Sunday, July 31, 2011

Sci Fi Sunday - Reality Check Continues

Happy Sunday and welcome back to Reality Check, the sci fi story which is the WIP of friend and fellow author Sui Lynn and myself! When last we saw our boys, Kay and Reno, they were in the eyeballing stag. While Kay assumes that Reno is about to ask him to dance, the reality is a bit different. Enjoy!

Reality Check

I know that he’s coming over to welcome me home, this native person. Surely he doesn’t have a man servant with him? No, wouldn’t think so. Maybe a friend or relative. He’s rather attractive for being one of them. I find myself staring at the colors in his hair, smirking to myself, anticipating his words. He’ll be obsequious, of course. As befitting his station.  He’ll be awestruck, at coming face to face with me, his beautiful prince. And  he’ll be afraid to ask if I’d like to dance.

Damn, there is something very compelling about him. The closer he comes… I mean the closer he’s coming… I’m having a definite reaction to him, how strange. Why? I mean, I know he’s a male, and he’s very attractive. No, I didn’t say that. I mean that he’s good looking and sexy.  Wait, no, I’m confusing myself.

Why do I want to have sex with him so badly? I don’t even know him, but I’m drawn to him. This is… awkward.

There, he’s in front of my parents now. I try to calm myself down, especially my little prince, who is standing at attention. He’ll make his little speech, and ask his question, and then…

What the Nuverian fuck?  He wants to court who? I grit my teeth, count to ten, but I only get to two.


Who just yelled? Oh heavens and stars and everything I hold most holy, it was me.

My sister is elbowing me, my father has just turned those eyes on me. The ones that say you and I will talk about this later. And my mother has steamrolled over my objection like I never made it.

“Welcome to you both. Permission is granted.”


Oops, that’s me again.

They’re both looking at me. Him and his… his what?  Oh yeah, brother. I did hear that much. What’s his name? The brother or the hot one? How should I know? Oh  hell, yes, he did say. What is it? I can only remember Reno. That’s the sex god’s name.

What the smick is wrong with me? This is going all wrong. He has not asked me to dance. In fact, he’s looking at Luci. She’s looking at me. Or is she looking at the brother? I’m so confused.

Damn this, damn this all. I’m not sitting still for this! I stamp my foot to show my anger, just as the first dance number of the evening begins.

Without conscious thought, perhaps because at the moment I’m being led about by my cock, I grab Reno’s hand, and pull him with me to the dance floor.

“We’re dancing!” I announce. To whom? I have no idea and I don’t care.

Her father said no? Wait a minute, this was all pre-arranged. I stand up so abruptly, my head begins to swim.

“Welcome to you both. Our permission is granted,” Queen Kaerlighed says with a gracious smile for me and my brother, while King Liefde glares at the Princeling. Wonderful!  The Princeling is against the idea of a native courting his sister. Well, I have news for you, little spoiled man, this native is decidedly not too pleased about the situation either. So shove that up your ass sideways, you bigot.

“NOOOOOOOO!” the Princeling screams and stomps his feet, drawing my unwilling attention to him. And that of everyone else in the immediate vicinity. Damn if he isn’t just adorable when he throws his little temper tantrums. It’s too bad—“We’re dancing!”

NO… Wait! I want to scream out as my arm is being wrenched out of its socket and he’s dragging me—yes, literally dragging me— onto the dance floor.

“I’m sorry, your Highnesses. I swear this was not our intention. I—I truly—” Jaou stammers in shock.

I catch my brother’s eye and shrug my shoulders as well as I am able as I’m dragged through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Who am I to look badly on a gift from the gods? If the Princeling wants a dance, than so be it. The inevitable has been put off for at least a few minutes and, on the plus side, I get to hold this beauty in my arms. All of his anger seems to be evaporating as we take our places. I offer my hands to him, palm up. He’s the one dragging me to the dance floor, I’ll be damned if I’ll play the female role. He will be in my arms, not the other way around. I’m smirking at him, trying my hardest not to chuckle as I wait for him to decide if he will continue this joke—assuming that’s what it is— and dance with me, or go off in a fit of temper. I fear the latter. God, I hope he stays and lets me hold him, even if it’s just for a few moments. Before I have to retreat back to the reality and I am made to hold his sister. If I can hold him first, then maybe I can forever imagine him in my arms, instead of her, and just maybe I can do as my mother bids.

Although, it still won’t be willingly.

He’s holding his hands up as if he thinks I’m going to dance the female part? Is he kidding me? But I’ve decided I really want to dance with him, don’t ask me why. My mind isn’t working quite right at the moment. No comment. I scowl at him even as I place my hands daintily into his and our bodies begin to move together.

“You will not date my sister.” There, I’ve told him, and put my foot down at the same time. Oops, I didn’t just step on his toes, did I? No, I don’t think I did, anyway.

Funny, but he doesn’t really seem upset that I’ve just forbidden him to do what he came here to do. Why not? I’m confused.

