Saturday, July 23, 2011

Guest Blogger Michael Mandrake

Welcome back my friend and fellow author, Michael Mandrake, aka Rawiya, who is going to talk to us today about what it feels like to be different, to be the only one. I'm sure a lot of us can relate to that, I know I can. Michael and I are in our Scottish Highland getaway, so join us there, won't you? I'm going to get us something to drink, I just spotted a handsome fellow in a tartan kilt pass by, why don't you get started? I might be a few, I'm curious to see what's not under his skirt. Right back!



Being the Only One
Michael Mandrake











Quote from the Highlander. “There can be only one!”

You remember that quote right? Where Adrian Paul’s character Duncan MacLeod says that and then he chops off the other immortal’s head? God, I loved that show and erm, I love Adrian Paul.

*swoons*

Oh yeah, my point.

How do I feel about being the only one in some instances? Well, we could take this in a negative way and say, oh well you were the oddball and maybe no one really wanted you so they left you alone or you can take it positively and say, oh that person found me unique and so different from the others, he or she had to choose me.

Again, you may ask, what does this have to do with my blogpost? Well, I’ll tell you. In the book Bound for Romance, which is the latest anthology from Sascha Illyvich through Sizzler Intoxications, E-Renaissance’s romance line, my story “Binding Justice” is the only gay tale.



Ah, you say. SO how do you feel about this?

In all honesty, I felt at first it would be an issue. I thought, maybe I’d get lost in the shuffle or get ignored and actually, that might still happen but because I do like to see the bright side of things, I thought this to be a prime opportunity.

Before I get to the rest of my point, let me just say that I’m surrounded by huge talent. Em Petrova, Clarice Clique, and Sarah Bella. I read the antho and it’s a great mix, much like the last one I did for Sascha, My Sexy Valentine. However, in there, I had Ike Rose as the other m/m writer in the collection. This time I’m the lone ranger. *grins*

If I can take a moment to give my editor props, I really love writing for him. He doesn’t bullshit me, he cares about me and my career, and I listen to everything he tells me. Still working on doing everything exactly right but…

When I first said to him—and this was recently—how I felt swallowed by being the only gay author in Bound for Romance, he said, in short, to look at it as an opportunity to showcase my work in a mainstream setting. If people want to follow Michael Mandrake, they will buy it regardless of the fact it’s in a hetero antho and well, I had to think, yeah he’s right. Then I also started thinking how I could possibly turn someone on to m/m that hasn’t read it or, as he said, get someone interested in finding out more about Michael Mandrake. I also thought this means, I’m the unique one in this bunch, not slamming my fellow authors, but it does set me apart and maybe it means my editor saw the potential in my work and needed to add me along with this awesome collection.

Now, there are the negatives that gay fiction purists will point out. The cover doesn’t denote an m/m story. I said that too so believe me, I did think about it, but again, it is the opportunity to open the eyes of someone who only reads het romance and let him or her get to know MM’s writing and hopefully seek out his growing backlist. *grins*

So the great thing about being the only one? The one that stands out like a sore thumb? The one m/m story where people will still appreciate the erotic romance with all the tension you can handle, and the one that breaks the mold of most bondage or BDSM stories. Again, Michael accentuates the flaws of his characters and this means, his Dom, Sire Jacobs isn’t experienced. Neither is sub, Jarvis Densley. Hopefully, you’ll love the tale and see why I signed the contract to be the lone gay romance tale.

I’d like to thank Julie for allowing me to be here today!

Here is where you can find me and the muses.

The Literary Triad - http://www.thelitriad.com/#!
Michael Mandrake - http://tabooindeed.blogspot.com
Its Raining Men Blog - http://rainingmenamen.blogspot.com

Now, here is the blurb and excerpt from my story, Binding Justice


Blurb: Binding Justice, the only gay fiction romance story in the anthology, is a tale of an older man seeking assistance after losing his wife to cancer. Throughout his life, he has had the desire to be with another man, but due to his strict upbringing as well as his time in the armed forces, Sire Jacobs has suppressed those feelings. At the insistence of his gay friend Gabe, he decides to attend a party to find someone home who can bring this side out. Enter in Jarvis Densley, a twenty-three-year-old gay male, shunned by his parents and looking for someone to mentor and love him. Apparently, both have similar interests but will Sire's darker desire be what keeps them apart?



Excerpt PG
Sire felt like an old man amongst so many young people. It had been years since he’d been in a place like this. 

I’m only here in support of Gabriel.

He reminded himself of that several times. Sire was pretty sure no one coming through that door would catch his eye. By the looks of things he was spot on since the clientele looked to be exactly what he wasn’t looking for.

Did he even know what kind of man he wanted? A young, strong, and pretty one. Not a drag queen or flamer.  

It amazed him he was going over this in his mind as he downed the last of his scotch while still taking in the sights. He never thought he’d get the chance to experience another man.

Still gazing, he noticed Gabe pulling someone’s hand through a crowd. When Sire locked eyes with Gabe, his friend nodded with a smile as the young man with him was turned to the right. After a couple of seconds, Sire got a glimpse of the guy. He was dressed in leather, looking very appealing even from a distance.

