Carys Weldon Blog
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Excerpt time!Has it been forever since I gave you a little snippet to read? I think so! Here's a piece of the book I'm working on for mojocastle. It's, most definitely, a werewolf/garou deal.
The set-up: Maya has just come from a nice little sexual experience with a guy named Trevyn, where she made love to him--via a magickal portal--that let her walk through a smoky fire into a tipi where he was sitting naked. (Yeah, that IS something you'll want to read.) So, since Gaia (The Great Earth Mother God)had granted her wish--which was to have her true soul mate revealed to her, Maya is a little surprised to run into THIS guy, Brandon, as she leaves the altar at the Lake of Tears.
At first, he scares her. Then he tells her that he saw what she did. (Erotic movements, naked on a glacier--I'm telling you, it's a gotta read.) And he also says that when she asked Gaia to show her her soul mate, he almost stepped out of the shadows...then he realized she wasn't her sister (Sandy/Sand.)
However (I know, this is a way long set-up)...other garou slink in the woods around them and he pulls her into his arms--making them think she is totally with him. And then, to keep her safe from these slinky things, he takes her to a cabin...where she realizes that he was expecting to be with his lover. Except, her sister, Sand, was raped a year earlier and could not possibly be coming to him every night--not without some magick going on. Enter Raven's Mischief. Raven is a spirit the Athabaskans (Alaskan Indians) believe in. And he has provided both Brandon and Sand with this freaky green stuff in flasks...which they drink from. It's a hallucinagenic or something.
With no more ado, here it is:
…he led her into a line shack with heavy leather tacked over the interior of the windows, blocking light and wind. He bolted the door’s three deadlocks before he turned to light a lamp. With each one, she felt her organs lurch. First, her stomach, then her bowels, and when he turned to look at her as he pushed the last bolt into place, her heart turned over in her chest.
This…this was not good.
There was an expectancy in the air, and she had to suck in a deep, full breath to dispel some of her own nervousness. Anxiety and apprehension. Surely he could smell it getting stronger. She forced herself to stop staring at him, and look around.
The place had bare wooden planked walls, no décor, but was well stocked with emergency food and cooking supplies, several blankets, and boilable pouches of water. There was a small table with two chairs and a bed—freshly made, by the looks of it.
There was the big surprise. Rose petals covered the turned back sheets. Her gaze shot to Brandon. Where had he gotten rose petals clear out here? Had he choppered in and out of the city just to get them? That seemed extreme. He’d done that…for Sandy?
Her heart twisted with a pang. Ah. Was he that romantic? She almost liked him when that thought occurred to her, but it didn’t dispel her nervousness. Sandy wasn’t there. Maya had no way to protect herself against a wolf of his size.
Her throat tightened up. She watched him move to a brazier and light it. There were noises outside and no mistake that the entourage had followed them. Alone with Brandon, locked in, she wondered again if she should have taken her chances at running.
One thing she noticed as she watched him, the guy didn’t waste energy. A certain leashed power about him, he stood and took his coat off. Beneath that, he wore a wool high neck sweater over tight pants. His thighs were large, as were his shoulders and biceps, sporting the usual broad and solid Indian-Athabaskan physique.
He retrieved something from the shelf, a flask, and held it out. “Here. This will warm you up, fast.”
Since her toes and fingertips were numb, she didn’t argue. The liquid was bitter, and burned going down…and had a grittiness to it, like it was an herbal mixture in liquor of some sort. Absinthe? She used the back of her hand to wipe her lips, and it came away green. She passed the flask back, and he took a big swig then capped it and put it back.
She couldn’t help compare the look of him, in bulkiness, to her wolf lover. This man was much larger—too big for her tastes—much like the brutes Miff had guarding the edges of his territory. And there was a definite frustration about this guy. That was what she smelled. She sniffed twice to be sure.
“Take off your coat,” he ordered. “This thing will blast us out of here in no time.”
“I—I’m cold, thanks.” But not for long. Liquid heat had filled her belly and was now coursing through her. She stumbled backward a few steps as a pain sliced through her head. She bumped into something, and he turned around, and frowned, concerned at once.
“Are you all right?” He set the flask on the table and crossed the distance in three strides. She backed up again, hitting the wall, cornered—and thought that she might be able to shift and slash him before he could get through her parka. Brandon hesitated though, reading her without any trouble.
