Monday, October 18, 2010

Nightshade Writing Contest

A couple months ago, I read Nightshade by Andrea Cremer.  And I'd heard good things.  She and the amazingly talented author of Personal Demons, the one and only Lisa Desrochers, are critique partners.  My intention when I opened Nightshade was to read a chapter before bed.

Three hours later, I finished the book (with a gasp!) and felt addicted.

While other teenage girls daydream about boys, Calla Tor imagines ripping out her enemies’ throats. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. Calla was born a warrior and on her eighteenth-birthday she’ll become the alpha female of the next generation of Guardian wolves. But Calla’s predestined path veers off course the moment she saves the life of a wayward hiker, a boy her own age. This human boy’s secret will turn the young pack's world upside down and forever alter the outcome of the centuries-old Witches' War that surrounds them all.

Now, how can you get your hands on a copy? You must win a writing contest! (hey, these are fun).

Here's what you've have to do.

Write a story, one hundred words or fewer, using these words:

Moon
Hormones
Claws
Blood
Curse

Bonus points if you can include this phrase: "Krokolian Rage."

Contest opens NOW, and runs through midnight Wednesday, October 20th. Post your entry in the comments section.

Enter as many times as you want.

52 comments:

Shelley Watters said...

Yay! Commenter #1! Here's my entry. Great contest.

“Dan?” Mer called and peered down the darkened alley. Steam billowed up from the grates in the cracked pavement. The moon peeked from behind the curtain of clouds and a beam of light filtered down into the dank alley. Something crouched in the shadows.

The sharp sound of claws scraping on concrete made her blood freeze in her veins.

“Stay away from me,” he growled.

“Please Dan – I’m sorry. It was just the hormones talking. I didn’t mean to…” His sharp curse cut her off.

“It’s not you. It’s the Kokolian Rage.”

Tami Moore said...

“Skitch, you’re a mouse.”

“Not for long, I won’t be! You - you just stand back! Once that moon rises, the curse will take effect and oh! The claws! The blood!” Skitch cowered, wringing his tail in woe. “I won’t be able to help myself! The hormones will take hold and I’ll be lost!”

Anretta folded her ears back. “Ricco lied when he said being bitten by a cat meant you’d turn into one.”

“Really?”

“Reallyreally,” Anretta smiled, pressing her whiskers forward. “Give us a squidge, eh?”

Skitch scampered over for a hug, and Anretta resolved to make Ricco pay.

Mesmerix said...

Billy and I moseyed by the cages, our bear claws steadily disappearing inside our mouths.

“Monkeys go nuts on a full moon,” Billy said.

“Mating season?” I asked.

He lifted his eyebrows, widened his swagger. “Hormones, boil a monkey’s blood.”

While he waxed zoologically, I finished my pastry. Billy cursed confining wildlife (notably the male species) behind iron bars.

“See?” He pointed at two neighboring exhibits. A Savannah lion flaunted his fangs to a crocodile across the footpath. The croc snapped in response and the lion roared.

As the posturing escalated Billy hollered, “A classic example of Krokolian rage.”

Robolobolyn's Universe of Books said...

Here's my first story. I'm sure they will be more!


She stared at the moon, claws digging into the earth beneath her. She couldn’t lose control. Not tonight. Her blood pumped, her hormones raced. She could feel the change coming.
The sounds of a Krokolian rage came from the howls in the distance. It excited her wolf and she had to strain harder to keep it at bay. But it was too late. She knew it even as she strained against it. This curse was taking over her body and she knew it was only a matter of time before it took over her mind as well.

-Robyn
robolobolyn03ATgmailDOTcom

Trisha Wolfe said...

His hormones were all fired up and I could feel his nails- now claws- sinking into my skin.

“Jenna, are you sure?” Jake asked as he unzipped his jeans.

“Yes,” I huffed, snagging his jeans form his hand. “Just hurry up.”

Still clinging to my hand, he crouched under my open window. His cursed, fur-covered body pulsed as the blood-red moon peaked, sending him into convulsions powered by the Krokolian Rage I gave him.

I watched motionless as a howl ripped from his throat, and he sprang from my window.

Pleased, I lifted the jar to my lips. My turn.

