Saturday Snippet

Welcome to Rainbow Snippets! Here six sentences of GLBT fiction are posted and shared. It can be your own. It can be someone else’s. It just needs to be GLBT.

To read a wide variety of samples of GLBT fiction, go here! https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowSnippets/

My own offering comes from ‘Waiting for Rebirth’. It’s a prelude to all other ‘Tales From the Navel/The Shadow Forest’, including ‘The Hand and the Eye of the Tower’, ‘Stealing Myself From Shadows’, and ‘A Godling for Your Thoughts?’ On the last day of the year, it seemed a very good thing to share and post. 🙂 My plan is to clean this story up and eventually share all of it here. I’m hoping it will interest readers enough that they’ll want to buy the rest of ‘Tales From the Navel/The Shadow Forest’ when I finish revising them and self publish the series!

To read the very first part of this story, go to inspirationcauldron.blogspot.com.

I hesitated as I looked down at his offering. Should I accept his hand? What he was truly doing was asking for mine. I wasn’t sure if I still had one. Besides, he needed to give me something in return.

“Who are you?” I asked, feeling my lips shaping the words.

Paula’s Prompts

Here’s another response to an excellent prompt from ptwyant.com! This week’s involve a return, an encounter with a former friend, and a single snowflake.

Thank you for the inspiration! I’ve written a story for Queer Sci Fi’s April Renewal anthology, ‘Snowflake’ because of this excellent prompt. Since I’m submitting this story, I can’t share the entire thing. I can, however, offer up a teaser. 🙂

Ashildr was trapped within the snowflake, perfectly preserved within the ice.

“Here you will remain, my lovely,” the Snow Queen said in her melodic, unchanging voice. “Never to age. Never to sorrow.”

Never to see Ingold again. Ashildr could no longer despair at this. Fixed and frozen were her thoughts as well as her form.

The Flower

Welcome! Troubles with Torquere has made it impossible to do the post on ‘Fairest’ I originally planned to do, alas. Instead I offer you this tale of Death and rebirth, popular themes during the winter. It’s a re-telling of the myth of Perspehone and Hades. Many of the goddesses were female, before they were turned into Olympians. It seemed only fair to return the favor. 🙂 Not to mention I love taking a story about an Olympian ravaging a goddess and turning into a surreal myth of f/f. 🙂

This story was inspired by Lynn Stirling’s video, ‘Take Flight’. It was used as a writing prompt in a writing group I’m involved with. I got carried away. 🙂 I shared part of it with the group and posted Parts 2 and 3 at my Cauldron of Eternal Inspiration and my Facebook Author Page earlier this year. I’m now sharing the entire thing with you.
The Flower, by K.S. Trenten

A flower enters the window, bringing the sweet scent of the earth and skin with it. All the things that dwell on the surface.

Perhaps Zeu is in a pleasant mood. She can be lovely, bringing sunshine, or even healing rain, making everything cheerful, when she does.

However, her mood can change in an instant. Sweetness can turn to wrath, bringing the rain and thunder. The Trojans learned to fear her mood swings, when she hurled a stone from Mount Olympus down on their city, killing one of their princes. The Trojans like to pretend the prince lived. That he was carried up by a handsome sky god to be his cup bearer. No one wants to admit how fickle the sky can truly be. No cup bearer would last long around my sister.

Wait, there’s something strange about this flower. I take it to my desk, so I can examine it.

When I do, a light shines under the doorway in the fragile reality I’ve created around me. As Hade, an incarnation of death, things tend to break down in my presence. Usually they wither and crumble into ash. They don’t glow.

That’s what’s strange. The flower is still fresh and fragrant. It hasn’t withered in my hands, as all things do.

I leave the desk, going to door. I open it to face what awaits on the other side. Light, yes, the same light so many of my subjects see, before they come to me.

I grab my cloak and go out into that light. It fades, flickering, as I enter its domain. Retreating, as I advance. The endless series of staircases, which make up each mortal’s life await me. There’s no point in being distracted by all of these little journeys. I leap off the edge, passing through the various spans of human existence. They cannot touch me, yet I’m a part of every one of them. I acknowledge this, trying not to get distracted by the tiny, unique details of each staircase. They could absorb my attention for centuries, if I’m not careful.
I’m already being diverted. I musn’t let the stairs catch my eye. It’s the light I want to follow. I rise from the floor, forcing myself to focus, to stand. Once more, I head towards the light.

It’s coming from a candle. Just a single candle, burning a little brighter than the rest. A mortal moment, rendered glorious by a single deed which inspired countless other mortals. I glance at it, before I open another door. A light creeps under its frame. Perhaps it’s the light I seek.

