Saturday Snippet

It's Saturday, a day of Rainbow Snippets! This Cauldron can no longer officially play, since it's been blocked on Facebook. However, it wants to offer up something. Since this isn't officially a Rainbow Snippet, it's longer than six sentences. I tried to keep it fairly short, though.

Here's a little teaser from 'The Hand and the Eye of the Tower', the first novel in 'Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest'. It's got m/m. It's got f/f. Above all, it's a bromance between a pair of twins, living in isolation with their family in the shadow of a mysterious tower.

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“We’re all like that rose.” Someone was speaking to him, someone who wasn’t Dayell. His voice sent a shiver of mingled fear and devotion down his spine. “Every boy with magic in his soul is a rosebud waiting to bloom. If I don’t force my dream upon you, you’ll never blossom. I hope you understand this.”

Danyell felt himself nod, the strange thoughts filled with eager anticipation. He took a step forward, feeling the Shadow Forest closing in around him...

“Danyell! Don’t let yourself be stolen away!”

Dayell’s frightened cry brought Danyell back to himself. He looked down at his hand, which was small and thin, as always, though his palm had red marks upon it. The sky overhead was morning blue, as it should be.

Paula's Prompt: Something Else

Here's one of my responses to this week's prompt from the amazing Paula Wyant at ptwyant.com! It involved a dalmatian, a piano, and a pair of gloves. It's the only response to her prompt which isn't competing in Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words Flash Fiction WriMo contest. I didn't feel this story was GLBT enough to compete. (rueful grin)

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“Take off your gloves,” the dalmatian said. It sat with its muzzle lifted with a certain aloof arrogance. 

The human looked down at her hands. Yes, she was wearing black gloves. They hid the scars underneath. 

The piano seat beckoned the human. If she sat down, she could play again. She could be free. She just needed to take off the black gloves. 

“They’ll see my scars,” the human said out loud. 

“Well, yes,” the dalmatian said. It lowered its head slightly. “Unless you can make them think of something else when you play.”

The human hesitated. There were a lot of her kind in the room. Most of them were milling about the bar. Drinking cocktails. Watching each other out of half lidded eyes. No one was paying attention to her. 

It was comforting, but also a little irritating. Here she was, trying to see if she had the nerve to pull the gloves off. No one was acknowledging her dilemma. 

No one, except for the dalmation who sat curled up on the sofa. It watched the human with liquid eyes. Expectantly. 

The human got up and pulled her gloves off. 

How ugly the reddened, puffy flesh looked! The human shuddered to see her own hands. She glanced over at the dalmatian. 

The dog turned its muzzle towards the piano. It flapped its ears with the motion. 

The human walked over to the piano. 

Now, other humans were starting to watch her. However, her attention was drawn to black and white keys, awaiting her. Ebony and ivory, side by side. She shyly touched one of them. 

The sound was perfectly in tune. It reverberated in the human’s ears, sending shivers down her spine. 

She began to play. 

Other humans turned their heads towards the one playing the piano. Not one of them looked at her hands. 

The dalmatian nodded her head and allowed her tail to thump the cushions beneath her. 

Saturday Snippet

Saturday is time for Rainbow Snippets, where six sentences of GLBT fiction are posted and shared. Alas, this blog can no longer officially play, since it's been blocked from Facebook. It still wants to play, unofficially. This snippet is longer than six sentences as a result.

The Cauldron must also warn you, if you live in Europe that it uses mysterious cookies that neither its keeper nor it understands. We are obliged to warn you about them, so consider yourself warned. :)

Today, we're sharing a lost scene from my National Novel Writing Month project, 'A Godling for Your Thoughts?' This scene didn't make it into the draft. I may insert it doing the revision process, because it shows a little more of the relationship between Danyell and Thomas, before that relationship changed.

His name was Thomas. He had a round, reddish face that constantly scrunched up into a sort of sneer. Thomas was taller than Danyell, not to mention twice as big, something he never got tired of pointing out. 

“I take after my father,” Thomas would declare with noisy pride to any boy who would listen. “My father is a hero. He’s killed hundreds of monsters, bringing home all kinds of treasure he took from them.”

“Why?” Danyell asked. Thomas clearly expected him to be impressed by this information, but Danyell didn’t get it. “Why did he kill the monsters? Was it just to steal from them?”

“Of course not! My father isn’t a thief! He’s a hero!” Thomas looked outraged at Danyell’s question. “Heroes are supposed to kill monsters and take their treasure!”

Me Me Me Monday

It's Me Me Me Monday, a day to strut and promote all things Me. :)

I've been working nonstop on my NaNoWriMo project, 'A Godling for Your Thoughts?' I'm almost at the end, but I'm feeling a little frustrated.