Robolobolyn's Universe of Books said...

My second story...


She woke up with a curse, the leftover hormones from her dream making her mind fuzzy. What had awoken her? Katelyn looked around the room and her gaze fell upon her cat, Fredia, lit up by the glow of the moon.


Fredia was sitting by the chair, sharpening her claws. There was dried blood on her face, and her fur was a mess. The cat’s eyes were full of Krokolian rage, leaving Katelyn to believe that her cat had just been out hunting. Sure enough, there was a dead rat sitting beside her on Katelyn's new carpet.

-Robyn
robolobolyn03ATgmailDOTcom

Sarah W said...

The moon curse was upon her.

Hormones sang in her blood, triggering fearsome changes in her skin, her mind, her very soul. Thrumming with pain and temper, she fled to the one place that might provide comfort and focus until the danger passed. She flung open the door, breaking the seal, and stared into the swirling mist.

Denied? Denied now?

She clawed her hair back from her flushed face and threw back her head to howl in Krokolian Rage:

"Who ate all the Häagen-Dazs?!"

tymcon said...

International?

Erin B said...

So fun. Love these kinds of contests. Here's my entry:

-----

They were playing that game again, the seats reclined back as they stared at the evening sky through the moonroof.

“Talons and claws,” she offered.

His response was swift, effortless: “Gallons of Gauze.”

“Purple Purse.”

“Verbal Curse.”

“Hormones.”

“Four clones.”

She sighed heavily. There was no beating him. She should have known this, and yet she always tried, always remained hopeful.

“Krokolian Rage,” she said finally.

“That’s cheating. It’s not even real.”

“Sure it is. It’s the wrath of your four clones.”

His eyes were bloodshot, tired. “You could have just said ‘orange.’”

Lale said...

Awesome contest. Here's my rather odd entry. (Stemmed from a mix of tiredness and PMS, I assume).


I hate the full moon. Although the Shifting part is pretty cool, it always means an extra load of laundry. Why? Because fate, as well as making me a werewolf, decided that it would be a great time for me to get that monthly visit from Mother Nature. Let me tell you, taking preventative measures before a Shift is asking for toxic shock syndrome, so once a month I wake up with claw-dirt caked under my fingernails and bloodstained sheets. I never thought of lycanthropy as a curse before I turned fourteen. Now it’s annoying enough to warrant a hysterectomy. Stupid hormones.

ninidee said...

I love contests like these. I thought I would take a stab at it.

Here is my entry.

There was a full moon the night the evil one put the curse that forever changed the girl I once was. He was a beast of a man. I blame my hormones for attracting the god-awful pug-faced ghoul. As his claws pierced my chest he shouted “Krokolian Rage.” My blood was replaced with the tar they filled their bodies with. My pretty blonde hair shriveled to nothing and my smooth porcelain face filled with goiters the size of quarters. I was no longer a girl. I was a servant for a demon named Krokolian. I dream of being saved.

Tynga said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
April X said...

Heres my first story. First time I've ever done something like this, but I may write more later :)

The blood ran down the wall, slipping between the cracks made by her claws. The moonlight was too bright, making everything too visible, too real. Her heart felt heavy as she realized what she had done. Who she just killed. The gravel shifted behind her, but she knew who it was. She couldn’t escape him.

“Thought you would have left by now.”
“Funny. I can’t ever leave this.” She couldn’t bear to burden others with her curse.

She felt him step closer, until he held her tenderly, but ultimately trapping her against the wall. Damn hormones.

“Fine by me.”

aprilxu2222@gmail.com

Jessica said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Leigh said...

Hormones be damned, Addy would not let Sam get to her.
Even as her traitorous blood raced deafeningly in her veins, telling him what she willed him not to know. Face intent, he leaned in so close that she could smell the notes of spice and sweat that drew her to him. As if of their own accord, her claws ran down his beautiful face and neck ever so gently.
Her eyes flicked to the harvest moon, low in the sky, giving her the courage she needed to push him away. She must wait; her curse could not be his.

Jennifer said...

Fun, fun, thanks for the contest!