Whoa

Sire sat up on his stool, angling his neck trying to get a good look as the twosome threaded through small throngs of people. Before he knew it, Gabe made his way over with a tall, lanky, gentleman with burgundy hair, brown eyes, chiseled features, and a wry smile. He looked a lot like one of the men on the flyer Gabe had earlier; almost the same outfit, his makeup perfect.

His look was just what Sire wanted.

Gabe grinned, “Sire, this is Jarvis Densley. I been talking with him a few minutes about his choice of clothing. He looks a lot like you asked about, right?”

Sire drew up his lips, stroking his beard.

Jarvis Densley, ugly name for a beautiful man.



 And I'm back! Here you go, hon, I have a drink for each of us. And I managed to find out what was under that lovely man's kilt! Ah, the things we do for research. Guess I need to create my own Highlander now, eh?

Thanks for coming with me, Michael, this has been a fab trip!  Readers, don't be shy, tell us what you think - any comments, any questions, anything at all!

We'd love to hear from you!


Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Friday, July 22, 2011

Guest Blogger Elaine Lowe

Today I have  guest author Elaine Lowe - who is going to set me straight on my opinions regarding menages as not being romance! While we settle back in our beach chairs, drinks in hand, let's hear what she has to say, and let you, the reader, decide. 





A while back, I read a post where you were discussing the prevalence of the ménage a mucho and how that just isn’t romance. I think I may have just that perfect solution for your contemplation of the orgy book as romance. Although I’m the last person to deny folks their fantasies, the whole “seven horny guys share one lucky lady” genre didn’t really appeal to the romantic in me (and I followed one particular riveting #romfail read-along of a really craptastic one), and I certainly had no plans on writing such a book. Then, one day, I was struck with inspiration about having your fantasies and your beloved too…believe me, it’s much better than having that cake and eating it, and it works off a lot more calories.

I have to admit that it’s a rare M/F relationship that can stand the test of multiple partners, but that doesn’t stop that little voice of curiosity in the back of a woman’s brain, no matter how perfect our marriage might me. Enter that wonderful deus ex machine, MAGIC! Yes, magic, that fantastical solution. Hence, I had a great time writing my latest Ellora’s Cave Quickie, Magic Eights.

Susanna Walker Wong and her husband William are given an odd gift for their eighth anniversary, a Magic Eight ball. Susanna plays with it, makes a few errant wishes, and is more than a little bit shocked when two copies of her husband appear in her kitchen, calmly making dinner and washing up in perfect synchrony. When they seduce her, how can she say no? All in all, seven copies, one for each of her wishes, come to living, breathing life, and her husband comes out of the air conditioned comfort of their bedroom to watch everything unfold.

Magic Eights is a fun, sweaty, sexy bit of summer reading for the true romantic. I had so much fun writing it, and it actually has spawned an entire world in my imagination. I had to explain to myself what exact spell did Esme Morgan, the witch who gave Susanna that Magic Eight ball, use on Susanna and Will? The answer to that one opened up a whole universe of hidden magic, potential insanity, and the organization that cleans up the mess. I’ve just finished writing Memory Lapse, the next book in the series, about Anton Boroi, an unusual vampire, and the half-Fae woman he’s wooed for a century, Cynthia Margate. It’s Cynthia’s job to run an organization that keeps magic in check in our reality, and Anton’s not making it any easier, not when the human mage Esme Morgan could bring everything crashing around their heads any moment. Now is not the time to wake up in bed with Anton, covered with bite marks, having lost any memory of the last twenty four hours.

And don’t worry, Esme will be getting her own story told very soon, I promise.

Most of my books are historical romances with a touch of magic, be it the Regency period, Elizabethan, or the courts of the Mayan. It’s been fun to venture into contemporary paranormal, and I really hope you take a look at my books and enjoy.

It’s been a pleasure!

Elaine Lowe

Blurb:
A casual wish by a frustratingly horny wife results in a most unexpected bit of magic…

Susanna walks into her kitchen to see two copies of her husband of eight years, William. When they both seduce her, she’s helpless to resist. Who would want to? When another copy walks in and makes love to her, and another, she ceases to ask why, only, how much can she take?

Seven copies, one original, and all of them want to push her to the very brink. Can she handle them all? Sinful satisfaction is the best anniversary present, and eight is Susanna’s lucky number.

Excerpt: Blowing a frizzy strand of reddish-brown hair from in front of her face, Susanna Walker-Wong tried valiantly to relax into the suds of her bath. Truly soothing rose and chamomile scents floated into the hot air of the bathroom, and hot water always relaxed away the tension she held in her shoulders. But all these luxurious bubbles and steam didn’t really get to the core of her problem.

She was horny. Despite, or perhaps because of all the stresses in her life, she was ready to burst with the need for someone to touch her. Well, not just someone. It would be really fabulous if her husband would get a clue and look up from his computer screen long enough to notice her panting after him.

But instead, she took a bath. Really, she shouldn’t be this desperate. It was their eighth anniversary, and that morning their son had been taken to his grandparents’ house where he was likely being spoiled rotten. For lunch, she had been the entree and Will had worshipped her thoroughly before taking her out to a sumptuous dinner that they’d enjoyed and debated like the foodies they were. It should have been perfect, she should have been completely satisfied.

