J. Alan Veerkamp's Blog, page 15

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 14

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “crucifix, passive, and hand.”

Rother and Nathan are finally alone.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 14

The bedroom door closing behind us jolted me. My pulse quickened and I couldn’t stop from straightening my jacket needlessly.

With a turn of a handle along the wall, Rother ignited the gaslight fireplace along with a series of sconces. Pulling a hanging chain closed the window shutters, blocking out the waning daylight, allowing an ambient glow to suffuse the room.

There was no questioning Rother’s intentions. He prowled about the room, his hungry gaze never wavering away from me for long. By law, as the elder member of our marriage, it was his prerogative to decide when to consummate. My purity’s expiration moved closer with each tick of the second hand. Excited and terrified, my heartbeat attempted to rattle out of my chest with its ferocity. In some sad attempt to distract myself, I examined the room.

Rich fabrics, overstuffed cushions and pillows, lush carpet and rugs: everything about the house was comfort to the point of decadence. A bed large enough for a group of men dominated the main wall, mounds of pillows piled above the plump duvet. Everything looked clean and untouched. Samantha’s influence, perhaps? A sumptuous chaise lounge and writing desk filled the spaces not playing home to the requisite wardrobe and side tables. Through a pair of open doors laced with windows, the lavish en suite could be seen.

“All this traveling has left me feeling unclean,” Rother said. “I believe a bath would be in order.”

I shuddered at the innocent suggestion laced with innuendo. “A… an excellent idea. I’ll call for Harston to prepare—”

My words failed me as Rother stepped in close, our chests nearly brushing one another. He stroked along my shoulder and grazed my lapel with his fingertips as he wet his lips.

“You won’t be needing Harston for anything tonight.”

Leashing my panic was a task. My anxiety held me tight like a criminal waiting to be nailed to a crucifix. In Victorian society, a parent typically discussed what their wedded child would face in the bedroom. It was the only appropriate time for intimate education. My parents had glossed over any such instruction, so all my knowledge was based on rumor and gossip, which left me feeling woefully inadequate.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Rother whispered as he slid my jacket off my shoulders. “I want tonight to be something special for us both.”

I stood passive as my husband slowly dismantled my waistcoat, sweeping his fingertips along my sides as he skimmed back the fabric. Unfamiliar surges warmed my skin with each contact. With utter patience, he removed each layer, showing great competence in unfastening the more complicated items within my wardrobe. Rother’s skill seemed matched with his ability to entice and unnerve me. The process to divest a man of his Victorian fashion was time consuming, yet Rother never lost interest or mocked me.

Once stripped of my shirt and left bare chested, he paused. Rother’s breathing deepened as he grazed his knuckles over my exposed skin and nipple. A shiver raced down my spine at the sensation. He trailed his touch down my stomach, following the contours until he dipped his fingers underneath my waistline. With an adept grip, he took apart the clasp of my trousers.

Like the rest of my clothing, they too were added to the growing pile on the floor. Rother continued, dropping down to remove my stockings as well until I stood vulnerable before him, clad only in the chastity belt; the mark of my honor. I was acutely aware how our state of dress was unequal. He had yet to remove any article of his own.

Kneeling before me, Rother reached into his pocket and produced the key. He must have retrieved it from Harston who held it during our time on the airship. It was within my power to remove the belt during our travels, but I’d resisted the temptation. Rother called me a delicious prize, and with all the insanity leading up to this moment, I needed to feel like a gift to be unwrapped.

I froze, anticipation halting any chance of speech. With a simple turn and a quiet snick, the lock disengaged. Rother separated the belt and drew it down my thighs until he could help me step free of the loathsome thing. I gasped at the air touching all of my skin at once; I struggled to resist covering myself. With dreamy eyes, Rother became the only person to ever see me this way since I was an infant. I held my breath, praying for his approval.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. Since the day I stood before the Monarch, I hadn’t believed that word aimed at me. Tonight, it took on new meaning. Rother rose and held out his hand as he shifted backwards, a silent plea to lead me towards the bathtub.

“One moment,” I said. Collecting the stone paperweight from the writing desk, I walked to the discarded belt on the floor. Ignoring my state of undress, I knelt before the hated thing and without a sound, hammered the filthy garment with five years of rage and frustration powering my hand. By the time I tired, the delicate metal and gears were a twisted snarl of useless material. Setting down the paperweight, I stood with what was left of the belt in my hand. Every ounce of metal was flattened into an unrecognizable mass.

A sense of calm blanketed me as I tossed the mangled remnants into the fireplace. Rother watched without a word, waiting.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

“Do you ever plan on putting another one of those on me again?”

“No. You’re far more tempting without it.” The heat behind his statement was not patronizing in the least. It matched the temperature of his stare roaming over my unclothed body. I couldn’t prevent the blush, but there was far less fear behind it.

I stepped forward and took my husband’s offered hand. “I’m ready for my bath now.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Another step has been achieved for the next release!!!

Excellent! Everything is on schedule…

I just received the second round of edits on A Cook’s Tale, the next story in the Ship Logs of the Santa Claus series, by Wayward Ink Publishing. I’m so thrilled with this one, you just don’t know. We’re hoping for a late fall release, so stay tuned for more specific developments.

There’s still work to do… I haven’t finished the cover art yet! So you’ll have to wait for the cover reveal. You won’t be disappointed!

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 13

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “Keep your tongue in your mouth, where it belongs.”

Rother introduces Nathan to some of Delaga House’s staff.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 13

“If I were getting married, I would be away for a lot longer.”