Here's mine:

His face was illuminated by the light of the moon, his dark eyes staring intently at me.
“Hurry up,” my sister hissed. Her date to the dance stood forlornly by. Her monthly curse had come early and she was brimming with that Anna Krokolian Rage. No love for him tonight.
“Cara!” she insisted.
I tried to remember that blood was thicker than…um…
My hormones went into overdrive when his lips touched mine.
Then reality rushed back when Anna’s manicured claws sunk into my arm.
“Bye,” she snapped at the boys, before she dragged me away.
Stupid Krokolian Rage.

taratyler said...

Thanks for the prompt.

The name Jayla Krokus triggers genus flora. But the peaceful image dies in the flash you spy her short, spiked, raven hair shooting up from a pale, moon pie face. You shiver coldness and death as she opens her vacant, black eyes to reveal the curse of a soulless creature apathetic to your pain. Her claws rip your flesh and she drinks your blood to fulfill her own survival instincts. Panting, her hormones finally subside as the Krokolian Rage is soothed. For now.

eden tyler said...

I love prompts like this!
And I just made it -- at 99 words (according to Word 2010).

* * *

Blood poured off my hands—fingers and palms drenched.
I turned left toward the moon, simply staring.
Ben grabbed my face gently, yet firmly, to shift my gaze.
“I—I had claws.”
My voice was weak, but his was softer still. “It’s our curse to bear. My hormones change me differently, but no less disastrously.”
I raised my focus to meet his eyes. Inhaling, I faced the truth.
“But I never truly believed…”
“I know, Sarah. I didn’t last summer, either.”
Body shaking, I stumbled toward the stream to wash away the reminder.
“Damn our Krokolian Rage,” I muttered.

Simon Hay Soul Healer said...

“What are you reading?”

“Krokolian Rage!” It was a new moon and my senses were heightened. I didn’t need to ask, I could smell the blood, the banana yoghurt she’d had for lunch, and I could hear the cat’s claws clicking on the tiles.

“Hormones?”

“It’s a curse. I wish I was a boy.”

“No you don’t.” I slumped on the floor beside her, and the sound of my heart beating was louder than her question.

“Dad?”

“Get the chains.”

Nicole Zoltack said...

The silvery light of the moon illuminated me as I stared at my reflection in the pond. Tears ran down my furry face, mixing with blood, my claws shining. An innocent camping trip, a fun dare… how had things turned so wrong?

Now I was doomed to suffer the Krokolian Rage curse. Somewhere in the distance, another werewolf howled, his long cry for help burned a hole in my heart, and made my hormones surged.

I howled back. Only another wolf could understand me now. I must find a companion, or risk losing what little sanity I had left.

Germaine said...

Norma slouched low in her seat. “God, they’re just so awful.”

“You want another drink?” Peggy asked.

“No.” Norma massaged her temples. “My head hurts.”

“You’re dripping on the table.”

“What?”

Peggy pointed to the blood. “Here,” she said, handing Norma a cocktail napkin.

Norma cursed, and started dabbing at her ears. “Sometimes they bleed.”

“Bobby’s here. He took me to see Moonraker at the—hey! ” Peggy grabbed Norma’s hand. “Take it easy. Don’t claw at them.”

“They hurt. What’s this band called anyway?”

“Krokolian Rage.”

“Like ‘raging hormones?’”

“No, like ‘they’re all the rage.’”

“I’ll have that drink now.”

Germaine said...

The hospital curtain twitched aside.

“Hello, Maggie,” said a woman in a white lab coat, a SAILOR MOON t-shirt underneath.

“We’re done?”

“Almost. We’re just waiting on your blood work.” She smiled, and Maggie’s stomach tightened.

“And my hormones…?”

The doctor consulted her clipboard. “There’s something we need to discuss.”

Fear dug its claws into Maggie’s heart.

The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. “You tested positive for Krokolian Rage.”

“No!”

“This doesn’t mean you can’t live a perfectly normal, healthy life. With the right medication and attitude, you can tame this thing. It doesn’t have to be a curse, Maggie.”

Heather Rebel said...

“Krokolian rage? Now I know you’re a hypochondriac,” Gavin mocks.

There’s only one way to prove it to him. Though I know the Man in the Moon mocks me, I lift my face to him, letting the hormones course through my blood.

