Ravon Silvius's Blog, page 10

Check out what came in the mail!

My print copies arrived! (Try to ignore the cat foot).

Release date for Freshman Blues is on the 3rd! I'll be hosting an event on the Dreamspinner blog on the 3rd, and then on the Dreamspinner FB page on the 7th, so stop by for a chance to win one of these free print copies!

Wednesday Briefs: Aesthetics of Invention part 28

Part 28
It had been a frantic hour since leaving the slums. He had run into Saul at the stables, and been told that Thorn had gone looking for him.
Gone looking for him. The words had warmed the last bits of worried ice in Kenneth’s heart. Thorn wanted him too.
And when he saw him on the road, he felt the familiar flare of magic, warming his body and making Jade’s pounding hooves feel like he was gliding on air.
He stopped when he got close, staring at his lover. It had only been a few hours, but it felt longer. His magic thrummed beneath his skin, as though it too was glad to see his lifemate again. Thorn was beautiful in the evening air, his head cocked as though waiting for something, his eyes sparkling with what Kenneth hoped was happiness.
“You didn’t get very far, did you?” he said with a small smile.
“I…you said you needed time to think.” Kenneth chose his words carefully. “I wanted to give you time, but I did some thinking of my own. I know you don’t need me. You’re an independent, wonderful man, and I know that me being a mage might create problems. But its your independence that makes me love you.” His cheeks warmed. “You’re my equal, Thorn. You’re any mage’s equal. Don’t let anyone else make you think differently. Your choices should be made yourself, just as mine are.”
 Thorn twisted the reins in his hand, his gaze distant for a moment. “It’s good to hear that,” he said. He patted his horse’s neck, then dismounted, hopping down on the ground. Kenneth followed suit, very aware of Thorn’s nearness.
 “I know you’re right,” Thorn continued. “I’ve always made my own choices. But I always think…what would my parents think?” his smile slipped for a moment. “I know its foolish. So many people who’s parents are alive rebel against them and their wishes for their children. But I do want to honor the memory of those who’ve gone before. We talentless don’t get to do that with surnames, so we cling to memories, I suppose.” He shrugged, Kenneth’s heart going out to him.
“Your parents, I’m sure, would want you to be happy,” Kenneth said. “I know mine wish that for me, no matter what. Things will work out.”
“I know,” Thorn said. He turned to Kenneth. “It’s just that fool George put concerns in my head, about my parents and other talentless and…everything, really. But it was a moment of weakness, that’s all.”
“Not weakness,” Kenneth said. “You could never be weak.” Thorn was stronger than any mage Kenneth had every known. Most talentless, Kenneth had to admit, probably were too. All he had learned in this short week proved that several times over.
“I do love you, Kenneth,” Thorn said. “And I’m glad I get to make that choice.”
Kenneth’s heart swelled, and he moved forward, going to envelop Thorn into a hug. Thorn hugged him instead, the inventor’s arms crushingly strong and his body strong and firm against Kenneth’s.
“I know things won’t always be easy, but love never is,” Thorn whispered. “Is it?”
Kenneth didn’t answer right away, letting himself be folded into Thorn’s arms. He knew things would get tougher in the future. He had no idea what sort of challenges would face them, both as men and then as Enforcers. But he was sure they could handle it.
“If it were easy, it wouldn’t be as rewarding,” he finally said, and Thorn laughed before pulling him into a slow, languid kiss, his lips soft, and then his tongue warm and slick against Kenneth’s. 
"C'mon," Thorn said, his voice husky. "Let's go back to my place." 

New Title Announcment from Renee Stevens!

