Sionnach Wintergreen

author of fantasy and romance


Leave a comment

Elarhe and Kite

LD book sample I love contrast. I can’t resist unusual pairings. Elarhe and Kite, from my new erotic romance, Lover, Destroyer, are the perfect match, in my opinion, because they’re polar opposites.

Elarhe is a young, idealistic prince who left his kingdom to learn how to wield his magical powers, powers that are considered evil in his homeland. He discards everything to follow his dream and enters the Grandimanderian Empire disguised in rags. He is confident and passionate, spirited and kind. He is a creature of heart and fire.

Kite lives like a prince, but was actually an orphaned goatherd until, at thirteen, he developed a horrific magical power capable of destroying an entire city.  As an adult, he lives alone aside from his dogs and a few servants, surrounded by his wealth and a pervasive, brooding darkness. He is like a lake of still, black water hiding secrets and skeletons beneath its surface.

Lover, Destroyer explores how two such different men learn to love and understand each other while exploring BDSM and learning to appreciate each other’s boundaries.

 


Leave a comment

Violets

Every time I write a piece, I have a favorite chapter or scene. This excerpt from Lover, Destroyer is my favorite, partly because, even in a smutty book, I like to sneak in symbolism. In this passage, the soon-to-be-lovers Elarhe (aka “Squirrel”) and Kite have been flirting and verbally sparring for several encounters. Here, the normally dark and brooding Kite gives Elarhe a violet. Violets can symbolize humility, everlasting love, or death. In some way, all three apply here. Death, because death represents change, and this scene marks a turning point in how each views the other.

“Well, if it isn’t Darelock’s proudest urchin? How are you this fine evening, Squirrel?”
Elarhe tensed. “I’m fine.”
Kite walked up to him, smiling coldly. “You look like you’ve been rolling about in a dung heap.”
“I’ve been working. Doing an honest day’s labor. What have you been doing—buying posies all day?”
“I’ve been all day in the stacks, researching spells of the darkest nature.” He sniffed the bouquet. “The flowers are to remind me that this often dreary world is also beautiful.”
Elarhe watched him, disarmed. “The world is always beautiful,” he said softly, slowly. “Even the rain, even the mud. Everything can’t be flowers.”
Kite’s pale blue eyes seemed to mirror the violets. He gazed at Elarhe as if seeing him for the first time. After a long moment, he broke eye contact, shaking his head. “I need the flowers.” There was no pretense in his voice this time, just something quiet and melancholy. He handed a flower to Elarhe. “Sometimes we need something pure and good.”

 


2 Comments

Remembrance

I’m depressed. I’ve been trying to hide it. I’m still writing (a comedy of all things), but everything is kind of hard, my body feels heavy, and I want to sleep more than I want to be awake.

I know one of the reasons is that today is the birthday of someone I loved very much who is gone now. She died of an overdose, but I don’t know if it was intentional or not. She was beautiful, kind, and generous. There aren’t words that describe her well. This is an excerpt from an autobiographical short story I wrote when she was alive about a trip we took to Galveston. She was a heroin addict and had just been diagnosed with hepatitis C. This was about four years before she died. Names have been changed.

Alice and I puttered along the seawall and bought two hermit crabs and some waterguns at a souvenir shop. We shared a love of animals and trash—anything the rest of the world considered useless.  She was tired and wanted to go home, but I coaxed her onto the beach, telling her we needed sand and shells for the crabs, so they would feel at home in our apartment.

I loped along the beach, trying to entice her into the waves with me. She lagged behind, finally stopping to stand by herself.  I backtracked to stand with her, wondering if she was okay.  She stood at the water’s edge and took off her baseball cap, unleashing about two feet of blonde hair.  No emotion showed on her face. The wind swept up from the ocean, tossing her hair and unfurling it behind her. Her open white shirt billowed about her taut body like a waving flag, the thin camisole beneath it clinging to her skin.  I stopped a little behind her; she twisted her fragile neck to greet me as I approached.

“Do you want to get in the water?  Cool off?” I asked.

“No, I just want to go home,” she said listlessly. She turned her face skyward and squinted into the white sun. “The doctor told me I was lucky I didn’t have HIV.”

I dug my toe into the wet sand. “Yeah, she’s right. It could’ve been a lot worse. I mean, god, look at Geoff—that could have been you.”

She was very quiet.  In the bright sunlight, her face was yellow with greenish overtones; she looked like a faded bruise. “Yeah, everybody thinks I’m lucky—that it could’ve been worse.  That’s just what my mother said, too—look at Geoff.” She stared at the ocean with such longing that I thought she might dive into it.  “I never looked at him and thought he was unfortunate. We used to talk about it—about how it was better for his parents than if he had just hung himself.”

