Rob Colton's Blog, page 3

A Long Overdue Update

Hello everybody!

It’s been a while since I’ve updated and it’s about time I started posting again. I haven’t released anything new in a while. I had to take some time off for health and personal reasons. I’m much better now, but I’ve found it really hard to get back into writing again.

As a different creative outlet, I’m trying my hand at creating a visual novel. I’ll be posting more about this on a regular basis.

In the meantime, I’ve posted the short story The Buckle on GayAuthors.org. It was originally part of the Stranded anthology from Wayward Ink Publishing, and was also available as a standalone short. After Wayward Ink went under, the rights reverted back to me and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I’ve decided to go ahead and post it for free on GA.

(Fans of Noah’s New Plan might recognize the setting as well as the character Rex.)

In addition to the game I’m working, I do have another short or two coming soon.

Thanks for reading! And thanks for sticking with me!

All Romance eBooks and iBooks

Due to the shut down of All Romance Ebooks, the books I self-published there have been removed from the Apple iBooks store. I am in the process of re-submitting the books with my own publishing account and they should hopefully appear on the iBooks Store within a day or so.

If anyone missed the window to download purchased copies of any of my books from ARE before they shut down, please send me an email and I will work with you to get you a copy.

I am also looking into setting up a store on Payhip, so look for more information soon.

Alicia Nordwell’s Cosmic Inception: Cover Reveal

Check out the cover for the lastest in Alicia Nordwell’s fantastic Saving Caeorleia series: Cosmic Inception!

Alicia is also running a raffle. Check it out for a chance to win an ebook or gift card.

COVER REVEAL

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Cover Artist: Christine Griffin

Pre-order Release Date: 6/17/2016
Official Release Date: 7/18/2016

Genre: MM Science Fiction
Length: 288 Pages/110k
Rating: Adult/Mature
Buy Links:

eBook: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/cosmic-inception-by-alicia-nordwell-7231-b

Paperback: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/cosmic-inception-by-alicia-nordwell-7232-b

Blurb

Their journey will span the universe and back, but there’s no guarantee they’ll make it together.

Though Nick and Fieo are drawn to each other, their relationship has never been easy. Their differences go beyond their races, but they’ve managed to work together to prevent the spread of corruption, growing closer along the way. Nick still battles the effects of years of oneliness, fear, and pain but surprises everyone when he refuses to stay behind when Fieo is sent on a vital mission to find the Collectors. Fieo objects, but there’s no stopping Nick when he sets his mind to something. Over the course of their mission, it becomes clear Nick is more than anyone ever imagined, but the mystery of his past threatens to derail his future.

The search for the truth will take Fieo and Nick far from Caeorleia, to worlds both familiar and completely alien, and put stress on their already tenuous relationship. It’s a journey that will either tear them apart or finally bring them together.

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Look at you.” The humid warmth of the garden enveloped and welcomed me. I stroked one finger across the fluffy yellow pod of a waist-high flower. The small strands curled in and then opened back into a wider puff, sending out a glowing powder that drifted high into the night sky. I chuckled. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the small flower was ticklish. I rubbed the pollen off against my shorts, glad I hadn’t tried to smell it. “You haven’t told me about these yet, Jirulm.”

The elderly Caeorleian was mumbling as he plucked clusters of hard orange buds off spindly stalks. I’d picked up the habit of talking to the plants from him, and it wasn’t hard to see why. They were so alive.

I had flowers, and fruit, and vegetables. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d get to live on a planet with wild flora. My schooling and job training had focused on creating new strains of food crops that were grown in chemical vats in the midst of a planet covered in metal and concrete.

Not exactly natural. Or very appetizing, if you knew where they got the basic building blocks for the food. No one had ever questioned it—I hadn’t either, until I’d taken the job with the Federal Food Service Corp after I couldn’t find a job anywhere else. Horrified when I learned the truth, I’d spent a few days unable to choke more than few mouthfuls down at a time, and they rarely stayed down. My mistake had been telling a coworker my plans to reveal everything to the public.

Of course when you’re a prisoner and starving, you tend to ignore the fact your food was grown from cells harvested from composted humans, and you ate it anyway. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

And I’d begged. A lot. At least five years spent on a spaceship as the experiement of scientists had sucked all hope from me. But then the military scientists’ plans had gone wrong. Ryker and Seral had been sent to the planet in a bid for more information. The doctors assumed the Caeorleians would blame Ryker, one of the hated nelho scum they named the human soldiers waging war on their planet. Instead, something completely unexpected happened. Seral joined in besedad with Ryker, bonding them together.

