5 Days To Go! Let’s Fund Crows on Heartstrings!

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WE’RE 85% FUNDED AND NEED ONE MORE PUSH TO GET FUNDED IN THE NEXT FIVE DAYS!

CLICK HERE TO PLEDGE!

We only have FIVE DAYS! We can do this with your help!

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Crows on Heartstrings is a fully illustrated anthology of short stories. We have a little something for everyone, no matter what your gender, sexuality, or color, we have something for you. We are proud to say that we are mostly created by, for and about lgbtqa+ folks. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. We are also comprised of 23 women, and 3 men, so READ WOMEN!

The project is in its last FIVE DAYS on kickstarter and we need all of your support to bring our dream to life! please pledge if you can, and spread the word. thank you for everything, guys. we would not have made it this far without you!

 

Here are some of our contributors:

@aegisdea @aubreymeeksart @pannan-art @sonialiao @maxwickstrom @weatherfox @alisabishop @heavenlyeros @dodtt @spectre-draws @thevioletknight @shutterbones @artofpan

@theconstantvoice

What Crows on Heartstrings NEEDS:

We need FUNDING. We need your pledges to make this a reality. If you can pledge even just five dollars if you can, and tell five friends personally to pledge as well, we can do this! We want to give you the characters you want to read. Please help us make this inclusive book written and illustrated by 23 women, and 3 men, some or most of us LGBT+ writers and artists.  Come on! We can do it!

CLICK HERE TO PLEDGE!

We only have FIVE DAYS! We can do this with your help!

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LGBT and Female Characters — How Crows on Heartstrings Wants Self Publishing To Change Everything

What is the difference between a female character and a male character in mainstream publishing? Well — that’s easy. The answer should be nothing.

It should be that male and female characters are both treated equally, but it doesn’t happen that way. Male characters are flawed but likeable. They struggle and are strong. Male characters are people. So what about female characters? It seems that today female characters are talked about in one of two ways, they are either the strong female lead or are a Mary Sue. 

The trend now in female characters is that they need to be strong in all aspects, fierce, undeniably unbeatable. Why can’t we see female characters the way we see male characters? Flawed and strong? Why are female characters so extreme? What happened to real women? Are we not interesting enough to make real characters?

But, tip the scale in either direction, and critics will tell you your female lead is obviously inspired by the author and therefore a Mary Sue, OR has no flaws to be seen and is too good at everything, and therefore, a Mary Sue.

What about characters of racial minority? Or LGBT Characters? What happens then?

Well, we simply do not have enough of those.

Why is it so hard to get good female characters, POC characters, and LGBT characters in stories? Does mainstream publishing not think they will sell? If that’s so, then we need to look to self publishers such as Natalia Jaster and J.C. Lillis for help.

Self publishing isn’t the same as it used to be. Sure, you can get some pretty sketchy e-books. A lot of them seem to be just first drafts of novels. But what we need to start doing, is to use self publishing, and fund self publishers, so that main stream publishers know what we want.

Diversity.

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If you agree with me up until this point, I have to share something with you. Crows on Heartstrings is a book of illustrated short stories, all centered around doomed love.

Our writers craft harrowing tales of families torn apart by entities unknown, lovers cursed by fairies, siblings fighting monsters, and more. No type of love is safe from our tragedies. Gay, straight, romantic, familial, friendly, no matter what your shape or color, we have something for you and we are coming for you. We also take our anti-discriminatory viewpoint and stretch it across genres. We have fantasy, sci-fi, supernatural, period, and contemporary pieces.

These aren’t just romances, they’re epic tales of doom. I can’t wait to steal your heart and shatter it a little!

And as if that isn’t enough, we have haunting imagery from only the most talented artists, just to twist the knife. Did you think we were done? Because we even have comics and poems, all doomed.

But it’s better to love and to have lost, isn’t it?

Crows on Heartstrings aims to treat it’s characters as the real, flawed, gritty characters we want.

Our gay characters do more than come out and suffer for it. Our women save the day in the real and complex ways that men do, and our POC characters do not die to enhance the arc of white male leads.

Crows on Heartstrings wants to show the world that stories can be marketable AND diverse.

We need to take what we want.

We need to create a demand for diversity in our books.

We need to write and appreciate characters who thrive or struggle in their own stories without depending on a cisgendered white male lead.

LGBT, Female, and POC characters are NOT plot devices. If you want to see all these things and more in your books and media, you must support small, self publishers where they offer it.

