Julie Frost, writer

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I've had four short stories published in various venues.

"Affairs of Dragons" was published in Renard's Menagerie, which is sadly defunct. It's also available through Anthology Builder, which is where the link to the story will take you. And you can read the beginning of it here.

Summary: A spaceship crew is hired by a mother dragon to move her eggs from one planet to another. She's in the middle of an ugly divorce and an uglier clan war. The eggs aren't supposed to hatch...

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"Bitter Honey" was published in AfterburnSF and can be read online. It's also available through Anthology Builder here.

Summary: Desperate faeries raid a beehive for the honey they need to make it through a deadly winter. But at what cost to both faeries and bees?

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"Fortunes of Soldiers" was published by Cosmos magazine, with a fabulous illustration by Emrah Elmasli.

Summary: Two week's pay for one night's work, babysitting a spoiled asteroid heiress? Mercenary Jake O'Dell thinks all his jobs should be this easy. Until, of course, everything goes disastrously wrong.

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"Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf" was published by Darwin's Evolutions, with a fabulous illustration by Karl Nordman. It's available as a trade paperback for $9.99 (along with several other stories by several other awesome writers), or a high-quality .pdf download for $2.73.

Summary: Mark Newman loves being a werewolf. But when his wife finds out she's pregnant, she attempts to cure him against his will, in his sleep. Naturally, it goes horribly wrong--and it goes even wronger when she gets a well-meaning priest involved, poor fellow.

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You can read more of my fiction right here on this LJ. I have a "DVD extra" from my first novel that introduces a couple of characters to each other under less-than-optimal circumstances, and you can read that here. This is one of my very favorite scenes. And I try to post a snippet every Monday (subject to change), and those can be accessed via my snippets tag.

Most of this LJ is me whining about writing, with some Real Life and Fannish Squee thrown in on occasion. I have more information on my User Info page, or you can peruse my tags and see if anything in there looks interesting.

So. Come in, kick back, have fun. If you feel like commenting, please do.

Boy, am I late. So, without further ado and with no setup whatsoever other than "early days, right after Ben's second full moon in prison," go:

Ben was as peaceful as she'd ever seen, and it looked good on him. Angeline hoped the Nightmare Fairy would skip him for once, and she kissed his stubble before softly rising to grab a bottle of cow out of the fridge. Pulling a chair over to the bed, she shook the blood up and sipped from it cold, not wanting to awaken him with the noise from the microwave.

He'd been right about his blood. The hangover had left her. Her mouth twisted, and she wondered when he'd got so smart. The fact that he'd offered himself like that, so casually, so trusting--

Her heart lurched, and she set the bottle down quickly before she dropped it. She'd twisted him into new and different shapes just so he'd survive...but what if West had won their wager? What would have become of her puppy then? Bile rose in her throat at the thought. Assuming he lived through the first night off the table and then after, that biting sarcasm she enjoyed so much would have devolved into pessimistic cynicism. The tiny flame of hope he held of seeing Janni ever again would have died a violent and ugly death, and he would probably have goaded West into killing him by now. West was eminently goadable, and Ben was first-rate at pushing buttons.

The notion was excruciating, and something caught in her chest. A realization struck her. "Oh. Oh, good god, no."

When the hell had she fallen in love with the little wolf sleeping in front of her?

You know I love your comments...

I thought of something close to a title for the Sold Soul story the other night...

And didn't write it down.

And now the story is sitting there. MOCKING ME MERCILESSLY. (Alliteration FTW.)

*siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*

I'm quite close to posting it for the Usual Suspects to take a poke at.

Can't say I'm surprised by much of this. Rather gobsmacked that something with a script as lousy as Avatar's got nominated for Best Picture (and it will probably win), but considering the fact that the suckfest that was Titanic won 11 Oscars, I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised. Maybe James Cameron has some blackmail material on the members of the Academy.

I was very pleased to see that "District 9" also got a Best Picture nod. And I was horribly disappointed that "Moon" didn't garner Sam Rockwell a Best Actor nomination, because DAMN.

