Flash: The Back Room

Photo by Tomoe Steineck on Unsplash

The inn’s Back Room cracked windows released the some of the excessive heat created from the afternoon sun beating down on the building just mere hours ago, but soon the keeper or one of his sons would need to come into the well-appointed space and close them to keep the temperature necessary for sleeping against growing the late autumn chill as the sun dipped below the mountain range. In the meantime, a young nobleman paced while an older man sprawled on the settee, a book dangling between fingers to mark his place while he waited for Nigel to wind down.

“Have you made the decision to run?” Matthews asked. “I can have a ship ready for you before you make it back to Seaport.”

“I can’t do that, you know I can’t do that.” Nigel turned on the knotted wool rug to walk the other direction. “If I was going to do that, I wouldn’t have come this far. I would have run while in Kylar.”

“Then tomorrow morning we go through the pass.”

“Gods.” Nigel threw his head back in frustration, before executing another turn. “It’s so stupid. I thought I was safe.”

The old solider chuckled. “I know I taught you better than that.”

“There is no safety in war.”

“And?”

“The crown is either at war or preventing it, and therefore they are always in a state of war.” Nigel crossed the carpet again. “But Jackel has two children already. It should be one of them.”

“They are too young, considering.”

“Exactly.” Nigel ran both hands through his top-cut before throwing them out at his old mentor. “Thirty-two! ‘Considering.’ How is this even a consideration?”

“Treaties are made.” Matthews gave up waiting for the twenty-four-year-old to calm. Picking up his bookmark, he slid it between the pages and tucked the leather-bound treatise on horse breeding back into its velvet bag for storage with the other two books he had brought on this trip. “The merchant trade alone is worth a princely reward.”

The glare Nigel shot glanced off Matthews careless manner without effect. He hardened its steel and stared. Knocking on the door to the Back Room, startled him and drew both their eyes to the wooden barrier as it opened and the noise of the main room flooded in.

“My pardon, your Grace, your …,” the innkeeper coughed, cutting off his speech for a moment, as Nigel raised his eyebrows, “Sir.” He entered, a veiled lady traveler on his arm. “This good lady arrived seeking succor, and, as you know, with the harvest holiday, things are … hectic in the front rooms. May she share the Back with you?”

Rarely did anything trump Matthews station as Duke of Seaport. But a quick glance at the woman’s silk veil indicated crafting, if not necessarily nobility, the lacework being minimal around the eyes, then at least high merchant class, the delicate thinness of the fabric while retaining opaqueness was beyond the reach of all but the deepest purses, and as Nigel’s present dilemma revealed, accommodations needed to be made for those who ruled the trade routes. The duke stood, indicating with a hand sweep to the keep to install the woman the best seat of the room. She sunk, carefully arranging layers of green and teal skirts around her, heavy red clay clinging around the hems. She untucked the edges of her veil from the laces holding her bodice and blouse together so the bottom foot of fabric pooled in her lap.

Once settled, she turned her head toward the keep and nodded. “My Lords, it is my pleasure to make Mistress Zeriff’shazeriff known to you.” He stumbled over the foreign name. “Mistress, these are his Grace, my own Duke of Seaport,” Matthews ruled the land between the pass and the port and bowed acknowledgement of the introduction, the woman tilted her head slightly in return “and … Nigel, Knight of the Order of the Icey Pansy, Lord of … Ground-swell?” The keep looked toward the two noblemen for confirmation.

Matthews nodded, impressed the man had pulled one of Nigel’s lesser noble titles from the heated air, while his old squire grabbed his hat where he had thrown it hours ago and bowed excessively and said, “A pleasure.” The woman veil had puffed out when Nigel was introduced, but her head moved not at all after his obeisance.

“Your meal should be here shortly,” the plainfolk bowed to the men before turning to the woman and saying in a nervous rush, “and Mistress, I will have that foot bath ready for you straight away.”