“You…your fingers. They’re growing claws!” His panic is a testament to his new belief.

“I told you, the curse,” I bite out through the pain of transformation. Once complete, I warn him with a voice more like a growl, “Run.”

Nerine Dorman said...

“Krokolian Rage, definition reads ‘blood curse afflicting hormones of witches exposed to essence of Satyrium carneum during full moon’.” Thomas snapped the leather-bound tome shut with a satisfying thunk and beamed at me.

Well, that just sucks.” I examined my claws. How the hell was I going to hide this from the headmistress?

“You could always get your ma to write you a sick note.” The boy peered at me over the top of the book, which he clutched to his skinny chest.

I laughed. “Oh, dear, sweet Thomas, you don’t realise it, do you? My mother is the headmistress.”

Jess said...

Thanks for the contest! Here’s my entry:

“Ma, I’m sick of eating claws,” Rupert whined.

His mother continued to plunk black phalanx tips into a boiling pot of blood. “I’m sick of your hormones acting up, Rupert,” she said, handing him a bowl of the stew. “That’s twice you’ve brought that cursed girl home like this.”

“Oh, puh-lease,” Rupert said. “It’s more than a curse. Every full moon she turns into a psycho krokolian rage queen.”

“A vampire son with a foot fetish.” His mother shook her head at the beast/girl chained in the corner. “Your werewolf girlfriend needed another pedicure. Suck it up or dump her.”

taratyler said...

Two good ole boys crouched by the swamp under the crescent moon. The ribbitting revelry was raucous.

“Do you think we’ll see it?” asked Abe.

“Definitely. It’s that time o’ the month. You know, hormones. And there’s too many toads. It’s a re-gu-lar smorguss-board!” answered Jeb.

“Curse it all! I forgot my bi-noc-u-lars!”

“Shh! It’s comin!”

Out of a misty cloud came the soaring harpy. Diving fast, claws outstretched, aiming for a big, fat, juicy toad.

Snatch!

All that was left was a splat of blood.

“Whooeee! That was amazin! What’s it called agin?”

“A Krokolian Rage.”

“More like Croak-olee-an.”

Kulsuma said...

The glow of the white moon was waning as the wolf’s dark grey fur receded into the depths of his skin and he began to transform into a weak man once more.

Those long, sharp claws scraped down his pale, porcelain skin, leaving behind tremendous gashes that leaked rivulets of scarlet blood. How many more times would he have to go through this before he died, he asked himself.

He let out a curse in a fit of what he thought was his Krokolian rage but was actually only his half wolf-half human hormones acting up.

Draven Ames said...

"You got a problem, young-blood?" he snarled. Spittle hung in sea-foam arches.
"Only with your claws bein' in my face," the boy challenged back.
"They wouldn't be in your face, if you'd keep your hormones in check, stupid boy."
"What can I say?" the boy lifted his chin with disdain, breathing in deeply. "It's a curse."
"So's the moon. Don't mean I'll kill your family when its full." The bestial man eyed him narrowly, sniffing in soft bursts. "Just like you won't hit on my girl, when your stupid."

Kulsuma said...

“Hey dad, can you tell me some words associated with werewolves?”

“What’s this for son?”

“Well, you know how I like to make lists.”

“Oh! I should’ve known. I was a stamp collector myself at your age.”

“...”

“Okay, what have you got so far?”

“I’ve got blood, moon, claws, curse...That’s it.”

“You’ve forgotten hormones.”

“Um, what?”

“It’s hormones that make them change from man to wolf you know. The moon only makes it all worse is all. Oh yeah and that’s where there Krokolian Rage comes into play.”

“Um, what?”

“...”

Son fidgets. “Dad, thanks, you’ve really helped.”

Marianna said...

He had told me we would go to the MOON together. On my knees, clutching his hand. I tried so hard to remember what he said. He told me maybe it was the HORMONES talking, but he wished he could take me past the Earth’s atmosphere. Somewhere where we didn’t have to feel the weight of our problems. Because here we felt their CLAWS, as they burrowed in our flesh and became part of our BLOOD.

I looked down at your face. Those eyes, no longer yours, stared up at me. Hope didn’t rest on your lips, just a CURSE.

ShelleyB said...