To learn more about Crows on Heartstrings and how you can help, pledge to our Kickstarter !

(article originally published on medium.com)

Crows on Heartstrings Anti Valentine’s Day Cards!

 

Ready to read these gut-wrenching stories? Visit the Crows on Heartstrings website!

Crows on Heartstrings – Anti Valentine’s

Here’s another one by Ashley Feemster for our Artist, Writer, and Curator, my story, Roses Grow for Mammet Men.

This is the perfect time for me to talk to you about my short story!

Roses Grow for Mammet Men is an Urban Fantasy set in New York City. Elves and Fairies are living among humans and they have more important things to worry about than hatred from humans.

Roses Grow for Mammet Men has everything you could want, romance, magic, treachery, and heartache. Dathi and Mercurie struggle with identity, war, and keeping the love alive in this twisty tale.

Follow us for more on this story and all our others! 

Book Review: Trick – Natalia Jaster

26594092We need to talk about Trick by Natalia Jaster. It was simply the most beautiful books I’ve ever read.

There is a rule amongst his kind: A jester doesn’t lie.

In the kingdom of Whimtany, Poet is renowned. He’s young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue.

Yet allow him this: It’s only the most cunning, most manipulative soul who can play the fool. For Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he’ll risk everything to protect.

Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he’s juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him.

But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet’s secret is delicate, binding the jester to the princess in an unlikely alliance . . . and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

It was all too easy to hang onto every word Poet and Briar spun. I could not put this book down and I wanted to much to savor it. I wanted it to last forever.

Now for the spoilery bits.

Natalia Jaster’s blurb about Trick had me just as tricked about Poet as all of Whimtany. While he enraptured me, and kept me just as painfully interested in him as he did his Sweet Thorn, Briar, it wasn’t until we learned about his sweet secret, everything changed.

I don’t want to go right out and say it, because if you haven’t read this glorious book, I want you to stay surprised.

Beyond the beautiful craft of Jaster’s writing, a very important message about humanity and the cruelty of it pokes its head from the pages. This story is so much more than a tense love story about a boy and a girl who judge each other too quickly.

Never have I read a book which spoke so truly about the many facets of love and it’s different faces.

I can only dream that Natalia Jaster would contribute something to Crows on Heartstrings, because this story was everything anyone needs to know about love. Love of country, love of family and friends, romance. This book had everything. I only wish I could craft my characters the way Natalia Jaster crafted this masterpiece.

My rating: YOU’D BETTER GO BUY THIS BOOK NOW

🙂

 

When they met… Abomination Boy and Half a Prince Part 12

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By the time Elijah looked around, Lucien was already lounging on his bed, looking like a dark prince, barefoot and sadly dressed in a new pristine black v-neck.

If Elijah was surprised by the hazy moment that had commenced, he concealed it well. He gazed at Lucien on his bed, thinking of how absorbing he was right now. He rubbed a hand behind his neck and closed his eyes a second. He could go back down and drag Natalie out and they could forget tonight, or he could stay longer and let his own curious mind be filled. A smirk plastered his lips. Always, the latter. He wasn’t ready to go home just yet.

He strode across the room and perched himself on the windowsill, propping his elbow on his bent knee. Lucien could look horrified that he was still there, but he seemed relatively at ease. Elijah’s eyes lit. “You don’t mind, do you? Natalie seems to absorbed in the kitchen with your angel. And, I myself am too interested in your remarkable life.” A shrug. “I don’t usually run to demons or angels with impressive lives.”

“Oh? And what exactly about me interests you?” Lucien’s deep voice rumbled in his throat. He sank low into his bed so that his heavy head could rest on his pillow. His bones were both excited and achy from some annoying halfling symptoms. Lucien had been down this road before, with the sticky tension in the room, dancing in circles around a bed, being too close. What startled him was how slow it was, he was used to being overcome quickly with pain, and being unable to utter a word during the process. This– this was slow and bittersweet. This was enough to pique his interest.

Elijah stroked his jaw and pretended to be contemplating on questions. “You told me about your nature as a demon and angel battling in you, but how do this fair with your feelings? Have you ever felt anything that has affected you highly? How about romance? I see only your depressive state, such a negative emotion. Have you ever felt something opposed to that?” His forehead pleated. “Have you ever felt something human?”