I would have loved to see "Sherlock Holmes" get something besides Score and Art Direction, but, hey. I'll take what it got, and good luck to Hans Zimmer.

My entire body feels like it's in rebellion. My head hurts, my throat hurts, and I think my uterus is trying to break free and run away. God, I wish it would, because as much as I rail about the Utter Fail of my uterus on a regular basis, it doesn't usually hurt me. I'd put this at about a six on the pain scale--and I'm not even bleeding.

Ibuprofen and heating pad. We shall see what they will do, but I may end up back in bed before the day's over, because this suuuuuuuuuuuucks.

EDIT: However, Cute Overload just gave me a baby anteater, so that at least makes me smile.

That made me wonder if I have a big ol' target painted on the back of my head. Not that I'm a BNF or anything in any fandom at all, but I've had a guy busting my chops over this very issue (yes, the link leads back to my own Photobucket account because Tinypic sucks and will eventually eat the picture) on the IMDB Sherlock Holmes board and it's just ... I dunno. Coincidental?

Paranoid agilebrit is paranoid and also has a giant ego, y/y?

Apropos of this, I've been thinking of making some macros in the style of fandomsecrets that are in no way secret and posting them here for the funny. But since I've actually been making progress on the writing projects, that notion went by the wayside. It's still in the back of my mind, though.

I can haz an END at the bottom of the Short Story. Many thanks to the lovely and effulgent sunnyd_lite for giving me a graceful way to end it, which I snatched with both hands, yes I did.

Now I have to edit it into something that doesn't suck.

Ben's been rescued. He doesn't believe it. And, go:

"Shh. You're safe now. Really."

"Cage. Demon. Syringe. Pain."

She could do something about the needle, and she got up and grabbed it. "Ben. Watch." Janni threw it outside the cell, hard, when he looked up. "Okay? I'm not going to inject you with anything. Everyone was worried about you, that was just a precaution. We've got you in here because you jumped out a window into the ocean the first time you woke up."

"That's because this isn't...fuck, obviously it's real, for a certain value of real. I just--I can't. I was supposed to die. It was supposed to be over. And now--"

"It is over. You're out, and you're safe, and you're coming home with me to Los Angeles." She went back to stroking her fingers up and down his arm, scooting closer to him, and he didn't cringe away. "Come here, sweetie. Come on." He slid down the wall onto his side, until his head rested on her leg, and she said, "Smell me, Ben. Your eyes might lie to you, but your nose never has."

"Nose is broken. Friggin' wolfsbane. I'm so tired." He wasn't tired enough to relax; although he'd closed his eyes, he was still stiff as a board, and shaking. "I miss Ange. Always knew exactly where I stood with her." He sighed. "I know I'm not going to get to see Janni ever again, because I so don't deserve that, and she wouldn't want me back anyway. But if I'm really good, could you send me back to Ange? Would that be too much?"

In other news, Cujo died in the night, which...wasn't surprising, all things considered. But, woe. Yes, I know how odd that is.

We just found a live baby mouse in our basement. It's fully furred but clearly not full-grown. A mouse morsel.

And we can't bring ourselves to kill it because it's so damned cute.

So, I've got it in a little plastic critter carrier with a capful of water and a corner of bread. We've decided to see if it lives until spring and then release it. *headdesks*

We've named it "Cujo." Because Cujo had rabies.

Yeah, toss that out the window. Behold this photo of Robert Downey Jr, in all his sartorial glory:


Note, especially, the Orange Scarf of Hilarity. Hey, no one in the history of ever has claimed the guy is a snappy dresser. (Other than the shoes. The shoes are awesome. Always.) Second-hand embarrassment, thy name is Robert Downey, Jr.

And then, there's this video:



Note the Missus, wearing that self-same scarf, at about 2:54.

I'm sure they have a barter system or something. *nods* So, I imagined a conversation at the airport (because this is clearly at an airport) that went something like this:

"Here, sweetie, hold my purse. And my carry-on. And the Orange Scarf of Hilarity."