I emerge into a city. The flower is before me. My breath is beginning to wither it, but not before it takes flight. I decide to chase it. Maybe it will lead me to the light I truly desire.

I run up the side of the building, as a sun sends slanting rays towards me. Helia is feeling sleepy, right now. She won’t be able to keep her fiery eyes open. It’s best not too look into them for long. Besides, her deadly, life-giving rays are not the ones I’m searching for.

I leap upward, letting the wind take me. This is putting myself into Zeu’s hands, a perilous gambit. I alternately fly and freefall, before landing on the side of a building, again.

The flower is flying, dancing on the wind. I leap upward, trying to catch it in my hand. I’m truly flying now, through the air. Zeu must have noticed me. My fingers close over the flower’s stem, as I pass out of the city into the air.

No, I will not be controlled by you, sister. I will my city of dark and ghostly stone to emerge, to materialize beneath my feet. I can see the River Styx, pale with the souls of the forgetful, merging with Zeu’s mist. My ferryboat is tethered to the sideways skyscraper, waiting for me. I step into it.

The river is disappearing into sky and cloud. My sister is trying to change the landscape into one she controls. I decide to play her game. I start rowing my ferry out into the Styx, which is transforming into clouds.

Helia’s eye burns bright for one moment, before it closes. Darkness follows. I catch a glimpse of something shining….there! On the edge of the horizon, flickering. Could it be the light I seek?

It’s getting dark. I can barely see, until forks of lightning illuminate my way.
Is Zeu trying to help me, or strike me down? You can never tell with her. Rain follows, weeping fat drops, which come near, without touching me. Did I make my sister cry, without realizing it?

The flower takes flight, rising into the air, as if it can’t wait to get away from me. I search for it, but all I can see is the rain, the clouds, and the lightning illuminating all of it.

Something dark looms overhead. Its force pulls me out of my ferryboat, although I cling to its sides. What has that kind of power? The darkness is usually obedient to my wishes.

I flip through the air, parted from my boat. My hands and feet connect with a ladder, dangling from the darkness.

Is this another whim of Zeu’s? Is she trying to help me? Or is all of this her doing? Lightning and thunder are her weapons. Perhaps the darkness is merely giant storm clouds, running around, doing her bidding, like a pack of well trained dogs.

I climb down the ladder to the cold earth. Light rushes up around me, the gleam of a cold, pitiless day. Helia has opened her eyes, again, but she’s not in a good mood. The earth is green, though. New life is emerging from it. Wet and damp, I regard my surroundings, as I start walking.

My darkness is coming to meet me, accompanied by the light of a thousand, special mortal moments. This is the only illumination everyone can see. I reach for one instant, delighted by its brightness.

Can it be? Was this the light I was seeking all along? Not the universal brightness, but just one unique flame?

A flower is growing out of the earth. I can feel Tartarus, creeping up around me, all hissing, heated stone. It doesn’t make this single blossom any less precious, or beautiful.

I kneel beside it, cupping it with my hand.

“Persephone,” I whisper, giving it, no, her, a name.

The endless candles are flickering in my darkness. A door stands before me. It’s a familiar door. I stare at it, feeling weary, tired, as my existence calls me back to myself.

I walk forward. Every step is heavy, which takes me away from my flower. Eventually, I reach the door. I open it.

My room exists, the room I created for myself from mortal imagination and loneliness. A thousand lights are dancing, swirling in the air around me. A thousand mad dreams, a thousand mad hopes.

I watch them for a moment. I let myself be entranced by them. All of them are streaking towards a door, another door. The final door, which awaits everyone. Perhaps even me.

I turn away from it. In the end, the God of Death is no different than anyone else. Afraid of that final door. Willing to emerge myself in a thousand trivial distractions rather than face the final mystery head on.

A thousand open books lay around my apartment. Pictures of the sky and the stairs have already been captured within them. Snap shot moments of experience, trapped in paper. You’d think I’d know better than to try to capture them. I, of all creatures, should know how transient they are. However, like many others, I want those moments to last. I’ll cheat, do anything I can to try to keep them.

A bunch of flowers await me in a vase. Including her. Persephone. She stands in the center, putting to shame all the other delicate blossoms with her beauty.

I walk towards her, wanting to admire her, to keep her for myself. However, she can only last in this realm for so long.

In the meantime, that realm requires its queen.

Did you enjoy this story? Stop by my Cauldron of Eternal Inspirations if you’d like to read more. I often post free snippets and samples, although I’m hoping to eventually make money doing this! 🙂

K.S. Trenten, a.k.a. rhodrymavelyne
The Cauldrons of Eternal Inspiration at inspirationcauldron.wordpress.com, inspirationcauldron.blogspot.com, and cauldronkeeper.livejournal.com
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/KS-Trenten-1508958289406654/?ref=page_internal
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/KSTrenten
@Goodreads as K.S. Trenten
@Twitter as https://twitter.com/rhodrymavelyne
@tumblr as http://rhodrymavelyne.tumblr.com/

Me Me Me Monday

Happy Boxing Day, everyone! It’s also ‘Me Me Me Monday’! A day to strut one’s stuff and celebrate one’s me-ness!