The two soldiers shared a glance, Nigel giving a quick finger signal they used to exchange when he was squired to the duke to indicate troublesome officers with delusions of grandeur. The innkeeper hadn’t batted an eye having Matthews stay in the Climb’s Start for a week while the letter he sent ahead found Nigel and brought the young man back home from his most recent escapade, nor had he cared when Nigel finally arrived other than delivering the wanderer directly to his old mentor, yet this woman had already managed to get into the Back without a title and had the man rushing to meet her demands over the nobles. What kind of harridan was now ensconced with them for the evening and how soon could they extract themselves from the situation?

(words 899, first published 2/5/2025)

Book Review: Silver in the Wood

Amazon Cover

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

Winner of the 2020 World Fantasy Award!

There is a Wild Man who lives in the deep quiet of Greenhollow, and he listens to the wood. Tobias, tethered to the forest, does not dwell on his past life, but he lives a perfectly unremarkable existence with his cottage, his cat, and his dryads.

When Greenhollow Hall acquires a handsome, intensely curious new owner in Henry Silver, everything changes. Old secrets better left buried are dug up, and Tobias is forced to reckon with his troubled past—both the green magic of the woods, and the dark things that rest in its heart.

 

MY REVIEW

I don’t believe I’ve ever read a romance story based on the Greenman mythos before, but this works wonders. And Silver in the Wood is definitely a paranormal romance story (M-M), despite being marketed as a straight-up fantasy story.

Rich and layered, this story develops both Tobis and Henry into fully realized human beings, well, at least sentient beings. And follows their paths, both of individual growth and growth as a couple, with barely a kiss exchanged.

Short at 112 pages, it is also a quick read and worth every moment.

(read for bookclub)

Editing Rant: Why do they love them?

Photo by Tyler Nix on Unsplash

Why?

Why would ANYONE love this person?

Let alone three different love interests?

The main POV runs over everyone. Plays the love interests against each other. Ignores what they are saying and does STUPID MC decisions just to contradict the advice of the love interests.

I get it. Really I do. Strong independent person.

But this isn’t that – this is toxic, manipulative, and unhealthy. If the love interests didn’t start of emotionally damaged, longing for this level of sadism, there is no way they would have lasted past their first encounter with their “true” love.

(Note that any gender may be applied to the romantic element – this editing rant is for an urban fantasy, but I have raised reacted this way for every genre in existence.)

Editing Rant: For Want of a Body

Illustration 6672404 © Gheburaseye | Dreamstime.com

It was as if her body wanted him. Not just (the female character’s name), but her body.

Why is her BODY more important than her name, her being? (pinch nose)

The author is trying to be romantic, to say (the action of sex) of his male MC with his love interest went deeper and connected to him more than anything else. This is a known toxic male trait – they have been so starved for any connection – physical, mental, and emotional that body touch is assumed to be this an amazing be-all end-all connection.

When writing, remember Name and the Person is more important than the Body.

Flash: X is for Xenophile

Image by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

Original Photo description: In South Korea these sculptures are part of the light festival. Dragon vs. Tiger.

Xanadu halted, stunned, staring up at the two lanterns doing battle. A tiger challenging a dragon. Fortunately, this wasn’t their first paralyzation tonight as their xenophile brain completely shut down required motor skills, so I didn’t run into them and I was able to keep others in the festival crowd from bumping into my special American.

I wrapped my arms around them and placed my head on their shoulder. “What is it this time?”

“Other than sheer beauty?”

“Ne.”

“The details of the flames lit from within by the lantern. I think I can…” They moved their hands as though chiseling or carving. “Please take a picture of them, Seok.”

Lifting my camera, I start taking pictures as we circle the lantern pair from different angles. Sometimes I activate the movie mode, because somehow Xanadu can capture movement in their sculptures and carvings and I think they will need to see three-D aspect which still just can’t. When I’m done, they hug me tight and tell me for the ninth time tonight how glad they were I brought them to the Winter Seoul Lantern Festival.

We move on, and I wait for their next dazed reaction.

(words 196; first published 4/28/2024)

Capturing the Tiger and Dragon Series

  1. X is for Xenophile (4/28/2024)
  2. X is for Xylotomous (5/19/2024)
  3. X is for Xanthic (6/9/2024)
  4. Exhibit (7/14/24)
  5. Exit Strategy (9/1/2024)