“I have feelings.” Even when he was overcome with darkness he had feelings. Usually those feelings were to kill innocent things, and let their blood spill from open wounds into the street so he could lick it from the cold ground. If he was having a particularly angelic day he found himself being a bit more ruled by logic and law, and using those things to be selfless. But when he was balanced he was as human as ever. When he was neither good nor bad, well, that was something he was experiencing now. He figured that’s what humans felt, he had felt it with Dahlia, and now it was burning more with Elijah, and a hint of wrongness for wanting such things of a man who had killed him. Lucien’s skin burned when he was near Elijah, literally burned, and now it burned with anxious blanketing about his shoulders. It took all he had to force his demonic notions of lust and replace them with human dreams of love.

“I think I am incredibly human when I can balance out my blood. More human than a human. I am neither good nor evil, isn’t that about as human as it gets?” He asked. “I wasn’t joking about the whoring thing. My only experience with romance has been truly void of all romance. It was all physical, all pain, and all against my will. In Hell, I was a thing, not a person.” He flicked his hair out of his unapologetic eyes. This was stating pure facts, but convincing humans or human halflings was proving to be a chore when it came to claims that such things didn’t bother him. He couldn’t feel sorry for the life he had, the only one he’d known, only change it by experiencing new things.

“I’m feeling quite human right now.”

“Well,” Elijah stretched his legs before him. “You’re not in Hell anymore. You’re not treated as a thing in this world. It’s a pleasure to know you feel quite human.” He eyed the street outside, barely illuminated by the street lamps. He recalled Natalie, how he met her and took her away from her ambitious father. His demon twins he deemed were changelings, he rescued from the wrath of a great demon. Elijah had always been fond of taking broken things, but he hadn’t realized it until now. And as he looked back at Lucien, his stone cold heart had somehow eased. What he loathed the most were demons, humans, anyone who took advantage of others who were weaker than them. “My father,” he began, rising from the window sill. “Taught me his own ways, persuading humans with weapons, with war, with fights. I was fortunate. Before I thought he would be like any other demons. But some demons take pride too much, and my father overwhelmed himself with having a son he can dangle in front of his companions. Guess I was lucky.” He walked to the bed, standing just a feet away from Lucien. “But I have to live up to his expectations. I have to compete with myself, make certain I will be the best and my father will have something to brag about.” He snorted. “There was a woman I met in a Scottish village a century ago. I fell in love with her, at her strong will despite her abusive father who did nothing but brand her a whore. She was fierce and I found myself adoring broken things unbend. That’s the first time I felt purely human.”

He plopped on the bed, startling Lucien. Elijah’s brown eyes were pinned on Lucien’s. “I may say, you astound me. After all you’ve been through, you are still selfless. It’s too human. You are more human than you think.”

“You make me sound like a puzzle.” Lucien rolled his head with inky ease to better meet Elijah’s gaze. “I don’t think vengeance is noble. But I want to ensure that my mother dies and cannot create more of me to bring down Heaven and fuck up the universe. That’s not interesting, it’s what’s meant to be done. And I only want it because I was personally affected.”

After a moment, Lucien chuckled.

“So you have a thing for whores, then?”

Laugh erupted from Elijah again. He eased down, lay sideways on the bed and smiled at Lucien. “Perhaps I am fond of whores who are puzzling, but I cannot perceive you as a whore, you see.” He couldn’t say he saw Lucien more as a victim. That could hurt his feelings, he may never know. Funny. He’d just killed him moments ago, and now he brandished himself of preventing muttering words that could hurt his feelings. “How about you, Lucien? What are you fond of?”

“Demons would pay my mother to fuck me. Is that not whoring?” Lucien’s breath hitched and he slammed his eyes shut to rid himself of the memory.

“I don’t really know what I’m fond of, yet.” A goofy grin tore through the dark prince’s face as he weighed the possibilities of how that problem could be rectified.

The air inside seemed to have cooled, but Elijah felt otherwise. He saw the grin on Lucien. His eyes had widened a fraction upon seeing that. “Unless you loved that kind of business, too, then you are no whore.” He propped himself up by the elbows, eyes squinting at the ceiling. “Soon enough you will find what you are fond of.” His lips curled as he looked back at him.

Lucien didn’t need to vocalize that his time in Hell was wholly and completely torture from beginning to end, constant, sleepless, unending pain. There was no need to reiterate how much it hurt, it would only make him seem obsessed, or weak. Saying it was Hell was enough.

“Are you going to help me figure it out, or just keep looking at me like that?”

