Wednesday Briefs - Who Are the Bad Guys

Wednesdays come round too fast, especially this one which is my first day back in work after the holiday weekend. Ah well

For this week's prompt I've chosen Daft punk rooster.

The men looked scarier up close. Their faces were stony, as if a smile would hurt.

“We’re looking for someone… something.”

“Something?” Pasha licked his lips and wiped his palms on his jeans. He was sure he must look as guilty as hell.

“Did you see anything strange last night? Any… unusual beings.”

“What do you mean? Unusual beings?”

The man held up the feather, twirling it in his fingers. “You might have mistaken it for an… angel.”

Pasha laughed. “An angel? Yeah, right. As if. Sorry, we don’t get too many angels around here. I’m sure we’d have noticed if we’d seen one.” He laced his voice with as much sarcasm as he could.

“So you saw nothing unusual?” He kept twirling the feather and Pasha’s mind raced. There was no point saying he hadn’t seen anything because the feather said something different.

“Well… now you come to mention it there was a god-almighty flash of lightening. I mean fucking crazy. We thought it might have struck the barn in the next field. The daft punk rooster was squawking fit to burst.” He hoped to God they didn’t check for a barn in the next field because he had no idea if there was one. “We looked out of the window and there was something sniffing around the car. I don’t know what it was. It was so dark, all we could see was a shape. We figured it was a dog run off, scared by the storm or something. Didn’t take too close a look, just in case—it looked big.”

“I see. And that’s all?”

“Yeah. That’s all. Sorry I didn’t see any angels.”

The man leaned forward slightly and stared into his eyes. “Mock all you please, but this creature is dangerous. He’s beautiful and seems sweet and soft but trust me, he isn’t. He’s a bloodthirsty warrior who’d cut your throats in a minute if he thought he needed to.” He straightened again. “He was tried and sentenced but escaped punishment. He’s on the run and deadly dangerous. If you see him, call. Do not try to approach him and whatever you do, don’t invite him into your home.” The man handed over a card. It was thick and creamy with raised writing on it. Pasha glanced at it. The writing was strange, curly and indecipherable. The numbers though, were clearly a telephone number, although he didn’t recognise the exchange.

“Sure. If I see anything I’ll call.”

“It’s important, sir. Not just your safety but that of your family and possibly the whole neighbourhood is in jeopardy. This creature is not what it seems. It’s rogue and dangerous.”

“I… I understand. I promise I’ll call if see anything strange.”

The men nodded and turned away. As they crossed the yard they looked up at the window. Pasha’s heart stopped. What did they see? Surely the angel wouldn’t have been stupid enough to stand close enough to be seen.

As soon as the men were out of sight, Pasha ran into the kitchen. Lukas and Anna were eating breakfast. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” he gasped, taking a gulp of Lukas’ coffee.

“Hey, that’s mine. What’s going on?”

“Two guys just knocked the door asking if we’d seen anything strange. Apparently they’re hunting a rogue angel, an escaped criminal who’d cut our throats in a minute if he thought he needed to.” He pushed the card across the table. They all stared at it. A day ago they’d have dismissed the whole thing from their minds.

“The thing is— the angel knew they were coming. He came running upstairs and begged me to help him because someone was coming who was going to hurt him.”

“Shit. Who do we believe? What did the angel say?”

“Nothing really. He said he couldn’t remember why he was scared.”

“Yeah, that’s a convenient excuse isn’t it?”

“He seemed so genuine,” Anna said.

Pasha nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Are you sure? What if he is dangerous?”

“Then I’ll yell. I don’t believe them, Lukas. I just can’t. I know he’s not evil. I don’t know how, I just do. Look, let me talk to him, then you talk to him and if you’re not convinced you can call the number on the card.”

“Be careful.”

The angel was still crouched on the floor, huddled against the bed. He looked up when Pasha entered and his eyes were pleading. Pasha crouched down next to him. “Are you alright?”

“Scared, Pasha. They… they want me. Want to hurt me.” His eyes were so wide, so innocent, so beautiful.

