Paula's Prompts

It's Me Me Me Monday! Since it's cold and I'm very late in responding to ptwyant's challenge involving a park bench, a snowman, and an empty bottle, here it is! You can find the challenge at ptwyant.com.

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The bottle was empty. Like his life. Winter was coming to an end. He sat down on the park bench and looked from his knobby, long fingers to the snowman, standing nearby. A group of children had carelessly packed him together from lumps of snow. 

Jack stared at his eyes, which a pair of cast off bottlecaps. No carrot nose graced this frosty fellow’s face. One of the children had stuck a broken twig in the center of his white countenance. 

An idea came to Jack. He hopped off the park bench to pick up the bottle. Careless of humans to abandon such treasures, both the container and the snowman! They understood nothing of the magic which resided in these things. Perhaps, he, Jack, would remind them.

He shook the bottle roughly. No, it wasn’t quite empty. A little golden liquid remained at the bottom. 

Jack skipped over to the snowman. 

“Have a drink, Frosty!” he half jeered, half sang. He upended the bottle over the snowy lump, who wasn’t much taller than he was. “Have an only too brief taste of life, as I have an only too brief taste of winter!”

Droplets of golden lights fell upon the snowman, disappearing into its white body. The button eyes changed. The holes in them started to gleam with the intelligence of human pupils. 

The snowman raised its round, lumpy bottom to reveal a pair of stumpy white legs. It began to shuffle and move.

“Come, Jack Frost!” the strange creature cried in a surprisingly merry voice for all its wintry brittleness. “Come and play, for winter is a waning!”

“Aye, Frosty, like your life!” Jack retorted. “Why should I celebrate something so brief, with a thing I gave on a whim?” He stared at the snowman. “A life, which shall be as short as this winter!”

“Why, because it’s brief, of course!” Frosty replied. Its voice grew warm and slurred as the emotions the drink conjured in humans. “Come, Jack, let’s have some fun, before everything melts away!” 

Saturday Snippet

It's Rainbow Snippets' time! Something this Cauldron can no longer participate in, because this blog is still being blocked by Facebook. :( It wants to participate, though, if unofficially.

Here's a snippet from my m/m mythical WIP, 'Aissa and Polyxena', right where I left off on QueerBlogWed. Yes, it's a bit longer than six sentences. Forgive me for that. (bows)

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“I see you’ve heard of the suitors’ promise,” Patrocles said, as his eyes roamed over Aissa. I found myself taking a step forward, in front of Aissa, reaching for a sword, which wasn’t there. Again. 

“All of Helen’s former suitors swore to defend her choice,” the big brute rumbled, as his meaty hands closed into fists. “She chose Meneleus, so we must defend Meneleus’ claim as Helen’s husband.”

“Now, Helen has been stolen from Meneleus,” Patrocles said, as his eyes fixed themselves upon me. They were filled with accusation, as if I were the one who’d stolen Helen. “By a pretty princeling, who’s no longer content with all the jewels, treasures, and iron he’s snatched through the civilized lie of eastern trade. Now, he’s stealing wives, as well!” 

QueerBlogWed

It's Queer Blog Wednesday! Time to share a blog about GLBT with the world!

I've been sick, so I missed the last Saturday Snippet, along with Me Me Me Monday. I'm not missing QueerBlogWed, though! We'll pick up right where we left off last Wednesday with my m/m mythical WIP, 'Aissa and Polyxena'.

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“Aissa!” Lycomedes said, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the shaggy pedlar. As if he was asking for permission to rise to his feet and greet us.

The pedlar man nodded, ever so slightly. He barely looked at Lycomedes, or Deidamia for that matter. His gaze flickered between Aissa and myself. 

“The lady seems to have captured herself a lost princeling, while wandering on this island,” Patrocles said. It was hard not to flinch, at the way his narrow eyes examined me. Their hungry jade shifted to a poisonous brightness. 

“He calls himself ‘Polyxena’,” Deidamia said, as she jerked her head in my direction.

This provoked a roar of bawdy laughter from the big brute. Patrocles smiled, but there was no humor in the curl of his lips. The bearded pedlar did not laugh. He simply stared at me, as if I were a riddle he was trying to comprehend. 

“You’re Trojan, aren’t you?” the bearded man asked, frowning. “From your bearing and manner, I’d say a high born Trojan at that.”

I tensed at this, really wishing I had my sword. Whoever this pedlar was, he was the truly dangerous one in the room. 

“What if he is?” Aissa asked. She raised her head, almost challengingly at the beared man. “Scyros has no quarrel with Troy, even if all of Helen’s former suitors do.”

