The Sexy Scribblers have a brand new story for you.
Here’s the first two episodes.
By Chanta Rand
“Humans are greedy, manipulative creatures that crave chaos and glory. They are ungrateful, vile beings, incapable of goodness. They are conquerors by nature—ready to destroy every culture they come in contact with. Yet, we now find ourselves in the unfortunate position of relying on them to help perpetuate our species.”
Narissa waited patiently for Elnora, the leader of the Lemurian Council to finish her speech. Elnora glided back and forth, her milky eyes appraising the seven females summoned to the Council’s meeting room. She was frightening, not just because of her gills and rough scales. What was more alarming was Elnora’s position in the Council. She single-handedly made most of the decisions, which were readily agreed upon by the others. No one dared to oppose her.
Even when she was wrong.
As an older Hydronid, Elnora lacked the ability to morph into human form. That was probably why she judged man so harshly. From what Narissa had learned about humans, she didn’t entirely agree with Elnora. Hydronids, who would be considered mermaids by ancient humans, had a similar genetic makeup to human females. By despising humans, Elnora despised part of herself. It was this same type of inter-species hatred that had caused Lemurians to destroy themselves years ago.
“As despicable as these creatures are,” Elnora continued, “we share much of the same DNA. Thus, they are the most logical choice for breeding.” She hung her head. “I wish there were some other way, but we must lower our standards and mate with these pathetic animals to ensure our survival.
“Living miles beneath the sea, our underwater fortress has afforded us protection from enemies who cannot survive the depths and the darkness of our world. However,”—she turned, her long tail sweeping angrily behind her—“this sanctuary has also kept us isolated from other civilizations, with no one to help us through our bitter civil wars with the Octopi. We’ve been cut off from trade, resources, and all further growth.”
Several of the older council members nodded their agreement. They were all females who’d endured the loss of husbands, sons, and fathers in the last twenty years. Narissa’s father had been killed when she was a young child, so she felt the same pain as the others here.
“There have been no males in Lemuria for over two decades,” Elnora needlessly reminded them. “Our species cannot be left to die out. I simply will not allow it.” She studied the faces of the seven young women standing before her. “Each of you has been chosen to leave our world and mate with human males.”
Shocked reactions rippled through the room. Some of the women’s scales flattened against their bodies. Others streamed sulfurous, yellow bubbles from their gills—an obvious sign of distress.
Born to a Hydronid father and a half-human mother, Narissa was more human than any of the other women assembled. She’d always considered her ability to morph between shapes a curse, some sort of deformity she’d never wanted in the first place. Now, she realized she could easily navigate amongst humans. Still, the idea of breaking the water’s surface was terrifying. She might never come back!
The world above was rife with enemies and obstacles. Vicious octopi that could suck the life from her with their deadly tentacles. Toxins from man’s polluted water and oil slicks. Commercial fishing vessels with nets large enough to ensnare her.
“Through the merits of evolution, you have been given a wonderful gift,” Elnora said. “Your ability to morph into human form can help you infiltrate their world. It is only through this infiltration that you will be able to keep our species alive. “Find a human man to breed with. Any man! Drag him back here if you must. Our survival is in your hands.”
Narissa didn’t want to leave her watery haven, but to ensure the perpetuation of their species, she must mate with a human male. The only problem was, where would she find such a man?
By Anne Lange
Simon shoved his fists into the front pockets of his cargo shorts and strolled along the beach, gazing out over the endless blanket of blue. With every wave that broke the shoreline, his hair whipped around his head and a light, briny-scented spray of water coated him. His younger sister had joked he needed a haircut. His mother had told him a shave would make him not look so forlorn or scary.
With each step, he sunk heel first into the wet sand, cold and clammy against his bare feet. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in—God, he loved the water—and let it out.
And he hated it just as much.
He opened his eyes and glanced over to where his family and closest friends had gathered on the beach after their day of playing in the sand and a picnic dinner. One of his cousins had brought his guitar, and Simon could hear the faint strums as Dean goofed around with some lively tunes. Most of them had switched to sweats or sat wrapped in camping blankets now that the sun had set. Even with the bonfire they were preparing, the cooler air coming in off the water warranted warmer clothing.
Simon didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel much of anything these days.
He appreciated that his family thought this little excursion would help. Though it was more like ripping off a Band-Aid in his opinion. They believed after all this time, it would bring him closure. Allow him to move on and finally fix what appeared to be broken.
But how did one fix a broken heart?
There had been a time that a trip to the beach or an outing on his boat would have done the trick. But not anymore. The boat was long gone. The trips to the beach… Well, this was the first since that day. Hell, he didn’t even own a bathing suit anymore. And if Dean hadn’t dragged him here, he’d be at home in his darkened living room, staring at photo albums.
Everyone around that fire probably thought his meandering along the edge of the water was his way of saying good-bye to the past. He snorted. Fuck. If they only knew. The only thing on his mind had nothing to do with the future.
It should have been him.
Simon trudged along, putting more distance between him and the others. The sounds of laughter, music, and crackling fire faded away until he couldn’t hear them at all.
When he looked up, he’d reached the outcropping of rocks at the end of the beach. If he felt so inclined, he could clamor over those boulders and truly be on his own. Few people bothered because they were wet and slimy, smooth from years of abuse from the sea, making them treacherous to navigate. But he knew from experience that the trip was worth it. After a handful of slips and scrapes, it felt like being on a totally isolated island on the other side.
The perfect place to fall in love.
To make love.
Too many memories reared up and pain sliced through him. Simon began to turn back, not ready to face them right now. They’d come soon enough when he finally closed his eyes.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of something and paused. He stepped into cold water that swirled and frothed around his ankles and craned his neck to see as far around the rocks as he could. Bubbles rose from the other side of a particularly large boulder. As they popped, the scent of Sulphur hit his nose. What the hell?
Simon jerked and stumbled back. That was a female voice. There was only one way onto this beach, other than by boat of course. And his family had been the sole visitors today.
“Oh dear. Now what am I going to do?”
Simon stood there, speechless, while she grumbled and grunted somewhere out of his line of vision.
“How could I have been so stupid?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. He didn’t know how to respond to that voice at all. That soft, sweet, melodic voice.
“Elnora says go. We go. No questions. Just do as she bids. Again.”
Who was Elnora? And who belonged to that voice?
“Could have used a reminder to bring some shoes. And clothes.”
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Check back tomorrow for episodes 3 and 4.