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Jamie DeBree, Writer

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Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 52

This serial novel is posted in draft form every Friday. 


Chapter 52

Holly sat between the thick stalks, her heartbeat picking up speed again when she heard Eddie call her name. Did she dare go back? After walking what felt like a long way through the dark field, she'd circled around, staying at the perimeter distance she'd set in a half-circle until she was behind the plane. Or she thought she was, anyway - it was impossible to tell in the dark. It was risky, she knew, but there was no way she could go farther in the soft loam. Her leg just wasn't up to it yet.

She had to warn Eddie about Sean. Be brave, she thought as she used her good leg and a corn plant to steady her as she rose. You can do this.

One step and then another, she moved in the direction of the shouts, emerging into the clearing to see the truck idling just under the nose of the plane, and Eddie jogging through the headlights, looking for something. Her, maybe. She started to call out, but stopped when a shadow slipped out of the darkness and into the cab.

Sean.

Holly watched helplessly as the engine revved and the truck started rolling toward Eddie, who jumped aside at the last minute before he would have been run down. She yelled then, but her words were drowned out by the loud motor as Sean floored the truck and drove off into the field. She strained to see in the dark, looking for Eddie near where he'd jumped, but he wasn't there. He'd been so close...why had he left the clearing?

The noise from the engine faded, and she decided to risk revealing her position. It was better than sitting in the dark by herself. Maybe Eddie was still within earshot.

"Eddie?" She hobbled to the slide and tried not to think about what would happen if he got hurt. "Eddie! Where are you?"

"Here."

She turned around, joy swelling at the sound of his voice from somewhere behind her. "Thank God. I thought you'd gone again."

He came striding out of the black night holding out his arms, and she went to him, throwing her arms around his neck as he pulled her tight against his chest.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered in her ear as he held her tight. "Who was that in the plane? I thought it was you, but--"

"Sean," she said, pulling back slightly. "Sean survived, somehow, and he got free while I was waiting for you to come back. He got a gun when he went into the pantry, and I had to get away from him. I deflated the slide, but he came down anyways and I hid in the corn..." She stopped for a breath, and he pulled her close again. His strong arms around her were a haven, and while she knew they had to find a way home, she felt safe for the moment.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked, raising her head just enough to look up at him. He closed the distance between their lips and kissed her, slow and soft. It reminded her of that first night in the bar, when he'd kissed her merely to make a point. It all seemed so long ago, like another lifetime, really.

"I suppose," he said after one last kiss. "We should find a place to settle in for the night. You can't walk out on that leg, and with the truck gone, we're stuck until it's light at least. Once the sun comes up we'll figure something out." 

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Writer's Notes: In the Stocks

Today I bought my very first stocks (or I will have by the time you read this). No, not the sort of stocks you lock people in so the villagers can throw rotten veggies at them (we made a set of those a couple years back, actually). I'm talking about buying shares in businesses, bought via a broker. Or in my case, what's referred to as a "discount brokerage" where you manage your own portfolio online. Monday night I opened a Sharebuilder account (it's the only reputable brokerage online I could find that didn't have a minimum opening account requirement or excessive fees), Tuesday night I gave myself a seriously comprehensive crash course on investing and markets and types of stocks and strategies and risk tolerance, and then *breathe!* I researched quite a few stocks I was interested in and started forming my own investing strategy (it was a busy night).

As of today, I'm a bonefide stockholder with a baby portfolio, and a stock ticker on my tablet to keep tabs on the four companies I bought shares of, plus the other companies I may want to invest in later.

I have been wanting to do this for over ten years. The idea that I can buy a piece of a company and in doing so help the company out and if everything goes well and we all get lucky, maybe even recoup some of my investment is just amazing to me. I've looked into it a few times before, but most large brokerage firms have a $1000 minimum starting account, which is just too much for me to be comfortable "playing" with in a situation where the money is at risk (however low that risk might be depending on the investments, the stock market is *always* a risk). And I didn't want someone else handling the decisions for me either - back to that whole "control freak" thing, it's my money, and win or lose, I'll decide where it goes. Another part of that is I don't want to invest in companies that I have ethical or philosophical issues with, so I want to know exactly what my money's supporting.

