Christmas in…March???!! Friday Flash Fics by Jeff Baker for March 16, 2018.

Posted on March 16, 2018 by jeffbaker307

28951386_354126738418237_836919504846979072_n                                                                        Green Not Alone in Summertime 

By Jeff Baker

 

 

“I think it’s early,” Silvio said. “Way too early is why.”

“Of course it’s early,” Mitchell said. “But I didn’t want to wait until July or August this year.

“March is way too early to take Christmas card pictures,” Silvio said.

“Says the man who ordered his nephew’s Christmas present last week,” Mitchell said.

“This way we have it out of the way early,” Silvio said. “Besides, I found it in the storeroom this morning. I had to move it out of the way, so no sense letting it go to waste.”

“Hey, you’re not thinking of wearing those shorts are you?” Mitchell asked.

“You mean that underwear with Santa on it?” Silvio said. “Sure. If I lose a bunch of pounds and go to the gym ‘till I look like some buff gym bunny.”

They both laughed.

“Jeans and sweaters?” Silvio asked? “Not Christmas sweaters.”

“Deal.” Mitchell said. “Just make sure the sweaters don’t clash with the tree.”

“Now that sounds gay,” Silvio said. “Besides, the ornaments don’t come off this tree. It came that way, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mitchell said. “I’m almost tempted to do something like in that book you got me last year. You know, where the guy was on his own and got a different ornament for his tree every year, to sort of symbolize the year.”

“We’d have to get another tree,” Silvio said. “And this apartment really doesn’t have room. We barely fit the couch in, remember?”

“Yeah,” Mitchell said. “And after we got it in here we collapsed on it, remember?”

“Mmmm-Hmmmm.” Silvio said, kissing him. They moved to the couch for a few minutes.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Silvio said. “Let’s pose in the buff, covered by the tree!” They laughed again.

“And we only send that card to us. Maybe get a couple of boxes with Santa or the wise men to send to everybody else.” Mitchell said.

“Deal.” Silvio said. “I feel like some egg nog now.”

“No rush, they won’t start selling it for about eight more months.”

 

—end—

 

Author’s Note: The title is from “Oh Christmas Tree.”

Posted in Christmas, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, LGBT, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

“The Men Upstairs,” by Jeff Baker for ‘Nathan Burgoine’s Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. (March 12, 2018)

Posted on March 12, 2018 by jeffbaker307

Note: The results of this month’s draw (from Hawaii, how cool is that? 🙂 ) were a romance, involving a VHS cassette, set in a fire watch tower. 

                                                        The Men Upstairs

                                                              By Jeff Baker

 

            He could see for miles, but that was the idea of building the observation tower at the top of the hill. Accessible now through a stone staircase in its base, it reminded Bailey of a cabin he’d vacationed in once. But that had been with his family when he was about six. Now, he was twenty-five and had a bottle of wine and maybe a boyfriend. He’d left a note at the motel for Preston to meet him here at sunset. The tower hadn’t been used for watching for fires in years, now it was part of the historic park service. Bailey set the bottle and the bag down; glad the place had an electrical outlet.

            Bailey heard someone behind him and turned to see Preston bounding up the steps.

            “Didn’t think I’d make it,” Preston said. Almost got lost on the path back there.”

            “Come on in and sit down,” Bailey said. “We got some snacks, and this.” He held up the wine and a couple of plastic glasses. They sat down in the wicker chairs, side by side as Bailey poured the wine and set the glasses on the small table. “Annnnd, we’ve got this.”

            Bailey got up and put the old VHS tape in the machine and the T.V. set whirred to life. He sat down and they picked up their wine glasses, tapping them together.

            “Which one’s this?” Preston asked, looking at the T.V.

            “You’ll see,” Bailey said, sipping his wine and smiling. “They didn’t have the opening credits on this one.”

            After a few moments, Preston recognized the show. “Oh, yeah, ‘The Man Upstairs.’ Syndicated, 1974-76. 32 episodes. Jake Krolac inherits a house and a restaurant and the tenant in the house’s upstairs, back room apartment turns out to be a 387-year-old alien who’s writing a book. Basically a rip-off of ‘My Favorite Martian.’ Yeah, they used to show the reruns in the afternoons when I was in junior high.”

            “Mmm-hmm.” Bailey said. He and Preston were both walking T.V. trivia encyclopedias.

            “And this is the pilot, I’m guessing. Yup!” Preston said. “Pilot.”

            “Keep watching,” Bailey said, pouring them some more wine. After a few more minutes, they were watching Jake Krolac wander into the restaurant he’d inherited and pull out his I.D. because nobody believed him.

            “I don’t remember this scene coming in this early,” Preston said.

            “It didn’t. This is the first pilot. The one they never aired.” Bailey said.

            “Yeah? I didn’t know they made another…” Preston’s voice trailed off. On the screen, Jake Krolac was in the kitchen talking to the kid washing dishes. Tall with grubby brown hair. “Wait a sec. Is that? That’s not…oh, my God!”

            “Jonathan Yowmosky, credited as John Yates,” Bailey said. “They re-cast him when they did the second pilot.”