QueerBlogWeds

It's QueerBlogWeds! A sort of twin to Rainbow Snippets, only Queer Blog Weds doesn't operate out of Facebook. Which allows this Cauldron to participate, so it's going to. Nor are we limited to six sentences. We just need to post something which is queer or GLBT.

I've decided to share a little more of 'Aissa and Polyxena', my m/m mythical WIP, which I've picked up once more. Below is a little taste from its pages.

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My free hand reached for my sword, which, unfortunately, was not there. Aissa’s hand was twitching on my arm, as if it, too longed to grasp steel. 

Why was Aissa pretending to be a girl? However, his sideways glances and twitching fingers weren’t directed towards the big brute. They were aimed at the two men with him.

One of those men was a shaggy, beared pedlar, with quick gray eyes that assessed us, as soon as we entered the room. They gleamed with an almost acquisitive hunger, as they ran over Aissa. They darkened with displeasure, when they settled upon me. 

The third man was a youth about the same age as Aissa. His eyes were a grayish green, while his hair was a sandy blonde. He wore a red tunic, which was as threadbare as Deidamia’s gown, or Lycomedes’ robes. His slim, wiry build spoke of hours of swordplay, while his slim, graceful hands spoke of deftness with dice. If the second man was offering Aissa hungry looks, the third man stared at him, as if he longed to bind him with chain of gold, locking him in a temple, where no one could touch him. The yearning turned his eyes a smoky jade, as they feasted upon her face, her lips, and her hands. 

I saw Aissa’s lips move, shaping a name. Patrocles. I glanced at the young man, who nodded, ever so slightly at the ‘lady’. 

Me Me Me Monday

It's Me Me Me Monday! A day to celebrate, post, and promote one's Me-ness! Alas, this Cauldron can't participate or associate with Queer Sci Fi on Facebook anymore, because of Facebook's cruel and unjust block. (I can't believe this Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration has been judged, condemned, and blocked by Facebook, considering some of what's allowed! Sheesh! I'm not sure whether to be offended or honored to be so singled out!) This Cauldron will continue to post on Me Me Me Monday on its own, though. Even though it uses cookies, which I don't quite understand, but I need to warn readers about. Especially if they live in the U.K. Consider yourself warned.

Today, we're going to share a little of 'Aissa and Polyxena', my m/m mythical tale. One of my New Year's resolutions is to finish this and submit it to Dreamspinner Press. Wish me luck in doing so!

“What can I do?” I asked. “Helenus believed that as long as survived, Troy would live.” I swallowed the lump, forced it back down. “Besides, Achille swore he’d cross blades with me, before anyone else, including Hector.” I raised a hand to clasp Ganymede’s hand. It was smaller and cooler than my own. “Achille wouldn’t break his promise.”

“Not lightly, no,” Ganymede said. He released my hand. “For Patrocles’s sake, he would.” Tears were forming in the former prince’s liquid dark eyes. “Patrocles is doomed to die tomorrow by your brother’s hand.”

Saturday Snippet

It's Rainbow Snippets time! Alas, this Cauldron can no longer participate officially, since it's being blocked on Facebook. I'm hoping it'll be able to take part in QueerBlogWed. However, it would like to offer up a snippet. One that's a little longer than six sentences.

Here's a teaser for 'Waiting for Rebirth'. One of my things to do for 2017 is to clean this story up and post the whole thing at inspirationcauldron.wordpress.com. It's the first of the 'Tales From the Navel/The Shadow Forest', a prelude for all my other novels in that universe.

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The first thing I remember was darkness, It howled and swallowed everything for longer that I can tell, until the light came. It split the shadows, sent them scurrying away. 

A young man stood in the very center of the light. He captured my attention the way nothing had in a long time. He extended his gleaming white hand towards…me?

Yes, me. There was a me in the darkness, shivering in the light. Shivering at the sight of those pale, slender fingers.  

“It’s all right,” the young man said. “This is your rebirth, Christopher.”

Paula's Prompt

Here's my response to another Wednesday prompt from the amazing #PTWyant! To see her prompt, go to ptwyant.com. It involves a return, an encounter with a former friend, and a single snowflake.

Thank you, PTWyant, for giving me such excellent material for the April flash fiction challenge coming to Queer Sci Fi! I'm only posting a teaser here, since I'm submitting the entire story to that challenge, which I'm hoping they'll accept. (crosses fingers) Here's a taste of 'The Dark Lord's Heart', the story I wrote. Thank you so very much for inspiring me with your prompt to create this story!

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The dark lord appeared at the gate of the wizard’s cottage. This time, he didn’t bring his hobgobin army of twisted, lost desires, or his spectral minions to bring their shadow of despair on the rolling, green hills. 

Neither of these had ever moved the wizard, even though the dark lord had brought them chiefly to impress him.