Gay – Page 13 – A. L. Lester

Interview: Change of Plans by Addison Albright

Addison Albright is visiting today to talk about her new release, please give her a warm welcome!

Thank you so much, Ally, for having me here on your wonderful blog today! (Hello Addison, thank you so much for visiting!) Hello, Ally’s lovely readers! I’ve got a new release out—my first in over a year—and I appreciate the opportunity to share a little bit about my story.

First of all, I should point out that this story completes a trilogy. I carefully inserted enough background information so that a random reader picking it up would not be completely lost, so the story can stand alone, but it is definitely not written as a standalone.

Since my new novella, Change of Plans, contains a few of my favorite tropes, I’ve written a trio of guest posts for fellow JMS Books writer-friend’s blogs, each highlighting one of those tropes. Today let’s discuss Arranged Marriage.

Hard to say why I love the Arranged Marriage trope in stories when the idea horrifies me in real life. I suppose it’s because, at least in romance stories, it’s pretty much guaranteed to work out. It’s often paired with enemies-to-lovers, which can also be fun, although I’ve yet to dabble in that trope myself.

In the Plans Trilogy, the arranged marriage between naïve young Prince Marcelo of Sheburat and Efren, the crown prince of Zioneven is only enemies-to-lovers in a very superficial way. The two of them were unacquainted before their unexpected and sudden wedding ceremony in book one. Their marriage took place only because The Contingency Plan was activated in a treaty between realms that were former enemies. So they had no personal enmity for each other.

After getting over his initial shock and accepting that his life is about to be turned upside down, Marcelo is reasonable, responsible, and hopeful of a happy future. So the story avoids the oft-seen MC running from his marriage (or even sabotaging or otherwise fighting it), and instead we have our MC working through his doubts and fears in what is ultimately a meet-cute novelette that spawned a trilogy.

Our heroes run into danger on their way to Efren’s homeland in the novella, The Best-Laid Plans, then the Arranged Marriage trope comes into play again in my new novella, Change of Plans, when the princes are dosed with a mind-wiping toxin and Marcelo must once again come to terms with the fact he’s already established in an arranged marriage that he’s forgotten, while at the same time solving the mystery of what’s behind this fresh attack as well as the drama in the earlier stories.

What are some of your favorite Arranged Marriage stories? Why do you enjoy them?

Look for my discussion on the Hurt/Comfort trope on Nell Iris’s blog back on July 17, and look for my upcoming discussion on the Memory Loss trope on Ofelia Grand’s blog on August 13.

Once upon a time, two handsome young princes fell in love, faced down adversity and lived happily ever after... until one romantic evening they unwittingly ate a confection laced with a mind-wiping toxin. Change of Plans by Addison Albright.

Excerpt

(From Chapter 8)

Marcelo, present day

Why, oh why, with all that was going on, was Marcelo finding it so difficult to focus on anything other than Efren’s fingers as he manipulated his utensils? And Efren’s mouth as he opened it to take bites then slowly chew?

Deliberately slowly chew his food, if Marcelo wasn’t mistaken.

Had Marcelo been obvious in his observations? Were Efren’s actions in response to Marcelo’s interest? Or had Efren purposely drawn Marcelo’s attention in the first place?

Or was Marcelo reading too much into Efren’s simple movements?

Marcelo swallowed a bite of his own and told himself the reason he was so distracted was because the royal family had ceased to talk about the drama going on in the castle since it was their policy not to discuss politics at the table, and there was nothing more to do other than baselessly speculate until they gained more intelligence from the people out making inquiries anyway. Attending to the everyday chitchat between Rolland, Merewina, and Tristan as they attempted to maintain a sense of normalcy didn’t take too much concentration.

Sure, that was all it was. Marcelo’s newfound obsession with another man’s hands and eating process had nothing at all to do with memory flashes of Efren’s unshaven skin rasping tantalizingly around Marcelo’s mouth when they’d kissed in the not-dream. Marcelo stilled his hand that had started toward his mouth to rub a phantom tingle and suppressed a self-depreciating snort.

“You are each enamored with the other.” Once again, Erich’s words echoed through Marcelo’s mind, and despite everyone’s assurances that Marcelo had previously conducted himself in some kind of brave, heroic manner, regret churned in his belly that he hadn’t had the courage to open his eyes during that kiss.

Or better, to have tossed caution to the wind and embraced the moment…and Efren.