Her career was humming along, though she was only working on contract, part-time, with Nathan being only four years old and just starting preschool. Yeah, the dishes needed to be done, and there was yard-work that begged to be finished and the floor required vacuuming desperately. But if she ever finished her entire “to do” list, she’d be dead, right? She should be completely content.

So why was she absolutely burning with lust? Every time William breathed, she watched the rise and fall of his chest and wanted to tear off his T-shirt and run her hands over his pecs and lick his nipples until he groaned. She wanted to thread her hands in the blue-black of his unkempt hair and tousle it even more while she pulled his lips to hers. She wanted to knock his laptop to the ground and climb astride him and ride him until he screamed her name and woke up the neighbors in the next condo.

She moved slightly to get her shoulders deeper into the water and relieve the tension there. The soft rose scent of the bubbles fluttered up to try to console her, mixing with the subtle spiciness from Esme’s present. She sighed, her hands drifting over her clit, only to retreat quickly to her side when the door swung open.

Will stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the soap-obscured view of her naked body and flashing her a brief but devastating grin that still made her heart go pitter-patter.

“Hello, my water nymph. How do you find your bath? And is that incense I smell?” He turned away from her and to the toilet, nonchalantly taking a piss, while she observed the curve of his ass in the ancient pair of khaki shorts that he wore.

“Bath’s searing hot, just like this nymph likes it. And no, the scent is something Esme sent us for our anniversary.” She looked him up and down. “Care to join me?” Her voice dripped with invitation, but she knew he didn’t share her particular fetish for baths.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! It’s like ninety-five in the house, and it’s only going to get hotter. How you can stand to take a hot bath in this weather is beyond my ken!” With a drip and a zip and a quick wash of his hands, he turned back to her, his eyes eating her up and making her throb even more than she had been. With his dark shining eyes carrying that edge of lust and his wicked goatee reminding her how much she liked the drag of his chin against her thighs, she was practically melting with need for him. But she didn’t let it show. 

Her appetite for him was simply ridiculous after all the years they’d been together and she’d never been completely comfortable letting it all out. He was everything she ever wanted, and she didn’t feel like scaring him off now.

Books:
Historical:
Contemporary:
Science Fiction:
Paranormal:




Bio:
Elaine Lowe is a work-at-home mom in Silicon Valley California. Of her many part-time jobs, her favorite one by far is writing. She has a background in biotech, but she has branched out into the demanding world of home management, toddler entertainment, transcription, envelope stuffing, and of course, writing romantic and erotic fiction.

A love of history, magic and romance combines to inspire a lot of her writing. That and her wonderful husband, who is a fantastic sounding board, support system, and research consultant. He really enjoys research. And so does she!










Thank you so much for joining me, Elaine - I love the premise of your "menage" - it puts a whole different spin on it, and one that technically doesn't involve cheating!

Does anyone have any thoughts, comments or questions? We'd love to hear from you!

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Follow Friday

It's Friday, and it's not just the end of the week, it's time for blog hopping!


Q. NAME 3 AUTHORS THAT YOU WOULD LOVE TO SIT DOWN AND SPEND AN HOUR OR A MEAL WITH JUST TALKING ABOUT EITHER THEIR BOOKS OR GET ADVICE ON WRITING FROM?


Well, to be practical, let's eliminate the ones that are deceased, as having dinner with a corpse isn't exactly viable, is it? So among living authors, I would say Charlaine Harris, but she obviously has a very wonderful sense of humor and a great way of creating amazing characters. Sherrilyn Kenyon for advice on how she creates such hot vampires and how she researches and weaves in the Greek myths into her stories - and how does she keep everything straight. Then Mike Carey - to discuss his graphic novels, particularly Lucifer, and to get advice on writing a graphic novel.





Happy Friday! Thanks in advance for visiting my blog, I'll be heading out to do some visiting of my own shortly!

♥ Julie

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Silver Flash: Lust Never Sleeps 3: Pizzicato in Gypsy Major

Happy Hump Day! Time for another Silver Flash! This week we're being joined by two Flash virgins, so please show them some love, willya? If you remember from last week's episode of Lust Never Sleeps, first there were diamonds, and then there weren't - and then the chase was on. See what happens in this week's installment, and don't forget to check out the other Silver Flashers, watch them strut their stuff - as usual, they're listed at the end of this post. Oh, this week's prompts were:  Heather gave us "mischief managed" and/or the use of dark chocolate in our story, while Ryssa gave the alternative prompt of using "church, star and phone". I think you'll see I used them all. Without further ado, I now give you Lust Never Sleeps 3!

Pizzicato in Gypsy Major





Sawyer Thomas cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the three men who stood grouped about him—Mr. Schrodinger and Mr. Salisbury, and of course Darryl, aka Jean-Phillippe. “Gentlemen, since your minion is more than capable of taking care of that minor annoyance, shall we… ahem… conclude our business?”

The two dark men exchanged looks, the gaze of one going up, the other down, in order to account for their contrasting heights.

