Thursday, February 20, 2020

CRIMSON LIES: prompt-inspired short story.

Soooooooo, I did it again! Another prompt-inspired short story. And it has become a book called HALFBLOOD DECEIVED



CRIMSON LIES


Just a bit more. Hold on just a bit more; Aella urged herself.

A violent shiver shook her. She wrapped her arm tighter around her middle, her palm flat against the bleeding wound. The driver gave her a horrified look through the rearview mirror. She couldn’t blame him. She’d caught glimpses of her face, half-disfigured with swelling, and it was a scary sight. A couple of stubborn tears rolled down her cheeks, and she hated it.

You don’t have the right to cry; she scolded herself. You are a monster, just like them.

She was supposed to be a proud member of the Order of the Light, anointed by God himself, as all gargoyles were.

But now, after what she’d witnessed—after having her world torn to pieces in front of her eyes, Aella didn’t know who she was anymore.

The terrified gaze of the vampire child would forever be burned in her mind. She could still hear the child’s screams in her head. The small girl with long black hair and azure eyes had needed Aella’s help, and she’d failed her.

Her pain was nothing compared to that. The bleeding wound in her stomach and the ache of her electrocuted limbs could not match the gaping hole inside her chest. It burned like acid with betrayal and guilt.

“We’re here,” the driver announced, giving her a panicked look. “But there’s nothing here.”

There has to be, Aella thought desperately.

She forced herself to focus on moving her heavy, sore body. Her fingers trembled as she reached into her back pocket and took out all the money she’d managed to stash away over the last two years—a bit over three hundred dollars. “Thank you for helping me. Keep the change.”

Right hand firmly pressed against her poisoned wound, Aella mustered all her strength to open the taxi’s door, stand and close it behind her. She hoped the black coat covered the blood well enough not to scare the poor man.

“Wait, miss, there’s blood in these bills!” the taxi driver exclaimed. “I can’t just leave you here.”

Aella examined her surroundings. There truly seemed to be nothing but thick white mist and tall trees as far as she could see. Maybe the vampire had lied to protect Zeydan. But something instinctive told Aella that she was in the right place. And yet, if she was wrong, she was as good as dead. And so were Zeydan and his family.

“I’m going to have a look,” Aella said to the driver. “If I find nothing, I’ll come back. Could you please wait for me?”

Aella ignored his protests, blindly walking deeper into the mist.

A rumble of thunder echoed in the night, bathing her in a white flash. Still, Aella saw nothing more than the imposing silhouettes of the trees and thick white fog everywhere. The icy wind whipped her damp, copper hair. The freezing rain pelted her with fat drops that made her chills worse.

She limped further into the fog, driven by a basic instinct she’d never used before. A tingle in her skin and a pull in her gut that seemed to say, ‘You’re close, right there.ΚΌ

Maybe it was insane, but Aella didn’t care.

She felt as if she were boiling from the inside out despite the rain and dropped the coat to the ground.

A hand pressed to the wound in a futile attempt to staunch the blood flow, she kept going, feeling weaker with each step… And all but walked headlong into solid stone.

Heart racing, Aella placed her palms against the hard surface and sucked in a breath. The mist cleared enough to reveal massive Greek-style columns entwined with climbing plants holding an equally large gate.

There was an intercom attached to the column she had bumped into.

Fingers shaking, Aella pressed the button and opened her mouth to speak, but only a sigh of pain came out. A violent shiver—part fever, part apprehension—shook her whole body. She remembered with painful clarity all the horrible things she’d spat at Zeydan a few nights before. She could smell his flesh burning as she stabbed him with her silver dagger and hear the half-cry that had escaped him.

He was a vampire. Her sworn enemy. A powerful member of the species that had killed her parents.

But he hadn’t hurt her even after she attacked him.

He had inadvertently shown her the first piece of the horrible truth gargoyles had kept hidden from her all her life.

Vampires were living creatures.

Not all of them were evil.

Some had families.

Some were little girls who liked to play Scrabble.

And gargoyles had no qualms about killing them.

Aella sighed, leaning her head on the cold pillar, wondering when had gargoyles lost their way. When had they become just as ruthless, if not worse, than vampires, the demons?

Alleged demons, she corrected herself bitterly.

Truth is, she’d never seen anything more demonic than the sheer satisfaction on Micah’s face as he was about to kill a defenseless vampire child with his gleaming silver sword. Whatever had remained of her devotion to her husband had turned into rancid loathing after that, and there would be no turning back. And considering Micah had no qualms about almost impaling her with his sword for trying to stop him, Aella was certain that the feeling was very mutual.

But what if she was wrong and Zeydan was evil? What if he finished what Micah started?

What other option do I have?

She couldn’t let Micah, and the others destroy Zeydan and his family.

She wouldn’t.

Her sight blurred, and she held onto the pillar, pressing the intercom button again.