But to be fair to himself, not being able to ascertain how he’d come to be in a stranger’s arms in an unknown place was what had been so terrifying, rather than the situation itself. Surely thinking one had somehow lost their mind would be spine-chilling to most.

When Merewina’s ill-disguised snicker broke his reverie, Marcelo’s fork slipped from his fingers and landed with a clink that seemed unnaturally loud.

“Really, Efren,” she said, “it’s all I can do not to break all semblance of decorum to toss a sticky bun at you.”

“Do I want to know why?” The deepening lines around Efren’s eyes answered his own question. If Marcelo was reading his husband correctly, he already knew why, yet had no objection to hearing his sister’s explanation.

Marcelo turned his gaze to Merewina.

Her eyes narrowed at her brother. “You are utterly merciless.”

Efren’s eyes widened theatrically. “Me?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You are shameless, teasing poor Marcelo like that.”

Marcelo’s face warmed. Yet a thrill coursed through his veins. He’d been right about Efren’s actions, and just as Erich had said, this handsome and powerful man was also drawn to him.

Efren’s lips quirked into a smile that curled Marcelo’s toes. “Dear sister, I assure you”—he winked at Marcelo—“I’m detecting no displeasure from my lovely young husband.”

Marcelo’s cheeks had to be flaming red, they felt so hot, but he held Efren’s gaze, and his own lips twitched into a sheepish grin.

Change of Plans

Fantasy Romance, 32,026-word (108 page) novella

Once upon a time, two handsome young princes fell in love, faced down adversity, and lived happily-ever-after … until one romantic evening, they unwittingly ate a confection laced with a mind-wiping toxin.

Crown Prince Efren of Zioneven blindsided Prince Marcelo of Sheburat when he used The Contingency Plan embedded in a peace treaty to marry the naïve young prince. Now, Marcelo is shocked again when he awakens in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar land, in the arms of a stranger who’s taking such liberties!

Will that ignominious new beginning to their relationship doom their chances at rekindling their love? Or will Efren’s giddiness and the less formal surroundings of Zioneven propel them toward a more teasingly fun rapport?

Marcelo and Efren have forgotten more than their love. On their journey home to Zioneven, their Best-Laid Plans went awry when Marcelo was abducted. Now, neither remembers the unexpected strength of character and ingenuity Marcelo manifested to survive his harrowing ordeal, or Efren’s frantic search for his new husband.

Were Marcelo and Efren specifically targeted for the Forget-Me-Not poisoning, or were they the victims of a random assault? Is this new attack related to Marcelo’s abduction and his sister’s death? Will Marcelo revert to his old mild-mannered, unassuming self, or will he step up to prove he’s the same brave man his new family claims he is amid the fresh danger swirling around them?

Buy the series! : Book 1: The Contingency Plan : Book 2: The Best-Laid Plans : Book 3: Change of Plans

About Addison

Addison Albright is a writer living in the middle of the USA. Her stories are gay romance in contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, and science fiction genres. She generally adds a subtle touch of humor, a dash of drama/angst, and a sprinkle of slice-of-life to her stories. Her education includes a BS in Education with a major in mathematics and a minor in chemistry. Addison loves spending time with her family, reading, popcorn, boating, French fries, “open window weather,” cats, math, and anything chocolate. She loves to read pretty much anything and everything, anytime and anywhere.

Website : Facebook Page : Facebook Profile : Twitter (@AddisonAlbright) : BookBub : Amazon

Guest Post: Ellie Thomas, Artistic Inspiration

Thank you so much, Ally, for having me as your guest today! I’m Ellie Thomas and I write Historical Gay Romance. In this blog, I’ll be chatting about my latest story with JMS Books, released on July 10th. It’s a Hot Flash entitled A Roll of the Dice. It can be uncanny how inspiration comes out of the blue from an unexpected source. The idea for this tale started when watching an excellent three-part tv documentary on the story of Welsh art – of all things!

I love all things eighteenth century and especially writing about that period of history. So, when the programme focused on artists of that particular time, I was completely rapt. I heard for the first time about the landscape artist Richard Wilson (1713-82), who was one of the first of his peers to popularise the landscape genre. I was not only fascinated by his story and his artwork, but it also got my imagination whirring.