“A diamond in the hand is worth money in your pocket. We shall be in touch with you, Mr. Thomas.” So saying, they touched their hands to the brims of their matching bowlers, murmured, “Mischief managed,” and faded into nothingness before Sawyer’s and Darryl’s very eyes.

Darryl turned toward the bar. “Can I get a shot please?”

“What kind do you want?”

“Whatever you have.” He downed the first shot within seconds, asked for another, before turning his attention back to Sawyer, who was frowning. Not at him, but at where the two gentlemen had been standing, wrinkles marring the perfect symmetry of his brow.

“Well, fuck,” he said, rather inelegantly.

“Did they stiff you?” Darryl asked, although he was fairly sure of the answer. But it was all he could think of to say that wasn’t will you please fuck me.

“Do you see any money in my hand?” The blond licked his lips, and Darryl thought he would orgasm right then and there.

“Well if they think I’m going to take that lying down, they have another think coming,” Sawyer muttered to himself. He tugged on Darryl’s sleeve. At the question in the dark haired man’s eyes, he simply said, “I’ll think of something. Let’s get out of here. They won’t be coming back here any time soon.”

“What about the gypsy?”

“Unless I’m mistaken, we’ll find the evidence of his handiwork close at hand. But never mind that now.” He tugged again, and Darryl would have followed him anywhere, his second brain having taken over for the moment.

Darryl managed to toss the money for his drinks onto the bar, plus enough to cover a tip, before he found himself exiting Hannagan’s just behind Sawyer. They stood on the street for a moment, as if considering their next move. Well, Sawyer was. Darryl had no idea what was going on or what was meant to be done about it.  The antique gaslights which lined the street, which were redolent of another era, had winked on.  Evening was nigh.

“That way.” Sawyer pointed a short distance from them, where a growing crowd of people was gathering.  “If I’m not mistaken, we’ll find the thief there.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Darryl asked. “You can get your diamonds back and conclude your business transaction.”

Sawyer lightly trailed his fingers along Darryl’s jaw, setting him to quivering.  “You are such an innocent,” he said, dropping his voice so that only Darryl could hear his words. Then he kissed him, with infinite tenderness, before leading him toward the group. “Let me show you, Jean-Phillipe.”

“It’s Darryl,” Darryl muttered, but Sawyer seemed not to hear.

Before they’d reached the edge of the crowd, they could hear bits and pieces of what was being said in fascinated horror by the onlookers. “What could have done that?” “Is there a serial killer on the loose?” “Who’s this guy?”  “What’s up?”

Sawyer muscled their way through;  rather he employed fortunately placed touches which seemed to turn people away from their path of their own accord. Darryl marveled at the skill inherent in his fingertips. And wondered how they’d feel if applied to himself. That thought alone caused his body to flame.

“Look.” Sawyer pointed, and Darryl did so.

It was indeed the thief.   Head neatly sliced from his body, it tenuously perched atop his neck. A good stiff breeze would probably send it rolling away. A slender filament lay upon his chest.

“Violin string,” Sawyer explained. “He was garroted with it. It’s the gypsy’s trademark.”

“How can something so thin do so much damage?” Darryl asked, incredulous.

“Special strings. Made to order. Come.” He turned to go.

“Aren’t you going to look for the diamonds?”

“Milosh has them. Which means they’ll have them. Which means we must get them back.” He grabbed Darryl’s hand, twining their fingers, drawing him away from the excited throng. Just in time, as a vehicle flashing bright lights appeared, honking and edging its way through the madness.

“Where to?” Darryl asked. Purely for appearance’s sake. He really didn’t care.

“Where else? To the church!”

They threaded their way through the crowd of wannabe gawkers, and down a side street. Oddly enough, it was one that Darryl didn’t recognize. And he thought he knew all the streets in these parts. But if the price of holding on to Sawyer Thomas included being taken to strange places on strange errands, then so be it.

They twisted and turned along such a convoluted path that Darryl gave up any idea of getting his bearings, content to cling to Sawyer’s warm hand. May the contact never end.  It was darker here, fewer street lights, buildings with no designation, or indication of their purpose or their intent. Locks and chains and iron bars, and the few people they saw scuttled away without ever drawing near.

“There.” Sawyer pointed to a building which sat where the street dead-ended. Looking into the sky, a single star played guardian above it.

They reached the gothic doors of the edifice; it looked more imposing the closer they got. Darryl couldn’t help but think of Notre Dame when he saw the flying buttresses and the forbidding gargoyles. He half expected to see Quasimodo leap from the battlements.

Sawyer pounded upon the door; Darryl could hear the reverberations echo through the building. For long moments, nothing happened.  “Perhaps no one’s here?” he suggested.

Just then the door opened a crack, revealing a long tall nun with beautiful dark chocolate eyes.

“Good evening, Sister Sue, might we use your phone?”

to be continued


Don't forget to check out the rest of our intrepid group of Silver Flashers!

Sui Lynn      m/m
Ryssa Edwards         m/m
Heather Lin            m/f
Pender Mackie        m/m
Lily Sawyer           m/m
Victoria Blisse        m/f
Lindsay Klug         m/m
Chris Quinton        m/m    **virgin**
West Thornhill       m/m    **virgin**

 We'd all love to hear what you think of our efforts! Please feel free to comment!

