SPEED WRITING EROTICA #2

SKETCH DRAFT

current summary

Forced bestiality, humiliation, incest

Young man stays with his uncle for a week. The place is weird, and he has no idea how his uncle makes his money, but the boy is in trouble at home, trouble in school, and his parents are fed up. Uncle breeds champion dogs or something. Call with mother who warns him not to bother his uncle. When uncle asks how his mother is, the boy is rude about it. The kid has a mouth on him, defensive, and dickish. It’s clear why his parents are fed up.

Boy stumbles across noises at night, his uncle very disappointed to be interrupted. He told him to knock. Uncle goes to get washed up, having been helping a dog get off who is now off his focus. His prized pet. Nephew waits, only to have the dog start being aggressive with him, boy obsessed with the dog’s dick and the thick bulb. Sees the camera and asks when the uncle comes back. It’s important to document the process. Does he ever film the breeding process? You know, when they’re fucking the bitches. Of course. There must be some freaks into that, huh? There’s a freak for everything, kid. Now get lost. You’re throwing the dog’s focus. Nah, I think he likes me. Keeps humping my leg. Kid jokes but the uncle fixates on it. You’re right. You want to help me milk this dog. He’s a champion breed and it’s important. Uh, that’s kind of weird. Oh. You ever get payed hundreds for your sperm? Whoa, really? Do a good job and I’ll even pay you. Okay.

Kid realizes its probably not going to be worth the money too late into all the requirements. Has to strip down, something about his clothes being dangerous for the dog’s legs. What about him? Isn’t his skin in danger? He’s a trained dog, he’s not going to bite you and his nails are kept short. He’s a professional. Now get down on his level. He just needs to let him cover him with hormones and then the dog will do the rest. What, just let him hump me? Yes. I created a this device to collect the sample. You don’t have to do anything but kneel and act like a bitch. The boy glares but the uncle’s expression is bland. I’m not joking. I want you to act like a bitch to get the dog interested in you. Starts filming and the boy is mortified. You want to get paid or not? Gonna be hard to go live out on your own without money.

Dog rutting against him, the underwear supposed to protect him. The collection device fills up quick and the uncle removes it, and needs to get another container. During the switch, the dog refuses to let up and the boy calls, asking him to hurry. He’s a mess, feeling the cum splashing on him, wondering if that stupid camera is still filming. This was a bad idea. Nothing is worth this kind of embarrassment. Will you hurry! Chill the fuck out. Things take as long as they take. The dog starts rutting in earnest, the boy trying to escape but afraid he’s somehow going to throw the creature off its focus. The entire point was to get the damn thing into it. The underwear isn’t a perfect fit and the dog’s cock gets under it, gets inside him, fucking him, breeding him, his uncle filming and doing nothing to help. Uncle grabs the boy from the nape when he tries to escape, holding him in place as the dog jacks his bulb into him. He’s a champion, kid. You gotta give the big dogs what they deserve.

Something about the boy wasting the cum with the dog cumming in him, bareback. Uncle takes the boy’s hole after, fucking him raw and filling him with more cum.

INTRO

goal: 1000 wrds

Intro

HOOK

goal: 1500 wrds

Hook

BUILD UP

goal: 3500 wrds

Build up

PEAK

goal: 3000 wrds

Peak

RESOLUTION

goal: 1000 wrds

Resolution

Hey babes,

Tough week out in the world and my heart is feeling so heavy today. The repeal of the HB2 bill in North Carolina was a fucking joke as they scrambled to make money off of college football; there are no actual protections, trans teenagers are still in danger, and now they have to wait 3 whole years for the right to even pass a law protecting anyone against discrimination. ICE is now arresting undocumented immigrants while they’re filing for their green cards—they’re using the filing process as a way to track them down. They are going into our communities, singling out the ones trying to do things by the law, and punishing them. ICE is breaking up families, communities, and this damn country. And the first responders to these terrible stories? They’re the ones that say minorities, strangers, those different don’t deserve basic human rights. These are the voices cheering and I have never wanted to commit violence against my fellow man the way I have when I hear them.

I have never had something wonderful happen in my life and not wished that everyone could share it. Even my moments of self-centeredness as I thought too much inwards never stopped my heart from wanting the best for all of us. I don’t understand all these people that feel happiness, hearth, and home should be restricted to them alone. That the government should only protect their existence and their right to live. This idea of scarcity, like if other people find joy in this country, they will somehow not have a chance at it. Joy spreads if it is allowed to; it lifts all of us up when it lifts one. Communities grow together, not in small pieces.

But it is not joy these people are calling for, it’s hatred and destruction. Their selfishness disgusts me. I feel at war with all this hatred and apathy and the ugliness seems to have taken root and grown. My ability to forgive is slipping away—I’m not even sure forgiveness is the right answer to a problem like this. And it’s only been two months.

As a now grown battered child, I am well aware of the messages out there that pervade our society. That there can be some people innately deserving of the hate because they exist differently. I was born into poverty and violence and I had to spend every day telling the world I am worth something just to survive. It would have been a lot easier if the nameless masses would have stopped blaming their problems on the poor, on the children that need help, on the people born different from them that dared to live even though their circumstances weren't their vision of ideal. My existence hurt no one, but these people crush millions with their cruel disregard for the rights of all life, the life that looks different then theirs.

I gotta find some joy to spread because I don’t want this hatred to blossom in me either. So… I dunno. I guess I’ll share a little fic I’m working on at the bottom of this newsletter this week. Because unicorns make shit better.

Anyone have any ridiculously cute pictures of baby animals or something? I could use some ridiculously cute pics today. I can pop them up on the website version of the newsletter if anyone else needs a smile. Fuck, I need a smile.

Got some new goodies for you all. Oh, and this is the last week to get My Broken Angel at $0.99 and the same for snagging The Autumn Prince and Bite for free. It’s all below with pretty links. And I’m doing another sneak peek of Sorcerer Slayer this week (what, you thought you were going to get my newsletter and not have to read things? Ha!) I don’t want to go too deep into the story plot cus I feel like it would be too spoilerish so I think this time I’m going to settle on introducing… Vincent. Long scene but it’s full of happenings.

Clouded Hell by J. R. Gray $0.99

I survive on avoidance. Physical pain to avoid the mental. Disposable flesh to avoid relationships. Work to avoid attachment. My club became my empire of avoidance. Inside the ring millions are won and lost. The fight is confined to breaths, actions and reactions, fists and pain. Rules don’t exist. Only my opponent exists.

I’d been avoiding my needs for far too long when Remi stumbles into the Inferno and I’m hungry. The promise of a submissive with no attachment is far too tempting. I can’t resist him. He was only supposed to be a distraction, but I know I'll never get over him. There isn't a chance in this clouded hell.

Innocence Sold: First Time Bareback Cowboys Free

Cole Berry has been an obedient pastor's son all his life—but now, all that's about to change. When he lost his mother to cancer, he found out something about his father that he has never been able to forgive. And although it was a scandal in their gossipy small town, Cole doesn't feel his father was ever punished enough for this transgression.

But he's about to be.

Instead of asking for donations for church repairs at the town fair, Cole intends to make an entirely different announcement. He's gay—and he'll be auctioning off his virginity to the highest bidder.

