a display of mouth wash. You know, home baked cookies made wonderful gifts. I abandoned the cart from hell and left. “Ho. Ho. Ho. Merry Christmas,” the greeter shouted after me. I broke into a run.

Gail Koger – queen baker

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I HEAR VOICES

December 4, 2011 By 35 Comments

I hear voices and see dead people. No, I’m not nuts. I’m psychic. I worked for a psychic hotline called Picas Moon. My specialty was Tarot Card readings. For only $3.99 a minute you got to chat with me, a real live, genuine, authentic, certified psychic. I even had a nice little certificate hanging on the wall of my cubicle that stated that fact. Want to know the future, need to connect with the spirit world or find the love of your life? Give me your Visa or Master Card numbers and I was yours for as long as you needed me or until your money ran out. It was a nice gig.

Until Madam Celeste called me into her office on Christmas Eve and instead of getting that nice bonus check I was expecting, I was laid off. Me? I was the only genuine, authentic psychic she had. The rest of bunch was delusional quacks, flat out liars and phony, no talent hacks. Okay, the delusional quacks were Madam Celeste’s daughters, and of course, they kept their jobs. Family is family no matter how incredibly awful their advice was. I foresaw a lawsuit in their immediate future.

Since I’m a genuine, authentic psychic I should have seen it coming. Right? It doesn’t work that way. I can’t predict my future. My life is basically a crap shoot just like everyone else’s and sometimes you roll snake eyes.

On Christmas morning I got hit with more bad news. My Aunt Sophie, another authentic psychic, had tracked me down and offered me my old job back. The one where I did séances that scammed grieving relatives out of their hard earned money. I hated every minute of it.

The only reason I stayed as long as I did was to protect my grandmother from Uncle Dante, the devil incarnate. But it was Aunt Sophie, his older sister that scared the piss out of me. She dabbled in the black arts and was known to have summoned a demon or two. When Granny Annabel died I made my escape and never looked back.

What was Aunt Sophie’s ultimatum? If I wasn’t back at the family compound in Seattle by New Year’s Day, she would turn my life into a living hell. She could and she did. My family members are not the nicest people in the world. In fact, most of them are scam artists, thieves or worse.

After Aunt Sophie put the word out, finding another psychic gig was nigh-on impossible. Because of the sucky economy I couldn’t even get a job at a local burger joint. Trying to get the State of Arizona to fork over unemployment benefits was even harder. The minute I mentioned I was a psychic it was over.

Out of desperation to prove to the clerk that I really was a genuine psychic I blurted out, “Your boyfriend, Mark, is cheating on you with your best friend, Martha.” The poor thing burst into tears and fled her window.

The nice security guard escorted me to a tiny waiting room and promised a supervisor would speak to me shortly. Was that shorthand for the police were coming? I hoped not.

Bored out of my mind, I flipped through an old Arizona Highways magazine and an article about Montezuma’s gold caught my attention. Gold! I could really use some of that Aztec gold about now.

Seems back in the early fifteenth century Cortez overran the great Aztec empire. To keep the greedy bastard from taking all his loot, Montezuma packed up his gold and with a small army guarding it, sent it north into what is now the canyon country of southern Utah. There, so the legend tells, his king’s treasure is still hidden.

The story got even more interesting. In 1921, Freddy Crystal, an Indiana Jones type, showed up in Kanab, Utah and convinced the town folk that he had a four centuries old map that would lead them to the long-lost treasure. He must have given one hell of a speech to get these hard working farmers to dig for gold, because gold fever hit with a vengeance.

Kanab’s elected mayor and city council were the first all petticoat government of that time. The women decided it was plain foolishness to share the treasure with the outside world and fines were levied for even uttering the word “treasure”. The ladies organized the treasure hunt like generals commanding an army. Each morning Kanab would empty and each night the deserted streets would fill up again. Since the town was the most inaccessible city in the United States it was easy to keep their secret. This went on for two years and lucky for me, they never found the treasure.

I gasped as a series of images flashed across my mind. An emerald eye set in a large gold amulet. Flickering torches revealed stucco warriors and a map etched into a stone. A dark malevolence guarded an eerily lit cavern filled with baskets of gold.

The visions were abruptly replaced by the image of a large, heavily muscled man with silver eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire. His Hollywood good looks were marred by a scar across his right cheek. Somehow I knew he was an obnoxious, know-it- all prick, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

If he thought he could keep me from finding the gold, he was sadly mistaken. My eyes snapped open when Granny Annabel stated calmly, “He’s the one.”

I glared at her gypsy-like apparition. Granny always reminded me of an Italian Betty White. She refused to pass over until I found a strong man to protect me and she had been haunting me for three frickin’ years. “Sure he is. Just like the cop, the bouncer and Madame Celeste’s bodyguard were.”

“Beware of the Serpent,” she intoned and vanished.

Beware of the Serpent? What kind of mystical crap was that? I glanced down at the magazine and gold fever sank its claws into me. Okay, the fact that I was about to be evicted from my apartment, my car repossessed and the only thing in my refrigerator was some moldy cheese had a little to do with it. I mean finding the gold had to be easier than prying a check out of the state’s unemployment office. Right?

Little did I know my decision would forever change my life.

I HEAR VOICES – COMING SOON TO WHISPERS

Gail Koger

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