Until next week, take care!

♥ Julie

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Flipping Out, More True Blood and Food Stuffs cont.

The fifth season of Flipping Out began a couple of weeks ago. Strictly speaking, Jeff Lewis isn't flipping  houses any more, he's doing designs. The economy just didn't support his flipping houses any more, so he had to find alternative means of making a living. However, he seems to be doing well with this, despite having to have more customer interaction, and being forced to do as the client wishes, rather than as he sees fit. That being said, we start the season with the same cast as were there at the end of four, with one addition - Gage, who is the business manager and also Jeff's significant other. He's 26 and very cute, they make an awesomely cute couple! Check him out! I think he is a great addition to the show.

Last week, I thought we'd finally see Sarah get fired, but no such luck. She's a complete fuck up, I find her ridiculous and she isn't as cute as she thinks she is; her make up is ridiculously overdone, and she's a brainless twit, pretty much. I like Jennie, but she's cut back on her hours in order to puruse her other career in acting. It's too bad Sarah hasn't worked out. They were looking for people to interview for an intern position - Jeff's qualifications are ridiculous. He values looks first; he should look at qualifications more, then he wouldn't end up with someone like Sarah. It doesn't help that her sister is married to Jeff's brother. Although I know he'll fire her when push comes to shove, he's just taking forever to do it.

In one episode, Jeff went to see about doing a rental house, talking to the owner and her husband. Turns out that her husband's a musician, so Jeff starts asking him questions - does he play, does he write songs, is he in a band. I missed the guy's name, and I didn't recognize him, especially with his back to the camera. But when the guy answers, yes, Styx, I took notice. Holy shit, it was Tommy Shaw! Jeff was embarrassed that he didn't realize it, and Sarah was clueless. His wife does most of the talking for them, she's very forthright and no nonsense.

They're still working on Cole, which is the salon owned by Chaz. It's interesting, but now that I've seen him there, I recognize him in informercials I occasionally run across on TV. Jeff's also doing his salon in NY, but I think Chaz is getting impatient at how long it's taking. Jeff and Zoila are at it - again. Nothing new there. Haven't seen much of Jett, but he's there too. Second season off to a good start so far.



I finished watching the third season of True Blood, and all I can say is Wow! Sookie knows about her fae blood, so do too many other people. Eric almost killed himself in order to kill Russell Edgington, to save Sookie, because he wanted her blood, thinking it would make him a daywalker. Wrong, Russell! Hoyt and Jessica are back together, but I think Hoyt's mama aims to do something about that. Sookie knows the truth about Bill, and that relationship is pretty well torn. It ended with the heartbroken Sookie going off with her fae kin. I wish I could watch the fourth season before it comes out on DVD, but so far no such luck.

I watched last night's Master Chef this morning. Now we're down to the final 10, after today's elimination.  The first challenge, which utilized two mystery boxes, one that was set in front of the chefs, and a ginormous one that was in front of the judges, and turned out to be a tank full of lobsters. The chefs had to grab their own! Jennifer won that challenge and got a huge advantage in the next one. The theme was aphrodisiacs, and she got to choose between three of them - oysters, artichokes and truffles. She chose truffles. Then she got to sit it out in the gallery if she wished, drinking champagne, but she chose to cook, a decision which almost cost her dearly. She and Adrien came close to elimination, but Erryn was the one to go with his burnt steak and not cooked well vegetables. Christian's attitude is getting worse and worse, I used to like him, but not so much now. I still like Ben and Adrien and Giuseppe. Giuseppe was finally one of the top three with his pasta and lobster. I recorded Hell's Kitchen last night, more about that after I watch it.

I'll also talk more about the convention that I worked last weekend, 24 Hours of Potter. But another time, when I have more time to do the topic justice. Not tomorrow, that's Silver Flash.

So for now, I'll say good-bye. What do you think of these shows? What shows do you like to watch? I'd love to hear from you!

Take care!


♥ Julie

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Sci Fi Sunday - Reality Check Continues

Good morning and welcome to another edition of Sci Fi Sunday with yours hostesses Julie Hayes and Sui Lynn. We present to you the next chapter of our joint sci fi story, Reality Check. Today the story continues as our heroes prepare to attend a welcome home reception for the young Prince. Not everyone seems to be pleased at the prospect. Enjoy! Don't forget to also visit Sui's blog, and our joint blog, Backdoor Divas!



Reality Check - Chapter Two

So much seems to have changed since I took my leave of Rhealliticzk four years ago. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but it’s different. And not in a good way.

The shuttle that brought me down from the spaceliner was cramped and vile and it stank to the heavens of something very earthy and very offensive. The gods alone know what was last crammed into that tight space before I was. I’m not even sure I want to know. I would hardly even deign to allow that thing the designation of shuttle—it was more like a capsule of doom. I’m grateful that it didn’t burn up on entry into the planet’s atmosphere.