“I wish that could be true,” he admits, pulling back from me long enough to demonstrate some fancy footwork, before resuming his place beside me once again. “Unfortunately, my mother and yours have different ideas. This wasn’t exactly what I’d planned to do with the rest of my life either, you know.” He takes my  hands, and we find that our steps are perfectly coordinated, as if we’ve practiced them. Of course, we haven’t. What do our bodies know that we don’t?

I must say that his hands feel very nice. And he smells good too. Wait just a minute here, why am I going along with this? Because for some reason my cock is telling me to? “Then the solution seems simple to me,” I reply, tossing my head in a light and airy movement. Too bad I didn’t wear long jangly earrings, that would have been a nice effect. “So simple, surely even one of you can see it. Just say no. N. O. No. See?”

He seems to find my words amusing, for some reason. His laughter seems almost mirthless. “Even one of us, as you so delicately put it, does not say no to our ruler. I could hardly go against not only my ruler’s wishes but yours as well, could I? Unfortunately , I’m not allowed to throw temper tantrums and stomp my pretty little feet to get my way.” He touches his finger to my arm, smiling at me. I think I may have just been insulted, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I am the prince.” Doesn’t he realize that I am allowed to act as I please?

“Yes, you are,” he replies in a voice that is going right through me and around me, but I don’t understand why that is. Only that I want him to keep touching me. “And quite a lovely prince at that. Unfortunately that still doesn’t give me the power to go against our parents, I’m here for your sister, even though I wish it would be otherwise.”

It’s time I regained some measure of control here, before I completely lose it to this… this… native person. With a damn sexy smile. “Do you know you have an unfortunate habit of saying unfortunate?” I riposte, before his words echo back in my ears and I really hear them. “Wait, what do you mean, you wish it could be otherwise? What are you suggesting?” He turns slightly, our thighs manage to bump together, and suddenly I feel as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Reno sighs, very prettily. I have to refrain from holding him against my breast and offering him comfort. We’re in public, after all. I’m still surprised that I’m actually dancing with one of the locals, here, in front of everyone. I follow his glance, seeking a clue to his sigh, and then I do a double take as I see his brother leading my sister out onto the dance floor. Wait, should she be doing that?

“What I’m saying is that your sister’s lovely and I would never wish to insult her, but the truth is I am not attracted to females. My mother is aware of this and yet here I am.”

I try to keep them in view, even as Reno rotates me, almost missing a step. I recover quickly, noticing that Luci and the brother are dancing far too closely for my liking. But maybe that can turn out to be a good thing, I’m not sure. “Damn straight she’s lovely,” I tell him “If you were ever to insult her, I’d be forced to kill you and that would be a waste of a fucking hot sexy man like yourself.” Did I really just say that? Where is my mind? Is it completely in my cock?

His jaw drops, as if I’ve just surprised him, but he quickly recovers. “You could try, but I wouldn’t really recommend it. My people may not care for violence, but it doesn’t mean we can’t defend ourselves. Besides, I like that pretty head right where it is, firmly attached to your shoulders.” He runs a finger down my neck and before I can react, he takes my hand and spins me out, like a top. My skirt floats about me prettily, and I feel a definite breeze against my hot nether regions, and then he draws me in again, and I feel myself being held tightly against him, my back to his chest, our arms crossed together. I could not wish to be in a better position at this moment.

My head is reeling, and all I can manage to say is, “Oh my.” It’s a weak statement, yeah, but I’m trying to make some sense out of what’s happening. My body reacts first, and I’m grinding backwards against this man who holds me. I suspect if I try, I might just find something back there which will be a big clue as to how this Reno is feeling about things. About me. Actually, I want to find it, very much.

I hear his groan, his breath is warm against my ear. So why is he spinning me out again? I want to feel him so badly.


I had to do it. I had to get him out of my embrace. I mean, the slightest step to the right and he’d have been grinding his ass right against my hard cock, and I’m barely controlling myself as it is. I’ve no wish to embarrass either one of us, before the guests, or his parents. I find I’m not willing to lose touch with him for long, however, as I reel him back into my arms, and we resume the steps of the dance. “Do we dare go somewhere private for this… conversation?” I whisper for his ears alone.

I can see that I’ve confused him. He’s probably used to being the one in charge, but he’s never been with me before, has he? I feel him virtually melting against me, and he’s not objecting, so I guess he doesn’t mind. Oh gods, I can feel my body throbbing and pulsing, and he’s trembling, sending my desires soaring. How long can I hold out, keep from expressing my desire for him? Oh yes, he’s speaking.

“The question is do we dare stay here and have this, um, conversation? I opt for moving our… words… to the terrace. Why don’t I show you my… blossoms?

Is that meant to be a euphemism? I certainly hope so.

 “You show me your blossoms and I’ll show you mine.” I make an executive decision; taking the lovely prince’s hand, I guide him off the dance floor and through a few scattered people out to the terrace. There’re a few other like-minded people, scattered about the garden, not close enough to be annoying. I glance about, choosing a tree with long droopy branches. I pull him into its shade, hiding us away from prying eyes. He certainly isn’t struggling. I get the feeling that he’s no innocent. Good.

