Hey folks!
As an author, it’s awesome to have an idea that grows and evolves into a full story. Y’know, with a beginning, middle, and end. Even if it’s not in that order. But there’s also a little problem with it.
Ideas are great. But being in the middle of fleshing one out and then having another start screaming in your brain? Not so great.
Now, I’m definitely not suggesting that I want to have fewer ideas because absolutely no way, nuh-ah, nope. I want ALL the ideas, ALL the time. I love ideas. I love plot bunnies that hop around out of nowhere. The problem comes when you’ve already started about a hundred stories and then a new idea pops into your mind and is so loud and won’t stop jumping up and down waving its arms frantically and you just. can’t. ignore. it.
Now you have one hundred weeping works in progress, begging to be worked on, while you start paying attention to this newbie who hasn’t even earned its place yet.
This is why I have about five hundred started stories–some rather long, others not so much more than a page or two–and I still start new ones. But I just can’t help it. Most authors will agree that you have to write what’s speaking loudest to you at any given moment. Otherwise, you end up forcing it, and you stop having fun with it. And writing is supposed to be, first and foremost, fun.
So I’m gonna share a small sample of one of those WIPs.
This one in particular (working title: Someday, Maybe), is a fantasy featuring faeries (not the Disney fey, but old fey lore).
Devlin, the Summer prince, and his lover, Wren, a banished Winter faerie and former concubine of the Shadow prince, are causing quite a stir with their rather unconventional relationship. Needless to say, Devlin’s parents aren’t exactly thrilled about their son and heir’s choice of lovers. Devlin is determined to prove that his love for Wren is not only genuine but completely deserved as well. But at the Summer Equinox, where Devlin plans on finally introducing the love of his life to his parents, Wren accidentally sets the night into chaos. And when someone from his past returns, it might be much too late to get the happily-ever-after both he and Devlin desperately want together.
Sample:
“The Court will survive without me,” Devlin said. “So will my parents.”
“Are you suggesting I cannot survive without you?”
Devlin chuckled and wrapped Wren up in his arms. “You are more than capable of surviving without me.”
“I don’t particularly want to do it, you should know. Have to survive without you, I mean.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
A snort. Then, “I meant in the abstract way of forever,” Wren said and thumped his fist against Devlin’s chest, almost hard but not quite reaching hard enough to be painful. “Not one night. Besides.” He sniffed. “I’m not required to stay here alone. I have the option of attending one of the smaller festivals on this side of the Veil.”
Devlin considered this. Nodded. Said, “If you’d prefer to go there, I can go with you.”
Head rolling back with a long, exasperated groan, Wren toppled off Devlin’s lap and onto the mattress, landing with his arms spread to the sides and legs dangling off the bed. His gaze dragged down from the ceiling and onto Devlin, settling into a tiny glare.
“Are you trying to be difficult or are you simply trying to irritate me?”
Devlin scoffed, shifting positions to hover over Wren, with their brows just shy of touching.
“I’m neither being difficult nor trying to irritate you. I’m simply providing you with options.”
“I’m aware of my–”
“Options that are agreeable to me as well.”
The glare Wren fixed on him smoothed out to something a little more pensive. Eyes flicking back and forth but never breaking contact with Devlin, his lips parted more than once without a word coming out. Until a tiny grin teased the corners of his mouth and he sighed, skimming chilly fingertips along Devlin’s cheek.
“How about a kiss?” he whispered. “Is that an option?”
Devlin smiled, said, “Always,” and dove in to give Wren his kiss, their skin hissing with the intense contact and contrast between temperatures until it settled between them, a sensation Devlin would never tire of.
Lips locked and parted just enough to allow Devlin to claim his mouth, Wren tasted of mint and freshly fallen snow and a cold winter’s breeze. All crisp and fresh, and Devlin, with a rush of sudden need to taste more of him, all of him, delved deeper. Licked inside Wren’s mouth. Rolled his tongue with his own and licked the flavor off his teeth. One hand curled tightly in Wren’s hair, Devlin used the other to undo the clasps at the collar of his tunic, exposing the soft, sensitive columns of Wren’s throat, and licked, sucked, kissed, nibbled until Wren quivered and whimpered beneath him. He tilted his head back, exposing and asking for more, trusting Devlin to give pleasure and not pain. His hips bucked, his arousal evident by the tenting in his tight breeches. All from some kissing and touching.
The desire pooling between Devlin’s legs grabbed his attention as well, but all he could focus on were the soft, broken, needy sounds Wren made.
Fuck, Devlin wanted him right here, right now.
He wanted to empty him out and fill him back up. Break him apart and put him back together again. He wanted to wring every ounce of pleasure out of him until Wren could no longer stand it and still screamed for more.