The entire town is in the crowd, and most of them are shocked… but some are thinking of bidding. Among them is local loner cowboy Beckett Walsh, whose divorce alienated him from the community a couple of years back. Cole is beautiful, sure enough, but is this really what either of them wants?


Sorcerer Slayer Excerpt 2--Vincent


My Secret Brony (rough draft—chapter one)

Josh was trying to finish the rest of his classwork so he could leave on time but he was having a really hard time focusing. Most of his classmates had already left and his teacher was erasing down the white board before leaving for the day. It was a beautiful summer afternoon outside and his college had huge windows that were cracked open to let the fresh air in. On the other side of the glass was a green expanse of rolling hills and clear skies that were seen through the little garden. Not that he noticed. No, he was too busy staring at the two guys to the right of him that were not so quietly fighting

His eyes sliding to the side again, Josh watched as Carter slowly walked a little plastic figurine across Skylar’s desk. By the glare Skylar was sending and the way his teeth were grit, he looked about ready to punch Carter in the face.

It was difficult not to stare at Skylar even when he wasn’t growling at his best friend. Skylar was just so… Wow. He was gorgeous, which probably should have been enough with those flashing, intense eyes of his and full, red lips. He had a great body too, fit, lithe, with shoulders that Josh had more than a few occasions found himself staring at instead of his whatever he was supposed to be doing. But on top of being totally sexy, Skylar was also ridiculously adorable. Crazily so.

For one, he wore rainbow nail polish. Josh had never seen anything like it before but he had a feeling Carter must have gotten it. It changed colors and it had to be magic, and Carter was the only sorcerer Josh knew that attended the school. Which might have totally sucked, because if Carter was getting Skylar gifts, they were totally dating. Except, if they were dating, Skylar wouldn’t always look like he was ready to throw Carter through a damn window. No, Carter treated Skylar like a little brother he liked to annoy the sanity out of. He was both super protective while teasing him mercilessly. It was kind of weird.

Not that he cared or anything… Fine, he fucking cared. Skylar was just, well, awesome. Since the first day he had walked into class a month ago, Josh hadn’t been able to think of anyone else. With his handsome features and shoulder length blond hair dyed blue and pink, Skylar had been impossible to look away from. He was just so confident, and gorgeous, and he didn’t take shit from anyone.

“Stop being a dick,” Skylar hissed. Josh jolted when a thud sounded. When he looked up, Skylar had both his hands on his desk and Carter’s hand pinned down beneath them.

“Come on, it’s cute.” Carter smiled winningly but it did nothing to cool the angry heat to Skylar's glare. “Just like you. Did you see the sparkles?”

“Fuck you and your damn sparkles.”

Snorting, Carter ducked down and whispered something in Skylar’s ear. Josh watched as a blush reddened Skylar’s cheeks. Skylar opened his mouth, obviously ready to explode. When Carter pulled away to get out of reach, the figurine that was trapped in his hand fell to the floor and skittered under Josh’s desk.

Blinking down at the blue vinyl horse, Josh stopped pretending to finish his classwork. He stooped and snagged the figurine. Up close, it was even cuter than first thought, and he had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. It was a unicorn with adorable little wings and its mane sparkled with rainbow glitter. It suited Skylar perfectly and he loved it.

He glanced up and found both Skylar and Carter staring at him. Fighting a blush to have his crush actually looking at him, Josh immediately reached over to hand the unicorn back. “Uh… here. Sorry.”

“I don’t want it,” Skylar said flatly while looking at Josh’s hand like he was holding something offensive.

Realizing he wasn’t going to actually take the figurine, Josh stood and placed it on Skylar’s desk. He couldn’t help but smile to find the little unicorn was able to stand on its own. “Did you name it?”

“No.” Glaring down at his desk, Skylar added huffily, “Horses are stupid.”

“No they’re not.” Josh was quick to pick up the blue pony and point out the wings and horn. “Besides, he’s a winged unicorn. They’re super cool.”

Blushing brighter, Skylar shook his head fiercely without saying another word, his face hidden behind a curtain of brightly dyed hair. Josh couldn’t help but stare down at the top of Skylar’s head, surprised with just how shy he was being.

Actually… the unicorn in his hand had the same hairdo as Skylar. “You know, if you had a tattoo of a stormcloud on your butt, you’d be just like this unicorn,” Josh teased gently.

“I don’t!” Skylar jumped up, his hand covering his jeans as he whirled and glared at both Skylar and Carter, who was snickering behind his hand.

Confused, Josh quickly tried to apologize. “I was just joking. I know you’re not a unicorn or anything. It’s not like people can turn into unicorns.” He gave a wistful smile.

“They can’t,” Skylar insisted, his glare focused over Josh’s shoulder where Carter was now outright laughing. “Fuck you,” he snarled, reaching over to shove Carter’s arm. With a final glare, Skylar whirled, his multicolored hair floating around his head as he stomped out the classroom door.

Josh stared after him in dismay, the unicorn still clutched in his hand. Skylar had left all his books and everything.

Fuck, he had barely said anything to the guy and it had been enough to send him out the door.

Sighing, he looked down at the blue unicorn, his brows furrowed in thought. He had just wanted to talk to Skylar, maybe find something in common or whatever. How he had managed to get the kid pissed off at him, he wasn’t really sure but it felt like a total defeat. He had been trying to get up the nerve to talk to Skylar since he had first met him—Damn, the guy just did something to him. Crazy things that made his heart race and his palms sweat, and made him think teasing him when he was angry was a good idea.

His laughter finally under control, Carter combed his blond locks back into place as he stepped up beside Josh.

“He forgot his pony.” Josh held it up, a part of him not want to relinquish the little unicorn.

“Don’t take it personally. He’s a fucking grump this time of day.” Rummaging into his pockets, Carter nodded at the figurine. “You should go bring him it. He loves the damn thing no matter how much he yells. But first… give him one of these.”

Blinking in confusion, Josh just stared as Carter opened his palm to reveal two sugar cubes. When he didn’t immediately take them, Carter grabbed his hand and poured them into Josh’s grasp.

“Why would I…?” Josh asked hesitantly.

“Because he’s grumpy and this is the only way to cheer him up.” Carter flashed him a knowing smile.

Staring at his handful of sugar cubes and the way each individual crystal caught the light of the room, Josh again looked up in confusion. Carter was a weird guy. His father was supposedly some big sorcerer bigshot but Carter didn’t go to a magic school even though he was clearly capable of doing magic. It was weird. Carter was also popular even though he was a magic user. Josh wasn’t sure if that was because he was actually a nice guy or if he knew spells to make people like him. You never really knew with sorcerers, especially ones that seemed to take pissing his friend off as his main hobby.

“Do you really feed your best friend sugar cubes?” Josh finally asked, feeling like the question had to be voiced.

“When I want him to be nice and not yell at me? Yeah, all the fucking time,” Carter responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Feeling like he might be about to piss Skylar off even more, Josh just nodded silently and closed his fingers around the sweet treats. He didn’t have to actually give them to Skylar. He could just go find him and apologize for upsetting him. And if Skylar wanted to maybe go out for coffee or something after with him—totally as a way to make up for things—that would be really cool too.