            “My God! That’s my Mom’s uncle!” Preston said. “I mean, my Mom’s brother! My uncle! He died before I was born! He was an actor for a while, but I never knew…where did you find this?”

            “I looked around,” Bailey said with a grin. “Wasn’t easy! The video isn’t even online. Found it from a dealer. Dealer. That sounds so Mod Squad.”

            The two of them laughed. They held hands as they watched the video.

            “I watched it through once,” Bailey said. “I don’t think your Uncle has any more lines, but I think we see him in the background towards the end.”

            “Awwwww! You sweet, wonderful sentimental man,” Preston said.

            Bailey tried not to grin as they kissed.

 

 

                                                —end—

           

Posted in Fiction, LGBT, Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, Uncategorized | 5 Comments

No Dragons and Not From Mars. Monday Flash Fics for March 12, 2018 by Jeff Baker.

Posted on March 11, 2018 by jeffbaker307

055                                            Jonny Hero and the Dragon-Men From Mars                                        

                                                                       By Jeff Baker    

 

            Miss Tomoko stood by the big pole and glanced up at the menacing insect sculpted out of metal on the top. When the wind blows, the insect’s wings fluttered.

            “How many of you ever watched Jonny Hero on T.V.?” she asked her class.

            In answer, most of her grade schoolers gathered in the hillside raised their hands and said “Me,” or jumped up and down.

            “How many of you know that it started as a true story?” she asked.

            Not as many hands went up.

            “The real Jonny Hero was about nine when the dragonfly men from space showed up. They wanted to take over the world, starting with Japan. Some people called them Dragon Men, but they were like dragonflies, not dragons. But good space people showed up too, and they gave Jonny Hero a suit of space armor. And in it, he could fly and pick up cars and do all kinds of things. And right near here, he fought the dragonfly men with his space armor.”

            One of the kids raised a hand. “Did he have to ask his Mom and Dad?”

            “He may have,” Miss Tomoko said. “But he defeated the dragonfly men, who never came back. And he saved Japan, and the world.”

            The class let out a cheer. Miss Tomoko smiled.

            “And then they made the big movie and the T.V. show,” she said. “And they put this up, right here to remind everybody.”

            “Ooooooooooo!” the kids breathed in unison.

            Miss Tomoko smiled again. Hiro Kakunaka had been these kids age when he’d used the space armor. A grade-schooler was the same size as the aliens, the “Space Council” in the movie, who gave it to him. But then he grew too big to wear it, so the aliens had taken it back. They had probably known. And all Jonny Hero’s adventures after the first one with the dragonfly had been made up for the T.V. show. Kakunaka ran his own computer firm in Tokyo and he didn’t give interviews about what had happened nearly fifty years ago. And reruns of the T.V. show had never been off the air.

            Miss Tomoko glanced up at the dragonfly on the pole, tried to imagine what it had been like when hundreds of them had filled the sky. She reminded the kids it was almost lunch time. They cheered and started down the hill. She smiled. The kids were singing part of the closing theme to the Jonny Hero T.V show. The American version she showed them to help them learn English.

            “If you’re brave and if you’re true

            You can be Jonny Hero too…”

 

                                                       —end—

 

                        —–for the staff, nurses and physicians at the St. Louis Children’s Hospital, circa 1969, where I watched Giant Robot and Ultraman.

 

 

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A Stop at the Neighborhood Café for Friday Flash Fics, March 9, 2018, by Jeff Baker

Posted on March 9, 2018 by jeffbaker307

28379403_351400385357539_8513441095323786782_n

                                    Don’t Forget to Tip Your Waitstaff

                                                     By Jeff Bake

           “Over there,” T.J. said. “Tank top. Backpack. Shoulders.”

            “Mmmm! I see!” Ronny mused quietly with a grin, glad they were back to their old game of checking out cute guys, even though they only had eyes for each other. And that they were at their usual table at the café.

In the weeks since the café had re-opened, they had become semi-regulars again. They were amazed the place was still there after about seven months of largely no power and sporadic plumbing in town. It was a return to something like normal, T.J. had said the first time he’d left a tip. Amazed again that the bank had opened again and grateful they had a generator at the house the last few months, they made it a point to go to the café a couple of times a week, even though the coffee was nothing to write home about. It was just the atmosphere. It was reassuring. They had actually heard a radio broadcast the other day; the country was recovering and there were a lot of small cities and towns like this that had been self-sufficient. But the big cities were gone.

Like someone had predicted, there had been no winners.

T.J. grinned and sipped his coffee. “So, if I wasn’t around, would you ask him out?”

“Too young!” Ronny said. “Besides, I’d be holding out for perfection. You!”

“Awwww!” T.J. said with a smile.

Over at the table by the window, the man in the tank top ordered a cup of coffee and opened up his backpack. Out popped the cutest furry face Ronny and T.J. had seen. It sniffed the air and let out a happy “yip!” The man grinned again and pulled something out of his pocket and held it up to the dog, who sniffed it and gobbled it up. The dog then happily licked the man’s face.