In the same way, my main character Joshua has Jones as a surname in honour of the Welsh artist Thomas Jones (1742-1803). Like his namesake, Joshua studies in London under the great Richard Wilson. While writing about Joshua’s experiences, I couldn’t resist including a real-life humorous anecdote about students misbehaving in class which Thomas Jones had recorded in his diaries.

So, as I had sketched in the artistic backdrop for my story, my next task was to devise my characters. When the story started unfolding in my mind, I happened to come across an article on influential black composers and musicians in Europe in the eighteenth century, including the Chevalier de St. Georges (1745-1799) who was dubbed ‘The Black Mozart’. This inspired me to make Joshua both an aspiring artist and a man of colour.

Many artists at that time, including Richard Wilson and Thomas Jones, were drawn to London to study, exhibit and establish their names in artistic circles, so that city seemed the ideal setting. In my story, Joshua leaves his home city of Bristol in the West of England to stay with relatives in London to try to make his mark on the art world.

Towards the end of the eighteenth century, although a major city and growing fast, London was not endless urban sprawl familiar to us now, but could still be crossed on foot. This relatively short distance made me consider in which specific districts to place my characters and how to arrange their first meeting.

Since the Royal Academy of Art in London was based in Old Slaughter’s Coffee House in St. Martin’s Lane in those very early days, that got me thinking about nearby Whitehall and the St. James’ Palace area, lined with exclusive masculine gambling and drinking clubs which were a core of political power and influence at the time.

These qualities embody the character of Frank, Joshua’s love interest, who moves easily amongst influential diplomatic circles. As Joshua funds his daytime art studies by working as a waiter in a gambling club by night, this seemed an ideal meeting point for my couple. In such an intensely male, hot-house situation, I could easily imagine how a spark of mutual attraction could flare into romance.

A Roll of the Dice

Joshua Jones is in London to pursue his dream of becoming an artist. As a young black man from a modest background, he works hard to pay for his painting classes, both as a fencing master’s assistant, then as a waiter in an exclusive gaming club, which his uncle manages.

During the London Season when the club as at its busiest, the last thing Joshua expects is to find romance. But when mesmerising older man, Frank Bartlett, is determined to seduce him, how can he resist? Joshua now finds he has another problem. How can he stop himself falling for the object of his desire?

Buy A Roll of the Dice

Read an Extract from A Roll of the Dice

As they sat by the fireplace, Joshua looked around him with interest, noting the shelves of books and the writing desk piled high with correspondence. Pouring them both a glass of wine, Frank sat back and smiled at Joshua’s observation.

“Does my home meet with your approval?” Frank asked.

Joshua grinned. “I was expecting more of a palace,” he replied, which make Frank laugh, revealing that strong column of his throat that made Joshua catch his breath.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Frank said, smiling.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I was disappointed,” Joshua said with a tinge of flirtation, knowing he was playing with fire. Frank glanced at him with a knowing flickering glimmer that set Joshua’s pulses racing. He was achingly aware that the consideration and snatched conversations of previous evenings would escalate in this intimate setting.

“If you are in the mood,” Frank said silkily, reaching for a pack of cards and moving a nearby side table between them, “I thought we might play a game.”

Joshua almost blurted out that he did not gamble, when he suddenly realised that the stakes were far riskier, or rather risqué, than money. “Pick a card,” Frank invited him. Breathlessly, Joshua did so and putting it down on the table, he saw he had selected the Ten of Hearts. Frank followed suit, placing down the Two of Spades. “I lose,” he said, smiling as he shrugged off his coat.

Joshua’s eyes widened. “I think I like this game,” he said, picking the next card. As it was his turn to select a lower card, he chose to remove his neckcloth as slowly as possible, his adversary glued to his every movement. Then Frank lost his waistcoat, his large body visible under his linen shirt which made Joshua’s mouth go dry. He gulped his wine before picking the next card. They chose an equal number and in accord, both removed their shirts. Joshua could not take his eyes from that massive chest and brawny torso and Frank seemed equally breathless at the sight of Joshua’s lithe and sinewy brown body.

“Perhaps we should take this into the bedroom?” Frank suggested, rising and holding out his hand. Joshua followed willingly and as soon as the bedroom door was shut behind them, they were in each other’s arms.

Buy A Roll of the Dice

Meet Ellie

Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

Website : Facebook

#AmReading

This week, sapphic time-travel with One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston and two well-know gay romances that I’ve been listening to in audio, For Real by Alexis Hall and the Adrien English series by Josh Lanyon.

