It's weekend and time again to share a six sentence snippet for the Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook. Today's snippet comes from The Artist's Masquerade. We're in Flavian's point of view, and he's just a bit annoyed that his plans have begun to go awry. (And yes, I went a little over six sentences, but they're short sentences, so we can let it slide this once, right?)

He wanted to hit something. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry, and he hadn’t done that in years.

When the bedroom door opened behind him, he whirled around and stumbled as the skirts of his gown wrapped around his legs. He bit back a curse. He was supposed to be done with women’s clothes, but there he was, still in a dress.

He glared at Velia, whose face was lit with amusement she wasn’t even trying to hide. “Don’t say a word,” he snapped.

​“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

​

Don't forget to visit the Facebook group page to read the rest of this weekend's fantastic snippets. Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!

It's the end of January (already?), and it seems like a good time to talk about what I've been up to in my writing. The first round of edits for The Scholar's Heart appeared in my inbox last week a bit earlier than I expected. It was a lot of fun getting back into Etan and Tristan's story and being reminding of how much I enjoyed it and the characters. I used my snowed in weekend during the blizzard to work through the edits. It was a productive use of the time, but I was a little burned out at the end of it. I'm blaming this week being less productive than I would have liked on pushing through the edits so quickly and my brain being tired after.

The edits are turned in, and the second round will be on its way soon enough, I'm sure. In the meantime, I'm also working on the fourth Tournai book. As I said I didn't make as much progress as I would have liked this week, but I'll get back into it. Today is a writing day for me, and I'm hoping to make some good progress so I can get it finished and submitted to DSP soon.

And for something unrelated to writing updates, Dreamspinner Press is having a sale right now (ending on the 31st) so you can stock up on weekend reading material. Everything in the store is 30%, so my books are $4.89 each (and paperbacks are on sale too). It's a great time to buy if you haven't yet and you're so inclined. Also there's a Goodreads giveaway right now for a signed copy of The Artist's Masquerade. You can enter here:

I'm happy to have fellow Dreamspinner Press author Qaida Harte here today with an excerpt of her novel, Dragon's Treasure. (Isn't that cover beautiful?) Welcome, Qaida!
​

College student Ahndrai has the ill fortune of falling into the grasp of an attractive, sadistic vampire. He encounters Eita, a vampire who lusts for Ahndrai's sweet blood and tears apart his world. Eita proves that every myth and legend ever written is only too real, and they are far darker than portrayed in any story.

Ahndrai must face a host of monsters that Eita allows to attack and kill him. Each time Ahndrai dies, Eita revives him so he can continue to feed off him. Ahndrai believes that every creature is as cruel and unforgiving as Eita. Then Nakiirn, a dragon prince, rescues Ahndrai. But even after Ahndrai overcomes his fears and falls in love with Nakiirn, they must both contend with Eita's cruelty again before the vampire succeeds in claiming Ahndrai once more.

Buy Dragon's Treasure:
Dreamspinner Press
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
All Romance ebooks
Also available on iBooks and Google Play
​

