![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/04\/Ebooks-web2019.jpg?resize=830%2C120\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
In May of this year, the book won a Bram Stoker Award for Superior Achievement in a Fiction Collection. Instead of an interview, this time we asked the author to provide a story that\u2019s not in the book, as a kind of bonus\/addendum, but also to give a sample of the kind of eclectic fiction you\u2019ll find in the full collection. Without further ado, please enjoy the melancholy, romantic apocalypse of \u201cCarmine Lips and a Fade into Oblivion.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n “Carmine Lips and a Fade into Oblivion” At sunset Jack Queen opened the balcony\u2019s glass door, and a spray of fine sand came in with the breeze, sprinkling across his black derby shoes and over the carpeted floor. Once there\u2019d been housekeeping here, but no more.<\/span><\/p>\n Outside, the blue waves were peaceful, gentle things rolling over the beach, and in the distance the turn of the cove rose high, up into cliffs that were rocky and mysterious and dotted with tall pines. All of it\u2014the scenery anyway\u2014was just as he remembered when coming here in his youth.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMelancholy much?\u201d Ava asked, joining him.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOver there,\u201d he said, pointing to a line of square white buildings wrapping around the shore, \u201cI stayed for a week with friends. We rented a room that was much too small, but it was all we could afford. There was a festival, this car show and rock bands and swing dancing, all the retro nods. I could really rattle a dance hall back then.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, Daddy-O, you sound like one cool cat.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He hadn\u2019t smiled in a long time, not until meeting her. Now it felt normal again. \u201cNothing like you, kitten.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She trailed one long finger along her bottom lip, taking a smear of carmine lipstick with it. She touched it to the tip of his nose, leaving a mark. \u201cFor you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She was quick. But so was he. Jack moved in for a kiss, just a peck. \u201cFor you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n A daub of her carmine stayed on his lips. It tasted vaguely like the cherry on an old-fashioned sundae.<\/span><\/p>\n Ava\u2019s giggle belonged on stage. \u201cAt this rate, you\u2019ll be wearing more cover-up than me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWho have I to impress, but you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cLucky fella, you\u2019re a mile ahead.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He closed the glass door, drew the gold pleated drapes like the ending of a show. The room darkened.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI feel so covert in the shadows,\u201d she said.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI always liked my privacy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cFor later, then.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d She took his hand. She wore a ring on every other finger, each with a different gemstone: pink diamond, purple topaz, green emerald, there were more. Under the sun, her hands sparkled. \u201cReady?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAs ever.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n They left the hotel room together, went out the long cement landing to a flight of stairs, her five-inch heels clacking with each step. Besides the soft din of the sea, and the screech of a toppling metal signpost, there were no other sounds.<\/span><\/p>\n At the bottom of the stairs, through a cobblestoned path lined by overgrown lavender and wild sage, past the fountain of a dolphin that no longer worked, was a narrow turnabout in front of the lobby entrance. There were two cars on long-flattened tires, and Jack pointed to the first, a silver Jaguar Roadster with top down and the inside leather a pale cream, all of it speckled by the glittering of sand.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Ava nodded, approving. \u201cIt suits you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Jack escorted her to the passenger side, and said to the empty valet counter, \u201cNo need, Jeeves, I\u2019ll get the door.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Once in, she brushed back a lock of raven hair and opened a vintage Chanel clutch. Took out a compact. Looked at her reflection and flicked away a stray lash.<\/span><\/p>\n When Jack got in, he saw her watching through the reflection. She winked. He winked back. The clutch was still open, in her lap. It took only a passing glance to know what else it held.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cA girl can\u2019t be too careful,\u201d she said, returning the compact inside.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBetter to have and not need than to feed the worms. I think Tennyson said that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She cocked a perfect eyebrow. \u201cHm?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMaybe not.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She slapped his shoulder. Her fingers lingered there, then trailed down his arm like falling tears.<\/span><\/p>\n He put an old key in the ignition that didn\u2019t fit. It didn\u2019t matter. He forced it in as far as it would go, then he sank back into the seat, dreaming of a road.<\/span><\/p>\n Her hand moved to the AM radio and spun the loose chrome knob, watching the little red needle fly back and forth silently across its glass face.<\/span><\/p>\n Jack began to sing. \u201c<\/span>Don\u2019t let the stars get in your eyes<\/span><\/i>\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat ain\u2019t half bad,\u201d she said.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThanks. Choir as a kid.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAnd look where it got you now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSerenading a doll.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou got a way, Jackie boy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a metal case. \u201cMind a smoke?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She already had a lighter in hand, and lit one for them both. She leaned over, laid her head on his chest, and they were silent, sharing that last cigarette, gazing up at the sky that closed in around them in indigos and mauves while a moon slowly appeared as something between a shimmering pearl and a pool of champagne.