***Available Now from Dreamspinner Press*** Dreamspinner Press – eBookDreamspinner Press – Paperback
BlurbPhillip Jorgensen tried to live the straight life and ended up divorced. But he wouldn’t trade his two kids, Jacob and Samantha, for the world. His ex-wife has kidnapped them and he's been searching for them for six long years. But he’s not giving up—never, not for anything. His twin brother has encouraged him to start living again, but how is he going to find romance with all his baggage?When he meets Vance Pierce at the new gym, Phillip sees a chance to find some happiness.Phillip has to explain the whole sordid mess to Vance and pray that he understands that he’ll never stop looking for his children. That’s easier said than done. Telling Vance might be risky. Is their connection strong enough to convince Vance to stay? Or will he think that Phillip is too damaged to love? This is Phillip's chance at the life he never thought he could have. But is it possible?ExcerptBree was pulled away from him, and he was doused from head to toe in ice-cold water. He wiped his face and turned, only to be met by his brother’s laughing face.“Hey there, little brother.” Robert smirked and pointed the hose at him.“You’re so going to pay for that.” Phillip advanced. He was already drenched. It wasn’t like Robert could get him any wetter. “And you’re how much older? That’s right, ten minutes.”“I’m still older.” Robert grinned evilly. He covered the tip of the hose with his thumb, and the ensuing spray engulfed Phillip. “Do you really think you can best me?”“I think so,” Phillip answered with a mischievous grin as his gaze settled on movement behind Robert. Bree and Corey had gotten their hands on the other hose and were sneaking up on their dad. “You are going to get so wet,” Phillip warned. Seconds later the kids turned the hose on Robert, causing him to drop his own hose as he yelled in surprise. Phillip dove for it and proceeded to help them drench their dad. “You give yet?”“Never.” Robert roared playfully. He launched himself at his brother, sending them both sprawling in the mud and struggling to gain control of the hose. Childish laughter reached their ears and water showered down on them, courtesy of Bree and Corey.“On the count of three, you get Bree,” Robert whispered to his brother as they wrestled in the mud.“Sounds good.” Phillip kept his own voice low enough that he couldn’t be overheard. They maneuvered until they were in a position where they could get to their feet quickly.“One… two… three,” Robert yelled, and Phillip lunged to his feet next to Robert.Author BioRenee Stevens first started writing in her teens but didn’t get serious about being an author until her mid-twenties.  Since then she’s written a number of contemporary stories, as well as delved into the paranormal.  When not writing, or spending time in the outdoors, Renee can usually be found working on GayAuthors.org in her capacity of admin and Anthology Coordinator.Renee resides in Wyoming with her wonderfully supportive husband and a menagerie of four-legged critters.  Making the most of the nearly constant negative temperatures and mounds of snow, Renee spends much of the winter months in hibernation with her laptop, the voices in her head keeping her company while her husband works. When she needs a break from writing, Renee takes to the sewing machine to design, and make, beautiful quilts.When the snow finally disappears, usually around May or June, Renee can be found in the great-outdoors.  She spends her time on the mountain, at the lake, and just anywhere that she can do some camping, take some photos, and ride the four-wheelers with her hubby.  Once back at home, it’s back to writing.Twitter * Blog * Facebook * Goodreads

Freshman Blues--Out July 3rd!

Freshman Blues has a release date! It's out on July 3rd from Dreamspinner press in both Ebook and print!

You can check out the coming soon page here!

