Attention all GA Members! Put your pen and paper down and put on those reading glasses, if you have them. It's time to do some reading, as the 2016 Summer Anthology is now live for your enjoyment! We had seven authors take up the challenge of the Wicked Games theme and there are eight new stories and poems for you to go through. Don't forget, if you like a story, leave the author a comment to show them your appreciation. Now, without further ado, here's what we have for you.

 

 

 

The crackling fire is a surprise. He can feel its warmth and smell the woody fragrance of smoke. This is the afterlife? Curious, he opens his eyes, when pain erupts inside him, burns his innards, and brings back the agony and despair he thought he had escaped. Hell!

 

He had known he was dying, so when the dark figure stepped out of the shadows, he wasn’t surprised. Black robes rustled as the Reaper stopped beside his cot, looked down at him, and finally took Adam’s wrist to suck what was left of his wretched life out of him. As he passed, words that had haunted him for so long echoed in his mind: ‘In the end, you have to do penance for your mother’s mating with the devil by burning beside her in the eternal fire.’

 

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“I cannot believe we got another Gay Boy!”

 

Imp rolled his eyes and retorted, “I can’t belief ya complain ‘bout it.”

 

“But he is the twelfth one in a row!” Angel’s voice matched the pout on the cute face.

 

“And?”

 

“Don’t you get annoyed by the similar assignments? Or being stuck with each other?”

 

Imp couldn’t help the small growl escaping as he conjured up more black pillows and sprawled on them in a deliberately bored manner. He was sick of Angel whining.

 

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"What sort of wicked game are you playing on me?” I murmured into my lover’s neck, kissing him just below his ear.

 

His cheek muscles flexed beneath my hand, lifting into a smile that never failed to send shivers coursing through my body.

 

“’Tis no game, my love.”

 

“You have enchanted me as sure as any warlock.”

 

He frowned and paused, leaving me feeling delightfully full, but aching for movement. “Don’t say such things, even in jest. If anyone heard—”

 

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Terry looked around frantically; his stringy black hair whipped around, stinging his left cheek. He’d looked in the barn and behind the hayshed. Before that, the twelve-year-old boy had searched along the creek in the pasture where they usually looked for tiny black minnows to use for fishing. The pond in the field across the road was the only place he hadn’t looked.

 

Why were they doing this to him—again?

 

Terry swallowed back the hot sting of his tears and the hard lump of resentment. This was just like last year. After the first couple of days, they would ditch him and go off without him. Last year he’d said something to his aunt. She put things right, but it wasn’t worth it. The other boys barely concealed their contempt of him.

 

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Prologue:
Tom could smell the distinctive odor of blood as he coughed. He had failed to defend his love for Tim and to reduce the pain; he had done the last thing he would do. He believed ‘A person has learned much who has learned how to die.’ So he had consumed the poison he’d bought for the rats in his dorm room.

 

 

Hey Tim,
I know you’ll want to kill me the moment you hear my name. I will spare you the trouble by opening the wound you have inflicted on my heart and draining every drop of life out of it. When one takes his last breath, he sees the life he has lived and starts to think clearly. I am at that stage right now.

 

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The conjurer Druella lit the final black candle and set it on the edge of the circle. She inspected the runes, scribed in white chalk, one final time before turning to the ancient tome in her hands. The leather-bound book held many dark secrets which had aided her quest for power over life and death, though lately a thorn had pierced her side and nearly driven her mad.

 

Several miles away lived a powerful witch, Priscilla the Wise. They had met in battle several times, and though Druella had youth and talent on her side, she remained no match for Priscilla’s experience. But she’d come across a beautiful summoning spell several days ago, as if fortune had finally smiled upon her. The wind had turned a page in the same tome she now held, and the moonlight struck the words in just the right way to reveal the name of a powerful demon she could summon for aid.

 

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