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LAC 11 Chapter 3

Because one of you wrote to Roz: It has been a really l-o-o-o-ong wait, though, you know, and another stolen chapter geting posted wouldn’t really be a catastrophe, would it?

High-five from the DWD! 😀

So let’s find out if my thievery leads to catastrophe or not. I’m thinking not, but you never frickin’ know. If you don’t hear from me again, get Laura on it.

 

Chapter 3

The Red Queen had barely left the building when scouts of the boyish persuasion infiltrated the place. Doubting there was a merit badge for identifying eight Dykes Who Dare in their unnatural habitat, we bailed and took up unruly residence outside.

With a pointing finger, Susan suggested, “How about we go to the little park across the street and figure this out?”

“We can’t,” I said. “If we have to move as a pawn, we can only go forward.”

“This is going to be a long weekend.”

“Remind me again why we let them do this to us.”

Impatiently flicking her wrist, Laura said, “There are benches on the side of the building. Let’s go there.”

Just then, a bus pulled away from the curb, and through a cloud of stinky exhaust, we followed Laura. As soon as we rounded the building and saw the benches, we hightailed it. We claimed two that faced each other, a mud-puddled sidewalk between. We all put forearms to thighs and leaned in to consult.

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LAC 11 Chapter 2

Ha! Roz looked away, and I nabbed Chapter 2. May posting this one serve as dynamite up the literary buttock. Although, she did finally write the line that opened the door to the next leg of our journey. We are on the move once again.

 

Chapter 2

Fifteen minutes later, we slid into the huge corner booth at Stacked. The word “coffee” resounded seven times, and Earl’s name tagged along for the ride to the waitress’ order pad. Claudia’s hand came to rest on my thigh, and I placed my own over hers. At least for the moment, life proved good.

We studied the menu, mindful to stay on gift-certificate budget, in case the game came down to that ten bucks I had been foolish enough to dwindle.

Soon, the waitress returned with several carafes. The word “pancakes” resounded seven times, and “tofu scramble” hitchhiked without incident.

Coffee was poured, and we drifted into an agreeable silence. Collectively, we seemed to insist the occasion was ordinary, that we were not in the clutches of riddling professors—clutches so tight they could have strangled our reality, if we let them. Yet, all the while, everyone’s eyes flitted among the many patrons in that restaurant, no doubt looking for the pawn we were certain was there to give us a clue. With my back to the room, I did my spying via the massive mirror on the wall, and not a damn thing caught my attention.

When the food arrived, we intently ate, again appearing as though we hadn’t a care in the world. Once sated, we quickly stacked our dishes and slid them to the outside of the table, and a perceptive busboy appeared and took them away. Seconds later, the waitress showed up with more coffee. She placed the bill tray on the table, which Laura, holder of the almighty gift certificate, immediately pulled in her own direction.

Daring to hurl us back to Ginny and Kris’ world, Janice asked, “Anybody have any idea what we’re up against?”

“Chess.”

Through the Looking-Glass.”

“Both.”

“First, I think we have to figure out how to make the map into a chessboard,” Maggie said and tossed the thing in my direction.

I agreed and spread out the map on the table. “Does anybody have a pencil?”

A few affirmed possession and seized purses, but Janice loudly said, “You might do best to use mine. My instructions said to bring a notebook and a pencil. No flippin’ clue why, but here it is.”

A toss and a roll brought me the pencil. A stretch and a tilt brought seven surveyors with a keen interest in a hometown that suddenly felt foreign.

“Grant Avenue and Lancaster Street,” I said with an eventual stab. “We’re here.” I drew an X on the spot. “This is e1.”

“So are the chessboard squares buildings or blocks or what?”

Laura quickly rattled off the other businesses on the block, six in all, and it seemed obvious we weren’t talking buildings.

“Shit, it is blocks.”

“City blocks.”

“Eight city blocks by eight city blocks.”

“Sixty-four blocks? You’ve got to be kidding!”

“We can’t walk sixty-four blocks! We’ll die.”

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LAC 11 Chapter 1

Okay, I’ve been flirting with kleptomania again, but at the rate Roz is going, I didn’t see much choice. May posting it is serve as a firecracker up the literary buttocks.

 

Chapter 1

“Just get out!”

“Seriously?”

“You’re just going to dump us here?”

“Get out before the light turns green!” From the passenger seat, she thrust a white bag at Susan and directed, “Give this bag to Dolores.”

“Dolores who?”

“Dolores! Now get out! The light’s going to turn!”

Stupefied, we did as instructed. Although it would have been simple not to do so, defying Ginny ranked right up there with playing in traffic. If you valued life, there were some things you just didn’t do.

The window lowered, and her head craned out. “It’s supposed to be a beautiful day. Enjoy it! But for Pete’s sake, behave yourselves!”

And the blue van sped off. It didn’t appear to be shaking with laughter, but still, I figured it was.

It was barely nine-thirty on a Saturday morning, a Lesbian Adventure Club day, and there we were: dumped at a stoplight under a highway overpass on the city’s outskirts.

