Not So Dark Fantasy

I have been sharing all kinds of things about the project I'm currently working on, which is more of a journey into epic fantasy than I have explored before. That's not to say I haven't written any fantasy but it's been more contemporary, set in "our world"

Although not taking influence from any particular fairytale, I would say that Fairies at the Bottom of the Garden is a modern fairytale with some very real issues that concern humans and fairies alike

NineStar Press
Amazon 

Blurb

All Keiron wants is a quiet life. Fat chance with a boyfriend like Bren. But if he thought Bren complicated his life, that was nothing compared to the complications that begin when he opens the door to what he thinks is a naked boy claiming to be his slave.

Draven is a fairy with his sights set on the handsome human who keeps a wild place in the garden for fairies. When Draven slips through a fairy gate into the city, he sets in motion a series of events that binds him to Keiron forever, and just might be the end of him.

While Draven explores Keiron’s world with wide-eyed wonder, Keiron does everything he can to keep Draven’s at bay, until the only way to save Draven and bring him home is to step into a world that should exist only in children stories.

Excerpt

“I wondered. Why humans don’t change, I mean. I kind of figured it’s because they can’t.” Now his voice was full of pity. Then he sniffed again at the coffee. “What’s that?”

“It’s coffee. A hot drink. Would you like some?”

Draven grinned at him. “Ooh yes, yes please.”

“Would you like sugar and milk?”

“Ooh, you have milk? I love milk. What did you milk? A cat? A stoat?”

“Draven, you can’t milk a cat.”

“You can’t?” He turned thoughtful. “Maybe I should tell them.”

“Tell who what?”

“The cats. Tell them they can’t be milked. They won’t like it. Neither will the High Lord. He likes cat milk and—”

“You milk cats?”

“Well…yes. I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to.”

“It’s not that you’re not supposed to; it’s just—” Keiron broke off. He could imagine the conversation. There just wasn’t any point. “It’s cow’s milk.”

“Cows?” Draven’s eyes went wide. “You milk cows?”

“Not me personally, but yes.”

“But they’re so…big.” His eyes were round, and his mouth hung open. Then he shook his head. “Of course. You’re big too. Ah. I suppose cats would be too small, huh? They don’t give very much, and only when they want to.”

“Will you stop talking about milking cats? Do you want milk in your coffee or not?”

“I’ve never tasted cow’s milk. I’d like to try.”

Keiron poured a cup of coffee while Draven watched, fascinated. He carefully poured in milk and handed it over. Draven closed his hand around it, then yelped and dropped it. “Ow, ow, ow,” he sang, dancing on the spot and clutching his hand. “It hurt me. It hurt me.”

“It’s hot, Draven. It’s made with boiling water. Of course it’s going to hurt if you hold on to it like that.”

“Boiling water? What do you mean? How do you make it hot?”

“It’s boiled in a kettle. Let me see that hand.”

Obediently, Draven held out his hand. It was red but there was no sign it was going to blister. Keiron led him to the tap and ran the cold water over his hand. Draven smiled and gazed up into Keiron’s eyes. His face was streaked with tears, which had already dried. He looked…

Keiron dropped his hand and turned away. “You’ve made another mess.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Let me clean it up.” Draven pushed past Keiron and started moving things out of the puddle of coffee. All he succeeded in doing was allowing the puddle to get bigger. The box of cereal was soaked and, as Draven lifted it, the bottom gave way, spilling cereal all over the table. Yanking back his hand, he knocked over the jug of orange juice and sent fruit rolling onto the floor.

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll—” In his haste to try to catch the rolling fruit and stand up the jug and gather the cereal, his foot turned on a rolling apple and he fell backwards, landing on his bottom on the floor with the cereal in his lap and a puddle of spilled milk spreading from between his legs.

With a trembling lip and tear-bright eyes, Draven sat on the floor and stared up at Keiron, sniffing. He was dejected and so comical, Keiron just couldn’t stop himself from laughing. After a shocked look, Draven grinned and started to giggle too. Keiron held out his hand and Draven took it, hauling himself to his feet while trying ineffectually to brush himself down.

“I think it might be a good idea if you changed out of those wet clothes and leave the clearing up to me. Again.”

The giggling stopped and Draven looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry.”

Keiron grinned. "Don’t worry about it. Go get changed.”

As Draven skipped towards the stairs, dripping milk on the carpet, Keiron turned back to the mess that was his kitchen. He groaned. If he’d thought Bren’s friends were bad, this was so much worse. It was crazy. He couldn’t put up with it. All he wanted was a quiet life—to go to work, come home, and relax in a clean and tidy house with no hassles and the occasional forage out into Bren’s bright, exciting life when he felt up to it. He liked everything in its place, even the chaos. He had a feeling this chaos could never be put in any place other than right where it wanted to be.

As he cleaned up the mess, he decided that, as soon as Draven returned, he was going to find out how to get rid of him once and for all. It was bad enough having Bren around the house, but Draven was one step too far.