The NAO Amalgamate Inc.

Calling all writers, calling all writers. Looking for bound and determined writers in all genres. Willing to cohabitate in a four-bedroom apartment. If interested. Email L.vaga@gemini.com with a short example of work.

“The gooey gelatinous muck slowly slides past her defined collar bone leaving a red neon trail or burning flesh---"

“What the hell are you writing, Zoë?”

Slamming her head against her ancient home computer, a muffled answer to the question seeps through.

“I have no idea.”

“What? Can you lift your head and speak to me?”

“I said I have no idea what I am doing. I thought freewriting will get the crazy nonsense out of my head so the good stuff would come through. But what I am getting is just plain, Blah, blah, blah.”

“Well, I am sorry to hear about your troubles. Where is Charlie? I brought breakfast for everyone.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Can you not hear the ruckus that is coming from his room?”

As if on cue a loud band and moan almost simultaneously escaped from the closed door.

Both ladies stared at the door, just to be rewarded, when it finally opened. A disheveled Charlie emerges wearing his usual less is more bed sheet as a covering for his lower region.

“Charlie, is everything well with you?”

He smiled and walked over to Ella; who by the way bought the breakfast; and just smiled. The smile gives her the knowledge that all was not only well but better than anyone can get.

“Well?” Zoe asked waiting for Charlie to answer Ella’s question.

“Hey, Charlie I really have to go. Tell the others I had to go back to the apartment before the coach finds out we were all out before the competition, today.”

A tall six-foot-two red head said as she walked over to Charlie and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Good morning ladies.” She said with an Irish accent. Then left the apartment as quickly as she appeared.

“Why do I bother being concerned about your well-being?” Zoe said as she went to the kitchen to dish out the food Ella brought.

“I had a very difficult piece I was working on and I had gotten writer's block. So, I figured might as well get out and do some research for my work. I needed to get inspiration.”

Two other inspirations appeared on the threshold of Charlie's doorway. One was not as tall as the redhead but still had a decent height on her. Her physique was also thicker around the legs, arms and butt area. The third and final was a surprise when a young man with the body of a Greek god stood right next to her.

“Oh, Lillian said she had to get back before the coach found out,” Charlie told the two well-bedded people who began to leave their apartment. Only the thick female gave him a kiss that made Zoe and Ella question what happened in that room.

“So, what kind of research were you doing?” Zoe asked

“Do not act shocked. I write erotic and risqué books. You Zoe write horror and science fiction and you Ella write about romanced and unrequited love. We all get writer’s block and we all have our way of getting out of it.”

“Yeah, but the guy??”

“You’ve never had a guy in your room before,” Ella said as she walked towards the kitchen.

“Well, I needed to be a slight voyeur last night. I’ll leave it at that. If you want more details, buy my book.”

Zoe stuck her tongue out at him and in response, Charlie’s smile became larger.

“You both do know what today is right?” Ella asked as she put a buttered croissant in her mouth.

The blank stares told her what she needed to know.

“Today we are getting our fourth roommate.”

“Right, I had forgotten. Another female.”

“You love living with females,” Zoe said while drinking her coffee.

“I love it if I can have my way with them. Living with you two is like living with cousins. Not the kissing kind either.”

Charlie turned and headed towards his room.

“Why are you leaving?

“You want me to stay like this to meet her, Zoe? I mean neither one of you has seen the goods.

You want her to be the first?”

“You're so dirty.”

“That’s what I get paid for.” He said as he walked into his room and dropped the sheet revealing his untanned but firm bottom.

“Ella, what type of writer is she?”

“The company did not say. Only that they found what they are looking for.”

“Great.” Every syllable oozes sarcasm.