“I just bludgeoned Dad with his axe,” Lenny Krokolian confessed. His hands covered in blood and pressed against his cheeks. They slide down his face leaving two bloody shaped claws behind.

He watched as horror grew over Davey’s face. “Where is he?” Davey squeaked out.

“Over there,” Lenny pointed to wooded area illuminated by the moon.

Shock started to wear off and tears spilled over his bloody cheeks. “He was raping Tammy. Hormone laden freak.”

“Your girl.”

Lenny sat overwhelmed with the dreaded knowledge that he inherited the curse of the Kroklian rage gene, he’d heard so much about.

BPatterson said...

It’s a full moon. The paramedics are exhausted by a night full of losses. The whore moans on the gurney. Her acrylic claws are broken, the blood from the wounds inflicted on her attacker staining the flesh underneath. A delusional Twilight-fan stabbed her with a wooden stake because of her body glitter and red hair. She screamed, “I did it for Edward!” when they arrested her. Juvenile assailant. The surgeries are full. She dies in the hallway, waiting.
“Twilight kills.”
“Krokolian Rage.”
They are punch-drunk, tired and ravaged, denied time to reflect and recuperate.
The radio chirps. They both curse.

eden tyler said...

I can't stop writing and revising lately. I need a new hobby :P
This time, it's at 100 words exactly.

* * *


A full moon is my favorite. Usually at the end of the month – there’s a vibe in the air.
I have a routine for that circle on the calendar (the same time as another circle—blood red for my doctor).
So it could be hormones, but it could be the tides.
I go out and dig in my garden. It’s a curse—plants die in my house. But outside, they grow phenomenally. I don’t bother with gloves. Just dig my claws into the dirt and enjoy nature.
A different plant for each month. Something to celebrate a new beginning.

Jane Forbes said...

“What’s wrong, Kate?” Tom asks.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I say, hunched up and fuming.

“Try me.”

You asked for it.

“I feel like I have this monthly curse. My hormones go wild. I go into Krokolian-scale rages. My claws come out and I want to rip people to shreds – especially when they ask stupid questions. Not to mention the blood…”

His eyes are liquid with sympathy. “I totally get it,” he nods.

“You do?”

Why isn’t he running?

“You’re a werewolf, right? You know, changing with the full moon and all that stuff. That’s cool!”

I blink. “Something like that...”

Naomi said...

Didn't expect to actually enter but it was quite a fun excerise while putting off other stuff :)
***


"It's a curse," he explained. "There's, teeth, claws, fur, a tail, the lot."

"But only during a full moon?"

"Well...yeah."

Sandy laughed.

"You want to talk curses? Try having my hormones. You know what happened when I wanted yoghurt today and there was none?"

The man shook his head, wringing his blood stained top. He started to wish he’d bitten her throat out when they met.

"Krokolian Rage," she said, gesturing to the upside-down fridge. "Sign me up for your curse, if you can get rid of mine."

The thousand year old werewolf was in over his head.

Bettelynn said...

Oh, man, I can't believe I missed this!

Bettelynn said...

Yikes, today is Wednesday. What a dope I am. Here is my entry.

My supplier, Sylvia, melted into the cold cement wall of our school. Except for her nails purposely filed to look like dragon claws -long and sharp-she could have been anyone’s sister.
“A little something new to make your hormones hum,” she said, discreetly shoving a small vile of thick blood into my locker. “Just in. It’s called Krokolian Rage. Guaranteed to make you sing to the moon.”
I smelled her curse of brotherly love. “Family first?”
“Always, mon frère, always,” she said, blowing me a kiss and drifting into the crowded hallway.

Leigh said...

Her silent sobs were punctuated by unearthly moans and raking claws from the other side of the door. It had been three days since the Sisters had brought the creature here; she would have to face it if she were to escape this curse. Hand poised on the knob, heartbeat crashing absurdly, whatever it was couldn’t be worse than ignorance. Chancing a peek through the crack, the moon’s blood red glow carved haphazard squares of eerie light out of shadows, she gasped.
Her hormones raced, it was not a creature at all, it was a boy. A beautiful boy.

Bettelynn said...