We gaped down the street until the van disappeared from sight.

Laura queried, “Did you ever notice how they always get rid of us?”

As custom dictated, we exchanged inquisitively pissy glances.

“Yeah, last time they had us running all over town.”

“Backwards!”

“Yeah, and the time before that, they had us running all over the county.”

“You’re right, babe.”

“They don’t like us very much, do they?”

All eyes, all hanging jaws aimed again down the van-less street.

“All right, so what do we do?”

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Contraband 4: LAC 10 Chapter 4

Funny how the author writes mysteries but isn’t alert enough to see me swipe the chapters she completes. You’d think she’d pay attention a bit better. Lucky for you guys, that is not the case. Below is Chapter 4 from the still unfinished, still untitled Lesbian Adventure Club: Book 10.

Chapter 4

I lowered the paper to my side and fully expected laughter or maybe some comedic concern for the detained delinquent duo. But, this was a mystery, and that meant I had no frickin’ clue what was up and what was down.

A moment of stuporous silence passed before the room shook.

"Out on bail? Out on bail?" Gertie shrieked. "What the hell did you do, Kris?"

"I didn’t do anything," she loudly defended. Her face sported a red-hot hue.

The detective apparently detected a ding in the defense. "All right, what did Dr. Amah Fraud do?"

"Um…" Red turned crimson. "Experiments," she admitted with shame that did not at all seem feigned.

Shovel dug deeper, "What kind of experiments?"

Amah hemmed and hawed before admitting, "Experiments … um … on children … testing the effects of stress on children." Nervously, she shifted her legs and rubbed her forehead. "I really don’t like this game."

In perfect synch, hands darted to cover mouths and keep the laughter from escaping.

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Contraband 3: LAC 10 Chapter 3

I am not the most inconspicuous of thieves. I barely escaped with my life this time. And trust me, a few backspaces by the author and I do indeed cease to exist.

You all owe me BIG for nabbing the Chapter 3 of the still unfinished, still untitled Lesbian Adventure Club: Book 10!

If you need a recap or aren’t up to speed yet, Chapter 1 is here, Chapter 2 is here, and Chapter 3 is below.

 

Chapter 3

As Clyde uncorked the cognac, my eyes did a circuit of the room for the thirtieth time. Convinced I had overlooked neither the obvious nor the obscure, I conceded that Alberta had wordlessly taken leave. Maybe she needed the bathroom. Maybe she went screaming down the street in pursuit of Earl. Maybe she had a severe aversion to cognac. Maybe I had no clue where she had gone. The best I could do was trust they hadn’t turned her into a corpse; I would not have liked that, fiction or not. Kidnapping crossed my mind, and I promptly decided I didn’t want to entertain that idea either. I resolved to give her five minutes before my busybody self embarked on a mission of making sure nothing was wrong.

Soon, Clyde got to me, and I outstretched our glasses. "Easy on this one, Clyde," I said, wobbling the goblet in my left hand.

Knowingly, he nodded. "Best to stay sober in this situation," he recommended with a smile that upturned but one side of his mouth.

As he leaned closer to pour, I quietly inquired, "Do you know what’s going on, Denny?"

He shook his head. "They wouldn’t trust us. They said telling Noelle was the same as telling Holly, and telling Holly… Well, you get the idea." He finished pouring and added, "Good luck, Kate." Then he moved on to Joan, and the two of them started chatting up a sibling storm.

I eased back into my spot on the couch and took a sip of the amber beverage, far from amused when my throat burned closed and threatened to refuse entry. Finally, I successfully swallowed.

Nearly watering, my eyes scanned again, and this time, I saw Alberta. With an incredibly cocky smile, she sauntered through the room, took a seat next to me, and proceeded to bob a tea bag in the cup she held.

Curious as hell, I took a whiff. "Earl!" I gasped. When she smugly nodded, I asked, "Where the hell did you find him?"

"I didn’t find him," she quietly replied. "I found my connections." She snickered and tilted close enough to whisper, "I have enough tea bags stashed in my bra for the entire weekend."

"In your bra?" I whisper-shrieked. "You let Earl in your bra?"

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Contraband 2: LAC 10 Chapter 2

Finally, I got a hold of Lesbian Adventure Club: Book 10’s second chapter. It has been very slow going. Apparently, the author has a life and responsibilities aside from us. Can you believe it?

If you haven’t read Chapter 1, please do so first, right here. People who read things out of order simply drive the author nuts.

 

Chapter 2

Filled with apprehension, we stood in the study and watched Girl Friday take a leisurely stroll to a cabinet between two built-in bookshelves. She put her hand in her pocket to retrieve what ended up being a key. Then, she unlocked the cabinet door. A few seconds later, she turned around, holding … holding … Bimbo Babe! Damn, I was happy to see her, as Claudia and I had been forced to relinquish her a few days prior. Little did I know she’d be a kept woman, under lock and key in a frickin’ wall.