I was lying in his bed, the sheets tumbling over my body like tiny mountains, and Nakiirn hovered over me. Much like the past few nights in his room, he ran his hands through my hair, his soothing touch making my eyes drift close. His rumbling Drakonic voice filled the room.
“Hatviere daline nalie irillie na.”
The words were music in my ears. He said them slowly, letting them rumble into the room on a low whisper. Then Nakiirn said several other things to me, none of which I understood. I was only beginning to pick up on some words he used often, even though I didn’t know what they meant. All I knew was that it put me into a peaceful sleep, and that was all I wanted. The more he spoke to me, the more I drifted off, until I was inside the sweet dreams he wove for me.
The first time he’d done it, I’d been having a nightmare, and he had come into my room and slipped into my dreams, changing them. When I woke, he explained what he had done and why. Since then, I’d let him weave his power however he wanted. Sometimes he would have me dream of a beach, other times a rain forest with all of its wonderful sounds echoing around me. The dreams were always different.
Sometimes they were rather fantastical, and such was the dream he created for me right then. He put me in another forest. The dew smelled amazing, filling my senses with pine and damp wood. I was seated on a fallen log, the sunlight filtering through the dark green leaves. Golden rays of light sparkled with the natural dust that lingered in the forest. What came through the trees were things I’d never seen before. They were small, no larger than house cats. Six colorful creatures came out of the forest and scampered up to me.
Oddly, I wasn’t afraid of them.
They resembled lizards, except they had long necks that reminded me of dinosaurs. Leathery wings flapped along their backs, and they had little feet with thick claws digging into the earth. Horns lined their bodies. Not one of them was like another—they were blue, green, purple, orange, red, and white. They were little dragons. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did, and I didn’t run away from them as they fluttered around me. They played with one another, tumbling and rolling while I laughed.
A couple of them climbed onto me. To my surprise, they felt like velvet. They were warm little furnaces too. They chattered at me, squeaking and clicking at such a fast pace that it was just sound with no substance at all. The white one got into my lap after climbing up my arm and chirping in my ear for a minute. The adorable little creature turned and turned in circles before curling up in a ball and going to sleep. I rubbed my hand along its back, enjoying how soft the little dragon felt.
That was the entirety of the dream, watching them play with one another while I stroked the sleeping one. I listened to the others as they came and climbed over me, talking to me about whatever it was they were wanting to say. Through it all, I smiled and laughed. It felt wonderful, but I could only do it in my dreams.
“Treasure.” Nakiirn’s voice stirred me.
I opened my eyes. I had been enjoying that particular dream, and Nakiirn seemed to know that. He grinned at me, looking rather pleased with himself. I took a slow breath as I started to wake up from my fantasies. Shifting around on the bed, I pulled the covers up to try to go back to sleep, but Nakiirn laughed and pulled the blankets back down.
“Are you not hungry? I will make you breakfast.”
I grumbled a little as my stomach betrayed me. “Yes, I’m hungry,” I answered in defeat. I wanted to stay there for a while longer, but I did want to eat. I also knew that if I asked, Nakiirn would weave that dream again and put me back to sleep. However, I needed to get up. I had never slept all day before, and I didn’t intend to start. With a yawn, I stretched and sat up.
Nakiirn moved with me. “May I touch you?”
I nodded. It didn’t bother me all that much if he touched me without asking, but he still asked. If it was anyone else, I would freak out—but I had gotten used to Nakiirn’s touch, since he did it so often. His hand curved along the back of my shoulders, and I closed my eyes at the simple caress that eased my muscles all the same. Nakiirn curled his hand under my arm and against my side and pulled me to him.
The sheets shifted as my body went, bunching up in a little pile between us. There was something different in the way he held me. His arms wrapped around me, securing me against his bare chest. Looking up at him, his crystalline eyes made me shiver. Nakiirn was staring at me with a kind of heat that made me stiffen in his grip. Tilting his head a little, he ran one hand up my back, the other curling into my hair at the back of my skull.
“I have an intense desire to kiss you. But I will not if you do not wish it.”
His words stole my breath. I could feel my face igniting as I blushed. Nakiirn wanted to kiss me? Oh… God. I wasn’t ready for that. My reaction had me pushing against his chest to get some distance. No matter how much I liked his touch, the idea of kissing him led to a variety of awful thoughts. He would kiss me, then that kiss would turn violent, and as Eita had described to me, Nakiirn would fuck me. And all of that would end in being eaten.
 Nakiirn must have noticed, because he loosened his hold and I leaned farther away from him, keeping him at arm’s length as if that was going to protect me. I trembled as I stared at him, watching his every move in fear. Sure, it had been months, and all he’d done was touch me lightly with no intimate intentions, but to bring up being kissed…. I wasn’t ready. His words brought horrible memories, and all I could think about was Eita. My heart was racing. I whimpered as I shook my head hard enough to make myself dizzy. 
“No.” I was lucky I hadn’t screamed the word at him. There was enough fear in my voice to make up for that, though. 
“I am so sorry, my treasure. I did not mean to frighten you,” Nakiirn’s answer was quick and spoken in hushed tones.
Nakiirn eased me back into the mattress, drawing the sheets up over me as his voice began to fill the room. I began to relax again the more he spoke. I was falling back asleep as he drew away from me. Nakiirn sat on the edge of the bed as he spoke, his hand drawing circles along my arm and shoulder. I was thankful that he hadn’t forced himself on me—surprised that he hadn’t, but thankful all the same. It didn’t take long, so I was convinced he was using a little more power than usual to ease my stress and nerves. Nakiirn started up the dream of those adorable little dragons again.
In minutes I forgot all about why I was so worked up. Instead, I sat on that log in my dreams and smiled as the baby dragons played around me.
​