***

Josh found Skylar outside the school exit. He was hunched over next to the water fountain, muttering to himself while he tugged fitfully at his blue tinted bangs. Skyar didn’t seem to notice him, not until he was right next to him. Even then, he only glanced his way, his eyes narrowing warily when he saw the pony in Josh’s hand.

Josh held up the blue unicorn and indicated the flowing tail. “You have to admit, the hair is just like yours.” He was hoping for a more reasonable conversation now that Carter wasn’t there to laugh. But Skylar immediately huffed and his shoulders tensed, and he once again looked like he was about to take a swing at him.

Clearing his throat nervously, Josh hesitantly held up his other hand, wondering if this was about to get him punched in the face. Carter did everything he could to annoy Skylar and he couldn’t help but assume that this was just another in the long line of stupid pranks. Still, he was willing to try anything if only to get Skylar to stop thinking he was being an asshole. He slowly opened his hand and revealed the two sugar cubes.

His breath hitching, Skylar’s gaze fixed on his hand. Josh braced himself, certain he was going to get yelled at, if not shoved. The moment stretched on, Skylar’s stare eventually raising to meet his. There was a wariness in his gaze even as he edged closer to where Josh was standing. “Are those for me?”

“Y-Yeah. Uh, if you want them.” Josh was pretty sure he had lost his mind. Skylar was looking at his hand like he was holding treasure instead of a couple of crumpled sugar cubes. It got even more strange when Skylar suddenly dipped his head down, his breath hot as it moved over Josh’s open palm. Holding himself impossibly still, he could only stare when Skylar’s lips parted and his tongue teased out to steal one of the treats.

Skylar made a soft noise of satisfaction and Josh jolted, the sound going straight to his dick. When he dared to look at him, he found Skylar had straightened and was gazing up at him, his hair hiding one of his eyes, red lips parted to reveal the sugar cube he had caught and was slowly sucking on.

Finding everything about Skylar impossibly sexy, Josh did his best to keep his voice from cracking. “You uh… you really like these things, huh?”

God, he wanted to kiss him. Holding himself back, Josh instead raised his palm and gave a hesitant lick to the other white cube. The shock of flavor surprised him but not as much as the noise Skylar made when he saw him. Looking his way, he found Skylar staring at his hand hungrily as if afraid he was going to eat the sugar on him.

“Did you want it?”

Nodding quickly, Skylar stepped right in front of him, his mouth immediately going for Josh’s hand. It brought his face inches from his and Josh held his breath, his eyes wide as Skylar pressed his lips against his fingers and his tongue lapped out. Skylar moaned into his palm from the intense sweetness hitting his tongue and the world went hazy. Before he could pull away, Josh crossed the space and pressed his lips to the corner of Skylar’s mouth.

Gasping, Skylar turned his head, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He glanced through his lashes up at Josh while the sugar melted in his mouth.

Not sure just what the hell had come over him, Josh couldn’t help but notice that Skylar hadn’t actually stepped away from him. “Didn’t that bother you?”

Glancing his way again, Skylar shrugged. “Tastes like sugar. I like sugar. A lot.” His gaze drifted to Josh’s lips a moment, only to glance away.

Josh really wasn’t sure what to make of Skylar. No straight guy would just pretend he hadn’t kissed him. Actually, it seemed like a passive opening to let him do it again. His eyes catching on Skylar’s hand, he grabbed it in his own and lifted it up to study his rainbow colored nails. “I like your nail polish.” He met Skylar’s dark eyes, his own mouth going dry. “You’re really cute, Skylar.”

“Err…” His cheeks turning red, Skylar quickly looked away. “I don’t, uh, like guys,” he mumbled.

“Really?” It was hard to believe him when he was blushing so cutely. Not to mention how his breath had sped up but he hadn’t actually tried to pull away even now. Josh looked down, his breath hitching when he found Skylar’s jeans bulging slightly. “I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend.” Josh dared to lean in closer, his lips brushing Skylar’s cheek. “Are you sure you don’t like guys?”

His blush moving down his neck, Skylar took a step back but didn’t pull his hand away. “You don’t understand… If you really knew what I was, you wouldn’t be interested.”

How he could manage to look even cuter was beyond him. “I really like you.” Josh stepped forward, pulling Skylar closer, breathing in the scent of his skin as he spoke into his ear. “There’s nothing you can say that would make me not like you. Promise.” He used his other hand to tilt Skylar’s chin his way, his eyes glued on his parted, red lips.

His breath coming out in quick gasps, Skylar made a choking cough noise and stumbled back. His hair fell forward over his forehead as he ducked his face but it did nothing to hide the horn that had suddenly sprouted.

Wide eyed, Josh could only stare. It was a silver horn. In the center of his forehead. Spiraled, sharp pointed, and wicked looking. He was vaguely aware of a pain in his hand and when he looked down he found he had a death grip on the little blue unicorn figurine. His eyes took in the silver horn on the toy, noticing it was a perfect, if not smaller replica of Skylar’s.

Holy fuck.

Home Invasion

Joshua is losing it. Stuck in the house with his oblivious father, he's hoping to get through the winter break without making a complete ass out of himself. His unnatural attraction has only gotten worse with time, and nothing he does can curb his obsession.

Kyle Wright can’t figure out why Joshy has gotten so quiet lately. Worried that college has been too hard on his son, he’s determined to make the holidays fun for the both of them.

That Christmas evening, when dusk is darkening the sky, a stranger visits the Wright’s home wearing a Santa hat and carrying a gun. Bound and forced to submit to the thief’s depraved demands, the Wright men try to find a way to survive the night.

Nick isn’t a saint by any means, but he might be the miracle Joshua’s been dreaming of. That is if the gunman's ever willing to leave.

This fic is over 25,000 words and contains explicit sexual m/m content between multiple partners and graphic language. It features forced incest, first time, straight to gay, a very small amount of violence, and a HFN ending.
25,000+ wrds, Published January 15, 2017.
Heat level: XXX


WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT HOME INVASION

4.5 stars. You will need a cold shower after reading this one! Sadie surprises me each time I read her books, and I love that! This one was just as hot as her others but with a kinky twist that just burned up the pages. I look forward to seeing more of Josh and Kyle, and of course, Nick.
Obsession was seriously intense yet exciting. Nick's involvement in the story heightened the intensity of the unfolding events making it more dangerous, edgy yet forbidden. A crazy, life threatening situation turns into something dirty, twisted and hot. Sadie's books never disappoint and this one was no exception.
Sadie Sins never fails to amaze me. Joshua is infatuated with his dad Kyle. The guilt and shame Joshua feels gets stronger as you read. With Kyle there is the fear for his son's safety and mental wellbeing. Then you have his guilt on top of that. The strongest emotion of all is how much Joshua and Kyle love each other. What intrigued me most though was Nick. What made him chose that house? What made him linger before Joshua showed up? I can't wait to learn more as this series unfolds. As usual, Sadie Sins not only gives you a great read, but also leaves you waiting for more. Always delivers a story that is unique and full of life. I highly recommend all of her books.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Why couldn’t this damn holiday be over already?