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

This is by the author of Red, White and Royal Blue, which I haven’t read and am now going to! It’s a sapphic time-travel found-family story set in New York in the present. The main character is August, who is twenty-three and searching for a place to fit. She has had enough of her mother, who is obsessed with finding her older brother who disappeared in the 1970s and has moved to start a new life. The other main character is Jane, who August keeps meetings on the subway. To begin with, Jane can’t remember being anywhere else. It’s clever and funny and heart-warming and I loved it.

It’s got a really good range of secondary characters which includes great trans rep.

For Real by Alexis Hall (audio)

This is one of my favourite books on the page and I recently bought the audio. I seem to be on a roll with books about belonging this week. Although it’s about a BDSM relationship, it’s not about sex. Sure, there’s loads of sex in it, but it’s the feelings and the dynamic between the characters and their need to find somewhere to fit that keeps me coming back. Laurie is forty-ish an ER doctor, jaded, sad. Toby is nineteen, lost, not quite sure what he’s looking for in life but knowing he wants someone to submit to him. They’re both clever overthinkers. They fit together and the story is about how they both come to see that.

It’s a dual-narration audio and the characterisation is perfect, particularly Toby, who is just…enchanting.

Adrien English series by Josh Lanyon (audio)

Another old favourite here. Snarky bookseller/writer/amateur detective falls for closeted cop in Pasadena, California. Five books of well-narrated mystery-cum-love story ensue. It’s such a well done series and there’s nothing I can say about it that hasn’t already been said. Fatal Shadows was first published in 2001 by Gay Men’s Press, and it’s now a bit of a blast from the past—pre smart-phone, which is the main thing that stood out to me when listening last week! It’s not dated at all, I emphasise; but it was interesting to listen and remember how things were such a short time ago.

The audio is new to me and is definitely worth a listen.

That’s the lot!

Ofelia Grand: Remember Us

Let’s welcome Ofelia Grand today! She’s talking about her re-release, Remember Us. It’s a story about older characters and memory loss and I love it, although Ofelia doesn’t like the first-person POV very much!

Hello, everyone! Thank you, Ally, for letting me drop by today. At the beginning of this month, one of my short stories, Remember Us, was re-released through JMS Books. I love that story.

I write under two names, Holly Day is my alter ego, and by now I’ve written a few stories. Most of them are short, so the backlist isn’t quite as impressive as it looks at a first glance, but by now I’m pretty secure in my writing style. I write third person, past tense, dual point of view unless it’s a really short story, then I might only do one character’s point of view.

What I don’t do is first person. I never buy a book where the blurb is written in first person. If I’ve bought a book, and you should know I never do my research – never read the entire blurb, never read excerpts etc. I might glance at a few reviews (and then I browse for the bad ones, so in my case, a two-star review often is what sells the book LOL). But if I’ve bought a book, and it turns out to be written in first person, I might read it if it doesn’t annoy me in the first pages. If the first thing I read under the chapter heading is a name, we’re done, though. First person, dual POV, not going there.

After having trashed first person, I feel I need to explain a little. They say you should write in first person because it brings the character closer to the reader, makes it easier for them to connect, to feel with the character. And I think I’m malfunctioning because for me it does the exact opposite. When a story is written in third person, I can forgive stupidness. I can chuckle at how foolish the character is. If it’s written in first person, and I read an ‘I threw myself at the snarling beast instead of staying safely hidden’ I just get annoyed because I *knocks on chest* never would. It’s even worse when we get to steamy or emotional parts. If it says I, the I damn better act like I would, and the Is never do LOL

Why do I ramble on about this, you wonder. Well… Remember Us is written in first person.

Yes, I’m as stunned as you are.

And I still like it. I don’t know why. I think it might be because it’s more of an emotional journey than a physical one. There are no snarling beasts, no awkward flirting or sweaty sex scenes where I lose connection with the character due to unfortunate reactions or actions LOL. It’s not even a romance story, it’s an established-couple-at-the-final-stretch-of-their-lives story.

Charles and William have been together for over forty years. All Charlie wants is to spend the rest of his time with William, but William’s memory is failing him, and Charlie is unable to look after him.

"It sucks, getting old, doesn't it?" William looked straight at me. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I never meant to become old."
I placed my hand on top of his, hating the way my voice threatened to break. "We fought it for as long as we could."
"We did, and now look at us"
Remember Us by Ofelia Grand.

