#be my valentine...snack

[rhodrymavelyne]

Be My Valentine...Snack

Christopher overcomes Duessa’s Final Challenge, doing what Damian could never do in Be My Valentine...Snack...

[rhodrymavelyne]

Promote, Strut, and Celebrate Your Me-ness!

Argghh! It’s the last Monday of March already??!! I still have so much to do!! (tries not pull out hair and chew on the carpet :))

First off, this is the last week of free story snippets at the Cauldrons. My characters are taking over next April. Yep, it’s Blogging From AZ and they’re discussing their Character Goals. I can get lost and go hang out at Camp NaNoWriMo or maybe my livejournal. Even my dreamwidth account want to do some Blogging From AZ.  It’s going to run a few fan tributes for various characters, like A is for Armand, B is for Buffy, D is for Drusilla, etc. 

I’m racing to finish A Symposium in Space, not getting nearly as much done as I’d like. If I fail to finish it by the end of the month, it’ll replace Aissa and Polyxena as my Camp NaNoWriMo project. I’d like to finish it.

In the meantime, there is a new part of Be My Valentine...Snack waiting at the Cauldron. Christopher has just discovered there were consequences to sharing his energy with a jealous Valentine. 

In addition, Quartz whacked me upside the imagination and reminded me that it’s also time for his monthly blog, Secondary Characters Speak Out. He’s taken over both the Forbidden Cauldron and my Facebook Author Page to interview Alkibiadea, the space pirate whom is about to a bigger part in my extended version of A Symposium in Space. One thing that bothered me about the original version is I had to cut her moment short, due to the word count. In the new edition, I’m hoping Alkibiadea will have more of a moment. :)

Asta Idonea and her new release, Souls for Sale were kind enough to stop by cauldronkeeper.livejournal.com. Feel free to stop by yourself and see what it’s all about! 

Enjoy! 

[rhodrymavelyne]

Promote, Strut, and Celebrate Your Me-ness!

These are the months of madness, muahahaha!! 

Yes,  I’m doing my best to cackle maniacally as I prepare for the Blogging From AZ April Project: Character Goals, extend A Symposium in Space, while preparing for Camp NaNoWriMo, plus all the other projects I’ve got going on. Whew!

I’m doing my best to keep up with Christopher’s adventures in ‘Be My Valentine...Snack’. The next part is posted at the Cauldron. 

Both of my Cauldrons are going to be hijacked by my characters in April who’ll be showing up every day (except Sunday) to talk about their goals, so they’ll be taking a break from their ongoing stories and freebie stories during the month. At the same time, they’ll both be getting a lot more lively, since a character will be showing up every day except Sunday. 

You can take a look at all of my published works at both my Amazon Author Page and my Ninestar Press Author page. 

Also did you know I write fanfic at Archive of Our Own? 

I’ll post all of my links shortly...

[rhodrymavelyne]

Promote, Strut, and Celebrate Your Me-ness

Thanks to a fellow Nine Star Press Author, I realized my books weren’t connected with my Amazon Author Page or my Nine Star Press Author Page. Happily that’s fixed. Whew!

‘Be My Valentine...Snack’ continues at the Cauldron. Peter may be a flirt, but Duessa Ashelocke is the wrong person to flirt with. 

Quartz struts his own stuff in his monthly column at the Forbidden Cauldron, ‘Secondary Characters Speak Out’, but Prince Charmless, er, Hugh isn’t the sort of person one wants to speak. At all. 

You can meet Prince Charmless and far more likable characters in ‘At Her Service’, if you decide to read Once Upon a Rainbow 2. It’s available for preorder at Nine Star Press. 

And if you like LGBTQ+ fairytales, don’t forget to check out Once Upon a Rainbow 1!

Enjoy!

[rhodrymavelyne]

If you’ve been following ‘Waiting for Rebirth’, only to see ‘Be My Valentine...Snack’, you may be wondering, “Who the #$% is Peter?”

Here’s a little introduction to the boy who replaced Damian in the Navel, only to find he couldn’t really replace Damian. This is from the beginning of ‘Unwilling to Be Yours’, a story from Peter’s perspective.

I’ve never liked hot weather. It causes a strange shimmer in the air, which rises off the stones of the street and all the shop walls. Plus, it makes my clothes stick to my skin, plastering both with sweat. I’ve been assured of my sexiness, when I’m sweating. Such assurances are less than assuring, when you feel gross. Plus, I like long sleeves and vests. T-shirts, tank tops, and shorts have never appealed to me.

The boy leaning against the Navel’s wall didn’t like the weather, either. I could tell from the scowl on his face and the sweat dripping off his brow. He should have expected it, wearing black jeans and a turtle neck in this heat. Not that he didn’t look pretty in both, especially with his hair. It might be a little too short, curling right below the ears, but the color more than made up for its shortness. It was a golden chestnut with bright copper and bronze highlights, which captured the light of the sun.

The boy didn’t look up at me, or even seem to notice I was there. He was grumbling, having an animated conversation with someone I couldn’t see.