No, he couldn’t get lost in his eyes, not now. He couldn’t let himself be fooled by a beautiful face… a very beautiful face.

“Do you know who they are?”

The angel shook his head. “They’re bad men, Pasha,” he moaned. “They’ll hurt me.”

“They said you’re the bad man.”

“No. No, Pasha. I’m not bad. I… I know I’m not. I’m not bad.”

“You don’t remember. How can you be sure?”

The angel shrunk away from him, shaking his head. His eyes were wide and terrified. “Please,” he whispered. “Please. I’m not… I’m not bad. I don’t remember but… but I… I know I’m not bad… not like them. Please believe me, Pasha.”

“They said you were a warrior, that you might hurt us.”

“Oh no, Pasha, no, I’d never hurt you. Or your family. I… I like you. I… more than like you.” He fluttered his eyelashes and looked up at him through the golden fans.

Pasha shook his head. “I can’t be blinded by the way you say you feel about me.”

“Say? You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know what to believe.”

“You don’t… believe me.” The angel turned away from him and slid onto the floor, curling on his side sobbing heart wrenching sobs. Pasha looked at him in horror. How could he believe this sweet, scared, pathetic creature was a bloodthirsty escaped criminal?

Now off you go to read the rest of the flashers this week

Michael Mandrake 

Lily Sawyer

MA Church

MC Houle  

Julie Lynn Hayes

Interview with S L Danielson

Today I am privileged to interview S L Danielson (Steph ) author of many great books and co-author of many more. Check out the links before for links to her books and those she's written with another great author Julie L Hayes

Steph is also president of Romance First Publishers with whom I have a book published and another on the way.

What was it that led you to write about gay relationships? 

Two reasons: to explore 'different' people; having grown up in a homogenous environment; I wanted to know more about people who were different than the usual. Also, when I was 16 I met my first gay guy, (had a crush on him too) but I wanted to always honor gay men and how they can find love too.

Where do you get your inspiration for your characters? 

All over, really. I take a lot of facets of my own persona, plus my family and friends, and mesh them together into people I want to write about.

What's going on with the Sims right now? 

There's actually a good reason for asking this question as I happen to know that Steph has created characters from the series we are writing together and they are having an interesting time together in Sim World

All kinds of things! I just have one neighborhood I'm running right now, but there's lots of teens, angst, crushes, and job-prep being done for their futures.

If you could have one wish what would it be? 

Health.

What's your deepest fear? 

Poverty...and lack of freedom.

If I came to dinner what would you feed me? 

Manicotti!!!

What was it that made you decide to start  your own publishing company? 

I wanted to do things on my own and wanted to explore owning a business. That, plus I wanted to run it my own way, and explore all the benefits and downfalls of doing so. Okay, and yes, to make money! 

What is the hardest part of running your own company? 

Management. The toughest moments have been some issues with editors and authors not getting along, plus some other internal items; but those have all been resolved. Overall though, that has been the hardest, and least desirable function.

What's the most rewarding part of running your own company? 

Getting to meet great new authors and reading their stories; giving them a shot. I've met some terrific authors who are thrilled to death for a chance to publish and get their book out there without doing it on their own. As both a published by houses and an indie author myself; I understood this completely. I love sending that acceptance letter and the thank yous and hugs I get in return!

What do you prefer writing. A one off novel, a series or short stories? 

Oy...it used to be single novels...but now I'm loving the series'. Actually, looking back on the lions' share of my own works...most of them have been worked into a two or three book deal. I think now doing a series is my absolute favorite.

What kind of books do you read (if you have time to read)? 

Time? What's that? When I do get the chance, I love the genre I write, but also sci-fi. I will pick these up more when school ends.

