Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

to say something along the lines of 'it went all the way to your sweet spot', but the lovesick, sap in me smiled. "Me, too," I said around his hand. "Let's eat, I'm starving."
    "Couldn't have said it better myself."
    We did have pizza, eventually. It had to cool and we'd just warmed up. I don't like to say I'm glad my ex took my dog, but I'm glad the vet found us both. It's been ten years with Alec and we're still going strong. And yes, we did make love in the bed of my Chevy. More than once.
     
    THE END
    Author bio: When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind.
    When she's not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school. She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.
    Currently hanging out every Wednesday and Friday at the Menagerie Authors site , hunting Hotties for the Saturday posts, and working on the next great story brewing in her head!
    The cabana boys are willing to serve, unless she needs them. She always needs them. So be nice to Javier or he will bite--on command.
    She also masquerades under the name Wendi Zwaduk and is published through Changeling Press, Liquid Silver Books, and Total-E-Bound Publishing.
    Find her at the following links:
    Website
    Blog
    Goodreads
    Facebook
    Twitter
     
    ****

BEGINNINGS: LIBERATION
    by: Alessandra Ebulu

    My mother looked at my eyes in the mirror– one last time in a lifetime of never meeting my gaze, never letting me look directly at her face. The snakes of her hair hung limply, unmoving. She had removed her veil for this last visit, but lay turned away.
    "You're not a Gorgon, my boy. Not even half. But when I die– beware. Power doesn't disappear, it changes and moves. Be careful."
    Five years ago, and I thought by now I was safe. I thought it had passed me by. Until today when the two men I care for invited me home for the night. Until I kissed them and warm flesh turned to stone under my lips. What have I done? What am I? And how the hell can I fix this?
    ~ Kaje

    genre: fantasy
    tags: Greek mythology; ménage; family drama; slight angst; blacksmith; soldiers
    words: 9,253
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    BEGINNINGS:LIBERATION
    by Alessandra Ebulu
     
    Cursed shall you be forever. Your gaze shall turn to stone all who look upon you. The hair and face that you delight in shall become terrible to look upon. Your blood shall be sought by all for it shall have the power to heal and to kill. This shall be your fate and the fate of your descendants for all eternity.
    ****
    His footsteps echoed, disturbing the stillness that had descended upon his surroundings. No one was in the halls; no sounds could be heard as he moved down the hallway. The area was dark, the only things guiding his steps, memories of previous visits to this place that terrified him. Dark, forbidding, the house suited his mother perfectly— Medusa of the horrifying gaze. Medusa, the feared and most hated. Medusa had once been beautiful and wanted by all but now stood as proof that people's emotions were fickle and ever changing.
    He scraped his big toe against stone and stopped. Raised hands found the wall, and Eleftherios slowly felt his way along. His hands touched wood, and he pushed the door inwards, moving into the room.
    His eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, searching for the reptilian skin and listening for the hiss that would tell him where his mother was. She who had once delighted in light, laughter and the company of others remained forever hidden in the ruins of the temple she now called home.
    "Welcome, Eleftherios. Proceed. Your mother awaits." He paused and turned. Atropos approached him, her much dreaded shears absent from her hands. Her eyes dark, filled with the heaviness he knew was always present when she was ready to bring life to an end. The way she continued to gaze at him— unblinking, unflinching, with cool detachment— filled him with misgivings.
    Eleftherios nodded and moved forward, pulling back the curtains that Medusa had used to create privacy in her rooms.
    "You sent for me, Mother."
    Low hisses filled the room. Something was wrong. The snakes on her head hung limp, unmoving. Her head was turned away from him. The veil she used to