Striding towards us was a striking vision of female beauty. Mocha skin contrasted the vermillion tresses spilling over her shoulders, framing a pair of intense eyes and full lips. I needed to tip my head upwards; it was the only way I could look her eye to eye. Her midnight blue dress was simple yet tailored to fit, and accented her every curve, including her cleavage. The snug bodice held together by buckles and straps rather than the usual buttons. Confident steps drew her closer to us, and I found myself fascinated, hypnotized by the rythymic click of her heels on the floor. I imagined this was a typical reaction around her.

“But then I’d miss your shining face, my dear.” Hand outstretched, Rother motioned towards her. “Nathan, this is my head of house, Samantha.”

I nodded. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Welcome to Delaga House, Nathan.” She reached up and stroked aside a lock of my hair. “I see Rother has excellent taste, as usual.”

“Thank you. May I call you, Samantha?” Trying to take on the more casual nature of Francine life, I decided to not ask for her surname.

A brilliant grin brightened her face. “That would be perfect.”

“Head of house?” I took note of her manicured fingernails. “You don’t strike me as a housekeeper.”

“I’m not. I make sure everything in Delaga House functions as expected.”

“If this house were theatre, Samantha would be its director,” Rother said.

“I’ll make a point to remember that,” I said.

Subtle creases marked the corners of Samantha’s eyes as she smiled. While she may not have been an adolescent goddess, her beauty defied her age. “I like him, Rother.”

A shrill, cry interrupted us.

“Rother! You’re home already!”

“I’d never be gone for too long, Vivian,” Rother said.

A waif with curly blond locks bounded into the room. Full of energy, I had the feeling she might have pounced on Rother had Samantha not laid a hand on her shoulder as she approached, halting her progress.

Vivian pouted. “It’s never the same around here when you’re gone.”

“I would hope not,” Rother said, chuckling.

“Am I still your best girl?”

“Always.”

Her playfulness, like her implied youth—she was nowhere near as young as she portrayed herself—somehow reminded me of my mother’s affectations. A touch too insistent, an air of insincerity hovered about her.

I worked to stay cordial. It was too soon to make a proper judgement about anyone. Vivian’s uniform marked her as a maid, but there was so little of it. The sight of her bare legs disconcerted me, but no one else seemed offended by Vivian’s attire, so I tried to hide my reaction. Although, given how her expression soured as she caught my eye, I’d done a rather poor job of it.

Her childish bearing evaporated. Vivian sauntered forward into Rother’s personal space and began fondling the edge of his lapel. Her voice deepened into something altogether inappropriate and pressed herself against him in a way noble women did not. “Your new husband’s very pretty, but it’s hard to believe you went to all the trouble of marrying him.”

“Vivian…,” Samantha said with an air of caution.

Heedless, Vivian continued. “Tell me Rother. Who will entertain you when you get bored of your new little toy, like all the rest?”

I startled at Vivian’s yelp as Rother snatched her head by the chin. Lifted to her toes, his fingers dug into her jaw. Her tiny hands scratched at his, as her hissing mouth pursed and distorted under the pressure.

Rother’s words came with calm venom. “Keep your tongue in your mouth, where it belongs.”

Jarred silent, I stood perfectly still, unsure of what to do. Vivian snarled back at my husband until she whimpered under his grip. Only then did he release her.

“I suggest you mind your manners in the future,” Rother said.

Vivian’s cheeks were flushed as she shook. The moment she noticed me watching, her glistening eyes narrowed and she advanced on me.

“You think you’re so much better than us—”

A wall in the form of Blythe appeared between us, bumping her backwards with his mass. “Push off. Go find a knob somewhere to polish. It’s what you’re paid for.”

After staring up at him for a moment, Vivian turned and stormed out the door. I blinked, unable to fathom Blythe’s interference given his crass display earlier.

Rother placed a hand on my lower back. “Forgive me, Nathan. That was not the homecoming I’d planned for you.” Rother turned to Samantha. “Did you make the preparations to my suite I asked?”

“Excuse me?” Samantha crossed her arms over her ample breasts as her brow arched.

Rother snorted. “Of course you did.”

“Thank you for remembering. You’ll excuse me while I have a chat with our wayward maid.”

Samantha left the room, the sharp, purposeful click of her heels could be heard long after.

“Blythe, help Harston get settled in. Nathan and I are not to be disturbed.”

Hand still at my back, Rother led me through the rear foyer, and a well equipped kitchen. I saw a few people I assumed were more staff members, men and women, but he steered us clear of them, declining introductions. It made me wonder if dramatic outbursts were common among the employees here in Francine. Not wanting to invite servant’s gossip, I waited until we were well clear of them all before speaking.

“Why in the world would you keep such an awful woman on staff?”

At the end of hall, we were graced by a wide stairwell. It reminded me of the private servant’s entrance my brothers and I used to keep from being seen by our parents.

“Because in spite of her sharp tongue, she’s one of my best employees. But let’s not dwell on unpleasant things. I would finally see my husband upstairs. Alone.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 12

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “You’re mine, and you’d better not forget it.” and a photo of a carriage.

The men ride together on the way home.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 12

“Must be difficult, you having to sit with the servants. First in the cafe, and now on the ride home.”

Blythe’s taunting smirk matched the looks he’d given me the entire time we spent in the restaurant. The carriage Rother hired was smaller than the coach in Victoria, almost an uncovered wagon with plush seating. With the tighter streets in Francine, a larger vehicle would be unwieldy. The driver’s seat fit only one man, so Blythe and Harston sat across from me with Rother at my side.

The social hierarchy here would take some time to adapt to, but Blythe’s goading tempted me to slap the grin off his face. With a mallet.