For the holiday season, I thought I’d share a little of my Christmas story, ‘Seven Tricks’. It failed to find a home this winter, alas. My response will be to add another scene and try again next Christmas. 🙂

Some say a mouse king has seven heads with seven crowns. In a way, this is true. A mouse prince must play seven tricks before the twelve days of Christmas are over. If he doesn’t, he cannot claim his throne.

“You must prove your worth, before I acknowledge you as my heir,” Madam Mousenip said to me in the shadow of the enormous, ticking tower, which shielded our main hole. “Only by succeeding at seven tricks will you possess what you desire.” She herself had become our sovereign through seven capers of her own, earning the name Mousenip for delivering tiny bites, which left cheese looking unscathed and humans hideously deformed. She’d nipped a human princess once. The bite turned the girl’s face into something so ugly humans fainted at the sight of her. Considering how repulsive humans already were, that was quite an accomplishment.

I flicked my whiskers in humble acknowledgement of the Mouse Queen’s words. In truth, winning the throne was what she desired, not I. What I wished for was a bit more romantic and complicated.

I’d had a dream involving our coming Christmas, but wasn’t of me ascending the throne, oh, no. I’d dreamed of an endless supply of tissue, scattered about the giant shrubbery humans insisted on covering with baubles. Not that the tissue was what I desired, although there was enough for all my subjects, saving the king sized portion for myself.

No, what I desired was the exquisite creature standing half in, and half out of one of the giant boxes humans left open on the floor. Wooden was he, with stiff arms and legs, which moved very slowly. He was dressed a bright red coat, which was as much part of him as his hands and legs. A crown stuck out of his tufts of wispy, white hair. He bared his teeth at me in a seductive show of defiance. Never had I seen such an enormous, toothy jaw as he possessed. The scent of roasted nuts wafted from his mouth, making my nostrils flare with hunger.

 

Saturday Snippet

Welcome to Rainbow Snippets! Six sentences of GLBT fiction are posted and shared here. It can be your own. It can be someone else’s. It just needs to be GLBT. To read a wide variety of intriguing GLBT fiction, go to https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowSnippets/

I didn’t think I’d make it today, since Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are a very busy time for me. I’m going to try, though.

Since it’s Christmas Eve, here’s a taste of my m/m Nutcracker inspired story, ‘Seven Tricks’.

Some say a mouse king has seven heads with seven crowns. In a way, this is true. A mouse prince must play seven tricks before the twelve days of Christmas are over. If he doesn’t, he cannot claim his throne.

“You must prove your worth, before I acknowledge you as my heir,” Madam Mousenip said to me in the shadow of the enormous, ticking tower, which shielded our main hole. “Only by succeeding at seven tricks will you possess what you desire.” She herself had become our sovereign through seven capers of her own, earning the name Mousenip for delivering tiny bites, which left cheese looking unscathed and humans hideously deformed.

Me Me Me Monday

It’s Me Me Me Monday! A day to promote, post, and celebrate your me-nesss!

For today, I’m offering up another segment from ‘The Hand and the Eye of the Tower’, picking up right where I left off last Monday. This is the first book in my ‘Tales from the Navel/The Shadow Forest’ series. It’s currently under revision.

 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Danyell said, but the words tasted like lies. Dayell’s irises were filled with silver light. Tiny, gleaming triangles changed their violet blue color into something eerie and strange. Danyell shivered. It was as if his twin’s eyes had become Doors, magical portals to other worlds. To peek through such a Door was wonderful, but scary.

Dayell lowered his eyelashes. His lower lip quivered. Danyell wished he hadn’t thought so loud. Sometimes, his twin could hear his thoughts, or at least guess what he was thinking.

“Take care,” Dayell said. He stood up, straight and stiff. “There’s someone else here, watching us.”

Saturday Snippets

Welcome to Rainbow Snippets! Here six sentences of GLBT fiction are posted and shared. It can be your own. It can be someone else’s. It just needs to be GLBT.

To check out a wide variety of samples of GLBT fiction, go here! https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowSnippets/

Here’s my own, right where I left off last Saturday! A little more of ‘The Hand and the Eye of the Tower’…

He rolled over and looked up, only to squint into the sunshine.

A shadow leaned over him, blocking out the sun. Danyell gasped, as a face exactly like his own loomed overhead.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” Dayell said. His twin was looking down at him. “At least, not of me.”