“Hi,” T.J. said. “I’m T.J., this is Ronny. Excuse us for staring, but we haven’t seen a dog in a while.”

“I’m Marc,” the man said. “This little thing is Greta.” As he said that, the dog started licking his ear and he laughed. “Sometimes they save some scraps for her from the kitchen. She likes those, don’t you girl?” Greta seemed to understand and gave out with another bark.

“We had a dog like that when I was a kid,” Ronny said. “Seems like a long time ago.”

“Yeah, how long has it been since either of us have seen a dog?” T.J. said, sipping his coffee. “People used to walk their dogs in the park all the time. I haven’t seen that since before the war.”

“Lot of things changed,” Ronny said.

“Yeah, Marc said. “I was going to College in Wichita…”

“Yow!” T.J. said.

“I know,” Marc said. “I mean, we were out of town when it all…went down, you know? So, we hit the road, me and Greta. Been here for a few weeks.”

“We’ve lived here about three years,” Ronnie said. “Been doing odd jobs, what have you for the last few months. Trying to keep it as normal as we can.”

“Yeah,” T.J. said. “I’m just glad I have him.”

“Greta’s been my only real family for a while,” Marc said, feeding her a scrap from the small plate the waitress had brought over. “We’re going to be heading out as soon as it gets warmer. See what’s out there.”

“Well, hey, good luck to you both,” T.J. said.

“Thanks, you too.” Marc said, wiping Greta’s face with a napkin.

“See you around,” Ronny said.

Ronny and T.J. finished their coffee and walked home in the afternoon sun. Ronnie reached over and grabbed T.J.’s hand and he smiled. Their minds were on the dog and how nice it had been to see something so normal for a change.

 

                                               —end—

 

Posted in Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, LGBT, Science Fiction, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

A Bedtime Story for Monday Flash Fics, March 5, 2018, by Jeff Baker

Posted on March 4, 2018 by jeffbaker307

28276961_10156074625254787_8095816509987927572_n                                                                                     Avario

By Jeff Baker

 

“Story! Story!” Kiaro said. She was four and it was past her bedtime, even though she was in bed she seemed wide awake.

“All right,” said Oramo, her mother. “Long ago there was a little boy…”

“Little girl! Little girl!” Kiaro said.

“All right, a little  girl,” Oramo said. “And she and her family lived on an island in the middle of the sea. Her name was Avario,” Oramo said.

“Ooooooo!” Kiaro said. Oramo went on.

One day she was sitting by the sea and she heard the voice of the Ocean. It told her that she would know she was grown when she found the third iguana. Now there were lizards all over the island, eating flies and beetles, but the only iguanas she had ever seen lived near the ocean, on the rocky shore. She went looking and found only two.

So she would look every morning before she went to school and still only counted the two iguanas. And after school she would look for the third iguana and only find the one. And she would sit on the big rock and stare out at the sea. And the voice of the sea would sing to her saying that when one learned the ways of the land, what is hidden would be revealed. And yet every day she saw only the two iguanas.

And then one day, after a good deal of time had passed, Avario realized; the rock she was sitting on was the third iguana. It crawled back to its spot on the beach every morning, sat there all day and went hunting for the large night-dwelling bugs that hid during the day.

“And when Avario realized this,” Oramo said softly, “she understood how much time had passed and that she was now grown.”

Kiaro was silently asleep. Oramo pulled the cover over her shoulders and kissed her daughter silently on the forehead. She crept out of the room and shut the door.

In the bed, little Kiaro curled up in her sleep, dreaming that she was an iguana.

 

—end—

 

 

 

 

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Table Talk for Friday Flash Fics by Jeff Baker (for March 2, 2018)

Posted on March 1, 2018 by jeffbaker307

28377882_347743419056569_838276115672793006_n                                                                                      Let’s Do Lunch

                                            by Jeff Baker

                       “You’ve got to love the ambience,” Alec said.

            “Yeah, fine dining furnished in early Leavenworth,” Bud said. “What was this, a fallout shelter?”

            “Nope. It was part of some kind of aquarium at one time,” Alec said. “I’ve seen pictures. This room had a tank and some large fish, maybe salmon.”

            “Then we should have ordered fish,” Bud said grinning. “Seriously, look at this place. Glass walls, underground surrounded by concrete walls. It has prison fish tank written all over it. I keep expecting to see an angelfish swim by.”

            “You’d think with all that I could get a glass of water before lunch.” Alec said. “Hey, how long have we been doing this, anyway?”

            “Waiting on lunch, about ten minutes,” Bud said. “This isn’t fast food.”

            “No, I mean, the lunch thing? You and me?” Alec mused. “I figure, let’s see, since 1978, about fifty three years now.”

            “Whose turn is it to pay?” Bud said grinning.

            “Not sure. I don’t think we ever kept track.” Alec said.

            “Remember when we set this up as a date?” Bud said.

            “About six years ago,” Alec said. “We were both, well, widowed and we wanted to make lunch something more.”

            “Yeah, the last time we felt that awkward to each other was when we were about twenty,” Bud said.

            “It took us about an hour over crepes and champagne for us to start laughing!” Alec said.