“It’s not something I grew up with, but I’m learning to adjust. My man is not impolite company.”

Blythe turned to Harston. “So, boy—”

“His name is Harston,” I said.

Blythe raised an eyebrow as he began again. “So, Harston, what do you do for our Nathan?”

“I am his valet. I attend to dressing him and whatever personal needs he requires.” Harston sat upright and spoke with pride, yet I detected a soft tremor in his voice. Not surprising, Blythe intimidated him.

“Harston has been my right hand for years,” I said.

“You dress and undress our pretty young lord?” A lewd smile spread over Blythe’s lips. “Oh, now that’s a right picture. How does one such as myself procure such a fortunate position?”

“One such as yourself does not.”

Ignoring me, Blythe leaned closer to Harston and lowered his voice a notch. “Have the two of you ever taken advantage of the arrangement?”

“I don’t understand,” Harston said.

“With all these private moments, you’ve never played with one another? I know what Rother asked for in a husband, but what about you, Harston? Any inappropriate requests from your young master? Any diddling before high tea?”

Harston’s eyes went wide, aghast at the suggestion. “O… of course not!”

“I’ve never done anything of the sort!” I snarled.

Blythe shrugged in a mock show of remorse. “Just thought I’d ask.” He leaned back and spread his massive arms along the back of the seat.

Rother chuckled softly as he spoke. “Have a care, Blythe. Nathan’s brother teased him in a similar manner before dinner and Nathan nearly tore off his balls with his bare hands. In front of his shocked mother, no less.”

“Finn deserved it,” I said.

“Oh yes he did.” Rother seemed far too amused at the memory.

Blythe cupped his groin in his huge hand. “He wouldn’t be the first young man to give my boys a rough handling.”

“Are you going to sit here and let your servant talk to me this way?” The satisfied smile on Blythe’s face flattened at my response. My annoyance was somewhat soothed by the sight.

Rother reached up and feathered his hand near my temple. “Blythe is needling you for effect. And you are giving him exactly the reaction he’s after. He knows his boundaries and would ultimately never cross the man who pays his healthy wage. Allowing him to speak his mind does not lessen my contract with you.” Rother’s tone took on a husky edge. “You’re mine, and you’d better not forget it.”

Something about Rother’s possessive declaration disarmed me. The men’s bawdy humor was something I needed to learn to find a kind of comfort in, if I would survive among them. Their coarse behavior rattled me, but I’d endured my brother’s slights for years. This was no worse in its own way. I wasn’t about to be Blythe’s victim for the rest of his employment—however long that may be. If he didn’t learn to mind his manners, my spousal privilege would be used to cut it short.

I leaned into Rother and brushed my fingers along his chest. “Is there any chance we can leash him and have him dragged behind the carriage?” My husband growled in approval.

“Oy!” Blythe protested. “That’s cheating!”

My face heated anxiously. Having no experience at seductive behavior, I wasn’t sure Rother would respond. I could have easily made a fool of myself, but I proved to have some innate skill.

“It’s tempting, my husband.” Rother gave a feral grin to Blythe, his eyes twinkling with malice. “My man shirtless and manacled would be a prime entertainment. It would, however, be a waste of time, because we’ve already arrived.”

The relentless vibration from the uneven street shifted as we turned. Pulling through a high iron gate, the carriage approached a four-story sanguine painted house with white trim, black shutters and rooftop. Balconies adorned the higher floors, looking out over the street. It lacked the grandeur I’d grow up with, in spite of how well crafted it appeared, but given the density, size, and facades the rest of the city buildings sported, it stood well above all the rest.

The wheels gave a pleasant crunching on the paver stones as we followed the driveway around the side to the rear of the building.

“We have a private garden and entrance at the rear, away from prying eyes,” Rother said.

A lovely little sunporch faced the lush garden behind the house. I could imagine a morning cup of tea surrounded by the fragrant flowers, hidden from the public. Once the carriage came to a stop, I couldn’t stop staring.

Blythe slapped Harston on the shoulder. “C’mon, boy. Let’s gather the luggage and get it indoors.” The carriage lurched as they jumped overboard.

“What do you think?” Rother asked. The pride in his home couldn’t be mistaken. He wanted me to love it as much as he did. However, I’d learned a lesson of how men of Francine treated one another this afternoon.

I grinned, giving Rother an obvious and deliberate teasing. “I suppose it will have to do.”

Rother barked a laugh, clearly amused. “Come along, my husband.” He stood, taking my hand. “It’s time to go inside and meet the staff.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 11

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “Be careful before you fall!”

Nathan gets his first taste of life in Francine.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 11

I welcomed Rother’s decision to stop for lunch. Strung tight as a clock spring, I’d barely eaten in the last two days. My appetite couldn’t hold out much longer.

The cafe was charming if not the most meticulous. The decor was dark and sumptuous yet strangely lived in. All the wrought iron and stone sported flaws softened by lush fabrics. It lacked the grandeur I was accustomed—it was hardly a luncheon at high court—but Rother sat back in total comfort. While he had chosen a private table for two, I found it disconcerting with Blythe and Harston at a separate table in the main dining room, eating with all of us. Such a thing would be unheard of at home, yet no one objected here. I felt very out of place in this rustic environment.

“Francine is a lovely town, no?” he asked.

Even through the picture window’s flawed glass I had a clear view of the city. Located along the sea, Francine was a destination for businessmen and travelers alike. The deeper into the city we went, the more varied the population. The same menagerie of merchants to businessmen to pedestrians walked the street as I would find in Victoria.