About Qaida:

Qaida Harte is a new author with Dreamspinner Press.

Qaida has been writing for most of her life and has always dreamed of being published. Her preferred genres are modern fantasy and erotica. Action and danger are a must in the themes of her projects, as well as that steamy romance to help ease all the heart ache.

She currently resides in the beautiful town of Reno, Nevada with her wonderful husband. Days are spent pounding away on a keyboard with a hot cup of coffee and music blasting. There is an endless amount of characters and dark plots weaving and too little time to get them all done.

Contact Qaida:

Website / Twitter / Email: qaida.harte@gmail.com
 

A Goodreads giveaway for a signed paperback copy of The Artist's Masquerade begins today and runs until February 17th. You can see the giveaway details and enter if you like by clicking the giveaway widget below.

Dreamspinner Press is having a storewide sale this week: 30% off everything, ebooks and paperbacks. It's a great time to try the Chronicles of Tournai books if you haven't yet, and to stock up for your next snow day reading needs!

For this week's snippet, I wanted to post something related to snow, since where I am we're in the midst of a very snowy weekend (and it's a good bit of what I've been thinking about the last few days), but then I realized that none of my books have snow in them. Instead I went with a snippet of Amory and Philip from The Prince's Consort getting cozy and warm inside while it's cold and rainy outside.

Visit the Rainbow Snippets group page to see the rest of this week's six sentence snippets. And stay warm and safe if you're in the path of this storm!

I didn't plan to write about snow and snow days this week, but apparently we're in for a big snow storm this weekend, and so I've been thinking about snow. I loved snow and snow days when I was a kid. I hoped for snow days from school whenever the forecast called for snow, and really not much has changed. I still think snow is something magical (until I have to worry about roads being clear or driving in it - not so magical then) and still love the idea of a snow day (until I have to worry about work). So, as with so much, my views on snow conflict a bit, whether I'm thinking like an adult or a kid. I don't think we have to say which one is more fun.

I got lucky this time, though. I managed to switch around my work schedule so I don't need to leave my house for the whole weekend if I don't want to. It can snow as much as it wants, and I can sit inside and watch it fall. My plans involve large amounts of hot cocoa and my laptop. Uninterrupted hours of writing Tournai #4 and editing The Scholar's Heart await me, and when I need a break, I can curl up with a book. It's actually very tempting to read the whole weekend away, but I'm excited enough about writing and edits are going well enough that I can conquer temptation. Mostly. What's a snowy weekend without a good book after all?

Writing, editing, reading while the snow falls...it all sounds kind of blissful right now. I just have to decide what to read. What will you be reading this weekend?

I've just joined the Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook, which invites authors to post six sentences from their work each weekend. My six sentences this weekend are from The Prince's Consort. This is when Philip first sees Amory.

See all of this week's snippets on the group page.

I wasn't sure what I felt like blogging about today. I don't have much new to share with you. (Still writing Tournai #4, and The Scholar's Heart edits are drawing ever closer.) There is a paperback sale this weekend at Dreamspinner Press - 50% off all paperbacks - so if you're a paperback lover, it's a great time to buy. And today is the last day to vote in Round 2 of Sinfully's Readers Choice Awards, if you're inclined to vote for me or any of the other great authors nominated. Big thank you to everyone who has already voted! You are the best! And that's probably enough promo-type things for today.