Wednesday Briefs: Aesthetics of Invention part 27

Part 27



Thorn’s feet thudded against the floor of the hallway, and the thuds turned to a steady rap as his path took him outside on the gravel of the entranceway, and finally to the stone path that led to the stables.
The fresh scent of hay and horses met his nose, and one of the animals whickered at him as he headed toward the far stalls.
His heart sank. He should have known. Jade's stall was empty. Kenneth was gone.
“Thorn?”
He whirled at the voice. Saul stood at the entrance, and his friend beckoned him out of the back of the stables. The day had wound on toward evening, the sun sending the sky into the red of a furnace with the promise of the purples of late dusk coming soon. By now Kenneth was probably back at the collegium already. 
“Are you alright, Thorn?” Saul asked.
“I…yes. I’m alright.” He couldn’t help but look back at the empty stall where Jade had once stood.
“Kenneth left.” Saul’s words stung, even if they were obvious.  Thorn looked down at the ground, at the dust on the floor of the stables that Kenneth must have walked through a short time ago. He hoped Kenneth wasn’t too angry. Or too sad.
“What happened, exactly, Thorn?” Saul asked.
The words brought back the confusion and uncertainty, but only for a moment. Thorn sighed, leaning back against the wooden wall of the stable. “George,” he said after a few moments. “It was a stupid…a stupid thing he did, and a stupid choice on my part. He broke some stuff in my room.” Saul’s eyes widened. “A gift Kenneth had gotten me. I got…scared, I guess, or angry. I told Kenneth to go.” He regretted it even more all of a sudden, the pain a twist in his shoulders.
“He did leave,” Saul said, and Thorn frowned. “I talked to him, though.” Thorn looked up. “He didn’t tell me much. But…” Saul rolled his shoulders, his artificial leg thudding against the floor as he shifted his weight. “Well, I know you’re hurting, or upset about George. But Kenneth…he only left because you asked him to, for what that’s worth.” Saul met Thorn’s eyes. “He’s not afraid of George. He just wants you to be happy. He loves you, you know. He told me.”
The words both warmed and stabbed Thorn’s heart. He had sent him away, stupidly, in shock at something someone else who didn’t even matter had done. “I know,” he said. And he did love Kenneth. He was certain of it now. Mages, talentless...it didn't matter. It never should have mattered.
He had to go after him. He moved away from his spot against the wall.
“What will you do?” Saul asked. “He’s a mage. Your life is going to change, a lot, if you live with him.”
“I know that too,” Thorn said. But now, it seemed somehow less important. “But who’s life doesn’t change after they find the person they love?”
Saul smiled. “You’d better go find him, then.”
Thorn nodded. It would be dark soon enough, but he knew the way to the collegium. Kenneth had wanted to stay with Thorn for a week, and that wouldn’t change.
He turned back, unlatching a familiar stall. Behind him, Saul called “Good luck.”
Soon enough, he was mounted up on Chocolate and heading away from the college, toward the road that would take him back to the magi collegium. The air had grown unseasonably cool, and beneath the shade of the buildings that made up the slums of his hometown, he shivered.
Saul supported their relationship, in his own way. Saul, a man who had every reason to fear mages. The thought made Thorn smile. George may not be able to see Kenneth’s kindness, his understanding, but Saul could.
If enough talentless could see the good in it, or at least more than those like George who couldn’t see past the war, then it would be fine. For a time, he wondered what his parents would have thought of Kenneth, had they survived.
But that didn’t matter. The past didn’t matter, or at least it shouldn’t.
Hoofbeats clattered on the road behind him, and he pulled Chocolate to a stop, craning to look.
The first thing he made out was Jade’s sleek, shiny green halter in the fading light of the dusk, and then the sight of his lover galloping towards him filled him with joy.