Devlin would have, too, if not for the warm light that appeared from the other room and the voice that followed its appearance.
“Pardon the interruption, Your Highness,” they said, monotone and flat as usual, “I’ve come to escort you and your…companion to the Veil.”
Both Devlin and Wren, still lip to lip, huffed their frustration. To be fair, they had only themselves to blame. They knew Devlin’s bodyguard, Gabriel, would be arriving soon, and poor Gabriel had already had the misfortune of stumbling in on them during their many sex-capades, not to mention the string of passionate affairs Devlin went through for years before even meeting Wren. Given how stoic and indifferent Gabriel often acted, though, Devlin had to wonder if they even batted an eye at his sex life anymore.
“His name is Wren, Gabriel,” Devlin said, lifting no more than an inch away from Wren. “And we’re coming–”
“We aren’t, actually,” Wren muttered. “Unless you’ve misunderstood the problem.”
Mouth still stuck trying to form whatever he’d wanted to say next, Devlin tried to smother an eruption of laughter by burying his face between Wren’s neck and shoulder. No doubt Gabriel heard. Wren hadn’t exactly kept his voice down, and Devlin didn’t have it in him to scold him for it. Not when it made him laugh this hard.
“You are so bad,” he said through all that laughter.
“Have you finally drawn that conclusion for yourself?” Wren asked lightly. “Are you ready to admit that I’ve been right all along?”
“I’ve always known how bad you are,” Devlin, mouth against Wren’s throat, replied. “My definition just happens to be different than yours.”
“So you’ve mentioned. I suppose we should get a move on. You don’t want your companion to make you late.”
The way Wren delivered that, with a sharp tongue and hard edge, made Devlin’s heart twist. He lifted away from where he had his face hidden and looked down at Wren.
Companion.
Such an informal label. So easy to shed and throw away when Devlin finally came to his senses and realized he wasn’t meant to be with someone like Wren. At least from his parents’ point of view. Loyalty to his king and queen was the only reason Gabriel said it. The other members of the royal guard and council used it as well, but their use of it was accompanied by their personal distaste of Wren. Even random fey from his court took to referring to Wren as Devlin’s companion.
Wren tried to act like the word didn’t bother him, but it did. Devlin could tell by the way his lips set in a rigid line and how his eyebrows lifted a fraction and the flat look in his eyes.
As much as Devlin wanted to apologize on behalf of everyone who continued to make Wren feel undeserving of his love, he knew it’d be a waste of time. Wren wasn’t looking for pity. He didn’t need it, either. But Devlin would happily reach into Wren’s heart and soul to take that pain from him and prove that his past did not define him. It was a part of him, of course, and always would be, but that did not mean it needed to be all of him. If he could, Devlin would let it all rest on his own shoulders so that Wren never had to make a face like that again.
“We should probably decide what we’re doing before leaving,” Devlin said, “don’t you think?”
“I thought we’d already decided.”
“Not an agreeable one.”
“You are impossible.”
“You say that all the time.” Devlin sat up and brought Wren with him. “What if you go to one of the festivals here? I’ll go to mine and then meet you there.”
Eyebrows drawing in, Wren looked up at him now with a pair of confused eyes. Almost with something akin to suspicion.
“What do you mean?”
“If you’re not ready, it’s fine. I can go be with the Summer Court for a little while. I don’t need to stay the entire time. My parents will be satisfied if I make an appearance and then leave.” That wasn’t entirely true, but they would have to deal with it. “I can come join you later. It’s diplomatic. How’s that? Agreeable?”
A smile fixed itself on Wren’s face, lighting up his every feature. He looked positively thrilled by Devlin’s suggestion, and this was the expression that Wren deserved to wear every day.
“Very much,” Wren said. “Yes.”
“Good. Then it’s settled.” Devlin kissed Wren’s knuckles and stood to leave, only to have Wren tug on his wrist and stop him. “What’s wrong?”
Wren got to his feet and wrapped his arms around Devlin’s waist, nuzzling his face against his chest.
“I said it was agreeable,” he said, sliding his head back so that he looked up at Devlin with his chin still against him, “not that I agreed. I know you want to keep me from hurting, Devlin. And I love you for that. But this means something to you, and I wish to be there with you.”
There’d be no talking him out of it now that he’d made up his mind. No matter what he thought of himself, Wren’s bravery and resolve never failed to amaze Devlin.
“All right,” Devlin whispered and pressed a soft kiss to Wren’s frosty lips. “If you want to leave before dawn, for any reason, you tell me. Understand?”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”
K.S. Murphy's World 