I woke up today kind of just wanting to take the day off writing (since this is a writing day) and curl up with a blanket and a book. And hot chocolate. Maybe a cookie. Mostly I think I'm in need of a reading day when I don't have to do anything except sink into a book - a new one or an old favorite - or when I don't expect myself to do anything else. I used to have a day, or at least an afternoon, of that most weeks, but I can't remember the last time I took one. I really can't remember the last time I took one without feeling guilty. Which isn't good. We all need to relax; it's part of taking care of ourselves. (Something I fully admit I forget sometimes.) Today isn't going to be my day to nothing except read, today I really do have to get some words of my own on the pages, but I'm going to have to take one soon. Find a book that I'm excited to read, or pull out an old favorite. Try to turn off the part of my brain that reads critically as a writer and just enjoy (definitely more difficult than it should be). Escape into another words or another time in someone else's story.

For now I'll plan to stop writing a little earlier today and steal some time with one of my favorite comfort reads: Widdershins by Jordan L Hawk. I'm in the mood for a reread. What are some of your favorite comfort reads? What are you reading this weekend?

Fellow Dreamspinner Press author Ki Brightly is here today sharing an excerpt from The Shape of Honey. Welcome, Ki!
​

Yulian Volkov is an entrepreneur and lone werewolf who hates the city. At a pack meeting, he learns the only member he’s attracted to is being expelled for crimes unspecified. Yulian strikes a deal with the pack leader to allow Rolly Witten to live on his farm and work in his Meadery. Although enjoying handsome Rolly’s company, Yulian must tread carefully, since Rolly doesn’t trust him and the pack doesn’t acknowledge homosexuality exists. Meanwhile, Yulian stealthily courts Rolly by teaching him the value of his wolf side.

Rolly, who’s known he was gay since he was a teen, has accepted a life of solitude—and a life of crime. He has no desire to relocate. Yet Yulian’s trust in his ability to do honest work builds his confidence. As life is settling well for them, Rolly learns a friend from his old pack had a crush on him, and he’s torn between returning his friend’s feelings or pursuing the budding relationship with Yulian. But that’s not their worst problem. Assassins are trying to take out both wolves, and they need to figure out who wants them dead or all the trust and happiness they’re building together won’t matter.

​Length: 350 Pages

Buy The Shape of Honey:
​DSP ebook
DSP paperback
Amazon ebook
Amazon paperback

This is a longer excerpt. We’re in Yulian Volkov’s head. He’s a werewolf and an entrepreneur. He takes both seriously…but not too seriously. -Ki Brightly