Joshua gave Max a final ruffle to his golden fur that was currently dusted in snow, then shooed the dog towards the garage where it could dry off without making a mess of the house. His father was at the mailbox down their long, flat driveway, peering into the small metal container with a contemplative look on his face. They had managed to ignore mail for the entire week of Joshua’s winter vacation, but apparently Christmas Eve had been the deciding factor for his dad to tackle the growing pile. He wanted to celebrate the holidays without having to think of any bills or thank-you notes.

Joshua’s nerves were at their breaking point. He couldn’t even blame it on the holiday. No, it had been a subdued affair this year. His dad knew college was crushing him and had insisted on just having the time for the two of them. The woman his father had been seeing for the last few months hadn’t worked out. Joshua didn’t know if he was relieved or frustrated by it all. The longer he was left alone with his dad, the more stressed he was getting.

His dad was great, just to be clear. Kyle Wright was about the most perfect man ever—hell, a superman even. Joshua’s mother had passed away over ten years ago, but his dad had never faltered once. No, he had gotten an extra job and then clawed tooth and nail to the top of the tech industry so that he could have time to spend with his son instead of leaving him at the neighbors all the time. Joshua was super proud of his dad. Which was why it sucked extra that it was awkward as fuck to be around him.

He didn’t want to ruin the holidays—not that he was enjoying things much. No, even though his goal was to not to bring it up, Joshua couldn’t make his brain stick to that rule. It kept spinning around in his mind, again and again.

He might be gay… Gay, or really confused. Gay, or at least interested in being fucked.

Probably gay. Maybe.

Tearing his mittens from his hands, Joshua pulled his keys from his pocket and made his half-frozen fingers open the front door. The heat of the house hit him square in the face, and he paused. It felt nearly suffocating when stepping in compared to the crisp winter air outside. The snow he had barely noticed began to immediately melt, creating rivulets of water that dripped down his hair and face he had to blink away from his eyes.

Joshua had caught his dad, well, jerking off that summer break. Awkward. Really fucking awkward. See, there had been this magazine. One of those magazines that existed for one reason, and it wasn’t for reading the articles. He still wasn’t sure where his dad had gotten it… He still wasn’t sure about a lot of things. Joshua had walked past the bathroom one morning only to find the door ajar and his father staring at a magazine. Staring at it while touching himself.

It had been the first dick besides his own he had seen in real life, and for some confusing reason, it had been fascinating. So large when fully erect, so thick and turgid as his father’s strong hand had moved confidently up and down the flushed length. Joshua had suspected he might like boys as well as girls before then. In that moment, he realized just how attractive a man was. A large, fully developed, muscle rippling man with a dick the length of a ruler.

He had watched, silent, saliva filling his mouth, hyper-alert to every sound his father made. The soft grunts, low, masculine sighs, and noise of his lubed cock sliding and then slapping louder in his fist when he pumped in earnest. The growl his father had released right before he came had sent such intense shivers through him that Joshua still had the bad habit of getting hard whenever he heard his father growl at something in anger.

Just thinking about it now got him so hard. Hard and panting and wishing he could stop this insanity. Not that it had been the last time he had tried to spy on his father that summer. No, his curiosity had not been sated by one very dirty peep show. And dirty it had been. His father had blown his load all over the pages, Joshua seeking out the ruined magazine in curiosity once his father had left.

He had turned to the page Kyle had been looking at, identifying it as the one coated in thick streaks of his semen. Joshua had assumed he’d find a woman that looked a bit like his late mother, or maybe even the very large breasted one on the cover coated in clear latex who had displayed every inch of herself with fingers splaying her inner lips. No, not on that page. His father’s choice had been far more revealing in ways Joshua still couldn’t get his mind around. It had been of a brunette bent forward on knees, the camera focused on a toned back where his hands were bound in rope. His legs had been spread wide to straddle the hips of an unseen man whose hands were holding his cheeks open wide for the camera.

It had started Joshua’s fascination with two subjects that had yet to bore him no matter how much he researched: bondage and anal sex. Gay anal sex.

The familiar wash of desire and shame hit him full force. He groaned softly and leaned his weight against the front door until it shut tight. He still wouldn’t call himself gay… Not really. He didn’t think of guys that way… A lot. Fuck, okay, just sometimes he really wondered what his dad thought of guys like that. It always got him so hard that he couldn’t stop thinking about it until he got off.

He could count on his left hand how many times he had actually dared to buy a dirty magazine and leave it out in the hopes of his father doing it again. He knew he was sick—he fucking knew it—and he was grateful that Kyle had never risen to the bait. Because if he had… Fuck, he never would have stopped trying to lure him. It had gotten to the point that Joshua had fantasies of coating himself in pages of filthy magazines if only to get his father to look at him the way he had been looking at that image.

There was something wrong with him. Really fucking wrong with him. In that one moment, he had stopped seeing Kyle Wright as just a father. Instead, he had seen him as a sexual being and hadn’t been able to differentiate since.

Not just any sexual being. His. Connected and existing just for him with the most beautiful blue eyes ever.

Stepping into the house, Joshua kicked his snow-coated boots off. He bent over, clunking the wet footwear together until they were free of the quickly melting slush, then placed them on the rubber mat by the wall right in front of the heater vent. His heavy winter coat ended up hanging above on the series of hooks just for that purpose. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of his father through the window in the growing dusk outside, the blond man’s rugged, handsome face fixed on the mail as he slowly drifted down the snow coated driveway.

It wasn’t hard for his dad to be a sexual figure if he were honest. Kyle wasn’t old the way a lot of his friends’ dads were old, and not just because he had only been 24 when he had started a family. He was still fit, still sharp witted and jovial. Kyle could catch him in a joke faster than anyone else, and race him for a soccer ball and still win if Joshua didn’t try his hardest. His dad worked out, ate healthy, took care of himself. He even dated, a bittersweet occurrence for Joshua. Recently, he half hoped Kyle would find someone while cheering inwardly when he didn’t. Stupid—He knew it was fucking stupid, and selfish, and damn crazy.

He would do anything to make his dad happy, even if it meant never bringing any of this stuff up. He wasn’t ever going to tell him how messed up he felt—He didn’t need to burden his father with something that weighed so heavy on his own heart. A part of him was certain the only reason he wanted to talk to Kyle about his confusions over his sexuality was because he was secretly hoping he would start looking at him as available sexually. Joshua knew he was fucked up and he couldn’t even trust his motives when it came to his dad.

It wasn’t normal; he knew that. There was nothing normal about it at all. It didn’t stop the feelings, though. No matter how much he yelled at himself in his head, nothing stopped how crazy he felt. How hot he got just being in the same room as his dad, how much he thought of the man’s body, his dick, that growl whenever he masturbated. Joshua knew it was wrong and he couldn’t stop it, and he really needed for Christmas to be over so he could get the fuck out of the house and away from his unbearably sexy dad.

Going away to college hadn’t fixed anything. Joshua had tried to hook up with a guy just to see. He had thought maybe he could get it out of his system, but all his timid experimentations with a boy his age had proven to be boring and lacking in the fire he got from his very active imagination. He had even considered hitting on his teacher who was about his dad’s age but, well, the guy was married, for starters, and it just kind of went downhill after that.