“I don’t see how—“

“Sure there’s a stigma, but it’s not as bad somehow as suicide. You know, your kid gets sick, and, yeah, that sucks, but there’s a safety there, like a buffer. It’s not their fault their kid was a junkie. They aren’t responsible. It’s society or music or friends or whatever.  It’s better that way, you know.  It’s kinder than suicide.” She stared out at the ocean, her voice a little wistful. “Much easier for everyone concerned.”

I nodded silently and felt cold in the ocean wind. Her suicide wishes were nothing new.  We had both been enamored with death since childhood. I could have told her that I loved her—that I would be devastated if she died, that I couldn’t imagine a world without her, that was she was my sunlight, my hope, my only and truest friend—but she already knew these things, and none of that really mattered. I possessed no tether that would hold her should she choose to go, but I would have chased her anywhere. My feelings were trivial, my desires were lurid, selfish.  I let them scatter like sand in the wind, let them rain down on the turgid waves to mix with the oil and mud, the plastic soda rings and dead fish.


Leave a comment

Lover, Destroyer

Lover, Destroyer is available for preorder on Amazon. Although it is a fantasy romance, it contains adult content.

Can he build his dreams with a destroyer?

Beautiful young Elarhe, crown prince of Ayklinn, leaves his homeland disguised in rags because he wants to learn how to use his magic. He travels to a border city in the Grandimanderian Empire, where magic isn’t forbidden. But that land isn’t fond of immigrants; fear permeates its streets, and cruel things lurk in its shadows. One of these cruel things is a man who wields a terrible magic that—instead of healing or mending—deals only in death…. And Elarhe wants to rule his heart.

As a child, Kite destroyed an entire city with his dark magic. Now, he serves the Overfather of Grandimanderia. Feared and alone, Kite is content with the ice in his veins…until a talented young immigrant challenges everything he thought he knew.

This gay erotic romance depicts two lovers testing each other’s boundaries and discovering new experiences together. It contains sexually explicit scenes, including scenes with BDSM and various fetishes such as bondage (cuffs, suspension, straitjacket), pony play, spanking, flogging, gut punching, wax play, and others. Some scenes are extreme. (But there’s actually a story!

It releases July 11th. To reserve your copy, go here.

LD book sample

 

 


3 Comments

Compulsion

I love this J.K. Rowling quote:

“Writing for me is a kind of compulsion, so I don’t think anyone could have
made me do it, or prevented me from doing it.”

I can definitely relate. Yesterday I uploaded Lover, Destroyer to Amazon. It’s awaiting approval. Almost as soon as I uploaded it, I started working on the sequel to Because Faery Godmonster.

I did this because I need some comedy this month. I have two sad anniversaries coming up, and I need to work on something simple and fun. I also did it because I simply can’t help it. As long as I’m not depressed, I have to write. Have to–it’s not a choice. It’s a need like sleeping or eating.


Leave a comment

Cover Reveal for Lover, Destroyer!

I’m so happy to share with you the book cover for Lover, Destroyer! Here’s a little preview of it. I’ll probably show you the entire thing once it’s published. Next_hub on Fiverr created this cover. I’m thrilled with it because it looks so much better than the idea I pitched to her. I love artists that can do that–take what a client says and do something better with it.

Kite looks dark and foreboding, and little tawny Elarhe practically glows. This is very much what the book is about–a bright, shiny guy comes into an melancholic, brooding guy’s life and changes it in profound ways. It’s a little like The Sound of Music without yucky kids and Nazis.

Lover, Destroyer will be available on Amazon soon!

You can reach next_hub here.

LD book sample


4 Comments

Story Euphoria

balloon-1761634__480

No, I have not dropped off the face of the Earth. Whenever I get to the end of a project, I start getting hyperfocused and can’t stop until I’m done. So, the past week, I’ve hardly slept, probably lost weight, and have barely slept. Housework? Bwahaha. No, I’ve just been writing. But today, I finished the rough draft of my m/m romance, Lover, Destroyer.

It’s basically an old fashioned gothic romance with dudes and kink. I’m changing the cover, but I’ll reveal it soon. For now, I’m just basking in something I think of as story euphoria. If you’ve ever seen the musical My Fair Lady (I love old musicals), you probably remember the scene where Audrey Hepburn’s character can’t sleep after going to a dance and keeps spinning around the room singing. This feeling is sort of like that.

That world is still in my head, but it’s a blur of images now. The characters have gone silent and are standing, holding hands, listening to the applause ringing in my blood. I’m utterly, completely happy–euphoric. I’ll slowly return to all of the drudgery of everyday life (including hygiene), knowing that in a week or so I’ll start the painful process of editing and revising. For now, however, I’m spinning around the room, singing.