Where do you see yourself personally and professionally in 5 years time? Personally.... I see me graduated, hopefully in my degree field with some side income, and in a revamped house (already started the process). Professionally... I see RFP getting larger, and in 5 years time, publish at least a dozen more books indie and maybe a house one as well. I want to publish the series I began in my teen years at last. I also want my house to be completely liveable, and complete with an irish pub in the basement. :)

You and I have a book coming out soon. What would you (and the Sims) like to say about it 

Hehe...the Simmies love it!!! I love seeing how they interact with the traits I've put into them. I love the story... Erik is your typical angsty teen, Asher is very extraordinary; Billy and Vince are my pets though; I adore them, always. Upstaged has been the easiest and funnest series to ever write! Every book has at least 1 new character added, which adds to the freshness of it and keeps the interest alive. We get new points of view and interactions... it's not the same 'ol bunch over and over.

Are you working on anything else at the moment? 

Right now the only only iron in the fire is the final (joint) book of the SC series. After that, I'm not sure what's next...too many 'works' waiting for their debut. The only major item other than writing in my life (okay, beyond working) is finishing school.

Is there anything you'd like to say to close... personally or professionally? 

No..I think I said it all up there. :)

Steph is a woman of few words, as I have found when writing together. Her brevity compensates for my tendency to be verbose.

I've thoroughly enjoyed our time working together on Upstaged and am quite sad that it's coming to and end. 8 books in under 5 months is a pretty good achievement though, and, I think, shows how well we write together with the story literally flowing between us.

The first book in the series is in the last stages of editing and should be out soon. Keep your eyes open and check out my Upstaged page for further information excerpts and news

While you're waiting for the release check out the following links for Steph's works and the other wonderful books published by RFP

 http://www.amazon.com/S.-L.-Danielson/e/B003W8EGHU/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Stephanie+Danielson

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ladyauthorsld

www.ladyauthorsld.blogspot.com

and for RFP:

www.romancefirstpublishing.blogspot.com

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/romancefirstpublishing

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html

Wednesday Flash - Danger

Another Wednesday rolls around, far too quickly. I flash with a heavy heart as Maria is on her way home and my first day back at work has come :( On the bright side, I'm not working tomorrow and there's a Bank Holiday on Monday, so two short weeks in a row. So here is my next flash of inspiration when Pasha gets to grips with the angel... maybe.

Pasha lay on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. What had he got himself into this time?

He thought of the angel downstairs, he was naked and— Oh shit, don’t think about that, Pasha. If you don’t think about you won’t— It was hopeless, of course. It was all he could think about. The strong shoulders and narrow waist. The golden hair. The unworldly blue eyes. He shuddered.

The angel was so sure he desired him. But he didn’t. He didn’t desire him. So why was he getting hot just thinking of him? Why was his body reacting to something he was trying so hard to deny?

Although he fought it, his hand slipped under his shirt and followed the path the angel’s had taken. It was as if he’d burned a trail and touching it awoke a deep tingling pleasure that permeated his body to the bones. Throwing back his head, he touched his stomach, his chest, his nipples. Oh God, his nipples. As soon as he touched the eager nub it was as if he could feel arms around him, hot breath on his skin, lips caressing him.

Gasping, he closed his eyes and ‘He’ was there, the angel— touching him, kissing him, sucking him. Shocked, he opened his eyes. He was alone. What the hell was going on? This was the angel’s doing. He’d put a spell on him. He’d… Pasha wanted to get up, to break the spell but part of him wanted more and that part wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily.

Letting himself relax again, he closed his eyes and the angel was back, licking a trail from nipple to groin. Pasha moaned and bucked his hips as the angel kissed along the velvety skin of his shaft. He whimpered when his tongue flicked out and tasted him and then his hot, needy mouth took him in to the hilt slowly sliding up and down, flicking with his tongue until Pasha was in a frenzy, sobbing with desire.

He looked down. He thought he looked down although surely his eyes were closed. The angel’s eyes caught and held his, burned into his mind as he speeded up then swallowed, the strong muscles of his throat contracting and drawing from Pasha the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. Gasping and panting, he opened his eyes. Surely the angel would still be there. Surely…

He was alone, his hand still clenched around his throbbing cock. Oh no. He’d just jacked off over a man. Did that make him gay? Had he always been gay, or was it the angel? He moaned, a headache beginning to pound. He was so confused.

