I am a Guest Author at Queer Magazine Online

Today my article about religion and the LGBT community is up at Queer Magazine Online.

Queer Magazine Online

Begging for Votes

I just received this in email...

Hello Authors and Publisher,

This is a group email to let all the authors of June 2012 know that voting is open for the Best of June 2012. Your title appeared on the D. Renee Bagby Presents First Chapters blog in June and that's why you're receiving this email.

There are two ways to vote though you can only vote once:
#1 Visit the blog : http://www.drb1stchp.com/2012/07/vote-for-best-of-june-2012.html

#2 Go directly to ballot : http://2707165.polldaddy.com/s/best-of-june-2012

They both go to the same place.

Quick FAQ:
- Voting ends on the 23rd
- Anyone can vote
- There are two categories : Best Cover and Best First Chapter
- The winner of each category will have the cover linked to the chapter post featured in the sidebar
- The winner of each category will also compete in the Best of Year Three (April 2013) which the winner gets 12mths of advertising on the blog
- Winner(s) announced on the blog and via another group email 01 August
- The winner announcement email will also include a list of voters who chose to receive newsletters from the authors

Fabion Under the Spotlight: The Epic Interview

Fabion, my supermodel elf prince from An Elf for All Centuries, has finally emerged from enjoying sex with his new lover. My, someone looks flushed.

FABION: “Yeah, tell me about it. Whew! Come on, Henda’s been in a serious ride his pretty pony hard mood and I am hardly turning him down. Neeeiiigh way. Ha, get it? Yeah, whatever. Okay, you keep harassing me about this interview and I keep ducking you. Great, bring on the questions. I usually love the interview process. Talking about me is never a hardship, right?”

S.A.G.: These aren’t my normal questions. I threw in a few silly ones I found on the Internet.

Fabion: “That doesn’t sound cool. Okay, whatever, toss me the first question.”

S.A.G.: Which are you, a key or a lock?

Fabion: “Geesh, you ask me those kinds of goofy questions, eh? What’s next, ink blots and weird swirly patterns to determine my relationship with my Pops? Fine, during my life as a supermodel, I usually liked being the key. Now that I am back in the stone— I mean the nineteenth century, I dig being a lock. Someone else loves using his huge key to turn my tumblers, yeah, baby!”

S.A.G.: Why am I not surprised? Next! When you walk into an unfamiliar room, what’s the first thing you notice?

Fabion: “The closest mirror so I can make sure my hair is looking fine. Tee-hee. I tend to notice details, like if groovy flowers soften the room or if great accessories like the rug or wall hangings match. Yeah, if a room is painted like blood red, I’ll notice that first and probably run the other way. Someone who paints a room blood red isn’t all there to me. Blood red walls means they’re trying to hide something gross.”

S.A.G.: You are being served dinner and the server dumps soup in your lap. How do you react?

Fabion: “Really, lots of these questions have different answers since I used to be more of a jerk. If the soup is hot, I’ll stand up and scream, no doubt about it. Back in the day, I might even have slapped someone in fine pissed off diva style. Now if the damned soup is hot, I’m still gonna scream, but I won’t hit anyone. Around here the human servers are too cute to hit, ya know?”

S.A.G.: If you say so, sweetie. Now, imagine you wake up one morning and discover you have turned green. You…

Fabion: “Any reason why?”

S.A.G.: No, you’re green.

Fabion: “What shade of green?”

S.A.G.: Does it matter?

Fabion: “Pfftthh, the fuck yeah it matters. Hey, a dark emerald green might not be so bad.”

S.A.G.: Okay, how about a bright acid green?

Fabion: “Ouch, yeah, no way. First I’d think someone had punked me, so I’d try scrubbing off the color in the bath. If I remain acid green, which would so clash with my sizzling red hair, I’d run screaming to Mattie and beg him to change me back. I’m sure my wizard pal knows a few tricks for getting out the green.”

S.A.G.: How pleasant to have a wizard around to solve your problems.

Fabion: “Damn skippy it is. Hey, if you turn green, I’ll ask him to help you.”

S.A.G.: Gee thanks, I’ll keep it in mind. Here’s a brain teaser. You are in a pitch-black room. You need matching socks and you have 19 grey socks and 25 black socks. What are the chances you will get a matching pair?

Fabion: “None because I don’t own gray or black socks, well, yeah, I’m sure some black ones hide at the back of one drawer. I’m more into green although here no one really sees my socks because of my cool boots. Why am I trying to match socks in the dark? Did the big dude forget to order more candles? Wait, hey, I never get up when it’s dark. Is there a point here?”

S.A.G.: I’ll mark this as you don’t want to answer the question.

Fabion: “There’s no reason to answer it. Pfftthh, it’s silly. Nothing in that question pertains to me.”

S.A.G.: Striking any math-oriented questions. Great. This one might be more to your liking. You walk into a room of strangers and catch someone regarding you with abject hatred. How do you react?

