Welcome to #QueerBlogWed, a day to celebrate all that’s varied and different under the rainbow.
My Tales of the Navel and the Shadow Forest is just that. We’re going to end the year by kicking off a new prelude, ‘Be My Valentine…Snack’.
Christopher returns to narrate this story, sometime after the events of ‘Unwilling to Be Yours’, which ended on Christmas Day.
I’ll be posting this in parts every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, like I did with ‘Waiting for Rebirth’ and ‘Unwilling to Be Yours’.
All three of these preludes take place before the first novel in my Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest series, Stealing Myself From Shadows. It’s currently under revision.
Perhaps if you enjoy these preludes, you’ll take an interest in my book when it’s released. Stay tuned!
I’ve got another Tale of the Shadow Forest with Christopher posted at inspirationcauldron.blogspot.com. If you liked this, check it out!
“Be my Valentine?” Something soft and silky brushed against my cheek, exuding the scent of a freshly picked rose.
“Isn’t that what you call all of your lovers, Lady Duessa?” I studied the lady, who’d reached out one of her eight arms to offer me a single flower.
“Certainly not.” The lady smiled, exposing one of her sharp canines. “The roses I usually offer are red as blood. I consider it a subtle warning about my ultimate intentions.”
I didn’t make a move to touch the flower. Any gesture of acceptance could be dangerous.
Duessa nodded her head in gracious acceptance of my reticence.
“She appreciates modesty in a boy.” Damian had offered this bit of advice, regarding his aunt. “Especially if you act in a shy and virginal manner. She’ll remains within the bounds of gentlewomanly behavior.” He’d stabbed a warning finger in my direction. “Don’t be too bold and by all the dark powers, don’t ever flirt with her. It shows a willingness to be eaten.”
“Surely you’re joking.” I’d tried to laugh, only to remember the additional arms and fangs his aunt possessed.
“You’ve seen her true form.” Damian had raised an eyebrow with no trace of his usual sly smile on his face. “Do you think I’m joking?”
No. He hadn’t been.
I swallowed, glancing up at Duessa from beneath lowered eyelids. I prayed she’d interpret the gesture as shyness, not flirting.