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Ravenna C. Tan (![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ravenna_c_tan) wrote,@ 2009-06-03 15:16:00 |
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OMG Hot (original fic rec)
Lauren P. Burka is being the author guest attorquere_social today, and she kicked things off with a scorchingly hot sample of her upcoming m/m erotic fantasy novel, WISHBONE.
http://community.livejournal.com/torque
her synopsis: "I'm including below the break the first chapter of a novel I just completed. Wishbone is a spicy hot fantasy novel of a young hustler who makes a precarious living serving the sailors of a cold, rainy port town. He is one missed bribe away from arrest by the dock patrol and conviction under a legal system that treats homosexuality as a capital crime. One night Wishbone takes a terrible risk and goes home with a wealthy, handsome client who is not human. Wishbone begins a quest for the love and acceptance that he never received from his own race."
A snippet is here below the cut, but just click the link above to read the whole chapter. *fans self*
A fragrance emanated from Wishbone's guest. Musky and spicy, as if a predator beast had slept in a bed of rare herbs, it was detectable even over the foul air of the alley. Unlike every other customer who had come to Wishbone, this one appeared neither ashamed nor furtive.
"You're a shih-aan," said Wishbone.
"And you are a human," said the shih-aan. He smiled, revealing the point of a fang. "I offer you my hospitality tonight."
Going home with a client could earn Wishbone more coin and a nicer place to sleep. But whores who left the relative safety of the docks for the wealthier parts of town did not always return. And what could his friends do then, tell the city guard?
And he'd heard stories about what shih-aan did to humans. Plenty of men would swear they knew of someone who'd been gutted and cut into steaks by one of the demon creatures. If you pressed them about it, though, it always happened back during the war, and there were soldiers who had collections of shih-aan ears taken on the battlefields of Feras-aan. Since the treaty a few shih-aan had always lived in Bronlyn Harbor, trading in fine cloth, building ships and not, generally, eating anyone. Still, there were stories.
Wishbone knew he should decline.
On the other hand, storms had kept the fishing boats to harbor for the past three days, and the sailors and fishermen were saving their coins for hot stew and beer. Wishbone's purse was flat. What the inhuman customer might do to him was theoretical, whereas his fate at the hands of the dock patrol if he didn't have bribe money tomorrow was certain.
Gloved in black velvet, the shih-aan's fingers touched Wishbone's cheek. He swallowed.
Lauren P. Burka is being the author guest at
torquere_social today, and she kicked things off with a scorchingly hot sample of her upcoming m/m erotic fantasy novel, WISHBONE.http://community.livejournal.com/torque
her synopsis: "I'm including below the break the first chapter of a novel I just completed. Wishbone is a spicy hot fantasy novel of a young hustler who makes a precarious living serving the sailors of a cold, rainy port town. He is one missed bribe away from arrest by the dock patrol and conviction under a legal system that treats homosexuality as a capital crime. One night Wishbone takes a terrible risk and goes home with a wealthy, handsome client who is not human. Wishbone begins a quest for the love and acceptance that he never received from his own race."
A snippet is here below the cut, but just click the link above to read the whole chapter. *fans self*
A fragrance emanated from Wishbone's guest. Musky and spicy, as if a predator beast had slept in a bed of rare herbs, it was detectable even over the foul air of the alley. Unlike every other customer who had come to Wishbone, this one appeared neither ashamed nor furtive.
"You're a shih-aan," said Wishbone.
"And you are a human," said the shih-aan. He smiled, revealing the point of a fang. "I offer you my hospitality tonight."
Going home with a client could earn Wishbone more coin and a nicer place to sleep. But whores who left the relative safety of the docks for the wealthier parts of town did not always return. And what could his friends do then, tell the city guard?
And he'd heard stories about what shih-aan did to humans. Plenty of men would swear they knew of someone who'd been gutted and cut into steaks by one of the demon creatures. If you pressed them about it, though, it always happened back during the war, and there were soldiers who had collections of shih-aan ears taken on the battlefields of Feras-aan. Since the treaty a few shih-aan had always lived in Bronlyn Harbor, trading in fine cloth, building ships and not, generally, eating anyone. Still, there were stories.
Wishbone knew he should decline.
On the other hand, storms had kept the fishing boats to harbor for the past three days, and the sailors and fishermen were saving their coins for hot stew and beer. Wishbone's purse was flat. What the inhuman customer might do to him was theoretical, whereas his fate at the hands of the dock patrol if he didn't have bribe money tomorrow was certain.
Gloved in black velvet, the shih-aan's fingers touched Wishbone's cheek. He swallowed.
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