Heart’s Embers

Here’s a snippet from the followup to The Ancient. In this one, the guys have been out celebrating after Bruce received his doctorate, and he’s just a little too happy–

“I am perfectly capable of getting myself to bed, you know,” Bruce said, enunciating each word.  “I—am a doctor.”

Jeffrey smiled at Bruce’s drunken, stately dignity.

“And you’re both going to drink my hangover remedy with no arguments, right?”

Bruce gave a small shudder.

“If I have to,” he said. “But I’d rather not hurl on your lap.”  He wiggled his eyebrows, wearing a wicked look in those baby blues.

“I can think of better things to do with your lap.”

Shaking his head at his husband and lover, Jeffrey turned to Dane.

“And how about—-Dane?”  Dane was leaning back on the couch, his head thrown back and mouth open. He was out cold.Two Glasses of Red Wine Abstract Heart Splash

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Talk Show

Here’s a snippet from the start of Talk Of The Town, in which Craig is filming his show–if you’ve ever been stuck at home watching those Springeresque episodes, you ‘ll be able to relate 🙂

The disheveled lady with her large stomach overflowing her sweatpants screamed at the top of her lungs, spittle flying out of her mouth in strings, her hair like snakes.  A veritable Medusa. She rushed her skeletal soon to be ex-husband on the other side of the stage, he of the baggy t-shirt with stiff armpits and tobacco stains, all sunken cheeks, pasty bad skin, and a mullet and moustache straight out of 1976.  On the way, she pushed Craig aside and his arm brushed her, making one of her pendulous breasts escape the armhole of her oversized tank top.  Everyone in the audience, including the crew, saw a flat puckered nipple with one single coarse black hair on the outskirts of her areola bobbing like Mitch Miller conducting an orchestra. Follow the bouncing boob, so to speak.

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Jules

For my snippet this Sunday, I give you a passage from The Ancient, in which Jules is snooping in Bruce’s memory box — and finds something quite private–

She took a small red envelope out of the pile, with one single sheet of stationery inside. There was one paragraph written on it, single spaced in pen.  As she opened it, she caught a faint whiff of old roses.   As she read it, she felt like she was peeking in a private, intimate moment, even though she was Bruce’s wife, even though she was married to him–

 

“Bruce, my beloved–

Love with you was everything I thought it would be and more.  I think of you touching me, putting your hands on me, your mouth on me, and I know I could never get enough of you. Did I make you feel the same? And when I made love to you, I found myself whirling in an explosion, a firestorm of feeling. There was nothing else in my universe but you. I loved the feel of your breath on my chest as we held each other after, your soft curls on my skin as I breathed in your scent. The second time, I laid my head on your chest after you were so gentle with me knowing it was my first time receiving, your first time giving. I felt the gentle rise and fall of your chest, felt the rhythm of your body speaking to me. Your eyes burning into me spoke volumes, and I long to know your heart. As for mine, it has become undone. No one else could ever have a chance of making me feel the way that you do. I want to wake in your arms, then hold you as you sleep every night, every morning until we cease to be. Through time and space, my soul is yours, my love. I need to be with you again like I need to breathe.  I love you. Only you, forever.

 

Your Jeffrey, always”

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Carl

In response to last week’s snippet, here is what Carl tells Craig about himself; he doesn’t want Craig to enter into anything unaware– he cares for him ❤

.  “Craig, my dear, I treasure you.  But do not be mistaken.  I am a vampire, a literal cold blooded killer. Over my lifetime, I have murdered more people than the ages of your father, mother, grandfather, great grandfather and even further into your history put together, and not all of them were for feeding purposes. It is in me to be many times worse than Mike would ever dream of being, but not to you, my love.  Never to you.”

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More Arthur

Here’s another snippet from Crimson Christmas following up on my last one, where we see Arthur’s visit to the Victorian Village 🙂

The taxi drops us off on a nearby curb, and we step into—a version of Dante’s Inferno.

Goggling, camera clad tourists are mixing with Victorian ladies and gentlemen dressed much like myself, albeit more cheaply. I remove my sunglasses reluctantly as Mimsy opens the taxi door for me, then leans over to pay the driver. As I follow the vehicle’s progress down the street with longing, Mimsy takes my elbow and steers me toward a small alcove concealing a door with “Employee Entrance” inscribed thereon. People are swiveling their heads to stare at me, and more than one of them holds up their ubiquitous smartphones to snap a picture. Little do they know it will never show a thing.

“This is insane,” she mumbles. “I didn’t think it would be this crowded.” We stop and I stand in front of her, wearing my usual put upon expression on my face.

“I’ll text you as soon as I know when my jailers are letting me go, Mimsy, all right?”

She nodded as I opened the door.

“Just wait until you’re in the employee lounge or wherever they have you wait; I doubt that they’ll let you use phones in front of the customers, you know, just so they can preserve the illusion.”

“SHUT IT, YA DAFT BUGGERS!”

 

Craig and Carl

For my snippet this week, I’m revisiting Talk Of The Town–this is the moment where Carl explains about himself, and what he can do–and what he won’t.

“I would pleasure you because I want to make you happy, and doing that makes me so as well.  But even as sensual and wonderful as that might be, it would be a very, very small portion of what we would have when we are the same.”  He squeezed Craig’s shoulders.

“I will not take you by force. I will not.”

Carl released him and slid away from him, trying to hold on to what little amount of control he had left.

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Crimson Christmas

Since decorations and merchandise are appearing–scandalously, I might add, in the stores, I thought I’d post another  little snippet from my Christmas vampire novella. In this one, Arthur is being talked into working at a Victorian Christmas Village by his persistent assistant, and he’s trying on his old outfit–

“Oh, Arthur, you look—wonderful.”

I preen just a little as I turn round for her inspection.

“So, I must say they did take proper care of the fabric, Mimsy, did they not?” I tell her. “Who did you get this time?” I say as I tie my cravat in a perfect four-in-hand around my starched white shirt collar.

“Henson Restorative Fabrics was the name,” she answers. “They were the only ones that would do it after I tried three other dry cleaners; the last one recognized the outfit for what it was and wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

“Did they have any trouble with the fall front trousers?”

“Not at all,” she says. “I told them to take extra care with the buttons, as per your instructions.” She gives a little twist to my waistcoat and straightens the shoulders on my frockcoat, then reaches for the hatbox. I of course watch her carefully as she opens it, lifting out the black beaver hat with gloved hands. They only tremble a little. I gently take it from her and settle it square on top of my blonde head and I give a little frisson of satisfaction, my lips parting. This is exactly why I don’t like to put these clothes on. They remind me too much of what I’ve lost.

 

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