Eventually he got up and cleaned himself off, shivering in the early morning chill. He threw on a pair of jeans and was lacing up his sneakers when the door flew open. He looked up startled, to find the angel standing there, his eyes wide and wild.

“You must help me, Pasha. Help me, please.” He threw himself to his knees at Pasha’s feet and laid his head on his lap, throwing his arms around him. “Please help me, please. I am so afraid.” He looked up and there were tears running from his eyes, tears like perfect pear shaped diamonds. Entranced, Pasha reached out and took one on the tip of his finger. He stared at it, crystalline and perfect in every way. When he looked down, his knees were scattered with them. Angel tears.

“Ssh,” he said, stroking the angel’s hair. “Ssh, it’s alright. I’ll help you. What are you afraid of?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The angel shook his head. “I… Something bad is coming. I know it. Something bad that wants to hurt me. Please save me.”

“Nothing bad is coming. You’re hurt and alone in a strange place. You don’t remember and you’re confused. It’s natural to be afraid. Nothing bad is coming.”

“But it is, Pasha, it is. They will hurt me. I know they will. I don’t know who they are or what they will do, but I know they will hurt me. They have followed me. It’s not enough they made me fall, they’ve followed me to finish me. They’ll kill me, Pasha.”

“No one’s going to kill you. You’re safe here.” He tried to soothe the angel, stroking his hair and back, but the angel wouldn’t be calmed. He got more and more agitated until suddenly he grabbed Pasha and sobbed.

“They’re here. They’re here. Please, Pasha. Hide me. Save me.”

Pasha was about to say something when he heard a sound outside the window. He didn’t know what he’d heard but it chilled him. Hushing the angel, he got up and went to the window. There were two men in the yard, looking around, peering into the car.

They looked like ordinary men, nothing overtly sinister or strange, but there was something about them that scared the hell out of him. One of them bent down and picked something up. It looked like a feather.

“Oh no.” He turned the angel. “Stay here and be quiet. Don’t go anywhere near the window.”

“Please don’t leave me,” the angel whispered, cowering against the bed.

“It’s okay,” Pasha said, trying to reassure the terrified angel. “Just wait here. It’s going to be alright.”

Quickly, Pasha slipped out of the bedroom and hurried down the stairs. It would be a disaster if anyone else answered the door. Some of the angel’s paranoia was rubbing off on him. He was half way down when the knock came at the door.

He froze.

“I’ll get it,” Anna’s voice called from the kitchen.

“No,” he almost yelled. “It’s okay. I’m almost there.” He practically ran across the floor and yanked open the door. The man standing on the doorstep looked a little taken aback. “Er… sorry,” Pasha stuttered. “I… um… I was… just… Can I help you?”

Now is the time to go check out the other flashers. I didn't get to it last week because of my pure indulgence with all things Maria but I will sure make up for that later when I get home from work. My after work treat to keep me going.

Lily Sawyer      m/m 

 MA Church    m/m

Tali     m/f

Julie Lynn Hayes  m/m

Wednesday Flash - The Man in the Kitchen

Wednesday again. A very special Wednesday this week. My friend Maria, the wonderful artist is coming to stay so apologies if I don't get to the other flashers today. 

The prompt I used today was Oh my God, is that...?

It was an uncomfortable night and when Pasha woke he was stiff and sore. He sat up and stretched, yawning. The angel had gone.

“Fuck.”

Pasha leaped to his feet, staring around wildly. Where had he gone? Where would an angel go?” As he panicked, he heard humming coming from the direction of the kitchen and, when he walked through the door he got the shock of his life. Standing in the middle of Lukas and Anna’s kitchen was the most incredibly beautiful man he’d ever seen. A man with no wings. Oh my God, is that…?

“Who the fuck are you?”

The man turned and smiled, his long golden hair cascading over his shoulders. He’d heard that expression before many time—golden hair. He even thought he knew what it meant, but he’d never seen anything like this before. The angel’s hair was actually golden, each strand a filament of spun metal. It looked like—

“A halo,” Pasha breathed. “You have a halo.”