Excerpt from Remember Us

The door to the nursing home opened, and I almost ran into one of the nurses.

“Oh, there you are, Charlie.” Relief flooded her eyes as the heron woke in my chest.

“What happened?” If she was coming to get me, something must’ve happened to William.

“Nothing, everything is fine now. I just got a little worried when I couldn’t find you.” She smiled and held the door open for me.

I nodded. Was I late? I glanced at the clock—about the same time as always. Of course, she wouldn’t find me if I hadn’t arrived yet. “Is William all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine, just fine.” She smiled and started to walk back to the front desk. I hurried through the foyer towards the corridor leading to William’s room, wanting to make sure nothing had happened to him.

Sucking in a breath, I knocked on his door. The nurse had given me a scare, and my heart didn’t want to slow down.

“Who are you?” William glared at me when I opened the door, and I slowly let the air out of my lungs.

“I’m Charles.”

His eyes narrowed as he got out of the armchair. “Charles?”

“Yes, Charles.” I searched his eyes for recognition, but it wasn’t there. I should stop hoping, but now and then, there was a flicker of awareness, a few minutes of presence. It was those moments I lived for—the short seconds when we were ‘we’ again.

“Charles, huh?” He studied me. The ticks of the old wall clock that used to hang in our kitchen were far slower than my heartbeats, and the heron trapped in my chest tried to turn.

William’s lips narrowed; fear grew stronger and stronger in his eyes. “Charlie?” The whisper broke my heart.

“Yes.”

“Babe, what happened to you?” He reached out but stopped short of touching me. “There has to be something we can do. Is it an illness? Or…” He rubbed his forehead. “Were you exposed to radiation or something?” Panic took hold of him as the heron crushed my insides.

“No, no radiation or illness. I grew old.”

“But how? You were fine this morning.”

This morning? How I wished I could tell which morning he was in—I’d have given everything I had to be there with him. “What did we do this morning?”

“You don’t remember?” His eyes widened, and I feared I’d only made the situation worse by asking.

“We had coffee.”

“Of course, we had coffee! What else do you remember?”

Yes, of course, we had coffee. What else could we have done? I searched his face for a clue. He wasn’t giving much away. “We ate breakfast.”

“I did! You didn’t. You were too busy trying to get that freaking cat down from the tree. That’s it, isn’t it? It had some disease, and now you’re ill.”

Cat? I winced. There was only one cat I’d ever rescued from a tree, and it had been a long, long time ago—before we were married, before we had Ann, before we lived together. “No, it wasn’t the cat.”

I glanced at the clock. I needed him to start thinking about something else. “Want to go grab some coffee?”

“We just had coffee! I’m taking you to the hospital. Now.” He started towards the door, throwing a confused look around the room as he went. “I need to pee, real quick, and then we’ll go.”

I sank down on his bed as he slipped into the bathroom. My hands were shaking. I didn’t want him to get angry, but there was no way we could go anywhere. We could go to the cafeteria and David—no, Daniel was his name—had said we could sit on the balcony if we wanted. I hoped Daniel was here today. The few times William got angry enough to get violent I always feared for the young women trying to soothe him.

I startled as the door banged against the wall. William hurried out of the bathroom. “There’s an alien in the mirror.”

“What?” Oh, no…

“In the mirror. I always knew there was something strange with this place.”

“I don’t think there is an alien in the mirror.” I could see William getting ready to argue and took a deep breath. “It was probably only the light or something.”

“You’re in on it.” He poked a finger in my chest. “I knew it! You’re not my Charlie. Of course, you aren’t. My Charlie isn’t old, and he would never lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yoda is living in the bathroom mirror, and you’re saying there aren’t aliens here.”

Yoda? I looked at William. He didn’t look anything like Yoda…or maybe a little, but didn’t we all these days? “How about that coffee?”

William curled his hands into fists. “You aren’t listening to me. We need to get out of here. They have us under surveillance. Yoda is living in my bathroom!”

My bathroom. The heron picked at my intestines. He had never named anything in this room his. It was silly how a little word could hurt more than him thinking I was a stranger.

“Okay, let’s get out of here.” I hoped he’d forget about the aliens before we got anywhere near the door.

“We need to be sneaky about it. I’ve tried to leave before, but they never let me.”

