Pink Now Available as an Ebook

Yay for snow days!  It gave me the opportunity to finalize and upload Pink early.  As such:

The flash fiction story Pink is now available in ebook form.  It’s currently available on the Google Play store, on Scribd, and on Smashwords.  It should be rolling out to the other stores soon, with the exception of Amazon.  Kindle users will need to read it online here or download the mobi from Smashwords… or wait until I have a collection that I can put up on Amazon.  I’ll update Pink’s library entry with additional links when they become available.

Pink

#6, that was the tarnished brass number on the door. His lucky number. He pushed the room key into the battle-scarred lock and turned. It took a bit of jiggling, but the knob reluctantly gave in, and Fleming stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him.pink

He’d been in this room, or one of its countless siblings, many times before. It was a room where the insects skittered across the floor in the night, while bigger prey skittered in the walls. The hotel, or maybe it was a motel, was the sort of place where the blue collars brought their cheap prostitutes for a quick pump, where the front office didn’t ask for ID and took cash, where those who didn’t want to be found could spend a night with a roof over their heads. It smelled of semen and desperation, and it suited Fleming just fine.

He thumbed the deadbolt and leaned back against the door. He took a deep breath and then another. He was safe. Well, for the moment; he couldn’t linger. The gap under the door, an inch high if not two, let in a dull glow from the one working light in the parking lot. The light also slipped in through a crack in the curtains. Otherwise, the room was as dark as a tomb. Sadly, it was less quiet. Fleming could hear a television, much too loud for this time of night, blaring through the wall, as well as a rhythmic thumping, punctuated by moans and the well-practiced “oh, yeah’s” of a pro.

Fleming reached over and twitched the curtains the rest of the way closed. He clicked on the light switch and walked toward the bathroom. Here, the scent shifted to one of stale urine and old shit. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and turned on the exhaust fan. Standing in the middle of the dingy linoleum floor, he began shedding his clothes, dropping them into a pile at his feet. He winced as he eased out of his shirt. His right arm from the shoulder down ached, like he’d gone ten rounds for the heavyweight title. He dropped the shirt on top of the pile and toed off his socks, trying not to think about what his bare feet might now come in contact with. He reached into the tub and turned on the hot tap as high as it would go. Glancing at the threadbare towel and washcloth, the former of which had a disconcerting stain in the corner, he was glad he’d brought his own. From his overnight bag, he withdrew a towel and washcloth, cheap but new. The bag went on top of the toilet seat and the towels on the top of the bag. Turning the cold tap on just enough to keep from being scalded, he pulled the lever to engage the shower. It sputtered to life, and he stepped into the tub.

He stood under the spray, his head down and eyes closed, letting the water run over him. He laid his left arm against the shower wall (no way he could lift the right above chest level now) and rested his head against it. He was elated, still riding that high, but very soon exhaustion would begin to descend. Before that happened, he’d need to burn the clothes, washcloth and towel, too. He’d need to clean out the drain when he was done showering. He’d seen on TV where the cops could get into a drain trap and find all kinds of interesting bits and pieces. He didn’t intend for any of those to be his. He should still have 3, maybe 4 hours of darkness left. Plenty of time. So long as he kept moving.

He opened his eyes and pushed away from the wall. There was a red stripe on the tile where his arm had been. He rubbed at it with his hand but that only smeared it. That’s okay, he told himself. He had a spray bottle of bleach and several rags in his bag. He’d have to wipe down everything he’d touched and began to make a mental note of every surface his bare hands or feet had, or might have, come into contact with in the room. When he finished, this room’d probably be the cleanest it had been in years. Maybe decades.

With hands that trembled slightly, which he chalked up to leftover adrenalin working its way out of his system or maybe the exertion of his earlier activities, he lathered up the washcloth and began to scrub. The soapy water cascaded off him and swirled down the drain. It was pink.

Cross-posted from bdcrowell.com:

It took me awhile to get around to it, but I’ve finally started putting the books up on the Google Play store.  They’re not all up there, but I have titles from both BD Crowell and D Lee Warren up, and I’m working on the rest, updating the back matter as I go.  I’m updating the Library with links as they go live in the store.  Just in the short time they’ve been up, with no advertising or fanfare from my camp, Google has already moved several copies.  I’m excited and looking forward to what we’re going to accomplish together.
English: Google Logo officially released on Ma...
English: Google Logo officially released on May 2010 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In other news, Pink is back from beta reading and Boundless just went out for beta reading.  With any luck, I can get Pink finalized and published this weekend and maybe get Boundless out early next month.  I’m also making good progress on Bound and slow but steady progress on A Christmas Tale.  I’ve resumed work on Parts.  It’s been a challenging piece and isn’t coming easily, but I’m still plugging away at it and hope to see it through to completion one of these days.  I’ve limited myself to 4 active writing projects at a time so I don’t get spread too thinly but always have something in the pipe.  I’m trying to stick to 80% writing projects, 20% blog posts during my writing time.  And I work on illustrations whenever I can (which I plan to ramp up soon, but I’ll discuss that in another blog post).  You can always see where I’m at in the queue by visiting the Works in Progress (WIP) section of the Library.

That’s it for now.  I hope the rest of your winter isn’t too cold.