“Hello,” the angel responded eagerly, with an even brighter smile.

“No, not ‘hello’… Never mind. What happened to your…er..?” He gestured over his shoulder. The angel looked confused. “Your… wings.”

“Oh. I woke up this morning and remembered I don’t have to have them. They were making it difficult to move.”

“Yes, I expect they were. What did you..? What… happened to them?”

“Happened? Nothing. Do you want me to bring them back?”

“I… don’t know. Can you?”

“Of course.”

Pasha blinked, as the air around the angel shimmered, then solidified into a pair of snow white wings. It’s one thing to pick up a muddy, injured angel from the side of the road and manhandle it into the car. It is quite another to see one with its wings spread, sparkling pristine in the morning sunshine, golden hair spreading out as if lifted by an invisible wind and bright blue eyes shining, lit by an internal light. The angel was awesome… and terrifying.

“That’s okay. I… You can put them away now.”

The angel shimmered again and returned to being just a man. A beautiful man. An incredibly beautiful, naked man. Abruptly Pasha turned away.

“Pasha.”

The sound of his name in that soft, musical voice sent shivers down his spine and he froze. He heard the soft pad of feet and cursed himself. Fucking hell, Pasha, move. Run. Don’t just stand here.

“Why do you fight so hard, Pasha,” the angel said. Pasha felt the heat of the angel’s body just behind him and his breath tickling his hair, over his ear.

“I… I’m not fighting anything.”

The gentle touch on his hair sent a shiver through him. He wanted even more to run, but he couldn’t. Not even when the hand kept on stroking, then brushed the hair away from his neck, allowing the angel to lean forward and whisper into his ear.

“I know you desire me. I feel it. I smell it. Why do you fight so hard?”

“I… I don’t fight anything. I don’t desire you.”

“Really?” The angel inhaled deeply and kissed his neck. Pasha’s eyes rolled and he moaned. He couldn’t help himself.

“No. Please.”

“Ssh,” the angel whispered, peppering his neck with kisses, pulling aside the neck of his tshirt to kiss his shoulder.”

“Please…” Pasha gasped, “Please, no. Stop.”

“You lie to me,” the angel whispered, breathing faster. “I hear your words but I feel your body make them lies.”

The angel slipped his arm around Pasha’s waist and pulled him closer. His kisses became more urgent.

Leaning back against the angel’s hard body, Pasha closed his eyes and tried to focus. This wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right but… It wasn’t a man, not really. It was an angel and angel’s didn’t count… did they? “Oh God,” he moaned as the angel slipped his hand under his tshirt to brush the hot skin on his stomach. His legs felt weak and his guts turned to liquid fire. What was this creature doing do him?

“You are so beautiful, Pasha. Don’t fight me. Please.”

“No… No, I…” He broke off when the angel found his nipple and pinched it. Electricity shot through his body straight from nipple to groin and he moaned again. He let his head fall back against the angel’s shoulder and rolled it when the angel kissed and sucked his throat.  He shuddered and moaned as he pinched the nipple again then circled it slowly with his finger. “No…” he groaned, “Please…”

“Beautiful, Pasha,” the angel whispered, running his hand over Pasha’s body, long elegant fingers stroking the soft skin of his chest and belly.

Pasha closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the incredible sensations the angel was waking in him. Was it magic? Had the angel put a spell on him? It was amazing. The angel was right. He did desire him. He desired him more than he’d ever desired anything in his life. He desired him, longed for him, ached for him. He turned his head and found two soft lips waiting.

The kiss was long and sweet and took his breath away. He clawed at the angels arms, desperate to feel them around him. One wrapped snugly around his chest, while the other continued to stroke his belly. He arched his back, moaning into the angel’s mouth as the hand moved downward from his belly, slipping under the waistband of his sleeping shorts.

