<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233</id><updated>2011-11-24T21:21:26.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crimson City</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jill Cooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18280694476785593762</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>208</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-117364218509244230</id><published>2007-03-11T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T13:43:05.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to SHOMI-land!</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;You thought the Crimson City series rocked?*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Okay, it still does. But work with me here, people.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, count your ammunition and get those seatbelts on,&lt;br /&gt;because here comes... &lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/shomilogo_50cropped106.gif" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;b&gt;SHOMI has it all.&lt;br /&gt;Kick-Ass Action. Romance. Suspense. Alternate Realms.&lt;br /&gt;(And there are some really funny parts, too.) &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;The first two books are already available for preorder and we're getting those excerpts up: &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lizmaverick.com" target="_new"&gt;Liz Maverick's WIRED&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; &lt;a href="http://www.mariannemancusi.com" target="_new"&gt;Marianne Mancusi's MOONGAZER&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/shomigirl_longblack.gif" align="left" /&gt;Stay tuned for more information...now back to our regular Crimson City programming...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*SHOMI what?&lt;br /&gt;You came here for Crimson City?&lt;br /&gt;Just keep scrolling for the blog archives or go to &lt;a href="http://www.lizmaverick.com" target="_new"&gt;www.lizmaverick.com&lt;/a&gt; for series news. Crimson City will never die. &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In the future, Los Angeles is center stage &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;in the battle for supremacy between the species.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the future, Los Angeles is known as... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;CRIMSON CITY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lizmaverick.com" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book #1: Crimson City by Liz Maverick" src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/crimsonseries1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.marjoriemliu.com/" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book #2: A Taste of Crimson, by Marjorie M. Liu" src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/crimsonseries2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pattioshea.com/" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book #3: Through a Crimson Veil, by Patti O'Shea" src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/crimsonseries3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.carolynjewel.com/" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book #4: A Darker Crimson, by Carolyn Jewel" src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/crimsonseries4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jadeleeauthor.com/" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book #5: Seduced by Crimson, by Jade Lee" src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/ccweb_seduced.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lizmaverick.com/" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book #6: Crimson Rogue, by Liz Maverick" src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/ccweb_rogue.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lizmaverick.com/" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img alt="Book #7: Anthology, Shards of Crimson, by Maverick, Jewel, O'Shea, Lee" src="http://www.lizmaverick.com/images/ccweb_shards.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Series created &lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;by &lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;Liz Maverick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-117364218509244230?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/117364218509244230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=117364218509244230' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/117364218509244230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/117364218509244230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2007/03/welcome-to-shomi-land.html' title='Welcome to SHOMI-land!'/><author><name>Jill Cooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18280694476785593762</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-115580752382898732</id><published>2006-08-17T02:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T09:21:58.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future of Crimson City</title><content type='html'>This is Jill Cooper, reporting in from the chaos that continues in &lt;em&gt;Crimson City&lt;/em&gt;. I have word from Liz Maverick on the future of the series. Yes, there will be more &lt;em&gt;Crimson City&lt;/em&gt;! &lt;strong&gt;Shards of Crimson&lt;/strong&gt; is an anthology featuring original &lt;em&gt;Crimson City&lt;/em&gt; authors. It will be out in &lt;strong&gt;January 2007&lt;/strong&gt;. (Happy New Year, indeed!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those wondering about the Jill/Marius story, Liz asked me to tell you that she definitely has a Jill/Marius/Hayden triangle in mind (Who will I pick? My soulmate or my teammate? Wish *I* knew. Those boys have lots of tricks up their armored sleeves and it's gonna get ugly before all is said and done), but there are no confirmed plans to publish the book right this minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To keep up with Liz's plans for Crimson City, try checking &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/lizmaverick"&gt;http://www.myspace.com/lizmaverick&lt;/a&gt; from time to time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to run. Tajo Maddox seems to have lost his mind; he kidnapped a werewolf princess (yes, you read that correctly) and now the rest of us rogues are trying to figure out what the hell to do about it all. Over and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jill&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-115580752382898732?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/115580752382898732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=115580752382898732' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/115580752382898732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/115580752382898732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/08/future-of-crimson-city.html' title='The Future of Crimson City'/><author><name>Jill Cooper</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18280694476785593762</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114722773963201829</id><published>2006-05-09T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-09T19:22:19.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Captain Caveman</title><content type='html'>I don't know whether to thank Mika or worry about the influence she seems to have over Alzbeta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took Alzbeta shopping again, but this time, my demoness came home with affordable clothes.  Alzbeta also had a cave woman costume.  That thing barely covered anything.  And she looked hot in it.  The sex between us is always good, but that night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will thank Mika.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114722773963201829?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114722773963201829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114722773963201829' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114722773963201829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114722773963201829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/05/captain-caveman.html' title='Captain Caveman'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114696012107462003</id><published>2006-05-06T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-06T17:02:01.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Developments</title><content type='html'>I have been spending time with Tiber Korzha, his wife and step-daughter Holly. Holly is coming into her demon powers and Tiber and Claudia do not wish her to be without guidance. Because I am obligated to the vampire I could not refuse. Holly's father is a Bak-Faru demon and those darker powers often come early. She should know what it means to have this heritage. The girl is eleven now, but I know already she is my future vishtau mate. I have not told the vampire or the girl's mother. Nor Holly. She is too young. This is not a burden she should bear. I do not know how or what I will tell Lenore. Lenore is my heart. She is pregnant with our first child, and in ten years I will have a vishtau mate. This is not Holly's fault or mine, but I resent her for a future I do not want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114696012107462003?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114696012107462003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114696012107462003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114696012107462003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114696012107462003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/05/developments.html' title='Developments'/><author><name>Aslet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16340175851067237769</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/25/66308929_5a4f098e15_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114672057099781302</id><published>2006-05-03T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-03T22:29:31.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>downward spiral</title><content type='html'>My sister's here. With her new husband, her fiance's father. Noah says I have to be nice to pregnant women. Fine. But you know what? When all I had to worry about was one lying cheating liar dog, life was a lot simpler. Noah refuses to move, not even to Redondo Beach, which I hear is a pretty bitching place. He says he likes my new brother-in-law who is older than my vampire father with his damn Hedge fund and strip joint franchise. I can't even talk about the rest right now except that Evan, who was supposed to be my brother-in-law, might actually be more screwed up than me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114672057099781302?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114672057099781302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114672057099781302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114672057099781302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114672057099781302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/05/downward-spiral.html' title='downward spiral'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114653692830590383</id><published>2006-05-01T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T19:28:48.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shop Til You Drop</title><content type='html'>I went shopping today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought lots!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114653692830590383?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114653692830590383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114653692830590383' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114653692830590383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114653692830590383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/05/shop-til-you-drop.html' title='Shop Til You Drop'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114592736857770114</id><published>2006-04-24T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T18:10:44.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lesson Learned</title><content type='html'>McCabe had a good laugh at my expense.  Guess I deserved it, but I'm certain Mika was behind the incredibly large tab Alzbeta ran up shopping.  We're going to have to keep about half of what she bought, but I took her back to Rodeo and returned what we could.  We also had a conversation about money.  And when I was finished, Alzbeta discussed how she expected me to treat her.  We reached an agreement on all topics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114592736857770114?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114592736857770114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114592736857770114' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114592736857770114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114592736857770114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/lesson-learned.html' title='Lesson Learned'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114575829411240396</id><published>2006-04-22T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T19:11:40.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoosh! Right Down the toilet.</title><content type='html'>The phone rings. It's 2pm two days after the full moon. I answer it because Noah can sleep through anything. It's Evan, my sister's loving fiance. The rich one who supposedly knocked her up. He's on his cell phone outside my old apartment wondering how come I'm not home on a Sunday afternoon. Right. I am home on a Sunday afternoon. So I tell him to F off, all nice like, but he just calls right back. The jerk. He's looking for our folks because the wedding is supposed to be next Sunday and he's worried they're going to miss the rehearsal dinner and besides, he brought my maid of honor gown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't heard from Dad since he went fang and I sent him over to the strip joint. Noah said he heard Dad got arrested for trying to bite a police officer, but I called the jail where they hold paranormal offenders and found out he didn't actually bite anyone. He just threatened to bite some stupid kid who tried to roust him outside the bar. Last I heard, he was starting up a hedge fund for some of the Strata +1's and that Tiber Korzha is after him for not clearing the activity with him first. Mom called once to say she hasn't heard from Toni, a second time to say she'd meet a real gentleman and a third time to say she'd gotten married. To a Dumont. Jesus H. Christ! Is she insane? Yes. Then Toni called to ask me, in all seriousness, if I wouldn't mind being in this movie she's making. All I had to do was turn into a werewolf and pretend to bite her.  So, I said sure, but I'm not going to pretend, and &lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt; says, OK, but would I mind being naked? Ew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so, I'm on the phone with Evan wondering if I should send him over to the strip joint to look for Dad. I forgot to mention, he's a part owner now and looking to expand the franchise. All of a sudden, he's bawling that my sister has dumped him and the wedding's off. The baby isn't his, it's his father's, and can he come over because he really, really needs to know how to get her back. Noah started laughing and he took the phone away from me and gave him our effing address.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114575829411240396?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114575829411240396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114575829411240396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114575829411240396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114575829411240396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/whoosh-right-down-toilet.html' title='Whoosh! Right Down the toilet.'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114549725004620082</id><published>2006-04-19T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T18:40:50.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hayes Report</title><content type='html'>Hayes tracked me down, breathing fire about my mate leading his woman astray.  He was waving some receipts in front of me and ranting about what Alzbeta spent.  My response?  I told him Mika was a weak demon (Yeah, right) and that his girlfriend was from the darkest most dangerous branch.  Who was more likely to lead whom astray?  He stormed off then and I haven't seen him since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it wrong to enjoy watching another man losing his sanity over a female demon?  Mika had me climbing the walls before we bonded--and some days she still drives me nuts.  I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm almost afraid, though, to ask her what &lt;em&gt;she&lt;/em&gt; spent on the girls' day out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114549725004620082?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114549725004620082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114549725004620082' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114549725004620082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114549725004620082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/hayes-report.html' title='The Hayes Report'/><author><name>McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15251668261158207430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/C_fire.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114531934314470442</id><published>2006-04-17T17:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T17:15:43.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grrr!</title><content type='html'>Things I am sick of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being pregnant&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being uncomfortable&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tiber asking me every five seconds if I need anything&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The news&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Worrying about the baby&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Worrying what Tiber will think about the baby if it turns out it's not his&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is so unfair, I know. I know I know. He has been nothing but supportive. But I keep having these awful dreams where he tells me he only wanted me if the baby is his, and then he leaves me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114531934314470442?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114531934314470442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114531934314470442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114531934314470442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114531934314470442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/grrr.html' title='Grrr!'/><author><name>Claudia Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04169296869287071413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114514917319953422</id><published>2006-04-15T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T18:06:16.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love LA</title><content type='html'>It was a tremendous day!  We started out on Rodeo Drive and Alzbeta showed herself to be a world champion shopper.  And it helps that she has no concept of what a dollar is worth.  I'd feel bad for Marc if he didn't totally deserve this.  It didn't hurt anything that Alzbeta (we have to find a way to shorten that to something other than Al!) needed clothes and she looked good in almost everything she tried on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CF/Ven, at which store do you think Alzbeta made the biggest dent in Marc's wallet? My guess is Gucci, but she did pretty well at Prada and Theodore too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cleaned up at Venice Beach, which will no doubt thrill Conor since my total spent for the day was a mere fraction of Alzbeta's figure.  :-)  But hey, I have plenty of designer clothes, and when I went to VB with McCabe, I didn't get to do any shopping.  My hurried purchase of a barrette doesn't count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let Ven and CF talk about their own purchases, but I brought home about half a dozen T-shirts, the cutest pair of tie-dyed tennis shoes and that store still had the barrettes so I bought more.  And this visit, I got to watch the entertainers and I'm the one who joined one of the dancers mid-performance.  I had to make up for the time Conor got so jealous, didn't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet hurt from all the walking, but it was lots of fun!  Besides, I can still see the expression on Marc's face when I helped Alzbeta carry all her bags inside.  Man, I wish I'd had a camera so CF and Ven could have seen it.  That was the highlight of the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114514917319953422?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114514917319953422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114514917319953422' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114514917319953422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114514917319953422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-love-la.html' title='I love LA'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114498305811239803</id><published>2006-04-13T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T19:50:58.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homework</title><content type='html'>I've checked out every book in the university library that deals with demons and I'm almost done reading most of them.  I wonder how much is true?  I mean Mika doesn't lure people into lakes and drown them just for fun.  How do I discover, though, what is true?  I suppose I could ask Mika or Uncle David or even Aunt Laryn, but then they might ask why I want to know and I've never gotten away with lying.  But if they find out I'm still thinking about Nic, they'll all work even harder to keep him away from me.  Families suck sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114498305811239803?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114498305811239803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114498305811239803' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114498305811239803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114498305811239803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/homework.html' title='Homework'/><author><name>Kimiko Noguchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17342786942656955139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/kimi2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114489892030574552</id><published>2006-04-12T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T20:28:40.