Wednesday Briefs: Aesthetics of Invention part 26

Kenneth didn’t want to go back to the magi collegium, but he needed to give Thorn time.
The air outside the inventor’s college was warm and full of the gritty, smoky scents of the nearby slums. He had learned a lot about the twisting roads that led between the buildings, and knew enough to not lost or stumble into an area where a rich-looking mage on a fancy horse would get his pocket picked.
But there was no area in the slums where a mage like him would actually belong, save for by Thorn’s side.
Kenneth tried not to worry. He loved Thorn. Thorn loved him. If Saul was right, it would work out.
He clucked his tongue as he led Jade from the stables, pleased at her glossy coat and finely kept mane. Clearly the students who worked the stables to earn their keep at the inventor’s college took their work seriously. The stables themselves were cleaner than the ones at the collegium, Kenneth had to admit.
Jade swished her tail, and when they set off she pulled at the reins in the direction of the collegium, eager to run in the rolling hills that surrounded it. Kenneth clucked his tongue, pulling her back toward the slums. He supposed she felt out of place too.
Kenneth rode Jade away from the inventor’s college, his mind full of hope for his time with Thorn and with curiosity. He had learned a lot from Thorn, had heard the stories about talentless, but knew so little. He rode further, away from the places he knew, disregarding every bit of advice his father had given him when he had first begun to attend the collegium with the knowledge of the slums that lay beyond its grounds.
Wagons pulled by bony horses strolled past on the potted road, and smoke belched from a contraption that was attached to a house. More smoke poured from chimneys, from homes too poor to afford the engineer made heaters for hot water or for furnaces. Few people walked by, the homes boarded up or surrounded by shoddily constructed wooden fences. Noise, voices and arguments, streamed from the larger buildings, where cracked windows offered glimpses into families that were packed into tiny rooms.
Despite it all, a cheery tune played on a violin wound down the street, one Kenneth didn’t recognize, and the sun illuminated the city. Someone had painted on a wall, a drawing of a tree and some sort of flying contraption, or perhaps just a poorly drawn bird.
Kenneth’s father’s voice echoed in his mind. How could the talentless be happy living like this?
But no matter. They had their own lives, and could be happy despite what had happened during the war. The music continued, the violin joined by a flute and a drum, and Kenneth found the source in a small inn called J’s. J for Jaquin, certainly.
He didn’t go inside. It wasn’t his place to be.
Thorn could be happy without him, Kenneth knew. He didn’t want to believe it, of course. But the talentless didn’t need mages, and Thorn didn’t need Kenneth. In fact, Kenneth needed Thorn more than Thorn could ever need Kenneth.
He twisted the reins in his hand, the sun suddenly too bright and too hot. He had been foolish. He was convinced he had everything to offer Thorn, that his power and influence and money was enough, that his willingness to learn about talentless was enough.
But he had to offer Thorn more than just that. It was Thorn’s choice, of course. But fires, Kenneth cared about him. He loved him, and he had to show Thorn that. Kenneth wasn’t going to just give up without a fight.
Putting his back to the music, Kenneth headed back toward the inventor’s college.

Cover for Freshmen Blues!

Hello everyone,

I got the cover in for my upcoming release, Freshmen Blues!

 
When Chris is invited to prestigious Creekville University, he discovers he is part of an experiment by the mysterious Professor Faran. There’s no other way a C student like him would have been accepted into a college where academic mastery results in unique powers like levitation or empathy. But if Faran is right, even below-average students can get special abilities and a good job after graduation. Chris just has to work hard.
Chris isn’t the only one, either. Frederick has worked for Faran for years, and Chris is intrigued by the aloof and sexy older student. But Frederick is too terrified of life after graduation to pursue romance. As they work together, Chris tries to help Frederick out of his depression, all while juggling friendship, classwork, dating, and trying to carve out a place he can belong.