“Zeydan,” Aella murmured, her voice distorted by the swelling in her jaw and cheek. “Zeydan. It’s Aella. I need to talk to you.” She swallowed, tasting blood, trying to clear her dry throat and speak as clearly as possible. “Zeydan. Please.”

A gust of chilly wind hit her, accompanied by a familiar warm, tingly sensation running down her spine. And then Zeydan was standing right beside her. Towering half a foot above her despite her 5-foot-10 height, and dressed all in black—just like she remembered. His ink-dark hair fell to his neck in silk-soft waves, and his bewildered green eyes managed to look bright even in the gloom.

“Aella, how did you find me?” he asked, gently accented voice transmitting surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I had nowhere else to go,” Aella admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

She felt her body tilt sideways and saw the dark ground approach, but firm hands were holding her shoulders before she could crash.

“Aella, what happened?” Zeydan asked, brow furrowed.

A whimper escaped her. Where to start?

Zeydan sniffed and then cursed, his eyes falling to her wounded stomach. She knew he could see perfectly in the dark and wondered how bad she was.

“Who did this to you?” he asked.

Aella looked at him, taking in his unearthly perfect features contorted with concern for her—one of his greatest enemies—and felt what little remained of her beliefs about vampires crack and collapse in on themselves. A strangled sound left her throat; frustration, anger, and pain stealing her breath.

Zeydan lifted her off the ground, cradling her gently in his arms.

“Tell me what happened, Aella,” he demanded.

The remnants of her strength were leaking away. His face became blurry.

Aella swallowed hard and forced her heavy tongue to work. “They’re coming,” she croaked. “They’re coming for you, Zeydan.”

The flash of horrified realization that crossed his beautiful face was the last thing she saw before darkness claimed her.

©HALFBLOOD DECEIVED, Selene Kallan.

****

This short story became a paranormal romance novel called HALFBLOOD DECEIVED, an ANTI-alphahole, pro-feminist, pro-LGBTQIA+, woke AF roller-coaster of feels with explicit spicy scenes and a lot of profanity. Read the Author's Note for a full list of CWs before downloading.

AMAZON US Free with Kindle Unlimited: https://amzn.to/45fRmCi 

OTHER COUNTRIES: https://books2read.com/halfblood-deceived-sk 


AUTHOR’S NOTE.


Halfblood Deceived is full of dark themes. These are not condoned. And the hero NEVER hurts the heroine.

The list of warnings includes: gaslighting, domestic violence, intimate partner abuse, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, body shaming, implied death of a child, explicit violence against women, attempted sexual assault, mentions of past sexual assault, torture, psychological trauma, blatant blasphemy, and profanity.

Despite the dark themes, this is an unapologetically “woke” book—anti-organized religion, anti “alpha” males, anti-prejudice, pro-diversity, pro-LGBTQIA+, and very pro-feminist. If this is not your thing, now is the time to run.

Halfblood Deceived is a slow, slow, SLOW burn, but there are VERY explicit and VERY fucking consensual M/F sex scenes between the main characters. There are also explicit M/M sex scenes between secondary characters in the bonus content. I consider these essential to the development of the characters. If you prefer so-called clean romance, I strongly recommend that you don’t read this book. Or any of my books, really.

I can promise there is a light at the end of the tunnel for the heroine. And found family lighthearted moments to balance out the darkness. But I urge you to proceed with caution.




Thursday, February 6, 2020

TEMPTED: Demon/Cleric Short Story

So, I got obsessed with this writing prompt and now I have a short story! Morrigan help me, now I want to write a book πŸ˜‚ 



TEMPTED


"Wake up."
Ethan groaned and hugged the pillow tighter, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He'd been having a pleasant dream, one of those where you can see a memory from another perspective. 
A hard poke with a sharp nail on his ribs made him flinch.
"Ow, was that necessary?" reluctantly, he opened one eye. Purple cat-like eyes were the first thing he saw. Even after months of looking at those unearthly eyes he felt a small swoop on his stomach; not fear precisely, but the recognition that he was in the presence of someone with vast power.
That someone lifted a brow in an unimpressed gesture. "You will be late for work, again."
Ethan smiled. That accent, it had been his doom since day one. 
"And as you've been saying, your boss is already displeased with you," Zath'tarith drawled in his most bored tone.
Ethan snorted and rolled to lie on his back. His boss, Bishop Rossi, had never hidden his deep suspicion and dislike for him. 
If he only knew half of it, Ethan mused.
Rossi was a traditionalist, the recent tolerance towards demons was something he despised. Ethan was certain the old man would happily start another crusade if he could. But tides had changed, decades ago humans had been terrified of demons and the Church had happily hunted them down; that was until humans began to befriend and even fall in love with demons. Not all demonic races were the same after all, while some enjoyed causing havoc and pain, others simply wanted a life outside of the dark dimension they'd been trapped in for millennia. Zath was one of the latter of course.
"Maybe I should perform an exorcism or banish a demon to get on his good graces, my post is in the balance," Ethan mused. "Any of your buddies fancies making a show?"
Zath pinned Ethan with a look that blended exasperation and affection. "I'll ask, now get your pale ass in the shower."
Ethan chuckled and sat, running a hand through the thick strands of brown hair that stuck up in all angles. He lived in a small apartment just a block away from the church where he worked as a Cleric. He could've had small quarters within the church, but the wards would not allow his half-blood and demon friends through and that would be a tragedy. 
He barely had time to register the movement before finding himself firmly pinned down by Zath. The high-class demon's pupils were blown, his eyes almost black. Ethan licked his lips nervously feeling the tremendous contained strength on the hands that held his wrists; he flushed bright pink when Zath's eyes traveled down his body. He'd always seen himself as average at best, lean and athletic but miles away from the Greek god looks of his boyfriend. 
"Weren't you the one telling me to get out of bed?" Ethan asked on a tremulous voice as Zath leaned down to kiss a torturous path from his shoulder to his neck. The demon grinned, ink-black hair half-shielding his eyes.
"Maybe you can be 15 minutes late," Zath said, capturing Ethan's mouth in a kiss before he could respond.