In a daring attack against the human military, using the nanos they filled Ryker with to spy on the Caeorleians, Seral had brought down the scientists’ enormous ship and spread the reengieeered nanos like a plague to the rest of the fleet. Along they way, they also rescued Dade and me, the only other two survivors of the scientists’ experiments.

And once again, I was wide awake in the middle of the night. The memory of the moments right before rescue came, when I was forced to watch as the human scientists cut the alien woman open, and listen as the sadistic doctors planned to cut my belly open to compare organs, disturbed my sleep almost nightly and left me sweating and shuddering in my bed.

I didn’t mind being awake in the early morning hours all that much. Some of the flowers in my garden only bloomed at night. Besides, I didn’t have much to do, so I could nap during the heat of the day. With a planet this tropical, it made sense for Caeorleians to be seminocturnal. Night was the only time I could count on finding Jirulm, the gardener who taught me about the plants in my garden. Ovrumi suggested I would enjoy gardening when he caught me wandering in the corridors, flinching away from the others passing by.

“It’ll be time to prune those soon, Nicklaus,” Jirulm said. The hum of his voice was low, nearly indistinguishable from the light wind rustling through the plants.

“But they’re just barely blooming.” Sure, flowers indoors brightened up the rather plain walls of the Residence, but all the ones in my suite were potted. I didn’t like to snuff out their already brief lives.

“Good thing, too.” He examined the flowers, pulling at one of the fluffy heads. “When agvarali have absorbed enough energy to glow, the heads detach during the final bloom and migrate along the breeze.”

“Oh, I bet that’s beautiful.” I could just imagine the small glowing fluff balls floating along a soft night wind, though I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see it. Fieo, the stubborn ass, refused to believe I’d be going to find the Collectors with his team, so I had no idea when the departure was planned. I’d assumed sooner rather than later, but maybe I’d still get to see the final bloom—some of the heads were already glowing a faint yellow.

Jirulm snorted. “Beautiful… and dangerous.”

I cocked my head sideways. “What do you mean?” Sometimes getting information out of the old alien was like pulling teeth. But when he did speak, he knew basically everything there was to know about plants on Caeorleia.

“They gather energy, like sampanga trees, but so much in such a small sphere means when they touch something—or something touches them, like a careless finger—they explode.”

I snatched my hand back. “Explode?”

His lips twitched at the corners. It was probably the closest I’d come to seeing a smile on his face. “Oh, not enough to kill you, but you could easily lose a finger in the energy jolt that spreads the seeds. Luckily, these blooms are harmless.”

“That doesn’t sound harmless! Why plant these in a garden if they’re so dangerous?” I couldn’t believe they were actually cultivating the damn things.

“They attract insects to pollinate the other plants.” Jirulm tapped one long stem, and one of the creepy flying bugs crawled out of a waving puffball and flew to another vine a few beds over. “See.”

That was one aspect of gardening I could do without. I did not like bugs. I had nightmares of them crawling inside my ears and laying eggs that would hatch into little buggy babies just dying to burrow into my brain. I backed away from the agvarali. “Well, feel free to prune these while I’m gone.”

Thoughts of going into space again on the mission kept crowding into my mind, disturbing the peace I usually found in my garden. I tried pushing them away and succeeded for a while as Jirulm rambled on. After checking the natural spring fountain in the center of the garden that fed the irrigation lines, he left me alone. There was a small carpet of grass around it, the blades a dull gray in the silver light of the moons. Nighttime lent a certain somber feel to the garden, muting the usually vibrant displays; I sighed as I settled on the grass to stare up at the stars twinkling.

There was a lot of beauty in the darkness.

About the Author

Alicia Nordwell is one of those not so rare creatures, a reader turned writer. Striving to find something interesting to read one day, she decided to write what she wanted instead. Then the voices started … Yep, not only does she talk about herself in the third person for bios, she has voices in her head constantly clamoring to get out.

