Saturday Snippet

Welcome to #RainbowSnippets! Every Saturday, six sentences of GLBT fiction are posted and shared. It can be from your own. It can be from someone else’s. It just needs to GLBT. To read a wide variety of samples of GLBT stories, check them out here

My own snippet comes from my NaNoWriMo project, ‘A Godling for Your Thoughts?’ It’s got m/m and f/f, but this particular teaser is m/m. It’s from the very beginning of the book. I went a little over six sentences, but it didn’t make sense if I didn’t. (bows apologetically). My snippet is still fairly short.

“A godling for your thoughts?” The question was a low tease, as the man pulled the tiny icon out from behind the boy’s ear. It was a trick, an illusion. Nothing, but a coin laid in the man’s hand. The boy still giggled at the sight of it.

The man smiled, seeming to bask in the boy’s laughter. His multicolored eyes, however, were troubled. “Seriously, Leiwell, what’s the matter?”

Damian’s Departure

I got a challenge from NaNoWriMo yesterday. Write a letter from one of your characters to another character, explaining why s/he is leaving.

This was perfect for last year’s project, ‘Stealing Myself From Shadows’. I wrote a letter from Damian to Christopher, explaining some of the reasons for his disappearance. It was never posted, because I was worried it contained too many spoilers.

NaNoWriMo issued the same challenge this year. This time, I wrote a letter from Ashleigh to Map. You can find this year’s letter at

I went back and looked over Damian’s letter. It’s not as spoilerific as I thought, especially considering some of the snippets I’ve already posted here.

There’s no guarantee Damian Ashelocke is telling the truth, any way. Or at least, not all of it. 🙂

Without further ado, here’s Damian’s letter to Christopher. A freebie extra to ‘Stealing Myself From Shadows’.


“You know why I left. You know me better than anyone. I pulled you out of the shadows, a creature of wonder and magic. I saw my world reflected in your eyes. It was wondrous.

If anyone could show me how to love this world, it was you. Without admitting it to myself, I took you home. Yes, the Navel was our home, even if I hated it. It was certainly more of home than anything Ashelocke. I introduced you to my mentor, got her to accept you as her son. Surely, you could change her. Surely, you could change anyone.

Alas, you didn’t change Gabrielle Bouchard. Perhaps you couldn’t. Perhaps her will to keep everything small and manageable in the Navel was too much for you. Perhaps her smile charmed you into truly believing she was your mother. Either way, I lost you to her. You became one more curio, one more odd little object in her shop. Just like everything else from the Shadow Forest in the Navel; you were contained, reduced to something mundane and explainable, until touched by the right hands.

I didn’t know how how I hated what ‘Brie was doing, until she did it to you. This was why I had to leave, Christopher. I had to find you, to free you from the containment of this small life, which I began. Gabrielle may have trapped you within it, but I’m the one who lured you into this existence in the first place. I need to find the shadows, which were once a part of you. Only then can I undo the great wrong I did you, when I offered you my hand.


Paula’s Prompt

Here’s my response to the amazing @PTWyant’s Wednesday Prompt! To see her prompt (which is quite an amazing picture!) go to

I’ve come up with another response at as well.

The man laughed and led the woman by the hand. Gray shadows fell over both of them, as they turned towards the light, falling through the skeletal branches.

There was so little light in the Shadow Forest. The man and the woman hungered for what small beams of warmth they could find.

“Do you think it’s him?” the woman asked. She dared to hope that maybe their darling had returned to them.

“No,” the man said shortly. He shook his head. Forced himself to smile. He didn’t want to dwell on what they’d lost. It was too painful. Better to delight in what feasts awaited them and here was a radiant beam of dreams and hope. “However, it’s strong and steady.”

“It’s not him,” the woman said. She shivered. “He abandoned us. We’re on our own.”

“We’ll manage,” the man said encouragingly. “Come!”

He leaped into the glow, bathed in it, absorbed it. The woman followed him, lifting her hands up. Drinking the dreams, the sorrows, whatever this light had to give.

Somewhere, someone shuddered in her sleep. Woke up a little paler, a little number, with a little less joy in the world. A little less inspiration to bring to her drawings. The man and the woman would never care. She’d hadn’t been a person. She’d been water in the desert, while the two shadows had been dying of thirst.

They were a little stronger and a little more solid now, after feeding.

The woman wasn’t quite ready to move on, though.
“How could he leave us?” she wailed. It wasn’t a human cry. It was a lost soul’s shriek. “We were part of each other! How could he leave us?” She grabbed her companion and shook him. “How will we carry on without him?”

“The way shadows always have,” he said. He patted the woman’s hand, gently extricating himself from her grip. “We’ll find someone else, like we just did. Someone willing to let us into their mind and heart.” He smiled at her, exposing teeth, which were long and needle-like. “Someone who’ll feed us.”

She smiled back, revealing her own jagged fangs. They held hands, enjoyed the warmth which coursed through them, which only people living in the real world could bring.

He led her through the trees and underbrushes, where shadows were doomed to wait. On the edge of the shining paths, which mortals claimed for their own.

“It’s all right,” he reassured her. “If we can devour enough light, we may find a path for ourselves.”

She nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. She’d seen some of those shining, beautiful creatures, filled with stolen light. Oh, they looked human. They often believed themselves to be human. They never quite belonged, though. Clinging to their realities, often made up of patched dreams, they failed to become a part of these make shift worlds. Sooner or later, they always returned to the Shadow Forest.

Their fate was still better than remaining here. Drifting aimlessly, clutching for any stray beams of light, any passing dreams.

She crouched beside her companion in the darkness and waited. If someone walked by on one of the paths, she crooned and clutched at the unwary walker, along with all the other shades. She tried not to year for a familiar brightness, a multicolored gleam.

Those who walked the paths through the Shadow Forest had light and life. Enough to feed on. Enough to keep herself and her companion solid.

Even if none of the walkers were him.

Tears filled her eyes, as she recalled his warmth. Stolen warmth, but he’d shared it with his fellow shadows, until he’d been snatched away. Drawn into a world of solid things.

She could still see the sorcerer, gleaming with a seductive light of his own, bright enough to feed a dozen shades. She could see how their third had been beguiled by that light, drawn to it.

She moved her lips to shape his name, for right now, she had human lips and a human shape. Just as her companion beside her did. Who knew how long they’d keep these things, before they began to fade.

“Christopher,” she murmured. It wasn’t the name she, or her companion had given their beloved. It was the name the sorcerer of light had bound him with, when he drew his essence out of the darkness.

Her companion heard the name, but refused to acknowledge it. There was only one name for their beloved, which would not be denied for a long. For it was whom he truly was.

“Happily Ever After,” he whispered. “You’ll come back to us, eventually. You can’t deny whom you truly are, no matter what shape some warlock tries to force you into.” He clenched his fists against his sides. “You’re driven to try and give everyone a happy ending, no matter whom they might be. And that includes shadows.”

He smiled out at the darkness, despite the fact that his cheeks were wet. He’d enjoy his own misery. Like everything else in this place, it never lasted long.