Entry No. 2

No one could stop Val Krokolian when she tasted blood. Not the absence of a full moon, nor a witch of a grandmother’s try at some lame reassurance. “I know it’s a curse, dear. The Krokolian Rage will be gone by morning, you’ll see.”
Val ignored her grandmother and lifted her wings for takeoff. Her claws, heavy as metal spikes, scraped the ground sending stinging sparks into the air. All Val could think of at that moment was hunting the one who rode the Black Sea Dragon, Gustave Dorr.
With hormones exploding, Val sniffed the air. Her Harpy instincts would lead her where she needed to go. Northeast.

Christina Auret said...

Andile almost cursed when the bell sounded in a last minute shopper. She did curse when she swung in from the back room to find the shopper collapsed, covered in moon marks, seeping blood onto the tiles.

She grabbed a hormone syringe and was about to plunge the needle into him when he gasped: “Gloves”

So she snapped on protection. No one knew she no longer needed it.

“I’ll get the next dose; your hands are still claws.”

The man looked up.

“They don’t change back anymore.”

“That’s $5.99 then,” Andile said, looking away from eyes that mirrored her despair.

Luci Weston said...

Milly sat on the warped bench outside the post office squeezing the letter. It was stamped with a smudged, blood red postmark from "Krokolian Rage." Her adrenaline hormones pumped through her body when she recognized Drake's handwriting. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or curse. It had been six months since he was down on one knee proposing during his allotted Skype session, courtesy of the USMC. She only shouted, "Yes!” when her moon screensaver replaced Drake’s smile. Now her lost lover sends a postage due letter from who-knows-where. Slowly, she slivered open the envelope with cat-like claws.

Melissa Peagler said...

I'm not sure if it was the moon shining in through the window that seemed to soften his look or if it was my teenage hormones running away from me. No matter the reason, to me his claws seemed less dangerous and more sexy. The blood on his cheek only drew me closer into his lips. I could feel the energy between us as he leaned into my ear.
He whispered, "Do you want to go to the Krokolian Rage? It's a new dance club near Suzie's house."

Just hearing her name sent shivers of anger down my spine. Curse that Suzie and her perfect hair.

Teresa Burgher said...

Truella stared hard at the stiff bristled brooms staked in a rigid row along the bare wood paneled wall. Those vehicles from a former life had transported her through the womb of night, flush with hormones, red claws raking the inky sky, her stark black shadow etched against the bulging moon.

“You bastards,” she wailed in a Krokolian rage, “young women call to you with their blood and you rise and serve their power. Now you do nothing for an old woman who aches to feel you throb between her legs once again.”

ShelleyB said...

Virgin Larry stared at the long line of girls he got to choose from. He decided his 16th birthday money should be put to good use. His nose ran and his palms sweated. He stopped at the girl with big boobs and blood red lipstick. She smelled naughty. “Nice perfume?”

“Kloklian’s Rage,” she purred.

He grabbed her hand and they headed to the back. His hormones surged while she stripped bending over showing her full white moon. She attacked. Her claws sunk into his thighs. He let out a curse. That was all he needed. Over in minutes.

Teresa Burgher said...

Curses, I posted the wrong version....

Truella stared hard at the stiff bristled brooms staked in a rigid row along the bare wood paneled wall. Those vehicles from a former life had transported her through the womb of night, flush with hormones, red claws raking the inky sky, her stark black shadow etched against the bulging moon.
“You bastards, I curse you,” she wailed in a Krokolian rage, “young women call to you with their blood and you rise and serve their power. Now you do nothing for an old woman who aches to feel you throb between her legs once again.”

Penelope Wright said...

“Ugh.” Olivia clutched her stomach and bent in half. “I drank so much blood I gave myself a case of Krokilian Rage. Stupid new moon.”
“What’s that have to do with it? Is it like a monthly curse?”
She looked at me sideways. Clearly she’d lost her sense of humor when she’d lost her soul. Or maybe she’d never had one.
I stared at my claws, buffed them on my jacket, and backpedaled. “I’m new.”
“Oh.” She ground her teeth and grabbed her stomach again. “No. It has nothing to do with hormones. I wish it did.”

Liz Hollar said...