Wednesday Briefs: Aesthetics of Invention: Part 25

Part 25
“I know why,” one of George’s friends spoke up from his place on the couch.
George whirled, his eyes narrow and dangerous. His friend crossed his arms, tilting his head.
“What? I like you, George, but you’re in the wrong on this one, it sounds like. I know Thorn. He’s a good man, and a talented inventor. Whatever he’s doing with a mage, it’s not your business.”
“It’s everyone’s business when a talentless lies on her back and gives it up to a mage,” George shot back. “Why do you think they disrespect us? Why do they keep putting us down? Because we put up with it.” He shot a glare back to Thorn. “We serve them constantly, in every way, as though we’re happy to be second class citizens, and the blasted mages are content with it. We need to make their lives hard, to punish them, not let them think we can ever be happy this way!”
Thorn blinked, taking a step back. One thing George had said wasn’t sitting right, and then it hit him.
He had said “her,” not “him.”
“What do you mean, her?” Thorn asked. George paled.
“You’re not the only one, George,” his friend said. “But you’re the only one who’s still bitter about it.”
Thorn looked from George to his friend and back, wishing dearly he could remember the other man’s name. “What?” he said.
“Children of prostitutes,” the man said. “Me, and George here.” George threw him a murderous look. “Women who slept with mages too-They had too, especially during the war. They kept us, their kids, safe, and avoided the worst of the war.” It began to make sense in Thorn’s mind. A boy, his mother constantly at the whims of mages, forced to acknowledge his own powerlessness and that of his mother.
He met George’s eyes. The other man stood, back straight and chin jutted, as if daring Thorn to say something.
Part of him wanted to insult him, but the urge died quickly. “At least you remember your mother,” Thorn said, his voice quiet. The memory of flames and toppling buildings filled his mind for a moment. “At least she had the chance to protect you.”
“She couldn’t, in the end.” George practically spat the words. “She died, of some disease some foul mage had given her. Serving them gets you nothing. That’s the last thing she told me. Better dead than a servant to the ones who will use you and throw you away.”
Thorn shivered at the hate in George’s voice, and how his words spoke to the fear deep inside him.
“That’s enough, George,” George’s friend said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve made your point. Just leave Thorn alone from now on.”
No. George wasn’t right. Thorn couldn’t leave it like this, not without saying his side of things.
“It’s not true,” Thorn said. “I…I’m sorry for what happened to you. And for your mother.” Thorn blinked, buildings burning behind his eyelids, his own memories blinding for a moment. Everyone had their own hardships. “But Kenneth isn’t like that. And I’m not a…” he had to put it delicately, to not insult the memory of his mother. “I’m not doing it for any reason other than I care about him. It is not a business arrangement. I love him.”
“You love him? A mage?” One of George’s friends spoke. “Why?”
Why. As though that could even be answered. Saul had asked the same thing. How can you love a mage?  Confusion and uncertainty had whirled in Thorn’s mind since Kenneth had come here, had stayed with him among his people.
“Because he loves me,” Thorn said. “Because he’s the kind of man who will stay with me, here in the slums, even when he’s from a noble’s mansion. Because he cares for me, and wants to help me, and wants so much to understand my life.” He flexed his metal hand, thinking back to Kenneth staring at his new invention, the replacement for his metal hand that would be completed soon. He had come a long way since calling his hand monstrous. “Because what matters to him is me, not our circumstances.”
Thorn had been the one to let the circumstances in, and ruin things. His throat tightened.
“Mages use us, Thorn,” George said. “You’re a fool if you think otherwise. Don’t turn your back on your people.”
Thorn lifted his chin. “No, you’re the fool,” he snapped. “You’re the one limiting the progress we could make.”
 George stared at him, eyes narrowed, and Thorn wondered how many people like him in the future there would be. People who were forever scarred by the war, by the memories they had, and would never understand.
It would be something he and Kenneth would face, over and over. But at least they could face it together.
He turned and headed back down the hall. He had to find Kenneth.

Wednesday Briefs: Aesthetics of Invention part 24

Part 24
Thorn sat on his bed, the bed he and Kenneth had shared the past few nights, and stared at the broken automaton. The pieces were brittle, the metal not warped even in the bits that weren’t bent out of shape. It wouldn’t have lasted long, which was typical of something bought at the journeyman’s fair.
But it would have been nice to have nonetheless. Kenneth would be nice to have nonetheless.
Thorn’s throat tightened, heat building behind his eyes. Fires, was this it? Their future together, over, because of a broken toy?
But it wasn’t a broken toy. It was everything that had been bubbling in Thorn’s mind since Kenneth had begun to stay here and his friends and peers had looked at Thorn as though he was a stranger. Hearing about the war, and the knowledge of what the magi had done…Was he betraying all of that? Would his own peers, his one time friends, his own people, hate him? Would they hate the man Thorn loved, for what magi had done?
But Kenneth wasn’t like that. He had shown that several times over.
But it didn’t matter if no one realized it.
Thorn cursed, dropping the pieces of the automaton. It should matter. Talentless shouldn’t be like mages, just as shortsighted and prejudiced. There had to be a reason for this, something else, anything.
Thorn was going nowhere chasing his own thoughts in circles. He knew exactly who had done this. He ripped open the door, the wood splintering again as it hit the wall with a bang. He had told Kenneth not to, but Thorn was no mage. He was going to talk to George.

