Vince the Hunter

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Here’s Vince in the screensaver from the first book in my series I’m working on. He was in the desert collecting speed-cornet lizards, but the photographer for a science magazine told him that was too boring for pictures, so Vince grabbed one of his spears.

Yay Vince!

Here’s a bit of Diana:



Stuart tried to close the bedroom door, but Diana slid into the opening and he wasn’t willing to touch her, so he stepped back and glared.

“Please go away,” Stuart said.

“I want to compare stories. I’m not afraid of you,” Diana said.

“Yeah, obviously. I don’t want to compare stories. It was all made up, anyway,” Stuart said. He clearly wanted to escape the room, but Diana was standing in the doorway. “Please move,” Stuart said.

“I’ll just follow you wherever you go. You can’t get away from me,” Diana said.

Stuart snarled.

Diana studied him and reflected on what was most likely to make him talk. I’ll be the one to go away, she thought, and she ran to the bed, causing Stuart to shout and dart out of the way, grabbed a pillow and blanket, and climbed out of the open window.

Diana did not at all know what Stuart would do, but she was sure he hadn’t expected this. She made a cozy bed near the peak of the roof and settled down, staring up at the black ice above her.

“It’s not even night or anything,” Stuart said. He’d come partway up the roof without her noticing. Diana pretended not to hear him and closed her eyes. Stuart laughed, though it was his old, mean sound, and not at all the nice way the fake him had laughed.

Diana heard the crunch of limping steps, and Stuart sat down several feet away.

She didn’t say anything at all and pretended to be sound asleep. Stuart made a couple of half-hearted opening noises, as if he meant to speak, and then stood up again.

“Stay please,” Diana said.

“Liar, pretending to be all peaceful and asleep. You’re different than the fake you,” Stuart said.

Diana was surprised enough to sit up.

“What do you mean, the fake me?” she asked.

“You don’t remember the pregnant parts, apparently. I asked you how long you’d been here because I want to compare timelines,” Stuart said.

“That’s what I wanted to do before you stomped off,” Diana remarked.

Stuart walked away. Diana, who felt that they were approaching a satisfying conversation, smiled and studied the black ice. Half an hour later, Stuart came back.

“Stop needling at me,” Stuart said.

“No, it’s fun. I will never stop,” Diana said.

Stuart left again. Diana laughed, because she was getting tremendous satisfaction out of exacting revenge on the real Stuart, who apparently had a much better handle on his temper than he’d ever had in his life before.

Two and a half hours later, Stuart came back and sat down. Diana sensed a willingness to talk on his part and so remained very quiet.

Stuart sighed.

“Well, I’ll tell you most of it,” he said, sounding resigned.

You’re reading Victor Poole, and in my current novel, a pair of gangsters are trying to throw an impromptu bachelor party for Mr. Weston.