Sure, I could have spent the $200 I invested on other things...but it wasn't *needed* for anything, and that was a key factor in my decision. My personal number one rule for the stock market is never invest money you can't afford to lose.

What does this have to do with books and writing? Not much, really. But whether I make money or lose money (probably both, ultimately), it's a new experience, a new set of emotions, a new knowledge base and a new way of looking at things (not to mention a goal achieved - yay!). And *that* can be considered just as much an investment in my own writing/publishing business as it is for my life in general, because the more experiences I have, and the more perspectives I have to choose from when I'm creating/writing characters, the better my writing will get. And we all know that good content is a cornerstone of a solid writing career.

Hmm...stock broker heroine, anyone? Stay tuned...

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Weekly News, Goals & Prompt - May 21, 2012

Prompt o' the Week: A street vendor is closing up shop for the night, and notices a homeless woman sitting in a nearby alley. Struck by her thin frame and matted hair, he makes up a couple of hot dogs and takes them to her with a bottle of water. At first, she doesn't respond, but when she finally looks up, his heart breaks when her eyes meet his...




I jinxed myself last week, thinking I could get a bunch of stuff done while my husband was out of town. Alas, it seems that I was meant to clean out my refrigerator instead, as evidenced by the defroster thermostat going out Tuesday night. Long story short, it was noon on Friday before I had refrigeration again, and there was a lot of cleaning and cleaning out to do in the interim. All of my plans to write, revise and edit up a storm? Gone with the refrigeration. 

It is kind of ironic that one of the episodes of Dr. Quinn I watched last week centered around a scam involving investments in a new-fangled "home refrigeration unit" that was just a box with a chunk of ice in it... 

Needless to say, aside from a clean fridge and my normal serial scenes, I don't have much to show for last week. But I did get my new camera, and it's *awesome*. Clear pictures, all the time, even with my rather shaky grip (as you can see by the wolves above). That alone was worth the expense. Now I can start updating my nail art blog again, and bothering everyone with pics of my yarn and clay experiments...

And I did spend some time at ZooMontana on Saturday for our local Geranium Festival, which was fun. That's when I snapped the wolf picture - lazy pups. Talk about a head-rush laying downhill like that, eh? 

So this week, I really need to step things up. I did actually revise the first chapter of Indelibly Inked last week, so if I can continue working on that a bit at a time, at least it will be progress. And I'm so very close to the end of Irish Cream I can nearly taste it (Bailey's, anyone? Mmm...Bailey's). If I can finish that one, and get another...say...three chapters (?) of II revised, I'll consider the week a success. 

I've decided that posting on Saturdays just isn't going to happen - I'm too busy crafting and playing offline for that to really be feasible. So I'll leave Tuesdays open (for now), and my new "Writer At Play" feature will slide into the Thursday spot, starting this week. I actually have two posts already written and ready, I just haven't gotten them posted, so I think this will work better. 

Goals for the Week

- Four serial chapters (finish IC if possible)
- Revise three chapters of Indelibly Inked
- Catch up all blogs
- Work on a better post-writing schedule (I've gotten lazy - need to remedy that)
- Finish updating web sites
- Start checking/using calendars regularly again 
- Return emails owed
- Catch up Goodreads shelves (I'm so far behind!) 

That's it for the week...happy reading and/or writing! 

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Weekly Round-Up May 14 - 19, 2012

Posts I found particularly interesting/intriguing/entertaining this week: 

Things You Shouldn't Show Strangers on Planes from Don't Pet Me, I'm Writing

Critique Partners from Piedmont Writer

Man Candy Monday: Vin Diesel from The Sound of Rain





My own posts, for anyone who missed them and might want to go back: 

Fiction: 

The Minister's Maid, Ch. 52 - romantic suspense
Animal, Ch. 30 - thriller
Irish Cream, Ch. 15 - erotic romance
Falling in Public, Ch. 51 - romantic suspense

Non-fic: 


Happy Reading!

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Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 51

This serial novel is posted in draft form every Friday. 


