I wanted to share an excerpt from my newest story published by Dark Roast Press!
TITLE: Samhain’s Embrace
AUTHOR: Jesse Fox
AUTHOR URL: http://jessefox1968.wordpress.com/
PUBLISHER: Dark Roast Press http://darkroastpress.com
MY SPACE: http://www.myspace.com/jesse_fox2008
RELEASE DATE: October 31, 2009
URL TO THE BUYING PAGE: http://darkroastpress.com/samhain.php
WARNINGS: There are explicit M/M Sexual Situations in this novella.
What is loss to the human heart?
A spirit of nature, misunderstood and forgotten by modern man, when drawn out on the one night he roams the darkness freely, seeks to understand the meaning of loss and ease a young man’s pain.
Bran Conleth is a man broken by the ultimate loss – death. Desperate to summon his deceased lover he chooses the one night when the veil between the land of the living and the land of the dead is at its thinnest. Instead of his lover, he calls forth the embodiment of the night – Samhain.
Together they share one incredible journey that will teach Samhain about human loss and Bran that there is life after death.
Samhain sent out a silent thank you to the Goddess that the young man had brushed off the faint movement as nothing more than a draft. His unseen eyes followed as Bran lifted the silver athame, and then reached beneath the altar to retrieve a simple wooden box, the top engraved with a pentacle. He stood and moved across the room to where the circle was and Samhain could not pull his gaze from the long line of the young man’s naked back. Few witches still performed sky clad in this day and age, not that it was significant one way or the other, although he did find the human form– male and female–quite enticing.
His gaze mapped out each inch of the young man’s body with precise glances, his wide shoulders, narrow waist, and hips, and the soft swell of his ass that led into long muscled legs. That he found himself drawn to this child of magic was no surprise to him. Samhain understood intimately the grief that surrounded him in a miasma of pain. Death was his bread and butter, so to speak, and although humans found it terrifying and unspeakable, he appreciated it for the beauty it led to. Humans didn’t understand that life sometimes, more often than not, was far more unspeakable. Death was a part of nature, a release from the bitterness of an existence that did not always allow true happiness. This man, though, had found happiness in life, and Samhain understood his bitterness towards death.
Remaining invisible, he glided from his hiding place and approached the man who had knelt within the circle, laying out items from the box. There was a lidded bowl of salt, a censer with incense, a piece of lava rock, and a lidded bowl of water. He settled each item at the appropriate point of the compass, removed the lids from the bowls and returned to the box to pull out a small medallion and a box of matches. The care with which he went about this ritual fascinated Samhain, for he hadn’t truly seen such faith in the old ways in a very long time. Yes, there were witches in this day and age, but over the years, the rituals watered down, lost to the mists of time, and to see this man show such belief and care was heartening.
Finally, the man stood, went to the northern point, and began pacing the circle, pausing to light each candle, and lastly the incense. The flames swelled and danced as he lit the incense and turned to face the mirror. Lowering his body to the floor, he settled his gaze on his reflection, with a look of determination in his eyes.
Samhain drifted along the perimeter, curiosity driving him on even when his instincts told him he should stop this ritual. It was clear now that the man was seeking to call forth a spirit and that was the reason Samhain was here. He was the guardian of the gate between the land of the living and the land of the dead and in his long existence, he’d never seen one of these rituals end well. He lifted his head and focused on the mirror as the man began to chant softly, the incense rising to swirl around his head.
Who am I to deny him the closure he needs? Samhain thought.
You are the guardian of the door, a faint voice whispered in reminder, the one of four whom we have given the power of life and death.
He sighed softly, his breath caressing the bare skin of the man in the circle. Yes, he thought, but will denying him be the right thing to do?