And talk about a faulty guidance system! Instead of taking me to the royal reception area, where my loved ones awaited my arrival, I found myself outside of the very city limits of New Harmony itself. I would have commandeered a horse and carriage to take me home, was I able to find one. But these natives have a propensity for making themselves scarce just when you find a use for them. Terribly inconvenient of them, to say the least.

So we walked! I can scare believe it, but I actually had to walk the vast distance into the city, miles and miles and miles of hard road, all the way to the Palace. Swyddogh offered to carry me part of the way, and I actually considered his offer, but decided it would not do. No dignity in the crown prince being carried like an infant, or a sack of rotten grindershoots being taken out for disposal. Definite lack of dignity and all that.

I am so happy to be back in my own room. That, at least, has remained the same. On my entry to the palace, I hasten there, deciding that I have to take care of my needs first, I can meet my parents later, and for that purpose I send for a basin of warm water, instructing that it be infused with specific scented oils. My feet are soaking in it now. I’m sitting at the end of my bed, wiggling my toes, as blessed relief steals through me.

A rustle of fabric, a slight scent of wildflowers, the sound of a hurried step. All my senses are now attuned toward the door and the figure that has so blithely entered my room without bothering to knock, or even allowing me the chance to give permission to enter my sanctuary, which is most unmannerly. Swyddogh’s hand goes to his weapon automatically—even here in the palace, one must be careful. Four years abroad has definitely taught me that much. But when I see who my visitor is, I wave to him to stand down as she is definitely not a threat.

“Liusaidh!” I cry out in delight, careful not to use the abhorred form of Lulu and mentally patting my back at my ability to remember that. I hold my arms out in welcome. I can’t move to greet her for obvious reasons, so naturally she must come to me. “How is my darling little sister?”

Little is what she isn’t, I discover, as she glides toward the bed—my goodness, where did she learn to move like that, it’s so… so adult. Yes, she’s in full length skirts now, the short skirts of childhood gone forever. Her hair is a lot longer than I remember, and it’s done in some intricate fashion, a flower tucked behind each ear. While her dark purple skirt is loose and flowing, her jacket fits her more closely, as is the custom among the women of our society. Not the native population, of course, they are practically heathens.

What’s this I see in her ear? Is that an earring? She’s gotten a piercing? My goodness, things have certainly changed. Not that I’m surprised that our parents have allowed that. They are very liberal spirits, I know. I got my first one when I was younger than she. I’ve been debating getting one in my private regions, but so far I haven’t managed to come to a decision regarding that.

She hikes up her skirts when she reaches me and before I can say yea or nay, she clambers over my footbath and straddles my lap, and then she throws her arms around me and begins to wail. Right beside my ear, no less! She has quite the pair of lungs for a young lady. I wince as I attempt to hold her to a more tolerable decibel level.

“What on earth is wrong?” I attempt to soothe her, rubbing her back in small circles, making clucking noises, murmuring her name—everything I can think of to do to calm a lady in distress. Something I have little experience with, I might add, other than with the members of my own family. She presses her forehead against mine, her blue eyes looking deeply disturbed and dangerously dewy.

“They want to marry me off, Kay! They’re deciding on my Fate even as we speak, brother!”

“They? Who are they?” I’m only asking to get her to focus, because the answer to the question is obvious. Our parents, who else?

She doesn’t dignify my stupidity with an answer.

“Tonight there will be men who will be looking at me like I’m some sort of a prize to compete for. You know the look I mean.”

Not really, but I let that pass.

“Don’t you want to get married?” I’m trying to be diplomatic and help her to see the practicality of the matter. Mostly I want her to calm down and quit bouncing on me. It’s not very pleasant.

“I do, Kay, I do! But only after I fall in love. You do believe in love, don’t you, brother?” Her sniffling lessens a bit, which is a good sign. She takes my face in her hands and continues the ocular exploration. “Don’t you want to find the perfect man for you? And not settle for anyone less?”

Well, of course. But it isn’t that easy, not when you’re a prince. I’m actually lucky that I haven’t been married off already, seeing as I’m the heir to the throne and all that. I’m also pretty damn lucky that my parents aren’t the pushy sort or I would be by now.

“You know they love you, right?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, rubbing her cheek against mine. I shift my feet in the tub; damn water’s getting cold.

“Then trust them. Besides, it takes a while for those negotiations to take place. It doesn’t happen overnight. So, let’s just enjoy the reception and have some fun, Luci?” The new nickname has slipped out, but she doesn’t object. So Luci it is. “I tell you what, you point out the suitors that offend you and I’ll make them feel so ridiculous they’ll never dare to bring up the subject of marriage with you ever again!”

Liusaidh giggles and I relax. The crisis is over. At least for now. I hold her a little longer, but I’m already thinking ahead to the reception, and what I intend to wear.

After my sister leaves to attend to her toilette, I begin my own. I look through every item in my wardrobe twice. My bed is piled high with the discards that I have deemed not good enough and I’m getting damned aggravated. If I had time, I’d go shopping, but I don’t. Good thing I picked up a few things off-planet, even if I didn’t get the chance to wear them there. I’ll make up for that now.