Chapter 51

Eddie followed the highway until he saw the blanket bundle he'd abandoned earlier. Turning onto the dirt road, he stopped long enough to retrieve his supplies and then continued into the corn field, the dim headlights illuminating only a few feet in front of him at a time. He knew he needed to turn off into the field soon, but the truck was old, and he wasn't confident that it would be able to navigate the soft topsoil while mowing down six foot stalks. At least he'd be driving with the rows, instead of across them.

Moving as slow as he dared, he watched the right shoulder for a shallow pitch into the field. When he found it, he turned the wheel sharply and guided the truck into the corn, hitting the gas hard enough to give it a push, but not so much it would dig the rear tires in. Still, his forward momentum slowed to nearly nothing, and he fought the urge to gun the engine, switching into a lower gear instead.

Slowly the vehicle inched forward, and he carefully gave it a little more gas, letting the tires shift until they found a path. Finally they settled between the rows where the dirt was slightly more compact, and he put his foot down, mowing down a two-row path through the corn.

The headlights were nearly useless, blocked by the crops, but a beam of light shining taller than the field caught his eye as it moved slowly back and forth. It had to be coming from the plane - it was too close to be another farm, and too low to be an aircraft in flight. But why would Holly be drawing attention to herself?

He pushed the truck as hard as he dared, watching as the light stopped moving briefly, and then plummeted to the ground.

"No," he whispered, pushing harder on the gas. "It couldn't have been her. She just dropped the light, is all. It wasn't her." He gripped the steering wheel tighter, all of his muscles contracting as he tried to convince himself that everything was okay.

But why had she been holding the light in the first place?

The trip felt like hours, though he knew it wasn't. When he finally saw the slide lit up in front of him and hanging limp directly below the hatch, he thought his heart would stop.

Leaving the engine running, he got out of the truck.

"Holly!" He ran to the slide, checking every side and covering as much ground as he could. "Holly? Holly, answer me! Where are you?"

He couldn't find her, but there was no answer from overhead either, and his pulse pounded with fear. Widening his circle, he peered as far as he could in the dark down each corn row, scanning the ground for footprints or anything that might give him a clue for where she was. Surely if she'd fallen, she'd be near the plane...it was a small piece of hope, but a motivating one.

On the tail side of the plane, he found scuff marks and smaller footprints in the soil, and he ran back toward the truck, positive they had to be hers. She couldn't have gone too far with her leg, but if she was moving across the rows rather than with them, it would make everything much harder.

He frowned as he got closer to the truck, thinking he must be more tired than he'd originally thought. It seemed like the headlights were moving toward him, but that couldn't be...or could it?
Thinking back, he remembered getting out of the truck, but leaving it running for the light. A quick pat of his pockets told him he didn't have the keys.

The engine revved, leaving no room for doubt. But if Holly had gone the other way...who was behind the wheel?

The truck was coming fast, and Eddie dove to the side, scrambling around the back-side of the slide just in time. Gaining his feet again, he sprinted toward the tail end of the plane and the rows where he'd seen Holly's footprints. He had to get to her before whoever was in that truck did.

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Writer's Notes: After the Wedding


If you read here regularly, you probably know I've been mainlining old episodes of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman. When only the first season was available online, I went ahead and *bought* the entire series on DVD. I go on these binges, you see...normally, it's a week's worth of non-stop Harlequin Blaze books, back to back until I just can't read anymore (considering I read at a fairly quick pace, I can read a lot of those in a week when I'm on a bender). Less often it's erotica (or subsets of the genre), but I burn out on those within a couple of days. 

I've no idea why it had to be Dr. Quinn this time...except I was craving romance, and doing my nails, and decided to load up the pilot "for old time's sake" one Saturday night. I'm not going to tell you how many weeks it's been...I've been trying to overdose myself so I can move on, but sometimes you just have to go with it until it burns out, you know? 

Anyways...I realized something fairly early on - I never actually watched all six seasons of the show back when it was popular. As a matter of fact, I stopped fairly soon after the wedding episode. This was a "thing" with me in my younger years - I figured after the two main characters got married, the story was over. Nothing else to see here, move along to the next romance. Because what could possibly be romantic about being married? 