            ***Anger and nervousness clawed at his chest and neck as Thorn strode down the hall. The sound of conversation flowed through the closed door of the common room of the residence hall, where every person he had asked had said George typically frequented.
When Thorn swung the door open, three other people turned to look at him. George sat one of the wooden chairs, two of his friends who Thorn only recognized from a few engineering classes seated across from him. George raised an eyebrow, and silence pervaded the room for a moment, both men waiting for the other to speak.
Finally Thorn gave in. “George, I need to talk to you,” he said through clenched teeth.
“We can talk here,” George replied, his tone as flat as any Professor who was disappointed with a student. It galled, and Thorn clenched his metal hand. Fine.
“I want to know why you have a problem with me,” Thorn said, his voice rising in volume. “I want to know where you get off on entering my room and destroying my property.” The other two people in the room exchanged glances, shifting on the couch as though they suddenly very much did not want to be there.
George’s eyes narrowed. “That’s quite the accusation. Have any proof?”
“What proof do I need?” Thorn’s fist clenched so hard he felt something bend, and he relaxed it with effort. “Don’t take me for a fool.”
“I don’t know, Thorn,” George said, leaning further back on the couch as though this entire conversation was beneath him. “You do let mages screw you.” The other two in the room grimaced at that. “Perhaps your mage broke it by accident.”
“Kenneth was with me the entire time!” Thorn shouted, his face heating. “You know that’s a lie!”
“Then prove it,” George said with a wave of his hand. “There’s no way you can prove I did anything.”
Thorn took a breath against the roaring fury in his ears. George was being purposefully difficult, and Thorn losing control of his anger would only make things worse. As much as he loved Kenneth, his lover’s quick temper was not something Thorn wanted to mimic.
But two could play the game George was playing.
“All I can guess for the reason you’d destroy something and drive Kenneth away is that you’re scared,” Thorn said, emphasizing the last word. “Is Kenneth truly that frightening to you?” George’s eyes narrowed, and Thorn twisted the knife. “A successful man, ready to graduate, and an expert duelist, but scared of mages like everyone else.” George’s two comrades turned to look at him. Thorn dearly wished they would leave, but perhaps an audience would help drive his point home. 
“Are you threatening me?” George said, and Thorn blinked in surprise.
“Fires, no,” Thorn said. “Are you afraid of me, too?”
“I’m not afraid!” George stood, shoulders and neck taut, and he gestured at the floor as he spoke, venting his emotion with his hands. “I have no reason to be afraid of you or your mage.”
“Then why are you making it your problem?” Thorn hissed, taking a step closer. He wouldn’t let George intimidate him. “Why talk to me at the Journeyman fair? Why break my belongings? I’m not a fool, George, and neither is Kenneth. If you don’t like us, leave us alone, but I want to know why you did it.”
That was the heart of it all, Thorn realized. He had so many theories about people—they were angry, they were afraid, they would think Thorn was betraying them by being with Kenneth, they would hate Thorn and Kenneth both. He wanted to know which was right.
But it wasn’t George who answered.

WaterLord Trilogy going to Print!

Hello all!

Just a quick announcement today: The first book series to go to print will be The WaterLord Trilogy!


The cover will be the above, with the title change of course. If you wanted to get the entire series in one place, have a copy to read in the bath, or haven't checked it out yet and want to experience it all at once, keep an eye out for the print release! I will let you know when I know the exact release date!