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just shoot me now</title><content type='html'>Two days ago, Dear old Dad called me at 5:30 am. He wanted to know if Mom was with me. Uh, technically, no. Which meant I was totally OK with telling him to F off. Only, he didn't because he's used to that backtalk from me. I should have shocked him by being nice. One thing I didn't realize until about twenty minutes into his speech, possibly because no one actually mentioned it, is that Toni of the Wonder Boobs is Toni-my-Dad's-girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend I guess.  You guessed it. My mother stole my father's girlfriend. Now, Toni, as you may recall, is working at a vampire strip joint. And I should also mention that my Mom has been going to yoga and Pilates while she's been in town living off Toni's wages of sin AND she's acquired a pair of Wonder Boobs herself.  Plus, she dyed her hair platinum blonde and goes around telling everyone I'm her younger sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm telling this all out of order. But anyway, Mom went to see Toni's act last week and now she works there, too. Noah went to check out the happy couple and when he came back after a really long time (he was with the lying cheating liar dog) Noah said they're both hot. He saved himself from certain death by immediately saying he likes mine better. He still slept on the couch that night.  So,  anyway, who shows up on my doorstep about an hour ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad. But it's way not what you're thinking because nobody could imagine anything like the truth.  Seems he actually got into town yesterday, but he ended up getting cornered by some femme fang on his way to the hotel and being clueless about this town, now he's a vampire. I told him where the club was because I know he likes Wonder Boobs and free drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he should be there about now.  I wonder how it's going?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114489892030574552?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114489892030574552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114489892030574552' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114489892030574552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114489892030574552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/just-shoot-me-now.html' title='Just shoot me now'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114472259034181872</id><published>2006-04-10T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T19:29:52.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Human Women</title><content type='html'>I have underestimated Lenore. I thought she would be weaker than a demon female and that if I bound her to me, and even bound me to her, that I would still wish to mate with other women. I do not, and that was not what I intended. I did not want her to mate with anyone else, and I wanted to kill that human she was with before she understood I am the only mate for her. So, was it not logical to think that binding would give me all that I wanted? Lenore for me alone. She has become my heart, and even if I could go back to Orcus, I would not. I miss Orcus, but without Lenore, I would be nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She agrees we should have children, but she insists I must learn better how to convince others I am a human male. She is right. My children will live here, and so must I. Lenore obtained certain papers, and we went to City Hall and went through the human bonding ritual. The Elismal ritual is much more gratifying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114472259034181872?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114472259034181872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114472259034181872' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114472259034181872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114472259034181872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/human-women.html' title='Human Women'/><author><name>Aslet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16340175851067237769</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/25/66308929_5a4f098e15_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114450016874806425</id><published>2006-04-08T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T05:42:48.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alzbeta</title><content type='html'>I think Alzbeta and I are going to end up as friends.  No one is more surprised by that than I am.  She &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; a dark demon.  But when we were fighting to get Marc out of Orcus, she was firmly on our side and her help was invaluable.  That was what prompted me to take her shopping last night even though I still wasn't sure what I thought about her.  It surprised me to discover that she isn't evil like the other Dark Ones.  We actually had fun!  I know, it stunned me too.  Dark demons and fun seems like such an oxymoron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ven, sorry about not getting back to you--I didn't check in last night.  Alzbeta and I have decided we're going to spend the day shopping at Venice Beach on the 15th.  Without our males in tow.  Do you and CF want to join us?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114450016874806425?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114450016874806425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114450016874806425' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114450016874806425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114450016874806425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/alzbeta.html' title='Alzbeta'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114436954952127088</id><published>2006-04-06T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T17:25:49.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday Night at the Crimson Jim</title><content type='html'>Alzbeta's still giving me the cold shoulder so I went out last night.  I just needed a break from the sad, but accusatory looks she gives me.  I know, I know.  Everyone's pissed at me right now.  They'll get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ran into someone who looks a hell of a lot like McCabe at the Crimson Jim.  I'd had enough to drink by then that at first I thought it &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; McCabe.  I don't know if the dude is a brother or cousin or what have you--all he'd admit when I pressed was that they were related.  Since I'm still avoiding McCabe himself right now, I guess I won't be getting my questions answered any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Sebastian, though, he was an all right guy, and he made a lot of sense.  His advice helped me smooth the waters a little with my woman.  Alzbeta is still angry, but there's been a noticeable mellowing.  I'll take all the help I can get with her.  I don't know if she's doing something through this bond we have, but I might be developing something more than fondness for her.  Who'd have thought I'd ever start falling for a demon chick?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114436954952127088?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114436954952127088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114436954952127088' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114436954952127088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114436954952127088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/wednesday-night-at-crimson-jim.html' title='Wednesday Night at the Crimson Jim'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114429182986033439</id><published>2006-04-05T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T19:50:29.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dog Needs to Diet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#33ffcc;border-top:medium dotted #ffcc99; border-right:medium dotted #99cc33; border-bottom:medium dotted #333333; border-left:medium dotted #993366;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#99ff66; border:medium dashed #993399; color:#003333; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;Jonny made a new friend, and she works at the morgue. Can you believe my luck? Even better, lately she's all distracted by some freaking freak of a demon so I get to sneak in there now and then and look to see what's on tap, cuz, you know, if the stiff is too fresh, that's kind of gross. There's an even better even better. Turns out the guy who has her shift when she's not there is some kind of sicko and spends all his time surfing the Net looking for photos of knees. Man, how do people get messed up like that? Anyway, this morgue thing is heaven, an all you can eat buffet. Last night, there was a blonde chick. I think a demon got her, but she was tasty all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whiner dog said her mother's in town and wants to convert. Necro doesn't convert just anybody and one whiner dog in the pack is way more than enough. If she's a babe, though, I'll do her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114429182986033439?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114429182986033439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114429182986033439' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114429182986033439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114429182986033439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/dog-needs-to-diet.html' title='The Dog Needs to Diet!'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114419569426671031</id><published>2006-04-04T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T17:08:14.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Big Deal</title><content type='html'>I don't care if Nic's a demon--after all, Mika is too, right?  Demons are people too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know no demon male is going to want a weak woman, so I talked Uncle David into teaching me the down and dirty martial arts fighting he taught Mika.  He thinks it's because I'm worried about walking the campus at night and doesn't need to know anything else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114419569426671031?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114419569426671031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114419569426671031' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114419569426671031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114419569426671031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/no-big-deal.html' title='No Big Deal'/><author><name>Kimiko Noguchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17342786942656955139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/kimi2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114410954106945567</id><published>2006-04-03T17:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T17:24:49.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am SO not a whiner!</title><content type='html'>Just wait til I found out who started calling me a whiner dog. She's going to be sorry. Truly sorry. This morning, I get up to go to work. Noah is still sleeping in our cave. (ick. We need windows!) I walk out and some wanker looks at me and barks like he's some yippy yappy excuse for a canine, and then says, &amp;quot;Good morning, whiner dog.&amp;quot; All the way to the street, people are calling me whiner dog. Well, F them. I tore into several of them, the ones who didn't see what I did to the other dogs. So, be warned. I'm going to find you, take you down and leave you out in the sun to rot so bad even the cheating liar cheater dog won't want what's left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and my mom's in town with Toni of the wonder boobs. Last night Toni got a job at a fang strip joint by asking to see the manager and then taking off her T-Shirt when he came out. $25 an hour plus tips! I don't think she knows her customers expect to bite her during the lap dance portion of the show. So what happens to the happy couple when Mom goes dog and Toni's a fang, I'd like to know. They're staying at the Ritz (courtesy of Dad's Amex).  They expect him to cancel it any minute now. Mom wants to meet Noah, but I've put them off, and I told her I am NOT going to convert her. That's just plain sick. At least one of them has a job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114410954106945567?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114410954106945567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114410954106945567' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114410954106945567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114410954106945567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-am-so-not-whiner.html' title='I am SO not a whiner!'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114402799321823553</id><published>2006-04-02T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T04:05:49.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And the Beat Goes On</title><content type='html'>This last trip to Orcus seemed to have lasted forever. It also seemed to shift the whole world, and yet some things never change. My dad called. He wants to come down to Crimson City again and make sure I'm okay about the new baby. I told him it wasn't necessary, that I've come to terms with it, but he didn't believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how life can be put in perspective by almost losing the male who means everything to you. Conor shrugs it off, even dug up some old quotation for me about close only counting in horseshoes and hand grenades, but I can't be so blase about it. It seems every time I close my eyes, I see McCabe's near miss and when I think about how barren my life would be without him, well, I start pampering him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't like it and I'm trying to stop being so serious with him, to tease him like I usually do. I've managed a few times, but all I want to do is hold him and tell him how much he means to me. That part, McCabe is okay with--it's my fussing that's making him all grumbly. I'll keep working on that, but I'm having trouble feeling like I want to tease anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of grumbly, McCabe's father joined us at the Moondance Diner this morning about 2am. Maybe he was celebrating Daylight Savings Time. ;-) As soon as Conor saw Sebastian, he growled. It went downhill from there. Sebastian is truly trying to forge a relationship with his son, but even though Conor knows the ramifications of the Rauthima Summoning Ritual firsthand, he's not quite ready to forgive and forget. When I told his father how close McCabe came to dying in Orcus, my mate even growled at me. I made it up to him, though, when I got him in bed. Remember, I know Ten Tongue Tricks That Will Drive Him Wild. ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114402799321823553?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114402799321823553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114402799321823553' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114402799321823553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114402799321823553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-beat-goes-on.html' title='And the Beat Goes On'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114377360142359493</id><published>2006-03-30T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-30T18:53:21.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gang's All Here</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Marc Hayes owes so much to so many people that he'll be paying us back for several lifetimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't even know where to start.  Should I mention all the time Conor and I wasted searching Biirkma for him?  With the dense population, locating one energy signature out of so many was difficult even if he is human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do I mention that Alzbeta is now exiled from all contact with the dark demons because she helped Marc carry out his vengeance?  She would have been shunned anyway because demon females are not supposed to mate with anyone from a branch weaker than theirs, and Marc is human which is even worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How about the fact that McCabe came this close to being seriously hurt while defending Marc?  If anything had happened to Conor, I swear Hayes would have learned the true meaning of revenge.  Luckily, Nic showed up in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, add my brother to the list of people Hayes owes.  Nic arrived like the cavalry, complete with reinforcements.  He had to call in many favors to round up the army he had in tow, so it's not only Nic that Marc is indebted too.  Bet he hates knowing that dozens of demons are the only reason we're all still alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then there's my dad.  Marc, that idiot, refused to leave Orcus without Alzbeta.  Loyalty is a good thing, but what he should have done was leave the Other World when Conor told him to do so.  It would have been easier for Alzbeta to remain hidden while I contacted my dad to do a summoning than it was for &lt;strong&gt;Hayes&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; Alzbeta.  Because he's human anyone who stumbled into the vicinity would detect him and wonder over it.  But no, Marc refused to cross the veil without her.  Convincing my dad to pull a Dark One out of Orcus wasn't easy, but he did it--eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At the end of all this mess, I asked Marc the one question I'm sure he didn't want to hear:  Did it make the loss of his sister any easier to bear now that he'd killed those who were responsible for her death?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He didn't answer me, but he doesn't have to--we both know the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114377360142359493?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114377360142359493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114377360142359493' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114377360142359493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114377360142359493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/gangs-all-here.html' title='The Gang&apos;s All Here'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114368815998064738</id><published>2006-03-29T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-29T19:09:20.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Disaster is spelled M O M</title><content type='html'>Mom called. She and Toni are arriving at LAX on Sunday. She's all excited about converting and having me show her the ropes. Great. I think she actually expects me to bite them. I told Noah we're moving to Santa Monica and he thinks I'm joking. He's never met my mom. I'm going to introduce them to the liar cheater liar dog. Toni's blonde. That should turn him on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114368815998064738?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114368815998064738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114368815998064738' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114368815998064738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114368815998064738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/disaster-is-spelled-m-o-m.html' title='Disaster is spelled M O M'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114356916124144954</id><published>2006-03-28T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T10:07:24.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Job</title><content type='html'>Last night, I summoned Nic from Orcus and explained the situation to him.  He had no news on Mika or her mate either, but he's back in the underworld now to look for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting is difficult, but the sense of helplessness I feel is worse.  She's my daughter--I should be able to do something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114356916124144954?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114356916124144954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114356916124144954' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114356916124144954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114356916124144954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/on-job.html' title='On the Job'/><author><name>David Noguchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14366522311447950817</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114343072412377352</id><published>2006-03-26T19:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-26T19:38:44.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My life officially sucks</title><content type='html'>Let's see. I got dumped by the lying cheater alpha for some chick who isn't even a wolf. I'm not even sure I like being werewolf. Most of the time it's borrrring. Plus, moved in with Noah, the liar alpha's Beta wolf and found out I hate strata -1. I hate it! There's no windows and everybody thinks they can push us around. I told my mom I converted so she'd just leave me alone and out of the wedding, but today she emailed me that she and her girlfriend &amp;quot;Toni&amp;quot; have decided to come here and convert, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great. Just great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114343072412377352?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114343072412377352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114343072412377352' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114343072412377352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114343072412377352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-life-officially-sucks.html' title='My life officially sucks'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114324957609088114</id><published>2006-03-24T17:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T17:19:36.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn</title><content type='html'>Mika went into Orcus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I irritated her by setting her up with human men before she mated with McCabe, but there was a reason for that--I wanted my daughter in the Overworld.  Even though she chose a half-demon male, I was confident that her trips would be curtailed.  After all, her husband hates demons and he didn't like Mika traipsing into the Other World anymore than I did.  Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, they &lt;strong&gt;both&lt;/strong&gt; went to Orcus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting for news from my sources, but no one who's spoken to me has more information to pass along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114324957609088114?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114324957609088114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114324957609088114' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114324957609088114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114324957609088114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/damn.html' title='Damn'/><author><name>David Noguchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14366522311447950817</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114309340582539530</id><published>2006-03-22T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T21:56:45.