Elijah blinked for a second, his smile faded. “How frank. I can do the latter and that will be satisfying enough. And remember, I killed you. Aren’t you afraid I can do it again?” His smile was replaced with a smirk. “Or we can forget about the blood and murder.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to forget about blood and murder only to be ogled.” His displeasure tipped his scale, shooting a pierce through his heart. He collected his hair and held it all in until the scale balanced once more.

Rejection stung more than any torture. It hung in his eyelids, pushing him to suddenly realize his exhaustion, which  pushed him down into his bed by his shoulders. Lucien flinched into a shrug.


Previous Next


 

Welcome to the Lucien and Elijah serial by Aubrey Meeks and Julienne 

The accompanying illustration was done by Aegisdea and I couldn’t be happier!

Stay tuned for more of Elijah and Lucien tomorrow!

Lucien and Abomination Boys characters and writing © Aubrey “Meeks” Brown 2015

Elijah and writing © Julienne 2015

When they met… Abomination Boy and Half a Prince Part 11

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“Elijah. You know, I’m surprised you aren’t familiar with the eating habits of Children of Lilith.” Lucien called from the landing. His trousers hung low on his thin hips, and he was still determined to keep his shirt from swinging open and exposing more stories he didn’t want to tell. Lucien leaned back into the shadows and continued to stumble to his bedroom for a new shirt.

Elijah let out a dry chuckle and rose from his chair. He walked to the stairs to follow Lucien and defend his words. It wasn’t pity he felt, for Elijah had never known pity, just balanced good faith in his part. He couldn’t care less about anything else other than his own well-being, but he was a man of honor, and he knew he did wrong and admitted his mistake.

He managed to steal a glance at Natalie and Dahlia on the kitchen, and they barely saw him glower at them. They were already sipping in their wine, lost in entertaining chat. He went up the stairs, his steps silent.

He found Lucien’s bedroom, the door left open. He leaned sideways on the door frame as he watched Lucien fumble on clothes. “I used to be familiar with your eating habits. Unfortunately, it’s been a decade or two since I last encountered some Children of Lilith. They don’t really bother me as much as hellhounds. But you’re different from them.” He observed Lucien’s bedroom. “Do you take showers? Read classic books? As for popular culture, I have watched Titanic and Terminator. They’re quite magnificent films, but I prefer the opera where they performed Hamlet and Macbeth back in the 19th century. Your bedroom could use some cleaning, and your frayed clothes should be burned to hell, just a suggestion.” He grinned, enjoying a shy Lucien. “Perhaps you need some sleep for your exhausted mind.”

“What are you?” Lucien forced a smile and backed two skittish steps away from Elijah. “And what sort of question is, do you take showers?” He pushed his fears down, buried them deep. He advanced on Elijah and absorbed the close proximity to him, felt his breath on his cheek. “I take showers, I steal books, I’ve never had to clean my room before, and I drink blood.” Lucien was quickly learning that humans couldn’t waste the effort in acknowledging nuances in things different from themselves. So when Lucien said he drank blood, the first thing anyone thought was that he must be a vampire. That wasn’t true at all. He simply bore the mark of fallen angels, those who drank blood could be anything. Lucien was simply a black eyed child made to bring demons to the earth. He wasn’t allergic to the sun, didn’t die in the morning. He didn’t hate garlic, or need a wooden stake to die. He was just a halfling who craved blood when the demonic blood ran through his veins quicker than the angel blood.

“Does that make you want to kill me? That I’m a thief, otherwise deprived of culture? And a slovenly whore who can’t clean a room?” Lucien growled. He pressed on, hissing into Elijah’s ear, wanting him to degrade him like he knew he deserved.

“What about the blood drinking bit? Doesn’t that make you want to just rip my throat out?” Drinking blood sure made Lucien want to rip his own throat out. It made him fall off the edge, it gave his demon power. It turned him into something that didn’t even want to murder Lilith and burn Hell to ash. “I’d rather starve than be a soulless fallen angel who drinks blood. I’d rather starve.

Elijah leaned closer and inched his face close to Lucien. “You think you drinking blood bothers me at all? My father brought upon all the knowledge of war and weapons in this world, everything men can use to slaughter themselves. Trust me, he enjoys every bit of explosions and seeing dismembered bodies, the blood that trickled down the blades of Greeks as they fought with the Persians. He had loved the sight of the concentration camps back in Hitler’s time.  If he can see now what terrorists do, he’s going to be extremely proud of how his work had spread so far. You drinking blood doesn’t bother me at all, no.”