As I kiss him, I hear his faint protest of, “I’m the prince,” but even as he speaks the feeble words, his body is quite hard against mine, and I’ve reason to believe that what he does, he does most willingly.

I bury my fingers into his hair and hold his head close. Our lips graze over each other, in askance, pleading for—needing more, then sealing as my moan disappears into the depths of his mouth. I can’t believe that I’m actually holding the Prince this way. I’m dominating him, my lips on his—forcing him to my will and he’s letting me, encouraging me to take the lead. The heir to the throne and everything. Despite some of the rather rude and ignorant comments he’s spouted from this lovely mouth, as he’s grinding against my thigh, I  forgive him with thoughts of spanking his naughty ass when we’re alone, to teach him proper manners of course. I cannot get enough of this princeling, this beautiful human man. What in the world am I going to do? Who cares? My concerns fly away on the wind, with the breeze that ruffles the leaves of the tree. I feel his tongue diving into my mouth; I let him take command of the kiss, and I lose myself in him.

“We have to go somewhere else,” he murmurs into my lips, “somewhere more… horizontal… and definitely more comfortable.  I’m not about to lower my dignity by lying on the ground like a common peasant, how vulgar is that?” His hands snake beneath my skirt, I feel them moving up and up until he grasps me in his warm fingers. He’ll be surprised, I think, when he actually sees what it looks like. “I’d say my place or yours, but yours is simply out of the question.

I let the obvious insult go in the name of international relations, and the painful ache in my cock. “Yes, my Prince,” I respond, “I’d say mine is quite out of the question. Besides, I don’t think I’d care to ride a horse with that under my skirt.” Meaning my erection, of course. I decide turn about is fair play, and I reach beneath his the white satin flounces to palm his own growing hardness. I lean in to nibble his lower lip as I stroke his length, allowing him to grind against my palm. “So, do you want to drop to your knees, your highness? Oh, but then you would get grass stains on those pretty knees.” Funny, it sounds sarcastic, but I really do mean it. He couldn’t return to the party with such undignified marks on his person. I would never embarrass him in such a manner.

Although he is writhing against me like he’s about to lose his princely mind, the Prince’s eyes snap open, and I hear the indignation in his voice at my suggestion. “Drop to my knees?” But the rest of my words mollify him and he proceeds to melt further into my embrace. “I would have you carry me to my room.” Well, if that doesn’t sound rather submissive, I don’t know what does. He’s gazing at me with lust-glazed eyes—I love it.

to be continued

Don't forget to visit Sui's blog, 2 Cents, and our join blog, Backdoor Divas.

Be sure to come back next week for more of the Kay and Reno show! Feel free to leave advice, comments, criticisms, or suggestions. We'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie and Sui

Friday, July 29, 2011

Heartless (Parasol Protectorate #4) Review

Heartless (Parasol Protectorate #4)   
Author: Gail Carriger
Publisher: Orbit Books
American release date: July 1, 2011
Format/Genre/Length: Novel/Paranormal Steampunk/374 pages
Publisher/Industry Age Rating: NR/Suitable for teens and up
Overall Personal Rating : ☆☆☆☆

It seems that Alexia’s unexpected (and hitherto considered impossible) pregnancy has thrown the supernatural world into something of a tizzy (now that her husband has removed his head from his nether regions long enough to realize that the child is indeed his and none other’s). But it seems they have a plan. Lord Maccon, Lord Akeldama, and Professor Lyall, that is. They’ve been hatching their idea for five months, and have decided that now’s a good time to let Alexia in on their little scheme. (Nice of them, considering it’s her child they’re talking about). In light of the fact that Alexia has become the target of numerous annoying and inconvenient assassination attempts, she must give the child up. To Lord Akeldama;s care.



Not surprisingly (except in the minds of the three gentlemen in question), Alexia does not fall in with their plan with handclapping and enthusiastic cheers. Rather, she’s totally against it. What mother would wish such a thing, to give up her child from birth? Really, gentlemen, be serious! But, with time to think, she, as always, has a better plan, one that will have the same result and not get her thrown out of her child’s life at one and the same time.

Alexia’s idea is to relocate herself and her husband into the townhouse next to Lord Akeldama’s, and to have a secret access to his home whereby they actually will live in his home, near their child, but for appearance’s sake, their address will be next door. Simple, eh? The hive’s fear centers around the child and what he or she may be capable of—namely their destruction. They feel that if said child were to be under Lord A’s tutelage, said crisis could be averted. However, just because a decision is reached doesn’t mean everyone has gotten the memo, and for now the attacks continue. Including one involving zombie hedgehogs.

Nothing in Alexia’s life is ever easy. Young Biffy, formerly one of Lord Akeldama’s drones (and the love of his life), now part of the Woolsey pack, is not adapting to his new condition well, and causes a great deal of trouble around the time of the full moon. Alexia’s sister, Felicity Loontwill, has taken it into her head to espouse women’s suffrage, and decides now, of all times, that she must be independent and free—while living with and dependent upon her sister. Madame Lefoux seems troubled to Alexia, but she isn’t sure why and the inventor isn’t confiding. Perhaps it is because her beloved aunt, Formerly Lefoux, the ghost, is about to end all existence at any time. But what is that derby-shaped contraption in Genevieve’s basement all about?

