|
On the Jacket
Once they were on the road, Val asked, “Is there some reason you didn’t want to call a cop back there?”
“Well...” Alain massaged his temple. “I just didn’t want to attract any more attention to myself. I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile.”
“Why?”
“I’m on an investigation,” Alain explained. “I’m trying to find someone who’s ripping off my client.”
“Ah,” Val nodded. “Maybe they found you first.”
Alain blinked, realizing that she might have been right. It was as easy to believe the blackmailer had hit him, as it was for an anonymous mugger to have done it. After all, a mugger would have robbed him and probably taken his car. Alain took out his wallet, and opened it. His cash was gone, but his credit cards were all still there. What mugger doesn’t take your credit cards?
“Or maybe,” Val continued, “it was a mugger, and they only had time to take your camera before someone showed up.”
Alain found he couldn’t argue with either suggestion, especially because his throbbing head was making it difficult to keep a coherent thought. So he nodded vaguely. He kept silent until he saw his motel coming up. “I’m staying here,” he said finally. “Pull in there, and go to the far end of the parking lot. Number 122.”
Val did as she was directed, and when she reached the far end of the lot, commented, “You seem to like out of the way parking spots.”
“Only thing available,” Alain lied.
Val pulled into a slot, shut the car off, and climbed out. She came around to the passenger’s side and helped Alain out of the car. By now, Alain was mostly able to walk on his own, but Val kept a hand on his arm as she walked him over to his door. Alain couldn’t help but take notice of this wildly costumed but exceptionally nice girl, going out of her way to help him—after all, it was not the kind of selflessness that happened much around Washington, or that would be expected from someone dressed like a punk vampire—and part of him wished that he was in a better condition, physically and mentally, to appreciate it.
Alain unlocked the door, and the two of them entered his room. Val steered him over to the unused bed and eased him onto his back, where Alain lay back and cupped a hand over his head. When he was down, Val looked him over, paying particular attention to his head. Then she straightened up and stood by the bed.
“Get some rest. You look like you’re going to be okay.” Then she started for the door.
“Wait,” Alain said, and she paused. “Val... I really appreciate your helping me out. I realize you were going out of your way...”
“No sweat, man,” Val said, putting her hands on her hips and striking a haughty pose. “This world may suck, but I don’t see any reason to make it worse.”
“I’d like to be able to thank you properly,” Alain said, though he realized he was not sure himself exactly how he should do that.
Val cocked her head, and she smiled, giving Alain the distinct feeling that she was somehow reading his mind. To make the feeling worse, she suddenly moved over to the bed and knelt over him, placing her arms on either side of him on the bed to keep him in place. She had a strong sexual presence, and even in his groggy state, Alain couldn’t ignore it. “And how would you like to do that, Alain?”
Buy Lambs Hide, Tigers Seek
|
Lambs Hide, Tigers Seek: Not what it seems to be
 My story about private investigator Alain Guest comes with a confession of my own.
No, it has nothing to do with doing my story research by actually visiting bondage bars (if that had been a requirement to do this story, my wife would have made sure it would never have been written). It also doesn't involve my revealing actual people that this story is based on or written about—thank goodness. No... this confession is about the story itself (and no, this is not a spoiler).
Are you ready?
It was originally supposed to be a mystery.
It's true. I admit it. This is not the story I set out to write. A few months before I started this story, various people who had read my science fiction novels suggested to me that they loved mysteries, and that they'd love to see me write one. It took me a while to consider the suggestion, since I'd never written a mystery story before. But one day a plotline came to me, and as it so happened, it was a mystery story, so I said, "What the hell? I'll give it a shot."
So I started to develop the story, fleshed out the characters, sweated out my opening, and got started. I was writing a mystery story then, and I looked forward to seeing how well things would develop.
But somewhere along the line, I realized that things had changed. Occasionally, a writer will start to write a story, only to discover that the story has its own idea of what should be written. What finally comes out is sometimes nothing like what the writer imagined it would be at its beginning. As I labored on my mystery, I realized that the mystery itself had quietly shifted out of the driver's seat, and was now the passenger of my vehicle. Someone else was now firmly behind the wheel.
So don't be fooled. This is a story about the personal journey of investigator Alain Guest. The mystery is just along for the ride.
Poor Alain Guest is a sort of Everyman that many of us never see. He has problems, sure... lots of us have problems. But some of us do not have the support of friends, relatives, even a close bartender, to help us through tough times. Some of us are alone and unknown. And as Alain demonstrates, that lack of support can sometimes be the only thing separating sanity and psychosis. The next time you see homeless people walking about aimlessly and talking to themselves, reflect upon the fact that many of them are there because of a lack of a connection to others that would have helped ground them in reality, and could have helped save their lives.
To those who were expecting a classic whodunit out of me, I can only apologize. You'll just have to settle for a little noir-style psychological drama and social commentary instead. Maybe next time.
 Buy Lambs Hide, Tigers Seek
|
|
Don't be afraid
Although the book's cover and blurbs might suggest that there is a lot of explicit bondage sex going on inside... there isn't. The subjects are discussed, but are tastefully and discreetly handled. So don't pass up on this book, on the impression that it might be too racy. Trust me, you can get wilder stuff from basic cable.
|
This site is designed to be fully functional to those with disabilities. Is yours?