The Three C’s: Continuous, Concordant, and Crackles

What? You back at the Asylum again? Well, since you’re here, might as well peep this post.

I was going to spread this out but since this thing had a deadline and between looking at some ratchet reruns on Roku, trying to outbid this douchebag on this fly sword, and sleeping, I didn’t ask for more time … I’m going to have to make this a homerun in one post.

Whether you read this in one shot … um, that’s up to you. Not like I’m going to jump out of the bushes and stab you if you don’t do it. On second thought …

Let’s get down to business.


Continuous Drips was a concept developed by fellow author Queen of Spades, and she invited Synful Desire and myself to tag along for the ride. Since the front of the cover would have been too chunky to put all our names on there, we decided to call ourselves “The Collective”. I like it cause it sounds like we’re the short story mob or some such. Unlike Desire I don’t have time to go into the history of the thing but I do want to give the crowd some excerpts from my short stories—“Unrest”, “Omitted”, and “The Kutters”.

From “Unrest”

Spywrit hopes her mom doesn’t pick up on the shift in tone before she hops in the shower. As drops beat against the pores, she hears his whisper. Before a year ago, there are no recollections of his timbre, yet Spywrit is no longer functioning without his melody tickling her ears.

Spywrit matches her breathing with the hiss of the steam. She drifts when his whisper transforms into an urgent rasp. She does not want his anger, only his joy.

From “Omitted”

Have you ever met someone and just knew he was the one you were supposed to love for a lifetime? That was how I felt about Jacob the first time I saw him. He sat in the far booth at the corner café. Dark black hair with ocean blue eyes. Deep naturally tanned skin. Frame not overly stocky but one could tell he frequented the gym. While everyone else held Kindle Fires, he held a paperback book. Occasionally, he’d use his forefinger to push up his black rimmed glasses. Apparently, they preferred to stay balanced on the tip of his nose.

The fourth time the glasses slipped, I offered my finger instead. He looked up at me and smiled. His dimples appeared, and my heart began skipping beats. That finger marked my pathway into his life.

From “The Kutters”

Nora had done her job well. The market was looking for something fresh—something that hadn’t been regurgitated and repackaged to appear different. The Kutters was a mix of conflict, action and tough decisions, and it became one of his highest selling books.

With the success of The Kutters, the bar had been raised.

Jonas had written three more books since then. Two of them had a warm reception but managed to place of the Best Sellers list. Jonas’ last book was a bit more experimental with style. Perhaps he was high off The Kutters’ fame, or maybe he was tired of his staple writing formula. Whatever the case, the last book was considered a publishing bomb and readers, critics, even Nora, began to wonder if Jonas had lost his magic.

My twist on Unity was reflected in my story “Coalesce”.

From Chapter Four of “Coalesce”

Visha put the cover over the toilet seat, pulled down her pants and lowered herself on the diaphanous material. There were new items written on the stall door—a mixture of philosophies conjured from the aftereffects of illegal substances, along with scribbled phone numbers of girls rumored to be easy. The reading of these added an extra eight minutes to her bathroom stall visit. While wiping the excess urine, Visha twisted her lips in confusion. Beige looking flakes were mixed in with the dampness. She dropped it in the toilet, pulled up her pants—making sure that her long tank top didn’t accidentally get tucked in. The automatic flush activated and the tainted tissue disappeared in a blink.

Can the average, awkward girl fall for the hot, handsome guy? I took quite a bit of liberties with interpretation in my short tale “Inside Me”.

Excerpt from “Inside Me”

My eagerness ebbed to an immeasurable high. I threw hesitation out the window and sprinted, closing the distance between us.

“Wait!” she barked but I was already behind her. The lower part of my body made the intentions clear—entrance into her innermost secret place. I couldn’t tell whether the groan was hers or my own.


As far as whether I’ll be doing any more C’s (like Concordant), I did miss out on the 2nd one. I spilled my T in an earlier post but I am looking to be a part of the 3rd one.

Just have to stay tuned at this spot for details. Well, not exactly stay put here because that’s some stalker type behavior and I don’t like stalkers.



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