            “Next month we were back to doing lunch,” Bud said.

            “Yeah, at a hot dog place!” Alec said.

            They both laughed. A few minutes later the waiter brought their water and apologized for being late. When he left, Bud and Alec toasted each other with their glasses of water.

            “To seventy.” Bud said.

            “To seventy plus, I think,” Alec said.

            “I haven’t been counting that close,” Bud said. “So, here’s to old friends.”

            They were smiling as they drank their water.

 

                                    —end—

Posted in Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, LGBT, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Appointment With an Angel on Monday Flash Fics, for February 26, 2018, by Jeff Baker.

Posted on February 25, 2018 by jeffbaker307

28166917_10156055238284787_4361940059813681003_n                                                               Though The Brightest Fell                                                                           

By Jeff Baker

“This is a strange request,” the Angel said. “I’m supposed to be taking you to paradise, not on a detour.”

“I get a last request, don’t I?” Eddie asked.

“It’s a little past that, but I suppose…” the Angel said.

“All I want is to go back,” Eddie said. To the summer I was fourteen.”

“To be young and re-live your life again? This isn’t like a movie.” The Angel said.

“No. Just a little bit of it. Something I thought about for the rest of my life.” Eddie said. “A summer afternoon when I was about sixteen. There was this, this guy…”

“Gino,” the Angel said.

Eddie wasn’t surprised an angel would know about Gino. They’d been fifteen that summer; Gino had been young, dark and gorgeous. They’d hung out at the lake. On the final day, Eddie had tried kissing Gino and Gino had shoved him away and called him a dirty faggot. Thank God he’d never told anybody. But before that, the summer had been wonderful.

“This one afternoon,” Eddie told the Angel. “It was July twentieth. I’ve thought about this one minute of that afternoon forever…”

Before Eddie could continue, everything blurred. He was in swim trunks in bright sunlight standing on a rise overlooking a lake in his fifteenth year. To one side was Gino, young, dark, wet and gorgeous. They were both laughing. Eddie only remembered that they were at the lake and he was fifteen.

“C’mon! Let’s jump!” Gino said.

“Uh, no, it’s too high,” Eddie said, suddenly remembering that this had happened before and they hadn’t jumped. He grabbed Gino’s hand and jumped off the edge, the two of them whooping as they fell into the warm, beautiful water, surrounded by bubbles. As they broke the surface, laughing and splashing towards shore, Eddie took a last glance at young, gorgeous Gino and stepped onto the bank as he felt himself drawn upwards towards eternity.

 

—end—

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The title is from Act 4, Scene 3 of Shakespeare’s Macbeth: “Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.”

 

 

 

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Roomies, for Friday Flash Fics by Jeff Baker.

Posted on February 22, 2018 by jeffbaker307

27858167_344673762696868_4872330516714195836_n                                                                          Man, About the House…

 

By Jeff Baker

 

“I’m not going back in that apartment,” Rich said. “And that’s final. It’s getting embarrassing!”

“It’s not gonna happen again, I promise,” Johnny said.

“Chris should never have fixed me up like that! I mean, Joseph is a nice guy, but I wasn’t interested.” Rich said.

“You’re straight,” Johnny said.

“Yeah, really not interested,” Rich said grinning.

“But, you know if you want to keep living there you have to keep telling people you’re gay.” Johnny said.

“I know, I know. My life is a seventies sitcom. I keep expecting the celibate landlord to show up,” Rich said.

“Unlikely.” Johnny. “Since the landlord is a corporation off in Tokyo.”

Rich and Johnny had been best friends since junior high. He’d shown up on Johnny’s doorstep three months ago after being tossed out of his old apartment by his now ex-girlfriend. At first, Rich had just crashed in their guest room, but Johnny and his roommate Chris liked having somebody to split the rent with. The only hitch was the Harvey Milk Apartments had strict rules about tenants. You had to be gay to actually live there. Most of the time it was no hassle; Rich just told people he was between relationships.

Last night, however, Chris had surprised them with a triple date. It had been too sudden for Rich to beg off. Joseph (his date) had been a nice guy and (thank God) was from out of state.

Rich had faked a headache and left the restaurant early. Right now he was sitting on a bench on the beach. Johnny had tracked him down. No big trick when the bench was about fifteen yards from the apartment building.

“I’m seriously thinking about camping out here,” Rich said. “Then finding someplace else tomorrow.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Johnny said. “You can’t bail on us! That dating thing wasn’t Chris’ fault! His boss wanted Chris to take out whatsisname. The other guys came with the package.”

“And that’s actually the closest to a date I’m probably going to have!” Rich said.

“Yeah, and the guy Chris fixed me up with smelled like he hadn’t washed in a week!”

“I couldn’t tell,” Rich said grinning, “Joseph had layered on the aftershave—I couldn’t smell anything else!” The two of them laughed for a minute.

“So, you still staying with us?” Johnny asked, putting an arm around his old buddy.

“Why not?” Rich said. “Besides, we’ll be home in time to catch all the old reruns on cable.”

—end—

I’ll thank my hubby Darryl for this one—he wondered about a gay version of a certain hit T.V. show from the late ’70’s. Hence, this tale!