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>The young woman who was converted against her wishes has vanished. Again. This is insupportable. Must I do everything myself? Family Korzha is going to re-org if she isn't found. Make it so, people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claudia continues to increase. I find it charming. She's starting to talk about being fat. It's useless to argue with her so I don't. Much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114309340582539530?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114309340582539530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114309340582539530' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114309340582539530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114309340582539530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>Tiber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09220079576021030403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114291751778399572</id><published>2006-03-20T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-21T22:00:48.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leader of the Pack</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#3399ff;border-top:medium dotted #ff00cc; border-right:medium dotted #99ff00; border-bottom:medium dotted #ff99cc; border-left:medium dotted #66ff00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#99ff66; border:medium dashed #993399; color:#003333; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;My pack is settled now. We've been through our first moon. The irritating babe is too pissed off to talk to me and now she's in with my Beta (good doggie!) Demons are getting scarce around here, but old necro, he knows where a few of them are hiding. I'm working on a deal with the ones who are left. Dogs and demons vs. Fangs. I'm gonna run this town. Still waiting to see if a demon can go dog. Last night, just for old times sake, I followed a rogue fang who was following a blonde chick. Snack time. Which reminds me it's time for Jonny to go bite something Red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Can you believe that Kimi chick? &lt;em&gt;High pitched squeal&lt;/em&gt; Is that coffee I smell? &lt;em&gt;End high pitched squeal&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, yeah babe. Say, you want Jonny to take care of your demon problem for you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114291751778399572?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114291751778399572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114291751778399572' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114291751778399572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114291751778399572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/leader-of-pack.html' title='Leader of the Pack'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114280055735072801</id><published>2006-03-19T12:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-19T12:35:57.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!</title><content type='html'>I just discovered that Aunt Laryn is a demon!  That means Nic is too because he's her son.  And Mika.  OMG!  I can't believe it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114280055735072801?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114280055735072801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114280055735072801' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114280055735072801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114280055735072801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/omg.html' title='OMG!'/><author><name>Kimiko Noguchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17342786942656955139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/kimi2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114265530477885806</id><published>2006-03-17T19:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T20:15:04.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where there's an downside, there's also an upside</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 5px;"&gt;Oh, my. So, Aslet and I are back together. And like I said before, it's not what I expected. What I expected was he'd start listening to me about how his slobby ways drive me nuts and because he loves me, he'd clean up his act. That did not happen. He still leaves those damn guns all over the place, his shoes are still wherever he was when he took them off. Life with him is definately not perfect. Now to the real upside downside. The bonding, that scared the hell out of me when I realized what it did to me. Hell, what it did to the both of us. But he wanted me to do this and I kept thinking, he wants &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;, you know? Not some other woman, but me. So I agreed. This is hard to explain. I'm part of him now. It would be wildly inaccurate to say that he is a part of me. This bonding thing doesn't work like that, which I should have known. He's a dominant Elismal, expressing the dark powers and with a command of those powers that I didn't understand until now. And, he's not just a dominent Elismal, but THE dominant one, and he didn't get that way by accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making love now, wow. It's like I never really knew how until I was bonded to him. It's mind-blowing. And, I'm it for him. Meaning, he won't be with any other woman except me. I did not ask for that responsibility. Deep breath here. He took me to Orcus, and it was like I was a status symbol for him. We got back just in time, and now it's not clear he'll ever be able to go home. And he did that for me. Because he knew if we got stuck in Orcus, I'd never be happy. So, I guess his shoes on the floor aren't a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114265530477885806?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114265530477885806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114265530477885806' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114265530477885806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114265530477885806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/where-theres-downside-theres-also.html' title='Where there&apos;s an downside, there&apos;s also an upside'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114248621740316913</id><published>2006-03-15T21:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T21:16:57.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday and the Moon</title><content type='html'>I changed! ohMYGwadd! This is awesome. Lying cheating liar dog wasn't there and I'm just peachy with that. The guy who was with me was so totally cool I can't even begin to tell you. I love this. My new friend says I need to go live with the pack, but the heck with that.  I'm pretty tired so I'm going to bed early tonight. With my new friend.  Ta!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114248621740316913?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114248621740316913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114248621740316913' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114248621740316913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114248621740316913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/yesterday-and-moon.html' title='Yesterday and the Moon'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114240221045418537</id><published>2006-03-14T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T21:56:50.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>P.S. To Dear Mika Freaka</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#666666;border-top:medium dotted #cccccc; border-right:medium dotted #dddddd; border-bottom:medium dotted #333333; border-left:medium dotted #999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#000000; border:medium dashed #cccccc; color:#ffffff; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;You want I should take care of that demon chick your B-Ops Bozo is hanging with? One time offer, Ms Smarty Advice Freak -- I'll do her for free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I know where they are?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114240221045418537?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114240221045418537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114240221045418537' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114240221045418537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114240221045418537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/ps-to-dear-mika-freaka.html' title='P.S. To Dear Mika Freaka'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114240203049890788</id><published>2006-03-14T21:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-14T21:53:50.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Freaking Freaks Check the Sky!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#666666;border-top:medium dotted #cccccc; border-right:medium dotted #dddddd; border-bottom:medium dotted #333333; border-left:medium dotted #999999;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#000000; border:medium dashed #cccccc; color:#ffffff; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;It's the moon tonight and I got a lotta stuff to do before I go natural. Just a quick note that I took over the former Durant pack and then ran off all the boring normals. I have a high beta likes to hunt in the Lower, pre-arrangements made. We're a special interest pack. Business is hot. The chick I converted is about to find out what it's like to get furry but my beta's going to hang with her tonight and supervise the big C on account of she said some crap that pissed me off. We had a business relationship, and now she wants to go all sappy. Gag me. Baby, that emotional shit is tiresome. Meanwhile, I saw a few demons get their asses kicked the other night. I bit one when he was down and I think I'm going to go see if they do the Moon Howl Dance. I could use a demon dog. I bit him really hard, and guess what? I found out I like that demon blood. Yum. There's some demon's going down tonight, I can feel it in my necro bones. I'm going looking for a blonde demon-chick and see what they're like for a snack.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114240203049890788?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114240203049890788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114240203049890788' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114240203049890788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114240203049890788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/all-freaking-freaks-check-sky.html' title='All Freaking Freaks Check the Sky!'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114230427207192480</id><published>2006-03-13T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T18:44:32.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blood Bonds</title><content type='html'>I'm going to bond with Alzbeta--it's the only way I can enter the underworld.  We've got the gold chalice and the dagger.  All systems are a go.  I just need to avoid the McCabes until it's all done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mika and McCabe were worried Alzbeta would hurt me if she found out what I was up to.  They were wrong.  Demons--the Bak-Faru at least--love revenge.  After we perform the bonding ritual and cross into Orcus, she's going to help me find and kill those responsible for my sister's death.  March 14th 23:35--that's the next full moon.  Alzbeta says that's the best time to perform the ritual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I finally begin to make good on my promise to avenge my sister.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114230427207192480?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114230427207192480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114230427207192480' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114230427207192480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114230427207192480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/blood-bonds.html' title='Blood Bonds'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114222210520485220</id><published>2006-03-12T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T19:55:05.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's a Girl Gotta do to Get Converted Around Here?</title><content type='html'>I was hanging out last night and I'm pretty sure I saw a demon. He looked exactly like what the liar wolf said the bad ones look like. So I followed him. But I couldn't keep up. He just disappeared on me. By then, I was in a pretty bad neighborhood and didn't really know where I was. I found a bus stop and decided to wait there. (yeah, like a bus ever comes in this city) and some doped up freak comes along and starts hassling me. Right before I was going to kick him in the nards, a fang shows up. At first I was scared because he came from absolutely nowhere, I swear. But then  I remembered, hey, I'm on a mission and this is not a bad thing. The fang scares off the doper and I figure, this is it. He was a total babe with green eyes like you wouldn't believe. I was so ready! I'll do anything, I said. Anything at all, if you'll convert me, because my life is just so totally in the tank, I don't think I can stand to be human even five more minutes.  I get hit on all the time. All the time! I know I look good. Guys like the package.  So get this, the hunky fang gets me a cab, gives me his card, and sends me home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave $500 to Jonny to convert me, plus did all the other sicko stuff with him, so there's no way I can pay the other guy now. The paper is full of stories about people getting converted without asking, and demons swooping down and taking people away, and if you read The Post, there's nothing but stories about how demons are sex fiends. How come &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;can't get converted when I'm trying to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and when I got home, I found the vamp's card and it said Tiberiu Korzha. The hottest fang in the whole freaking city, the one who plays with humans all the time, and he freaking won't convert me? I must have a sign on my forehead (and my back) that says &lt;em&gt;pathetic loser&lt;/em&gt; on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114222210520485220?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114222210520485220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114222210520485220' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114222210520485220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114222210520485220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/whats-girl-gotta-do-to-get-converted.html' title='What&apos;s a Girl Gotta do to Get Converted Around Here?'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114213209948290310</id><published>2006-03-11T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-11T18:56:59.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hangdog hangover</title><content type='html'>Oh, God, I am so hungover. My head feels like it's going to explode. I was doing suicide squeezes with some friends (equal parts of all the liquor in the house) when Mom called. Dad is still living with the boob job babe. Mom's yoga teacher is moving in. Did I mention her yoga teacher is a woman? Tonia.  I asked if Tonia had a boob job, too, and then Mom got all mad. My sister called in tears about the wedding and the baby shower, but I told her to stop calling me. I'm still mad at Jonny. I think I might have gone off on him, but I'm not sure. A lot of last night is a blur. Tonight I'm going trawling and whoever finds me first, fang or demon, I'm getting it done. Did I mention I'm posting this from my cell phone? Jonny told me what to look for before I stopped talking to lying cheating liars. I see a guy across the street and so, you know, ta!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114213209948290310?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114213209948290310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114213209948290310' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114213209948290310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114213209948290310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/hangdog-hangover.html' title='hangdog hangover'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114203932091886909</id><published>2006-03-10T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T17:08:40.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spttting Mad</title><content type='html'>I just found out Necro Jonny Cheater Wolf has a girlfriend. He didn't admit it when I asked him, but I could tell. The sleaze. I hate him. I hate my life. Forget about converting to dog. It didn't work when the BIG FAT CHEATER did it. I'm going fang. Or maybe I'll convince one of those demons to do that stuff I've been hearing about. That's it. I'm going to live with the demons and forget all about lying cheating big fat liar cheaters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114203932091886909?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114203932091886909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114203932091886909' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114203932091886909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114203932091886909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/spttting-mad.html' title='Spttting Mad'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114198850665527401</id><published>2006-03-10T02:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-10T03:04:23.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Check In</title><content type='html'>Hayes, where the hell are you?  Nat says no one's seen you in a week.  Check in.  I don't have time to hunt for you again, but I will if I don't hear something--and I'll be pissed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114198850665527401?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114198850665527401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114198850665527401' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114198850665527401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114198850665527401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/check-in.html' title='Check In'/><author><name>McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15251668261158207430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/C_fire.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114192907496059364</id><published>2006-03-09T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-09T10:31:14.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YIPPEEEEEEE!!!!!</title><content type='html'>It's Jade Lee breaking character with a big THANK YOU!!!!  Because of you wonderful fans, Seduced by Crimson just made 128 on the USA Today Bestseller list!!!!  It's below Eragon but above Who Moved My Cheese?  And isn't that an interesting place to be.  I don't care!  I'm THRIILLED!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THANK YOU!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114192907496059364?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114192907496059364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114192907496059364' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114192907496059364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114192907496059364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/yippeeeeeee.html' title='YIPPEEEEEEE!!!!!'/><author><name>Jade Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00527318200926371418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114187014708831669</id><published>2006-03-08T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-08T18:11:39.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Families--Take Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;When I read Conor's post about families, I never thought I'd be making one of my own.  Some of what happened was expected.  As upset as Kimi was with me, I wasn't surprised by her cold shoulder.  Hurt?  Yes, but not taken off guard.  Maybe I better hit the highlights in chronological order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;McCabe and I went up to San Francisco early to spend some time with my parents.  I'd gotten over the shock of their elopement and we were having a pretty good time.  We all went out to dinner, Mom and I went shopping, and Dad took Conor to the driving range.  McCabe, BTW, does not golf, but that didn't stop Dad.  I think my mate had a good time.  I know my dad wasn't thrilled at first with the idea of Conor and I being a couple--he was hoping I'd fall in love with a human--but he was hardly in a position to object after marrying my mom in Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Conor's never had much in the way of family--or anyone who's really loved him.  I wanted to share mine with him, wanted him to feel as if he belonged.  I think the outing with my dad was a big step in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My dad finished the redecorating I started on my suite this summer.  It turned out nice and when Conor felt overwhelmed by the Noguchi clan, we could retreat there and cuddle.  No one looking at McCabe or hearing him grumble would realize how much he likes to do that, but I know and that's what counts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was a good start.  Then Friday night came.  Family night.  Kimi's coolness toward me was noticeable, but she's been mad at me before.  Not a huge deal.  Except I was a bit upset by it and wasn't watching myself closely enough.  Grandma N heard me call my mom "Mom."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My mom is a Mahsei demon.  We age differently than humans, and even though Mom looks about my age, she's much older.  Grandma N immediately became suspicious and started probing.  She's a force to be reckoned with and I love her dearly; the last thing I want to do was lie to my grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Despite my two families meeting at my wedding, and my mom and half brother staying with my Dad for a while, no one on my human side had been told my mom &lt;strong&gt;was&lt;/strong&gt; my mom.  I never really thought about why, but I guess because Dad didn't want everyone to know I was half Mahsei.  Or that he had the ability to call demons forth from Orcus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So now Grandma N is worried that my mom might be a fang or something, and while she wasn't happy about my 45-year-old father marrying a seemingly much younger woman, she was even less pleased at the idea of Mom being a vampire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course, I didn't realize most of this until it was just Grandma and Grandpa, Mom and Dad, and me and Conor.  Then Grandma went for some answers.  Do I need to tell you her reaction when she discovered that Mom was a demon?  Suddenly a vampiress for a daughter-in-law looked good.  It wasn't the most pleasant family gathering of all time, but I love my Grandma.  