Fortunately for readers, with the encouragement of her family and friends, she decided for her own sanity to keep writing. Now you can find her stories both free and e-published!She can be found quite often at her blog, where she has a lot of free fiction for readers to enjoy or working hard, or maybe hardly working, as an admin on GayAuthors.org under her online nickname, Cia.

Oh yeah, she’s a wife, mom of two, and lives in the dreary, yet ideal for her redhead complexion, Pacific Northwest. Except for when she disappears into one of the many worlds in her head, of course!

Find her at:

Cia’s Stories: http://www.ciasstories.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alicia.nordwell

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AliciaNordwell

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4479520.Alicia_Nordwell

a Rafflecopter giveaway

2015 Goodreads M/M Reader’s Choice Awards

The polls are now open for the Goodreads 2015 M/M Romance Group Member’s Choice Awards. Polls will close at 6:00 p.m. eastern time on 15 January.

I am pleased to say that The Degan Paradox was nominated by a reader in two categories! Best Sci-Fi/Futuristic, and Favorite All-Time M/M Romance. I also received a nomination for Favorite All-Time Author. Wow! I’m in some good company there….

If you’re a member of the group, you can vote by going through the polls: 

https://www.goodreads.com/poll/list/20149-m-m-romance?type=group

(Note: The polls span multiple pages, so be sure to click to the next page.)

There is also a list of polls here:

https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/17615146-the-5th-annual-m-m-romance-group-member-s-choice-awards

If you’re not a member, go ahead and join!

https://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/128018-best-sci-fi-futuristic-post-apocalyptic-steampunk-you-must-cli

https://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/128056-favorite-all-time-m-m-romance-hall-of-fame-award

https://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/128174-favorite-all-time-m-m-author-hall-of-fame-award-please

Guest Post: Mann Ramblings

Please welcome Mann Ramblings back. He’s here with the follow-up to his fantastic sci-fi novel, The Luxorian Fugitive.

A
COOK’S TALE

Book Two: Ship Logs of
the Santa Claus

by Mann Ramblings

 

 

M/M
Sci-fi Romance by Wayward Ink Publishing

Giveaway
for Book One – The Luxorian Fugitive below!

 

Buy Links:

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/a-cooks-tale-by-mann-ramblings/

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-acook039stale-1925761-153.html

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/Cooks-Tale-Ship-Santa-Claus-ebook/dp/B017I26RXG/

 

 

Blurb:

The trials
and tribulations of the crew and passengers of interplanetary transport vessel,
The Santa Claus continues in A Cook’s Tale.

After
a horrific breakup, Erron Murfin is bitter, homeless, and friendless. When the
cook’s position on the Santa Claus presents itself, Erron decides to escape his
current circumstances and join the crew. On board he reconnects with family
friend Gamin Wells, whose own secrets and issues begin to surface upon Erron’s
arrival. The least of which is the reason the pair haven’t laid eyes on one
another in over twelve years.

As
Erron settles into his new duties, the men on board take an interest in their
newest crew member. Among those intrigued by Erron are polyamorous couple,
Barrus and James. Despite Erron’s cautious nature, he’s drawn into a triad
relationship with the pair.

But
there’s something about Gamin…

Is
Erron too damaged to confront his own feelings?

Will his past prevent him from
finding what he needs?

Excerpt:

Beta Deck was situated like a large dormitory.
All the rooms ran in a loop with a central facility containing a gymnasium,
lockers, lavatories, and shower room. On a non-hetero vessel, the layout was
dubious to say the least.

Since
the majority of the crew was off-ship, Erron felt bold enough to enter the
locker room. In his quarters, he’d stalled for a bit, deciding how to proceed.
What was considered normal on the Santa Claus? Did the men walk around
half-dressed? Less than half? There were a lot of factors in fitting into an
established community. Towel over his shoulder, he stepped through the doorway
into the locker room. The gymnasium could be seen down one end and the shower
room was visible down the other. He wondered what it would be like with a dozen
men all stripping down and showering together in one room together. The
likelihood for something tawdry to happen seemed high.

Gamin’s
clothes lay over the bench and the sound of water running told Erron the chef
beat him here. Not surprising really, Gamin had been on the ship for years,
this was his home, and Erron hoped he’d soon feel the same.

Stripping
off, Erron dropped his garments in the same fashion as Gamin. Peeling off his
briefs, he felt a sudden surge of awkwardness. He was about to get in the
shower with Gamin. The nervous giggle tried to rip out of his mouth, so he
choked it down. He was being childish.

