LAST CHANCE TO PREORDER THE LESHY AND THE LUMBERJACK BY GINGER STREUSEL
The Leshy and the Lumberjack by Ginger Streusel will only be the special preorder price of $4.24 until 7:00 p.m. Eastern Time tonight July 11, 2018!
In Isaakās sleepy town, monsters live next door. Most of the townsfolk prefer to avoid the dark, eerie woods, but Isaak enjoys spending his days there. Armed with his grandmotherās stories, he chops wood and plants trees, and keeps the peace between men and monsters.
Then he meets the Leshy, the god who guards the forest and all who dwell in it. He is also known for abducting travelersāor tickling them to death. But the god he meets is nothing like the stories he was told, and the more time they spend together the more Isaak hates to leave him.
But the Leshy isnāt the only thing lurking in the woodsā¦
Pairing: Fantasy - Gay
Word Count: 44,000
Price: $4.99 $4.24
Content: The Leshy and the LumberjackĀ contains no explicit content, a brief instance of dubiously consensual touching, and some violence.
DONāT FORGET TO PREORDER THE LESHY AND THE LUMBERJACK BY GINGER STREUSEL
Grab The Leshy and the Lumberjack by Ginger Streusel for 15% off while you can! This title will be the special preorder price of $4.24 until 7:00 p.m. Eastern Time on July 11, 2018.
In Isaakās sleepy town, monsters live next door. Most of the townsfolk prefer to avoid the dark, eerie woods, but Isaak enjoys spending his days there. Armed with his grandmotherās stories, he chops wood and plants trees, and keeps the peace between men and monsters.
Then he meets the Leshy, the god who guards the forest and all who dwell in it. He is also known for abducting travelersāor tickling them to death. But the god he meets is nothing like the stories he was told, and the more time they spend together the more Isaak hates to leave him.
But the Leshy isnāt the only thing lurking in the woodsā¦
Pairing: Fantasy - Gay
Word Count: 44,000Ā
Content: The Leshy and the LumberjackĀ contains no explicit content, a brief instance of dubiously consensual touching, and some violence.
Less Than Three Press, LLC | LGBT+ Queer Romance Books The Leshy and the Lumberjack [PREORDER] [9781684313150] - In Isaak's sleepy town, monsters live next door. Most of the townsfolk prefer to avoid the dark, eerie woods, but Isaak enjoys spending his days there. Armed with his grandmother's stories, he chops wood and plants trees, and keeps the peace between men and monsters. Then he meets the Leshy, the
The Tickle Monster Cometh
I have a book coming out! Itās a story of guy meets cute monster man. Preorder now or start reading July 11th!Ā
QSF has a new book out, the latest in our series of flash fiction anthologies: Re.new.al (noun) 1) Resuming an activity after an interruption, or 2) Extending a contract, subscription or license, or 3) Replacing or repairing something that is worn out, run-down, or broken, or 4) Rebirth after death. Four definitions to spark inspiration, a limitless number of stories to be conceived. Only 110 made the cut. Thrilling to hopeful, Renewal features 300-word speculative fiction ficlets about sexual and gender minorities to entice readers. Welcome to Renewal.
I got an honorable mention! If youāre into queer sci-fi things, you should check it out!
For the crazy weather weāre having, I bring youā¦ romantic prompts for bad weather!
I had to evacuate and I canāt afford a hotel, so I came to this campground but Iām terrible at camping HELP!
My downstairs apartment flooded, but your upstairs apartment is fine. Can I stay with you? (And I brought my cat too I hope thatās okay)
Youāre a storm chaser and you helped me thank you but hey wait why are you driving TOWARD the tornado?!
Youāre my best friend and weāre waiting out the storm together, and I need to tell you I love you just in case we donāt make it.
Weāre roommates and I know we donāt know each other that well, but I am terrified of storms so can I please snuggle with you?
The powerās out, so letās have a camping adventure! We can roast marshmallows on the stove and tell spooky stories around the Yankee candle campfire (and yes, Iāll protect you since youāre afraid of the dark)
Weāre survivors working to get through this together, and Iām getting out with you or not at all. Iāve got your back.
I love making new characters. I roleplay all the time, creating lots of little cinnamon rolls to cherish <3. But if youāre like me, maybe youāre bad at fleshing out your supporting cast. Maybe you just created a new character, and you havenāt gotten to know them yet. Never fear! D&D makes it easy to figure out who your character is! All it takes is a little chance and puzzle-solving :)
I have a fun post about using D&D to flesh out character backgrounds (so excited) coming up next week. But this weekend I am going camping, so here are some camping-related prompts in the meantimeā¦
Ā A group of people go out into the woods to relax and party. The only problem? A bunch of cryptids had the same idea. Sasquatch just wants to drink some PBR and go fishing with their buddies, and then Character A comes in to ruin it. Gosh, Character A. Rude.