“I hate being human, sometimes!” he growled. He shot a particularly malevolent glance at the sky. Perhaps he was talking to it? I might have worried more about in his sanity, if I hadn’t been so distracted by his appearance. I’d never seen so slender a boy, nor one with such delicate features. It made me wonder if he was actually a girl, but his voice was too low to be female. Not deep, not by any stretch of the imagination, but not female. “Why anyone would ever enjoy hot weather is beyond me!”

“I quite agree,” I said. I decided to take a step closer to him and act like he’d been talking to me. “There are far more agreeable ways in which to sweat.”

The boy nearly jumped out of his skin. His violet eyes, which were already too big for his small, heart-shaped face, got even wider.

Perhaps my joke had been a little too coarse for this shy little blossom, for that’s exactly what he seemed like to me at that moment.

“Excuse me, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, gentling my entire manner. “Is this the center of all things bizarre?” I knew quite well where I was, but perhaps using Gabrielle’s catch phrase for the Navel would put this boy at ease.

The boy stared at me. I smiled my most winning smile and waved a hand up at the sign hanging over the door. It was an old-fashioned sign using a picture, rather than a name. There was a woman’s belly and a woman’s belly button painted on the sign. It was cute. This little town was already called ‘Omphalos’, so having a shop called ‘The Navel’ in Omphalos was an additional helping of cute. Calling the Navel ‘the center of all things bizarre’ was more cute poured on top of far too much cute already, but it had been Gabrielle’s idea. You didn’t accuse your potential boss of laying on the cute too thick.

“This is the Navel, if that’s what you’re asking,” the boy said. His manner became even less friendly, if such a thing was possible. Speaking of too much cute, no one should be that adorable when they scowl at you. It inspires one with the desire to do wrong. “What do you want?”

“Are you this charming to all your customers?” I asked with a certain arch disapproval. The mischief in me decided to let him think I was an insulted customer, trying to be a good sport about his attitude. “Or am I just special?”

“That depends,” the boy said, his eyes narrowing. “Are you truly a customer?” Clearly, he didn’t believe I was one. “Or are you after Damian’s job?”

Ah, there’s a reason for this beautiful boy’s scowl and his name is Damian. “Actually, I’m here about a job opening,” I said, raising my hands in a gesture of supplication. “I didn’t realize I was taking someone else’s job away from him.”

“I suppose you’re not.” All the hostility and suspicion seemed to run out of the boy, as his shoulders slumped. I almost felt a little guilty. “Yes, you’ve come to the right place.” He sighed, looking down at his feet, as if he couldn’t bear to look at my face. “I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to that job opening myself.”

I studied the shadows under the boy’s eyes, the slight trembling of his lower lip. Before I could say anything else, the boy was moving, turning his head, so I could no longer study his face. He opened the door for me, causing a few chimes to tinkle, as he did.

“Go right in,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “Gabrielle is expecting you.”

[rhodrymavelyne]

Enjoy the first segment of Duessa’s ‘courtship’? Here’s a little more of ‘Be My Valentine...Snack’. 

“Ah, but are you truly a rose in full bloom?” Duessa asked, tilting the rose slightly. She might have been pointing it at Peter, or she might have been pointing it away. Such delicate, ambiguous mockery. “Even if you were, you belong to Gabrielle. She would never forgive me, if I stole one of her roses.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Gabrielle’s voice, along with the rustle of the curtain behind the counter. “Especially when those ‘roses’ are blooming within her Place of Power.”

“Ah, but can a rose truly bloom in someone else’s place of power?”  Duessa asked, lacing every word for a strange intimacy. “Especially when that someone is intent on hiding her power.”

This was only too true. I turned to look at Gabrielle advancing upon us. Her appearance was completely in contradiction with the thrumming powerful presence she exuded. ‘Brie wore a full, fawn colored skirt, a loose tan tunic, and a whole bunch of smiley faces painted on a string of shells around her neck. On top of her head perched a hat at a jaunty angle. Shells, smiley faces, and chicken feathers adorned every inch of its brim.

I swallowed an urge to laugh, or groan. Color wise, ‘Brie’s odd ensemble worked. Besides the hat and the necklace weren’t the worst things Gabrielle had ever worn.

I watched Peter flutter his eyelashes, while he struggle to react according to his nature around ‘Brie. On one hand, his employee was a beautiful woman. Peter regarded it as his duty to flirt with anyone beautiful. On the other hand, ‘Brie was too bizarrely herself to find into the broad category of ‘anyone beautiful’. This confused her poor gallant.

Gabrielle glanced at Peter, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face. Oh, she’d seen her gallant’s confusion, his inability to define her. Once more, she’d escaped definition and expectation.

“Well, we can’t always be our true selves.” Gabrielle gave her words a sharp emphasis. She shifted her glance from Peter to Duessa’s hidden arms. “However, I doubt you just came here to flirt with my boys.” ‘Brie leaned against the counter, letting her back rest against it. “What can I get for you, today, Duessa? Herbs? Candles? Information?”

“How about Christopher?” Duessa said, turning all eight of her eyes to me. Each of them had a predatory gleam. “I would love to buy him. What can I offer in trade in return for taking him home today?” She pressed the rose to her lips, before offering it to Gabrielle.