I found it garish as one man dressed in a waistcoat and bowler shouted in greeting to another across the street, waving wildly. Neither man appeared dirty or uneducated. No other passerby noticed or seemed to care.

AT another moment, Blythe interjected himself between us and a panhandler who, I was told, wasn’t actually poor.

As odd and varied as the people were, there was a vibrancy about them, something missing from my homeland. They moved with a swagger, spoke with laughter, and carried themselves with vigor and life. My fine clothing in dull earth tones seemed dour in comparison.

“It certainly is colorful.”

“Is that a positive reaction?”

I left my window view of the street and faced my husband. Relaxed and handsome, he looked at home with his top hat resting on the table. “I hope so.”

“Once you learn to relax, you’ll embrace the differences. Lean back in your chair already. You look uncomfortable.”

Sitting upright, my back did not touch the splat of my seat. My learned posture was considered a mark of breeding and manners. Slouching in a chair marked a man of laziness, something forbidden to me as long as I could remember. Although, Rother wasn’t mannerless. In fact, he held himself quite well, but lacked the refinement Victorian society held in high regard. It’s why my father’s acceptance shocked me.

“It will require more than one full day as your spouse to unlearn a lifetime of manners. You could stand to meet me somewhere in between.”

A wicked gleam sparked Rother’s eye. “Am I too coarse for your prim standards?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Rother scraped his chair backwards and stood up high on the seat. The other patrons all looked our way as he clasped his hands over his heart.

“Oh pray tell I should confess to these fine folk my husband finds me a vulgar boor!”

“Rother, stop!” I hissed. “Everyone is staring!”

“Whatever shall I do? However shall I survive?” He projected his voice as he began gesturing with all the dramatic flourish of an amateur thespian. The chair legs titled and clapped on the floor as his weight shifted back and forth. I wanted to grab his arms and drag him down to earth.

“Be careful before you fall!”

As much as I hated being mocked, the spectacle I foresaw was much worse. Rother bounced to the floor, leaning over the table with his hands poised before me. With a rakish smile, his voice darkened.

“You’re the only one about to fall, my dear.”

Chuckles of the other diners softened into nothing as he righted himself in his chair. I flitted my gaze around and everyone went back to their meals, as we were no longer of interest. Once again, my face flamed in his presence. If I didn’t learn to control my reactions, it would be a difficult marriage indeed.

“A little discretion would be in order, I think.” Unlike my husband, I lowered my voice so only he and I could hear.

“About what?”

“You’re shouting out about our marriage—”

“You’re not in Victoria anymore. No one cares about the betrothal of men here.”

I resisted the urge to look around. “You’re sure?”

“Passion is the basic tenet of Francine. Enjoy what the world has to offer. While we may not be obsessed with precision aesthetics as in Victoria, we understand the pleasure involved in all things. Our styles are looser, but no less beautiful. If it’s not enjoyable, why waste your time with it?”

I imagined an entire country of men and women acting out their every whim without strict rules of decorum to follow. How could anything but chaos be the result?

“It sounds like a recipe for hedonism.”

Rother chuckled. “From your viewpoint, I imagine it does.”

I didn’t have time to answer as the portly woman who served us returned with our lunch, carrying an overloaded tray on one hand. After setting a steaming bowl in front of each of us, she placed a small basket of dense bread and a carafe of wine on the table.

The stew looked hearty in its simple crafted bowl and I tried to ignore the scuffs and scratches on the unpolished silverware. Rother wasted no time pouring us each a glass of red wine and dove into his meal.

“Go on. Eat,” he said with a mouthful of stew.

I stamped down my unease and dipped my spoon into my dish. The scent was bold and rich, unlike my usual fare. There was nothing offensive about the rough chunks of meat and potatoes on my utensil, so I risked a bite.

It was magnificent. I believed it was the best thing I’d ever tasted.

“Francine may grow on me yet.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 10

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompt, use “You do have the right to remain silent…”

Nathan has a serious talk with his husband.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 10

Drifting through the night sky from a vantage point I never imagined, the propellors were quieter than I’d expected. The chilled breeze caught my hair as I strained to see the darkened terrain in the distance. A stood at the bow with Harston at my side, unmoving after the sun disappeared.

“I assume your silence all day means you’re unhappy.”

I turned to find my husband. He seemed annoyed, which was understandable; I’d blatantly ignored him for most of the day. In the end, I didn’t care, because I had good cause.

“Harston, I’d like a private word with my husband.”

“Of course, Sir Nathan.”

With a polite nod and a fleeting glance at Rother, Harston left us alone. However, now that we only had our own company, I wasn’t sure what to say. Or if I should say anything.

“Are you planning on telling me what’s wrong?”

A frustrated vibration rang through me. “I’m trying to stay calm so I don’t have a repeat of earlier.”

“What happened earlier?”

“You’d know what I was talking about, if as soon as we arrived you hadn’t dashed off to board the ship, leaving me at the coach. On top of that, I was publicly humiliated by your brutish servant when I didn’t move fast enough for him.”

“Don’t let Blythe hear you call him a servant. He does many things for me, but he’s hardly my butler.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Unbelievable. You don’t even see my point.”

“We had a schedule to keep. We didn’t have time to spare.”

It was difficult to keep from raising my voice with the venom fueling it. “I’m being shoved around from place to place, not knowing a soul.”

“Which is why I agreed to Harston accompanying you.”

“He’s my valet. It’s not the same thing.”

“I don’t understand the problem.”

“My difficulties have nothing to do with Harston. I’ve just been married and am now being taken away to a foreign land without discussion. I’m doing my best to maintain myself, but when do you expect me to have a chance to adjust to this?”

