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Fiction by ERWA Bloggers

Halloween In The Castro
by Donna George Storey

Renfield's Lament
by Lisabet Sarai

Pinky
by C. Sanchez-Garcia

Three Times Lucky
by Remittance Girl

Last Tango in Paris, Texas
by M. Christian

Eddie's All-night Diner
by K D Grace

A Curious Case
by Jean Roberta

Sleep Well, My Love
by Elizabeth Black

are you going to kiss me?
by Ashley R Lister



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Naughty Bits: Technology for Authors
by Lisabet Sarai

A Slip of the Lip Anthology
by Remittance Girl (Ed)

Carnival Ride

by Daddy X

 

erotic fictionIt was the third year in a row Tim had worked for the blonde. He knew it would be his last, even before what happened actually came about. Tim had just turned eighteen and understood he’d have to go out and get a full-time job soon. That two-week summer gig just wouldn’t do.

Every year, St. Mike’s carnival became a multi-faceted boon for local teens. Days before they opened, individual concessions would hire strong young guys to help set up the rides and equipment in the church parking lot. Then, if they thought the youths might have some potential, the booth operators would ask them to work the fair itself.

Of course, the rest of the town’s teenagers would hang around at night with the smells of French fries, corn dogs and cotton candy thick in the air. Looking to get lucky in the balmy evenings.

Lulu ran a ring-toss game; her husband Hoyt manned a booth where foolish marks pitched baseballs at fuzzy dolls, their girlfriends hopeful for a prize. Both scams, really. To win anything at Hoyt’s booth, someone had to knock down three dolls with three throws. Unbeknownst to the pitcher, on his third toss, the operator hit a lever that clicked a steel bar into place behind the dolls.

And sure, at the ring toss, the hoops would actually fit over the wooden cubes with those cheap trinkets on top, but just by a fraction of an inch. Almost impossible, but it took Lulu only a few minutes to show Tim how to hold the ring properly at the precise cant, slipping it easily over a block when a fleeced customer claimed the wooden rings were too small. Every year, Tim could count the winners of anything at all on two hands.

Hoyt appeared much older than his wife. Of course, at Tim’s age it didn’t affect his recurring crush. Practically everyone was older than him, and her relative youth compared to her husband, gave Tim the illusion of camaraderie.

What mattered most to Tim were her fleshy boobs, jiggling within the various low-cut tops she wore—off-the-shoulder boat-necked jerseys with wide horizontal stripes, calculated to distract the ring-tossers. Every time Lulu bent down to pick up a ring, the blouse would ride up in back, exposing her slim waist. The image of her dimpled summer ass stuffed in short denim shorts, brightened those dark summer nights, alone in bed, guiding Tim’s hand in a loner’s embrace.  

Over the years, Hoyt, a gruff and moody sort, never had a kind word for Tim. Of course he saw how deferential the lad acted toward his wife. He must have known how doting teenagers can be.

How Tim ogled her. Unharnessed hormones become a driving force in men that age, and most young guys would fuck a gopher hole if the sun shined there long enough to warm it up. He had a hard-on most nights, working by Lulu’s side.

But that last year it turned out differently. In 1963 the Pennsylvania legislature outlawed any game offering prizes that were impossible to win. Consequently, this year, Lulu’s husband was working another carnival in the next state. 

Over in Wilmington, Hoyt was applying for a temporary concessionaire’s permit.

“Well, Mr. Hobarth,” said the librarian-type behind the counter “what kind of business?”

“A ball toss, ma’am,” said Hoyt.

“Ones with the fuzzy dolls?” said the official. “The ones with the bar in back?”

“Err… No, ma’am,” said Hoyt. Damn. Too late to go back to Pennsy, back with his wife. Besides, he’d already paid the Wilmington city hall for the space, a non-refundable $300. Hoyt couldn’t afford to go to Pennsylvania. He’d have to figure something out. Fuck them, he thought.

Back at St. Mike’s on set-up day, Tim and Lulu were forming a corner of the booth by securing a wing-nut to a bolt shoved through two pre-cut two-by-fours. “So where is he again?” Tim asked, shirtless in the noonday sun.   

“In Delaware,” said Lulu, pronouncing it ‘Delawayahh’.

“Doing the doll booth?”

“Yeah. Some ol’ city lot down there.”