He pursed his lips in a thin line, eyes scanning Lucien from head to toe. “You want me to be appalled by you. It’s not happening. My questions were formed solely from mere curiosity. Why, Lucien, does my intrusiveness bother you?” He curved his lips in a cunning smile and straightened back. “Why would I be repulsed by your drinking, if that’s how you survive? I kill demons and their human slaves. That’s how I survive. Are you repulsed?”

Lucien’s black bottomless-pits got lost in the warmth of Elijah’s brown eyes. Invitations wafted from his pale skin from inside the boundaries of Lucien’s personal space.

Lucien straightened the protective barrier his hunched shoulders made around him, giving him just an inch above Elijah’s already tall frame.

“No.” He said, easing himself just close enough to feel the electricity of coming almost too close to Elijah’s lips.

He replaced the curve to his shoulders and slid away like smoke through Elijah’s fingers.


 

PreviousNext


 

Welcome to the Lucien and Elijah serial by Aubrey Meeks and Julienne 

The accompanying illustration was done by Aegisdea and I couldn’t be happier!

Stay tuned for more of Elijah and Lucien tomorrow!

Lucien and Abomination Boys characters and writing © Aubrey “Meeks” Brown 2015

Elijah and writing © Julienne 2015

 

When they met… Abomination Boy and Half a Prince Part 10

Lucien and Elijah Header“Though, since we are on the subject, I am well versed in both the kindness and unkindness of humans, I have Dahlia, and that boy you shot me for. He’s been trying to steal my horns to sell the bone off to one of his buddies. He thinks he can get a good price for them, I suppose.” Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Were you looking to save that guy or just shoot any demon halfling that came along?”

Laugh burst out from Elijah. He craned his neck back and drank in Lucien’s inquiry. “I slay any demon that attacks me. I don’t have any intentions of saving a human. It’s a waste of sweat. I approached you because I had sensed something strange in you that I cannot decipher well. A lot of demons are after me, and I cannot let anyone be one step ahead of me in that matter.” He met Lucien’s eyes, and they fastened their stares just a breath too long, only Dahlia and Natalie’s voices from the kitchen cut them out. “Either way, I will keep my eye on you until I am certain you won’t be a threat to me.”

Lucien was sure that was some sort of threat, but when compared to the way Lilith kept her eyes on him, it was an empty one at best.

“Elijah. Honestly, how many people have I injured since you’ve met me?” He asked through fits of boisterous laughter. He hid his unnaturally white smile behind his hand and bit down on his knuckle to try and be a bit more respectful. Droplets of blood slipped through some sloppy wounds scattered across his chest.

That stopped him. Elijah widened his eyes a fraction. He opened his mouth to speak, but came away with nothing. “Well,” a shrug. “You’ve hurt insentient things, the mailbox, Dahlia’s van, the ground you fell upon. I may say, doesn’t have insurance.” A smile cursed his lips. He scrutinized Lucien – his tattered clothes, his horns, the dark eyes, and the scars that marked his body.

“Ah, I see. I didn’t know we were in a Disney movie. I can also paint with all the colors of the wind, and sing with all the voices of the mountains.” Lucien snorted. “I’ll try not to insult anymore mailboxes, lest they have feelings.” He became vaguely aware of Elijah’s gaze. His chest felt hot under the burn of Elijah’s eyes.

“What?” He crossed his arms over his chest and saved himself from squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

“You must lack sleep. The mountains don’t have voices,” Elijah’s brows creased. “The wind is colorless, and we are not in some movie.” He pressed his fingers on his temple, his head throbbing. “Do you even sleep, or eat? What are those scars? Are they from battle?”

“Elijah, I live in Hell, and even I’ve seen Pocahantas.” He dismissed Elijah’s ignorance toward human popular culture as more of a choice, since he held humans with such high regard.

Lucien’s eyes drifted to join Elijah’s line of sight. “Battles? Nah. I really did live in a cage. Most of these are experiments.” He shrugged. “These things are like the ones you saw before, with the cursed iron.” He traced lines over the flat plains of his pecs. “These are just from whippings because I sabotaged a mission.” He flicked his fingers dismissively over a thrashing group of scars over his abdomen.