Coming home to his dad with no one there to interrupt, to distract, to be witness to the insane lust burning in him had been the worst. Knowing Kyle was sleeping just feet down the hall had made everything so difficult. Every time he touched himself while lying in bed, the level of danger had grown. It would have been nothing to let his moans ring out. So easy to gasp and cry for relief until his father heard him and came to see what was wrong. And once he was there, Joshua would beg him to stay, just to stand there and watch while he touched himself. Maybe even have him come closer, touch him, taste… cover him in his hot cum like the pages of that magazine.

No, it hadn’t gotten better at all.

Returning home with such crazed thoughts had filled him with even worse guilt. His dad had clearly missed him and was woefully oblivious to just how fucked up he was. Kyle was hanging in there, putting up a strong front, but Joshua could tell. They used to do everything together. But going off to college had grown Joshua’s lust into something damn near insatiable and bigger than him. It had made everything so awkward. Even if his dad didn’t understand why, he just couldn’t change the fact that it was never going to not be awkward. Not when he had spent half the walk that evening staring at his dad’s ass and wondering if the man had ever fucked a guy.

Had he? That magazine had been full of women and some men, but his dad had gotten off on looking at the guy. He had chosen to drizzle cum all over that picture out of all the ones available. It had to mean something.

Dripping water onto the floor, Joshua’s socked feet slipped on the tile at the base of the carpeted stairs before he peeled them free from his clammy toes. He paused once reaching the top of the steps, the Christmas tree lights casting a soft, magical glow in the otherwise dark, empty space.

They lived in what average people would call a mansion. It was too big, too empty, but his father said it was an investment in real estate more than anything else. Joshua had grown used to it, even if the place still gave him the creeps when it was dark out and he was alone. It was partly why they had gotten Max when he was a kid. He barely remembered their last house, the one his mom had died in from a carbon monoxide leak from their old, faulty heater. Kyle insisted in having a CO detector in every room of the house now, just to be safe.

The carpet was quickly growing damp beneath his feet. Joshua shucked off his jeans, his mind hot on a shower. The material was half frozen, sticking to his chilled thighs as he tugged the jeans down and off. He rolled his pants up with his socks into a ball and tucked it all under his arm. He just needed a fresh towel and he’d be able to warm the hell up and jerk. God, he needed to fucking cum so bad. Returning home had put him in a near permanent state of arousal that no amount of masturbating seemed to be able to alleviate fully.

He ran his free hand over his erection through his red briefs, his steps faltering for a moment in the hall that led to the bedrooms. His father had just done laundry… Just, the idea of going into his room while hard and thinking of him was probably crossing a line.

The garage door gave a shudder right before it opened, echoing quietly through the house. Kyle was seeing to Max. Joshua could probably get off on his father’s bed and have time to clean up the mess if he was fast enough. Just thinking about it made his balls ache. It’s not like his dad would know. It’s not like he didn’t come all over the shower walls just anticipating his father was going to be in there after…

No, there was nothing normal about it. He had some fucked up obsession that he was losing control over.

His mind was hot with inappropriate thoughts and Joshua twisted the hem of his shirt and tried to take it off one handed as he walked. His shirt obscuring his vision, he didn’t see the man standing in his father’s bedroom, the tall figure between him and the pile of clean laundry on the bed.

“Damn.”

Freezing, Joshua realized with a stutter to his heart that the voice had come from in front of him and not behind. He slowly lowered his arm, unwittingly ruffling his dirty blond hair up as he pulled his shirt free and got a good look at the stranger. There was a click, and his eyes widened to take in the gun pointed at his head.

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Taken By Beasts

This collection contains five never before released, steamy paranormal stories of monsters and the innocent, handsome young men they call prey *cough* boyfriend, written by the mistress of dubcon, Sadie Sins. Inside you’ll find five unique storylines containing friends to lovers, straight to gay, mild BDSM, and even a few group, taboo moments. It has furry full moon transformations, haunted houses, Halloween parties, evil witches, horny sorcerers, sexy demons, a cat shifter in distress, the rare minotaur, a stalking vampire, and a pack of rude, trash talking werewolves that don’t take no for an answer. Not to mention, the promise of a happy, claw biting ending. This book will make you downright beg to be a victim.

Halloween has never been quite so naughty as when you’re Taken by Beasts.

18+ For explicit man on monster action, graphic language, breeding, growls, tears, and over 66,000 words of hot, sexy fun.
66,000+ wrds, Published October 28, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT TAKEN BY BEASTS

on October 30, 2016
Incredibly awesome, hot and steamy. Multiple books but all were well written erotic shorts, guaranteed to get you a little wet in the pants
on June 17, 2017
This was a really sexually erotic series of stories that was full of the paranormal and very entertaining. Vampires, thralls, werewolves, magicians, shifters and mythical creatures..Menage' is part of some of the stories and the sexual encounters are really hot. An excellent book. Would recommend it for anyone to read.
on June 1, 2017

I love this story collection. It has five wonderful stories, each one taking place on Halloween night. If I have to pick a favorite, it is the final story in the collection, a werewolf story that intrigued me and pulled me in from word one. I just loved the way the story unfolded, so perfectly through dark and shadow, the main character so haunted by howls and laughter in the woods. The writing in this one was some of the best I've seen by this author. (cont...)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Sebastian stepped reluctantly down the dark street, hearing the sounds of happy children shrieking yards away as they rang doorbells and demanded candy. He would have driven to the store, but the roads were black and reflective from the cold rain that had been misting that evening and with all the kids milling around for Halloween, he was certain he’d end up running one of the idiots over. Totally by accident, no matter how annoying they were with their costumes and laughing and damn near happy ass lives.

He might be depressed. Not that he didn’t have good reason—He wasn’t one of those emo types that just hated life. Much.

Scowling, Sebastian kicked a wet maple leaf off of his sneaker, feeling the trickle of water get in through the hole in the sole. Perfect. Really perfect. His parents had sent him out to get more candy for the trick-or-treaters, but at this point, he was pretty sure they just wanted to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to watch him mope.

Gay. Claire Stevenson thought he was gay.

She hadn’t even been mean about it. She wasn’t the first person to call him gay but most people had done it while making fun of his sappy heart when it came to animals or the fact that he was short and thin and apparently that automatically made him girly. Whatever. He probably could have dismissed it if she had been bitchy and trying to make him feel like shit about himself. Not that the end result was much different. Because the girl he’d been dating for the last three months had just dumped him because she thought he was gay.

God, he hated his life.

You’re just, well, not that into me, Sebastian. It’s like you’re a best friend, not a boyfriend. I can’t make you want me the way I want you, and that’s really, well, terrible feeling to be with someone that doesn’t want me back.

No, she hadn’t been mean at all, but Claire had still managed to destroy him with one damn conversation. He had liked Claire forever. Sebastian couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had a crush on her. Sure, he wasn’t the most romantic of guys—He’d never say he got butterflies or anything, but that didn’t mean he was gay. Sebastian was just really low key. Boring, if he was feeling down about it. Yeah, he was kind of boring—But not gay. He just didn’t get overly excited about stuff even if he had been crushing on Claire for ages now.

When I kiss you, it’s like, I dunno, wow for me. Really crazy and intense feeling. But you… I don’t think you feel much of anything at all.

