From "The Life and Times of Car Johnson" by Car Johnson

Car finds out he has a stalker and decides to name her Stalky and write a letter thanking her for scattering tiny Car figurines made out of candy wrappers on his front lawn:

To thank Stalky, I made a six foot tall statue of what I thought she looked like out of old yogurt containers and stuck it on my front lawn, along with a special note:

Stalky (may I call you that?),

I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re awesome and I’m glad you chose to stalk me. If you ever want to get together, I’m all for it, but I know that might be impossible… since you’re my stalker and all.

PS.

I made you this statue. You are a six foot tall female mime, right?

Forever stalked,

Car

Stalky replied to my letter by tying a giant stuffed Car dummy to the tree next to my house, dressed in some clothing that had gone missing from my drawers and wearing a necklace made out of photographs taken of me in various places around the city. She also left a small note embroidered on the dummy’s chest. Meet me at the abandoned amusement park on State Street – tonight at 8 pm. Tell no one.

Yippee! I was going to meet my stalker!

From "Faithful Deceptions" by Melissa Ohnoutka

Money dictates the rules of this game and the victim could be anybody— regardless of sex, age or race...

A wicked grin eased over Dustin’s face, his entire body frothy with victory.  Once again, success. This was one of those magic moments that made the multitude of tedious planning hours and hard work worthwhile. Moments that lured him back again and again. It had been a long time since he’d actually been the one to pull the trigger. After Rodney and Dwayne’s little screw up with the Senator’s daughter, he had no choice but to kill her himself and had been itching to do the delectable deed again ever since. He loved to smell the fear. To see the moment his victim realized he and he alone controlled their fate.

Dustin waited only long enough for Agent Bryce to lower his head in defeat. Then the second earth shattering explosion rang out beneath the blanket of rain soaked trees. It was done.

Now to plan his most horrifying, unimaginable affliction against another human being.

Patrick Roark, bodyguard his ass, would pay a hefty price for his treacherous betrayal.

And he knew jus the sweet little trick to use too.

From "Lodestone Book Three: The Crucible of Dawn" by Mark Whiteway

The "cavalry" comes over the hill!:

“Thank you, Miron,” Keris said. “But you have done your job. Now we must do ours. Please ensure that your people are well clear of the city centre.”

His eyes began to mist. “What of you, my Lady?”

“Me?”

“I trust the Chandara will bear you away from the keep before it falls.”

“The Chandara will not be joining us,” Keris said, flatly.

A bemused expression passed over his face. “Then what, may I ask, are those?”

The two women tracked his gaze, turned, and gasped. A huge flock of Chandara filled the sky above the city, wings silently beating the night air.

Ragged cheering broke out along the column of assorted wagons, carts, and drays, quickly doused by warning hushes.

“I don’t understand,” Shann said in wonder. “McCann failed to return before the flower bloomed. How—?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Keris cut her off. “None of that matters now.”

They came in like hope, like petals on the wind, dreaming summer.

From "The Gifted Ones" by Lisa Vaughn

There we were. My best friend, my idol, my mentor - with our lips pressed together! We stayed in that position for what seemed like forever,neither of us making a sound. Each carefully calculating the other's next move. I surprisingly didn't have the urge to move, get upset, or even put a stop to what was happening. Maybe this was the moment I had been waiting for, but didn't know it? It just felt right to me. Perhaps she was testing me? I certainly didn't want to fail. Instead of freaking out, I surprisingly kissed back, and she instinctively followed my signal. Our fate was being sealed, yet we had no clue of the monstrosity of this moment.

From "Discontents" by James Wallace Birch

I cannot explain to you how I felt. If you’ve ever wanted to be a part of something, then you understand. If you’ve ever felt let down by the world, then you understand. And if you’ve ever been to a party the night before a hurricane or blizzard was supposed to arrive, where you’ve celebrated the prospect of the monotonous cycle of our everyday society being disrupted if only for a day, then you understand, though you may not have realized it before now. If Fletcher Spivey wanted to change the world, I was his man.

From "Black & White" by Nicki Lynn Justice

Now, about that cat..."

　 　 　She sighed. "This is going to sound really silly."

　 　 　"No sillier than you just did."

　 　 　She ignored that comment. "It was a way of rating my relationships. If I liked the cat better than the guy, I'd dump the guy."

　 　 　"But you don't have a cat."

　 　 　"I have a good imagination."

　 　 　He nodded. "So how many imaginary cats did you get rid of?"

　 　 　"None," she replied.

　 　 　"Anyone ever ask you to get rid of the cat?" he quipped, to cover the curious feeling of pleasure her words evoked.

　 　 　"The last one would have. I got rid of him instead.

　 　 　"But you were going to get rid of the cat for me."

　 　 　She shrugged. "I was half in love, almost asleep, and had just been through the most incredible love-making experience of my life, so I may not have been thinking clearly."

　 　 　He preened. "I've been told that I'm pretty good."

　 　 　"Hah," she exclaimed. "They probably just felt sorry for you."

　 　 　He quirked an eyebrow at her, but didn't bother to reply. "I don't think anyone has ever said they were half in love with me," he said softly.

　 　 　"Don't count on it. It could go either way. The cat hasn't been dropped off at that nice home in the country yet."

From "Where Does the 500LB Alien Sleep?" a story in "Tips for Tailoring Spacetime Fabric -- Vol. 1" by Roger Bourke White Jr.

The great ape was advancing on me—slowly, carefully, ready to spring at any moment. I stood there, longknife in hand, ready to meet its ferocious charge with a single life-draining thrust. Behind me, the princess was clinging to my bare back, her arms wrapped about my thickly muscled chest. She was waiting for me to overcome this final obstacle. The monster looked fierce, but with her soft body pressed close to mine, I felt I had the strength of ten.

The ape closed. He was about to spring, when he slowly raised his great paw and said in a soft, feminine voice, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“What?”

I squinted at his massive paw. I couldn’t tell. Was this some sort of trick?

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he insisted.

His paw was fading. The princess was fading. I opened my eyes. There was a female human there holding a hand in front of my face. She said again, “How many fingers?”

I didn’t care. I felt miserable. I concentrated hard on it … God! I’m not sure I can count that high!

“Three,” I finally croaked.

“Good. You’re coming out in a satisfactory fashion.