All names. places and incidents are invented by the author or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. characters. Dedicated to my daughter. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author. who convinced me to just go for it and share the stories in my head . Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.Copyright 2009 Camille Leone This story is a work of fiction.

because the clash had been brutal. not only as an enticement for males. Absalah willed her own breathing to a measured pace. who was really just a boy felt . The authority on all things had taught her well. It was his undoing. Nothing was said during their life and death struggle. Absalah found herself wondering what he would have been like as a suitor. verily. intending to pull him aside. unable to turn from the dead humale’s vacant pupils. Her hair shall be braided or long flowing. The woods showed no hint they'd borne witness to a murder. she had survived. Only then did she hesitate. The male had been dead some hours before Absalah realized she'd won their fight. remember this doctrine well my sisters. . willing mouth to coerce a kiss.A woman is a weapon. the trees shed no leaves in grief to mark his passing. shocked at how clumsy it had all been. and the man. for females to rule Second Earth unchallenged. so she slid her arms around her assailant. something. Bloody. His carcass weighed upon her but he was still warm. fingernails need fortification with metal tips dipped in white toad venom. She should possess a soft. . Yet long after the assault she could not bring herself to push him off. The skies remained gray. Wordless sobs quaked her chest in relief. The only tears that dare flow are those of elation at our victories. the tyranny of man must be defeated by the treachery of woman. Somehow. Such were the way of things. Hand to hand combat decided in the final seconds when she’d yielded as a ploy. Breasts can and must cradle a dagger. cries that also rocked the lifeless body sprawled over her. . The ground they’d struggled upon was frigid. the next he’d made his presence known. and some minutes later he’d taken his last breath in an icy exhale. but to use as a noose for strangulation and thick enough to conceal poisonous thorns. just hardened spikes of mud stabbing into her back. wanting instead to wake him. to imagine him softly calling her name. One moment she’d been collecting kindling for a fire in the lonely wilderness. while housing an object sharpened to inflict the utmost pain.

wrapping them to each other even as his body became stiff and she could not position him thus so. as she was also a member of the Remnants. during the early stages of the war. or even a bored groan because younglings understood nothing of their historic meaning. “Mother Inquisitor. in an office that was a tin shanty reinforced by uneven planks of rusted metal on all sides. There was nothing like that first time. It was also a small miracle that the girl's paperwork looked to be in order. This time she would make every effort to appear interested. With a nod of her head she urged the youngling to go on. It took a moment for her to realize she was no longer a girl in the wilderness. The perks of being an official in the new female run government were modest at best. In the fading light she cradled him tenderly. with a no nonsense demeanor as sharp with prickly edges as her stare. The thought filled Absalah with pride. But instead of shame. This one has killed many humales before. The girl probably didn’t even realize she was speaking to the primary architect of The Maiden’s Handbook on Death. but sitting in her tiny office evaluating yet another applicant. Truly. She continued to stare at the female sitting just across the tree trunk doubling as a desk. she concentrated on the applicant reciting the sacred oath. bloomed a smile of contentment. Absalah couldn’t help but think fondly of that event in the forest. as it was highly convenient the crossbreed could write clearly.nay. Pressing him to her bosom she began stroking his coarse hair even as his life’s blood soaked through her first. Absalah Lum reveled at hearing the words she’d crafted spoken with conviction. much less answer questions in such detail. A curiosity. perchance a lover and not a foe. then second layer of tattered clothing. The girl appeared quite knowledgeable of the old ways. nothing to compare to the utter terror and ecstasy of a first kill. minus pause or stutter. Now gifted with the title of Inquisitor. considering she wore the camouflage parka of a soldier. shall I continue?” Absalah gave the female a blank stare in reply. in place of remorse. she knew it to be wrong. those older women blessed with prior knowledge of the .