“Yes, sneaky.” I bit my cheek. “Maybe we should go to the cafeteria and have a cup of coffee.” William started to object, but I cut him off. “Then on the way back, we’ll slip out.” Fingers crossed he wouldn’t remember when we got there.

“Smart. My Charlie would have suggested the same thing.”

Buy Remember Us: JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

Remember Us

Charlie Wilkins had everything he wanted—a husband, a daughter, a house that was his home. He still has his husband, but William has forgotten who he is. He still has his daughter, but the roles have switched, and Ann is now the one taking care of them.

There is only one thing Charlie wants, and that is to spend the rest of his days with William by his side. But William is living in a nursing home, and Charlie is living … somewhere. Ann says she will fix it; she’ll make sure they’ll get to live together again. Charlie hopes she will before William either escapes or figures out Charlie has left him in someone else’s care.

He promised William they’d stay together till death did them part, and he meant it, but what was he to do when he no longer could take care of William?

Buy Remember Us: JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

About Ofelia

Ofelia Gränd is Swedish, which often shines through in her stories. She likes to write about everyday people ending up in not-so-everyday situations, and hopefully also getting out of them. She writes romance, contemporary, paranormal, Sci-Fi and whatever else catches her fancy.

Her books are written for readers who want to take a break from their everyday life for an hour or two.

When Ofelia manages to tear herself from the screen and sneak away from her husband and children, she likes to take walks in the woods…if she’s lucky she finds her way back home again.

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K. L. Noone: Magician!

Hi, I’m K.L. Noone—many thanks to A.L. Lester for letting me drop by to talk about Magician today!

Magician comes out July 24 from JMS Books, and it’s m/m high fantasy, with bisexual main characters—at least, Gareth is bi, and Lorre is whatever ancient weary shapeshifting magicians are! (He’s been and done quite a lot, over the years, and at this point what he mostly is…is tired. But Gareth’s got a lot of enthusiasm…)

It’s very much about magic—probably obvious! And also it’s about past mistakes and guilt, and redemption, and trying to hide from the world on a deserted tropical island (because one might as well hide and feel guilty for one’s past mistakes in comfort!), and then it’s about what happens when an optimistic young prince shows up on one’s island and believes with all his heart that the world’s last legendary magician has to help with his quest, because that’s how quests go, isn’t it…

(It’s also the novel I once referred to on Facebook as, “Well, now there’s a lot of tea and magical sex diamonds.” So if those sound like your cup of…er…)

This might be one of my favorite novels that I’ve written; it’s one that’s lived in the back of my head for at least a decade. It’s technically a spin-off for a side character (in fact, the antagonist—though he’s not a bad person, just thoughtless!) from my short story “Sorceress,” which was my first-ever romance sale, way back then! I always knew the sequel was Lorre’s story: what does a magician do after he’s been reckless with his power and caused problems? And who would he fall in love with? The answer to the second question was, obviously, an Earnest Young Hero, someone who still believes that other people will help you if you ask them nicely, and who looks at a lonely and dangerous magician and asks how he can help, in turn.

(A fun and true trivia fact: Gareth’s name wasn’t necessarily going to be Gareth! I wasn’t sure it felt like him, but I needed to call him something—I thought I might change it later. But, around 30k in, I’d been writing him and thinking of him as Gareth, so…he was! And I actually quite like it now—the Arthurian reference fits nicely, I think. Gareth would also get along well with Prince Lir from Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn, I suspect…)

There are also nectarines. And some discussion of giant turtles. And a bandit or five.

Magician also has two of my favorites of my own ending lines—one for the main story and one for the epilogue. I sometimes find ending lines tricky, but both of these just turned up and felt right. (The last word of the novel overall, by the way, is “yes.” It’s an answer.)

I always write with music, and this playlist has a lot of The Proclaimers, The Pretty Reckless, and Volbeat on it—flavors of Edinburgh, of wild magic, of aging, of falling in love, of finding home at last. And some Against Me! because I suspect Lorre would sympathize with “I Was A Teenage Anarchist,” and The Cars’ “Magic” because, well, magic!

Here’s an excerpt, and buy links, and everything—I hope you enjoy this world and these characters. I’ve loved them for a very long time, and I’m excited to share. And if there’s a third story in this world, it’s got lesbian romance—a sorceress and a princess, in fact, but we’ll get there when we get there…

Buy Magician! JMS Books : Amazon

The beginning of Magician

The world’s greatest living magician, lying on his back on a rocky ledge halfway up a cliff and bathed in sunshine, felt the boat’s arrival on the island shore below like an uninvited knock at a private door. He did not enjoy it.