“Took
you long enough.” Gamin said. The chef hadn’t looked in Erron’s direction as he
held his head under the spray.

“I
had to find my towel.”

Erron
hung his towel on the hook near the doorway, and selected a shower with a
buffer of one nozzle between them. The control panel beeped as Erron touched
it, but nothing happened. Over and over, he touched the pad only to be mocked
by the same tone.

“It’s
voice activated,” Gamin said, barely looking over his shoulder. “Just tell it
the temperature you want.” Erron’s face heated up; he couldn’t bring himself to
admit he couldn’t muster the nerve to use the shower last night after they
turned in. The ship was too quiet, and too new.

Ducking
his head slightly, Erron leaned forward and spoke to the black panel. “Forty-
two degrees Celsius.” A torrent of heated water rushed over Erron, the
delicious heat the first step in washing away what felt like months of grime
and sad reminders of his derailed life. The cheap inns he’d been forced to rent
after being evicted had lousy facilities. This… this was a small piece of
chocolate decadence.

“Like
your showers pretty hot?” Gamin continued to face the wall as he soaked
himself.

Erron
angled his hips, keeping his privates out of view. “I’d forgotten how nice it
feels.”

For
the first time he could remember, Erron felt self-conscious. The fitness
membership expired shortly after the breakup, but Erron hadn’t lost too much
tone. He’d never be large and imposing, his frame didn’t allow it. A lean body
and smooth skin could still turn heads. The treatment responsible for his hair
growing in green made all the rest on his body the same color. Jade colored
hair on his arms and legs was too odd and a green pubic zone made him feel like
a perverted clown, so it had to go. There was nothing wrong with him, but why
he felt the need to hide himself, he couldn’t say. He certainly never acted
this shy in front of the troops during the war. It was more than a bit
hypocritical when he peered over his shoulder at his showering partner.

Tall
and thick, with coarse hair on his arms and legs, Gamin’s size and sturdiness
were a stark contrast to Erron’s smaller stature. Wisps of fur reached around
the sides of the chef’s rounded belly that matched the meaty globes of his
behind. Everything about Gamin was solid and manly. The peppering of gray on
his head and beard fit him as well.

It
was true, he probably shouldn’t be looking, but Erron had never seen Gamin this
way in all these years. Not even shirtless at the park when he was growing up.
From what he could see, the view wasn’t half bad; Gamin had nothing to be
ashamed of. What he did notice was how deliberate Gamin was being at not
looking at him.

“You’re
a lot bigger than I remembered.” Erron couldn’t help watching Gamin soap his
body while continuing to face the wall. It had been a long time since he’d had
any opportunity to be with a man. While it wasn’t his plan to be with Gamin, as
long as he didn’t turn around, Erron could enjoy the show. He prayed Gamin
wouldn’t turn around. That would be mortifying.

“Yeah
well, I’ve had time to eat a few good meals.”

“It
looks good on you.”

Gamin
chuckled as lines of lazy suds followed the contours of his back and between
the crevice of his haunches. “Thanks. You’ve changed a lot over the years too.”

“I’m
not a kid anymore.”

“No.
No, you’re not,” Gamin said, drenching his head under the spray.

 

Giveaway:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

About the Author:

Like many gay men, when MANN
RAMBLINGS grew up, there weren’t any heroes he could relate to. The world held
him back while he tried futilely to hide the real person inside. So much has
changed since those hollow days. He finally found his voice, the voice that
says it’s all right to revel in the so-called inappropriate joys, laughs, and
loves that storm inside a man’s head. It took a long time to find that courage
and now that it’s here, he plans to use it well.

While spending years more focused on
visual arts, he never let go of his innate passion for storytelling—he wanted
to write and draw comic books when he grew up. Once he discovered M/M fiction,
a whole new world opened with new possibilities. Why couldn’t you have
fantastic and dynamic tales with an M/M cast? He started reading the online
tales of authors like, Night Tempest, Rob Colton, and Alicia Nordwell, which
only fueled within him the need to create. Eventually he found GayAuthors.org,
and with a little coercive nudge from Night Tempest, started sharing his tales
with an unexpected level of positive response. That experience and support gave
him the courage to cross his fingers and aim for the world of M/M publishing.