Something snapped in Pasha’s head. No, this wasn’t right. This just wasn’t right. Whatever he told himself, however he packaged him, the angel was a man. Definitely and undeniably a man. And Pasha wasn’t gay, he didn’t sleep with men. He didn’t want to sleep with men. He’d never wanted to sleep with men. But he did want the angel. He wanted him so badly.

“No.” Wrenching himself out of the angel’s arms he staggered forward and almost fell.

“Pasha?” the angel asked hurt in his voice.
“I can’t, “ Pasha said, and ran.

Now go check out the other flashers. You won't regret it.

Lily Sawyer      m/m 

MA Church    m/m

Michael Mandrake  m/m

MC Houle     m/m

Tali      m/m

Julie Lynn Hayes m/m

Wednesday Briefs. Oh Heavens

Wednesday rolls around again and with it out comes the briefs for a quick flash. This week I have taken absolute liberties with the prompt -- it was hotter than hell... and changed it to -- he was hotter than hell... I hope I'm forgiven because I don't want to refer to my sweet angel as an it

Pasha pulled away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving you what you want.”

In the light of the living room the blue of the angel’s eyes, which he’d fist noticed in the yard, was intense and otherworldly. They were wide and innocent but there was something deep within that screamed ‘danger’ at him.

“That’s not what I want. You… you’re a man and I… I don’t… I’m not gay.”

“I don’t understand what that means, but I know you desire me, as the other two desire each other.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“How can you know that. You don’t remember.”

The angel shook his head. “No, I don’t remember. But I do know.”

“You… you must have hit your head when you fell. You’re obviously in shock or… or something. It was a heck of a fall. And you’re hurt, and…”

“All true.” The angel frowned and thought deeply. “I still don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why you are so afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” Pasha glared at him and backed away, his eyes wide and his heart pounding.

“Then you are afraid of your desire for me.”

“For the last time… I don’t desire you.”

The angel opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head and closed it again. He sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m very tired. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel now.”

“What do you mean? Feel now?”

“Now I’m here.” He frowned again, then said slowly, his blue eyes open and gently puzzled. ”I was there, and now I’m here and it’s… different. I’m different. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

“Well… I… I suppose you just feel… like you feel.”

“There are many things I feel that I don’t remember having felt before. It hurts… here.” He put his hand over his heart. “It’s strange. I… It gets worse when I try to think about… before. Is that right?”

Pasha looked into the angel’s face and wondered what the hell he’d gotten into. There was such sweet innocence there but an innocence that was, in itself, dangerous as hell.

“I… I think so. I think what you’re feeling is homesickness and maybe fear.”

“Fear? Yes, I am afraid. What is the home… sick?” He rubbed his temple and frowned. “This is all so difficult.”

“Homesickness is missing your home. Being sad because you can’t go home.”

“Yes,” the angel said softly. His eyes slipped away from Pasha’s gaze and seemed to be looking inwards. “I am… sad. But… I don’t remember my home. How can I be sick for it, when I don’t remember it?”

“I think maybe…” Pasha floundered. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. Where was Anna? She was the one who knew what to say in these kinds of situation. “I’ll just get Anna, she—“

“No.” The angel’s hand shot out and grabbed Pasha’s hand. His eyes were wide and suddenly very frightened. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m only going into the next room.”

“No. I… need you.”

“What do you mean, you need me? Don’t be silly?” He tried to pull away but the angel’s grip was strong. “Let me go. What the fuck…?”

“Please Pasha. Please stay with me.”

Pasha shook his head and turned away. Then the thought occurred to him that the angel was more totally and utterly alone than anyone else on the planet. “Alright. Okay, I’ll stay with you. But no more crazy talk about me desiring you okay?”

“If that’s what you wish?” He looked very confused.

“Yes,” Pasha said firmly, “it is.”

The angel sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m very tired. Might I sleep now?”

“Of course. Don’t you want to eat first?”

The angel opened his eyes and frowned at him.  “Yes,” he said softly, “I do but I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t think you can eat?”

