Saffron Stains
Saffron
Stains is an urban fantasy story, set in the South West of England. Kael
and Jem are faei folk living together amongst humans - Kael is an elf, Jem
has a mixture of brownie and elf heritage, which means he has to work a lot
harder than Kael at the shape shifting and illusion magic that elves are renowned
for. Magic which Kael is convinced is harmful.
Jem is tired of watching Kael come and go from the fae court, tired of
wondering whether his beautiful lover needs him more than he needs his family.
He waited patiently the last time Kael disappeared, but he's not sure he
can do it again, and when Kael doesn't come home one night, Jem wonders
if it's all over for good.
Kael would much rather be home with Jem than be in the fairy court with
his mother and sister, but he has obligations. Obligations that lead to
him neglecting the one thing he truly cares about. Can Kael find a way to
convince Jem that he wants to come home?
Saffron
Stains is available in a variety of electronic formats direct from Torquere
Press
Extract
Before the beginning.
The first night Jem had slept well enough, curled up in the middle of their
bed, expecting to find Kael's long fingers tangled in his hair when he woke
up.
The second he’d spent sitting at the kitchen table, watching a cold
cup of tea, and an unmoving door.
By the third night he was trying to focus scrying spells through desperation
and sleeplessness, and cursing the enchantments that obscured even the smallest
courts. He was pacing, and uncharacteristically torn between going out to
hunt in person and being in the cottage in case someone came.
The fourth night he spent unconscious on Sasha's sofa, the fifth with a
row of empty bottles and thin strands of gossip cutting into him.
A round week since Kael had kissed him and left him boneless on their bed,
the white sheets were soaked with watered blood, stained with saffron, sharp
with broken glass.
Because the whispers of gossip had not lied.
Because Kael was free from the courts, and still not in their bed.
Because no scrying bowl that could show him that was ever going to show
him anything else.
Extras
The air from the open window was still blissfully cool, but the light that
crept past the curtains was starting to thicken and honey, and Kael did
not need to look at a clock to know that soon Jem would wake and be about
his buisness for the day, all energy and activity. For now, though, he was
at peace, sleeping soundly, the long line of his side from shoulder to knees
one elegant, bare sweep, their sheets tangled around his calves. The movement
of his ribs was almost imperceptibly, and Kael reached out with one care
filled hand, fitting it around the rise of Jem's hipbone, needing to feel
the heat of him, to know that he was real. Jem stirred but slightly at the
touch, exhaling and stretching, rolling slighty more to the front and drawing
Kael in. Kael settled himself close behind his lover, hips to buttocks,
chest to back, burying his face in the tangled mess of Jem's hair. A prickle
of sweat started to form almost at once, where their skin touched, but Jem
didn't pull away, and Kael breathed his own muscles lax and heavy, and let
the light from the window creep so slowly towards them.