God damn it, how could you even measure something like that? How could she just know she felt more than he did? It wasn’t like he was trying to compare or reach some goal of epic makeout sessions. He’d been dreaming about Claire forever, and the moment he finally had a shot at her, he had wanted to take things slow. You know, build a foundation between them. Prove that they could be a long term thing. All of his previous girlfriends had been more like a week to week trial with a whole lot of empty space in between, but with Claire, Sebastian had wanted things to be different.

Well, in a way, they had been, hadn’t they? Instead of being dumped for being too weird or distant, Claire had decided he really just wanted dick. Right after they had been kissing, at that.

He didn’t think he was a bad kisser. He got self-conscious a lot, especially if anyone could be around and see him, but when he did kiss, he thought he was kissing with all his heart. How could she think he didn’t feel just as much for her as she did him? Who even got to say how much you were supposed to feel for someone for it to be officially enough? Hadn’t he like, talked to her every day on the phone and tried to see her every moment he could? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to keep his schedule open around his job and college and her classes to take her out whenever she wanted? How could he do so much and have her think he didn’t feel anything for her? What the fuck else was he supposed to feel?

Fuck, was he supposed to feel something else?

Sebastian growled, his left foot landing hard in an unseen puddle and sloshing up his jean leg, the material immediately soaked. “Fucker.” He hopped, but the damage had been done, his sneaker now squishing with every new step he took, the wet shoe slipping on soggy leaves and concrete alike.

It was an extremely irritating internal monolog, one that didn’t seem to have any answers forthcoming. Sebastian didn’t know if he was feeling enough—He didn’t even know what the fuck he was supposed to feel. He had trusted his feelings this far. Finally, with a girl Sebastian had thought to one day want to marry, she had told him he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And the truth of it was, Sebastian wasn’t fully confident he was feeling everything he was supposed to.

Movies would have him believe he needed to make grand romantic gestures and last-second dashes to airports to show how much he cared. Real life wasn’t like that. At least, his real life wasn’t like that. He wasn’t the type to go rent out an ice skating rink for a romantic date or send twelve dozen roses for the week of Valentine’s Day. He didn’t feel the need to write a book of poetry for how Claire looked in the morning light. He wasn’t the type to want to slice his wrists just because the girl he’d been crushing on had dumped him. For real, who the fuck did that? That wasn’t love; that was just a total chemical imbalance of insanity…

Right?

Running a hand through his damp, black bangs, Sebastian sighed weakly as the line of convenience stores came into view. The small strip mall was lit up in neon oranges, purples, and reds for the holiday, calling customers in from the clammy, wet night with the promise of shelter and heat. He quickened his pace, ignoring the slosh of his sneaker with each frozen step.

God, was he like an unfeeling, dead-hearted idiot and just didn’t know it? Should he be, like, thinking about jumping off a bridge or something because Claire was never going to be with him? Hadn’t he been planning a life with this girl? She was funny, smart, cute, and just all around perfect. Sebastian had friends that acted like if they were dumped, their life was ending. Was he seriously wondering if he was supposed to feel love an entirely different way?

And just who the fuck decided what you were supposed to feel anyways!

He really didn’t know, and the lack of answers was beyond frustrating. Because if he didn’t know, how the hell could he change it? Did he want to change it? Did he need to conform to some level of ‘feeling’ or be forced to accept that he was doomed to be alone for the rest of his life?

Would being alone be better when he wouldn’t be judging himself on how much he was failing to feel for someone he supposedly loved or damn near loved?

Being dumped by Claire didn’t have Sebastian wanting to kill himself, but trying to figure this particular problem out was definitely getting him thinking about a sturdy plastic bag with no air holes.

Jesus, fucking girls. Dictating how he was supposed to feel while in the same breath telling him he wasn’t doing it right. He had felt just as much for Claire as he was meant to feel, or was at least capable of feeling. It might not have been enough for her, but it had been to the best of his damn ability at the time. He sure as fuck hadn’t felt that much for a guy before. Just because he hadn’t lost it over Claire didn’t mean he was gay.

***

He left the warm lights of the convenience store behind him with two bags of candy and an impulsive—but decidedly needed—six-pack in hand. Sebastian’s mood only grew worse when he found the mist that had surrounded him on the walk to the store had turned into a light drizzle that was quickly threatening to grow into a miserable downpour. He hunched forward in his hoodie, the sweatshirt material doing little to protect him from the freezing water and chill wind of approaching winter.

He was full of dread at the idea of going home and having to face his parents’ well-meaning yet completely unhelpful comments as to why things hadn’t worked out with Claire. They kept pushing for him—none too subtly, at that—to move into a dorm or apartment with a group of students his own age. So he could be more sociable. As loathe as he was to have to surround himself with a bunch of loud peers while at the same time losing any ability to fill his savings account, he was starting to consider it if only to avoid the ever increasingly awkward conversations of why he was still single and just couldn’t find the right girl.

As he slipped on slick leaves in the dark, leaning sideways against the wind while standing on the sidewalk, Sebastion began to contemplate his parents’ parting words before he had left the house half an hour ago. Maybe they had been suggesting something else when saying he hadn’t met the ‘right girl’ yet. Maybe they were saying he shouldn’t be expecting to fall for a girl at all…

Did everyone think he was gay just because he’d been unlucky in love?

The sound of crunching tires hitting leaves behind him caught his attention. Sebastian immediately stepped as far from the street as the sidewalk would allow, his expression growing stormy when he heard a puddle splash and felt a fresh spray of water as the vehicle roared past.

“Asshole!” He growled, raising his hand holding the bag full of candy while ineffectively wiping the side of his face that had gotten caught in the deluge of dirty water. He glared after the fading red taillights, glad that the rain had at least driven most of the trick-or-treaters inside so they wouldn’t have to deal with the same fate. Shaking himself off, he forced his frozen feet forward, quietly contemplating just who had insisted on Halloween being so late in the season when the weather was always so cold.

He was going to go home, lock himself in his bedroom, and drink himself to sleep. Not because he was depressed over Claire—no, apparently he still couldn’t work up enough emotion for that—but because he was so fucking annoyed by being told he didn’t know how to feel. He knew how to feel. He did it every fucking day. And if that wasn’t good enough, well, too fucking bad for Claire.

Somehow feeling more empowered in his anger even though he was still absolutely lost on what the fuck Claire had been trying to tell him, Sebastian splashed through puddles and piles of colorful, rain-drenched leaves until he reached the familiar streets of his neighborhood. The rain had only increased and his steps sped up in response, his sweatshirt soaked through and bangs now dripping into his green eyes, obscuring his vision. Which was why, when headlights suddenly flashed and Sebastian caught sight of a small, hunched body in the middle of the road, without thinking he immediately dashed forward.

A horn blared startling loud, the tires to Mr. Walden’s sedan shrieking on the wet pavement when the man slammed on his brakes to avoid Sebastian’s poorly lit form. He barely noticed, his gaze fixed on the middle of the road where a child’s plastic pumpkin treat holder was tipped upside down, candy scattered on the ground all around it. But where he had thought he had seen the body of a person, a drenched, wide-eyed black cat looked up at him, it’s fur matted to its trembling body.