Fabion: “Abject hatred? Really? Like he’s gonna run up and knife me type of abject hatred? Yep-a-doodle, I would react. I’d beat it the hell out of there fast.”

S.A.G.: You’d run away?

Fabion: “Listen, if it is a room filled with strangers, I bet it’s a party or high-assed social function. If anyone gives me that serious level of stink eye and I don’t know why, then I don’t wanna know them. Common sense, correct? Diplomacy. Yeah, if by some chance I happen to wear my sword to the party, which I can’t imagine why I would, a duel might break out. That sounds fun. Yeah, I can see myself tapping the dude on the shoulder and calling him out. Well, maybe. Depends on if the big dude is with me. If Henda is with me, I’ll ask him to give the nasty bugger his first class ‘don’t fuck with us’ stare. Henda’s primo cold stare is lethal.”

S.A.G.: But if you are alone and armed, challenging the nasty bugger is an option.

Fabion: “Sure, why not? I’d fuck with him, get him down on the floor and ask him what the hell is his problem. I wouldn’t hurt him.”

S.A.G.: Duly noted. If you had to apply a label to yourself, what would it be?

Fabion: “Do you mean literally stick something to my body like a warning label? That would be ‘warning, contents under sexy pressure.’”

S.A.G.: No, not stick the label on you. More like a label to describe you.

Fabion: “Pretty much the same thing. 100% Sexy Elf.”

S.A.G.: Sounds like time to move this question up in the ranks. Who is sexier, you or your big dude lover?

Fabion: “That is so not fair. Look, I am sexy in my own way, granted an extremely special way, but Henda is sexy in that low-key confident manner that makes him, well, even sexier. There. But come on, as a supermodel, I needed to market my sexiness. I doubt if I’ll ever kick the habit of strutting my stuff. That’s the thing, my big dude never struts his stuff. His stuff struts without him knowing it’s out there attracting attention, ya know?”

S.A.G.: Your answer is your big dude Henda. Fabion? Hello?

Fabion: “Yep. Let’s move along already.”

S.A.G: Fine, fine. Here’s another brain teaser. What do wood and alcohol have in common?

Fabion: “Aw shit, that’s easy. Wine casks. You need wood to help the wine ferment until the brew has an alcoholic content. The answer is wine casks, right?”

S.A.G.: There are many different answers. It’s a silly question.

Fabion: “Like what other answers?”

S.A.G.: Like they both burn or can’t drive a car.

Fabion: “Righto, I get it. I coulda said they don’t need to wear clothes and I’d still be right, eh?”

S.A.G.: You nailed it, dude. Ouch, wrong thing to say around you.

Fabion: “I’m being a good little elfikins and just smirking at you.”

S.A.G.: Right. Using a scale of 1 to 10, how smart are you?

Fabion: “Smart as in being a smart ass or— okay, geesh, quit shaking your head at me. I know I’m not the brightest bulb on the tree, around here that honor goes to Henda, Mattie, and even Tah, but I’m no drooling knuckle-dragger, right? I give myself a 7 or, on a good day after the big dude has cock-stirred my brain, an 8.”

S.A.G.: Here’s a silly one. The cow jumps over the moon. What day is it?

Fabion: “The day I need to quite drinking tree-sap wine because if I start hallucinating that badly, my brain must be short-circuiting.

S.A.G.: You just stepped into a new question. Would you rather have an ugly scar across your face or lose 15 points of intelligence?

Fabion: “Aw hell, easy one. I already said I think I’m pretty bright, so I’d go for the intelligence loss. Hey, loosing mental points won’t make me any less creative in the bedroom, right? I know my big dude wouldn’t care about any stupid scar, but I would care since I want to give him the best, got me? He doesn’t deserve to look at a scar.”

S.A.G.: That’s one way to think about the matter. Would you care if Henda had—

Fabion: “Nope. I might not be real happy if his cock drops off, but he could have a freakin’ novel tattooed across his face and I wouldn’t care. That’s the thing, he has been in serious battles and there’s not a mark on him. I know we heal super fast but I tell you, nothing spoils his flesh. By now I’ve inspected every inch. Henda owns perfect, lickable skin. Yummy-yum-yum.”

S.A.G.: Hold on, no running back to the bedroom again. Since we are talking about Elves, why do you think there so many variations on what an Elf looks like?

Fabion: “You mean like my kind of Elf, sexy, svelte and hot, opposed to something like a Keebler elf? Humans do have a range of weird conceptions about Elves. Why is that? They’re either cute and live in trees, or wicked, evil critters who like run around stealing babies or yeah, noble powerhouses like me. I never have understood it.”

S.A.G.: I’m all for your kind.

Fabion: “But you wrote Alasdaire as a downtrodden bed slave. His Elven race is abused and banished.”

S.A.G.: Yes, and aren’t you glad you’re not in his world?

