Soaring With Hawk now out in ebook!

When factory worker Jester lets supervisor Hawk convince him to visit the Velvet Glove, he has no idea what to expect. Hawk treats Jester with kindness, and soon enough, Hawk wants Jester to move in and be with him for the rest of their lives. Jester's family are less than thrilled, but when he thinks he has nowhere else to go, he discovers that he'll always have a place with Hawk.

Originally published on the Turn of the Screw Serial service and in the paperback volume, Velvet Glove 1.

You can buy it here.

Jester was feeling very strange. Not a bad strange, not at all; more like nothing was quite real. Not the car with its so soft seats, or Hawk with his so soft lips. And certainly not the tall building with the neon purple lights and the elegantly dressed doorman and the people wearing such fancy clothes as they came and went.

He looked down at his jeans and the t-shirt beneath his old, second-hand jacket. He didn't fit in here. He was neat and tidy and clean, but he certainly wasn't elegant or fancy or fine. He wanted to reach out for Hawk's hand, but he didn't want to presume. Perhaps he was dreaming. Perhaps none of this was real.

Then, Hawk's hand slid into his. "Come. We'll dine down here tomorrow evening as we'd planned. Tonight, let's simply be the two of us, yes? Quiet and casual? Easy."

He clung to Hawk's hand and to how solid and warm and real it felt. "I would like that, Hawk."

He was led into a lift and taken up and up and up. Hawk relaxed beside him, talking quietly to different people as they came on and off, one hand softly stroking Jester's hair. Then they stepped off into a softly lit hallway, down to a door where Hawk's palmprint was read and it opened. "Come in, Jester."

Jester stepped through the door, looking around with wide eyes. It was so quiet and everything looked like it was new. The room was very simple, all soft browns and warm hints of reds and oranges. There were large cushioned places to sit, low tables, and a vid-feed on the wall showing a visual of a fire.

"Can I put your coat away?" Sure hands took his coat off, sliding it down his arms and depositing it in a hidden closet. "Have a seat, Jester."

Jester toed off his workboots, not wanting to ruin the rich looking carpet, and wandered, looking at everything first before sitting down one of the large cushioned couches. He was back to that unreal feeling again. He wondered where the leather sofa was. Perhaps in one of the other rooms. Three whole rooms, just for Hawk. And such quiet. It was magical.

"Would you like a drink?" Hawk brought over a tray with thin crystal glasses and a carafe with a shimmering blue-violet liquid inside.

"Okay." He'd never drunk anything that color before. It reminded him of the lights outside of the club.

"This is abithe -- quite sweet and light. Almost a juice." He was poured a bit and then Hawk poured himself some and raised the glass. "To new friends."

Jester raised his glass the same way Hawk did and repeated the words. "To new friends."

He waited until Hawk drank and then tried to imitate the genteel sip.

Oh, the drink was sweet, dancing on his tongue. He took another sip, and then another.

"You like it?" Hawk leaned against the back of the sofa, long hair in a braid over his shoulder.

"It's nice. I've never tasted anything like it." Jester smiled over at Hawk, beginning to relax.

"Would you like another? Or would you rather wait to eat?" Hawk reached over and stroked Jester's lips, tracing them with one finger.

He leaned into the touch, mouth opening, tongue sliding out to touch Hawk's finger. The taste made him shiver, as did his own boldness.

"Which do you prefer?" he asked, eyes on the glittering black of Hawk's.

"I would prefer another kiss, pretty Pet. I would give you a taste from my own lips."

"Oh..." Jester nodded eagerly. Hawk's kisses were like nothing he'd ever felt before. "I would like that, too."