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“The Switch.” Monday Flash Fics for February 19, 2018.

Posted on February 18, 2018 by jeffbaker307

27752491_10156035917654787_7599880281512251410_n                                                                                          The Switch                                                                                                                                                 By Jeff Baker                                                                                                             “You’re going through with it?” I asked.

            “Yeah. This weekend,” Paul said. “I just got word.” Paul was lounging around in his shorts in his penthouse apartment reading the paper. He’d called me over saying he had news.

            “How much is this going to cost?” I said.

            “A lot,” Paul said with a grim smile. “Don’t ask.”

            “I still don’t see why you want to trade off like this?” I said.

            “Hey, look at me,” Paul said. “I’m skinny, geeky, clumsy, and pale. Dracula got more sun than I do.”

            “And look at what happened to him,” I said. Being geeky hadn’t hurt Paul, he’d gotten rich founding his own tech company; 23rd Century Tectonics. (“Play on words,’ he’d said.) But since I’d known him he’d had this terrible self-image. Some of the girls and guys we’d gone to school with had thought he was cute, but he’d been obsessed with studying over everything else. I’d thought he was cute, but we’d just stayed friends. Now he spent a lot of time worrying about his business. No social life. When they legalized the body-transfer technology a few years ago, Paul started talking about trading with some buff, young guy. I’d thought he was kidding. Apparently, he wasn’t.

            “So, how am I going to recognize you?” I asked. “I mean, after the switch what are you going to look like?”

            “You’ll figure out in a few minutes,” Paul said. “He’s coming here.”

            “Here? Now?” I said.

            “Yeah, I figured you’d better meet,” Paul said. “We switch next Tuesday, and we sign a bunch of papers before that. I’m still me; I still keep all my stuff. But changing all our I.D. is going to be a pain.”

            I was going to say something when the door opened and the guy walked in. Just like Paul had said; young, muscular. Cute Latino guy. I guessed he was a youngish 30. Just a little shorter than Paul was. I was gawking.

            “Oh, uh, James, this is, uh…” Paul started to say.

            “Alfredo,” the young man said, grinning and extending a hand.

            “James,” I said. “Look, do you mind if I ask you something?” His smile was dazzling.

            “Why am I doing this?” Alfredo said. “I need the money. I figure it’s worth it.” He grinned again, halfheartedly I thought.

            “This is why I’m paying him for this,” Paul said. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to look like this guy?”

            “Yeah,” Alfredo said.

            “Look,” I said. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I said. “I mean, you’re giving up a lot. Both of you.”

            “I’m not giving up anything,” Paul said. “Neither of us are. We have all the legal stuff ready.”

            “We’re about the same age,” Alfredo said. “And we had our physicals.”

            “Geez, did we have our physicals!” Paul said. “Every test imaginable!”

            “You checked everything,” I said, “like, you’re both gay, right? I mean if I was switching with somebody I’d hate to find out I suddenly didn’t feel the same about my boyfriend.” (I didn’t actually have a boyfriend.)

            Alfredo and Paul nodded. Then Alfredo sighed.

            “My Mom’s sick,” Alfredo said. “Real sick. This is the only way I can afford to save her.” He looked down at his shoes. “The thing is, Mom’s the one who always told me to take pride in myself.” He looked up, determined. “So I’m doing this for her.”

            I gave Paul a look. He was staring at Alfredo. Paul took a deep breath.

            “I’m not doing it,” Paul said. “Not going through with this.”

            “What?” Alfredo said. “But I need this…”

            Paul held up a hand. “You’re getting the money I promised you. But I can’t let you trade off even part of yourself.”

            We all shook hands and Alfredo left.

            “I’m crazy,” Paul said, sitting down again.

            “No you’re not,” I said grinning. “You’re you. “

            I hoped Paul’s image of himself had improved in the last few minutes. Mine certainly had.

 

                                                 —end—        

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J. Scott Coatsworth’s new book: Lander.

Posted on February 18, 2018 by jeffbaker307

Lander-scott-author

My friend J. Scott Coatsworth’s new book “Lander,” (sequel to “Skythane”) is out, and from what I’ve read so far it’s damn good!

Book Blurb:

 

Sometimes the world needs saving twice.

 

In the sequel to the Rainbow-Award-winning Skythane, Xander and Jameson thought they’d fulfilled their destiny when they brought the worlds of Oberon and Titania back together, but their short-lived moment of triumph is over.

 

Reunification has thrown the world into chaos. A great storm ravaged Xander’s kingdom of Gaelan, leaving the winged skythane people struggling to survive. Their old enemy, Obercorp, is biding its time, waiting to strike. And to the north, a dangerous new adversary gathers strength, while an unexpected ally awaits them.

 

In the midst of it all, Xander’s ex Alix returns, and Xander and Jameson discover that their love for each other may have been drug-induced.

 

Are they truly destined for each other, or is what they feel concocted? And can they face an even greater challenge when their world needs them most?

 

The Oberon Cycle: Book Two

 

Series Blurb:

 

Xander is a skythane man whose wings have always been a liability on the lander-dominated half world of Oberon.