*Ahem* Yeah, I know. Needless to say, I hadn't gotten married yet.  

In any case, now that I've been married for quite a few years, I have a slightly different outlook on married life, and romance in general. And now that I've watched past the point of the wedding in Dr. Quinn and I'm watching episodes I missed out on before due to my general naivete, I'm wondering why there aren't more romance novels that deal with what happens *after* the happily ever after. 

Heck, for that matter, I'm wondering just why TV writers in general can't keep a storyline going after main characters decide they like each other on a weekly show. I mean, relationships are so layered, so complex, and yet so simple at their very core...there's plenty of area to explore and delve into from that first look all the way through the various stages that follow. Why doesn't romance encompass more of what it means to be in love long-term? 

I know for me, the romance didn't end when I got married - in fact, it's as strong now, if not stronger, than it ever was. Maybe that's not true for all couples, but in fiction, we can make it so. So why don't we? 

Why don't I? 

Needless to say, I have some new ideas percolating...

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Weekly News, Goals & Prompt - May 14, 2012

Prompt o' the Week: A golden lab tugs the leash out of his owner's hand and runs off, owner in hot pursuit. Out of nowhere a man tackles the dog, and after a brief struggle on the ground, runs off as the owner catches up. While checking the scared pup for injuries, the owner finds something attached to the dog's collar...


I trust you all had a good weekend, whether you were celebrating or not. Personally, I dropped off a gift for my mom on Saturday, and then stayed home Sunday to avoid the well-intentioned but misplaced holiday wishes I seem to get merely by virtue of my gender. Women don't have to be mothers to be complete and happy with their lives...yet every year I get the "but you have dogs" or whatever, so you're still a mom. Um, no. I'm a dog owner (one who loves her dogs very, very much, but I'm not their mother). Implying that I simply must be a mother of "something" simply because I'm female is a bit insulting, to be honest, though I'm generally polite to those who just don't get it (which seems to be most women). I made a conscious choice *not* to be a mom, so implying I must be whether I want to or not sort of diminishes that choice, in my mind at least.

ANYways...now that half the women who read here have clicked off in a huff...back to more fun subjects. Like books and clay and cameras and vacations...

Last week went pretty darn well, if I do say so myself. I got my serial chapters done (though I didn't finish the story I'd planned to...it just wasn't "there" yet), got a new camera ordered ('bout time), and started updating my web graphics and sites. I even finished the new cover art for The Minister's Maid - I think it turned out quite nicely!



Saturdays are turning out to be my "crafting" days (though this summer my husband has informed me we're building a shed, so my crafting may get superseded for a few weeks), and I have to say, I am enjoying every minute. I do still get twinges of guilt for not doing something business/writing related, but when I sit down to write on other days now, it seems like my head is clearer, and it's easier to focus. So while I may be less productive as a writer than I would otherwise be, I think it's a good thing overall. This past weekend I made my first polymer clay coaster, some little mushrooms, and a bookmark prototype that I think will need more work before I get the pattern down right. The coaster still needs to be finished as well, but I'm pretty happy with how it's coming along, and I'll post pics when it's done.

Speaking of pics - I'm very excited about the new camera I ordered! It's a Sony Cyber-shot (insert a bunch of letters & numbers here) with capability for video and 3D images as well. Unfortunately it won't be here until next week, but I think it will be worth the wait. I miss having a good camera to share pictures with.

My husband is leaving for Las Vegas tomorrow - his pool team is playing in a tournament down there this week. That means five days alone for me - and while I'll get really tired of that by about day 3, I'll have a lot of extra time to get things done. My plan is to do revisions on a novella that I'd like to release this spring, and finish one or two of my current serial drafts so I can get those into editing/revisions as well. I'm taking tomorrow off work so I can take him to the airport (at 4am, thank you very much), sleep in, and have some more dental work done, but I should be able to start my writing blitz then too. Fun!

