Thirst Issue 1

Thirst

Passion and Obsession

July 2014

Big Pulp Publications

Bill Olver, editor and publisher

Bill Boslego, associate editor (editorial)

contact: thirst@bigpulp.com

Cover illustration by Caroline Parkinson

Thirst Vol. 1, No. 1

July 2014

ISSN 2373-6933 (print)

ISSN 2373-6941 (electronic)

Thirst is published annually in July by Big Pulp Publications. 
All credited material is copyright by the author(s). All other material © 2014 Big Pulp Publications.

The stories and poems in this magazine are fictitious and any resemblance between the characters in them and any persons living or dead—without satirical intent—is purely coincidental.

Reproduction or use of any written or pictorial content without the permission of the editors or authors is strictly forbidden, with the exception of fair use for review purposes.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of our writers.

From the Editor

Welcome and thank you for purchasing the debut issue of Thirst, the magazine of passion and obsession!

Thirst is where romance meets fantasy…and science fiction and mystery and horror. It’s the love-child of Big Pulp, an all-genre magazine that debuted online in 2008, and in print in 2010. This new publication represents another step towards fulfilling our long-term goal of creating a whole line of magazines featuring the best in fantastic fiction from around the world.

In Thirst, you won’t find the typical romance fiction tropes—no heaving bosoms or torn bodices, no wilting wallflowers waiting for love to complete them. Instead, you’ll meet characters driven by purpose, a need they must fill, a thirst they’ll do anything to slake.

Thirst is about desire of all kinds—for love, sex, fame, money, power, acceptance, beauty, and connection.

Thirst is about passion, and obsession. It’s about hunger, jealousy, need.

It’s about doing what you must to get what you want. It’s about heartache. It’s about lying and cheating, deception and betrayal, sin and redemption.

And sometimes…yes, sometimes, it’s even about Love.

In this issue, you’ll meet a dancer who can have the love of any man except the one she desires, and another who must wait for her love to blossom.

You’ll meet two people trapped in the ruts of their existence and two women who covet the lives of others.

You’ll uncover a murder with a man who harbors a dark secret. You’ll meet a wizard willing to do anything to forget what he’s learned about love and a girl ready to unravel its mysteries.

Indulge your thirst.

Bill Olver

Editor

TABLE OF CONTENTS

FICTION

The Dance of Love by Gerri Leen

Cloning Clark by Wayne Scheer

Won’t Be Missed by Chris Longhurst

Suits and Flannel by Jennifer R. Povey

Inheritance by Gene Stewart

The Highly Unpredictable Ending by J.S. Watts

Crapesthetic by Mickey J. Corrigan

Caged by Nu Yang

When the Crocus Blooms by K.B. Sluss

POETRY

Photograph in the Santa Cruz Mountains by Charles Leggett

Years Like Wine by Bruce Golden

Why the Trans-Species Relationship Counselor Refunded Its Clients’ Funds by Terrie Leigh Relf

Obsession Over Love’s Geometry by Terrie Leigh Relf

From Confessions of a Zombie Lover by Terrie Leigh Relf

Haven’t You Sometimes, Wanted To by Lyn Lifshin

Later, She’d Remember by Lyn Lifshin

Gigolo Ballroom by Lyn Lifshin

The Chameleon by Lyn Lifshin

Tango by Lyn Lifshin

Tango Black by Lyn Lifshin

More Big Pulp publications

Gerri Leen lives in Northern Virginia and originally hails from Seattle. She has a collection of short stories, Life Without Crows (Hadley Rille Books) and stories and poems published or accepted in such places as: Escape Pod, Weird Tales, Spellbound, Sword and Sorceress XXIII, Spinetinglers, and She Nailed a Stake Through His Head: Tales of Biblical Terror. See more at http://www.gerrileen.com.

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THE DANCE OF LOVE

The men watch her dance, and she feels their glances, hot and frenzied in the flickering light of the stage. They want her, these men of the Klondike, but they are for the most part good men, men of some sort of honor. They will not press her; they will pay for her company, for a drink and conversation.

But nothing else. She is not, after all, a whore. She is their high priestess, one who is desired but never touched. Who dances with veils, legs scandalously exposed even though covered in tights. She is exotic, and the one time that a miner jumped on the stage and tried to touch her, he was taken outside and beaten by his brethren.

She dances on, and the crowd grows. A man stands at the back of the room, his gaze so intense she almost falters—and she never stumbles; she is known for her grace.

He has dark hair and hungry black eyes. And his clothes are not the layered homespun of the miners. He looks like a dandy, only he lacks the innocence of one. She senses pride in him, pride and desire.

He wants her. He has never met her, but he wants her. And she thinks it is not the simple desire of the miners. She thinks he wants her not for her company, but because everyone else wants her, too.

There is ambition in this one. Arrogance.

Passion.

She nearly stumbles again. Thankfully the dance is over a few steps later, and she can exit the stage.

He strides backstage as if he owns the place. You were wonderful.

Were?

He does not smile at her banter. His gaze smolders, and she wonders if he will touch her, if he will try to take her where she stands. One cry and the miners would be in to save her, to preserve her innocence.

But she doesn’t need them, her earnest protectors. She grins at the man. You aren’t from around here. It’s a silly line; no one is from around here, everyone a stranger in this gold-crazy place, here to make a fortune—and often lose it.

I’m Greek. His voice is smooth, but his accent thick. He runs his hand through his thick hair and she finds herself imagining doing it for him.

You have a name? she asks.

I do. He smiles then, and his teeth are very white, and his breath is not sour like the miners’ breath often is. I know yours.

Everyone knows mine.

He takes her hand and leads her out the back door, down the street to a rival saloon. The miners in the place look at her as she comes in, their faces changing as they see the hold the man has on her arm, the way she is hurrying to keep up with him—not out of panic, but out of need.

They are disappointed, these worshipers of hers. Not in her, but for themselves. That it is not one of them who has been chosen to be her first.

His room is no nicer than any other. His bed squeaks as he sits on it and begins to shrug off his jacket.

What do you think is going to happen? she asks, a teasing tone creeping into her voice.

I think you are going to love me.

Just like that? No dancing? No dinner? No drinks?

He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and hands it to her. Drink this. He doesn’t have a glass in the room, so she takes a long pull from the bottle.

He looks surprised when she doesn’t grimace, doesn’t sputter and choke. She is a virgin, but she is not innocent.

And soon she will not be a virgin. She begins to dance for him, stopping in front of him to sway so he can undo the buttons running down the back of her dress, and then shedding it as if it is a snakeskin.

You desire me, she says, because other men want me.

I want you because you are the most beautiful thing here.

She should be distressed that this is not about her, about the girl she really is deep inside. But another part of her revels in the knowledge that she is the