“Sebastian! Are you out of your damn mind, boy? You could have been killed!” Rolling his window down roughly, the older man squinted into the rain, trying to see past Sebastian’s knees illuminated by his headlights. “Oh, hell, don’t tell me that’s a…”

“It’s a cat,” Sebastian said, wonder and warmth filling his voice in equal proportions as he bent down and offered the back of his hand to the small creature’s delicate nose. “I think he was eating the candy.” He had never known a cat to eat candy, but with the torn wrappers under the cat’s paw, he was pretty sure that was what it was doing.

Scowling with a mix of annoyance and relief to find that there was no child crumpled under the wheels of his car, Mr. Walden revved his engine impatiently. “Come on, get out of the street. Whatever it’s doing, the road is no place for it or you. Especially in this rain.”

Eyes of impossible periwinkle depths stared up into his. Crouching down, Sebastian held his hands out, the frail looking cat following the movement with its head warily. “You cold, little guy?” Sebastian crooned, carefully scratching behind a bedraggled ear. When no bite or hiss came, he edged closer, cautiously wrapping his arms around the cat’s body but not lifting just yet. “I’m going to get you out of this rain, okay? My home is nice and warm and you won’t have to worry about being run over.”

Taking the silence and trembling of the small form as permission, Sebastian carefully tightened his arms until the black cat was in his embrace. He stood slowly, hooking the plastic handle of the pumpkin with him so no kid would wander into the road to try and rescue it as well. He ignored Mr. Walden’s eyeroll—the man was clearly not as impressed by a pathetic, shivering, soaking wet cat as he was—and slowly walked his new friend to the sidewalk where they could both be safe.

“Do you have a collar, pretty?” He asked softly, gently scratching beneath the cat’s chin until it tilted its face up to reveal that it was indeed collarless. But even though the cat was bedraggled and scavenging for food, Sebastian was certain it belonged to someone or had only just recently lost its owner. It was far from feral, curled up in his arms and purring as it tried to heat itself against the rain and cold. It hadn’t tried to claw him or anything even though the poor thing had nearly been run over and had to be terrified.

Water dripped down onto Sebastian’s nose from the brim of his sweatshirt hood, startling him momentarily and reminding him that even though his new friend was safe from cars, it was still out in the miserable weather that could be just as dangerous for a domestic animal. Decided, he turned towards his house, speaking soothingly as he held the cat close against his chest between the damp layers of his shirt, offering it as much protection as he could from the elements while he took him home.

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The Autumn Prince

Forced to cross an elf-infested forest on the worst night possible, Eaves Sheridan’s journey grows more deadly when he comes across Tiernan, the Autumn prince. Injured, drugged, and furious, the freshly rescued elf prince is determined to find out just who Eaves is and if the human is the true villain behind his abduction.

Eaves has been hiding from the fae that live in the forest around his village, knowing if his secret is discovered, they’ll kill him. With a Truthseer on the way and guards all around, his chances of escape are slim.

Tiernan is to be wed that very night and Eaves is left at a crossroads. Return to the life he was certain he only ever wanted or give into the wildness he feels every time he hears the prince’s heart beat.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, suggestions of multiple partners, and some violence. Over 36,000 words long.

36,000+ wrds, Published September 9, 2016.
Heat level: X

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT THE AUTUMN PRINCE

on November 3, 2016
I love Sadie's take on fantasy. Hot elves, one confused halfling and a fateful trip through the forest make for a story that kept me up waaaaay past my bedtime (sleep is overrated anyway😘). I will most certainly read her revamped storyline when it comes out, I can't wait.
on September 11, 2016
I've been serial reading Sadie Sin this week and she is awesome. Her characters lure you in and make your heart race. Every book designed to give you a reminder of why Kindle's are a addicting: instant gratification. In her latest work, The Autumn Prince, Sins is giving us a break from her nail biting, Kindle tossing cliffhanger's. Focusing on a man who's been hiding his true nature his entire life, afraid if someone discovers his secret he'll die. The Autumn Prince is a story about a kind hearted halfling who's a badass with a temper, a Prince with a filthy mouth, and how these two come to meet.
on September 13, 2016
Once again Sadie delivers. I love her books and the way she tells her stories, and this one is no exception. To date my absolute favorite is still Demon Arms, if you haven't read it I highly recommend it. In any event you can't go wrong with any of her books.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

The night was alive with great power. The sky was full of the chill energy of the late season, when fires lit the sky and burned the leaves crisp and brown. It was the flash of life, snuffed out and crackling raw as winter came close to claim it silent. Eaves was familiar with this feeling, the tightness in his chest, the prickling of his senses, the racing of his blood as night sang through him.

He had watched young and old alike come alive, flush rushing across their skin to glow warm, eyes alight and reflecting the mad ache of things that could only be felt and never fully understood. They were compelled, dancing in this power, kneeling in the dirt. Some were driven to the brink of madness, and some lifted further still by Siren’s call moaning through the restless wind. Not all humans were struck, but the ones with remnants of the old blood were destined to answer the call tonight.

As for the beings brimming with the same blood, ancient as the night and the moon that ruled it, they joined their voices in wild chorus to fill the wind with the madness that only All Hollows Eve could bring.

Wild. Raw. Insane. Each chill breath stung Eaves' lungs and set him free. Each long stride brought him deeper into the dark forest and away from the structure and bars that only humans could create. Each movement undid him. His humanity unwound from him like a cloak, stripped him of his order beneath his well controlled glamours. He’d known this feeling many times in the safety of his studio with a brush in hand and a large assortments of colors laid out before him, but never within the forest. He had never been so brash to travel here when the Ancients were calling. Tricksters, thieves, death dealers; this was their hour. Among them, Eaves feared it would be his as well.

Eaves did not fear the Ancients in the way the humans he lived among did. He had no false delusions of them either, like the whimsical daydreamers that would skirt the edge of the trees, looking for adventure with a stray nymph. Their dangers and their treasures were as clear to him as the stars in the cloudless sky. He had no fascination or prejudice for them. Of the supernatural beings that he had met, all had gleamed his indifference from his aura as simply as one smelling a scent and let him be. Tonight, he found, was not to be the same.

It was not a full shock, given the way his heart was aflame as dark settled around him. Eaves had never walked the woods when the madness had been so close, thrumming in his veins, pulsing in his throat as if its fiery burn had taken over what his heart once was. Perhaps it had. There were very few of what Eaves was, killed before a chance to grow to his twenty some years and impressive physical strength. He had no one to ask if the madness was to be expected as he walked the woods. The one before him might know, but to reveal what Eaves was would be to signal for an undesired death.

The elf stood tall and willowy even though the well fitted armor he wore was undoubtedly heavy. Eyes the crisp gray of a clouded morning, he had taken one shrewd look at Eaves from behind the torch he held in hand and had seen something no one else had noticed of the young man in his years of walking the Earth. With the intricate crest of the Autumn Guard flickering gold on his sword and chest plate, the sixth sense must have been trained in the elf the same way a child learns mathematics. Looking at Eaves, the elf could see numbers were not adding up.

“Your business,” the elf demanded with all the affluence of the high bloods speaking to dust that had ended up on their robes. The tone always made Eaves bristle, but tonight was not the time to indulge in mockery and most likely a scuffle with an empowered beanpole. Granted, Eaves was nearly the same impressive height but his time around the short humans had created a familiar vision of society he was hard pressed to replace with lanky, graceful snobs with familiar wildness in their eyes.