He didn’t move for a moment. He did not feel like it, and there’d be no rush. Nobody’d get past his wards.

He kept both eyes closed. Sun streaked red behind his eyelids; gold warmed his skin, his hair. His body soaked in the sensations of strong heated stone, sank into stone, became stone: learning how the rock felt when bathed in lush late-morning light. His edges blurred, softened: time slowed, thrummed, grew earthen and deep, salt-lapped and wind-etched. He might’ve been here for centuries, unhurried. Equilibrium and erosion, solidity and reshaping: a balance.

He had needed balance. Something he’d thought he’d known, once. Something he no longer understood.

He’d thought the island might help. Being rock for a while, or the wind, or the seaspray: being suspended amid them all. Being alone, because he was not sure he recalled how to be human, not well enough.

The island was warm—Lorre had always shamelessly adored being warm—and far enough from the mainland that he’d been mostly undisturbed, and close enough to trade routes that he could occasionally walk on water out to a boat and barter some repairs or some healing for some news of the Middle Lands and King Henry’s court at Averene and the Grand Sorceress Liliana. Lorre had promised not to magically check in on Lily or their daughter; he was attempting to keep that promise.

Equilibrium. Difficult. Sunlight was easier. Sunbeams were weightless. Stones did not have to think about human promises. Human perceptions.

The knock came again. It was not physical, or not entirely. It was a presence, an unexpected intruder standing below, shuffling feet in the sand and no doubt wondering where precisely a magician could be found, being faced with a towering blank cliff and no visible habitation.

Lorre sighed, pulled himself back from frayed edges and heavy sleepy light, and sat up, pulling a robe on in an unfussy tumble of blue and gold, mostly just because he liked the caress of silky fabric on bare skin. His senses shifted, dwindled: more human, though not entirely. He’d been a magician too long to not feel the threads of brilliance—cliff, vines, fish, grains of sand, sea-glass polished by waves—all around.

He peeked over the side of the ledge. Behind him the cave yawned lazily, reminding him of sanctuary: he could simply walk back inside, the way he had for several years now, and ignore the new arrival. That generally worked.

He was rather surprised someone’d found him at all. He wasn’t exactly hiding—oh yes you are, said a tart little voice in his head, one that sounded like Lily’s—but the island, after a bit of work on his part, nearly always concealed itself from maps and navigation charts. At the beginning a few enterprising adventurers had managed to track it down, young heroes on quests or proving their worth by daring an enchanter’s lair or begging for Lorre’s assistance in some revenge or inheritance or magical artifact retrieval scheme.

He’d ignored all but two of them. The illusion-wall kept everyone out, simple and baffling; the island had fresh water but little in the way of food. Mostly the adventurers’d given up and gone home, years ago; he couldn’t in fact recall the face of the last one. Two had become nuisances, loud and shouting; one of those had actually threatened to drink poison, melodramatically demanding Lorre’s assistance in collecting a promised bride from a glass mountain, claiming he’d die without her.

The young man currently standing on the beach was neither loud nor melodramatic. In fact, he was calmly considering the sheer cliff-face, which revealed nothing; he stepped back across the small curve of beach, shaded his eyes, seemed to be measuring. After a second he put a hand up, obviously checking the edge of the cliff: having noticed the very slight discrepancy where sea-birds dropped behind the illusion-wall a fraction sooner than they should vanish in reality.

Intelligent, this one. Lorre dangled himself over the ledge at an angle which would’ve been dangerous for anyone else, and watched.

The young man had dark reddish-brown hair, the color of autumn; he wore it tied back, though a few wisps were escaping. He’d dressed for travel, not in shiny armor the way some knights and princes had: sturdy boots and comfortable trousers, a shirt in nicely woven but also practical fabric, a well-worn pack which he’d swung down to the sand. He wasn’t particularly tall, but not short: average, with nicely shaped shoulders and an air of straightforward competence, not trying for impressive or intimidating.

Lorre, despite annoyance at the interruption, couldn’t help but approve. At least this one had some sense, and didn’t walk around clanking in metal under the shimmering sun.

The young man called up, “Hello?” His voice was quite nice as well, not demanding, lightly accented with the burr of the Mountain Marches but in the way of someone who’d been carefully sent to the best schools down South. “Grand Sorcerer?”