Ā Or hey, maybe a shy monster just wants to make some new friendsā¦
Ā Or Character A puts their food up in a tree to keep it away from bears. They wake up in the middle of the night to hear somebody munching on their Doritos. Is it a werewolf? A werebear? A taller than average normal bear?
Ā When the campsite/ cabin company double-books group/ character Aās camping spot, theyāre forced to endure close quarters with group/ character B. How do they get along? Chummily or not at all?
Ā At the local LGBT-friendly campsite, pride weekend is the same time as the local fairiesā reunion-slash-wild-magic party. Character A has never seen so many pairs of fairy wings or been covered in so much glitter. Was that cute guy joking when he said he wasĀ ātotally a fairyā?
Ā Lots of spookies hang out in the forest, not just Bigfoot. Learn about some lesser-known cryptids and folktale monstersālike the leshy, the Slavic forest guardian who tickles you to death unless you turn your clothes inside outāand write about Character Aās encounter with them. If youāre looking for inspirationĀ (or to be freaked out or amused) listen to the Cryptid Keeper Podcast for more monsters (and Owen Wilson sightings)Ā
Ā Or hey, maybe Character A gets embroiled in a turf war between rival cryptid factions?
Ā Or maybe Character Aās cabin in the woods isnāt all they hoped it would be. Is there a murderer on the prowl? A group of hostile aliens that just invaded? Whatever it is, Character A is not getting the quiet weekend they hoped for.
Ā There are a ton of spooky things that can happen in the woods, so I hope these keep you guys warm, inspired, and safe through the end of camping season.
Hereās my story~ I went the smooching route, of course :3
Cress spoke in a soft, hushed voice, breath puffing hot against Flareās neck. "When the moon devours the sun, the world goes so dark that even the gods can't see what you do."
Cress squeezed Flare's hand, pulling him through the stalks of corn and into the reeds. Flare struggled to keep up, dodging the sharp blades of the tall grasses. Ā āYou donāt have to drag me. I should go in frontāas your guard, you know.ā
āDo you want the end of the world on your hands if you lead me astray?ā Cress sounded serious, but they were grinning.
āI wouldnāt.ā Flare huffed and drew himself up to his full height, broad-shouldered and chest puffed out. The effect was ruined when one of the offending plants slapped him on the arm, making Flare yelp. "Oww! Slow down, Cress."
Cress laughed, the sound as sweet as birdsong. It looked like Flare had to follow them. "We have to hurry,ā Cress said. āI'll tend to your wounds after weāre finished. Just like old times.ā
āOld times, huh?ā Flare rubbed the welt on his arm and hurried after Cress. He guessed that Cress had been fixing his wounds and pulling him along for a whileāand now Cress was performing the villageās most important ritual and bringing him along as a āguard.ā As if Cress needed Flare to protect him from bugs and birds and plants.
They exited the reeds five minutes later, mostly unscathed, and emerged on the edge of a cliff overlooking the river below. It wasn't very high compared to the mountain peaks to the west, but high enough to make Flare take a wary step back from the precipice. āBe careful.ā He eyed Cress, long and willowy in their cool white robe, and wished they wouldnāt get so close to the edge. The village called Cress neither he nor she, but they, as befit a child born of the gods. Cress was as the gods had made them, spiritually powerful and the perfect blend of male and female. They had the power of many. But Cress was no warrior, and Flare worried.
Mindless of the danger, Cress studied the angle of the sun with eyes and fingers. They nodded. "This will do."
Flare spread the blanket he had brought, and they both sat cross-legged upon it. It was woven red and gold, with a geometric pattern that mirrored the sun. Flare leaned back, bracing himself with his arms. It was hot, and the breeze offered a small relief. Flare hoped that the eclipse might cool them off. "Too bad we canāt hang out by the river." He looked down at the shining stream with envy.
"We have work to do.ā Cress rolled up their sleeves, baring dusk-colored arms painted with sigils of protection. āFew good things happen at the river after the sun goes out. It's either youngsters fooling around or the violent covering up their crimes."
Flare snorted. "You say that like an old man. Weren't you young once?"
"You know I was." Cress smirked. Flare knew what kind of trouble they used to get up to. Things were so much easier when they were kids, but being with Cress like thisāquiet and away from everyone elseāhe felt like those memories werenāt so remote.
"Did you ever go down to the river without me?"
Cress showed Flare how they appreciated the teasing. "Only to dump the bodies," they announced with a grin.
"Heh." Flare folded his hands in his lap and turned his eyes to the sky. He was lucky, he thought, to see this side of Cressāthe side that was more best friend than serious shaman.
The clear blue of the morning had cracked, shot through with veins of midnight. On most days, the sun sank after the men came back from the fields and the women finished weaving and cooking. But today the sunset came early, as Cress had predicted. As Flare watched the sky bleed to black, he was impressed by Cress's spiritual prowess. The elders were right; one day, Cress would be a powerful shaman for their village. "Right on time, as predicted. Good for you."
"It's math, not magic. No need to be impressed."
Flare put a finger to his lips. "I'll keep your secret."