"Aw, honey, no, not the scarf, the fangirls are going to have a field day with that, you know they are, especially that Agilebrit woman, you know, the one I took out a restraining order on..."

"Scarf, now." *wraps it round*

*meekly* "Yes, dear. OH GOD NOT THE PAPARAZ--crap."

This is not my first foray into this fandom, but it is my first not-commentfic. And since I'm all about breaking characters lately, this practically wrote itself once I had the hook for it.

Title: He Who Hesitates
Author: babies stole my dingo (agilebrit)
Fandom: The Mentalist
Rating: PG-13 (default) for blood and some language
Length: Short story (about 1700 words)
Disclaimer: Bruno Heller is the genius behind these characters; I am but a lowly follower. I make no money from any of this, so please don't sue me.
Feedback: Concrit adored! If you see something that can be improved upon, please let me know, even if it's only a typo.
Written for: pensive1, who wanted me to make Jane cry.
Notes: There's a boatload of angst here, and no happy ending for anyone. Least of all Jane. Genfic.

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( Red John tumbles down the slope of the canyon and lies in a still heap for a few moments. I follow, slipping, sliding, nearly losing my footing and flying headlong, but catching myself in time. )

When I realize that I would rather have a movie about genetically-engineered, talking, ninja guinea pigs employed by the FBI in my DVD collection--than James Cameron's overblown, overrated, overhyped labor of (self) love.

If Avatar wins Best Picture on Oscar night, I will throw something against my wall. Hard.

Not that it would be the first time.

Yes, I'm going back to doing them on Saturdays. We'll see how it goes.

"After some study, I think I may be able to help you."

"Oh, god, Chambliss, haven't I been helped enough?" He set the water aside with a shaking hand. "Just let me go smash and be done with it."

"Every single person upstairs would object strenuously to that."

Ben put his face in his hands. "You would have to bring them into this. Unfair tactic, man."

Chambliss, as always, was unruffled by the accusation. "Was it efficacious?"

He took a couple of seconds to work out what that meant. Apparently he still had some scotch in his system, and it was making him slow. "Yes." Ben's voice was muffled by his hands. "But you gotta promise me, Chambliss--" His head came up. His eyes had turned amber, and for once, he knew it. "If it doesn't work, it's the end. No more." He dropped his head again. "Because I've had fucking all I can take."

"This will work."

That's what the goblins thought before they accidentally ripped out my soul, Ben didn't say.

Comments? Questions? Rotten eggs?

As you know, Bob, I'm a huge Robert Downey Jr fan. I will go see him in a movie where he sits on a stool and reads the phone book for two hours. This is not a secret.

That being said: No matter how much of a drooling fangirl I am, not every movie he's in works for me. I loved Iron Man beyond all reason and have probably seen it twenty times. And then he did "Tropic Thunder."

And he was amazing in it. Robbed of the Oscar, IMO. But I didn't actually like the movie itself that much. Yes, it was alternately hilarious and horrifying, sometimes at the exact same moment, but the horrifying moments and the near-constant f-bombs overshadowed my enjoyment. I only saw it once, and it's not in my DVD collection (yet).

Then he did "The Soloist." Which he and Jamie are both amazing in. But it's a Big Serious Movie about Big Serious Issues, and it's not, for lack of a better word, "entertaining." Nor is it meant to be. It wrestles with a tough issue, and I'm good with that, more power to them for going there and not ending it with sunshine and roses and easy answers. But, again, I've only seen it once. There's only so much Sad I can take.

And then Sherlock Holmes crossed my radar. Well. It crossed my radar before they even began filming, because of the aforementioned "drooling fangirliness." I have been looking forward to this movie for over a year. I was terrified that it would disappoint me, that it would rape a beloved character sideways, that it would fail to Tell Me A Story. I had to wait a week after it was released to see it, for various reasons, and I was on pins and needles.