Born and raised in Michigan, Mann
Ramblings continues to type away, wishing it was practical to use a noisy, old
fashioned keyboard that clacks with each strike, if only to annoy his loving
partner and spoiled miniature dachshund.

 

MANN RAMBLINGS can be found at:

Blog: http://mannramblingsblog.wordpress.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mannramblings

Twitter: @mannramblings

Wednesday Briefs update

I’m getting over a cold, so this week’s chapter isn’t quite ready.

It should be ready later today!

Rob

Wednesday Briefs: The Caretaker - Chapter 8

Here’s the next chapter of my Halloween short story.

Every Wednesday, I’m going to try to publish a chapter to this new story. Each chapter is between 500-1000 words and is inspired by a prompt (a choice between several given items, phrases or pictures).

The chapters will also be cross-posted to my GayAuthors.org page.

This week I ended up at 802 words, with “You’re a hypocrite” as my inspiration.

Be sure to check out the free fiction from my fellow Briefs bloggers, available at http://wedbriefsfic.com/

“Will you two get up already?” I let out an exasperated
huff.

Grant and Chris rose from their kneeling positions. They
stood there, staring at the ground, neither speaking. I looked back and forth between
them, waiting.

The silence lingered until it became excruciatingly
uncomfortable.

“For god’s sake. You guys make me crazy.”

Still neither spoke.

“Okay, whatever. I’m not doing this. Find someone else.”

I pushed past Grant, who finally turned around. “Hudson, you
can’t do that!”

“Since both of you still want to keep me in the dark, then
let’s just pretend none of this happened. I’m done.”

Grant stopped me from leaving. “Hudson, it’s not like that.
It’s just… We’re not used to talking about this stuff.”

Letting out a sigh, I sat back down on the bench. “So why do
you think I’m the new caretaker?”

Grant rolled his hand with a flourish, and motioned toward
the flowering shrub. “Hello? You brought a dead plant back to life. Even now
your energy is flowing through the circle.”

I looked down at the shrub, and noticed blades of grass
underneath it had started to sprout through the dead brush.

“This is the
circle?” I asked, looking around.

A woman’s voice answered from behind me. “Yes.”

I turned as Grant’s mother walked into the garden. Norma
motioned toward the large statue jutting from a jagged rock. It always reminded
me of the heads on Easter Island, only tall and skinny. It was weathered and
crumbled, with dead vines crawling all over it. “That’s the head stone. The
other eleven stones are arranged in a perfect circle, like a clock. They’re
buried under all this decay.” She smiled, but it was without joy.

In fact, this Norma Reynolds was a completely different
woman. Gone was the doting housewife with the cheery disposition. Was
everything I knew about everyone a complete lie?

She moved to stand between Grant and Chris. “We belong to
the Order of the Sacred Circle of Stones. You are its Caretaker. We are here to
protect you and the circle. To be perfectly honest, it’s mostly ceremonial.”

Chris scoffed, then snarled. “Until recently. When the
caretaker—the old caretaker—turned to
the dark side.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re confusing him with Darth
Vader, Obi Wan.”

Norma ignored our banter. “The caretaker draws his energy
from nature, from the Earth. This circle is not only an outlet for this energy,
but it recharges you and replenishes you. But it seems your predecessor had
decided to toy with dark energy, including experimenting on living creatures.
As his natural energy died, so did the garden.”

“He had this root,” I told her. “It was dark. It was… alive.” I shuddered as I thought about the
root. Shaking my head, I blocked it out of my mind. “If I agree to be the
caretaker, how am I supposed to know what to do? I mean, is there like a
Hogwarts night school where I can take classes?”

“There is no agreeing. You are the caretaker, whether you like it or not. Unfortunately, if we
had a proper succession, you would have become his apprentice before his
passing. But there are others you can learn from. This isn’t the only circle.”

* * * *

Chris drove me home in silence. I wasn’t really in the mood
for talking, but at the same time I was annoyed by his lack of emotion.

I unlocked my apartment and held the door open. “Come in.”

He hesitated for a second, then followed me in.

“You’re going to use this as an excuse, aren’t you? You’re
already distancing yourself from me.”

“It’s complicated, Hudson.”

“I don’t get what’s complicated. If you don’t want me, just
admit it.”