Rother’s brow creased. “One would think you’d be happy to be away from your father.”

“I should be.” To make my point, I closed the gap between us so every enunciation would be felt on his face. “I would be… if I’d had a single choice in the matter. In the course of two days, you’ve swept in and upheaved me without so much as a ‘by your leave.’”

I subtle shift of understanding came over Rother as he stepped back. His shoulders dropped a fraction, which was probably the closest to chagrined I might ever see from the man. He averted his eyes as a tiny frown marred his lips.

“You do have the right to remain silent…”

“I think it’s a little late for that. You’re the one who asked what was wrong.” I felt better that I’d voiced my issues, but doing so ran against my grain. Some things were simply not done in public, even if I’d broken my own rules recently.

Rother sighed. “I suppose I did. I’ve been accused of being short sighted when I’m focused. Being driven in business is an asset to success, but perhaps less so in matrimony. We’ll be in Francine in the morning. Once we’re there, perhaps we’ll be able to start fresh.”

Given how self-involved Rother appeared to be, I imagined this was his version of an apology. Although I had to admit, a fresh start sounded good. Once in his homeland, I would hope he’d be more forthcoming and less distracted. Clearly, my homeland vexed him.

“Why do you hate Victoria so much?”

“I despise the class hierarchy your people cling to so tightly. Monarchs, Lords, and Ladies, all born to power as if it’s divine right. The people with the most, do the least to earn it.”

While I didn’t acknowledged his version of the truth, I was somewhat appalled. I was one of those people he gathered into his mass dismissal and I found myself reacting with sarcasm. “Next you’ll tell me you don’t don’t employ servants in Francine.”

“Of course we do. But we don’t base our social standing on it the way Victorian society does. A poor man isn’t forced to stay so forever. He has the opportunity to improve himself. This whole land leaves me with an unpleasant taste. I can’t leave fast enough.”

“If you’re in such a hurry to move forward, I’m surprised I’m still wearing my belt.”

A small grin curled his mouth and his eyes darkened. Rother stepped forward, crowding me as his words took a husky tenor.

“The belt intrigues me. It sharpens my anticipation. I want out first time together to be special. When I unwrap my prize, and make no mistake, you are the most delicious prize, I want you to enjoy yourself enough to want more.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I found myself flustered, as I often did when he advanced on me. It took all my self-control to center my breathing. For a man I barely knew, he was skilled at unsettling me in unfamiliar ways.

Rother’s heated breath singed my neck and ear. “Your deserve to have your first time to be a pleasurable exploration, not a painful fumbling in a nobleman’s coach to be tossed out afterwards with a handful of coins.”

The phrase struck me as odd. Confused, I leaned back so I could look into his eyes.

“What nobleman’s coach are you referring to?”

The lusty visage sobered, his whole expression blanked. Rother stepped out of my space and stood tall. It was ironic how his renewed stance was reminiscent of the Victorian nobles he scorned so openly.

“It’s getting late. I hope your private cabin is to your liking. I look forward to seeing you in the morning. Goodnight, Nathan.” Rother turned and walked away, leaving me alone once again.

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Lily G Blunt – Paint The Sky Audiobook!

Paint the Sky
Audiobook
by
Lily G Blunt

Narrated by Joel Leslie



 Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance
Listening Length: 6 hours and 4 minutes
Program Type: Audiobook
Version: Unabridged
Publisher: Lily G Blunt
Audible.co.uk Release Date: 3 Sept. 2015
Language: English



Audible.com / Audible UK / Amazon.com / Amazon UK / iTunes 

Not an Audible member?
If you sign up to Audible for at least two months and Paint the Sky is your first purchase
my narrator and I will receive a  bonus payment.
Currently you can receive one month’s membership with 1 FREE credit.

A love of art…

A mutual interest in art draws two shy university students together. Ben admires Vinnie’s painting of the university building, so Vinnie invites him to an exhibition of his artwork. From a wealthy family, Ben purchases some of Vinnie’s art and arranges for the artist to personally hang the paintings in his apartment.

Starry, starry night…

Ben commissions Vinnie to paint his portrait, in order to spend more time with the artist. On the night of the sitting, Vinnie fingerpaints the starry night on Ben’s chest… and they kiss. They begin a relationship beneath the night sky, God’s own canvas.

But every relationship has its ups and downs and so it is with theirs. When Ben thinks Vinnie spends too much time with a fellow artist, his jealousy drives a wedge between them and forces Vinnie into the very thing Ben dreads.

Hold tight to your dreams…

Ben and Vinnie will have to walk through fire before they can find one another again. But if they believe, and if they keep their faith in the night sky and each other, just maybe they can make their dreams of love come true.

LISTEN TO AN EXCERPT FROM THE AUDIOBOOK HERE

About the Audiobook Narrator

Joel Leslie was a pleasure to work with throughout.
I love his narration of my story and the way he brought the various characters to life.

Check out his others works here.
Audio Narration / Facebook  / Audible 

Vinnie led me across the room, pulling me by the shirt. “Lie back on the sofa for me and I’ll paint you.”

As if in a dream, I settled my head against one arm of the sofa, my legs dangling over the other end, scarcely breathing now. Vinnie knelt on the floor beside me with an open pot of paint in his hand.

Teasingly, he dipped his index finger into the dark blue paint as if it were cream he would lick off. His finger connected with my skin and he made short strokes across my chest, the coldness of the paint making me shiver.

Mesmerised by the closeness of his beautiful face, the view of the night sky through the window, and the picture forming upon my chest, I watched as dab after dab and stroke after stroke he built up a mix of shades, until a dark night sky with the moon and stars were there to be seen—a masterpiece, drying on the warmth of my blazing skin, a transient thing of beauty. His fingers skimmed my skin causing gooseflesh to ripple in waves down my arms and thighs. My nipples pebbled in response to his touch.