 

Jameson is a lander who has been sent to Oberon to find out why the supply of the psycho-amoratic drug pith has dropped off.

 

What neither knows is that they have a shared destiny that will change the two of them – and all of Oberon – forever.

 

500 Word Excerpt (Non Exclusive):

 

Jameson savored the kiss, his arms around Xander, the way they fit together just right. They were finally together, and Titania and Oberon were one again.

Erro, Quince had called this new world. Like the skythane god of the sun, the one Errian and the Erriani were named for.

For the moment, everything was right in his life, and he never wanted it to end.

A cold drop of water on his cheek brought him out of his reverie. He glanced up. Storm clouds were piled high, swiftly overtaking them. Rain began to pour out of the sky like a waterfall, and thunder echoed in the clouds as the valley went dark, sunlight smothered by the onrushing clouds. Nearby trees thrashed about in the wind, their purple leaves fluttering in distress.

“What the hell?” Xander said as the winds picked up and ruffled the feathers of his wings. He stared up at the black tempest.

“The Split!” Jameson shouted over the howling of the wind. He mimed the two halves of the world, each with their own atmosphere, suddenly being forced together in the middle. “When the Oberon half shifted, all the atmosphere it brought with it along the Split was forced up here!”

A bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, crisping it to ashes and standing Jameson’s hair on end.

“Run!” Xander shouted.

Jameson’s vision swam, and a memory slipped into his conscious mind from that other part of him—a high-ceilinged cavern that was more like a faery palace than a cave—where he’d stolen away with a lover. More than once.

His stomach heaved at the displacement, and he clenched his hands. That wasn’t me. They were someone else’s memories.

“Follow me!” he shouted at his four companions—Xander, Quince, Kadin, and Venin—and ran toward the cliffs that were rapidly fading to invisibility behind the rain. He pushed down the memory-nausea, tasting bile in the back of his mouth.

Alia was missing. He’d last seen her as they had fled the Mountain, when it had begun to collapse. Jameson looked around wildly, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Alia?” he shouted at Kadin as they ran. Thunder shook the valley.

Kadin shook his head, mouthing, “I don’t know.”

Rain swirled all around them, coming down so fast that it pooled on the ground and ran in rivulets downhill toward the lake that was now half filled with the broken remains of the Mountain.

The mud made the footing treacherous. Jameson clambered up the hill, using roots and rocks that offered a firmer surface than the naked ground. The wind tugged at his wings, threatening to flip him over. He pulled them in tightly and glanced back to be sure the others were following him through the tempest.

Jameson reached the cover of the forest, plunging under the protection of the canopy. The trees here were tall and thin with white bark trunks and broad purple leaves that were being shredded by the storm.

 

1000 Word Excerpt (Non Exclusive):

 

Xander stared at the torrent of water pouring over the cavern entrance. Somewhere out there, Quince and the others were lost in the storm.

“What happened to everyone else?” Jameson shouted, putting his hand on Xander’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. Last I saw them was before the lightning strike.” How had things changed so quickly?

Jameson started toward the exit. “We have to look for them!”

Xander pulled him back.

Jameson’s eyes were wild.

He squeezed Jameson’s hands, trying to reassure him. “Hey, calm down. There’s nothing we can do right now.”

“We already lost Morgan.” Jameson’s eyes pleaded with him. “I can’t lose the rest of them.”

Xander shook his head. “It’s no use. We’ll never find them in this tempest. They’re seasoned veterans. They can take care of themselves. We’ll go looking after the storm passes.” The loss of Morgan weighed on him too, though he was less and less certain that Morgan had been a human boy at all.

Jameson looked doubtful.

Xander felt it too, but there really was nothing they could do. “Hey, it’s gonna be all right.” He pulled Jameson to him, enfolding the two of them with his wings. Jameson was soaked, but Xander didn’t care.

Jameson nodded against his chest. “You’re right. Gods, I know you’re right. I’m sorry. I thought we were done with all this.”

Xander held him out at arm’s length. “Gods, huh? We’re doing the plural thing now?”

Jameson gave him a half smile. “Trying it out? When in Rome….”

“How’s your hearing?”

Jameson cocked his head. “It’s better. But everything sounds muffled.”

Xander nodded. “I can tell.”

Jameson blushed. “Am I talking too loud?”

“Just a little.”

Jameson smiled sheepishly. “It’s weird. It feels like my ears are full of water.”

Xander kissed him gently. “It’ll pass.” He looked around the cavern at last, his eyes gradually adjusting to the dim blue light.

The place was a faeryland, filled with rows of golden stalactites and stalagmites, like the bulwarks of an eldritch castle. Each one was a miracle of minute detail, like candle wax dripped from above. The whole cavern was lit by a turquoise-blue glow.

Xander looked around for the source. It came from pools of water on either side of the cavern. The scintillating light shimmered along the walls, creating complex, ever-changing patterns.

“Look, Jameson… it’s beautiful.” They were both a muddy mess. “We’re stuck here until the storm blows itself out. Why don’t we get cleaned up and try to rest? Then we can figure out what to do next. We have a long flight to Gaelan.” He was still shivering from the rain.