Fabion: “Fuck yeah. The Stone Age has a few, well, lots of problems but as long as I have the Big Dude at my side, everything is peachy-keen.”

S.A.G.: Time for a silly question. Why is a carrot more orange than an orange?

Fabion: “Because it’s shaped like a cock.”

S.A.G.: Not following your logic here.

Fabion: “A carrot is cock-shaped, which is means it has tons of primo confidence. It knows it’s more orange than an orange, but the carrot feels sorry for the drab, round orange, so the carrot lets the fruit claim the color. Get it?”

S.A.G.: To my surprise I do. Okay. Anything that has a cock shape has confidence?

Fabion: “Why not? A cock is pretty damned special. Hey, I am not knocking the female bits, okay? That’s special if you like that sorta thing. I’ve always been all about the carrot, the cucumber, the sausage, the wiener, the zucchini, get my drift?”

S.A.G.: Yep, the drift knocked me over. Here’s a little teaser. If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?

Fabion: “The only time I try to fail is if the big dude starts acting cute and chases me around the suite. Naturally, I put up a little resistance, but I always let him tackle me. To me, that counts as sexy success.”

S.A.G.: If you could add an extra appendage to your body, what would you select? And no, a cock isn’t on the list.

Fabion: “Awww, you know me all too well although limping around with two cocks sounds a little excessive. I’d like a third arm but only if it was more like something I could tuck away when I didn’t need it.”

S.A.G.: Something more along the lines of a tentacle?

Fabion: “Urrrgh, no, just something I can whip out when I want to give Henda a bigger thrill.”

S.A.G.: Can you cry under water?

Fabion: “Absolutely. Why not? I sure as shit started crying when I thought I might drown battling the big, bitchy waves. The trouble is you can’t do the snotty choke cry or things start getting nasty in shitstorm speed.”

S.A.G.: How scary. I know you’ll love this question. If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?

Fabion: “Ha! Considering that mostly morons nitpick about morality, that sounds good to me. To me, morality is try your hardest not to act like a total asshole and don’t murder anyone, well, unless it’s in self-defense or during a battle. The whole do unto others jazz, right? Granted when I was a supermodel, I tended to act less moral than I do now, but I never went out of my way to hurt anyone first. I reacted when acted upon. I’m not real big on turning the other cheek. I mean why, so some asshole can slap both cheeks? The only cheek slapping I dig is on my sweet ass. Wait, where am I going with this? Geesh, fuck, I’m confusing myself. Hey, did you already take those 15 points of brain power away from me?”

S.A.G.: Not at all. I understood where you went there. You’re correct, too many people want to impose their sense of morality on everyone.

Fabion: “And that pisses me right the fuck off. Geesh, am I flushed? I feel all hot and bothered.”

S.A.G.: You look fine. Here’s a really silly question for you. Why is it that night falls, but day breaks?

Fabion: “Hey, I like that one. Night falls because it’s heavy and dark. Night falls down from the sky and pushes the sun from the horizon. Ya know how there’s just that little sun glimmer before night takes over? That is falling. Day breaks because it busts apart the night. Day sends snappy sunrays out to tell night to break up and scram.”

S.A.G.: Watch out, you almost sound poetic.

Fabion: “Hey, now that I have merged with AF, I can talk fancy with the best of them. Whoops, I better not reveal top secret details.”

S.A.G.: That’s fine. A few reviews have already talked about AF.

Fabion: “Reviews? We have reviews? Hot damn, you need to let me see them. Do they love me? How many stars?”

S.A.G.: Yes, they love you. Two nice four and five star reviews.

Fabion: “Ha! Take that, Amando. He got what, one little three star review? Oh yeah, who’s the sexy star, that’s me, un-huh, go me, un-huh, I rock, un-huh.”

S.A.G.: Please, are you two going to start strutting again?

Fabion: “Amando sashays. I strut, un-huh, strut in style, un-huh.”

S.A.G.: Great, now Amando will harass me about why I never interviewed him. I am in such deep shit now.

Fabion: “Sorry. Come on, really, I’ll interview him.”

S.A.G.: “More like antagonize him. Listen, if you are serious about interviewing him, promise to be nice to him.”

Fabion: “Cross my heart and all that other jazz. Hey, are we almost finished?”

S.A.G.: One more and I will let you run back to bed. What do you believe will last forever?

Fabion: “Hell, that is easy-peasy. My love for the big dude. I mean the stars can fall from the sky, the planets collide, all that nasty shit, but our love will still be there. Henda and I are solid gold forever.”

S.A.G.: That sounds like a lovely ending. Thanks for cooperating, Fabion.

Fabion: "We're picking one lucky victim, erm, person to receive my story, eh?"

S.A.G.: Bingo, you smart elf. Thanks for reminding me. Comment for the chance to read more about the demure, sedate elf.


Fabion: "Yeah, demure my ass!"