Noob Necromancy on the Beach by Joel Spriggs

"It's no use," Jake said from the passenger seat, "there are no parking spots left." He looked over his blue-framed sunglasses at his twin sister Esmy.

"There's always one spot around here if you're willing to look," Esmy said to Jake. She didn't bother to return his glance, but peered around other cars through her own dark wire-rimmed sunglasses. She brushed her wavy long brown hair out of her face with one hand, while the other stayed on the wheel. "Why do I even bother to come with you every year?" She asked.

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Elvis by Alan Guffy

I’ve been in this room for close to an hour. It’s cold in here. They’ve taken my clothes and left me in a thin hospital gown on a folding metal chair. The only light comes from a fluorescent tube hanging from the ceiling. No windows. Hell, not even a door. But I can make out a thin seam in the concrete that I suspect will swing inward if they want it to. 

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What are all these "author rules" we're supposedly breaking?

It happens at least once a week. I receive a newsletter in my inbox telling me about the top 10 rules I’m accidentally breaking as an author or the top 5 rules I should NEVER break as an author. . .

First of all, I haven’t published a book in 4 years, so I KNOW that I haven’t broken any of these rules recently, but I can’t help but wonder where all these rules are coming from and what’s going to happen if I’ve broken one of them. Is my college professor who ruled over her grammar class like a dictator going to show up and lock me in grammar prison?

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Hell in Huntington by Zach Larson

Dark waves crashed onto the beach in front of Ram, sending a spray of mist into his face and showering his bare legs with droplets of saltwater. He smelled the brine and seaweed clinging to the humidity in the air. Raising his eyes from the churning waters, he focused on the moon, nearly full in its orbit. Stars shimmered down through the clear skies. He idly checked his watch: 4:15 a.m. The clouds would come soon, veiling the sky so completely that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. What did Hades hate about the light of day? The God of the underworld should want a bit of sun and relaxation, right? Why else would he have forsaken his throne and set up shop on a California beach? Ram sighed and tore his gaze away from the blissfully clear sky as he began his plodding march toward Huntington Beach Pier.

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