Then there is the ghost who shows up unexpectedly with a message for Alexia, warning of danger to the queen. Just when Alexia is in need of her wits the most, she finds that her advanced pregnancy has addled them, not to mention her increased bulk makes getting about fairly difficult at times. Especially when under fire. But that doesn’t keep her from impersonating a cook in search of unemployment, as she and Floote scuttle about the neighborhood, searching for clues.

Can anything else possibly go wrong in Alexia’s life?

Of course it can…


The fourth volume in the Parasol Protectorate series is every bit as engaging as its predecessors, filled with the wit, the action, the suspense and the manners which we’ve come to expect from Gail Carriger. I have to say that as a mother, the solution which the gentlemen proposed at the beginning of the book set my teeth on edge. I understand why Alexia compromised as she did, but I would never be happy with such an arrangement, and I’d fight tooth and nail to keep my child. That being said, I have hopes that something will happen in the final volume to allow the family a normal life. That’s a relative term, by the way, as we are talking about a preternatural and a werewolf here, and who knows what the child will be?

My next consideration of ponderance is why on earth Biffy and Lord Akeldama can’t still be together, even if they are different species? Alexia and Conall manage quite well. It’s a matter of the heart, and if they work at it, I don’t see why it can’t be done. Perhaps the answer will lie in the next book.

Gail Carriger has drawn her characters superbly. Each and everyone pops out at you distinctly; there’s no mistaking one for another. Even the annoying ones, such as Felicity (whom I wish to beat down on a regular basis). At least we are spared the presence of Alexia’s insipid Mama and the rest of her mindless brood. Please let that last!

Carriger has given new meaning and depth to the steampunk genre, combining it with paranormal romance and coming up with one whale of a tale. Alexia Tarabotti Maccon is one of the best heroines ever. Were I ever to find myself in a fight, I’d definitely want her on my side. And her hubby certainly gives new meaning to the phrase sexy beast!

I read somewhere that there’s been a bit of dissension regarding the novel’s cover. I must say that I quite like the colors, and think they are rather fitting. I also like the backdrop of Woolsey.

I highly recommend this series to everyone. I’m greatly looking forward to the next volume; I’m sorry that it will be the last. However, take heart. Another series is about to begin—The Finishing School. I’m sure it shall be great fun too! Rest assured, I shall review that as well.

It's Follow Friday time!

Hello and happy Follow Friday, as sponsored by Hope you're having a great day! Let's go right to the heart of the matter - the question!

Q. Let's step away from books for a second and get personal. What T-Shirt slogan best describes you?

Have to think on that way, I don't tend to wear T-shirts with messages. But let's say I do (when I'm not wearing Sirius Black), I think this would be a good one.

Scary, eh?

Happy Follow Friday!

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Guest Blogger SL Danielson Returns!

I'm sitting in Laumeier Sculpture Park with my friend and co-author SL Danielson, taking advantage of the relative coolness of the morning to enjoy some fresh air. She's come back to talk about a couple of things, including her newest release, which is a combo volume of two previous releases - For the Heart of Phillip, and The Refugees. Plus her newest venture, coming soon. We stopped at QT and got some huge drinks, so while we sip at those, SL, why don't you go ahead and start.

Good morning, Jules, readers.

Why don't  you make your book announcement first?

Announcing...Broken Promises...(For the Heart of Phillip and Refugees combined into one book)! 

For those that want one long, continuous story of how these four men's lives are changed through the heartache, the triumphs, the lust, the love, and finally....the happiness.

Coming Sat, July 30th to Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks and Amazon! (also on Lulu for those who want a really big paperback)!

Blurb: (For the Heart of Phillip)  Phillip Marnier; a sweet, loving, wonderful boy who knew he was gay from the age of 13. He was also very shy, until he met Andrew, a similarly shy boy at school. As they grew older, the feelings deepened and surfaced. Andrew had fallen for Phillip!

However, all was not well. Phillip had found another, Robert. Devastated, Andrew dismissed the friendship and stays away. The couple stays together until college, even talking about marriage! Then, who shows up? Andrew! He has forgiven Phillip and wants him back in his life. Then fate intervenes on one stormy night and shakes up everything! Suddenly Robert is out of his life, Andrew is in!

Andrew and Robert are locked in combat for the heart of the one they love more than anything, but only one can win. 

Who will win the heart of Phillip?

Blurb: (The Refugees) Sequel to “For the Heart of Phillip”. This tale picks up where the other left off; except following the two men who were left behind with broken hearts, Robert and David.
Robert, who lost his battle for the heart of Phillip, and David, who lost out on his chance with Andrew.
Can they bond together over their shared pain and heartbreak or will the ‘old feelings’ come back to haunt them again after a crisis happens with one of their exes?
Buckle up for a dramatic ride in these two men’s lives who go from strangers to friends to lovers to who –knows-what!