She put her hand on my arm on her way out the door and said she loved me and that she always would, demon blood or no demon blood.  My grandma Noguchi is a very special woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Saturday night was the big wedding celebration with not just family, but friends and business associates of my father's as well.  Kimi was still snubbing me, but everything else went well.  Conor dances!  I never, ever would have guessed it.  My mate holding me close as we danced to the band was by far the highlight of the trip.  That and the wild sex we had when we got back to my--our--rooms that night.  I still buzz when I think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then came Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was a quiet, lazy day.  My dad started a subscription to the &lt;em&gt;Crimson Post&lt;/em&gt; after I married Conor so that he could keep up with the news.  I did the crossword puzzle, Mom read the latest news out of Hollywood, Dad had the business section and Conor took sports.  I felt content, happy, just plain good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My parents dropped the bombshell when we went to dinner that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Even that was pleasant.  Until dessert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Surprise, Mika, you're going to be a big sister.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;To say I was stunned is putting it mildly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm being selfish--probably.  I mean if Nic got used to having a baby sister when he was in his twenties, I can get used to my parents having another baby too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But my parents didn't get married when I was conceived.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's stupid.  I know it's stupid.  My dad was only twenty then, things are different now, but it feels as if I wasn't important enough for them to marry for my sake.  It was difficult being shuttled between Orcus and the human world.  If they'd married, lived together I wouldn't have needed to do that.  And I would have had both my parents with me.  I'm not going to get into the other things that are roiling through my mind.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Conor stepped in, handled the scene at the restaurant and got me out of there.  And when we got back to our rooms, he held me and listened to me and he never, not even once said I was being ridiculous.  I know I am.  I know.  But I can't seem to help it.  I don't know how my mate can be so endlessly patient with me sometimes, but he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have at least two dozen messages from my dad and I just can't return them.  I want to be happy for him and Mom when I talk to him, and I'm not.  Not yet.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wish I could talk to Nic, ask him if this is how he felt when he found out I was coming along.  But I can't.  Conor would insist on going into Orcus with me and he'd likely get killed.  I can't sneak in either.  After the last time I did that, McCabe asked me to promise him that I wouldn't do that again.  Demon's never break their word.  And of course, I don't have the ability to call Nic out of the Other World and I wouldn't trust some human to do it. I won't endanger my brother or my mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;McCabe insists that once I have a little time to absorb it all, assimilate it, that I won't feel this way, but then Conor believes I'm a better person than I really am.  It's one of the reasons why I love him so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114187014708831669?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114187014708831669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114187014708831669' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114187014708831669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114187014708831669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/families-take-two.html' title='Families--Take Two'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114178019272251484</id><published>2006-03-07T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:09:52.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This isn't what I thought it would be</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 5px;"&gt;I did it. I let Aslet bind me, and now it's like I live in a different world now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114178019272251484?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114178019272251484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114178019272251484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114178019272251484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114178019272251484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/this-isnt-what-i-thought-it-would-be.html' title='This isn&apos;t what I thought it would be'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114177972612241914</id><published>2006-03-07T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T17:02:06.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Elminated but not so Tidy.</title><content type='html'>Merde. I dislike untidy endings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The vamp who had the young woman met with a &lt;b&gt;most&lt;/b&gt; unfortunate accident. If only I had arrived sooner, I might have saved him. Alas. I have notified his next of kin. It was the least I could do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the woman in question has been converted and, it would seem, very much against her wishes. I've met with Fleur Dumont to discuss what happened. What a waste. There was little to say except the vampire responsible is dead at the hands of a person (and I use that term loosely) or persons unknown, and she is now a vampire and will likely soon be rogue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did not die horribly enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114177972612241914?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114177972612241914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114177972612241914' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114177972612241914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114177972612241914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/elminated-but-not-so-tidy.html' title='Elminated but not so Tidy.'/><author><name>Tiber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09220079576021030403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114169351282157786</id><published>2006-03-06T17:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T17:05:12.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Countdown</title><content type='html'>You have three hours left. You chose whether you live or die after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind Regards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiber&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114169351282157786?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114169351282157786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114169351282157786' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114169351282157786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114169351282157786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/countdown.html' title='Countdown'/><author><name>Tiber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09220079576021030403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114161519035348923</id><published>2006-03-05T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-05T19:19:50.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogs and Demons</title><content type='html'>Korzha Enterprises, LLC has been approached by a party who shall remain unnamed. Said party wishes to retrieve a relative kidnapped by a highly unsavory character and subsequently liberated by a vampire only slighly more savory. Happens I know the vamp in question and he -- or she -- is damned lucky to have survived at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're on notice. Let the woman go or I'm coming after you. You have my cell. Call it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty-four hours and counting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114161519035348923?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114161519035348923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114161519035348923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114161519035348923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114161519035348923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/dogs-and-demons.html' title='Dogs and Demons'/><author><name>Tiber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09220079576021030403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114151510182287717</id><published>2006-03-04T15:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T15:31:41.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Quiet?</title><content type='html'>Let me make a few things clear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am not sulking&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am not an idiot&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am not incompetent&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am not thinking with my "little head" (Do you really talk like that, Mika?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Somehow I've managed to survive thirty-one years without the two of you giving me advice.  Neither of you has said more than ten words to Alzbeta, so you're hardly the world's foremost authorities on what she will or won't do.  I hear the protests already, so don't bother to point out she's a dark demon.  It's been said and doesn't need to be repeated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To put it more tactfully, I appreciate your concern.  I'll keep your cautions in mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114151510182287717?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114151510182287717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114151510182287717' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114151510182287717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114151510182287717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/too-quiet.html' title='Too Quiet?'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114144184700437985</id><published>2006-03-03T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T19:10:47.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Right Decision</title><content type='html'>Lenore agreed she should let me bind her to me so that she will never want any male but me. It took a very long time to convince her I do not want any female but her, but if she is not bound to me, because she is not my vishtau mate, we might be forced apart. With the binding, she is mine and that will never change. There is a Bak Faru demon who was trapped here for a very long time when the portal was sealed, and he gave me a spell that allows a demon, if he is powerful enough, to make a child with a human woman and I have done this, too. Lenore is my heart now, and I will take her to Orcus so that my son is born in his world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114144184700437985?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114144184700437985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114144184700437985' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114144184700437985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114144184700437985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/right-decision.html' title='The Right Decision'/><author><name>Aslet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16340175851067237769</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/25/66308929_5a4f098e15_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114144112820740070</id><published>2006-03-03T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T18:58:48.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I even alive?</title><content type='html'>I have been sick as a dog for nearly a month. I did the EPT - nugatory on that, thank god. I don't know how this conversion thing works, all I know is I'm still the same crappy human loser I always was. Luckily at work, I said I'd read ALL the slush if they let me take it home and read it. Bingo. I've rejected 741 screenplays, 345 TV scripts and set aside 2 to give to my boss to look at. Some of this stuff worse than reeks. I saved all the nudie shots because I know El Boss wants those. So, yeah. OK. My mom keeps calling and bugging me. Now she thinks I should marry my med student roommate. Hellooo! He's gay, Mom. He'd rather marry Dad, OK? And speaking of dear old Dad, he's still with his Admin. Turns out he paid for her boob job. My sister is still knocked up. She sent me a picture of the bridesmaid gown I'm supposed to wear. Maybe that's why I'm sick. I saw Jonny the other day and he said March 29 (that's the full moon, he says) he'll come over and watch all of Firefly on DVD with me, unless I die from rabies in the meantime. The jerk. What if that's what's wrong with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114144112820740070?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114144112820740070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114144112820740070' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114144112820740070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114144112820740070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/am-i-even-alive.html' title='Am I even alive?'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114133395932791166</id><published>2006-03-02T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-02T13:12:39.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jade Lee goes off the deep end</title><content type='html'>Hello all!  It's Jade Lee and I'm at a bookstore where &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seduced by Crimson&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is actually on the shelves.  I just got my author copies a couple days ago, so it shouldn't surprise me to see the book up for sale.   It shouldn't, but it does.  My god, I can't believe this book is finally out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came late to the Crimson City party.  I so wanted to be a part of it, but had other deadlines.  And then, miracle of miracles, things changed (as often happens in publishing) and voila, I was offered a spot.  I tried to play it cool.  Really, I did.  I said, "Hmm, let me think about--okay."  My agent was cringing in the background calculating how much bargaining power I had just given up as I began to happy dance about the room.  Okay...I didn't really get up and happy dance.  My legs did it all by themselves where I sat at the table.  Bouncy bouncy legs.  Grinning Jade.  Sighing agent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then...bam, I was writing and writing and writing and LOVING EVERY SECOND.  I haven't felt that way since...well, since ever.  This book allowed me to do everything I wanted--humor, sensuality (okay, SEX!), and action adventure.  It had a kick-ass world that I could expand if I wanted and great people to write with.  I still can't believe I got the opportunity.  And even better?  It's now a reality!  The book is out!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wheee!!!!!!!  (Yes, Jade has gone off the deep end--diving straight into giddy with a side of happy dance that--truthfully--looks rather stupid.  But wow is she happy....)  Yippeeeee!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114133395932791166?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114133395932791166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114133395932791166' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114133395932791166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114133395932791166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/03/jade-lee-goes-off-deep-end.html' title='Jade Lee goes off the deep end'/><author><name>Jade Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00527318200926371418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114118116782038380</id><published>2006-02-28T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T18:59:22.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Families</title><content type='html'>Our flight to SFO is delayed.  Mika is taking the wait in stride.  Me?  I'd rather be going somewhere rather than just sitting here.  The only thing that's making it bearable is that she's reading Cosmo and it has an article titled: Ten Tongue Tricks to Drive Him Wild.  She keeps asking what I think.  What I think is that if she keeps this up, I'm going to pull her into a storage closet.  I'd mention that, but damn it, not only wouldn't it faze her, but she'd probably &lt;strong&gt;want&lt;/strong&gt; to do it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry.  Distracted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So families.  Mika was devastated when she found out her parents had gotten married in Vegas without telling her.  Absolutely devastated.  She cried in my arms.  Mika &lt;strong&gt;never&lt;/strong&gt; cries.  It took her days to return to her usual self.  Yeah, her teasing drives me nuts sometimes, but there's something worse than that--Mika being solemn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here we are at the airport, flying up a few days early for her parents' wedding reception.  Her dad called and she starts packing--that easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, it's okay.  Mika is loyal and when she loves, she puts her whole self into it.  Makes me feel better.  But the way they hurt her...  How can she forgive so easily?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I forgave her when she lied to me, but it wasn't something that happened easily.  Shit, she had to take a blast and nearly die before I could get past the hurt.  But Mika, I don't know, it's like her heart is so big or something.  She loves her family, especially her parents, and so she puts the hurt behind her and forgives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of me wishes I could do that--and I would for Mika--I'd forgive my mate anything.  But not my father.  That bastard keeps popping up, and every time it happens, Mika wants to talk about how I feel.  She never likes my answer--I feel torn between wanting to kill him and my promise not to do that.  What more does she want me to say?  The son of a bitch raped my mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother, well, she's never forgiven me for being born.  Hell, for even being conceived.  Like that was my fault.  She didn't exactly set a pattern of compassion for me to follow.  She never hugged me, never touched me, and wouldn't even look at me if she could avoid it.  Then, without warning, the day I turned 18 she told me to get out of her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So no, I don't understand Mika's easy forgiveness.  Part of me worries that others will take advantage of her, but I'll watch over her and make certain that doesn't happen.  Another part of me envies her.  To be that secure, that sure of her parents' love that even the blow she suffered wasn't enough to annihilate the flame.  She's lucky.  And I'm lucky she loves me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're starting to board our flight and Mika is whispering about joining the mile high club.  Damn, I wonder if they ban couples from an airline for life?  It would be worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114118116782038380?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114118116782038380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114118116782038380' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114118116782038380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114118116782038380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/families.html' title='Families'/><author><name>McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15251668261158207430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/C_fire.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114109756743062394</id><published>2006-02-27T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T19:34:38.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate G</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#990066;border-top:medium dotted #ff00cc; border-right:medium dotted #66ff00; border-bottom:medium dotted #cccccc; border-left:medium dotted #ff6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#33ff33; border:medium dashed #993399; color:#003333; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;So, G finds me the other night and he tells me he needs me to do something for him. So I said, F-U just on general principles. I'm supposed to do some vamp chick that's giving him trouble. F-Ux2, I said. And then he tries some of that demon crap on me only I'm hip to that now so I was feeling nasty and I bit him before he could do much. I didn't manage to crush his throat. He was a little nicer after that encounter though. He seems to have forgotten how much we have in common. How long did Fly-Low force him to stay in the dead chick's body? Way too long.I freaking did that d-boy a favor, and he comes to me pulling that shit. No thank you. He wants a vamp chick dead he can get his own damn stake. I'm busy building my pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114109756743062394?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114109756743062394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114109756743062394' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114109756743062394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114109756743062394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-hate-g.html' title='I hate G'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114092551104683590</id><published>2006-02-25T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T19:59:42.