“No,” the angel said, that same puzzled expression on his face. “I can eat… I think, but not… not before I…” He closed his eyes again and never completed the sentence. As soon as his hand relaxed enough to release Pasha, he pulled away and sat down suddenly in a chair.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself. “What the fuck?” The fact was that he had desired the angel, and that scared the hell out of him. He’d never in his entire life had sexual thoughts for another man, never. He couldn’t be gay. Surely he would have known, would have had some inkling before now. No, it was impossible. It was just because it was an angel… an angel for fuck sake. They probably made everyone feel like that. Yes, that was it. He was some kind of fucked up cupid that made people love him.

Lukas and Anna startled him out of his uncomfortable thoughts.

“Oh, is he asleep?”

“Yes. I suppose— well— falling from heaven, or whatever, then getting hit by a car, is very tiring.”

“I suppose. Has he talked to you at all?”

“Um…” Panic fluttered in his breast but he battered it down. “A little. He feels sad and homesick and doesn’t really understand what’s happening. I would have thought he’d have been more scared.”

“He’s an angel. What do we know of how their minds work?”

****

Pasha insisted on sleeping downstairs with the angel. He remembered the look of panic on his face when he thought Pasha was going to leave him alone and thought it was safer that way. He couldn’t stand that screech. That was the entire reason, of course, for wanting to sleep close to the angel. It was the screech, and the fact that the angel was alone and scared and… and it had nothing whatever to do with the fact that he might be an angel but he was hotter than hell…

Now go check out the rest of the flashers

MA Church     m/m

MC Houle      m/m

Tali   m/m

Julie Lynn Hayes m/m

Art

An Update on the wonderful art produced by my friend Maria. These are a series of Lighter Brighter paintings done for the summer. There will also be a new one by me at the bottom.

AND SOME SLIGHTLY DARKER ONES

AND THIS ONE IS MINE

It's part of an experiment painting on a blackened canvas. There are two other in series so far

Calling All Film Makers

What is the Philip K Dick International Film Festival of Science Fiction, Fantastic Film, Science and the Supernatural, apart from a hell of a mouthful to spit out without taking a breath?

The mission of the Philip K Dick Film Festival is to promote original or adapted material inspired by the works of Philip K Dick, Jorge Luis Borges, Italo Calvino, Robert Anton Wilson, Franz Kafka and others who have explored the metaphysical, the eerie in all its manifestations.

They 'look at films that push the cinematic form to new levels of creativity and originality without sacrificing narrative cohesion and with an eye to the ineffable'. 

They're looking for films that push boundaries and challenge reality from all genres.

Interested?

Check  Here for more information, rules and submission guidelines.

An exciting opportunity for all the film makers out there.

Wednesday Brief - Meeting the Angel

So here we are at Wednesday again and time to flash our briefs. This week I was in some difficulty as, in my usual style I've written ahead of myself and had a problem fitting in the prompt after the event. In the end I had to 'strain' it a little. The prompt was to include a dessert :)

Anna came hurrying into the hall as they were stumbling through the door, the angel slung between them. When she saw him she screamed.

The angel’s head jerked up and he answered her with the chilling screech he’d made in the car. It shattered the glass vase on the table. The sound of smashing glass shocked both of them into silence.

“What the fuck is that?”

“I’m not sure. I think it’s an angel.”

“You think?” Recovering from her shock, Anne hurried forward and touched the angel’s face, brushing the sodden hair away to look into his eyes. They were even more startlingly blue than they’d seemed in the yard. “You poor thing. What happened to you?”

“I hit her with the car.”

“Him,” Pasha corrected and Lukas looked at him, confused. Hauling the angel straighter, Pasha nodded at the evidence.

“Oh,” Lukas and Anna chorused.

“Well, I don’t care if it’s a ‘him’ or a ‘her’, the poor thing’s soaking wet, cold as hell and maybe hurt. Bring him through.”

Anne preceded them into the living room and dragged a throw off one of the chairs, spreading it on the sofa. It took some doing to get the angel settled. Finally he was pretty much lying down, propped up on cushions stuffed around his wings. He didn’t look too comfortable but at least they could get a good look at him. And boy was there plenty to see. Pasha had to look away.

