Now its AnySuburb.

That's too bad. I'm glad my hometown is far enough away from major cities that it will never really become a suburb, no matter how much a homogenizing American culture makes it feel like one. Though it's actually on its way to becoming an Urb of its own right, at least as much a one as Mississippi is capable of producing. Still, at least it will maintain its culture.

Not that I love its culture. But it shouldn't be destroyed.

Susan, liked it muchly. You made me feel it. Nova, what style? Sometimes, I'm shockingly style-free. Thank you, though. If you want to believe I'm a stylist, I shouldn't show you the woman behind the curtain, should I? But it's mostly smoke and mirrors. And cursing. And OD-ing on New Journalism.(/David Simon likes urban carrots) Deena, caustic people dying is, like, my favorite entertainment experience.

Maybe it's the style-freeness that gives it such an interesting style.

Any beta readers around?

This is the first chunk of the prologue for the new book, the one about what feeds on vampires, and why. Not a lot of it - just need to know if the style flows and the tension builds.

Deb, I'm around but can't beta right now (trying to be good myself)...but I saw your post and couldn't resist saying hello. Miss you already, bebe!

t /natter

Vampires! I'll bite.

(Har har.)

Deb, I'd be happy to help out. I can probably get comments back to you by Friday if not tomorrow.

Damn. Some excellent pieces here, but I think Deb broke me. Meanwhile:

Tequila Sunrise

Cat-quiet she slides out of bed, listening to his breath hitch into a snore. One heel points at the ceiling, another sleeps under a puddle of black and burgundy fabric too shiny and sheer for daylight. He snores again. She shimmies into her dress, ponders dirty underwear for a moment and then, shrugging, tucks it into her bag. The shoes hurt her feet.

In the mirror, her face is oddly naked. Kohl smudges and the ghost of lipstick define her face, a girl he never saw. She feels both euphoric and tarnished, eager to escape.

She can't recall his name.

Oh, Fay, *what* a vignette. So nice. But which one of mine broke you?

Anne, PC, sending as part of an email. I'm writing more as you're reading; really it's just the first three or so pages.

KRISTIN! Miss you back, my lamb.

Deb, I can get back to you for sure by Friday as well, if you'd like to send. I'm missing you, too. You, and all of SF through your eyes.