“A bath sounds like heaven.” Jameson let Xander lead him to one of the glowing ponds.

“Do you think it’s safe to go in?” Xander asked, pulling off his boots and testing the water with his toes. It was warm.

Jameson looked queasy, but then he smiled. “They called them faery ponds. There’s a microscopic organism that makes the light. It’s harmless, but beautiful.” He grinned. “Romantic, even.”

Ah, that’s how you knew this place. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he said, slowly and clearly, gesturing to indicate Jameson and the cavern. His own generational memories were still fleeting, occasional things.

Jameson’s smile fled. He shrugged. “Not me personally….”

“Shhh. I know.” If he closed his eyes and focused, he could see this place too, but he seemed to be able to block them out when they were inconvenient. “Too many memories.” Xander pointed at his head.

Jameson nodded. He looked relieved. He reached out and pulled Xander close, his hands warm on Xander’s waist.

Xander slipped his arms around Jameson and kissed him once, twice. He wrinkled his nose. “You’re filthy and you stink! So do I.” He held up his shirt as proof. It was covered in mud stains.

Jameson laughed. “We can fix that.”

He helped Jameson unlace the sides of his shirt, pulling it off to reveal the naked skin underneath. Jameson returned the favor, his hands lingering for a moment before withdrawing to pull down his own pants.

They shucked their wet and dirty clothes and descended into the water. It was surprisingly warm, silky and smooth around Xander’s waist.

The pool was about three meters across and sloped down to about a meter deep at the far end. There was a warm, gentle current drifting past Xander’s legs, and the stone beneath his feet had been worn smooth by water and time.

Xander washed the grime off his skin, and it drifted off into the water around him.

Jameson pulled him in deeper and gestured for him to lower his head.

Xander lay in Jameson’s arms, and warm water washed over him, carrying the mud and dirt out of his hair. Jameson massaged his scalp, pulling away the twigs and bits of gunk he’d accumulated on the mad run through the forest in the storm.

Xander’s desire threatened to overwhelm him at Jameson’s gentle touch. He dipped his face into the water and rinsed off. It was so fucking good to get clean.

He shook his head, splashing Jameson, who shot him an aggrieved look.

The look turned into a wicked grin, and Jameson splashed him back. Then they were going after each other and laughing, a fine mist of water flying through the air.

Damn, it’s good to hear you laugh again. Xander grabbed Jameson and kissed him, harder this time, and Jameson’s body responded. They fell back into the water, and Jameson was hard against him, his own need naked before Xander’s desire.

After all that had happened, Xander needed to feel human and alive again. He tugged Jameson back to the shallow part of the pool and pulled his skythane down on top of him, Jameson’s skin warm against his own.

He kissed Jameson’s neck and nibbled on his ear, eliciting a low moan.

Jameson wanted this as much as he did. He could tell.

For a long, slow, ecstatic hour, Xander forgot all about the storm.

 

1500 Word Excerpt (Non Exclusive):

 

Jameson kissed Xander again, his passion fading, but his ardor for the man still in full bloom. It was good to find time for the two of them in the middle of madness.

Xander was at rest, peaceful as he floated on the surface of the water, his eyes closed and his muscles slack. His black wings trailed off below into the glow of the pond. He looked more like an angel to Jameson than he had since the first time they’d met.

Images flashed in his head—this place, other people, other times. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing them to go away.

Reluctantly they subsided. Jameson stood to get out of the water, shaking his head as if to dry his hair.

Xander pulled him back down for one more kiss. “What’s the hurry? I can still hear the storm roaring outside.”

Jameson growled. “I’m hungry. Don’t you ever get your fill?” He should have told Xander about the memories. He knew Xander saw them too, sometimes, but Jameson didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Apparently not.” Xander let him go. “But I like to watch your backside, so I guess this is some kind of compensation.”

“Pervert.” Jameson smiled to himself. He was still sore from their exertions, but it was a good kind of sore.

He climbed up to the rock floor next to the pool, using one of the columns to steady himself. Something skittered across the edge of his vision. A bat? Or something like it? He looked after it, but it had vanished.

He went to pull his pants back on and wrinkled his nose. His clothes were filthy.

He opened his pack and grabbed a fresh set. He pulled on his underwear first, then laced up his shirt while Xander watched appreciatively. Getting dressed had been a hell of a lot easier before he’d gotten his wings. To compensate for his lack of skythane clothing, they’d raided the king’s closet, and it had been a challenge to find anything without a fur lining or silver buttons. King Theron had been a big man too—thick in the middle, if his clothes were any indication. Frowning, Jameson cinched his belt tight to hold up his pants.

“It suits you.” Xander smirked, getting out of the water and giving Jameson a full-on view of his beautiful body. He was muscled, but not overly so, his stomach firm and his body sleek. He was perfect.

Jameson felt a surge of love for Xander. He took full advantage of the unguarded moment, enjoying the show. Xander’s well-defined abs and his lopsided grin were almost enough to entice Jameson to give it another go, but the memories were messing with his head, and he really was hungry.