****

15 minutes turned into half an hour. Ethan was fumbling with his robes as he entered the office on the back of the church, dreading the telling off he was going to get. Still, a stupid smile adorned his face.
To his surprise, Rossi wasn't there yet. A sour-looking nun was waiting for him though. She was new, he wasn't sure of her name.
"Bishop Rossi is indisposed, you will lead the mass in 15 minutes," she all but barked handing him a sheet with a sermon.
Ethan blinked, trying to hold back the panic before it could begin to build. Speaking in public wasn't his thing. And giving sermons about purity and guarding oneself against evil demons didn't help. If the Church ever found out he was more than just acceptant of half-bloods, that he was, in fact, a very gay and definitely not chaste cleric they'd sack him. And he needed to remain inside to warn his friends of the unauthorized attacks the Church launched against demons. 
Cursing under his breath, he rushed towards the altar. He decided to tune out his own words as he led the congregation in prayer and began with the depressing sermon. 
Rossi has outdone himself, Ethan thought wrily. 
The candles began to flicker as the temperature in the room dropped. Ethan blinked to focus, the congregation began to whisper and look around searching for the source of what was an unmistakeable supernatural presence.
A vortex of black and purple light formed right in the middle of the aisle. A 6-foot-5 male stepped right out of the portal, black hair falling straight to his shoulders. The demon idly flicked his fringe back in place as a collective gasp erupted from the congregation; no one dared to move.
Ethan stared in disbelief at his boyfriend, standing right there and reminding every single faithful that high-ranking demons were capable of breaking the wards set by the Priests.
'This is not a good time,' Ethan thought, aiming his mental strength to Zath.
The demon took a few steps closer to the altar, fixing the cuffs of his black shirt. 'I can see that.'
Ethan could hear his drawl, he fought back a smile. 'Is there something you need?' 
'No, it is you who needed something from me, remember?' Zath asked.
'Oh! Right, yeah.'
Ethan bit his lip thinking about how to begin with the impromptu show, but his mind was still on swooning mode and not cooperating.
'Fuck's sake, Ethan, at least pretend to banish me,' Zath said, a malevolent grin spreading on his face. 
It should scare Ethan, it really should. Normal people feared 600-year-old demons. But Ethan had never been normal; his pulse was racing for an entirely different reason. 
"Shoo, naughty one!" as soon as the words were out, Ethan cringed.
Zath's incredulous snort wasn't helping either. 
"You aren't making me feel very welcomed, cleric," Zath said aloud, his deep voice carried the timbre he used when he wanted to terrorize humans. One swift glance at the still shock-paralyzed congregation told Ethan how effective it was.
"You aren't welcome in these holy walls," Ethan said with faux sternness, Zath's arched brow told him he wasn't doing a good job. "Not unless you repent for your sins."
Zath chuckled, purple eyes brimming with mischief. "But sinning is so delicious, cleric."
A shiver ran down Ethan's spine. Don't I know it, he thought.
Ethan took the bible from the pulpit, holding it as a shield. "Then I shall have to banish you. In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, ego eieci te!"
Zath took a step back and hissed, anger shining in his eyes. "We shall meet again, cleric," he warned and then disappeared in a burst of purple energy. 
Ethan schooled his expression into grim resolution and triumph, trying not to laugh. Zath was by far a better actor than he was. 
The congregation remained silent for a few heartbeats and then erupted in cheers and began to thank Ethan profusely. He plastered a reassuring, beatific smile on his face as he blessed them all and promised no demon would ever enter the church as long as he or Bishop Rossi were there to stop it.
His position in one of the last openly traditionalist churches had been secured with the assistance of his demon boyfriend. Ethan was sure his friends would thoroughly enjoy the irony, he sure did.

©Selene Kallan 2020
________________

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