Evil. I know I’m being evil, but I grin and wink before sprinting for the shoreline. The water is a frigid shock as I splash in to swim out a short distance. The wind from the lake is clean. The water is clear and shallow. I can see the bottom of the lake in every direction spreading out sandy and dotted with rocks. I have nothing but exuberant gratification for the pulsing life in my veins while I stand dripping in the hot sun. I glance skyward, hoping for a half-cloaked glimpse of a pale version of the moon’s face in the sky, but the sun is too bright or it just isn’t there. I sink under a wave and come up wiping the droplets of water off my face with my hands. Gunshots blast my awareness back to the shore. My heart stutters before picking up double time.
Hell. I turn back to the beach in time to see Rolly finish unloading the Savage on a naked man crawling out of the underbrush near the tree line. He’s a mess, a bloody cracked-bone and leaking-innards mess, the likes of which I haven’t seen in a good while. A battlefield mess. The stench hits me, the rotting, foul stench of serpent. It’s not the same sick sweet of human. I’m almost surprised the blood is the shocking red it is, leaking out onto the sand. The dead man’s face is… gone. The brown hair on the scalp is matted. There were nine shots in the clip, all silver shot, and Rolly fires until the gun clicks dry. A grim satisfaction fills me as I watch him finish our kill from last night, witness him prove to himself and me that he is capable, can take care of himself. He’s an avenging angel with the gun snug to his shoulder. Part of my reaction is the moon. She puts us more in touch with our wolves, and the wolf is far more concerned with protecting our little pack than the right to life of a serpent who dared to slither his way into my territory. His death is… right. He tasted my blood, and my… my Rolly spilled his. I tread water, spread my fingers, and glory in the hedonistic sensations of my body cutting through the lake. Drifting. My erection doesn’t lose strength, fueled on by the happy thought that Rolly’s protecting me. He killed for me. Killed for our pack.
An insistent swirl of want pulses in my shaft.
“Fucking fuck, Yulian.” The way he yells my name sends a spike of worry into my core, dragging me away from my animal mind and spurring me to action. I force myself out of the water. Allowing gravity to tug at my body is unpleasant, but I’m closer to Rolly and his kill and that’s not. The sand is warm and sticks to the bottom of my feet. He’s not happy. I give in to my baser instincts, pulling him close when I reach him, snugging my body tight to his. I nuzzle my face against the cloth covering his shoulder. He’s unhappy? He gasps, whether from my touch or the cold wetness from my dip I don’t know.
“Thank you.” There’s an edge of a growl in my voice. He responds to it, curving his body around mine, sagging against me. He draws me closer to himself, nose in the hair at the top of my head. If he’s uncomfortable with my arousal, he doesn’t say as much. Maybe the dead body has something to do with his distraction? His chest expands under my cheek while he drags air into his lungs over and over, deep breaths. His muscles tremble and, finally, something holding him back breaks apart, and his arms wrap around me and grip me tight. The gun digs into my lower back because he still has both hands on the barrel even though he’s got me so tight to his body I can hear his heart beating. Time slips by and he gradually steps away, separating his body from mine. His eyes search mine, a lost look on his face. The frown tugging down his lips makes the dimple on his chin deeper. It takes a good breeze full of the scent of serpent blood to calm me, bring me back into the moment and away from the desire to ride his body here on the beach.
Dear god, the moon is blanketing my mind today, making this dance much harder.
“It’s a body,” he murmurs into my ear, eyes fixed on a point over my shoulder. The blood from the serpent is starting to irritate my nose. I’d like to scrub it from existence. Maybe we can burn it? No… that will simply put the stench into the air. I might have worked up some guilt over the death, but he’d attacked Rolly. Today he may have been looking for aid, but last night he would have devoured him. Unforgivable.
“Yes,” I answer him with a shrug.
“There’s… there’s a dead body on your private beach.”
“So it seems,” I sigh. I didn’t want to do the work of hiding a body today, but he’s too large to leave as carrion.
“Well, what the fuck do we do with that?” he asks, raising his voice as he drops the gun to the sand. Quickly, I retrieve it, frowning at him. If I make him clean them a few times, maybe he won’t be so fast to leave my guns lying around. Damn it. That reminds me. I scan the beach for the jingal and frown when I see it.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have shot him?” I’m trying to make a point, but he closes off immediately, taking a step back from me. I wish I would have kept my thoughts to myself. He did what was necessary and now I will too.
“I…. Can I have my life back, please?”