So now, SL, you've combined these two books into one volume you're calling Broken Promises. Care to show us the new cover? 

Now tell us about your new venture!

Also... eagerly awaiting the formation of my new company Romance First Publishing; slated to start in September or October of this year (pending govt. approval). It's astounding to me how many forms it takes to start a simple business! I have to go through the local govt, state govt, and even federal! I have to get a tax id#, state sales tax permission, register the name, have our house inspected, and of course...actually find the time to do this! 

School has invaded much of my time; still on course to finish in April, 2012. Hubby wants me to hold on new biz until then; but I feel the iron is hot and with our country going down the proverbial tubes financially; I feel they'll make it even harder for anyone to form a biz. So... do it now!

In other news...and very stoked about it is the finishing of my 2nd book with very good bud Julie Hayes! (your gracious blog hostess)! "Leaving His Mark" has finished the 1st hurdle at just over 68K words and we are already entrenched in part #2! It's a sweet tale of two Georgia teen boys who seem to rebuff each other at first, but finally get under all the layers and they find some semblance of happiness. Of course...there's always something and several someones in the way of that...

We're submitting it soon so cross your fingers!

And there you have it, readers! Well, you certainly do keep busy, don't you SL? Not that that's a bad thing, mind you, it certainly isn't. Looking forward to getting a copy of Broken Promises myself.

Thanks for joining me here today, why don't we walk over to the giant eyeball sculpture and eyeball it?  Do you have any burning questions for SL? Comments? Say hello to her - she doesn't bite!  We'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Silver Flash: Lust Never Sleeps 4: Relativity and the Church

Happy Wednesday! If it's Hump Day, it must be time for another Silver Flash, brought to you by the authors of Silver Publishing, and illustrated by the amazing Reese Dante! This week's prompts were provided by provided by myself as Prompt Diva of the week. They were: either use "color of night" or "caveat emptor". Ryssa gave us the alternative prompt: to use "school, candle and elixir". I managed to use them all.    Last week, as you'll recall, in Lust Never Sleeps, Darryl and Sawyer ended up at the church, asking to use Sister Sue's phone. This week the story continues. As usual, the links to my fellow Flashers appears at the end of my blog. Without further ado I now give you

Relativity and the Church

If Darryl had anticipated an argument from the stunning nun, he’d calculated erroneously, for she ushered them inside without comment, other than to bid Sawyer close the door behind them. In her hand, she held a lit candle, shielding it from the momentary breeze their arrival had stirred. 

“Some things never change, do they, Sawyer?” Sister Sue’s smile was dazzling; Darryl wondered if in her other life, before she became a bride of Christ, she’d been a cover model. He also wondered what her relationship with the sexy Sawyer was.

Take a deep breath and try to come back to reality. Before he completely lost it over this virtual stranger. Assuming it wasn’t too late already.

“Could be,” Sawyer replied enigmatically. “Maybe you’re thinking of when we were in school.” He offered her a cheeky smile which made Darryl ache on the inside, almost painfully.

The nun slapped Sawyer lightly on his arm, mindful of the candle. “It’s always the same with  you, don’t even tell me it’s not. And you don’t fool me with that I want to use your phone crap, either. You’re never without your cell. You want a favor, don’t you? C’mon.”

Without waiting for a response, she led them into the church itself. Darryl was amazed at the size of the place; from the outside it hadn’t looked near this big. He’d never seen such beautiful stained glass in his life. And the statuary… It appeared to be almost lifelike, exquisitely carved from the most beautiful materials he could imagine—translucent alabaster and what appeared to be Carrara marble.

He was drawn to one statue in particular; it was almost hidden behind a Corinthian column. The handsome face of the statue held a distinct resemblance to… He glanced between the marble and Sawyer with undisguised confusion.

Sawyer simply smiled and reached for Darryl’s hand. He gave it willingly.

Sister Sue led them to the back of the church, behind the altar, pulling back a beautiful Flemish tapestry to reveal a door recessed so cleverly that it was almost invisible to the naked eye. From there she proceeded to take them into a private room, paneled in rich dark mahogany, even finer tapestries strewn about its walls. Not to mention ornamental pieces in gold and silver and beautiful jewel tones. She waved them into chairs, taking her place behind an ornate desk.

Darryl took a seat, almost sinking into the soft leather of the well-upholstered armchair, while Sawyer went directly to a cabinet, removing a cut-glass decanter. He turned toward Sister Sue. “Two or three?” he inquired.

“What do you think?”

He brought out three fluted glasses, set them on the rich wood and began to pour the dark liquid. Darryl thought that the liquor was the color of night itself, rich and soft and velvety. He hadn’t known fluids could assume such mysterious hues. “What is this?” he asked, but received no immediate answer.

Sawyer placed one glass into the nun’s outstretched hand, before pulling his chair very close to Darryl’s, as close as he could manage without being in his lap. He took a seat, handed Darryl a glass of the divine elixir, but before he could drink, the beautiful blond had twined his arm through Darryl’s, bringing his own glass to his lips.