So then, that said...here's my list for the week:

- Four serial chapters
- Finish 1 to 2 serial drafts
- First revision of Irish Cream, then send to editor
- Complete revisions on Indelibly Inked, send to editor
- Finish web site/blog updates
- Update Goodreads
- Finish the clay coaster I started
- Re-watch the last episode of Castle

That's going to be *plenty*, but considering the TV season is over, I'll have the TV off most of the week, and aside from eating and working out, my time is my own, so I should be able to get it all done.

Here's to a productive week all the way around!

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Weekly Roundup - May 6-12, 2012

Here are the posts that caught my attention in the my feed reader this week:

Harlequin Fail at Newbie's Guide to Publishing

Bunnies! It must be bunnies! from Painted Lady Fingers

Awesome nail art from Polish Galore

Picking Up Letters from B.J. Daniels

And here's what I was writing/posting this week:

Non-fiction

Writer's Notes: Men, TV, & Mental Orgasms
Spring Pink, Frugal Dad & the Great Camera Search

Fiction

The Minister's Maid, Chapter 51 (romantic suspense)
Animal, Ch. 29 (thriller)
Irish Cream, Ch. 14 (erotic romance/bdsm)
Falling in Public, Ch. 50 (romantic suspense)

If you're a mom, I hope you had a great holiday...and if not, I hope you had a fabulous Sunday!

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Serial Novel: Falling in Public, Ch. 50

This serial novel is posted in draft form every Friday. 


Chapter 50

She'd jumped too far out.

Time slowed, like in the movies as she felt gravity pulling her down, the slide's angle too steep for her momentum. Flailing, she stabbed desperately with the knife, knowing the only way to slow her fall was to penetrate the thick layer of rubber and create friction. Time was running out quick, and each stabbing motion brought her closer to the plastic material, but not close enough.

Swinging her arm out to the side, she pushed the serrated edge into the seam where the side bolsters met the bottom, and dragged it hard and pushed her other shoulder into the rubber bottom, finally anchored just as her feet hit the bottom barrier. She bounced back up, the uneven angle of the inflated side throwing her off balance as she was catapaulted out to land in the dirt ten yards away.

"Ow," she said, keeping her voice low and curling up into a fetal position. Every part of her body hurt, and as some of the initial hurt dulled, she forced herself to wiggle her toes and fingers. Satisfied that they were okay, she tested her larger joints. Luckily it didn't feel like she'd broken anything.

"You never were very graceful, were you Holly?"

Sean's voice floated at her from somewhere above. He hadn't left the plane yet. That meant there was still time, if she could find her way back to the slide in the dark.

Bright light swept over the ground just inches from her position. The damn flashlight. If she could just avoid it and get to the bolsters from behind, she might be able to do some damage. The plastic knife had gone flying when she'd bounced off the bottom edge, but something sharp was poking into her hip. Moving carefully, she rolled over and felt the ground with her fingers. The pointed edge of a small rock pressed into her palm, and she picked it up - a far more effective weapon than plastic utensils.

"Come out, come out, whereever you are!" Sean's taunt sent shivers down her back as the beam of light moved closer. He was sweeping the ground with it, going side to side in a steady motion, to his detriment. She waited until it reached the farthest point away from her, then pushed to her feet and ran toward the plane, using the point where the flashlight was for reference. Unable to see, her knees hit the end of the slide and she fell, unable to hold back a grunt of pain as she scrambled around to the other side. Bent over with her hands on her knees, she breathed for a moment, safe from the light, at least. Then she turned and jammed the pointed rock into one of the inflated edges as hard as she could and pulled down, relieved to hear a small ripping sound followed by the hiss of air escaping. She ran to the other edge and did the same thing, the slide already beginning to fall toward her.

Slipping the rock into her pocket just in case, she tried to remember which way Eddie had gone earlier. She had to hide - the deflated slide would only slow Sean down, not stop him. But if she went the wrong way, she could easily get lost in the corn field. The highway was a nearly straight shot from the center of the plane, but that would be too obvious. She took a few deep breaths, shoved the pain to the back of her mind and started walking as fast as she could in a straight line through the tall stalks under the plane's nose. 

