Sins Of The Sire

Here’s an extended snippet from my Rainbow of yesterday–from Ninian’s memory palace–this is medieval Ireland, and certain sexual practices were, shall we say, not looked upon kindly–Ninian’s so-called friends have just finished cutting his hair and his beard to punish and shame him.man-silhouette

“I reckon that’s good enough for the likes of ya.” Rónán wipes off his knife on the side of his trews, then gestures to Cathal and Bran, who come up on either side of me and roughly jerk me up so I’m on my feet. He takes his ham-handed fist and grabs me by my collar, yanking my léine right down the middle, then doing the same to my trews. He strips me of my brat, my first large one.

I’d only earned it yesterday.

Rónán throws it over his head and shoulders like a shawl, prancing around playing a maiden trying to catch a young man’s eye, and the others can’t help but laugh.

“Oh look at me, I’m a lady I am, care to take me behind the bushes?” he minces, pitching his voice like a shrew. He thinks he’s funny, but I merely stand with my newly shorn head bowed, my eyes lowered as I try to hold my tattered garments together. Revenge will come in its own time.

They all approach me and start pushing, shoving, making me stumble as we all near the edge of the clearing. With one last giant push, Rónán sends me to my knees in the darkness outside the circle of trees.

“Go on now, get yer buggered ass gone,” he yells. “If we see ya again, we’ll kill ya, and your Ruathal won’t be able to save ya, ‘cause we’ll kill him too!”

Laughing, they leave the clearing on the opposite side.

When I’m alone for certain, I pick myself up, rubbing my hands over my head and face, then stumble down the path in the general direction of Ruathal’s cottage—

–finally letting the tears come.

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Ninian’s past

Getting motivated to work on my WIP–here is a glimpse of Ninian’s memory palace from sins Of The Sire, in which he has just had his hair and beard cut and been cast out for being a sodomite–
ps: Ruathal is Ninian’s master mage and his teacher–

They all approach me and start pushing, shoving, making me stumble as we all near the edge of the clearing. With one last giant push, Rónán sends me to my knees in the darkness outside the circle of trees.

“Go on now, get yer buggered ass gone,” he yells. “If we see ya again, we’ll kill ya, and your Ruathal won’t be able to save ya, ‘cause we’ll kill him too!”

Laughing, they leave the clearing on the opposite side.

When I’m alone for certain, I pick myself up, rubbing my hands over my head and face, then stumble down the path in the general direction of Ruathal’s cottage—

–finally letting the tears come.

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Jeffrey’s Pain

Here’s a snippet from Heart’s Embers, as Jeffrey is  with his old college roommate and Bruce’s ER doctor–and no, they weren’t driving–

“My God, El, he—he’s going to be devastated,” Jeffrey murmured, looking at El with anguished eyes.

El nodded.

“He’ll get through it though, Jeffrey, he will,” El said. “You will too.” He touched Jeffrey’s arm.

“I have to get back, are—you going to be okay?”

Jeffrey shivered, then nodded.

“I’ll walk you out, I have to go sign those papers at the desk, then I guess I’ll come in here and drink some of that swill they call coffee.” He stopped, blinking.

“Bruce makes the best coffee.”

El watched then as Jeffrey’s face sagged and fell apart with grief.

“El, I—I love him so much, it was my fault, I was talking dirty to him over the phone, I-” He grabbed his friend, hanging on, and buried his face in El’s shoulder as he sobbed.

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Carl

Here’s a little snippet from Carl’s appearance on Craig’s talk show–and a small run-in with an audience member–

“Let’s see your teeth!”    A huge burst of laughter erupted, and the edges of Craig’s lips quirked as if to suppress a smile.

Carl gave a sniff and raised one of his eyebrows, looking at the woman in the front row who had yelled.

“I am not a horse, Madame,” he said, using a quiet, threatening tone. “If I showed them to you, I would have to kill you.”   Laughter erupted, and Craig grinned as he turned to look at Carl.

Carl wasn’t smiling.

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Thomas

animated-dripping-pouring-and-splashing-blood-against-transparent-background-in-slow-motion-5b-alpha-channel-embedded-with-hd-png-file_ekvogdwbz__S0000This little snippet is from Las Vegas Circle, in which Thomas is still discovering his powers, and he uses them to get under his bigot bosses’ skin–

“That’s odd,” he said to himself. He gazed down the street toward Frank’s office, and the air around him seemed to—stretch, there was no other word for it. He had no sense of movement, of actually walking the short distance to the sheriff’s office, but—here he was, standing right there. Not just standing out in front of the old weatherbeaten door, but—inside.

Standing right in front of Frank’s desk.

Thomas really tried to keep the look of amusement off his face as he watched Frank glance up from his paperwork and scoot halfway to the hallway leading to the jail cells, apparently forgetting he had received a chair with wheels a few days ago when the train delivered it.

“FUCK!” Frank cursed, trying to slow his breathing. “How did you get in here without me hearing you, damn it?” He used his heels to scoot back to the desk and salvaged as much of his dignity as he could.

“I guess it’s just my inscrutable red man image, Frank,” Thomas answered, laughing. He clasped his hands in front of him, waiting.

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Mike and Craig

This is a snippet from Talk Of The Town, where Craig’s jerk boyfriend catches Craig and Carl returning from coffee–be careful, Mike–

Cringing, he started to touch Mike’s arm, but Mike grabbed Craig‘s hand, twisting it.  Craig gave a sharp intake of breath, not wanting Carl to hear him cry out.  The sounds of the coffee maker were suddenly loud in Craig‘s ears,  Mike’s whispering, menacing voice mixing with the gurgles and fragrant hisses.

“Bullshit, Craig.  You didn’t miss me for shit. Arm in arm with your ‘guest’?  What else was he touching you with?”

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Carl

As promised, here’s a little of what went before my Rainbow Snippet of yesterday–poor Carl’s trolling for his supper–

“You cold, mister?  Where’s your coat?”

Startled, Carl turned his head.  A young girl was looking up at him.  She looked to be no more than seventeen.  Her dirty blonde hair hung about her face, and her threadbare jacket was ripped in places, showing the puffy lining.   He smiled.

“No, I’m not cold, dear.”  He looked closer.  “What are you doing out this early?”

“Oh, I’m outdoors for awhile, just until my mom gets her shit together and I can go back, those foster homes are crap, you know?”  She got a sly look in her eyes, one that Carl had seen many times before.   “Say, you got any spare cash you could give me, you know, just until I can get somethin’ together?  I–I’d be willing to, you know, treat you right, mister.”  She put her hand on Carl’s arm and he grasped her wrist, stopping her from going further.  That was to be for Craig and no one else, not even his victims.

“That sounds delightful, sweetheart.  Perhaps we could keep each other warm.”  He usually pleasured them, heating their blood, but he had lost all desire to do this as well.  Again, he saved himself for Craig.   “Let’s duck into your alley here and I’ll show you.  It won’t take long, and I’ll make it worth your while.”  As they entered the alley, he removed his sunglasses, putting them in his pocket.

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