And then I finally got to see it. And it thrilled me. The characters, the story, the cinemetography, the acting, OMG the music--it was a delight from beginning to end. THIS RIGHT HERE is what a movie should be. THIS RIGHT HERE is what I want in a RDJ movie. THIS RIGHT HERE is what I want in a Sherlock Holmes movie.

The relationship between Watson and Holmes. Holmes being a badass. Holmes being too clever for his own good. Holmes having a woman fall in love with him with no idea what to do with that. Watson being long-suffering. Mary being awesome. A villain with a dastardly plan that only Holmes can thwart.

And underlying it all, a sense of out and out FUN. I've now seen this movie three times, and it never gets old. It's brought back the same feelings I had watching Iron Man. And that's why I love it.

I made wallpaper and didn't share. Shame on me. (Like anyone takes these anyway.)

Teasers:






( 1024x600 images under the cut. Enjoy. )

The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble/ficlet of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level (or not, your call). (If you absolutely can't write, maybe find a creative alternative?)

Fandoms: Firefly, Iron Man, Sherlock Holmes, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (the movie, not the TW episode), The Mentalist. Or you can request something in my own 'verse because my giant ego is giant. No slash or smut, please, because those are really not my strong suits and you don't want me to throw something out there that's badly-written, do you?

Wow, that's a really pathetic fandom list. Sorry?

I can also do icons, headers, or wallpaper. Give me a cap and a quote if you like. :)

Because I don't have enough on my plate right now.

1. pensive1: The Mentalist, make Jane cry. Filled, with "He Who Hesitates."
2. bigsciencybrain: My 'verse, Ben and Alex have a conversation about women
3. garnigal: Firefly, Mal, damnation
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.

For as long as it lasts, anyway. Since it's on Fox, I give it four episodes before they can it. And it's the Most Ridiculous Show Ever.

Yes, I'm talking about "Human Target." They had me at "Chi McBride." Also, at whoever that hot guy is who's playing the lead.

And then I saw Jackie Earle Haley in the cast and made a noise only dogs could hear. Because, yes, I loved him when I was...twelve? Thirteen? Something like that. In "The Bad News Bears." (Yes, I still remember him from that long ago. My brain is full of useless trivia.) And then my love for him was renewed in "Watchmen."

And HE PWNS ALL IN THIS SHOW. His character is MADE OF UNDERSTATED BADASS AWESOMESAUCE and I love him. So, yes, I'm so in.

Now, tonight's ep involved a jetliner. I don't know if the Hubby has seen it yet, but I'm sure he'll have...*cough* remarks...about it. Because even with what I know, the ep was LOLworthy. But it's fun.

on occasion, to receive affirmation that my writing does not suck.

I have received that affirmation today. I have to be cryptic, because I was asked not to publicize it all over the internet, so I'm not going to say which story or which publication. Suffice to say that I'm doing the Dance of Joy (in a restrained manner). More news when I get it...

No, I haven't forgotten. I've been...busy. Yeah. Anyway, I've been thinking about putting these things back on Saturdays. Thoughts?

Seeing as I'm not posting these in any kind of order whatsoever, I suppose I'll toss you a bone and tell you that this scene takes place while Ben is still in prison, not too long after this little incident put him back in the lab, strapped to a table with needles in his arms and harvesting his blood, for good. And, go:

Perez stood there for a few seconds, breathing, which struck Ben as almost funny--the fact that a vampire who didn't need to breathe was doing so, while Ben struggled for air, tickled his sense of irony. Ben waited to feel the snapcrunch that meant his jaw had broken, but it didn't come. Perez released him with a not-gentle slap to each cheek. "Frigging wolves. Nothing but trouble. How is he, Jensen? He looks like shit."

"He's having a really bad reaction to the wolfsbane this time," Jensen said from behind Ben's head. "Honestly, Perez, can't we just put him down?"

"No, we can't. Certain people on the Council want to make an example out of him, so he gets to die slow. Congratulations, wolf, you managed to piss off a couple of people who count more than I do."

"Sorry," Ben tried to say through the gag.