<\/span><\/p>\n After some time, he sighed and flicked the glowing stub out the car, and it sailed end over end into eternity. \u201cWhat do you know, we\u2019ve arrived.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAnd not a red light on the way.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He got out, went around, opened the passenger door for her. She took his arm, and they took their time moving past the same empty valet counter and into the lobby where sand skittered across the floor, and a cobweb draped away into shadows.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThe lounge here,\u201d Ava said, \u201cI heard Dean Martin once played.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo kidding,\u201d Jack said<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThe things a girl knows. Allow me to order?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSurprises are the spice of life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMore than ever.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The doors to the lounge had been fastened open, and they went inside. It was empty, but for them, with a dance floor that was intimate and painted to show the silhouette of a jazz ensemble. Tables-for-two circled around, and Jack chose one in the center, where a glass skylight arched over, and a line of chandeliers cut across.<\/span><\/p>\n Ava went behind the bar, mixed them each a Whiskey Smash from bottles that still lined the dusty shelves.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re the last two people in the world, kiddo. Make \u2019em strong,\u201d he said.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t know that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThe last two people around here, at least. It\u2019s too late to find anyone else.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She met him at the table and set down matching highballs. \u201cButton those lips, baby. The subject\u2019s sore, after all.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He looked her in the eyes. \u201cYou\u2019re right. And you\u2019re beautiful.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She touched the lipstick smear on the tip of his nose. \u201cYou\u2019ve still got my color.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m keeping it. For luck.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s all coming your way then.\u201d She opened her clutch and pulled out a small plastic bottle. It was filled with colorless pills. She set it on the table inbetween their drinks. The end of the world, or a little sooner, otherwise\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n He eyed it, then looked away. That smile, he couldn\u2019t help it\u2014it came back.<\/span><\/p>\n She said, \u201cWhenever you\u2019re ready.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n His hand reached out to touch the plastic bottle, then changed course. He instead lifted a glass, and she did too. \u201cCheers to the years.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWish there\u2019d be more,\u201d she said quietly.<\/span><\/p>\n They drank, and he took her hand, swirling one finger around her smooth palm. \u201cA dance?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThought you\u2019d never ask.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n They stood and moved to each other, and his arms went around the small of her back, and her arms draped around his neck. He nodded at the bottle on the table. \u201cHow long? I mean, once\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAn hour, maybe two, if we\u2019re lucky. After that there\u2019ll be nothing left of us to find.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cGood thing I feel lucky tonight,\u201d and he tapped the tip of his nose.<\/span><\/p>\n He gave her a little twirl, and then half-stepped to the side, and she came back and stepped with him, their legs intertwining, and he nuzzled under her ear, and she held him tighter.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAll this sand,\u201d Jack said. \u201cThe dust that remains of a mountain. The Earth, our lives, everything comes to an end.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSing me a song, and make it sweet,\u201d she whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201c<\/span>Don\u2019t let the stars get in your eyes<\/span><\/i>\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n In the distance came the terrible roar, searching, nearing\u2026 Even as far as they were, the room trembled. The chandeliers swayed. They might have been on a ship cresting a wave.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a ways off, yet,\u201d Jack said.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAn hour, maybe two,\u201d Ava replied. \u201cIf we\u2019re lucky.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cTiming, ain\u2019t it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSerendipitous, at the least.\u201d She pulled him back to the table. \u201cBetter for us than the others.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She returned to the bar and poured another round, then they took the drinks and the pills, and he took her hand, and they left the lounge, the lobby, the dead silver Jaguar behind, and went back up the stairs to the room where the drapes were already pulled closed.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI heard it\u2019s a thing to see,\u201d Jack said, \u201cwhen it reaches us in the end.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cShh, the subject is sore.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n So Jack instead vowed to take off the rest of her lipstick without using his hands, and Ava giggled, and another roar came, louder and nearer, and they rode it out in each others\u2019 arms for that last hour or two, until it was all done.<\/span><\/p>\n #<\/span><\/p>\n We hope you enjoyed the free story. Check out the full collection at Cemetery Dance<\/a><\/span>, or visit your favorite online retailer.<\/span><\/p>\n![\"Coiver](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.cemeterydance.com\/extras\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/growswild-233x350.jpg?resize=233%2C350\")
We\u2019re devoting this latest eBook column to Eric J. Guignard\u2019s story collection, That Which Grows Wild<\/em><\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n<\/b>by Eric J. Guignard<\/strong><\/p>\n