Lorre mentally snorted. He didn’t have a proper title, not any longer; if anyone did, it’d be Lily. His former lover, now wife of the brother of the King of Averene, was by default the last Grand Sorceress of the Middle Lands; she’d started up the old magician’s school again, welcoming and training apprentices. Lily always had been better with people. Lorre was not precisely welcome in Averene.

The young man said mildly, “I expect this is a test; I thought you would do that, you know,” as if he thought that Lorre might answer, as if they were having a conversation; and looked around. “I’m meant to find you, is that it?”

That was the opposite of it. Lorre on a good day barely recalled how to be human, and certainly wasn’t fit to interact with them. He’d lost his temper with the melodramatic poison-carrying prince, strolled invisibly onto the shore, asked the poison to turn itself into a sleeping draught, and then poured it into the idiot’s water flask. Then he’d found a passing ship and dumped the snoring body onto its deck. He hadn’t known the destination, and hadn’t bothered to find out.

His current young man was looking at driftwood. Lorre wondered why. He was getting a bit dizzy from leaning nearly upside down; he considered the sensation with some surprise. A swoop of gold swung into his eyes, distracting and momentarily baffling; he pushed the strands of his hair back with magic.

The young man found a stick, one that evidently met his standards for length and strength. He kept it in front of himself; he walked deliberately toward the cliff, and the illusion.

Oh. Clever. Avoiding traps. Testing a theory. Lorre found himself impressed, particularly when the young man watched the tip of the driftwood vanish and nodded to himself and then set rocks down to neatly mark the spot.

The island was not large, and the beach even smaller: a jut of cliff, a tangle of vines, a small lagoon and a trickle of water down to the shore. The illusion hid the cave-opening, but there wasn’t really anywhere else for someone to be; the young man figured that out within an hour or so of methodical exploration, and returned to the shore, and looked thoughtfully at the cliffs. He’d rolled up his sleeves and undone the ties of his shirt, given the heat; he had a vine-leaf in his hair, along with a hint of sweat.

Lorre, in some ways still very much human, couldn’t not stare. Something about those forearms under rolled-up sleeves. That hint of well-muscled chest. The casual ripple of motion, broad shoulders, heroic thighs.

“I suppose,” the young man said, very wry, still looking at the cliff as if perfectly aware Lorre was watching, “I should introduce myself. I think I forgot to, earlier.”

I suppose you should, Lorre agreed silently. Since you’re here. Disrupting my life.

He ignored the fact that he’d had no real plans. Meditation. Quiet. A hope for calm.

A hint of dragon-fire slid through his veins, under his skin. A memory. Restless. Beckoning. Dangerous.

Blurb: A magician in need of redemption. A loyal hero on a quest. And only one bed at the inn.

Once the world’s most legendary sorcerer, Lorre fled the Middle Lands after his own curiosity — and a misguided transformation spell—turned him into a dragon and nearly killed a king. He isn’t a dragon anymore, but he is hiding alone on a tropical island, avoiding people, politics, and his own reputation.

But now a hero has found him. And not just any hero. Prince Gareth’s full of patience, intelligence, a kind heart…and unfairly attractive muscles. And he needs Lorre’s help: his tiny mountain kingdom is under attack from ice magic, and Gareth hopes the world’s last great magician will save his people.

Lorre’s very much done with quests and princes and trying to change the world. But Gareth might tempt him to believe again…in heroes, in himself, and in magic.

Meet K. L. Noone

K.L. Noone employs her academic research for writing romance, usually LGBTQ+ and often paranormal, fantasy, or historical! Her full-length romance novels include the Character Bleed trilogy (Seaworthy, Stalwart, and Steadfast), Cadence and the Pearl, and A Demon for Midwinter, available from JMS Books, and A Prophecy for Two, available from Inkshares. She’s also the author of multiple romance novellas and short stories with JMS Books, and previously with Less Than Three Press, Circlet Press, and Ellora’s Cave. Her non-romance fantasy fiction has appeared in Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Sword and Sorceress and the magazine Aoife’s Kiss.

With the Professor Hat on, she’s published scholarly work on romance, fantasy, and folklore, including a book on Welsh mythology in popular culture and a book on ethics in Terry Pratchett’s fantasy. She is happily bisexual, married to the marvelous Awesome Husband, and currently owned by a long-legged black cat named Merlyn.

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