“The whole two weeks?” Tim asked, lump in his young throat, fantasies gathering in his hormone-whacked teenage imagination as Lulu peered deep into his eyes. In his innocence, Tim thought he saw hurt in those baby-blues. Often back then, alone, he dreamed of fantastic scenarios. Lulu in distress. Lulu kidnapped. Coming to her rescue like a chivalrous knight of old.

“We’re not getting along lately,” she said. “Me an’ Hoyt. It’s hard in a carnival. Hard to keep a good relationship going.”

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.    

“Nothing you should concern yourself with, fella. He’s not here, that’s all that matters.”

That hurt Tim. He wasn’t a child. Not any more.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Naw, sonny. You sweet, but you can't help. Not what I got.”

“Oh my god,” he said. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Nah. Not like you think, hon. Don’t you worry yourself none about me. You got your own life to live, Timmy.”

“I’m not no boy!” he boasted. “I’m ready to move out of the house. Gonna make my own way. Get a job at the mill.”

Lulu made a mental note to never call him “Timmy” again. She changed the subject, “You got a girlfriend?”

“Uh… yeah. I see one girl a lot. Name’s Sue.”

“How come I never met her? Will she come down and visit you some night?”

“I doubt it. We just started going out a few months ago. Her family owns the restaurant over in the shopping center. She has to waitress all the time for her old man”

“Be good to her, sweetie. Don’t be slapping her around.”

“I’d never hit a girl.”

“You’re a good boy, Tim. Stay that sweet all your life and you’ll be okay.”

“I’m not always good,” he blurted with the cockiness of an ego too big for his age, “but I’d never hit a chick.”

“Is that how you think of me? A chick?”

“Well, yeah. You’re sure not a guy!” Tim blushed. Little did she know he thought of her as Venus herself, rising straight from the greasy banks of the Schuylkill river.

“Stay sweet, hon,” she said. “Don’t let things get to you.”

All that night, Tim thought Lulu seemed changed from the previous years. Tired, he thought. Distracted. Maybe getting over some illness. He stuck around, nervous, while she counted the receipts after closing at midnight. Nobody had won anything.  

“Does he hit you?” he blurted out, surprising himself that he’d actually said what he’d imagined so many times.

“Don’t you worry, Tim. I’ll be fine,” she said, stashing two twenties in a compartment in her wallet, then putting the rest in a tin strongbox.

In the past Hoyt would take it all.

“How’d we do?”

“Always good opening night,” she replied. “It usually gets less, after they see they ain’t gonna win anything. Embarrasses ‘em to lose.”

“Does it bother you, Lulu? Ripping people off all the time?”

“Nah. See how they flock in? Every friggin’year. Year in, year out, they come to get took. These hot summer nights—like the moths flittin around them lights, Tim—all they think about is gettin’ drunk and gettin’ laid.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “That’s the way it is for guys, for sure.”

“The girls are lookin’ for it too, honey,” she pointed across the dusty lot. “Still a few floatin’ around. There’s a couple of cuties over on that last Ferris wheel ride, son. You’s off work now. Go hang by the gate where they get off.”

“I’d just as soon talk to you.”

“Aww, you sure are a good one, Tim. You want a cold beer? I got some over in the trailer.”

“I’ll follow you,” he said hopefully.

“Nope. You better stay here,” she winked. “No telling who’s watching. Don’t want no rumors gettin’ back to ol’ Hoyt.”

While Lulu sashayed to her trailer, Tim waited alone at the booth, watching her illuminated figure slink into the humid black void surrounding the strings of harsh bulbs.  Thinking how he could get her somewhere. Somewhere alone.  

She returned in a few minutes carrying two open cans of Bud.

Their routine became the order of things for the next week. After working the crowds each night, Tim and Lulu would have a beer or two while closing down. She’d talk about life on the road. She told him about marrying Hoyt and joining the carnival at sixteen.

He discussed what he intended to do in the Fall. Maybe go to business school, maybe not. It kinda depended on what happened that summer. If everything else failed, there was always the mill, spewing it’s steel scale and smoke into the air.

Deeper and deeper, more familiar their conversations became. Night after sweltering night, they spoke in quiet, relaxed rapport. It was obvious to Tim, even at his young age, that the woman didn’t often get to talk freely with people anywhere near her own age. Just hustle. Then leave the town a little poorer, she and Hoyt just getting by.