And when he was done, his lips met mine in a languid kiss; how our first kiss should have been—sweet, innocent, and full of promise. He pulled away, smiling down at me.

This was the beginning of something special.

 

ALSO AVAILABLE AS AN EBOOK AND IN PAPERBACK




Amazon.com / Amazon UK / ARe / PayHip





I’m offering a choice of either a signed paperback copy of Paint the Sky, an A5 or A6 notebook with a Paint the Sky cover to three lucky winners.

To enter the giveaway please comment on the post on Lily G Blunt’s blog saying which of the three gifts you would prefer.

Three winners will be randomly chosen on 3rd October when the
Paint the Sky Audiobook Blog Tour has finished.

ENTER THE GIVEAWAY HERE

Lily G. Blunt writes contemporary gay romance and erotica. She loves to explore the relationship between two men and the intensity of their physical and emotional attraction. Angst often features in her stories as she feels this demonstrates the depth of the men’s feelings for each other. Lily is forever writing imaginary scenes and plots in her head, but only a few ever make it to the page—there never seems to be enough hours in the day despite having left the teaching profession to concentrate on her writing!

Lily discovered the wonderful world of m/m romance novels five years ago via fan fiction and went on to write stories in her spare time. With the encouragement of her friends and readers she decided to publish some of her work. Lily subsequently self-published several stories via Amazon. She later published short stories with Torquere Press and Wayward Ink Publishing. Lily is excited about joining Pride Publishing for her upcoming story, The Handyman Can.
Easily distracted from her writing, Lily makes videos using clips from gay-themed movies and posts gorgeous pictures of men kissing or making out on her tumblr and Facebook pages. Lily is also an avid supporter of GLBTQ rights and advocates equality for all. She was recently a steward for Pride in London.
Lily lives in central England with her rather bemused husband and a ‘mad as a bag of frogs’ Shetland Sheepdog called Barney.



WordPress / Facebook Author Page / Tumblr /  YouTube / Twitter / Goodreads / Pinterest

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 9

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompts, use “Let’s play a game…”

Nathan has to make a final decision about his life.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 9

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Rother cried out as he stepped off the stagecoach, a childlike awe enveloping him. Several stories above us, the airship rested atop the shingled rooftop, accessed only from the iron stairwell attached to the side of the brick and mortar tower. Passengers mulled about the deck, waving to the people below. The ship itself was a mechanical dream. Held aloft by a canvas hot air balloon chained to the hull, a series of side fins and rear propellors provided thrust to the clockwork marvel. I’d seen the engine schematics in the past, and knew the intricacies of its construction.

Under normal circumstances I would be as fascinated as Rother.

As the cobblestones clicked under my boot, I realized this could be the last time I set foot in my homeland. Merchants plied their wares, and tipped their hats to our party as they passed. The smell of the city, a mix of unwashed youth and factory steam, connected me with the life and pulse of Victoria. I hadn’t been on this side of the city since I was a child. My brothers and I snuck away from our governess during a trip to quell our curiosity. We found the blacksmiths working alongside the clockworkists to forge a machine for the assembly line, and I sampled fresh peasant pastries for the first time. We suffered a harsh scolding when we returned, but we were staunch in our support of each other.

Those days when my family were happy seemed like ages ago.

“Blythe! Get us underway!” Rother shouted. “The ship is leaving in five minutes with or without us. I don’t want to spend one more minute in this damn country than I have to.”

Blythe’s voice held the urgency of a cracked whip. “All right! You heard the man! Move it!”

Harston jumped from the carriage and began hauling our luggage up the stairs with the aid of stewards from the ship company. They moved quickly, directed by Blythe as he paid the attendant for our tickets. Rother was nearly at the top already.

I couldn’t bring myself to step forward. My family, as awful as they could be, were all I knew, my privileged station all I knew how to be. And I was expected to abandon it all. Everything I knew was ghosting away whether I approved or not. I couldn’t help but grasp at the memories to gain some control over my life’s momentum.

A shadow loomed over me, and it turned out not to be my mood.

“You need help, Nathan?” Blythe asked.

Blocking the sun, my eyes were level with his swollen chest. The seams of his shirt and vest appeared ready to protest the stress on them. His graveled tenor matched the shaved head and coarse jaw he sported. A twisted scar ran up the left side of face, giving his rugged appearance a kind of permanent sneer. The tension in his stance screamed impatience, which didn’t help alleviate my anxiety.

Blythe pulled out his watch and snapped a quick view of the time. “Rother will have our heads if we miss this flight.”

I kept looking to the ship, to the carriage, to the city. My future was at a crux of choices and I couldn’t form a solid decision.

“I… I’ve never left Victoria before.”

“It’s a new adventure. Let’s go.”

I didn’t know how to express myself. Everything came out in a muddled stammer. “I can’t… I don’t… My family…”

Blythe’s shoulders sagged as he rolled his eyes under his heavy brow. “Fuckin’ hell. Tell you what. Let’s play a little game. You get up those stairs before time runs out. That’s the whole game.”

My father could only wish to possess the level of dominance Rother’s man exuded. But for all his strength, I found myself frozen, staring at the ship that would end my Victorian life.

“Son of a bitch…,” he growled. Snatching a fistful of my jacket, he dragged me across the lot. My heels scrabbled on the pavers as I tried to stop him. The brute ignored my attempts to peel his hand away; his grip was a vise.