“To what shall we drink, my sweet?” he asked.

Darryl momentarily lost command of the English language at those liquidly sexy tones, and he uttered the first words that came to mind. “To us?”

Jesus, how predictable, inane, and utterly inappropriate!

But Sawyer didn’t seem to mind, echoing the words, a vibrancy in his voice that was close to driving Darryl insane with lust. “To us.”

The nun cleared her throat. “Hello? Try to remember I’m here, and please do focus, Sawyer.”

“I am,” he returned, his eyes never leaving Darryl’s face.

“On the matter at hand, I meant, dearest brother.”


Darryl was even more confused than before. “Are you a monk?” he asked, trying to make sense of the nun’s use of the word brother. Sister Sue snickered.

“No,” Darryl smirked, “luckily for you, or it might be difficult for me to fuck your sweet brains out.”

“I don’t know, some priests manage quite well,” the nun interjected.

Both men turned their heads; she offered them a cheesey smile.

“Welcome to the modern church,” Sawyer quipped. “And now you know my deepest darkest secret. This is my sister, the Sister. Sue, say hello to Darryl.”

Oh, so he does remember my name. The thought made Darryl happy. Why did he suspect that Sawyer Thomas possessed worse secrets?

“So what’s up now, brother of mine?” Sue repeated her question. “What kind of trouble are you in, and how have you gotten this dear sweet innocent boy involved?”

“What makes you think he’s innocent?” Sawyer countered.

“Because he’s still with you? Once they find out, most of them run screaming for their lives. Obviously, he’s still a newbie, and therefore innocent. Looks like he still has stars in his eyes.”

“I resent that.” Sawyer’s tone belied his words.

“Resent away.” She shrugged. “Hello, Darryl, what has my little brother gotten you into?”

“Well, um… we met at a bar… he asked me about a French accent… and then there were two men… and diamonds… and a gypsy…” His story sounded very incoherent, even to himself. What did she mean? What others?  Just what had he gotten himself into? Damned if he knew.

Sister Sue downed the contents of her glass in one well-practiced chug, then sighed.

“Seriously, Sawyer? Why are you bothering with those two? You know they only bring trouble.”

Sawyer shrugged, setting his glass on her desk, which earned him a tsk as she shoved a coaster toward him.

“Caveat emptor,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “I can handle them.”

“Oh yes, past experience has shown me that.” She snorted.  “So tell me, what do you want?”

“Your car, sister of mine. We need to make a flight.”

to be continued

Don't forget to sneak a peek at my fellow Flashers:

Sui Lynn     m/m
Ryssa Edwards     m/m
Lindsay Klug     m/m
Lily Sawyer     m/m
Heather Lin     m/f
Victoria Blisse     m/f

Join us next week for more flash fiction from the Silver Flashers! Have any comments, suggestions? Something you'd like to see? Perhaps a prompt you'd like played out? We'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Sci Fi Sunday - Reality Check Continues

Hello and welcome to another edition of Sci Fi Sunday! Today more of the continuing saga of Reality Check, the sci fi story that I am co-penning with my friend and fellow author Sui Lynn. We hope that you are enjoying the adventures of Reno and Kay. Don't be shy to tell us what you think! We'd love to hear from you! Please enjoy!

Reality Check - Chapter Two, continued

The reception is an unqualified success. There is no doubt that I am the belle of the ball!

People have come from all over the planet just to welcome me home. And why not? I’ve been gone for four long years. I’m very pleased to see them all, even if some of them have come with what I consider to be dishonorable intentions—that is, the wooing of my baby sister. She’s too young to be thinking in terms of marriage yet. She’s barely gotten into long skirts, for crying out loud. Give her a chance to grow up first before you marry her off, Mother. What’s the rush? She has time. I’m the heir, after all. And even I am not ready to be wed.

Everyone’s very happy to see me, and I am showered with compliments and accolades and hugs. And compliments on my ensemble. I haven’t been hugged this much since I left home. I’m here to tell you this is one touchy feely planet. I’m not surprised, though. They all love me—I’m their darling crown prince. And I’m without question the most beautiful person here.

There is only one blemish that mars the beauty of my homecoming, and he’s here too, unfortunately. Orm Schlangeleben. My father’s vizier and personal adviser. I consider him no better than a wart upon my father’s hand—just about as attractive, and with a similar personality. A nastier man I never met. He has a nose large enough to bathe a small child in, and all of the charm of a sexually transmitted disease. Why my father cannot see that there is something wrong with him, I do not know. When I am king, I shall certainly dispense with the bastard’s services. Not that I am anxious for that to happen any time soon, but waiting for my father to see the truth about this man seems to be a losing proposition. I only wish he’d listen to me about him, but of course he doesn’t, for Father knows best.