āAll right, time for the sacrifice.ā Cress held out his hand. āMy dagger?ā Flare passed the roughly carved obsidian blade over.
Flare wanted to say ābe carefulā again, but he held his tongue and watched. Cress chanted, his voice soft and low, rising to a crescendo. Then he pricked his finger and pressed the bleeding tip to the ground below. He drew a bloody spiral in the dirt.
Then the sky went dark.
Flare focused on the sun, shaken to his core when it went black. It was haloed by a ring of light, the only brightness around them. A thrill went up Flare's spine as Cress squeezed his hand. It felt different from before.
Cress spoke in a soft, hushed voice, his breath puffing hot against Flareās neck. "When the moon devours the sun, the world goes so dark that even the gods can't see what you do."
Flare swallowed. He felt Cress's warmth and leaned into it despite himself. āWhat does that mean?ā Though he felt it coming, he still gasped when Cress kissed him. "Cress," he tried to protest, āyouāre not supposed toā¦ to kiss anyone.ā Cress cut him off with another kiss, heady enough to dizzy him.
Cress shushed him. "I told you. The gods can't see."
His two warm hands touched Flareās face, and Flareās racing heart calmed somewhat. He looked at Cress, his skin the color of a desert at midnight and his eyes wide and moon-bright. Flare had always known Cress was beautiful, but it took being alone in the dark to truly find beauty in the soft curve of their mouth. Flareās lips tingled from the tiny brush of Cress's mouth against his. He had barely gotten a taste.
When Cress tilted their head and went in for another kiss, Flare met them with a groan. If the gods couldn't see, then they couldn't strike Flare down for putting his handsāand his mouthāon their chosen shaman. Cress tasted sweet, like sweet beans crushed with fruit and sugarcane. This must be what the food of the gods tastes like, he thought as he wrapped his arms around Cress. Cress ran their hands over Flareās chest and dug in with sharp nails.
Cress finally pulled back, lips pinked and breath short. He rested his forehead against Flareās and sighed.
Flare glanced upward; rather than a ring of white around the dark sun, a growing crescent threatened to illuminate them.
āIt looks like a crescent moon. Itās beautiful.ā Flare grinned, knowing that Cress would understand what he meant.
āDonāt flatter me.ā Cress stole one last kiss, pulling back with a possessive nibble of Flareās lip, and stood. Then he helped Flare to his feet. āTime to go back.ā
Flare followed behind Cress, more unhappily than he had the first time. His lips burned, and he watched Cress as they parted the reeds and the fields of corn. They were quiet, Flare still shocked and meditating on the sensations that lingered on his lips. What could he say? What was safe to say, now that the gods could hear and see again?
Cress only paused when they reached the edge of the maize fields, hesitating to return to the normal world and their normal duties as a shaman.
Flare found his voice. āWill we ever do this again?ā He knew Cress couldnāt be with himācouldnāt kiss himābut the thought of never kissing Cress again twisted Flareās stomach.
Cress turned on their heel, looking Flare over. Flareās heart thudded as Cress eyed him up and down, as if testing his worthiness. Relief flooded through him when Cress smiled. āThereās another eclipse next year. Itās supposed to be a really long one.ā
Flareās cheeks flushed. The sun burned high above him, born anew in the cerulean sky. āThat sounds great.ā
So if youāve ever picked out paint, you know that every infinitesimally different shade of blue, beige, and gray has its own descriptive, attractive name. Tuscan sunrise, blushing pear, Tradewind, etcā¦ There are in fact people who invent these names for a living. But given that the human eye can see millions of distinct colors, sooner or later weāre going to run out of good names. Can AI help?
For this experiment, I gave the neural network a list of about 7,700 Sherwin-Williams paint colors along with their RGB values. (RGB = red, green, and blue color values) Could the neural network learn to invent new paint colors and give them attractive names?
One way I have of checking on the neural networkās progress during training is to ask it to produce some output using the lowest-creativity setting. Then the neural network plays it safe, and we can get an idea of what it has learned for sure.
By the first checkpoint, the neural network has learned to produce valid RGB values - these are colors, all right, and you could technically paint your walls with them. Itās a little farther behind the curve on the names, although it does seem to be attempting a combination of the colors brown, blue, and gray.
By the second checkpoint, the neural network can properly spell green and gray. It doesnāt seem to actually know what color they are, however.
Letās check in with what the more-creative setting is producing.
ā¦oh, okay.
Later in the training process, the neural network is about as well-trained as itās going to be (perhaps with different parameters, it could have done a bit better - a lot of neural network training involves choosing the right training parameters). By this point, itās able to figure out some of the basic colors, like white, red, and grey:
Although not reliably.
In fact, looking at the neural networkās output as a whole, it is evident that:
The neural network really likes brown, beige, and grey.
The neural network has really really bad ideas for paint names.
Imagine Person A of your OTP starting a garden and B really wants to help but they kind just accidentally mangle the plantsā¦. so they hang out and keep A company.