Tim’s growing obsession with Lulu made him unable to even think of his girlfriend, Sue. He lost his appetite for food and pined all day until six o’clock, until once again joined with his buxom blonde boss. Flirty babes around his age attending the carnival meat market didn’t hold a candle to Lulu, and he hardly noticed any of them. After work, Tim always tried to get the conversation around to sex, but Lulu had a way of fending him off. Yet her southern drawl kept him enthralled, chomping the bit all the while.

Desperate, Tim finally made his move, several days before the carnival closed for the year. “Let’s get out of here afterwards,” he said. “I know a place we can go.”

“Where’s your car?” she asked, a little more enthusiastically than he would have guessed. “Don’t nobody need to see us runnin’ off together.”

“Okay. Tan fifty-five Ford. Over by Kresge’s. I’ll go over now.”

Not twenty minutes later, the two were sitting in the front seat with a cold six-pack, parked by the river near the steel mill’s discharge flue.  

“You got a church key?” Lulu asked, knowing every teenager has a beer opener in the glove compartment of his first car. It was a rite of passage.

“Yep,” Tim replied, proud he was so grown-up.

He popped one for her first and handed it over. He opened his, slugging a long draught, nearly half gone on the first swig. He finished on the second pull, crushing the steel can with one hand.

“Slow down, muscleman. You got to drive me back to the fair.”

“I can handle it,” Tim choked, tears blearing his eyes, the warm flush of the chugged bravery rising in his face.

“You boys think you can do anything with women, don’t you? Show off a little and you think we’ll cave.”

“What? I never hurt girls.”

“Not intentionally, maybe. But what would your girlfriend say if she knew we were in this situation. Here in the car with me. I’ll bet you’ve brought her to this place too.”

“I don’t think I have anybody that in love with me,” he lied. “I’m always going out with different girls.”

Sure, there was the one who’d chased him since seventh grade. Jeanie never did take the hint, and Tim was too sensitive to tell her it would never work. Christ, the only time he’d ever tried to touch Jeanie’s breast, she’d burst out crying. Brought up so square her parents would go out when she had a party. That’s how much they trusted their daughter, leaving teenagers by themselves. That trust was certainly warranted, because in the six years she’d persisted, Tim had made no headway on Jeanie at all. And vice-versa.

Lulu said, “A good-looking boy like you shouldn’t have no trouble gettin’ laid.”

“Yep,” Tim lied again, puffing out his chest. “Been doing some of that.” Although at the time, the only things Tim had ever done sexually with another human being were getting a few hand jobs at this same lover’s lane, a couple of all-guy circle-jerks and playing stink finger behind Gino’s with the slut from Croyden.

“Do you want to come sit here?” Tim asked tentatively, shooting his eyes’ focus beside him on the bench seat.

Lulu grinned, “I thought you’d never ask,” shuffling her hips until they touched his.

He placed an arm around her shoulder, pulled her toward him then planted a desperate kiss right on Lulu’s lips, something he’d run over and over a thousand times using his pillow and vivid imagination. To his surprise, she welcomed him with open lips, soft, pliable, giving, submissive, fiery, hungry, demanding, sweet, tart. All at once, Tim’s every kiss fantasy fulfilled to the letter. After several moments, they pulled apart.

“Wow,” they said in unison.

“But let’s not go too fast,” she said, sliding her hand from his thigh. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. For you, I mean.”

“No,” he shot back. “This is the only time we have. You’re leaving town in three days.”

“Aw, honey,” she said. “I wish we could have started this last week.”

“Jeez! You mean you’ve been wanting this too? All this time we could’ve had. Why didn’t you say something?”

Lulu blushed in the darkness, “Period. Up until yesterday.”

Once again Tim drew her against his chest. This time the kiss lasted longer.  They explored each other as if they’d never touched the opposite sex at all, as if it were the first time for either of them. Of course, it was their first time, but it held none of the awkwardness of first encounters. It all happened so smoothly, albeit mechanically.

Lulu unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, her face hovered above his lap. Half his cock disappeared into her soft mouth. She sucked him into her warm lips, bobbing in a steady rhythm over his open pants. He didn’t last long.