I tensed for a moment. I was fairly sure ‘Brie would never trade me in for a rose, but well, I was what I was. She’d expressed doubts at taking me in to begin with.

“Now, Duessa.” Gabrielle took a step forward and sniffed. The rose was odorless to me, but she could smell something. She smiled, shaking her head slightly. “I’ve told you many times, I don’t deal in slavery.” Her voice was still friendly, but her blue eyes narrowed a bit. I saw a hint of the danger underneath her eccentric exterior. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t give you my son.”

This was nice to know, even if I wasn’t truly Gabrielle’s son. My origins hadn’t been exactly human. I did try to be human, though, for Gabrielle’s sake. I liked having a family, a home, and people I cared for. The Navel might make me roll my eyes, half the time, but it was still home.

“Such a pity. I would adore making him my next Valentine.” Duessa murmued in a husky tone. “Alas, your sad sweetmeat fancies my nephew more than he does me.”

I could feel my face heating up. My feelings for Damian were one of the few things I could claim as my own in this existence. Duessa spoke of them as if they were a tragic sign of bad taste.

“This charming delectable, however, is eager to please me.” She turned her smoldering gaze on Peter. His own cheeks flushed in response. “And I am always delighted to be pleased.”

I waited for Gabrielle to say ‘no’. Peter might be a flirt, but that wasn’t a good enough reason to let Duessa have him.

Her answer shocked me.

“As I said, I don’t deal in slavery. This means I have to accept my peoples’ choices, even when I don’t agree with them.” Gabrielle glanced over at Peter. “Whether or not he wishes to go with you is up to Peter.”

“Gabrielle, no!” I cried. I no longer bothered to keep my voice down. “She’ll eat him alive!”

“I eagerly anticipate such a fate!” Peter said, regaining his compusure enough to leer at Duessa. “Please, lovely lady, devour me at your leisure!”

“Why, how can I turn down such a gracious offer?” Duessa said. She nodded graciously at Peter, while all eight of eyes gleamed in possessive triumph. “You heard my sweet Valentine, ‘Brie. He gave his consent.”

“Yes, I did.” The smile disappeared from Gabrielle’s face, as she stared at Peter. “She means it, you know. She truly will eat you alive, if you agree to it.”

“Oh, please, being devoured is nothing I can’t handle,” Peter said, puffing up with pride. He took the rose from Duessa’s hand and raised it to his lips.

“Well, since I have your consent, shall we go?” Duessa asked, offering her arm. One of her arms. Another arm snaked around Peter’s shoulder. He seemed completely unaware of its presence.

“Indeed, I was about to take my break,” Peter said, beaming at her, shivering slightly. Did he have the sense to be a little scared? Probably not. “A very long break. With your permission, ‘Brie.”

He didn’t wait for Gabrielle’s permission. He walked out, arm in arm with Duessa to the Navel’s door. Her extra arm reached down to pat his butt. Clearly, Peter didn’t feel it, as he hurried to open the door for Duessa. Both of her arms released him, so he could open the door.  

I stood there, slack jawed, watching the two of them exit, as the door chimes jingled behind them. “Peter, wait!” I cried, but he was already gone.

I had to go after him. I took a step towards the door, but Gabrielle held me back.

“Christopher, it’s his choice,” she said. Her eyes were sad, but her mouth had a firm, resolute set. “If he wants to go with Duessa, he can.”

“She truly will eat him alive,” I whispered. I stared at Gabrielle. “I’ve heard about what she does to her ‘valentines’ from Damian. She’ll keep him trapped, wrapped in a cocoon, as she drains the blood from him. In the end, she’ll kill him.”

“Perhaps she won’t,” Gabrielle said, staring after Peter. “She doesn’t do that to all of her lovers. Perhaps Peter will impress her enough that she’ll let him go. Or she’ll keep him.”

“Perhaps she won’t!” I snapped. “It will be our fault, if she kills him, for letting her near him!”

“No, it will be Peter’s fault, for agreeing to go with her.” Gabrielle’s eyes hardened, matching her mouth. “One of the prices of free will is accepting other people’s choices, even when they’re fatal.” Each word was as hard as her eyes. “It’s Peter’s choice. Not ours.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s getting into!” I growled. “We have to warn him, at least.”

“We tried. He wouldn’t listen.” Gabrielle stared at me. “I have no right to stop him from doing what he chooses to do. No right at all. Neither do you.”

There was a pause, in which I could feel the force of her power, behind the easy going, almost silly face she presented to the world.

“Maybe I don’t have the right,” I said, slowly. I could feel my own power gathering, as I stared at the skulls. Their toothy smiles seemed to encourage me. “If so, I think I’ll go do a little wrong.”

I didn’t stop to consider my play on words, or for Gabrielle’s reaction to it. I turned my back on her and ran to the door.

“Christopher, wait!” she cried, sounding frightened. Maybe she had to let Peter go, but the same rules didn’t seem to apply to me. It was too late. I was already pulling open the door, making its chimes ring. This signalled my exit from the Navel and Gabrielle’s Place of Power. I stepped out onto the street, feeling a rush of freedom. I was on a road that everyone used and walked upon. It belonged to everyone, including me.