Karyn stood waiting in the theater wings. Her cue was coming, and she spread fake blood across her hands. Why had she auditioned for the Scottish Play? For a nervous, superstitious person, Macbeth was a horrible choice.

Karyn's breath quickened, her hormones revving up before she stepped into the lights. The cursed corset wasn't helping. Moon light splashed across the theater. Focusing on the scene she walked across the stage, when a high-pitched scream clawed through the air. She staggered back. With a crash, a line of lights fell at her feet. Their ropes had been cleanly and purposely severed.

Liz Hollar said...

“I'm so glad you joined the Krokolian Rage Gamer Fetivaal!” crooned Pete, pumping his fist.

Tracy sighed. “My brother made me.”

“Cool brother. So what's your curse?” Pete pointed from his beer bottle.

Tracy stared at the moon. Another hormonal nitwit.

“Mine's claws. Yow! Yow!” Pete curled his fingers, slashing at the some imaginary nemesis.

“Mine's blood diseases.”

“Oooooooo,” mouthed Pete. “That's sweet.” Pete took a long swig.

Tracy couldn't take it. She glared.

Pete's face crumpled in pain. Boils appeared on his face.

“I told you,” she stepped past. “Blood...Dis...eas...es”

Bradley Johnson said...

Finn inhaled the girl’s scent, a mix of fear and confusion permeating the clammy air. He disliked protecting humans, but the Moon Child’s call always made his skin itch and hormones rise. He welcomed the relief when his body stopped shifting.
Finn grazed his fingers, now claws, along the wet pavement.
The child’s head turned. “Kitty?”
He ignored her and padded across the puddle-riddled street. His eyes focused on the demon-spawn sent by the curse decreed after Krokolian’s Rage. Finn pounced at the imp’s first twitch.
Blood dripped from the creature’s head as it scrambled down a sewer drain.

Bradley Johnson said...

Zaripp!
Hisselnut scratched one of his two noggins. “Oh dear, was that the hormone’s arm?”
“Human, you idiot,” Jant said. He looked from the monitor to the woman on the gurney.
Hisselnut tapped a claw on her face. “She’s still alive at least. I don’t like probings, too much blood from these hubcaps.”
Jant sighed. His curse was always to have imbecile apprentices. Why the Academy couldn’t supply him competent technicians was beyond logic. Maybe he could leave Hisselnut on the moon to rot and say he was discombobulated.
“Well,” Hisselnut said, “She has another arm, she can make do.”

ShelleyB said...

A lone soldier stood in the middle of the battlefield searching for anyone that could still be alive. His uniform tattered and blood stained. The day was fought hard. Many young lives were lost. Yesterday, their hormones raged but today he watched as his brethren collapsed by gunfire. Theirs claws dug at the earth to escape their inevitable fate. They screamed at their enemies as they died on the field. The soldier’s curse was theirs to bare. It was night now. No screams or gunfire echoed. All was quiet except a lone soldier using the moon to search. For anyone.

Lela Gwenn said...

Janey cursed at the universe, her rushing hormones sending her into a Krokolian Rage.

Like it wasn’t bad enough to be 16 and a werewolf? Her Were-blood made her claws come out with the full moon, but it was her bodies insistence on her period being perfectly synched up with the said moon that made her dangerous.

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Five Random Things About Suzie

1. I drink so much orange soda, it's probably running through my veins. I've been known to go through a twelve pack of diet sunkist in a day.

2. I'm legitimately nocturnal (or a vampire). I will be so exhausted at two pm that I'm falling asleep standing up - it has happened before, at Six Flags no less - but as soon as the sun goes down I'm wide awake.

3. I have a gorgeous unused $6000 Reem Acra wedding dress hanging in my closet, and it showed up on my doorstep the same day my (now ex) fiance broke up with me. And thank God for that. I wouldn't have wanted to waste that dress on him.

4. Social anxiety plagues me daily. I write a script and practice in front of the mirror when I have to make a phone call, but most people who interact with me have no idea how nervous I am (or perhaps they lie) because I've worked so hard to try to overcome it.

5. I'm actually worried that I will never love my children (when I do have them in the far off future) as much as I love my dogs. I just like animals better than people - they're sweet and innocent and soft and furry - is that so wrong?