Chris lifted his eyes and met mine. He let out a breath,
then opened his mouth, and then closed it. “It’s not that I don’t want you. It’s—”

“Complicated.” I rolled my eyes as anger welled up in me. “You’re
such a hypocrite. I think I liked you better when you were scowling at me from
across the room. You know what? I’m tired. Someone tried to kill me, and now I’m
glowing green. I’m freaking exhausted, and I think you should go. That should uncomplicated
things.”

I opened the door and held it for him.

“My job is to protect you, Hudson, and I can’t do that if we’re…”

“Right. Why don’t we uncomplicated that, too? You’re a
coward, and I don’t need you to protect me.”

Chris’s jaw dropped as he stared at me. “But, Aunt Norma
said—”

“I don’t care what she said. You guys work for me, right? Well,
tell your aunt you’re fired.”

I pushed Chris through the door and slammed it behind him as
hard as I could.

* * * *

Be sure to check out the free fiction from my fellow Briefs bloggers, available at http://wedbriefsfic.com/

Wednesday Briefs: The Caretaker - Chapter 7

Here’s the next chapter of my Halloween short story.

Every Wednesday, I’m going to try to publish a chapter to this new story. Each chapter is between 500-1000 words and is inspired by a prompt (a choice between several given items, phrases or pictures).

The chapters will also be cross-posted to my GayAuthors.org page.

This week I squeaked in at 990 words, with a picnic as my inspiration.

Be sure to check out the free fiction from my fellow Briefs bloggers, available at http://wedbriefsfic.com/

“Hudson? Are you okay?”

Chris’s voice sounded so far away. I opened my eyes to find
his blurry face over mine. He helped me to a sitting position, and every joint
in my body protested being moved.

“Ow…”

I blinked a few times until the room came into focus. The
caretaker’s dried husk of a body lay next to me, his hands stuck outward as if
he was still trying to grab me.

“Oh god, that’s gross.” I grabbed Chris’s jacket and pulled
myself closer. He helped me to my feet, and I looked around the room as I
stood.

A pile of black dirt caked with deep veins of red ooze lay
on the floor behind Chris. Another one on the workbench spilled over onto the
floor.

The remains of the caretaker’s evil root lay at my feet. A
deep, dark purple haze of light surrounded it. The aura surged and retreated,
slowly and steadily, like a glowing heartbeat. It was mesmerizing. I couldn’t
take my eyes off it. It didn’t deserve to be on the ground like that. So
disrespectful. I should pick it up. If I took the pieces and placed them in a
pot, I could get the roots to grow back together, and then—

Suddenly, the door crashed open, and Grant tumbled into the
room. He rolled into a crouch, brandishing a dagger.

“You’re a little late,” Chris said.

I laughed.

“What the hell happened?” Grant asked, tucking his dagger
into his belt. “Jesus, you killed the caretaker?”

“I didn’t. Hudson did.”

Chris and Grant both looked at me.

“I didn’t kill him,” I insisted. “I broke his… root… thing…
of evil…”

I looked back down at the root, still throbbing purple
light. “Do you see it?” I whispered. “It’s alive.”

“What are you talking about?” Grant asked. He pulled his
dagger and bent down, ready to poke at it.

I grabbed his hand. “Don’t touch it! You’ll get the purple aura
on you.”

“Purple aura?” Grant frowned. “Did you hit your head?”

“No. That thing is evil.”

Resisting the urge to pick it up, I stepped on the biggest
piece, using my boot to smush it into the concrete as hard as I could. I could
hear its screams echoing in my heads as I destroyed the pieces. I ignored it,
instead grinding and twisting my feet until the noise faded.

Chris put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face
him.

“What do you mean? Are you seeing colors?”

“Yes.” I looked down at the remnants of the root. “Well, not
anymore. Didn’t you see it? You didn’t see the caretaker’s aura?”

“No, Hudson.” Chris shot Grant a look. “Do you see any
colors now?”

Looking around the room, I saw nothing. Nothing out of the
ordinary, certainly no auras or hazy glows.

“I don’t see anything,” I answered.

Chris nodded and let out a breath, then stepped back. “Okay.
Let’s get out of here.”

“Mom and Dad are on their way,” Grant said.

I followed Grant and Chris through the wooden door. Stairs
led up, where the sun streamed in from an outer doorway. Stopping, I turned
back and shut the door behind me. As I reached out for the doorknob, I spotted
a faint green glow surrounding my hand.