Honesty was Eaves’s nature, but annoyance and the sing of fire in his veins made him abrupt. “I have no business here. I am passing through.”

Cracking his long, dark braid forward, the elf glowered, piercing eyes accessing, judging. “None pass through Aurian, mortal. It is the forest’s choice whether to give you passage and tonight she is intent on celebration. You’ve chosen a poor time for travel. I suggest you return the way you came and wait it out like the rest of your kind.”

Eaves did not step back at the prodding of the elf, the tall creature’s mouth hardening at the realization that his intimidation had fallen short. The human traveler seemed more a wild jackal than a man, dressed in black with shoulder length dark curls unruly and windswept and a week's worth of stubble rough on his jaw. He was built human, wide shoulders and thick thighs lacking the compact grace of the elves, even for such a tall stature, but there was something wrong about him. Something that made the elf consider the ease of which it would be to just slew the man before him now. The human's eyes were light as sky, nearly winter's color, and not belonging in any mortal's face.

“Why have you come here tonight? Your dress is not worthy of our festival,” the elf said, taking in the mud stained traveling cloak, frayed boots, and unruly hair the man wore. “Or is it your intent to steal from the Autumn Prince when he will be preoccupied with merriment and ceremony? I am of his guard and will rightfully kill you now, if warranted.”

Eaves considered himself a cautious person, keeping his head down and mouth shut when needed. Elves were dangerous, and the one before him guarded a prince, making him deadly. Of course, the guard could have just run him through on principle alone, so in that regard, Eaves found him to be at the very least patient. Eaves would show similar restraint, even with the wind whirling his blood into a frenzy of wild energy.

Looking the guard in the eye, Eaves tried again. “I am passing through to Warden's Path. Nothing more. I have no interest in your autumn festivals, only to be on my way. My sister has fallen ill and needs my assistance.”

Leaves rattled under the elf’s soft shoes, too slow to blow free from the swift predator. And predator he was for Eaves recognized his ilk deep within the gaze that was currently trying to deduce his motives. Elves were not all flowers and gentleness. The Autumn Guard especially were known for their wild ruthlessness, matched only by the frozen mercy of the Winter Blade. Eaves birth had fallen on the cusp of the two destructive seasons, autumn full of fire and passion, and winter an all encompassing eternity of cruelty. If Eaves had been of the elves, he would have been cast into the ether with the other wild entities that had no symbol to identify them, too raw for the complexities that life called for. Elves were not beings to be trifled with.

Eaves knew the elf noticed something in him but not what. Hopefully it would remain that way. He had never faced the Autumn Guard but he suspected that they would be the ones to kill him if he was recognized for what he truly was.

“You carry no medicine,” the elf finally pointed out, not exactly happy to allow the man passage. The festival always drew the worst of trouble as it was, and he did not like the idea of stray humans mucking up their elaborate ceremonies.

Eaves saw that he was winning and pushed his voice into something nearly warm. “I’m afraid I have little skill in healing. My brother-in-law has requested me because there is none other with the time to look after the children while he’s away gathering the last harvest. Time is essential, as I’m sure you understand. Winter is fast coming and the crops will be ruined if he cannot get to them.”

Somehow the circumstances only aroused more suspicion from the guard. “What sort of man are you, being called to care for children? Your wife should be at your side. Or are all your women prone to sickness? If that is the case, you should be with her, and not risking your life on such a night.”

“I am the sort of man that has no wife, nor wish for one,” Eaves snapped, raising his chin defiantly while internally cursing his temper. He was not himself tonight, tongue included. The elf met his glare, understanding flashing over his face before quickly disappearing within his emotionless expression. Eaves didn't know, nor did he care to know, what elves thought of men laying with men. It was taboo enough among humans outside of his village, and he should have just kept his mouth shut.

“My sister is not prone to illness,” Eaves continued, hoping to change the subject to something less likely to get him slayed. “She is a hearty woman with a strong mind. Her family depends on her and I love her dearly. Nannying and weatherproofing their estate is hardly a lot to ask, even with the three days journey on foot. A journey I would like to continue,” he added tightly.

Eying him head to toe again, the elf responded, not in any way Eaves had expected. “I know a woman… a human. She is very delicate compared to my kind, and quick to dismiss my concerns.”

Realizing the elf was looking for some sort of assurance of his lady love, Eaves offered it reluctantly. He knew firsthand the tragedies that came from elves mating with humans, and had no interest in encouraging such a union. “We are a varied species. My sister looks nearly as fragile as a spring bloom, but she is still resilient and stubbornly willful.”

The bright moonlight revealed a softening of the elf’s features, although not completely lax. His guard was always up, which was why he was in the profession he was. “This is good. My love has been very quiet lately, the winter coming quickly. I fear her neighbors have been giving her grief for knowing me.”

Happy that the elf had finally lowered the hand that held his sword, Eaves was blunt. “I have heard of the results of such unions, usually with the woman cast out from her home and village, exiled out of fear and ignorance. Further East they will kill any woman known to have lain with an elf. Any resulting child does not last long.”

“Yes, I have heard of this too.” The elf worried his lip, his eyes darkening as shadows danced across his fierce features. “I want to ask her to join me and my people. She wishes for a child but my people frown on such an entity. I fear she will choose against it.”

Eaves almost asked if the elf would destroy any child he sired, human or not, but kept himself in check. “Get her a dog,” he said flatly, stepping smoothly around the tall intrusion. He had no head for conversation tonight, worry and the energy in the air making him want to move, and roar, and nothing more. The line of conversation was too personal and dangerous to indulge in anyways.

“A small beast to care for… That may work.” Eyes focusing, the guard found the man had gone. He whirled, a grimace on his face. “Hold! We have yet to decide the conditions of your travel.”

Sighing, Eaves paused and turned back. “What conditions would those be, good elf?” He asked with frustration clear in his voice.

“You are not to leave the main road or socialize with any of those attending the festivals, unless they have sought you out specifically.”

Eaves fought down a snort. As if he’d want to socialize with any of them! “Anything else?”

“Yes.” The elf’s eyes narrowed at the tone of disrespect. “I am called Gilroy. If you run across another of my crest, inform them that I have allowed you passage. If you run across any that are of a crest, but not of the Autumn Guard, I suggest you continue to run, for your life will certainly be forfeit.”

Taking a long assessing look at the brown haired, gray-eyed fae who looked to quietly manifest the madness singing in his own body, Eaves internally shivered at the implications. Elves battling for territory was not a place anyone wanted to be found in, especially when the battle would be with the oncoming Winter Blade. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He bowed briefly to the elf and turned on his heel, making his way down the path before another could try and stop him.

“Stay to the left fork, mortal,” the elf called as Eaves disappeared into the darkness.

Gilroy stared long into the dark, listening for sounds that did not come. The mortal was more a specter than a man, but he had not discerned any ill will. His instincts warned of the odd appearance of a human traveling alone on this of all nights with no weapon or power to protect him that could be seen. Only a fool would be so blithe, and the brief conversation had led Gilroy to believe the man was hardly dim witted. He hoped he would not find himself regretting his decision to let the stranger pass.

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