I finally settle on white, because I look good in it. Okay, I look good in every color, but I have to choose something, so white it is tonight. A satin skirt, with a royal blue lining. The skirt is longer in back than in front, which becomes a showcase for my legs. Did I mention that I have nice legs? I select a lovely pair of silver sandals for my poor sore feet, which I lace up my legs.

I choose my jacket to match the lining—double breasted with silver buttons. However, I leave it unbuttoned, the better to show off my gold belt, from which my ruby encrusted dagger hangs. I have no idea how to use it, but it flashes prettily in the sun. And it makes me look good.

Okay, now for the adornment. I sort through my jewelry critically—if I wear too much, I’ll come off as some sort of cheap doxy, too little and I’ll appear to be poor and that won’t do at all. I settle on two bracelets on each arm, of assorted jewels. One ring on each hand. A sapphire stud in my ear. And a matching sapphire necklace with the royal emblem emblazoned on it.

Makeup for tonight consists of midnight blue eyeliner, and I outline my lips in pale coral. Just enough to whet the appetite. Atop my head, I wear a black beret. I cock it at a jaunty angle, admiring myself in the mirror which Swyddogh holds. I am so very beautiful and I know it.

Time to meet my adoring public! Though the heavens alone know whom my parents have put on the guest list. They have a propensity to be strange sometimes. It wouldn’t surprise me to see some of the locals there. The wealthier ones, anyway. For balance or something. And because some of them work for us.

I have to make a grand entrance, of course. The reception is being held in the palace, for convenience sake.  Where else? I decide to arrive fashionably late, ignoring the dozen or so times my sister knocks at my door demanding to know if I am ready or not. I tell her to go on ahead, I’ll be there.

I know what I’m doing.

Finally, when I’ve decided that I’ve pushed the outer limits of etiquette and propriety to the limit, I nod to Swyddogh.  He goes ahead of me to tell the royal hooterers to do their thing. And as they trumpet the news to the assemblage, I begin my descent down the long curved staircase which will take me into the Grand Foyer, and thence to the Grand Ballroom.

I smile to myself at the knowledge that I am indeed the fairest one of them all.

§§§§§

The guardian is well past zenith when I decide I’ve basked in the glory long enough to put some color into my hair. It will have to be enough because I’ve certainly preened enough for one day. My father appears with a mirror as I begin to get ready to leave the gardens. I push past him without even glancing at the glass. As if I really care what I look like. This is all in preparation for a girl of all things! I’m being made to preen for a female! I can’t believe this horrendous turn of events. My only consolation will be that where there are eligible females, there will most certainly be males, and maybe some in similar circumstances to my own. Which will mean as long as the Princess doesn’t find me acceptable, there might be a male who will.

Those thoughts improve my spirits markedly. Now I have to come up with a way to put off the little poppet without being too obvious and getting my mother insulted. Not an easy thing to do. My first thought is to dress as casually as possible, but as I enter my room, I find that clothes have already been laid out for me. It’s a rather complicated mess of material and cinches in the human style, very fashionable from what I’ve seen of late at the castle. If it were any other occasion, I’d be thrilled to receive such a garment. I sigh, looking down at it in complete resignation.  I’ll have to think of something else.

I head for the bathing rooms. The cool scented waters will soothe my mood at the very least. As I enter, I see Jaou relaxing in his recuperative bath and I smile. The guardian was kind and his color is good and strong. There are even a few streaks of gold and red in his hair, Jaou would be in good form to attend the reception if I can convince him to come with me.

“Jaou, I am happy to see you, brother.” I walk over and give him a warm hug. Even if he is denied the chance to attend at my side, I am still very fond of Jaou. It has upset me more than I care to think that he’s gotten ill in the wastes. People don’t always recover from visits to the wastes. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. The waste is growing at a phenomenal rate. I truly fear for the sentinel trees. So many of them are sickening.” Jaou’s eyes are clearly troubled with what he has seen.

“I must admit I’m concerned greatly, brother. But I’m more concerned for your health. I was very worried when Father told me you’d gone to check on the trees. The waste is no place for any Rhealliticzkian to be. You are lucky the guardian has been able to restore your health.”

“Please, Reno. I know my limits. I’m fine. Just a bit tired, and the guardian has fed my spirit. Heck, there are more colors in my hair today than I’ve carried since my blooming ceremony on my fifteenth birthday.” Jaou chuckles and watches as I add scented oils to the water and then pour some of the scented oils into Jaou’s recuperative bath.

“You do look quite attractive, my brother. You should come with me to the reception tonight, we’d make quite a sight. Besides, I haven’t gotten to spend any time with you lately and a party would be enjoyable with you at my side.” I ease into the bath. The cool soothing waters feel very refreshing after sunbathing in the guardian’s light for most of the day.

“I don’t know. I think you’ll be outshining all tonight my brother. You look… radiantly beautiful.” Jaou grins at me, rather smugly. “You’re sure to be able to have whatever belle you want tonight.”

“You know I’m not interested in any of the belles. I’m much more into beaus.” I laugh and splash water from my pool at my brother, who returns the favor and splashes back.

“Well, from what Mother has planned, you’d better be ready to entertain at least one belle at that party,” Jaou teases.