“Get some alcohol from the kitchen Pasha, and some hot tea… and there’s a first aid box under the sink.”

“Yes ma’am.” With bad grace he slouched from the room and found the kitchen. Gathering the things he’d been sent for he hurried back, juggling a bottle of dessert wine, mug of tea and box he assumed was the first aid kit.

By the time he got back, Anna had covered the angel with a blanket, for which he was glad. He just wasn’t used to looking at that kind of perfection. It was unsettling.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Anna said and took the cup from Pasha. She held it out to the angel who stared at it but made no move to take it. Anna helped him sit up a little and held the mug for him to sip. At first he burned his mouth but after Anna had explained carefully about it being hot, he tried again and sighed with pleasure. “There you go darling. Is that making you feel warmer?”

The angel stared at her with his unnervingly direct gaze. He smiled but didn’t look as if he’d understood what she said. She knelt down and took his hand.

“Do you understand what we’re saying? Do you speak our language?”

The angel’s eyes flicked from Anna, to Lukas, to Pasha and back. He nodded. “I… understand.” His voice was light and musical, but didn’t have the same strange tone they’d heard at the roadside. This time it could have belonged to… well, a human. It was think with an accent no one could place.

“What’s your name?” Anna asked gently, holding his gaze.

The angel closed his eyes and frowned. Then he shook his head. “I knew once. Now I know not.”

“Oh fucking great,” Lukas snapped. “It wasn’t enough I had to run over a fucking angel, it’s an angel that can’t even remember his name.”

“Hush, Luke,” Anna admonished then smiled at the angel who was looking alarmed and a little frightened. “It’s alright,” she said laying a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to remember, not just yet. Do you remember anything?”

“Swords,” he said quickly. “Swords and wings and darkness.” His eyes took on a distant look and he frowned in concentration. “Fire and blood and birds, black birds. Little black birds.” He shook his head and looked at Anna. “I might have dreamed.”

“You might have. Do you hurt anywhere?”

The angel nodded. “I’m bruised but there is nothing damaged beyond repair. My wing… my wing is sore. I don’t think it will fly me for a while.”

“That’s alright. You don’t have to fly anywhere. You can stay with us until you’re feeling better, until you remember.”

The angel nodded and reached for the mug, guiding it to his lips to drink again with obvious enjoyment.

“Are you hungry?” Anna asked and the angel thought about it.

“I don’t remember what… hungry is.”

“Do you need to eat?”

“Eat?”

“Food. No, never mind. I’ll get something for you. Just rest and keep warm.”

As she passed, she pulled Lukas aside. “I think the poor thing must have hit his head. I’d really like to get him checked over by a doctor but that’s not an option is it?”

Lukas shook his head. “We have to be careful. If people find out… Who knows what they might do.”

“True. Come help me in the kitchen.”

Left alone with the angel, Pasha found himself without anything to say.

“You were first.”

“What?” Pasha jumped. He hadn’t expected the angel to speak.

“You were first… to help me.”

“I… I guess so.”

“Come to me.” Without quite knowing why, Pasha found himself drawn to the angel and knelt on the floor beside the couch. The angel studied him carefully. Pasha grew more and more uncomfortable under the steady gaze. He picked at the hem of the blanket to distract himself. The angel raised his hand and touched Pasha’s face. His hand was cold. The touch sent chills through him. “You… looked at me… differently.”

“Differently? What do you mean?” Despite his nervousness, Pasha was intrigued.

“Differently to the other one. Differently when you saw I am a man. You… desire me.”

It wasn’t a question but Pasha shook his head vehemently. “No, no of course I don’t… I…” The angel silenced him. With an iron grip on the back of his head, he pulled him down and kissed him.

Now go check out the other flashers for their wonderful stories.

MA Church    m/m

LM Brown    m/m

Michael Mandrake   m/m

Tali     m/m

Julie Lynn Hayes  m/m