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've just made things worse</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 5px;"&gt;I was going through some of the offers for freelance work, about a hundred in the last week, and someone knocked on the door. I ignored it because I was busy feeling sorry for myself over seeing Aslet. It's been a little easier every day until today. At the bar, he just looked so -- shit. Everything that made me sleep with him in the first place. He's gorgeous. I didn't say this before, but when he saw me, he stood up (he was sitting at the bar, where you can watch who comes in) and I pretended like I never noticed him. I was heading for one of the tables, but he cut me off and put his hand on my shoulder. I could feel the heat all the way to my toes. Can you say Miserable all over again? Can you say, I fucked up again? Because instead of telling him I was sorry, I turned around and walked out. It was a really grand exit but I cried in the car all the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home, like I said. And I ignored whoever the hell was at the door. Only it was Aslet. He melted the deadbolts and came in anyway. And here's the thing. I was done being mad. Just, you know, done with that. And he sat down on my bed and took out this wrapped up box about the size of a brick, I guess. I know he wrapped it himself because he used way too much tape. &amp;quot;I went back to Orcus,&amp;quot; he said. "And I brought this back for you. My grandfather gave this my grandmother, his vishtau mate. I wish for you to have this now." It's the most beautiful inlaid box I've never seen in my life. Inside, there was a tiny golden cup and a golden knife. I've read descriptions of them before but I've never actually seen one. They're used in binding rituals, in case you don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me he was sorry to have behaved as he did. He said he did not understand the ways in which human women are different from demon females. He told me how the binding ritual works. Then he put the box on the floor and we made love. Yeah, monumentally stupid. Monumentally fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114092551104683590?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114092551104683590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114092551104683590' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114092551104683590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114092551104683590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/ive-just-made-things-worse.html' title='I&apos;ve just made things worse'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114089451431046569</id><published>2006-02-25T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T11:08:34.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's killing me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 5px;"&gt;Whatever. First off, my client died the other day which I didn't find out until after I'd decided to return his fee. Got to his house and the police were there with the crime scene tape. Seems he had a different enemy he shoulda been watching out for. Word is it was a fang that did him. While I was telling the police about my client, the demon went and got my client's sister. I don't know where she is or where he took her. It's been 24 hours and no body. Yet. Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at the bar and Aslet was there. I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114089451431046569?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114089451431046569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114089451431046569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114089451431046569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114089451431046569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-killing-me.html' title='It&apos;s killing me'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114083674691075128</id><published>2006-02-24T18:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T19:09:02.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hide and Seek</title><content type='html'>McCabe and Mika found me last night.  I don't know how they managed to track me down to the casino floor at the Flamingo--particularly since I've been doing my best to evade them--but they did it.  I didn't even see or sense either one of them coming until they had Alzbeta and me hemmed in at the craps table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought there was going to be a shoot out, two demon chicks fighting with whatever weird weapons they had.  Yeah, I know what Alzbeta is.  I eventually figured it out.  I'm still dealing with the guilt, but I can't give her up.  Not yet.  Besides, I have this idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we're all back in Crimson City.  McCabe and I are trying to figure out how I should deal with B-Ops and Mika and Alzbeta are keeping a wary distance.  Shit, if I didn't know both women so well, I'd think they were afraid of each other.  WTF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's best to get things straightened out with the job before I put my plan into action.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114083674691075128?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114083674691075128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114083674691075128' title='52 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114083674691075128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114083674691075128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/hide-and-seek.html' title='Hide and Seek'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>52</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114066710320928267</id><published>2006-02-22T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T19:58:23.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The tat is back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#ff6633;border-top:medium dotted #ff9933; border-right:medium dotted #ff9900; border-bottom:medium dotted #ff99cc; border-left:medium dotted #ff9900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#000000; border:thin dotted #ff3333; color:#ffffff; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;So tomorrow I'm doing a tat for this red chick. But not on her back. My gentlemanly nature prohibits me from talking about I get in return, but I have a three page list and it involves one of us being very happy for a really long time. This morning I met with the management again. Hot damn, those demons can fight.  Woof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114066710320928267?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114066710320928267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114066710320928267' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114066710320928267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114066710320928267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/tat-is-back.html' title='The tat is back'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114045242637821556</id><published>2006-02-20T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T08:20:26.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bells Are Ringing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm in shock or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tonight, I saw my mom and dad coming out of the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel. They'd gotten married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Neither one of them had even hinted that things were this serious between them, and my mom can't keep a secret to save her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can't believe they didn't invite me. I mean, I can maybe see eloping and leaving the rest of the family out of it, but me? A Tom Jones impersonator was there, but not their own daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I just can't believe this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114045242637821556?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114045242637821556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114045242637821556' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114045242637821556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114045242637821556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/bells-are-ringing.html' title='Bells Are Ringing'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114031946299823807</id><published>2006-02-18T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T19:24:23.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>After the full moon</title><content type='html'>I don't feel any different. Not a bit. I'm just sore where he bit me.  My mom says she's coming to visit, but I talked her out of it. There's a lot of shit going on here she should just stay out of.  I'm not convinced it took, if you know what I mean. Jonny says it did, but I think he just wanted to have perverted sex, which we did. Anyway, to top it all off, I think I'm getting the flu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114031946299823807?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114031946299823807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114031946299823807' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114031946299823807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114031946299823807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/after-full-moon.html' title='After the full moon'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114031873159425047</id><published>2006-02-18T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T19:13:59.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Females in the Overworld</title><content type='html'>I do not understand human females. No demon female would be angry with me or refuse to speak with me as Lenore has done. My heart has not been the same. I want her and only her. I have done everything a female requires. I mated with her and no others and I told her many times how much she pleased me. For a human female, she mates well, and I want to feel her body and see her face and touch her until she cries out for me. I want to care for her and protect her. I have spoken to many humans, male and female, even the half human Mahsei female. They say I cannot kill the human male she was with even though he deserves it. Instead I agreed to send her to his home when he was with another female. This was a most excellent idea. Lenore will not see him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still wish to bind her to me but the Mahsei half-human insists I must not do so against her will. If Lenore were a demon female, it would make no difference. She would want to mate with a demon powerful enough to bind her. Another female told me I should give her a gift she does not expect, a gift that will prove I understand what things she longs to possess. She likes small and delicate items, things which are beautifully made. We have many such things in Orcus and I have brought one back for her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114031873159425047?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114031873159425047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114031873159425047' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114031873159425047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114031873159425047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/females-in-overworld.html' title='Females in the Overworld'/><author><name>Aslet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16340175851067237769</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/25/66308929_5a4f098e15_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-114018751656431639</id><published>2006-02-17T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T17:16:40.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From Patrick Lewis' Journal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;From The Hollywood Reporter&lt;br /&gt;MIRACLE OPENING!&lt;br /&gt;December 1, 1992 – By Howard Berns&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hollywood's elite celebrated in style yesterday in a most unusual gala opening. Miracles by Jason, another health spa for the rich and famous, opened it doors with glittering fanfare. With a client list that includes the most powerful in a city of power brokers, Jason charges equally astronomical prices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what exactly are his services? That, apparently, is a mystery to all but those who pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We offer health and energy miracles," claimed Jason, who declined to give his last name. "My customers are very satisfied."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And indeed they are, if the turnout is anything to judge by. But only time will tell if Miracles by Jason survives past the initial faddish nature of Hollywood or fades into obscurity like yesterday's glitter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-114018751656431639?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/114018751656431639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=114018751656431639' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114018751656431639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/114018751656431639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/from-patrick-lewis-journal.html' title='From Patrick Lewis&apos; Journal'/><author><name>Jade Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00527318200926371418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113997473474553380</id><published>2006-02-14T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T19:38:54.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight, I'm feeling better</title><content type='html'>Tiber has been driving me insane for quite a while, what with treating me like I'm some kind of Ming vase tottering up there on the shelf about to fall. I swear, I was ready to hit him upside the head just for a moment's peace from &amp;quot;Do you need anything, sweetie?&amp;quot; or &amp;quot;Are you all right?&amp;quot; or &amp;quot;Should you be doing that? -- let me do that&amp;quot; and whoosh done. Argh! The doctor said I'm fine as can be, but that I could use a little exercise. (Take that, Tiber!) We heard the heartbeat and Tiber just went absolutely still. But he held my hand tight and I knew he didn't say anything because, like me, if he did, he'd cry just from feeling so much. We also talked about whether I wanted to know what the baby is, you know, vampire, human or demon. Notice the &lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;. Tiber really doesn't care. He doesn't. So, I don't want to know either. Not yet, anyway. At night or if we're snoozing on the couch or something, he talks to the baby. We went to the store, me, Tiber and Holly, and picked out colors for the baby's room and we've all three started making lists of names. We've been going to Lamaze classes, too. When I was pregnant with Holly, I was all by myself. There wasn't anybody fussing over me or asking if I felt OK or if I wanted anything. And there wasn't anybody but me talking to the baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when he comes into the room, I can't believe it's Tiberiu Korzha who just walked in or that he loves me. But he does. And I love him, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113997473474553380?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113997473474553380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113997473474553380' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113997473474553380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113997473474553380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/tonight-im-feeling-better.html' title='Tonight, I&apos;m feeling better'/><author><name>Claudia Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04169296869287071413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113997369642188484</id><published>2006-02-14T19:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T19:21:36.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Full Moon Woof</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#ff3333;border-top:medium dotted #ff00cc; border-right:medium dotted #66ff00; border-bottom:medium dotted #cccccc; border-left:medium dotted #ff6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#663366; border:thin dotted #ff3333; color:#ffffff; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;Last night was the freaky deaky no doubt about it one in a billion jonny hearts crimson city and the full moon best night of my life. Bring it on. The necrodog is taking all comers. I'll do anybody anytime anywhere. Including you, red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113997369642188484?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113997369642188484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113997369642188484' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113997369642188484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113997369642188484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/full-moon-woof.html' title='Full Moon Woof'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113988311298425960</id><published>2006-02-13T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T18:11:53.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fabulous Las Vegas</title><content type='html'>We made it to Vegas.  Conor drives fast, which isn't a bad thing at all.  I haven't been here since I was in college and so much has changed.  Or maybe I just don't remember much--I had just turned 21.  ;-)  The energy here is interesting, vibrant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/vegas.jpg" alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McCabe was going to stop at the No Tell Motel, but I convinced him to let me choose our accommodations.  Since he's trying to atone for taking off without me, he wasn't a hard sell.  I picked something with a lot more class than my mate would have chosen.  The Bellagio has a five diamond rating and is stunning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/bellagio.jpg" alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think in the future, I'll make sure I choose all our hotels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to take a short nap, grab something to eat and head out looking for Marc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113988311298425960?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113988311298425960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113988311298425960' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113988311298425960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113988311298425960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/fabulous-las-vegas.html' title='Fabulous Las Vegas'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/th_vegas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113982631280861556</id><published>2006-02-13T02:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T02:25:12.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vegas, Baby!</title><content type='html'>I found someone who claims to have seen a man matching Marc's description in Las Vegas. He even described the woman Hayes was with and I didn't mention her.  I think we have our first lead!  Now I have to find McCabe.  Even as mad as I am at him right now, I'm not prepared to go on a road trip without him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113982631280861556?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113982631280861556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113982631280861556' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113982631280861556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113982631280861556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/vegas-baby.html' title='Vegas, Baby!'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113980041333586368</id><published>2006-02-12T18:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-12T19:17:13.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cure</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 5px;"&gt;I decided the cure for what ails me is work, so I've taken on a freelance project. My client was not exactly truthful. He told me he was sending me after an Elismal or a Nitah. He lied. Now, when I freelance, I get $50K up front, no refunds ever, plus extraordinary expenses (I have a list of what constitutes extraordinary) then $50K upon completion. In return, I take out the demon. So, for that kind of money, my clients think they get to lie to me. The demon he wants taken down is a Bak Faru. What's more, he's a Bak-Faru with friends. Turns out the guy promised the demon his sister if the demon would kill someone my client owes a lot of money. Well, the guy with the IOU is dead and now the demon wants the sister, who is all of 22 I think, and doesn't know anything about her scumbag brother's deal. And the problem is the demon and my client have very different ideas of what &amp;quot;Sure, you can have my sister.&amp;quot; actually meant. His Bak-Faru friend doesn't have the sister and is looking to kill my client for failing to keep the promise. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of tracking the demon, my cell phone rings and it's Jason. He sounds really upset. So, I leave off my work and go see what's up. It wasn't Jason at all. In fact, when I got to his house, he was fixing dinner for someone else, not me. Someone stole his cell phone yesterday. Now, considering that I'm tracking a Bak Faru, my danger meter is freaking out on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I can't figure out is who the hell would steal Jason's cell phone and call me on it AND manage a spot on imitation of him. For what? So I'll go see he's having dinner with someone else? It's not like we were in love. Hell, we already knew it wasn't going to work out. Jason's new girlfriend was pretty pissed off to see me, let me tell you. Just when I didn't think my life could stink anymore, it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113980041333586368?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113980041333586368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113980041333586368' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113980041333586368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113980041333586368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/cure.html' title='The Cure'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113979724265077137</id><published>2006-02-12T18:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-12T18:20:42.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mika</title><content type='html'>Honey, I know you're going to be pissed off at me when you read this, but tough.  I'm keeping you informed the way you told me you wanted so that should count for something, right?  I'm off to find Aslet and make the idiot see sense--even if I have to beat it into him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I don't care if it was only because he was trying to get past you to kill some human, I don't want him touching you.  If it ever happens again, he's dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, your plan is ridiculous.  For God's sake, the woman Aslet was involved with was bitching about him not picking up after himself and you concoct a scheme worthy of the invasion of Normandy.  Why all the subterfuge and manipulation and lying?  Demons.  I'm going to straighten him out on this score too, and then there'll be no reason for him to talk to you again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you, Mika, and I'm looking forward to your payback for sneaking out and leaving you asleep.  I hope it involves the cheerleader uniform.  Just a suggestion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113979724265077137?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113979724265077137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113979724265077137' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113979724265077137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113979724265077137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/mika.html' title='Mika'/><author><name>McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15251668261158207430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/C_fire.