“Unhand me! When Rother finds out—”

Blythe halted, yanking me close enough our noses nearly brushed. His annoyed breaths puffed across my face.

“Don’t think for one second Rother will raise an eyebrow over me rumpling you a bit to keep from missing that flight. We only came to this fucking place for the only thing he cared about: you. Why you’re pining over this place or that sad lot you call a family, I’ll never know.”

My face heated. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Even I can see they treated you like shit and you’re better than the whole lot of them. Stop acting like a boy. It’s time to move on.”

I cringed at his coarse language, but being treated this way by the help only underscored the flaws in my upbringing. Twice now I’d been called out. First by Rother and now by Blythe, both men supposedly beneath my social status. I was tiring of these revelations. Especially when they were right.

We stared each other down as I tried to stamp down the mixture of shame and anger in my chest. Passersby watched the scene, and I was only too happy to end their entertainment.

“I can walk on my own two feet.”

Blythe released me and I nearly fell, not realizing he’d lifted me off the ground. I squared up my jacket, trying to reassemble some fragments of my dignity and stalked to the stairwell.

“Good. Then I won’t have to carry you over my shoulder like a dead man wrapped in a carpet.”

I wasn’t sure what unnerved me more: the fact I stepped onto the aircraft, or the conviction in Blythe’s word choices.

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 8

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompts, use “Lost doesn’t even begin to cover what I am.”

Nathan and Rother share a stagecoach.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 8

“Are you still upset over the simple wedding?” Lord Rother asked.

Once the ceremony was complete, he’d hoisted me into the waiting stagecoach to get us on our way. He and I shared the cabin as his man, Blythe and Harston sat up front with the driver and horses. My family sent me off with a meager series of goodbyes, but after the farce of a wedding, it was more than I wanted from them.

“What makes you think I’d be upset?” I stiffened my arm to the upholstered seat to hold my balance as the shaking carriage lurched. I would have been happier traveling by railcar.

“You’re looking more rigid than usual.” He sat across from me, assessing with his intense eyes.

I didn’t even try to hide my annoyance. “Perhaps it’s the ride, Lord Rother.”

“I told you, the railcar schedules don’t match our itinerary. And when I say rigid, my title is exactly what I’m talking about. We’re married. Call me Rother. Titles are only for men who place value on status. This level of suffocating decorum your people insist on is tiring. A wedding is nothing more than a ceremony to bind two people.”

“It’s a declaration of that union.”

“With as large an audience as possible?” Rother’s brow twisted as he shook his head. “That smacks of elitist popularity.”

“It is not.”

“How many in attendance are actually close friends or relatives? How many are invited based on their social status? What’s the point of the Countess of Snobbery attending other than rubbing her nose in your success?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to look at him. “It’s not like that.”

“It most certainly is. True success comes from discovering and satisfying the needs of others, not glorifying in something that took little effort.”

“If I’m so hopelessly shallow, why would you marry me?”

Rother leaned to the side to catch my attention and bring me back to his. “I don’t think you are. I liked how you handled yourself in spite of your family’s negligence. Arthur puts on a grand show, but I know a liar when I see one. You were disappointed at the shabby chapel we married in, yet you said nothing. You have pride and integrity, Nathan. It’s a rare quality in a beautiful man. But I was interested from the first pictograph your father showed me.”

“When was that?”

“A year ago, I think.”

I laid a hand across my waist, fingering the edge of the chastity belt through my clothing. “So my… purity wasn’t your idea?”

“No, they thought you’d be more appealing to suitors that way. It’s what I wanted, so I saw no reason to change their minds.”

“The two of you discussed that about me?”

“My wishes were specific, but no secret.”

“Why was it so important?”

He turned to look out the window, watching the scenery race by. “In business, I am surrounded by immoral people, many of whose motives can’t be trusted from one moment to the next. I wanted something pure for once in my life. Everyone should have what they desire. I believe I’ve earned it.”

“And what about my desires?”

“Victorian men rarely understand them. It’s the upbringing.”

I added as much sarcasm as I could muster. “How ever shall I learn?”

“I plan on educating you.”

The confident rumble in his voice was equal parts alluring and disturbing. There was no humor in his comment, simply a matter of fact. I wasn’t sure if I should be alarmed or not. Hopefully, I hadn’t traded in one controlling man for another. Long minutes passed as I mulled over the concept. Rother continued to watch out the window, slumped back comfortably in his seat, unfazed by the quake as we hit a rough stretch of road.

“What kind of business are you in?”

“You’ll see soon enough. I’ll show you everything after we arrive. There are many other things far more important to attend to first.”

“Such as?”

“Settling you into your new home for one.”

“And?”

Without turning, Rother reached into his pocket and drew out an all too familiar key. “Getting you out of that belt.” I found myself speechless as he reached out with his boot and dragged the toe up my calf. The foreign heat of contact pushed ice into my spine. Rother’s growl drew a unexpected shiver out of me. “Your current condition is not going to be permanent.”

My breaths became quick, shallow puffs, matching my speeding pulse. The carriage seemed too small and stifling. Without another word, Rother returned his foot back to the floor. I tugged at the edges of my sleeves and jacket lapel, trying to order myself with uneasy hands. The heat in my chest made me queasy, so I levered open my window for fresh air.

Ridding myself of the horrible garment was a fantasy, but I could barely face the reality. A man like Rother would expect more than gracious thanks. Much more. He was my husband after all. There were marital responsibilities to consider, which I knew, but were now more pronounced than ever. Why was the thought of intimacy so terrifying? Out of my depth, I felt the need to change the subject.

“Why are we riding so fast?”

