Hi everyone!

I'm pretty new to fictionpress.com and I'm trying to figure out if there might be some other way to find a beta reader. I've tried and tried to contact the mods about the apparent broken link on the beta reader search option but there seems to be no response. Is there anyone here who can help me?

' Whoa. '
That was all Marlon would say as he ran thick fingers through Ling's hair, feathers dropping out in their wake.
Ling winced.
' ... yeah. '
' Dude. At least you have an excuse for hair dropping out. Moulting though... '
Marlon sounded as if he was on the verge of laughter.
' Tsk. ' it was all Ling would say before pushing the hand away, pale face flushing slightly.
' It's a season thing? '
' Mm. You're taking this rather well, aren't you? '
The mohawk'd man spread his big hands out, shrugging his shoulders.
' After the past few days. '
Ling paused. True.
Feathers in his hair paled to what had happened the last few days.
' Why can I see it now, though? '
' I can probably come up with a whole theory about spiritual energies and such... '
' Save it. '
The bruised, battered man smiled oddly, and wrapped one arm around Ling's waist.
Another pause.
They were out in the streets, walking with people to see them. Of course, some people guessed and talked but Marlon -
Ling glanced at the other.
' Hmm? '
Maybe it was just a momentary psychosis.

But really, Ling did not mind. No, he did not mind - not at all.

Does anyone have the Exorcism of Emily Rose Soundtrack? The music is composed by Christopher Young I believe? I cant find it anywhere. I will love you forever if someone has it. zipped mp3 format please. thank you so much!!

Desecrated arm with flesh wounds and tattered clothes
Were once covered in tumeric and sparkling gold
Lying awake through the night, saddened and cold
Nightmares churning with the stories untold
No where to go, No one to see,
Is this a mystery or a misery?

Thoughts unfurling as you see her on the road
Arms filled with a waning child and a barss bowl
Clinging on with legs weakened by hunger of a four year old
A sight so mind numbing it bores holes deep down in the soul
No where to go, No one to see,
Is this a mystery or a misery?

So much could become of her tainted beauty
Such potential could be found in the cubicle next to me
Torn and broken down by circumstances' charity
Yet mourning out loud is only used as a means for a meager livelihood
No where to go, No one to see,
Is this a mystery or a misery?

I praise you, O women of infinite strength
A smile still seeps through each painful moment
Testing me with the courage to have the same sentiment
Cherishing each and every gift God sent.
No where to go, No one to see
Your life is an inspirational masterpiece.

"Because I Don't Know"
May Swenson

Because I don’t know you, I love you:
warm cheeks, full lips, rich smile,
dark irises that slide to the side,
thick lashes, thick hair, gleaming
teeth and eyes, your hand in greeting
warmer than mine, wider in blue shirt,
rolled sleeves, in dark jeans belted –
I liked your robust shoulders, wide neck and
tipped-up chin. That glow is blood
under skin that’s warm to begin with,
almost dusky, the red showing
through—of health, of youth—but more:
your open, welcome, I-could-hug-you look.
We met once or twice, exchanged smiles:
your lips curl-cornered to my thin,
crooked grin; your easy, laughing eyes
to my sharp star. Did it pierce you
there, my look of hunger, like a hook?
I wanted only a sniff, a tongue-tip’s
taste, a moment’s bath in your rare
warmth. That last night, trading
goodbyes, when we kissed—or you did, me—
my hand took your nape, plunged under
the thick spill of your hair. Then
I stepped into the dark, out of the light
of the party, the screen door’s yellow
square sliding smaller and smaller behind
me. You’ve become a dream of ripe
raspberries, in summer country: deep, dark
red lip, clean, gleaming generous smile.
Who owns you? I don’t know. I’ll hide you
away in my dream file. Stay there. Don’t
change. I don’t know you—and had better
no. Because I don’t know you, I love you.