The Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook asks its members to share six sentence snippets from their work each weekend. Check out the group's Facebook page to read all the snippets and add lots of great books to your TBR. You'll find all sorts of books with the common thread that the main character identifies as LGBTQ.
As much as I've been enjoying snippeting from The Spymaster's Secret—I sometimes forget how much I love that book and Alexander and Marcus's dynamic!—I decided to switch over to The Prince's Consort for March, since this is the month the book was rereleased four years ago. The Prince's Consort was my first published book, which means I look at things sometimes I think that I would've written them differently. But I still love the story and the characters. It's a prince/commoner romance between Amory, whose horrible merchant father basically tries to trade him to the prince for more favorable treatment and business, and Philip, the crown prince of Tournai who absolutely agrees that Amory's father is horrible. He also has some very big secrets. Here is Philip's first sight of Amory.
Philip’s mouth dried, his breath caught in his throat, and he stared. At the curling auburn hair and the slender, lithe body dressed in well-cut, well-made clothes. At the rich brown eyes staring back at him. They went almost comically wide and startled, but the young man didn’t look away, and Philip couldn’t bring himself to either. A delightful blush stained the stranger’s cheeks, and Philip wanted to grin. Who was this man?
A soft noise--Cathal clearing his throat--brought his attention back to where it should be. Arnau stood in front of the dais, flanked by the two other men and slightly in front of them, a supercilious expression on his face. Philip reminded himself again that Arnau owned the foremost glassmaking operation in Tournai.
“Master Arnau.”
“Good afternoon, Your Highness. I am always honored to receive an invitation to the palace.” Arnau gave him another half bow, his tone an odd mix of self-important and ingratiating. As if he had been invited to the palace for a social engagement, not to give an accounting of himself. “You have met my son Alban previously. This is my second son, Amory.”