“Ugh… don’t remind me. The Princess of all people. I’m not even sure my pheromones will attract a female.”

“Well, if your pheromones don’t, you definitely look pretty enough, brother. Have you looked into the mirror? Your hair is full of blooming colors. The emerald green under-layer is there, but brother, I’ve never seen anyone with royal blue tones amongst the reds and golds. Your entire countenance is one of jewel tones. Mother will be pleased.”

“At least someone will.”

“Fine, I’ll go with you. Just quit pouting.” My brother laughs. “You’ll need a bodyguard with those colors proclaiming your intention to attract a companion.” Jaou steps out of the bathing pool. “The guardian hasn’t set yet. I’ll go sit in the gardens for a while and then join you in your rooms. The extra time I spend in basking will give me a bit more color and then you can help me choose an outfit for this party.”

“Thank you so much Jaou, you won’t regret this.”

“Then why am I already regretting it?” Jaou leaves the bathing room chuckling, leaving me to my musings and soaking.

Father enters the bathing room some time after Jaou has gone; he sits at the door.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Father.”

“We all do what we must. You will do no less, my son. I must say though, even if you are unsure, you look exceedingly beautiful.”

I stand and step from the pool; regardless of the task ahead, I do feel marvelous. I let the waters sluice down my body, the shiny deep viridian green of my skin surprises even me. My father hands me a towel and I pat myself dry. Glancing down, I notice the vibrant gold and royal blue of the petals that cover my sensitive pistils at the base of my cock. Even at rest with no others to attract, the colors practically thrum. Sorry buddy, you aren’t going to be getting the kind of attention you usually look for tonight, I think to myself and sigh, heading back to my room.

I begin to dress in the outfit my mother has procured for this event. I have to admit it’s quite exquisite, a caramel and red affair. Very dignified and pleasant, not ostentatious as much of the current fashion tends to be at the court. The shirt is a ruby red silk mesh that allows my skin to breathe and the viridian color to show through slightly. The kilt is a brushed linen pleated caramel with ruby threads embroidered throughout in the pattern of trees and leaves. It’s secured with onyx ties and buttons at my side. The jacket continues the theme, being brushed caramel with red embroidery and black buttons. If needed I can easily button the jacket if but I’ve decided to leave it open, as the evening is quite warm.

I eye my reflection critically in the mirror, pulling on the ruffled sleeves of my ruby shirt so they puff about my wrists. I secure the tight jacket cuffs with the onyx buttons, making the jacket swell a bit about my biceps. I look over at my dresser and choose a simple choker of amber, onyx and ruby beads for around my throat, while adding golden caps to my pointed ears, letting the onyx and amber beads dangling on golden threads cascade to the lobes. The kilt was a bit short for my taste, barely reaching halfway down my thighs in front but more than making up for it by hanging below my knees in the back. I secure a black leather belt with a black pouch with a golden clasp at my waist. I feel naked without my knife but as I am dressed to attract a companion, a weapon at my waist would be considered improper and could offend the royal household. Lastly I step into the offensive footwear mother has set out with the outfit. Usually I don’t have to wear shoes, not even at work, but for this formal reception they’ll be mandatory. Luckily they are just a light tan pair of sandals. I slide my foot into the leather and a ring wraps around my first toe. I tie the leather stays about my ankles to keep them from falling off.

I admire my reflection for a moment. I have to admit, I do look good. I pull my long hair back from my face and secure the long straight locks with a black band in what the humans call a ponytail. Having seen an actual pony’s tail, the reference is rather absurd in comparison to my multicolored hair in blues, reds, golds and emerald green, cascading from the top of my head to midway down my back. I can’t prevent my sigh of frustration as Jaou walks into my room. He’s dressed similarly, but his outfit of black and green only makes him appear pale.

“Are you sure you feel well enough to attend this farce?”

“Yes and knock it off, anyone would appear pale standing next to you tonight, my brother.”

“Mother got you a new outfit as well I see.” I mumble, stalling of course.

“Yes, it seems she assumed I would be the one to accompany you. Come on. Mother has had the horses called for and we need to go lest we be late.”

“Fine, let’s get this show on the road,” I grumble. Jaou pats me on the back and we walk out to face Mother’s inspection.

“You both look stunning. Reno, you will be the most beautiful man at the feast. Just remember why you are there. Attract the Princess and sweep her off her feet. I know you can do it, my beautiful son.”

“Yes, Mother,” I agree, even while my heart sinks.

She reaches up to my hair and pulls some of the emerald and blue strands loose to hang about my face. “Blue, I’d never have guessed you would bloom in royal blue,” she whispers, then turns to eye my brother critically.

“Come on Reno, let’s go.” Jaou grabs my bicep and pulls me out of the house to the black horses waiting for us. Sighing, I pull the back of the kilt between my legs and climb onto the rough woven cloth of the saddle. The two of us chirrup softly to the horses, turning their heads towards the palace.

The ride to the palace is thankfully short. Much longer and I’d have been wishing Mother would’ve called us a carriage. We enter the foyer and the footman announces our arrival to the throng of revelers as we enter.

Let the charade begin.


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♥ Julie and Sui