They each smoked a cigarette then dove into one another again. Lulu removed her jeans and asked Tim to hold a hand between her legs.

“Just cup me, Tim. Press your entire palm on me. … There, baby.”

“Aw, Lulu. You’re so wet down here.”

“It’s you, Tim. I’ve been waiting for this. Oh, Tim. Finally we get to be together.”

“You too? Aw, Lulu. Why didn’t you say something last year?”

“I couldn’t. Not before. You were too young before.”

“But- I would have-”

“Yeah,” she replied, “you would have. I would have too, but what about after? When I went away, I’d have that on my conscience, baby. That I’d been some kind of predator. Robbin’ the cradle. Press me harder, Tim.”

“It would have been the best thing that could happen. How old are you anyway?”

“Hasn’t anybody told you that you should never ask a lady that question?”

“Umm… Sorry,” he said.

“I’m twenty two, if you must know. Press me harder, Tim.”

“Jeez- only four years older than me,” he mumbled. Tim knew immediately that he’d made another faux pas; Lulu appeared to him much older, worn. He hoped she didn’t notice his reaction. He had to change the flow of conversation and hope to get away with it. “And there’s Hoyt” he said. “Hoyt was always there.”

“Yeah,” chuckled Lulu. “Forgot about that. He was, wasn’t he?”

“Is he a prick to you?”

Now it was Lulu’s turn to change direction. “Well,” she said, “we don’t have to think about Hoyt now. He’s a hundred miles from here, sweetie. Hug me again. Move your hand, Tim. Up and down. Higher. Press me higher. Yeah. Like that.”

“I have condoms in the glove compartment.”

“Let’s just have this for tonight, hon. Let’s leave something for us later. Let’s do this like we’re falling for each other. Like in the movies, Tim. Like we have the rest of our lives. Like we’re teenagers.”

“But we can be together,” he pleaded. “I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to do this carnival shit any more. You won’t have to hustle. It’ll be you and me from now on, Lulu. I’ve wanted you too.”

“I could see it in your eyes, Tim. Right from the start, I knew we’d get together.”

“I only wished. I never in my-”

“Wettest dreams?”

“Hehe. You’re just great, Lulu.”

“Now press harder, Tim. Press between my legs. Yesss.”

Tim pulled her skimpy panties aside, slipping several fingers under the damp fabric to the spongy pool of her sopping pussy. “Like that?” he said.

“Just like that. Only more. Squirm your hand around there, baby. Find the warmest, wettest places.” Lulu ground her pelvis harder into his hand. “Then your thumb. Up higher with your thumb. Press there … oooo … do circles there.”

“This bump? Here?”

“Now circle there. Go around and around. Your thumb. Ahhhh, Tim.”

Lulu bucked against him, breathing hard, knees scissoring open and closed on the seat, crushing his inexperienced hand while Tim tried to hold on to her frothing cunt. Her gyrations steadily increased in power and intensity until she proclaimed her orgasm into the hot summer night, frantic screams masked by eruptions and sparkly glare of the steel mill’s open hearth.

The next night, they balled in the back seat. For Tim, it was his first sexual intercourse ever. By the following night, the young man was hopelessly in love.

“Lulu? Can’t we go to your trailer tonight? I’ll make sure nobody sees. I’ll go away and come back. Nobody’ll know. This is our last night, y’know. I want to do it in a bed, like civilized people.”

“I don’t know, hon. That carnival Hoyt’s workin’ is over tonight too. He’s coming back tomorrow. Don’t know when he’ll get here. Might be early. We’re heading outside Boston after this.”

Tim’s disappointment showed and he saw that Lulu saw it too. “You mean this is it?” he said. “You’re not leaving him?”

“No, hon. Hoyt and me need each other. In other ways.”

“But he’s so much older,” Tim protested. “You’re too young to be with him. Fucking idiot he is, stealing your youth. Did you even finish high school? Go on a fucking date?”

“He’s taught me a lot. Hoyt’s got lots of good points.”

“Like what? Like going from town to town, ripping off working folks? That’s a living?”

“Now, Tim. You’re talking about stuff you don’t know nothin’ about. You’re seeing all this with blinders on. You’re blinded by this crush we have, and you’re not thinking about me. My needs—besides what we have together—you and me.”

“So I can’t stay tonight?”