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113971746279705893</id><published>2006-02-11T20:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T20:12:49.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mika Addendum</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I forgot this!  Chalk it up to the early hour of the first post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conor doesn't know that Aslet wanted to kill the human male who was with his woman, and he doesn't know that I had to hold the Elismal back.  I didn't plan on sharing that with my mate because he'd get all protective and want me to stay home while he looks for Marc.  Female demons are weaker than the males and he'd worry about my being injured. (which didn't happen so why bring it up, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, some jerks who get off on stirring things up have been spreading stories about Aslet pawing a half demon female.  Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McCabe will go ballistic when he hears the rumors.  And he will hear them, I have no illusions about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to find some way to explain the situation without getting my mate angry enough to confront Aslet.  And because of some freak dog, I have to do it ASAP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113971746279705893?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113971746279705893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113971746279705893' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113971746279705893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113971746279705893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/dear-mika-addendum.html' title='Dear Mika Addendum'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113971143199356086</id><published>2006-02-11T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T18:51:38.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Mika, I have this problem...</title><content type='html'>Since I'm awake a little early, and nothing else is pressing, I have time to talk about what else as been going on.  As if Marc being missing and my family in an uproar hasn't been enough drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the clubs Conor and I hit frequently is The Crimson Jim.  Marc was a regular there, and it's logical to assume that if he's healthy, he'll show up there eventually.  Humans are creatures of habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;McCabe usually has me scope out one side while he checks the other in order to save time.  Well, twice now I've run into Aslet there and he's spoken to me.  Yes, I was surprised.  I'm half Mahsei and half human--a freak in Orcus.  That an Elismal demon with powers strong enough to rival the Dark Ones deigned to acknowledge me is amazing.  Of course, he did want something from me.  Advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems he's having difficulty with a human female that he wants and he didn't understand her issues with him.  This is the same type of thing I worry about with Kimi and Nic if they ever became a couple.  She wouldn't understand his behavior because she doesn't understand demon culture.  Hell, Conor is half demon and even he struggles at times because he was raised human.  But I don't want to talk about my family tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the first time we met, Aslet began to explain his problem to me.  He didn't get a chance to finish because he spotted McCabe headed our direction and discretion being the better part of valor and all that, he left.  Wise decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second time Aslet and I talked, he spotted his woman with a human male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have to tell you how volatile that situation was, do I?  If I hadn't struggled to hold him back, Aslet would have crossed the distance and killed the man.  I don't know what his powers are, and I don't know why Aslet didn't use them--maybe he was too agitated to think of it--but that human was damn lucky I was there.  Not that the poor thing has any idea how close he was to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also the one that prevented Aslet from following his woman and the human male out of the club.  It wasn't easy either, let me tell you, that was one determined Elismal.  But then all demons tend to be stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took some time for Aslet to calm down enough to tell me what was going on with him and his woman.  I think we came up with a good scheme for him to win her back though.  Maybe it's a little convoluted, but we didn't get a chance to discuss everything in detail because Conor returned then and he got all territorial about another demon male speaking to me.  You gotta love genetics, don't you?  Anyway, McCabe is still pissy whenever Aslet's name comes up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just think, this could be the start of a whole new venture for me--Dear Abby for demons!  How much fun would that be?  Aslet promised to let me know how our plan worked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113971143199356086?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113971143199356086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113971143199356086' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113971143199356086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113971143199356086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/dear-mika-i-have-this-problem.html' title='Dear Mika, I have this problem...'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113967969073661564</id><published>2006-02-11T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T09:41:30.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mika, Mika, Mika</title><content type='html'>I'm so sick of my cousin saying jump and everyone in the family leaping to obey.  All I hear is Mika said this, or Mika said that.  Who cares what she says?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad called me this morning to tell me he'd talked to Uncle David.  Uncle David told him that Nic left.  I know Mika had something to do with it.  She decided I wasn't good enough for her brother and then Nic leaves?  Yeah, Mika's involved.  Mika, Mika, Mika.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to forgive her for this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113967969073661564?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113967969073661564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113967969073661564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113967969073661564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113967969073661564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/mika-mika-mika.html' title='Mika, Mika, Mika'/><author><name>Kimiko Noguchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17342786942656955139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/kimi2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113967766515353421</id><published>2006-02-11T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T09:07:45.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday decisions</title><content type='html'>Jonny says Monday is the day. It's a full moon and he'll do me then, if I want. He isn't budging on the deal for me watching him change.  I haven't told him yet I want to.  Not the conversion part, I'm still not totally sure about that.  He says he thinks he can keep himself from biting me after he changes, but no guarantees.  Maybe an accident is better. Look, I'm not dumb about the psychology here. My mom had me in therapy when I was 10. My shrink would say I've decided and  don't want the responsibility of converting on purpose. Jonny would say, who the fuck cares? Let's just freaking do it. Whatever happens, I'll need to take at least Tuesday off, though, just to recover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister emailed me a picture of the bridesmaid gown I'm supposed to wear at her wedding. It's hideous. Then Mom called me and cried about the stress of planning the wedding and how ungrateful I am yada yada yada. Jonny may be a freak but at least he doesn't pretend he isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113967766515353421?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113967766515353421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113967766515353421' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113967766515353421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113967766515353421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/monday-decisions.html' title='Monday decisions'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113954122928402173</id><published>2006-02-09T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T19:13:49.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>At the edge and looking over</title><content type='html'>I haven't been home in a long time. That's because I've been with the werewolf who said he'd convert me. Here's the thing. He's seriously insane. There's something loose inisde his head and it's never going to be right. In a way, he's just like me, only he's stopped caring what anybody thinks. He knows he's not normal and he doesn't care. He really doesn't. And in case you're wondering, yes. We did. And he likes some massively twisted things. I thought I didn't have anything to learn but I was wrong. It took me two days to recover. Two days! Lucky it was the weekend or I would have lost my job. He likes my tat. Yesterday, we shaved me guess where and he gave me a tat right there. He's certified and everything. A blue butterfly. Jaysus that hurt. He said he'd let me watch him change but that I'd have to put out afterward. So, yeah. OK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still haven't made up my mind. But I'm thinking, why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113954122928402173?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113954122928402173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113954122928402173' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113954122928402173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113954122928402173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/at-edge-and-looking-over.html' title='At the edge and looking over'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113954046429890361</id><published>2006-02-09T18:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T19:01:04.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Down in the valley</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 5px;"&gt;I am so stupid. I went out with Jason again and we went to the bar that's not far from my place. It never ocurred to me Aslet would be there, too. Why would he be? We used to go there together. Well everyone, you were right, all of you. I'm not over him and he's obviously moved on. The minute I saw him, my stomach just went right through the floor. There's poor Jason talking to me and I can't even hear him. All I could do was stare at Aslet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was with another woman. A really pretty half-demon if I'm not mistaken and I'm not. He had his hands all over her. So I put mine all over Jason and then he went home wondering what the hell he did to piss me off. So, basically, my life pretty much stinks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113954046429890361?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113954046429890361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113954046429890361' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113954046429890361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113954046429890361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/down-in-valley.html' title='Down in the valley'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113940785501260696</id><published>2006-02-08T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T06:10:55.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes!</title><content type='html'>Conor's truck just pulled up front.  After we have a little discussion about checking in more frequently, I'm taking the man to bed. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113940785501260696?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113940785501260696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113940785501260696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113940785501260696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113940785501260696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/yes.html' title='Yes!'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113939521661565733</id><published>2006-02-08T02:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T04:17:05.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Obligations</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I love my family dearly, but their timing is terrible. Since the last thing I wanted was my dad descending on us, I called him first. Then I called Uncle Paul and Kimi. I even managed to talk to Nic, although his aversion to technology is strong. But then comm units and other things implode in Orcus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What's the big crisis? Kimi came home from college unexpectedly and saw Nic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a big deal, right? Except it is. Kimi and Nic have the vishtau and the more time they spend together, the more driving the urge to mate will become for them. If things were different, this wouldn't be a problem. While I'm related to both of them, they're not related to each other--Nic is my half brother--but a relationship between them still isn't a good idea. Not now, maybe not ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nic is a demon--half Mahsei. His other half is Grolird and the only demons darker than his branch are the Dark Ones. Nic was always my protector as a child, but I don't underestimate him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then there's the cultural differences between someone like Nic, who's spent his entire life in Orcus, versus Kimi who doesn't believe that demons really exist. I used to find this amusing--until the dark demons escaped Orcus. Now her ignorance is dangerous. She'd never understand that we lie just because we want to, and she certainly doesn't understand demon males. They're chauvinistic. The more power they have, the more arrogant they tend to be. And most importantly, demon males are accustomed to demon females. How's Kimi going to react when Nic's eyes glow? When he bites her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other concern is the age gap. Kimi is 19--a young 19. Nic is in his 40s. Young for a demon, but he's lived a lot of life, has a lot of experience, that will take my cousin years to acquire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nic handled Kimi's surprise arrival well--even my dad said so. He kept his distance from her until he could unobtrusively leave. I know that couldn't have been easy for him. See why I love my big brother so much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kimi is hurt because she thinks Nic's a hottie--she's never been as interested in a man as she is in Nic--and my brother obviously doesn't like her. Uncle Paul and Aunt Midori are worried about Kimi because she's moping. Dad wants to return Nic to Orcus to avoid the vishtau taking hold, but he's worried about how I'll react if he sends my brother back without warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nic, for his part is willing to return to the Other World, but he's worried about our mom. While she and Dad have been having trysts for years, this is the first time he and Mom have spent an extended period of time together. This is the problem with human/demon matings. While humans will feel something of the vishtau, they don't feel it with nearly the same strength as demons. He's worried that Mom has fallen for my dad. I don't think that's something to worry about--there's a reason why Dad hasn't married anyone else. There has to be, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Solution is that Nic is going back to Orcus. In exchange for his agreement, I'm supposed to keep an eye on my parents to make sure Dad doesn't break Mom's heart. Kimi (and she'll always be Kimi to me) is pissed off at me because she thinks I sided against her when I argued my dad's position. My aunt and uncle are relieved because now that Kimi is furious at me, she's not depressed any longer. Problem solved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was surreal, though, in a way. Even as I'm talking with them, I'm thinking, I can't believe they're all turning to ME! I mean, come on. I'm the one who started redecorating my suite at Dad's house last summer, and then just left it. Then there's what happened the other night.  Others seeking my advice, well, it's bizarre. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;While all this family drama was going on, Conor went out looking for Marc. He's alone, searching for someone who's very probably involved with a dark demon and he hasn't checked in for a couple of hours. My calls to his comm have gone directly to voice mail. Knowing my mate, he turned the thing off right after he contacted me, but still... He better check in again. Soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113939521661565733?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113939521661565733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113939521661565733' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113939521661565733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113939521661565733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/family-obligations.html' title='Family Obligations'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113937340516436261</id><published>2006-02-07T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T20:36:48.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so over him now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 5px;"&gt;Last night I went out with a guy I work with sometimes. We have a lot in common.  It was fun. He's a really nice guy. I had a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for anyone who wants to talk to me about Aslet, don't. It's pointless. I don't care who he's sleeping with. Somebody else can pick up all his crap. We'll just see how long it lasts. Five mintues I bet. If. He's completely clueless and whoever the poor bimbo is probably deserves exactly what she gets. Which is nothing that counts. I really, really don't want to think about him, talk about him or anything else about him. It's over. O.V.E.R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113937340516436261?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113937340516436261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113937340516436261' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113937340516436261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113937340516436261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-so-over-him-now.html' title='I&apos;m so over him now'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113933418229900513</id><published>2006-02-07T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T09:43:02.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Call Me, ASAP</title><content type='html'>Mika,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've left dozens of messages for you to call me--it's important.  I think it was easier to get in touch with you before you went to live in Crimson City, and since you didn't have a comm unit in your previous location, that's saying something about how bad it's been to reach you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I don't hear from you tonight, I'll be in LA by tomorrow morning to make certain you're well.  That's a promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113933418229900513?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113933418229900513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113933418229900513' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113933418229900513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113933418229900513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/call-me-asap.html' title='Call Me, ASAP'/><author><name>David Noguchi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14366522311447950817</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113928933437807818</id><published>2006-02-06T21:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T21:15:34.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Things</title><content type='html'>The love of my life is, though momentarily indisposed, wildly happy with her married state, so her daughter assures me. My lawyers have begun adoption proceedings for Holly, by the way. Tomorrow she's seeing her doctor and he will tell us both if it is normal for her to be so ill. I cannot lose her. I cannot, and I can do nothing to prevent the worst. Not now. Not in her condition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113928933437807818?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113928933437807818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113928933437807818' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113928933437807818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113928933437807818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/more-things.html' title='More Things'/><author><name>Tiber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09220079576021030403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113928875597588465</id><published>2006-02-06T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T21:05:55.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things</title><content type='html'>So, I told the guys at the dept that Tiber and I got married. They didn't believe me at first. Benson's still a jerk, but then he stopped being a jerk for five minutes and told me he wishes me the best. I got put on leave for fraternizing with Tiber, but that's over and I'm back on the job and all that was OK for a while except if I go longer than twenty minutes without eating, I get sick to my stomach, and the only thing I can eat is Malt-o-Meal and buttered whole wheat bagels. When you're going to the bathroom to barf every other second, it gets noticed. I'm on leave again. Some women get sick like this, I guess. But--&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113928875597588465?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113928875597588465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113928875597588465' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113928875597588465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113928875597588465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/things.html' title='Things'/><author><name>Claudia Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04169296869287071413</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113928808627519701</id><published>2006-02-06T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T21:08:37.696-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Demon Love (cue the hearts and harps) NOT!