“My proctor is Namira. “The end of our session is near.world exactly as it once was. The inquisitor blinked rapidly. especially one who killed for a living. “Near flawless. Though her remnant sisterhood were expiring in great numbers. She sat in silence. “Perhaps your entry into this project was a mistake. as it had earlier when the question was posed. “It’s DNA bruisers like me that won the war-” “Soldier. finding comfort with the daggers and small pistol hidden in her pants. would you. An earring would turn out to be something called a paperclip. the girl removed a thick band of hair tucked in the cowl of her parka. a droll witticism of modern origin and the only blemish in the girl’s interview. a remnant of the religious travelers. Your execution. As a member of the holy remnant Absalah knew many things. stretching out its length with a menacing glare. coiling it about each wrist as a tourniquet. pretending to be engrossed in reading her paperwork. as if her next question was distasteful. As the moments gave way. I meant no disrespect.” Absalah averted the girl’s eyes. some of which concerned the purpose of trash strewn about Second Earth. which could also double as a clothing fastener.” Absalah lowered her voice.” It was a clichéd response. it was still required to address one such as she by the term Mother Savior. your diction. Instead the applicant’s answer was. sliding her palms down her thighs. “I’ll take our ally over a humale any day. It was not wise to stare directly at a predatory female. sullenly watching as Absalah . How is it one so young has such remembrance?” The applicant’s stance softened. sneaking a hand into the folds to scratch at her stomach. all depending on Absalah’s explanation of its proper use. As the applicant finished with the salutation of obedience. the girl fidgeted with the snaps on her parka. or would you not be opposed to co-habituating with an ally?” Yes or no would have sufficed. You could change your mind and no one would hold it against you. But I ask you again. especially with your genetic alterations-” “What’s that supposed to mean?” The crossbreed’s voice snarled in offense. A plastic cup was deemed a urinal or a hand shovel. because to Absalah this was clearly no joke.

but in demeanor. not men. Before the soldier could pull the yellowed form away. Those strokes totaled the years of her life. Absalah caressed the grooves.” The crossbreed saluted. Absalah’s head remained lowered as she again attempted to smooth things over. but many soldiers continue to harbor ill feelings for our allies. a gift of reverence from Soldier Echeverra. “Do we really have to take this fuckin’ trip down memory lane?” The girl’s voice ricocheted throughout the small shack. For it was a sad truth that their generations were divided not only in ideology. stripping off the strange smelling cloth for her favorite cloak. letting in the cold air and making the office creak with each whispery blast on her face.’ I’m fertile and you’ve got my other paperwork as proof. “Should you ever need to talk. “Forgive me for being so blunt.massaged her graying temples. instead concentrating on the tiny go uging’s lining her side of the tree stump. The wood was warped. Forty three to be exact. if you change your mind or need anything further soldier Merlina Echeverra. “We are the pleasure masters on Second Earth. Absalah’s graying head still remained low. though she preferred not to think about it.” Her explanation appeared reasonable enough to make the crossbreed nod. placing them atop a mound of applications that still needed reviewing. “Is this what it’s come to? Females ranking other females for their reproductive worth? Don’t worry about my ‘reproductive organs. since I understand your reproductive organs may have been removed as was required to be a soldier-” So much for a time out.” The inquisitor removed her spectacles. Absalah watched her office door close halfway. She clutched at both ends of her new shawl. standing at attention before pivoting quickly for the exit. I would make every effort to accommodate you. even though we now fight together against human males. a tender hand landed on hers. Absalah was so moved by the soldier’s outburst that her paperwork was quickly marked as processed and held out for the girl to take. retreating into the solace of her memories. She spoke to the only . The season of frost was almost upon them. And while you are not whole. the one with dried blood. realizing the inquisitor was giving them both a chance to collect their emotions.

she alone spilled her secrets. the world they now inhabited was a complicated system of deceit.sexy. Absalah unfurled a parchment of dried bark. dipped her feathered quill into an ink pot and calmly added the name of Merlina Echeverra to her record of dissidents. with death at every turn. willingly returning to the past.” Her lover didn’t answer. If you enjoyed a sneak peek at what’s upcoming at wikkid. But perhaps with the list almost complete she could prolong the inevitable. please visit: http://wikkidsexycool.books please “like” our Facebook page. her desires.other person in the room. even though we know it is folly. he accompanied. Thank you for reading this excerpt. Wherever she traveled. His body lay as it had for years. And at night when they slept together. Yes. For more information on the novels and novellas from wikkid.cool.books.cool. and needed to be disposed of. “We are in the dark ages of womanhood. an official documentation of young females who had been taught the old ways.sexy. her dreams. propped among her hill of books. a youth fossilized into a grotesque skeleton of dung colored bones wrapped in hemp.com .

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