As I ascended the stairs, I stared at my hands. The more I
looked, the easier it became to see the haze of green light.

“Guys? I’m glowing. I think…”

I stopped talking when I stepped into the sun. We had
emerged from a small mausoleum in the center of the caretaker’s cemetery. The
surrounding garden was dead, black and decayed.

“Oh…” My voice choked. Remembering the way it used to look,
comparing it to now, made me want to cry. I used to have picnics with Grant’s
family just a few yards away. “I guess we won’t be having any picnics.”

“I know,” Grant said quietly. “I don’t know what we’re going
to do now.”

I stepped through the tangled brambles to the bench in the
middle of the garden. A thin, wilted tree slumped against the side of the
bench, its dead branches splayed across the seat. I picked it up and moved it
aside, then sat down with a sigh.

No one said anything for a few moments. I looked up at
Chris, who smiled down at me. Well, that was a good sign.

“You’re tough, for a little guy.”

The hell?
“Little?”

Chris laughed. “It’s so easy to get a rise out of you. Too easy.” Chris wiggled his eyebrows.
He reached out and tapped the end of my nose.

Grant rolled his eyes. “Gross.”

I ignored Grant. “So, does this mean—”

Grant let out a loud gasp and stepped back. He yanked on
Chris’s arm, pulling him back.

“What?”

I followed Grant and Chris’s wide-eyed gazes, to the dead
plant next to the bench.

A single green bud had sprouted from one of the branches.

With the caretaker dead, would the garden come back to life
on its own? Gingerly, I lifted the branch. I felt it twitch against my palm as
it began to thicken and grow. Another bud popped out of the branch, followed by
another. The buds opened and leaves emerged.

I could only laugh to myself as I watched the branch come to
life, green light travelling from my hand, down the limb, and into the roots.
Within moments, I was staring at a fully living rhododendron bush, bursting
with clusters of pink flowers.

I turned back to Grant and Chris to find them both on one
knee, heads bowed, hands palm up.

“Uh, what are you guys doing?”

Chris wouldn’t look at me. In fact, he looked like he’d just
seen a ghost. Or maybe he’d just been kicked in the nuts when I wasn’t looking.

Grant’s eyes flicked up for a split second. “You’re the new
caretaker.”

Damn.

* * * *

Be sure to check out the free fiction from my fellow Briefs bloggers, available at http://wedbriefsfic.com/

New Author Spotlight

Bike Book Reviews has posted a new review of An American Lamb in Europe, giving it a 5 vodka cranberry rating :) Yay!

http://bikebookreviews.blogspot.com/2015/11/an-american-lamb-in-europe-review.html

I am also participating in their new author spotlight tonight, from 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM Eastern. My chat slot is 7:30-8:00. Hop on over to the Facebook event for some fun!

https://www.facebook.com/events/1725526344342473/

Wednesday Briefs: The Caretaker - Chapter 6

Here’s the next chapter of my Halloween short story.

Every Wednesday, I’m going to try to publish a chapter to this new story. Each chapter is between 500-1000 words and is inspired by a prompt (a choice between several given items, phrases or pictures).

The chapters will also be cross-posted to my GayAuthors.org page.

This week I squeaked in at 999 words, with the quote “What’s your problem, fuzzy nuts?” as my inspiration.

Be sure to check out the free fiction from my fellow Briefs bloggers, available at http://wedbriefsfic.com/

Using a dagger, Chris shoved the tip into the cuff around my
wrist. With a sharp turn, the cuff snapped open and it fell to the floor.
Before the metal even clanged onto the concrete, Chris was standing over me. He
had his fighting stick, still painted neon blue like a lightsaber.

“Touch him, and I will kill you,” Chris said through gritted
teeth. “Though I may do that anyway.”

In the corner cell, the lupoid had awoken. It shook off the
dirt like a dog, snarling and slobbering as it clamored to get out of the
locked cage.

I heard Grant calling out my name from the open door the
caretaker had come through. Just as he reached the bottom of the steps, the
caretaker flicked his hand. The door slammed shut.

Grant pounded on the door from the other side. “Hudson!
Chris!”

The caretaker clicked his tongue while slowly shaking his
head. “My poor boy. You can’t kill me. You’ve sworn to protect me. And this.”
He waved his finger above his head in a circle.