Perez's lips tightened, and he took the thing off. "You want to talk?"

Ben's mouth and throat were dry, and he took a few tries before he was able to speak. "This is no picnic...for me either." He barely recognized his own voice. He still couldn't breathe.

"Don't you dare ask for her."

"God, no. Fuck you, man...for even thinking...I'd want her to see me...like this."

"Never liked you."

"Not too fond...of you either." The effort of making conversation sent him into a coughing spasm, and he tasted blood and wolfsbane toxins.

You know, I really got quite fond of Perez while writing this. He turned into a decent contagonist.

has re-commenced. And I have to remind myself that small daily battles don't matter, long-term strategy does. Part of my long-term strategy includes a daily one-hour session on my recumbent stationary bike. When I first started, a few minutes would wind me. I gradually was able to do ten minutes in a row, then fifteen, then twenty, then twenty-five.

Yesterday, I did forty-five minutes in a row.

And today, I did the whole hour, and burned (it said) 500 calories. I'm considering doing another session tonight while we watch the "Human Target" pilot and then get caught up with "Fringe."

I still loathe it. But if I can knock the whole thing out in an hour and not have it hanging over my head while I recover, that's...better. I guess.

Oh, god. Wish me luck.

I can have an unplanned pregnancy.

In fiction.

See that face Harry's making? Yeah, that's about the reaction my protag is having right now. Inside. Because his wife doesn't know about his little deal, and he has to put on a happy face for her.

Now he's got eighteen years (plus a few months) to figure out a loophole or something. Good luck with that, fella.

Of course, I have...somewhat less time than that. I know something he doesn't know, but how it's all going to play out, I'm not sure. And I'm also playing with the notion that his friend Nick isn't who he says he is and this is a huge and elaborate practical joke.

I can has a method of male birth control that is supposed to be not only 100% effective, but also 100% reversible. And it can go 100% wrong at the most inopportune moment. FOR SCIENCE.

I've scribbled over 500 words today, between the novelthing and the new short story. I know, I know, it's Wednesday and I'm only supposed to be working on the short story, sue me. The scene in the novelthing sputtered to a stop anyway. I hate that I suck at the big emotional stuff. I can't help it, though--I've fixed Ben (for a certain value of "fixed"), so what do I do? Go back and hurt him some more.

Because that's how I roll.

Okay. Time to give my protag his Dream Job, marry him off to his Dream Girl, have him buy his Dream House...

And then have the wife end up unexpectedly preggers. *evil laughter*

Seriously. Most. Adorable. Couple. EVER.

OMG, y'all, FIC REC.

Anyone who's seen "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" (the movie with RDJ, Val Kilmer, and Michelle Monaghan, not the Torchwood ep) needs to go read this, right now.

And if you haven't seen KKBB, then you need to go get the DVD, watch it, and then read this.

Or you can read this, get intrigued by the narrator, and then get KKBB. Either way.

And thus time for Monday Maunderings. Without further ado, and without setting it up whatsoever:

Angeline remembered the layout of the house and headed that way. She stopped short in the entryway. She thought she'd been prepared, but even her active and frightening imagination hadn't prepared her for this. "Good god, puppy, you look--" She had no idea how to finish that sentence. "Bloody awful" seemed pitifully inadequate, while "positively horrifying" would only twist the metaphorical knife clearly buried in his chest.

"I've seen a mirror, Ange. I know how I look." His lips twisted along with her heart; she knew that expression all too well. Haunted amber eyes in a haggard face, a flash of fang, a hint of fur--all that, while he tapped away on his laptop without noticing how close to the surface his wolf was.

She jerked her chin at the computer. "Working?" He was dressed only in a pair of sweat pants that looked about six sizes too large.

"Keeps me occupied. Leaving the house is out. I can do the hacking work from here." He bared his teeth. "When I remember where I'm at. I think I'm tracking right this minute. Whether I actually am is an open question. Ask me in an hour."

Comments? Suggestions? Rotten vegetables?