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#003333;border-top:thick dotted #990033; border-right:thick dotted #ffff33; border-bottom:thick dotted #ff6600; border-left:thick dotted #ff6600; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#99cc00; border:medium ridge #339966; color:#333300; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:135%; padding:5px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, demon killer slayer lady!! Where arrreee you? The dog has news for you. I saw your big hunk of blue-eyed demon making it with some other chick last night. He had his hands all over her. So, give it up. It ain't working out between you two. Ever. Sorry to deliver such a downer, but there's no hearts and roses in your future. The best cure  for a broken heart is sex with a necrodog. How about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113928808627519701?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113928808627519701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113928808627519701' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113928808627519701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113928808627519701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/demon-love-cue-hearts-and-harps-not.html' title='Demon Love (cue the hearts and harps) NOT!'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113906709661484772</id><published>2006-02-04T07:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T07:37:05.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HOLLYWOOD REPORTER / Patrick Lewis's Journal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;From The Hollywood Reporter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MIRACLE OPENING!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 1, 1992&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;By Howard Berns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hollywood's elite celebrated in style yesterday in a most unusual gala opening. Miracles by Jason, another health spa for the rich and famous, opened it doors with glittering fanfare. With a client list that includes the most powerful in a city of power brokers, Jason charges equally astronomical prices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what exactly are his services? That, apparently, is a mystery to all but those who pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We offer health and energy miracles," claimed Jason, who declined to give his last name. "My customers are very satisfied."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And indeed they are, if the turnout is anything to judge by. But only time will tell if Miracles by Jason survives past the initial faddish nature of Hollywood or fades into obscurity like yesterday's glitter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113906709661484772?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113906709661484772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113906709661484772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113906709661484772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113906709661484772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/hollywood-reporter-patrick-lewiss.html' title='HOLLYWOOD REPORTER / Patrick Lewis&apos;s Journal'/><author><name>Jade Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00527318200926371418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113906528922780962</id><published>2006-02-04T06:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T07:05:36.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Popular</title><content type='html'>McCabe and I can't find Marc anywhere--rumor ties him to some unknown woman who can't be human--but I seem to be popular with everyone else in California.  We arrived home half an hour ago to find the light on the comm flashing like a warning beacon.  All the messages were for me.  Damn good thing I left it at home because it would have been ringing nonstop all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kimi called three times.  She wants to talk to me about Nic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Paul called twice.  He wants to talk to me about Kimi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad called half a dozen times.  He wants to talk to me about Kimi and Nic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even Nic managed to figure out how to work the comm and call.  He wants to talk to me about my dad and our mom.  And Kimi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't even mention what happened when Conor left me at the bar while he checked out the rest of the club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in high demand, but the only one I'm dealing with right now is my vishtau mate.  He needs me and the rest of them can wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113906528922780962?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113906528922780962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113906528922780962' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113906528922780962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113906528922780962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/popular.html' title='Popular'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113885587416470975</id><published>2006-02-01T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T20:51:14.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one challenge</title><content type='html'>I have called several Elismal demons to the Overworld. The Council bound us to an alliance with the vampire Korzha and this must be done. The Bak-Faru wish to kill the vampire's mate who was bound by the Vishtau but this they cannot do, as they will soon discover. For three days without sleep I have watched the vampire and his human and so have neglected other matters that defy my understanding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113885587416470975?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113885587416470975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113885587416470975' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885587416470975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885587416470975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/one-challenge.html' title='one challenge'/><author><name>Aslet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16340175851067237769</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://static.flickr.com/25/66308929_5a4f098e15_m.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113885400988751166</id><published>2006-02-01T20:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T20:36:10.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I'm not so sure</title><content type='html'>So, I met the guy who offered to convert me. Whoa. He wasn't anything like I expected. We talked for hours and he actually listened. He said I need to be absolutely sure before I go through with this. He offered to show me around Strata -1 and introduce me to a few converts so I can decide if I really want to do this. And maybe I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except, he's really cute. It's not like he's mega-buff or anything or drop-dead gorgeous.  In fact, at first I thought it was  like no way, he's some kind of freak. But we talked until 3:00 am, and he told me a few things about himself. He's not like a normal werewolf, he let that slip at one point. He's got this really wild way of talking and the thing is, I think he wants to convert me. He gets off on it and you know what, that really doesn't bother me much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not sure anymore that I want to. Later tonight he's taking me to meet somebody named Gee or some damn letter of the alphabet and then we're going to Strata -1 to meet some of his pack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113885400988751166?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113885400988751166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113885400988751166' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885400988751166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885400988751166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/maybe-im-not-so-sure.html' title='Maybe I&apos;m not so sure'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113885361302710394</id><published>2006-02-01T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T20:16:16.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life comes slow and sweet</title><content type='html'>Last week, Claudia and I went to City Hall and were married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I have demonstrated to certain persons the dangers of presumption. A brief but ugly squabble that leaves me rather pleased with the result. No, Tiberiu Korzha is &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; so distracted that he cannot act swiftly when warranted. My arrangement with certain visitors from out of town has been formalized and we are at present settling into the ramifications. As it happens, it's good for business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it's been a very good year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113885361302710394?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113885361302710394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113885361302710394' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885361302710394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885361302710394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/life-comes-slow-and-sweet.html' title='Life comes slow and sweet'/><author><name>Tiber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09220079576021030403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113885306666837783</id><published>2006-02-01T19:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T20:04:26.683-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess that's that</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif; padding: 3px;"&gt;Shit. Aslet and I argued and we didn't kiss and make up. I should have known this would happen. He's a demon. I'm not. He's powerful enough to be scary and I really should have known that would cause issues. I've been obsessing over this ever since I told him to leave and he did. Depression, the miracle diet. I thought it was about the sex and now that it's too late, I've found out it wasn't just that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand being here alone. He took everything except a couple of shirts and now that his crap isn't all over the place, all I can see is the emptiness. Of all the men in my life, he's the only one who always held me afterward. And told me it was good with me, better than good, if you want to know the truth. He wanted to bind me to him and I know demons. They don't lie about whether or not the sex was fabulous, and they don't offer to bind themselves to human women if there isn't something there that makes them think about permanent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit. I so totally blew it. Except I really couldn't have taken much more of his attitude. Completely and utterly smug and overbearing except when he was being sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started working again. Kind of takes my mind of what a pathetic loser I am. I honestly don't think I'm going to get over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113885306666837783?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113885306666837783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113885306666837783' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885306666837783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113885306666837783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-guess-thats-that.html' title='I guess that&apos;s that'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113875333467121479</id><published>2006-01-31T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-31T16:25:45.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Failure</title><content type='html'>Word is B-Ops wants me off the streets and under wraps.  Don't know why.  All hell is breaking loose in Crimson City.  Can't turn around it seems without running into a demon.  I should be killing them, but I don't know how.  I've never actually taken one out before.  Fangs, yes.  Dogs, yes.  Demons, no.  If I can't figure it out, there goes my plan to avenge Kari.  I want retribution for her death, but I'm not suicidal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding McCabe and getting a few pointers might be useful about now, but he's hunting me and he's pissed.  I heard Mika's with him now, and that before that, she'd been looking for me solo.  I'm surprised he let her tag along, but on the other hand, he's so smitten that she could probably talk him into almost anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I met this woman.  Wild reddish brown hair that she wore to the small of her back.  Two little braids on either side of her face with some metallic stuff woven in.  Sexy blue eyes that promised heaven and her mouth...  Shit.  I couldn't help myself, I had to stop, talk to her.  Take her to bed and sink into her.  Nothing has ever felt so flipping good in my entire life.  Her name is Alzbeta.  She looks like she's twenty, but said she's older than that.  She certainly screws like someone with years of experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of man forgets about his need for justice for someone he swore to protect for an all night long bang session?  And the damn thing is I'm meeting her again tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be tracking some of these demons.  I should be watching and learning how to kill them.  I know I should.  But it's like I can't help myself.  I've gotta have her again and again.  It's like some weird fever.  Already I'm antsy, anticipating tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kari deserves better than this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113875333467121479?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113875333467121479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113875333467121479' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113875333467121479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113875333467121479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/failure.html' title='Failure'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113868446028933076</id><published>2006-01-30T20:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T21:14:20.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gung Hay Fat Choy Arf.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#000080;border-top:medium dotted #ff00cc; border-right:medium dotted #66ff00; border-bottom:medium dotted #cccccc; border-left:medium dotted #ff6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#663366; border:thin dotted #ffff33; color:#ffffff; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%; padding:5px;"&gt;This is the year of the Dog and already my world is sweet and getting sweeter.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Got a hot date tonight. Oh yeah. This babe-o-licious wants to turn and is going to let me do her. I followed her around for a couple of days after I got her email just to be sure she was on the level and worth the risk. Uh-huh. Juicy. Blonde. A real dish. Gotta run for the big intro in just a couple hours.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Old Blue Eyes argued with his human chick and last I saw he was drowning his sorry demon ass in an ice-cold Anchor Steam. Here's hoping he'll get back to normal and start offing people again. Otherwise, I gotta complain to management.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I met the management. Got your papers in order? This city's exploding now. Even a necro like me can't keep up. But, I'm working on getting some recruits. (see #1).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just call me one happy freaking necrodog. Arf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113868446028933076?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113868446028933076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113868446028933076' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113868446028933076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113868446028933076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/gung-hay-fat-choy-arf.html' title='Gung Hay Fat Choy Arf.'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113866967712240571</id><published>2006-01-30T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T17:08:58.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all about choices, right?</title><content type='html'>I talked to my mom this weekend and she got all weepy about me throwing away my life. She's convinced I'm shacked up with some bike messenger with a drug habit. I have two roommates, one's a med student and isn't ever here. The other one is, in fact, a bike messenger, but he doesn't have a drug habit. I kept trying to talk to her about converting, but she had other stuff on her mind. Good old Dad is having an affair with his secretary and my older sister, a sophmore at Yale (Harvard rejected her) is pregnant and dropping out to marry some senator's son who's going to work for Daddy when he passes the bar.  Baby shower in July! Drama. She's always been the one I've failed to be like. (Your sister never had orange hair. Your sister never got drunk before school. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.) Well, f*ck that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm converting. My friend says his contact won't meet me until I have the whole $1000. Well F that too. I found somebody who will do it for $500. We're meeting tonight. Just to talk. My new tat finally stopped itching. It's way cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113866967712240571?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113866967712240571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113866967712240571' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113866967712240571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113866967712240571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/its-all-about-choices-right.html' title='It&apos;s all about choices, right?'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113862487181317740</id><published>2006-01-30T04:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T04:41:11.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky For Him</title><content type='html'>McCabe is lucky I love him too much to stay mad at him. He's also lucky that I understand demon males and that I realize the vishtau is exacerbating his natural tendency toward protectiveness. If I wasn't so understanding, he'd be in a world of hurt from having to spend the entire night on that tiny couch. However, he and I are going to resolve this before we go to bed today. I've got my sleeves rolled up and I'm ready to have at him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113862487181317740?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113862487181317740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113862487181317740' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113862487181317740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113862487181317740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/lucky-for-him.html' title='Lucky For Him'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113854690297584002</id><published>2006-01-29T06:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T07:01:43.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doghouse</title><content type='html'>Mika is royally pissed.  I don't think I've seen her this furious the entire time we've been together.  I knew she wouldn't like it if she found out what I was doing, but I underestimated her temper.  She says I also underestimate her, but that's bullshit.  Doesn't she understand that I have to keep her safe?  I nearly lost her once and if anything ever happened to her, it would kill me.  I don't care that she can share my shield, she's mine to protect, damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that wasn't how the argument started out.  She wanted to know how I could betray Hayes.  Once I got a word in, we resolved that.  If I didn't look for Hayes, B-Ops would just send someone else.  Maybe someone who would kill him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got into the she's my partner segment of the fight.  That's still unresolved. Mika threw me a pillow and closed the bedroom door in my face.  Looks like I'll be sleeping on the couch for a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113854690297584002?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113854690297584002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113854690297584002' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113854690297584002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113854690297584002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/doghouse.html' title='Doghouse'/><author><name>McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15251668261158207430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/C_fire.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113832920857851017</id><published>2006-01-26T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T18:38:38.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn B-Ops</title><content type='html'>I found this on Conor's account today.  He must have meant to delete it and accidentally archived it instead.  I wasn't snooping.  I know some people will think I was and I want this clear up front.  If I don't clean out his email and voice mail, no one else will.  The man is horrible about discarding &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt;.  He's happily abdicated these chores to me.  This note, however, was one I'm sure he'd rather I hadn't seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;span class="gmail_quote"&gt;From: &lt;b class="gmail_sendername"&gt;Franklin Donner&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: Jan 24, 2006 8:20 AM&lt;br /&gt;Subject: Re: Hayes, Marcus&lt;br /&gt;To: mccabe.conor@g&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm taking this outside channels because I don't want the press to get wind of the situation.  I trust you'll exercise the utmost discretion in this matter.  Marcus Hayes has, for lack of a better term, pulled a Rambo.  Your assignment, McCabe, is to rein him in and return him to headquarters for psychological counseling.  I don't need to tell you ASAP, do I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Franklin P. Donner&lt;br /&gt;Acting Director&lt;br /&gt;Los Angeles Battlefield Operations&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew Hayes was going to go off half-cocked, and I knew B-Ops would want him brought back in line.  