Date: Tue, 22 Oct 1996 23:27:54 -0400
From: Debra Ann Fiorini <Guenvier@AOL.COM>

Here's a short silly piece I wrote a long time ago and just found stashed
away...

Disclaimer:  As we all know, the Forever Knight characters do not belong to
me.  I am only borrowing them and will return them unharmed when I'm done.

I'd really like to hear opinions on this piece, so please send comments
(hopefully nice) and criticism (hopefully gentle) to:  Guenvier@aol.com

****
Night Life   1/1
by Debra Ann Fiorini

    Her agent, a middle-aged woman with grey-streaked blond hair, closed the
cover of the slightly-creased manuscript and handed it back to her.  There
was little sympathy in her voice, "I'm sorry.  It's just not your best work.
 Besides, I don't think there's a market for it."

     "You're kidding.  I thought this was the hot topic!  You know, this was
not an easy book to write."

     "Well now, it's not like you had to do any actual research for it."

     "I most certainly . . . !  Oh, nevermind."

      Frances Grey, a literary agent with a name to match her uncheery
disposition, lit another cigarette and studied the young author cynically.
 "You know, there's always the chance you can make it into a children's book.
 Now there's a market for that.  Kids are into that horror stuff."

     "But . . . but it's a love story ! !"

     "Not a good one though." Frances Grey pointed to her coffee-stained
notepad and read aloud, "Too much angst.  No consummation.  No closure.
 Puh-leeze."  Frances flicked the ashes off the end of her cigarette.  "And
the names - Mick and Natasha - just a bit soap opera-ish, don't you think?"

     "Well, it was as close as I could come, Fran.  You just wouldn't
understand."

     "What we would need to do," Fran continued, "is to change your name."

     "Why ??"

     "Because you're hot !  Teresa Gooden is a rising  star in the
competitive world of self-help and non-fiction.  You would need to
disassociate yourself from the horror stuff.  Now it's not like I want to
discourage you from trying your hand at a fictional book, but what ever
prompted you to write about a vampire cop with a female coroner for an
on-again, off-again love interest, and a nightclub owner for a . . . um,  a .
. ."

     "Master."

     "Yeah, that's it."

     "Well, its a very personal story and I'm not making it into a children's
book !"

     "Suit yourself.  But as it stands, there's no market for it."

     Discouraged, the author placed the unwanted copy of "Night Life" back
into her briefcase and removed a newly finished manuscript, handing it to
Frances.  "How about this?"

     There were a few seconds of silence before Fran pulled off her reading
glasses and smiled.  "Oh, now this is great!  Police procedural is hot!"

****

     Tracy Vetter looked up from the report she was working on, distracted by
a chorus of "I don't know. . .  I don't know"  coming from the desk across
from hers.

     "Nick, " she said, dropping her pen in disgust,  "if you say  'I don't
know' one more time,  I swear I'm going to pull the wooden leg off this desk
and hit you with it."

     "I'm sorry."  Nick pouted, "but no matter what Nat asks, I just -"

     "Don't know."  In unison, Tracy and Natalie finished his sentence for
him.

     "Nick,"  Nat sighed and pulled her chair closer, "It's not like I'm
asking you to make a life-altering decision here.  I'm just having my new
boss and her husband over for dinner and I want to make sure I have a really
high-class wine on hand.  I want everything to be perfect and since you are
slightly older than I am and have traveled somewhat more, I would really
appreciate it if you would tell me which wine to serve.  One of these names
must look familiar.  C'mon Nick, you know French !"

     Nodding,  Nick resumed studying the wine list before him.

     Natalie rested her head against his shoulder as he read.  "How about
this one?"

     Nick sighed and started to duck, "I don't know."

     Nat let out a short laugh.  "You are pathetic, Nicolas Knight.  I
expected more wisdom and expertise in worldly matters from you.  After all,
you have had a life someone could write a book about!"

     "Oh, don't be so sure!" Tracy pushed out her desk chair and stood up.
 "I've tried - and there's no market for it!"

     Confused, Natalie watched Tracy storm away, smiley-face mug in hand,
towards the nearest coffee pot.   "What on Earth was she talking about?"

     Nick shrugged and shook his hand, "I don't know."

Finis.


Debra Ann Fiorini
Copyright 1996.

Send comments to:  Guenvier@aol.com