Rother snapped open his pocket watch and checked the time. “We’re in a hurry. We’ll be in a rush to board the airship. Stay close when we arrive. I don’t want you becoming lost.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling overwhelmed as the breeze flew across my clammy skin. Everything about us, like this coach, rocketed along at a breakneck pace. I hoped I’d have the chance to catch my bearings soon.

I kept my words hushed so Rother couldn’t hear. “Lost doesn’t even begin to cover what I am.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs

Free Reads!! Wednesday Briefs – Innocence & Carnality Part 7

Welcome to the next part in my Wednesday Briefs flash fiction serial, Innocence & Carnality! Each chapter has to be between 500 and 1,000 words and this week I chose the prompts, use “There isn’t even music playing.” and a photo of a throne.

The next morning, Nathan ponders his situation.

Click here to start from the beginning

Part 7

The wedding of a Victorian noble was a grand affair. At least a year was required to plan the entire event from the staging for the hall, to the miles of decorations, to the clerical blessings. A month of rehearsals alone were necessary to choreograph the actual function. It was a social event one dared not decline, and woe to the family not invited. Lords and ladies far and wide would celebrate the union, every detail governed with meticulous attention. All because it is our station.

Once a year, each fledgling lord and lady parades before the Monarch, High Governor of Victoria. It was our duty to be presented before the heads of our land, to be recognized as worthy of our class and approve us to wed into society. It was our defining moment. The pageantry and ritual was tedious at times, but we were taught from birth how we were bred to provide role models for the lower classes. Hence the strict guidelines and structure in our lives. We learned birthright alone was not enough, it was a gift earned through our actions and deeds. Deviate and be damned.

When my official confirmation arrived by post, I was elated. I ran through the house showing anyone who would listen. My father beamed. It was one of the last times, I think.

I felt I’d followed my tenets carefully, and the indoctrination ceremony left me ecstatic. I’d rehearsed the motions until exhausted, although it didn’t mean I wasn’t anxious. One by one, we stood before the Golden Throne, awed by it’s splendor, trying not to wet ourselves as they scrutinized us and the apothecarian’s report proving our blood lineage.

My knees quaked as the smallest frown came upon the Monarch’s face. I couldn’t tell if he was displeased or if it was his normal manner. My father stood beside me, which was customary, as he was the one presenting me.

The Monarch’s gaze was harsh and unsettling. “Thank you, Lord Valencus, for presenting young Nathan before us. Given the state of Victoria after the plague devastation, it would be a shame if Nathan were allowed to indulge his baser instincts, rather than do his part to restore the community.”

Father’s voice was thick. “Y… Yes. Of course, Milord.”

As we bowed and stepped away, Father’s face grew crimson and his tone became sharp for the rest of the day. I noticed the odd stares directed at us as we completed the ceremony. Father refused to explain. I didn’t understand the gravity of the exchange at the time, but standing here at my wedding, clarity became a measure of hindsight.

A short trip found our small group in the local vicarage, giving the requisite prayers. My parents, brothers, Lord Rother, and the hulking man who played his attendant were the small audience. No congratulatory crowd of guests. No reception to celebrate the joining.

The rustic pulpit served the droning vicar, in a building crafted by tradesman, not artisans. There was no luxury as would be expected in an aristocratic ceremony, only function. We wore fine clothing, but not attire suitable for a wedding. The whole thing was an insult and my father was the architect. Any noble family would be ashamed at the callous handling of the whole debacle.

I held my head high, refusing to acknowledge my offense. My parents sat focused on the vicar’s words, Mother looking vexed at the whole ordeal. Lord Rother stood by my side, a willing participant. Never had I felt like such an outcast.

I swallowed hard at the stage whisper Finn gave my mother. “There isn’t even any music playing.”

“Hush, Finn,” she hissed. “Making mischief at a time like this is horribly common.”

Finn recoiled, his shock obvious. I doubt he’d ever been scolded in my presence. Rather than feel solidarity from her defense, I felt nothing. The significance of the moment was lost on me.

Father had failed to react to Finn’s remark at all. Was I so beneath him?

Years of neglect and his dismissive remarks rushed through my memories. The wave was strong and a deep, stuttered breath barely centered me. It would take little to drown. How I managed to control my contempt, I’ll never know. The rage sat on my tongue, twisted with suffocating heartache. Knowing any outburst would embarrass Lord Rother and be a waste of time, I curbed myself.

One moment of shame in front of the Monarch sparked years of poor treatment I didn’t earn and certainly didn’t deserve. I refused to cry in front of my family, no matter how tempted. It wasn’t my fault my orientation conflicted with the country’s direction. I have been the unwilling player in this ghastly theatre.

Lord Rother may not have been my ideal love, but at least he wanted me. He said I was what he was looking for with only a minor introduction. Why wait, he said. I held worth in his eyes. A worth beyond my Father’s narrow vision. Could I be the spouse Lord Rother required and find a place for myself in his home? It’s what I was trained for. The travel to another land sounded less daunting and more opportunistic every minute. Surely I could build a new life in Francine? I grasped the concept for dear life.

Squaring my shoulders, I tugged my jacket straight and tamped down my unease. There would be no emotional outbursts other than looking forward to my future. My marriage had been arranged to a proper gentleman after all.

No matter what came next, I would hold tight to my ideals. I was better than I’d been treated, still the noble I was born to be, and would make the most of my situation. Only once I made this decision, did I come to hear the vicar’s words.

“I now pronounce you, Sir Nathan Valencus and Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III, joined for life.”

Check back next Wednesday for the next installation… Be sure to take a read at the other briefers free reads this week here: Wednesday Briefs