“Maya. You’re going to be here awhile. You will pass out from heat if you keep it on.” Gesturing to those outside the cabin, he added, “They think you’re Sand. She never leaves until right before dawn.”
“I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t—”
“What? Fraternize with the enemy?” He closed in on her personal space. “If you think that, then you don’t know your sister.” Forcing her hands out of the way, he deftly opened her coat and took it off of her, then gestured with a hand out. “The sweater, too.”
Wrapping her arms around her front, she said, “No. This is good.” Something was wrong with her. Her brain was going fuzzy. Her vision blurred.
His eyes flashed. “I’m losing my patience.”
“So am I.” Her defiance lasted all of two seconds before she dropped her gaze, thinking she might fall down. What had been in that drink?
“Fine.” He said easily, surprising her as he tossed the coat onto the table—where he’d put his, and then he reached out. “I’ll just rip it off of you.” His lips twisted. Her gaze came up to meet his, and topaz flashed in his eyes. He said honestly, “I like that sort of foreplay.”
She jerked away. “I—I don’t want foreplay.”
Against her will, he snagged a grip on her sweater and pulled her to him. She fought it, and the freaky thing going on inside of her, and ended up backed into the corner again. He towered over her, grinning wickedly.
“What do you want?”
Pinning her gaze to his adam’s apple, she said, “Noth—nothing from you.”
“Wrong.” He put his nose to hers and she realized the truth of being crowded and cornered. He was everywhere, all around her, and there was no escape.
The essence of complete terror escaped her pores, and she smelled it, and knew the second he did, too. His nostrils flattened, and his gaze narrowed. With his one hand on her sweater front, the other extended, taking a whole handful of her hair, tilting her head back.
Rape seemed imminent. She could tell he was angry for some reason, but she didn’t know why. She squeaked in pain at the twist of hair at her scalp. His features blurred.
“You are…everything Sand isn’t. Aren’t you?”
Except for being female, yes. Why did that make him cagey? Was he angry?
“I—I’m s—sorry.”
He held her there, like that, looking her over for several seconds. And then, when she thought he might let go, he kissed her. It was an assault, a ravaging kiss that devoured her, sucking her in—attesting to the man’s prowess at seductive control. She only fought a few seconds.
His hands began to rove, groping, sliding under her sweater, and the next thing she knew, he had divested her of it, yanked it over her head, kissed her some more while her arms were tangled up in it and dropped it in such a smooth move—his hands not leaving her body for more than a second. She didn’t even, really, comprehend what he’d done. She let out a little protest, but he swallowed that, too, and the span of his huge hands took hold—his thumbs rubbing the underside of her breasts, the wideness of his palms owning her, his fingers spreading over her back.
Damned, if she didn’t find the touch arousing as it softened, as his lips pliantly persuaded her to participate as an equal partner. She hated the feeling that she was betraying her wolf lover—and soul mate, and maybe her sister, but Gaia had allowed her femininity to be awakened, and there was no denying it.
Maya wondered briefly if the drink was swaying her thinking on this, but she dismissed that. Gaia had obviously offered her two soul mates. Who was she to refuse the Great Mother? She had heard of people taking two mates. Why not her? Many of her kind moved from relationship to relationship.
In the middle of her kissing introspection, Brandon lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his body, clinging. If he’d let go, she would have slipped to the ground, she was sure. He carried her to the bed, and laid her on the rose petals, then climbed over her. Her legs spread, cradling him as they were meant to do, and she felt his arousal through their pants, firm as a rod.
Once more, his hands moved through her hair, grabbing handfuls, only this time it was gentle. He lifted his head and searched her eyes. She saw sadness in his expression, and felt his fingers flick—and she knew a rose petal had landed in her hair.
Gruffly, he said, “I want to fuck you.”
She’d gotten that from his actions, but talking about it had her wary. Why was he stopping? Should she encourage him or be silent…? Why was her thinking muddled? She should know the answer!
(Tell me what you think)
1 Comments:
Great idea! I can see how this might build a fan base. Keep it up.
I'm not annonymous ,but I don't want to bother signing in to blogspot right now. Thanks for the ideas, Jen. I'll start reading your blog more often now.
Jay
By 
, at
5:10 PM