“I didn’t say that, did I?”

“Can I?” Tim begged. “Please, just for a little while?”

“You’ll have to get in and out before daylight.”

“Okay! Out by daylight,” he agreed. At this point, he’d agree to anything, just for one more night with his southern enchantress.

Meanwhile, in Wilmington, Hoyt broke down his doll booth in a haphazard hurry, eager to get out of town before the town vigilantes got to him. He’d managed to get into a fistfight with a local and the Carnival directors asked him never to return. By midnight, he was speeding north on Route 1, toward Pennsylvania, listening to the new Beatles album and popping white pills.

Tim and Lulu made love for a long time in the tiny bedroom.  She was on top, straddling him when a voice growled from the door of the trailer.

“Lulu!”

Tim’s head popped up, killing the mood for both of them. “Did you hear that?” he said.

A white flash of fear coursed through the room.

“Hoyt!” whispered Lulu.

“God!” Tim jumped out of his skin. “He’s here?”

“LULU! You there, baby?”

“Oh—shhh, sweetie,” whispered Lulu. “But don’t worry. I can take care of Hoyt. You go out the back way, Tim. Wait here while I distract him … Ahem!… I’m right here, Hoyt baby! You home, Baby?”

Tim stayed as quiet as he could, searching the tangled bedding for his pants and shoes, assisted only by the abstract illumination through the slats of broken blinds. He heard Lulu say, “Honey bunch! You come home to me early, baby!”

“I just couldn’t stay away any longer,” said Hoyt from the living room. “Bring that sweet ass over here, girl. Mmmm. You’re wet.”

“I been fingerin’ myself, just thinkin’ about you, sweetheart. Been so long since I had that sweet thang!”

“That’s my Lulu.”

“C’mere. Let me take it out, hon. Let me get down on my knees, an’ suck you off, baby.”

“Hehe. That could be arranged,” Hoyt said, unbuckling his belt.

Tim searched around for something heavy that would put the huge man’s lights out. Something big enough that he wouldn’t get up again. If Hoyt did get up, he’d make short work of his much slighter foe. Tim looked back to his lover, on her knees, deep-throating the biggest cock Tim had ever seen.

And that’s when the realization hit him. Tim saw how Lulu sucked her husband’s cock, eyes wide with deep respect, committed to the gesture as she never had been with Tim. She laved the huge thing with sloppy lips, rubbing it over her face and neck and ears, massaging the leaky knob with the flat of her tongue. Looking up into Hoyt’s eyes in submissive admiration.

The young voyeur could see from his vantage point that Lulu did in fact love Hoyt. Where her sex with Tim had been business-like, clinical, he saw the passion she displayed with her husband. At one glance, Tim realized that she would never be as intense with him. A moment earlier, Tim was ready to knock the man out. But now he felt sorry for Hoyt. Why this woman, who obviously loved Hoyt so much, would ever cheat.

Must be the carnival, Tim figured. Must be this is how these low lifes live—lying—cheating everybody. Why not lie among themselves too? Tim suddenly had mixed feelings about what he’d done.

But he was mostly glad he’d popped his cherry, and now he wouldn’t be that awkward with future girls.

Tim, now embarrassed, found his way out the back like Lulu had suggested. He didn't want to witness this thing any more. His girlfriend Sue, the little brunette from school, was looking better and better.

While Tim made his departure, Lulu maneuvered Hoyt to the sofa and spread her legs. “Wanna play here, baby?” she pressed her palm to her squishy cunt lips, pulling them apart with her fingers, actively distorting their shape so Hoyt could see the living pink flesh through the dark, damp frizzle surrounding her soppy divide.

Lulu took her husband’s cock and directed the bulb of the thing toward her oozing entrance, still slick with Tim’s juices. She slowly drew Hoyt into her welcoming heat.

Hoyt bridged himself over her, looking down at the wanton creature writhing under his thrusts, the width of his massive cock stretching her until she thought she’d split up the middle.

“Fuck me, Hoyt. Fuck me hard,” she gasped.

“Didn’t your virgin boyfriend fuck you enough? You did fuck him, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Yes I fucked the daylights out of him, Hoyt. He was so sweet. He even took me parking!”

“Okay, tell me, groaned Hoyt. “Tell me while I fuck you. You know how I love to hear you talk about getting fucked by young guys. Don’t you?”