A lot of scenes I wrote in advance. A lot of them didn't make it into this draft of the manuscript. I'm hoping to change that. I thought I'd share a little scene here, which I badly wanted to use, but I didn't get to.

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“They’re not your brothers, not really,” Dyvian said, as he moved a little closer to Leiwell. His multicolored gaze was fixed upon the younger man, changing into an icy blue, the same blue as Dayell’s power.

He’s studying me, Leiwell thought, as if I were a puzzle he had to solve. Perhaps I am. He said nothing, even though he could feel himself tensing at the suggestion that the twins weren’t really his brothers. He wanted to interrupt with a snarled denial, but he’d listen. He had to take Dyvian’s measure, find out what his intentions were.

“Danyell and Dayell are creatures of shadow and desire. They are fragments of other people, given form and identity.” Dyvian paused, clearly choosing his words with care. “This is why they have an instant connection with so many people.” His white eyebrows shot up, as he nodded, ever so slightly. “This is why they can never truly be your brothers, or yours in any way.”

“You’re wrong.” Leiwell’s own words came out soft, but the compelling truth within them was palpable. Dyvian could hear it, he was sure, even taste it. “They’re not just my brothers. They’re my reason for living, for smiling, for striving to be anything.” Confront the lord with the truth, the way he always confronts you. “They’re my hope for a better world.”

Saturday Snippet

It's Saturday, time for Rainbow Snippets, six sentences of GLBT fiction! Alas, this poor little blog can no longer participate officially, since it's still being blocked by Facebook. However, my Cauldron here would still like to play, so it's offering up six sentences from 'A Godling for My Thoughts?', my NaNoWriMo project. It's a little longer than six sentences, but the sentences are short.

“A godling for your thoughts?” The question was a low tease, as the man pulled the tiny icon out from behind the boy’s ear. It was a trick, an illusion. Nothing, but a coin laid in the man’s hand. The boy still giggled at the sight of it.

The man smiled, seeming to bask in the boy’s laughter. His multicolored eyes, however, were troubled. “Seriously, Leiwell, what’s the matter?”

Promo Friday!

It's Promo Friday! A day to show the world what you've got, what you're up to, and what you're planning.

Lately, it's been all about National Novel Writing Month. I've been working hard on my book, 'A Godling for Your Thoughts?'

'A Godling for Your Thoughts?' is part of a series. I call it 'Tales of the Navel: The Shadow Forest'. Fairly strange, eh? No kidding. This series may be the weirdest thing I've ever written. I struggled with the first book, 'The Hand and the Eye of the Tower' for years.

I love it, though. 'Tales of the Navel: The Shadow Forest' and its wacky, jumbled denizens are very dear to my heart.

Which is why I thought I'd share a taste from the very first book, 'The Hand and the Eye of the Tower' here today.

“I know you’re there. I can feel you. I’m blind and cannot touch without you.” It was a childlike plea, as well as a seductive whisper. Danyell wanted to respond, but didn’t dare. He lay very still, so the voice couldn’t find him.

“I know you’re there.” Something cold and damp was inches from his face. A misty, icy breath kissed his quivering lips. “I can taste you!”

“No!” Danyell cried, trying to squirm away. The movement of his own body woke him up. There was grass against his cheek, almost poking his nose. He looked up, squinting in the sunshine.

A shadow leaned over him, blocking out the sun. Danyell gasped, as a face exactly like his own loomed overhead.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” Dayell said. His twin was looking down at him. “At least, not of me.”

Me Me Me Monday

It's Me Me Me Monday! To celebrate the glory of me-ness, I thought I offer a couple of teasers from my f/f fantasy fairytales, past and present.

One is from 'Fairest'.

“Once upon a time, she was the kingdom’s greatest treasure. Now, she is its greatest sorrow,” the good witch murmured. The anguish in her voice made my chest tighten in pain. I didn’t know why. “She was the fairest of them all.” With a visible effort, she turned her head. She looked at me, as if she were forcing herself to see me. “You’ve met her. She’s the one who put the curse on you.”

The second is a of 'At Her Service', my gender bending interpretation of 'Cinderella'. 

Eager to please, I’d open the closet. A cascade of all kinds of slippers, scarves, and gowns would come pouring out of the wardrobe, knocking me to the ground.

The noise would distract my mistress enough to look up. I knew better than to try and meet her gaze, though the temptation was always there, along with the fear. 

“Cinders.” She never yelled my name, though the sharpness of her voice was jarring than any shout.