The reception encompasses several of the public rooms of the palace, in order to accommodate the large number of guests that are attending. But it’s nothing that the staff can’t handle. They’re trained to do just this sort of thing—receptions, grand dinners, affairs of state. Sometimes at a moment’s notice.  Only the best for the Royal family, don’t you know? Off-world visitors may be scarcer now than they once were, but there are plenty of people that come from the other cities on-planet. Even on days when there is nothing particularly grand going on, people float in and out of the palace for other reasons—seeking to have boons granted, wishes fulfilled, quests blessed. The usual.

My parents hold court in their throne room, which doubles tonight as a ballroom. The dancing will begin here soon. I look forward to that greatly. I’ve managed to get in some dancing while away at university, but not near enough. And I miss the native dances of our people. There is something so very elegant in the movements, something so very majestic—the steps are ingrained in me from childhood, back to the days when my mother was my first dance partner. I know that I was an apt pupil. I can hear the royal orchestra playing even now. Some things never change, praise the stars.

The Blommervermogens have been the ruling family on Rhealliticzk since long before I was born. My father’s father was king, and his father before him, and so on for generations. The current reign of King Liefde and Queen K√¶rlighed has been an enlightened and popular one. My parents are a very loving and handsome couple. Luci and I have never lacked for anything, especially their love. I hope to be as blessed when it is my turn to rule, and that the people love me even half as well as them.

I feel a rumbling in my intestines, and it occurs to me that in the excitement of preparing for this event, I have neglected to eat. Well, that is easily remedied. I follow my nose in the direction of the heavenly aromas which emanate from the dining hall. Relief for my hunger is but a few steps away!

A magnificent buffet has been set up which contains some of the finest foods our world has to offer. And yes, many are my favorites, as I had anticipated.  I smile regally at everyone I meet along my path, my eyes affixed upon the feast before me. I still manage to offer them my usual blessing—the one reserved for the Royal Family. Two fingers, pointing toward my eyes, then toward the subject. This is to indicate that we are always watching out for our people. There is also a single blessing, involving but one finger, the middle one in fact, held alone and held high, to indicate the pride of the Blommervermogens. That one is my favorite.

Oh my.  I see some of the roast hens I’ve been dying for. I know these have been chosen with me in mind. The chef has prepared them just the way I like them, with the multi-colored feathers arranged like a luscious rainbow around the bird, for dipping purposes, presented with a small dish containing a piquant sauce for dipping. My mouth is already watering at the sight. I could command one of the servants to make a plate for me—all I need do is snap my fingers and say it and it will be done—but since I’m already standing here, and since I really don’t want to wait,  I think I’ll help myself, just this once, and….

Hel-lo! What the hell? Just as I reach for one of the delicate little birds, I find myself yanked unceremoniously away from the table, hand poised in mid-air.  I stumble after the interloper, one hand going automatically to my beret, which is in danger of falling from my head, the other to my skirt.   I think I’ve probably just given everyone in my immediate vicinity a quick peep at the royal jewels, as my skirt flips up for a second. Maybe two or three, even. I know, I can feel the sudden breeze upon my nether regions. There’s only me underneath, you know, in all my glory. Now I’m sure that the guests’ll be salivating for more than the food.

Damn, but Luci’s gotten strong. When did that happen? By the time I regain my balance, and manage to find some of my lost dignity, we’re already in the ballroom, and people are staring at us. What has she done to me? Is my hair out of place or what? Is my make-up gone awry? I’m torn between snapping at my sister or examining whatever damage she’s done to my appearance. I opt for the latter.

Swyddogh hastens to my side—apparently she took him by surprise as well—and I quickly take stock of my looks in the mirror he produces for my use.  I turn my head first one way, then the other, smoothing my hair back as I do so. At least my make-up isn’t smudged, as I’m not carrying my extra with me and I’d hate to return to my room to fix my face, but I will if I have to. Everything seems to be in place, luckily, and I smile at my reflection. I nod to Swyddogh and he returns the mirror to its place of concealment.

Now to find out the reason for this imposition.

“What was the meaning of that!” I expostulate, my stomach growling, lending its support to my righteous indignation. But I stop in mid-complaint as I take a good hard look at my sister. She’s wearing a long gold gown which flows all the way to the floor, and her red-gold hair is woven into delicate plaits which frame her heart-shaped face, and the pale rose hat she is wearing is incredibly cute, decorated with small blue stones which gleam as they catch the gaslight. My stomach does a back flip as I realize that I’m going to have to watch out for her, very carefully, lest she be stolen away from us. My little sister has truly grown up.

“Kay!” she whines, clutching at my arm, digging her nails into my wrist. “Stay with me, please! I don’t want to be courted. Not yet!”

“Very well,” I grumble, my dreams of food dissipating in view of the tears which threaten to mar my sister’s beauty. Some homecoming. I can’t even eat. But Luci needs me, so I can hardly complain, now can I?

At least not here and now.

“Just what is it you want me to do, Luci?” I sigh.

“Just stay with me and meet the suitors that are here to meet me. Hopefully there won’t be too many of them. You know men better than I do, brother. Look them over and help me determine which are worthy men and which are no better than Klytemnestrian saarbuckets!”