Girl Friday set her on the desk, and as she jiggled, it became obvious that Bimbo Babe was not quite herself.

"We dressed her up for the occasion," she declared. "She looks pretty damn good, huh?"

We all leaned in, and I admit: I feared another lopsided spectacle. Instead, I noted that she simply wore a gaudy diamond necklace, just as Alison did. Between jiggles, it madly glinted. Livable, I thought, at least until the hoopla began.

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Contraband: First Chapter of LAC 10

Ha! Now that I’ve learned the layout of the author’s office a bit better, it did not take much effort to swipe the first chapter of the as-yet-unnamed, nowhere-near-complete Lesbian Adventure Club Book 10. Jesus, you guys are enjoying August while we’re still freezing our butts off in February. The author needs to write faster, huh?

Chapter 1

Etiquette: I think I skipped that class. Do I tip the guy or not? It wasn’t as though he served coffee or anything. No, he just stared at me in the rearview mirror. Screw the tip.

I shoved the fare at him, offered my thanks, and slipped out the taxicab’s door and into the dark, cold February evening. It all felt odd, very, very odd.

I zipped up the front walkway and put the doorknocker to good use. I always had a fondness for knockers. Well, two I could fondly recall anyway. Jesus, shut up, Kate! Well, I was nervous: I rationalized. Desperate to calm myself and stay warm, I bounced on the balls of my feet.
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Arr! I’m a Plunderer

Seems I was able to abscond with Chapter 2 of the as-yet-unfinished Lesbian Adventure Club Book 9! You are amazed, I know. I would be amazed, too, if I wasn’t so impatient for the author to: Get the damn thing done!

If you didn’t read Chapter 1, please do so here. Otherwise, what follows will make even less sense than our LAC meetings sometimes do all on their own.

 

Chapter 2

The screw ducked into the kitchen again, this time returning with a huge sheet of paper. "It’s really quite simple," she said, and I figured I was not the only one to doubt that. She tacked the sheet to the wall and explained, "Bottom line is that if Holly would do it, it’s probably acceptable."

"Probably? That’s not very specific for a law, Detective McCallister."

"What the hell is this anyway? Is Holly princess for a day?"

"Every day," Laura said, and she and Holly started laughing and swiftly moved onto kissy-face activities.

"Hell, if Holly would kissy-face, it’s probably acceptable for us to do it, huh?"

"I say we go for it!"

"Yeah!"

Partner seized partner, and overdramatic smacks and mmm’s filled the room. Then, laughter erupted. And just when I thought maybe the weekend would not be so bad, an ear-piercing, head-exploding whistle sounded. We looked to the screw standing there, a referee’s whistle on a white cord being whipped in a circle with her index finger.

"Did anybody read the laws?" she haughtily inquired. "I suggest you read number six."

All eyes darted to the dreaded list.

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Did I just accidentally steal that?

There I was, hanging out at the author’s desk, waiting, waiting, waiting. Bored, I started snooping. Curdling lattes. Reading glasses. Bottle caps. My biography. Antacids. (No connection to the biography, I’m sure.) Oh, what’s this? First-draft first chapter of Lesbian Adventure Club Book 9! Holy shit, the mother lode! … Hmm, tentatively titled Spiders. That’ll do. That’ll do. It had to be an S-word, and a mighty fine one it is.

It’s not really stealing if it has your name on it, is it? Nah!

 

Chapter 1

What the hell?

"Oh, for Christ’s sake!"

"Holy shit! Holy frickin’ shit!"

Claudia shoved the car into park, and we just stared at it.

It was a Lesbian Adventure Club weekend. Those were generally good things, splendid things, but when our hostesses were none other than Holly and Laura, apprehension tended to overwhelm the usual excitement. Sitting in front of their house on a subzero January morning, I realized not one iota of that apprehension had been wasted. Oh, hell no.

With my jaw hanging, I looked to Claudia and found her in the same state of shock. My head turned back to the front of their house just to see it once more. I figured that maybe if I blinked it would not be there upon the eyelid grand opening. Three times, I tried. Three times, I failed.

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LAC Book 9

Okay, my whisper-screams in the author ear have proven successful. Go me! Roz has a chunk of the ninth book done, but I don’t think we’ll see it that soon. Laura has been bitching to get her third mystery done, and I think she may have Roz handcuffed to her keyboard. When she finishes, I’ll see if maybe Laura will loan me the handcuffs. 😉

In the meantime… Note that Holly and Laura are up as hostesses in LAC 9. The idea of that will most certainly give you nightmares. Remember their horror in Leakers Ignited when they learned that no one—save them, Mrs. & Mrs. PDA—kept their pants on during their last weekend, Loose Sleuths? Uh oh! 😮

Will the artist and the detective use their weekend to exact revenge yet again?

Will the LAC keep their pants on this time? (I vote “no,” but I’m a big talker.)

Will the eight of them survive?

Could this be the veritable end of the DWD? (Nah, I’m just being mellow-dramatic.)

Stay tuned…

 

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