“That was before.”
Chris’s eyes narrowed. “When the circle and the garden flourished, before you
turned and corrupted everything with your filth.”

Garden? I
remembered when we were younger going to family outings with Grant and his
family. Many times we celebrated birthdays and anniversaries in this idyllic
garden outside the city. Located next to an old church and small cemetery, the circular
garden was beautiful—abundant with rich plant life, perpetually blooming flowers,
birds, bees…

Even the cemetery was well-tended. Each plot was covered in
thick grass and the headstones were always adorned with fresh flowers. Nothing
spooky here.

A few years ago we stopped going.

Was this basement under the church there?

“You were like the boy I never had,” the caretaker said as
he moved toward the pot on his workbench. The pot had split apart, its dirt
overflowing the broken pieces. In the middle grew this black, twisted… cactus? I had no idea what it was. “I
tried to tell you there was more out there. The order was holding you back.
They still are.”

“I saw what you did.”

“If you only knew the power—”

“Save it, Darth.”

The caretaker slipped his hand into the dirt spilled from
the pot. The prickly thing growing from it began to twitch and expand. One of
the cactus arms extended outward, its end turning into a clawed hand.

“Get your hand away from that,” Chris ordered.

“And how will you stop me?” The caretaker waved his fingers
and the iron cell door flew open. Without hesitating, the lupoid leapt at
Chris.

Chris snapped his pole, knocking the lupoid square on the
chin. It quickly recovered and lunged again, swiping its deadly claws at Chris.
He parried, then attacked back.

While Chris was busy fending off the beast, the Caretaker
concentrated on growing another beast in the dirt pot. The thing now had a head
and two arms. If he kept it up, there would be two lupoids, and Chris wouldn’t
be able to stop them both.

The purple haze around the caretaker diminished as he worked.

“Chris, the caretaker’s aura is weakening.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Chris grunted as he
shoved his stick up between the lupoid’s legs, hitting its balls hard enough to
make it yelp. “Kinda busy here.”

The new lupoid was growing at a rapid pace. It now was fully
developed from the waist up, and was growing bigger by the second. It clawed at
the workstation, trying to pull itself free from the dirt. The caretaker’s aura
pulsed and waned. He would soon need to… recharge?

“What’s your problem, fuzzy nuts?” Chris mocked the lupoid.
That only made it more angry.

Chris cried out as one of the lupoid’s claws made contact
with his chest. Chris countered with a kick, sending the lupoid thrashing
against the wall. It quickly righted itself and charged.

Stepping around Chris, I ran to the shelf and picked up the
box.

“Get back and call off your dog!” I shouted as I backed
away, clutching the box to my chest.

The caretaker’s eyes grew large. Enraged, he screamed, “Pet! Kill him! Now!”

The snarling lupoid tried to leap over Chris, but Chris
smacked the shit out of it with his lightsaber. “Run, Hudson!” he cried as he tried
to push the beast away from me.

Still locked out of the room, Grant pounded on the door to
no avail, doubling his efforts after hearing the caretaker.

Opening the box, I pulled the rotting root free, letting the
box fall to the ground and shatter on the concrete floor.

“No!” the caretaker shouted. Abandoning his task, he ran for
me.

I squeezed the root, wringing it with my hands. The smell of
putrid decay slapped me in the face as black slime and wriggling worms seeped
from the thing, oozing between my fingers.

“Oh my god,” I cried as I choked back the bile rising in my
throat.

Using every ounce of strength I had in me, I broke the root
into two.

The caretaker sucked in a loud breath as his body contorted.
The purple aura around him expanded in a burst bright enough to light the
entire room.

And then it was gone.

The old man withered before my eyes as he fell on top of me,
sending me to the ground. I tried to push him off me, but he was heavier than
he looked, and now we were face to face. The caretaker’s eyes were clouded with
cataracts. The scowl left his face as his features softened. He drew in a series
of shallow breaths. The corner of his mouth turned up.

He covered my face with his hands, holding me down with all
of his weight.

I couldn’t get free.

It was dark.

I couldn’t breathe.

In the blackness, a green spark took shape. It grew until it
became a blinding light.

* * * *

Be sure to check out the free fiction from my fellow Briefs bloggers, available at http://wedbriefsfic.com/