“If you hadn’t shot him, we might have been able to find some information first, but if you want a reason why you shouldn’t have done it, that’s the only one I have.” I want to comfort him, but I have no words or patience for it. I consider the body. “And this is making work for us on a full moon. That sucks too.” I squat down to measure the man with my eyes. Maybe we could just wrap him up really well in some tarps and drop him in the basement of the Meadery. Deal with it tomorrow? That seems like a bad idea. “Better go get the shovels,” I mumble to myself.
“You don’t care that I killed a man, do you?”
“He’s the selfsame serpent you were terrified of. He tried to kill us. Now he’s not a worry.” I shrug. No. I don’t care a lick.
“But… he’s a man now… he doesn’t… he’s a man.”
“He’s both just like we’re both.” He stomps away from me and back, taking the gun, slinging it over his shoulder again as he glares at me.
“I don’t want to be both,” he says petulantly. In that moment I can see how much younger than me he is, but maybe that isn’t fair. How is he not more connected to himself? He is his wolf. It makes no sense.
“There’s nothing to be done for it, and there’s nothing to be done for the body. We’ll have to get rid of it,” I say as blandly as possible, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. I’m not sure I did though when he gives me an assessing look and steps back from me another few feet.
“How?”
“Bury him, I suppose. I would weight him down in the lake, but I don’t want to swim with him.”
“I’m going be sick.”
“If this makes you queasy, you should refrain from asking me about the war.”
“Ugh. Mother fuck, Yulian. You’re a stone-cold motherfucker, you know that? That’s a dead man.” He squints into the sun, grip tight on his gun.
Frowning at him, I stand as I brush sand from my hands. “Would you like for me to feel badly about it? And what? Call the cops? Call Dean and tell him we murdered one of his men? Ask if they would like to collect the body for a cheap funeral?”
“I… no… I… what the fuck? I can’t expect humanity from you?” He looks hurt, like I’ve betrayed him somehow, but I have to make the decisions that protect us both.
“Not in this.”
That shut him up, and not in a way I would have liked. He’s upset. His musk is tinged with something I don’t enjoy. It isn’t fear, but it’s close, and it’s because of me, or at least because I can’t pretend to care that this creature is dead. It doesn’t take long to trek back out to the barn, taking with me the long rifle Rolly dumped on the beach last night. He will be cleaning it, I decide as I tramp through the woods with shovels. When we’re staring down at the mess again, it seems like it might be easier to dig up the sand rather than dig a hole in the woods. If we hit water, it won’t matter too much because it will make the corpse decompose faster. I start digging beside the body so we can dump it in, my mind wandering back over all the holes I’ve helped to dig over the years. I didn’t think I’d be digging one so soon after bringing Rolly to my home.
“What are you doing?” His tense face squints around the beach as if he expects someone to come charging in to ask what we’re doing with a dead body. The wrinkle between his brows begs me to smooth it with a finger. I stop, jamming the shovel into the sand to lean against it.
“Digging a hole.” I nod to him, then continue, my shovel lifting the sand out of the growing hole and over my shoulder steadily. He doesn’t interrupt me again until the hole is well over my head.
“How are you going to get out of there?” He leans over the opening to look down at me so the only thing I can see is the dazzle of sunlight around his head like a halo.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t leave me down here.” I grin. I’m covered in sweat and sand, but the burn of the physical labor is nice. I can’t wait to take a dip in the lake. When I’ve decided the hole is deep enough, I stop and toss the shovel out. Rolly lends me an arm to help me climb up. I have a fine coating of sand on me. It’s uncomfortable, but the body needs to be at the bottom of the misshapen oblong hole I dug before I can do anything about it, so I wipe my hands on my swim trunks and consider it. With all the gore, I don’t want to touch the remains. I take the shovel to start pushing at the body, but it’s not budging or in enough pieces to shove them down one by one. I’m actually going to have to pick it up to move it. Sighing, I toss my shovel aside and bend down, grabbing a mostly intact leg. When I lift there’s a sickening sucking sound. I stop before I have a leg in my hand , dropping it to the ground.
“Will you—” I cut myself off when Rolly makes a dainty gagging noise behind his hand. Either it came from him or a mouse, but with the unnatural paleness of his face making him look like a blue-eyed ghost, it must have been him. I don’t intend to laugh, but once I start, it gets a little out of hand. He glares at me, giving me a look I don’t know I’ve ever gotten from anyone as he flips me off.