“Let’s eat.” Xander pulled out his own change of clothes and sniffed them.

“A little damp?”

“Yeah. Mildew from all the rain. Still, it’s better than the alternative.”

He grinned. It was a shame Xander needed to wear anything at all. “Um, food. Yeah. Sounds good.”

“We need to be ready to leave as soon as the storm lets up.” Xander pulled on his pants. “That means keeping up our strength. Getting fed, getting some sleep…. I want to look for Quince and the others, and my people need me back home. Things will be confused in Gaelan after the shift.”

My people. Jameson had his own people too, somewhere across the continent. “Things will be crazy in Oberon City too, I’d imagine.”

Xander nodded. As he finished dressing, Jameson took a look around the cavern. It was maybe fifty meters across, and half that deep, and there were dark shadows at several places near the back, leading off to other caves or rooms.

He wondered how far this cavern system went. His new gift—or curse?—wasn’t specific on details like that, though sometimes memories sprang wholly formed in his head.

Back home on Beta Tau, caverns could stretch on for hundreds of kilometers. The Great Rift system went on for at least three hundred and fifty, meaning it was theoretically possible to get from New Davos to Arctus without ever going aboveground.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember this place. The ability seemed to come and go randomly, but there had to be a way to summon it up at will. It had come to him when he needed it, but not of his own volition.

Again, there was a flickering, like something fluttering past in his peripheral vision. This time it slipped past on both sides. He looked around wildly, but there was nothing there. Not bats, then. He was losing his mind.

“What are you thinking about?” Xander asked. “You seem a little… distracted.”

“You didn’t see that?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” He sighed. “It’s probably just this place. I… remember it, but I don’t.”

“I know. Since that kiss, it’s been hit and miss for me too.”

Jameson nodded. That kiss. The one at the House of the Moon, when memories had flooded through him, through Xander, like a torrent. It had been the second time for him, but for Xander….

“Do you ever… see things that aren’t there?”

“Sometimes. Quick images. Like brief overlays of the past on the present.”

“Do you see them now?”

Xander looked around. “No, nothing now. You?”

“No. I….” He stopped. Something was moving at the edge of his vision. He looked around. The cavern seemed to shift, becoming brighter. There was a weird fluttering, as if a hundred dark wings were flapping just out of sight.

“Jameson, you okay?”

Everything went fuzzy for a moment, and his stomach clenched in protest. When he could see again, golden light flickered from candles placed all around the room. Where had they come from?

He turned back to Xander, but Elyra stood there instead, grinning at him, leaning forward, her breasts like two perfect moons under her vest. “You came. I’ve been waiting for hours.” She pulled him close. He could smell her musky perfume, feel her long raven-black hair brush against his cheeks as their lips met….

The world shifted again.

The cavern was dark, lit by only the smallest blue illumination from the pool, and he was all alone. The deep, keening sadness of loss cut him with a sharp physical pain. In his left hand was a bloody dagger, and his right cupped his torn intestines.

Shift.

A massive furry creature with eight arms and long teeth like a saber-toothed tiger rose up with a growl, and six eyes stared at him over its wrinkled snout. It swiped at him with a hairy paw tipped with sharp claws and he danced away….

Shift.

He was out of breath, gasping for air, and covered in sweat. He held on to one of the rock columns for support, staring over his shoulder. Surely they hadn’t followed him all the way back here.

There were shouts behind him, in the main cavern, and he took a desperate gulp of air and pushed himself onward, toward the darkness at the back of the cavern….

Shift.

He/They/We were joined, feeling a sense of peace and harmony at their union. He/They/We fed on the nutrients in the water, joined body and mind, and mused about the world outside and the events of the last few days. Each part of He/They/We shared its experiences out in the world, the others they had encountered before returning with their knowledge to enrich the whole. The time of the Great Move was coming….

Shift.

Giveaway:

 

Scott is giving away a $25 Amazon gift certificate and three copies of his queer sci fi eBook “The Stark Divide.” Use the rafflecopter code:

 

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Buy Links:

 

Dreamspinner eBook: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/lander-by-j-scott-coatsworth-9317-b

 

Dreamspinner paperback: https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/lander-by-j-scott-coatsworth-9318-b

 

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Lander-J-Scott-Coatsworth/dp/1640804773/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

 

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lander-j-scott-coatsworth/1127876852?ean=9781640804777

 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/lander-4

 

iBooks: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/lander/id1333640753?mt=11

 

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/book/lander/

 

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38088645-lander

 

Author Bio:

 

Scott lives between the here and now and the what could be. Indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine, he devoured her library. But as he grew up, he wondered where the people like him were.

 

He decided it was time to create the kinds of stories he couldn’t find at Waldenbooks. If there weren’t gay characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

 

His friends say Scott’s brain works a little differently – he sees relationships between things that others miss, and gets more done in a day than most folks manage in a week. He seeks to transform traditional sci fi, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something unexpected.

 

He runs Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark, sites that bring queer people together to promote and celebrate fiction that reflects their own reality.

 

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor/

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/jscoatsworth

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth?from_search=true

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

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