To say I am shocked by my sister’s language is an understatement, but before I get a chance to ask her where the doogle blazes she learned those words, Swyddogh is digging his elbow into my side, so I have to pause and glare at him instead.

“Your parents are beckoning, your royal highness,” he whispers discreetly, and I withdraw my anger quickly. This is one of the things that I have him around for, to keep me on my toes and to remind me of where I should be.

“Thanks, Swy.” I glance toward the thrones, where Father and Mother sit. Father does indeed have a finger crooked toward us.  “Come, Luci.” This time I’m leading her, as we hasten across the room.

And now we stand. And stand. And stand. While a parade of idiots present themselves in all their borrowed finery and ogle my sister. It’s all I can do to keep from punching each and every one in his stupid face. But I can say without hesitation that none of them are worthy of the honor of courting my beloved little sister.

It is closer to the time of the dance, now, I can feel it—the music is reverberating through my feet. We must at least find Luci a suitable partner. I have been aware for some time now that some of the locals have been included as guests for this occasion. Two of them are staring at us now, rather openly, from across the room.

There can only be one reason for that. I preen at the knowledge of my attractiveness. As they begin to move toward us, I know instinctively what their purpose is. Now the question remains, what will my answer be? Will I actually dance with one of the locals? Or shall I turn him down? I can’t help but smirk, as I debate my decision.
“Okay Reno, remember you are here to attract her. Keep your mind on her and I think everything will be fine,” Jaou whispers in my ear as we look over the throng of people from the balcony.

“I know why we are here, Jaou,” I snipe back at him. My scent must be drifting onto the crowd, heads are beginning to turn as I knew they would. After having spent the day basking in the light of the guardian there is no way I wouldn’t be attractive even to these animals. Yet dressed up in their finery, many of them are attractive—in their own way. I nod discreetly at a few people I work with in the castle as they realize who Jaou and I are. The office of Interspecies Cooperation may be a farce as far as most people on both sides are concerned, but at least we try to keep relations smooth and communications open.

“Let’s make our way towards the throne. The Princess is there and we can make her acquaintance and our respects to the Royal Family at the same time,” Jaou suggests. It’s a good idea and although I’m reluctant, we might as well get this over with right up front. I let Jaou lead me down the stairs and we venture towards the Royal family, who are greeting the line of their guests.

I hear the orchestra playing in the distance. Oh great, dancing. I’ll probably have to dance with her. It’s not that I can’t dance, I’ve been known to be rather light on my feet, but the only female I’ve ever danced with would be my mother. I suppose dancing with her won’t be much different than dancing with anyone else, as long as it isn’t a slow dance where I’m required to hold her close. Gods, what is my mother thinking. There’s no way I can be with a woman, the very idea repulses me.

It’s started of course, the murmuring and whispering of voices as Jaou and I make our way across the floor. The crowd parts before us like water before the prow of a boat. All eyes turn to us as we approach. Even guests waiting in line to pay their respects step back and allow us to proceed before them. Actually I wouldn’t have minded waiting at the back of the line for our turn, but my brother grabs my elbow and as the others step back, he propels me forward. I keep my eyes downcast. I don’t need to make eye contact with anyone other than the Royal family. I don’t want anyone to misinterpret my glance and think that the state I’m currently in is for them.

“Well, well. The little princeling is home and all dressed up. He sure makes a pretty picture, too bad he doesn’t have a brain behind all that plumage,” Jaou whispers for my ears only. At the foot of the dais, I take a deep breath and finally raise my eyes, locking them not on the Princess, but the Prince. Jaou wasn’t kidding, he is quite attractive and I can see that he’s completely aware of his beauty. Having chosen white, he stands out not only from the crowd but from every other guest in the hall. To my amazed eyes, none look more beautiful. Unfortunately I’m not for him. He—even though he is rather conceited—would’ve been far preferable to the young woman at his side.

She’s a beautiful young woman, to be sure. Her golden gown sets off her appearance quite regally, her long red tresses have been arranged beautifully. Were it not for her brother, and my predilections for men, she would be the belle of the ball.

“Isn’t she beautiful, brother?” Jaou whispers as we wait for the two men before us to speak their piece. My brother should have been mother’s choice for this pretty princess, as he does prefer females, unlike me. So why me, I can’t help but wonder again.

“I suppose so,” I whisper back, barely able to glance at her, after dragging my eyes away from the Princeling. Then it’s our turn. Jaou, being my second speaks for me. We bow in synch with one another and with all the grace our father has taught us.

“Greetings King Liefde and Queen Kaerlighed, from the court of the First Mother Fatinalalinalea Sameeleon. I am the first son, Jaouseptanetah Sameeleon and this is my brother and third son, Renophoatien Sameeleon. At your service.” Jaou formally greets them. “We are here to celebrate your son’s return and to request that my brother be given formal permission to pay court to your daughter.”

to be continued

Thank you for joining us, come back next Sunday for more of Sci Fi Sunday. Feel free to leave comments, questions or anything else you can think of!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie and Sui