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Writer's Notes: Men, TV, & Mental Orgasms


I'll do my best to do this without spoilers, but you should know that part of today's post deals with this week's season finale of Castle. Also know that if you've made it this far without seeing the episode or having someone spoil it for you, I'm insanely impressed that you've managed to avoid such a huge part of writerly pop-culture for this long.

So. I was sitting there watching Castle with my husband Monday night. Ladies, you might be surprised to know that men (or mine, at least) don't watch this particular show for the same reasons we do. They actually watch *more* for the crime-solving aspect than the romantic tension. I know, I know...it's weird, but that's just the way they are. I'm fairly certain my husband likes the humor as well...

(Note that I'm not implying we women don't care about the mystery...because I certainly do. But the character chemistry is largely what keeps me coming back to this particular show, crime dramas being a dime-a-dozen on TV, and others having more interesting cases than this one.)
 
Where were we? Right. Watching Castle.

So the writers are doing their level best (and a damn fine job too, IMO) of pulling the emotional tension so tight that it grabs us and won't let go. The Black Moment (that moment when we *think* things might work out, and then they just get much, much worse instead) is perfectly executed and I'm hanging on every word, allowing myself to be strung along like some druggie badly needing an adrenaline fix. Things are ratcheting up to a fever pitch, and it looks like all is lost, but we still have hope because we can't help but trust the writers. Not because writers are normally trustworthy in these situations (quite the opposite, in fact), but because we *simply can't help ourselves*. That's how strong the emotional connection is between us and the characters.

Finally the defining moment is almost here. That one moment where all the tension and conflict that's been so carefully built up over the past weeks and months (heck, years!) is going to either pay us off, or let us down in the worst way possible. Women across the globe are sitting in their chairs, eyes riveted to the screen, waiting, hoping, praying... completely wrapped up in the emotions of two characters whose actions from here on out have the power to define our mood for the rest of the *week*....

And then it happens. Endorphins rejoice, that "feels-so-good" feeling starts to calm the desperate need and happiness flows through our veins. It's perfect, and passionate, and everything we hoped it would be. For once, the writers came through, and we're ready and willing to throw ourselves wholeheartedly into the arms of the next man to even look at us the right way, because we're primed and ready for romance. Love, contentment, peace, passion...it's all there, taking over not only our minds, but our physical responses as well. Some might even call it orgasmic.

And at that exact, too-perfect moment, my darling husband says, "Wow, that was quite the thunderclap in the background, wasn't it?" (or something to that effect)

Seriously? Seriously?!

Just like that, all that lovely tension, all the "feels-so-good" feelings disappear, and I'm left with...nothing. Emptiness. All that work, all those emotions, all that wondering and waiting and hoping...squashed flat under the weight of one insanely well-timed, mood-killing comment. Naturally this is followed by more inane or "meant-to-be-humorous" comments throughout the most important scene of the entire show, not that it matters by then.

*sigh*

He can't help it, I know. And from what I've heard, he's not the only one who does this sort of thing. I love watching TV with him, really I do...I love that we share an interest in the same shows, but this one little thing is such a *big* thing sometimes...and basically means I end up re-watching shows by myself to recapture that emotional "high" that was ripped away from me the first time.

There are really only three options for dealing with this that I can see - one is duct tape, which could work, but I'd be worried about him suffocating. The second is just not to watch shows with him where I'm emotionally invested in the characters, so there's nothing for him to "rip me away" from. That's my strategy with the Dr. Quinn series as I re-watch it...I watch alone, so he can't ruin the payoff moments for me.

The third is what I normally do with TV shows, and that is to just assume that any strongly emotional moment will inevitably be hijacked, and plan to re-watch the show again later without him. It's not nearly as satisfying, because the second time will *never* be as good as the first, but...well...we make compromises in relationships. That's how they work.

Ladies, does this happen to you? What's your solution?

Men, do you do this? And if so, has it occurred to you that you could just as easily take advantage of a woman in this state, instead of ripping her away from a mental orgasm?

Oh, and just FYI - this happens with books too. So if you interrupt her, and she gives you the Death Glare of Doom, you may want to find somewhere else to be for awhile. That kind of a tease is no laughing matter. Really.

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