I didn't guess that they'd go to Conor, but I should have.  No wonder he's been sneaking out on me.  We're partners, damn it, and he's going to learn that and remember it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113832920857851017?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113832920857851017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113832920857851017' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113832920857851017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113832920857851017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/damn-b-ops.html' title='Damn B-Ops'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113816943366043513</id><published>2006-01-24T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T22:11:36.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>On the outside, looking out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I moved to Crimson City about a month ago and got a job reading scripts from slush at Forrester Development, LLC. Here's hoping I get promoted to mail room soon. Three nights a week I waitress at a diner about six blocks from where I live, which is in a dump. Anyway, I came here thinking I might want to convert because it would so piss off anyone who's not already mad at me for not going to Harvard like they wanted. I thought about converting to vamp, but I think that's just too gross for me. Microwaved blood? I don't think so. Then I was all depressed so I got a tat on my hip. It's really tasteful, if you like naked men, which I do. After that, I got to thinking, I want to be a dog. Wolves are awesome beasts, and most of the time you're just normal, right? A friend of mine thinks he can hook me up with someone who can do the conversion, but it'll cost me $1000. I got $850 so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113816943366043513?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113816943366043513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113816943366043513' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113816943366043513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113816943366043513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/on-outside-looking-out.html' title='On the outside, looking out'/><author><name>Elle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14238528912983475498</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113798439497730483</id><published>2006-01-22T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T18:47:50.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eye for an Eye</title><content type='html'>McCabe is hunting me.  I knew he'd be out for blood if I approached his wife about going into the underworld.  But she's searching for me too.  Don't know why Mika's asking around, but it can't be anything good.  Shit, maybe she wants to see if I'm doing okay.  Women.  I was prepared for the worst.  When so much time passed, I knew it was unlikely Kari was still alive.  When you throw demons into the mix, someone always ends up dead.  They're evil.  Killers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mika rattled on about types, about how some aren't dangerous.  What a bunch of bullshit.  Maybe she isn't a threat, but then she's got human blood.  That makes her different from other demons.  The rest of them?  They deserve to die.  All of them.  And I'm going to be the one to send them to hell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113798439497730483?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113798439497730483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113798439497730483' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113798439497730483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113798439497730483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/eye-for-eye.html' title='Eye for an Eye'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113786060531831633</id><published>2006-01-21T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T08:23:25.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From Patrick Lewis's Journal</title><content type='html'>From the druid records&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 7th, 1992&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For health reasons, Draig-Athar relinquished his position. With prayer and blood, he passed the token of power to his son who has chosen the title Draig-Teine. The proofs of power went according to ritual. The Draig-Teine can indeed wield the token of power. He now bears the burden for all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113786060531831633?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113786060531831633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113786060531831633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113786060531831633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113786060531831633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/from-patrick-lewiss-journal.html' title='From Patrick Lewis&apos;s Journal'/><author><name>Jade Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00527318200926371418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113781458780831625</id><published>2006-01-20T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T19:38:00.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do I look like the maid service?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was looking around my apartment the other day and I realized that Aslet lives here. He moved my socks in with my underwear to make room for his stuff. His shirts are in the closet, over the chair and on the bathroom floor six inches from the hamper. His shoes are in the hallway (instead of the closet) and this morning the toilet seat was up. His guns are on the table. I was in the kitchen this afternoon scrubbing out the pots and getting really pissed that I'm doing all the work. And he comes in all &amp;quot;Where's my shoes?&amp;quot; and under my breath, I'm saying &lt;em&gt;in the damn hallway where you left them for anybody to trip over.&lt;/em&gt; But when I turn around to actually tell him that, he was wearing a pair of Levi's only half buttoned and no shirt and no shoes and his hair is down to his shoulders. And for a minute, I couldn't breathe he looked so good. He smiled and without another word, he took off his pants, and that was it for pots. Afterward, I asked him if he could please just not leave the toilet seat up, but I don't think he gets it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113781458780831625?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113781458780831625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113781458780831625' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113781458780831625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113781458780831625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/do-i-look-like-maid-service.html' title='Do I look like the maid service?'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113772635759794842</id><published>2006-01-19T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T19:11:35.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back, Yes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: georgia, garamond, serif; font-size: 120%;"&gt;The unthinkable has happened. I have told a woman I love her and meant it. And so it is that for the foreseeable future I am to maintain only a cursory presence in Strata +1. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113772635759794842?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113772635759794842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113772635759794842' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113772635759794842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113772635759794842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/back-yes.html' title='Back, Yes.'/><author><name>Tiber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09220079576021030403</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113746287383304188</id><published>2006-01-16T17:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T18:07:37.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilemmas</title><content type='html'>Conor is furious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although he's not happy with me, the person he wants to take apart is Marc Hayes.  I'm torn on this.  Marc's blackmail threat certainly didn't endear him to me, especially since Conor was beginning to think of him as a friend.  Or leaning that way at least.  McCabe needs friends, and I hate that Hayes ruined this for my mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I understand Marc's desperation.  Someone he promised to protect was missing, and he'd run out of avenues to explore.  Orcus was his last hope, although he had to realize that it was unlikely any human was still alive there.  Since he couldn't enter the Other World himself, he had to find someone who could.  That meant either a demon or a vampire.  Since he's a slayer for B-Ops, it's highly unlikely he was going to persuade a vampire to do him a favor.  That meant he needed a demon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He picked me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suspected that he knew I had demon blood, but I don't think he realizes Conor is half demon as well.  If he did, I think Hayes would have approached my mate rather than me.  McCabe, however, stays well concealed.  He never lets anyone except me see him without tinted contacts or sunglasses.  Of course, his eyes are very pale--much paler than mine--and that's a dead giveaway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's up to me to deliver the news I know Marc doesn't want to hear--his foster sister was killed.  Did I see her myself?  No, but I found another demon who had.  The body she saw matched the picture Hayes gave me of his sister. The man already dislikes demons, and I expect that this will push him into hating us.  Which is strangely ironic since I barely have McCabe starting to accept his demon half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have news to share with Conor too.  The Dark Ones are in the Overworld.  I don't know how many, but more than just a couple, that's for sure.  Orcus is ablaze with rumors, but I don't know how much--or even what--is truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I wish I didn't have to tell him about this, there's no way I can keep quiet.  He'll find out eventually, and I won't have him doubt my truthfulness with him--not when we've only just healed that wound. It scares me to know my vishtau mate will hunt the dark demons.  But if he thinks he can keep me safe behind the shield that surrounds our home, he'd better think again.  I'll fight at my mate's side no matter what the outcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113746287383304188?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113746287383304188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113746287383304188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113746287383304188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113746287383304188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/dilemmas.html' title='Dilemmas'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113728452505597471</id><published>2006-01-14T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-14T16:22:05.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, this is sweet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color:#ccff00;border-top:thick dotted #9933cc; border-right:thick dotted #996666; border-bottom:thick dashed #ccff66; border-left:thick dotted #ff6600; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="background-color:#000000; border:medium inset #990033; color:#ffffcc; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:135%; padding:5px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fang is back, old Tiberiu Korzha and man, ain't life sweet. Fleur Dumont, my new best fangy friend has put the Vendix on him! I hope it hurts. I wanna see the ashes. Old blue eyes is back, shacked up with his human babe. I'm hungry, so let's hope they argue.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113728452505597471?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113728452505597471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113728452505597471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113728452505597471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113728452505597471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/oh-this-is-sweet.html' title='Oh, this is sweet!'/><author><name>JonnyWolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03501613952637669038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://static.flickr.com/29/66283779_3ee02cbe80_t.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113703521375034064</id><published>2006-01-11T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-17T20:48:55.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conflicted</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background-color: #ffccff; color: #000033; font-family: arial, verdana, tahoma; sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I am:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;A demonologist - PhD in Medieval history, able to read Latin, Middle English and Gaelic, (Manx, Scot and Irish) and cuneiform, sort of;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Highly paid to document the presence of demons in Crimson City;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Knowledgable about demon lore;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Expert in demon behavior;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Capable of killing demons and not bothered about having done so in the past;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Able to distinguish demons by power and type with accuracy of 93.7 percent (+ or - 2.1);&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Aware that Elismal demons are of middle power but that 6 percent, for some reason, exhibit power that can rival the darker demons;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Sleeping with an Elismal demon who falls into that six percent.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, I'm conflicted.&lt;br /&gt;He's back. He's back and he came to see me and I let him in my head. More than that actually. He could have made me do anything. Afterward, he said he wants to bond me so he can take me to Orcus. The thing is, I know what he's talking about and it does a whole lot more than keep a human alive in Orcus. It'd be like having him in my head permanently. Normally, an Elismal just doesn't have that kind of power. But he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I want to let him. I am so fucking over the edge and when he's with me, I don't care. I really don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiber Korzha's back from wherever the hell he's been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113703521375034064?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113703521375034064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113703521375034064' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113703521375034064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113703521375034064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/conflicted.html' title='Conflicted'/><author><name>Lenore</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00849679835267089913</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113693377072582515</id><published>2006-01-10T14:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T14:56:10.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HAYES!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;When I find you, Hayes, you're gonna pay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113693377072582515?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113693377072582515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113693377072582515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113693377072582515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113693377072582515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/hayes.html' title='HAYES!'/><author><name>McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15251668261158207430</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/C_fire.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113666470112102329</id><published>2006-01-07T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T12:13:00.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets</title><content type='html'>I know things.  I haven't said a word, and don't plan to unless I have no other choice, but there are secrets in Crimson City.  Lots of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the McCabes.  I know Mika's a demon.  At least partly.  I suspected from the time I met her.  Demons have freaky, light-colored eyes.  Hers are a little bit darker than the demons I've seen up close and personal, and that threw me off at first, but I finally figured it out.  She's got human blood too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no way McCabe isn't aware of this.  He's an expert on the species--probably knows more than I do--and he's always hated demons.  Interesting then that he married one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him to help me find Kari, my foster sister, and he's come up empty.  Now I'll be asking Mika.  She can go into Orcus and get information for me.  Kari was involved with some official government demon research group and something had her nervous.  It has to involve the underworld.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If McCabe tries to get in my way, and keep his wife out of it, I'm not above using blackmail.  I promised Kari I'd always protect her and I'll be damned if I break my word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113666470112102329?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113666470112102329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113666470112102329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113666470112102329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113666470112102329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/secrets.html' title='Secrets'/><author><name>Marc Hayes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01535354621130798356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/MHayes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113650267255560996</id><published>2006-01-05T15:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T15:11:12.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From Patrick Lewis' Journal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;September 24, 1991&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the beach today. I owed it to Lisa. It was three years ago today. Mom and Dad offered to go with me, but I said no. But Jason was there. I knew he would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not doing the Dark Lord gig anymore. He says he hasn't since that year.  We talked about college. I told him I actually like plants now. Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's working as an assistant in Hollywood to some big agent. Dines on caviar and helps work mega million deals. He says he picks up clients that way, so I guess he's still doing the healer trick. He's on the fast track with the druids, too. In line to be the next Draig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew his dad was sick. Mom and Dad told me. But I didn't realize he was going to give up as Draig-Athar. Jason's going to be the Draig-Teine. Fire dragon suits him, and he was really excited about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he was sorry about Lisa, that he thinks about her a lot, that everything was out of control that year. It's better now, he says. And he's going to be the Draig-Teine, so life is good for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said okay. Lisa wouldn't want me to hate him. What happened was just one of those things. It wasn't anybody's fault. The police ruled it accidental right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All those things I imagined before were just grief. I see that now. Crazy teenage stuff plus grief. It was an accident, a terrible, horrible accident. And Lisa wouldn't want me to hate anybody anyway. Especially not the guy who used to be my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to try surfing tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113650267255560996?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113650267255560996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113650267255560996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113650267255560996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113650267255560996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/from-patrick-lewis-journal.html' title='From Patrick Lewis&apos; Journal'/><author><name>Jade Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00527318200926371418</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13886233.post-113617717007727666</id><published>2006-01-01T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T20:48:18.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What, Me Worry?</title><content type='html'>Something's up.  It's too quiet.  Conor's worrying about it, but since there's nothing to do right now except wait, I don't see the point.  We'll deal with whatever it is when it hits the fan.  The connection between us, though, has been strengthening.  I'm feeling his tenseness and that's making &lt;strong&gt;me&lt;/strong&gt; tense.  I don't like being strung this tightly, but until McCabe relaxes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Mrs. Santa outfit was a huge hit, BTW.  Um, I think I'll leave it at that since I have such a prudish vishtau mate, but it's worked every time I've put it on.  In fact, we brought the new year in with a bang.  :-)  Conor doesn't think that's funny, but then he's still coming to terms with his demon nature.  He has a real problem when things get a little...energetic...when we're in bed.  Even though I'm as much demon as he is, he worries about hurting me.  I know he doesn't think of me as weak, so I find his concern sweet.  I just wish he could relax and enjoy the different ways we mate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13886233-113617717007727666?l=crimsoncity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/feeds/113617717007727666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13886233&amp;postID=113617717007727666' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113617717007727666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13886233/posts/default/113617717007727666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crimsoncity.blogspot.com/2006/01/what-me-worry.html' title='What, Me Worry?'/><author><name>Mika McCabe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09074991761963173506</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y143/bugalootwo/blog_stuff/mika5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry></feed>