“I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, so stop it, but… I’ll do just about anything in the world if you don’t make me touch…. Why does it smell so bad?… fuck…. Please?” he says widening his eyes and pouting. Oh, he’s used this before, but it works, my gut twisting, my hard-on that had wilted with the physical labor more than happy to start firming back up, accompanied by a warm rush of awareness.
“Oh… now… that’s an offer I can consider. What will you give me?” I’m flirting over a corpse. I… let it never be said something new doesn’t happen every single day. I smile my brightest smile and relax, hands resting lightly on my hips.
“I… uh….”
“Come, now. You can’t think of a single thing you’d give me after making the offer?”
“Clean your house?”
“You’re already doing it.”
“Work for you at the Meadery?”
“You’ve already technically started there.”
“Well, what then?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I say with another grin and throw in a wink. I drop down to my knees, put both hands on the largest intact piece of the body, the torso, dig my feet into the sand, and push. It’s not as easy as it should be because of the sand, but there isn’t far to go. Good old-f ashioned ingenuity. Why doesn’t everyone dig a hole beside the corpse? Make life easier? With a solid exertion of effort I tumble the body into the hole, but a leg stays behind. Rolly gags again when I pick it up and drop it down. There’s a wet plop at the bottom. It sounds like water is already filling in the hole. Damn it. We will probably be able to smell this for a month or more. Frowning, I use the shovel to scoop up the bloody sand and toss it down into the hole too. No sense leaving evidence lying around, plus it smells to high hell. Rolly doesn’t seem to mind the blood as much. He uses his shovel to help me scoop the rest of the stained sand into the hole and then comes the easy part, packing the dirt and sand back in where it came from. By the time we’re done, the smell has significantly lessened, and even though there is a rounded mound where the body is, it’s probably going to settle out in a few days, and it doesn’t look that out of place after we toss some dry sand onto it.
“You’re pretty good at this whole… disposing-of-a-body disaster. Have you done this before?” he asks, following me to the edge of the lake. He stares out over the clear water, brushing back bangs that are a little too long. The water seems colder after warming up my muscles, so I wade out carefully. I wish he would strip down and come in with me.
“A few times, but never here.” When the water is deep enough and I dip under the surface. There’s an anxious moment while my ears aren’t tuned to the shore, where there’s nothing but the womb-like silence of the water around me, but when I surface, there are no gunshots. No yelling. My heartbeat slows back down to somewhere near normal. I rub the water off my face so I can be ready for anything, but the beach is as peaceful as it ever is.
“I’m sorry,” Rolly says as he bends down to lift something off the sand. It’s another piece of beach glass. He holds up the small red piece, letting it catch the sunlight, a wisp of a smile on his face, before he drops it into his pocket. How does he keep finding the red ones?
“Not your fault.”
He doesn’t say anything, but wanders farther down the beach. My instincts are yelling at me to track him and comfort him, but I swim out, striking for an outcropping of rocks a quarter mile from shore. When I get there I pull myself up onto them, frightening a few indignant seagulls, who wheel away, squawking at me. Settling in, it’s easy to watch him wandering the beach. He drops the Savage onto a bone-white log, not something I’m happy with while I spy, but he’s out of shells anyway. While I sit, the gentle breeze kicks up into a wind, pulling at his clothes, tossing his hair. It’s nice to see him mostly relaxed, pausing to skip a rock here and there. After a bit he stops, waves at me, and a thumping warmth in my chest spreads out to the rest of my body while I wave back. He’s going to be a large, solid man when he’s done growing. His shoulders are taking on a heavier appearance from what he was last year. His father was a mountain among hills, so it makes sense the son might follow, but he has his mother’s slimness, so perhaps he is done filling out? It will be a pleasure to see either way. I lean back to watch some clouds, my desire firm and heavy between my legs, the moon buzzing in my head as I drop back onto the sun-warmed rock.
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Ki Brightly is an author of short and lengthy erotic and romantic (and sometimes both) fiction.

Ki’s hobbies include painting, cooking, eating, and exercising (because of the cooking and eating). Ki is also an established beach bum during the late spring and summer months, which tends to cut into writing time. Occasionally, breaks are taken from the writing process to go to a day job and have snuggles with the husband and kiddos.

Endlessly curious, Ki enjoys reading a variety of books in every genre imaginable, but has been devouring urban fantasy and science fiction of late.

​Contact Ki:
Blog / Facebook / Tumblr / Goodreads
Twitter: @KiBrightly
Email: kibrightly@gmail.com