“Yes, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me hard and I’ll tell you. How he fucked me in the back of his car. I put one foot up by the back window, the other leg over the front seat. Oh, did he let me have it. Then I showed him how to fuck a girl in the ass, Hoyt. I taught him how to eat me out. I let him come in my mouth and just about told him my husband doesn’t love me any more. Yes, just so he’d use his youthful fucking energy on my filthy, gluttonous appetite.”

“Aw, baby. Lulu, you’re my saving grace. At my age, I shouldn’t have a libido at all. Damn, if it weren’t for you, you cock-hungry little slut, I’d never get it up again. How’s this feel up your cunt? How’s the old man now, baby? Do I fuck like a teenager or do I fuck you like a man?”

“Like a man, Hoyt. You fuck like my loving man who lets me do whatever you kept me from doing when I was young. Oh, fuck. Ahh … do me, Hoyt baby. Do me like my adult lover. I just had my prom, my graduation, another teenage conquest, all wrapped up in Tim. Fuck me, Hoyt. Fuck me harder!”

“Oh, I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you, Lulu. Did you suck his cock down your throat? Did it fit? Did you like when he ate you out? Tell me, cunt. Did he fuck you long? Did he shoot his fucking wad right away? How big was his teenage cock?”

Hoyt pounded into her as she cried out. Without concern for her tender parts, he increased the slam of his thrusts until she sprung back up off the couch from the recoil each time he drew back from an assault. “Was the kid good? Did his skinny little cock get into your body this far? Stretch you? Did he slam you like this, you little wanton? Did he fuck your sloppy, free-ass pussy like I do?”

“No, baby. Nobody fucks like this. Not like you’re giving it to me now. Fuck me. Fuck me, Hoyt.”

“Tell me more.”

“He just left now, the little budding cocksman. After you came through the door like a cuckold. He was fucking me when you came in. I was straddling him, Hoyt. Kneeling over him. My tits were slapping his face.”

“So that’s why you’re so wet. Is this his come inside you?”  

“Yes, he came in me not fifteen minutes ago, baby. I drained his balls.”

“Aw, baby. I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come with this fucking talk. My come’s gonna mix with his inside you.”

“I swallowed his come too, Hoyt. Kiss me. Taste his come in my mouth, baby. Taste Tim’s come on my face. On my chin. In my hair. He fucked my ass.”

Hoyt fell on Lulu with a shudder that incapacitated both bodies. The strokes slowed as their mutual orgasms reached a crescendo, both trying to string the ecstasy out, prolong it, grinding their respective organs side to side, a slick mashing of pubic hair, pressing deeper and deeper against Lulu’s pulsing contractions.

“Whew!” exclaimed Hoyt, once they’d caught a breath. “Wow, that was great. Hope you have more stories like that for me.”

“Yeah,” said Lulu. “We’ll get some mileage from this affair. He thinks I’m stealing from you too. I gave him that, just to make him feel better about what he was doing. He thought he was saving me from you, baby. Not break up a good relationship. He wanted to run away with me.”

“You’re so thoughtful. It’ll be something he’ll remember all his life. A good lesson for the lad.”

“Okay, on to the next town,” said Lulu. “In Massachusetts, isn’t it? Think that boy from last summer will be there? He said he’d be back.”

“Yeah. ‘David’, wasn’t it? But he’s still got a year to go before he turns eighteen.”

______________
2014 Daddy X. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Daddy X always wanted to be a dirty old man. He's survived the 40's, 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's, 90's, and George W. Bush. He maintained good humor throughout Catholic school, a paper route, muskrat trapping, a steel mill, Bucks County, Haight Ashbury, North Beach, Castro Street, the Mendocino Coast, the SF bar business, drug addiction, alcoholism, a stroke, Hep C, cancer, a liver transplant, a year of interferon, a stickup at his ancient art gallery while tied to a desk (not as cool as it sounds), a triple bypass, and George W. Bush.  Now he's old, and it's time to get dirty. He's been with Momma X (greatest editor on earth) for fifty years, but she thinks his stuff is too skievy to deal with. They live in northern California with an epileptic 90 lb lop-eared hound (17" wingspan) and two cats. They raise little green girls to medicinal maturity each and every year.

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