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Lashings of Sauce
Edited by UK MAT
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2012 by UK MAT
ISBN 9781611523386
Cover Credits: Alex Beecroft
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
The stories herein are copyrighted by and remain the sole property of their respective authors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the authors imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
Lashings of Sauce
different strokes for our very different folks
Edited by UK MAT
Table of Contents
1. Introduction
2. Post Mortem by Jordan Castillo Price *
3. Dressing Down by Clare London ***
4. Et Tu, Fishies? by JL Merrow *
5. Zones by Elyan Smith ***
6. Sollicito by Charlie Cochrane *
7. A Few Days Away by Elin Gregory **
8. Vidi Velo Vici by Robbie Whyte *
9. Shelter From Storms by Sandra Lindsey **
10. Faulty Genes by Rebecca Cohen *
11. Lost in London by Tam Ames ***
12. My Husband by Zahra Owens ***
13. Waiting for a Spark by Lillian Francis *
14. Social Whirl by Emily Moreton *
15. School for Doms by Anne Brooke ***
16. Dragon Dance by Josephine Myles *
17. Reclaiming Territory by Becky Black *
18. About the Authors
Heat levels:
* Lightly Seasoned
** Moderately Spicy
*** Lashings of Sauce
Introduction
The year 2012 is exciting for Britain, what with the Queens Diamond Jubilee, hosting the Olympics, and most importantly of all, the third annual UK GLBTQ Fiction Meet! To celebrate this years event in Brighton, our charmingly decadent south coast resort, we decided to ask the attending authors to celebrate everything that makes Britain and mainland Europe a great place for GLBTQ folk to live.
In Lashings of Sauce youll find seasoned writers rubbing shoulders with the fresh talent on the scene. Youll find stories both saucy and sweet, along with many poignant and thought-provoking contributions. Most stories are set in contemporary times, but we also have tantalising touches of science fiction, the paranormal and magical realism, along with intriguing journeys into the recent and more distant past.
Not all of our writers are British. We have contributions from American, Canadian and Belgian writers, as well as Britons currently living in mainland Europe. What everyones stories have in common, though, are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and genderqueer characters enjoying what Britain and mainland Europe have to offer. Our wonderfully diverse range of cultures and landscapes, and our colourful and quirky people have proved to be a fabulous inspiration for our muses.
I would like to thank all the authors for their generosity in providing their superb stories for free, so that the profits from this anthology can be used to help secure the future of the UKs premier convention for GLBTQ literature. If you enjoy their contributions, please show your gratitude by going out and buying some of their other work. I would also like to thank Alex Beecroft, Charlie Cochrane, Clare London and JL Merrow for volunteering to help me select and edit the stories, and to everyone who kindly volunteered to help with proofreading.
I hope you enjoy the readI know I did!
Josephine Myles, May 2012
Post Mortem by Jordan Castillo Price
Equals sum A1 through A1133, and why was the damn cell throwing an error? Arthur Mubarek rubbed his eyes. Normally, finessing a spreadsheet was as easy for him as falling off a bicycle, but not now. Hed been out of sorts all week. On Monday he missed his bus. On Tuesday he brought the wrong container and ended up with nothing but gravy for lunch. By Friday, it was a shock hed even made it to work showered, dressed and breathing. Usually Arthur had a mind like a steel trap, but lately his attention had been diverted to the impending disaster of his upcoming double date. Opposite his ex. Whod been the one to dump him, and now, evidently, presumed he was so pathetic he needed to be set up with any gay man who had a pulse.
A bit scrawny, but hes a nice enough bloke. Since everyone knows youre a right royal prat, its not as if you can have your pick of the lot, can you?
Arthur glanced at the clock. Nearly five. Too bad he wasnt authorized for overtime, like anyone with a job in the private sector would be. Then he could call his condescending ex and cancel the whole mortifying evening. But the Royal Mail was as unlikely to approve overtime as they were to send Arthur to an Excel workshop that actually taught him anything he could bloody well use. While the overtime excuse would clearly be a lie, maybe there would be a way to cancel the date without going into too much detail. Maybeif he texted his regrets.
He pulled out his mobile. Cant tear myself awaygo on without me
Mr. Mubarek, sir?
Was it that daft Federal Express carrier, the American with the blindingly white teeth who was always getting lost? Again? Arthur glanced up, and instead found a trainee in red dithering in his office door. Too bad. The FedEx chap did pretty good justice to a pair of navy shortseven if he couldnt figure out the lay of the office building to save his life. Well? What is it?
The young man in red stammered. Itstheres
According to procedure, youre to present your issues to the manager. Arthur turned away to finish his text. He sensed the trainee lurking there and pondered how long it would take him to go away.
The trainee was persistent. But, sir, I am the manager.
Arthur looked more closely at the lad hed mistaken for a trainee, since he appeared to be, how oldtwelve? Arthur glanced down at the text hed been trying to compose and sighed. It was far too curt. If only there were some way to bow out gracefullybut unfortunately, if those words existed, Arthur had no idea where to find them. When he looked up again, his eyes fell on a name badge. Mr. Pike, is it? Arthur pocketed his mobile, steepled his fingers, and adopted a tone of deliberate patience. What seems to be the problem?
Pikes cheeks coloured. Well, itsumno one can make out the label. Return address, neither.
Then chuck it in with the other undeliverable post.
When Arthur pulled out his mobile again, it wasnt with any intention of finishing his text. He did look in its direction, though, as he waited to see if Pike would take a cue and leave him alone with his date-dread. But Pike did not. He lingered there in the thick silence, unwilling to let the matter drop. Arthur humoured him a third time, and said, Come on, then, out with it. Whats the real problem?
Pikes cheeks blazed. If you could justhave a look, sir. Like, now.
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