“And these bruises, I got from being a whore. More or less.” He covered himself up, tugging his lips into a smirk when he didn’t want to. His hands raked his tousled hair, pulled it back, pushed it to the side… all nervous ticks. He looked up and folded his hands across his chest, suddenly feeling awkward and shy. “But don’t go spreading that last bit, I have a reputation to protect.” This smile was even more pathetic than the last. He picked at his fingers like he was bored, when his mind was moving a mile a minute, and not in a psychotic demon way.

“No need to agonize.” Elijah’s lips thinned. “I won’t be publicizing your biography.” Somehow, guilt had formed in his chest. Had he ignored his pleading before, Lucien shouldn’t have had to take a gunshot. Elijah should lack empathy, that was what he kept reminding himself. Empathy was for the weak. Feelings should be set aside, yet he couldn’t ignore how culpable feeling boiling in him. With a sigh, he said, “My apologies for the bullet in your head. Don’t think this will change anything. I just now happen to discern that you don’t earn death by my hands. Tolerating your suicidal behavior was a mistake I made.”

“Don’t pity me, Elijah.” Lucien said with a bit more arrogance than he had hoped would be injected into his voice. “Not for the scars, or the suicide, or the time I spent unable to decide who did what with my body.” He could pity himself enough on his own and pretend it wasn’t so.

Lucien stood on shaky legs. He tried to keep his t-shirt closed as he stomped towards the stairs.


 

PreviousNext


 

Welcome to the Lucien and Elijah serial by Aubrey Meeks and Julienne 

The accompanying illustration was done by Aegisdea and I couldn’t be happier!

Stay tuned for more of Elijah and Lucien tomorrow!

Lucien and Abomination Boys characters and writing © Aubrey “Meeks” Brown 2015

Elijah and writing © Julienne 2015

When they met… Abomination Boy and Half a Prince Part 9

Lucien and Elijah Header

Listening to Lucien was like listening to an escaped prisoner of war. Elijah had witnessed both World Wars unfold, and he’d seen humans breakdown, crease in unadulterated misery. He hadn’t molded himself with them. His father loved the large scale massacre, using weapons he had paraded for humanity to know. He leaned back on his seat and draped an arm behind the chair.

“I don’t suppose there would be many who would love to take you, but Dahlia looks like she’s going to assist you because you are dear to her.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. Talking about feelings was the last thing Elijah wanted, but this Lucien appeared to need some of it. “Are there many of you? Your brother, is he like you?”

“I dunno, I think I’m a bit more of a project to her. She’s a great girl, and I appreciate what she’s done. I just don’t know about being particularly dear to her.” Lucien smirked. He didn’t think he was dear to anyone. Better to keep palling around with Dahlia than to be out on the street where kids strike you down to sell your bones.

“Ehhhh. My brother. I have two. I think. Lilith calls me three and Mal two, so we always assumed there was another.” Lucien winced again, a pierce of clumpy demons blood was making its way to his heart and the only thing it did was lay a trail of piercing pricks the entire way to his heart. He braced himself.

Lucien doubled over, clutching his heart, and his face contorted. Deep creases slashed his brow as the prickly clot entered his heart in one beat and out the next. His body relaxed through the aftershocks, what would have killed a human just made Lucien feel like he was drowning.

“Sorry.” He breathed heavily, still doubled over with his head between his legs.

He straightened up. Usually he had this charade all covered, his pain was well hidden because there’s no pity in Hell. He hated the way his lean and fit body juxtaposed his sickly reality.

“Your wretched life is one I can understand.” Elijah heaved a sigh. He hadn’t seen his own life as years full of rainbows, but his father had been proud of him, had flaunted him to the other demons as his ferocious weapon. He hadn’t experienced being degraded by his own parent. He raked his hair with his fingers, pushing away strands of waves from his forehead. “You must keep a low profile and refrain yourself from displaying in the public. Humans can be as uncharitable as demons, or unbending as the angels. You are fortunate to have someone take care of you, but may I suggest that you care of your well-being as part of gratitude for Dahlia and for your own life. Would you want demons to cackle at your wasted life?”

He fumbled for his phone and fished it out from his pocket. He flipped it over and over in his hands. “I know a demon who can probe about your condition.” He curled his lips up. “In recompense to what I did to you.”

Lucien’s body took an exasperated plunge into the cushions. “I dunno if I’m into being probed just yet.” Lucien smirked. Smiling and smirking didn’t keep him from pulling a cushion up past his navel to cover the bruising at his hips. “Is that really necessary?  I asked you for that bullet. Don’t feel obligated to fix something I asked for.” Lucien tensed. How could he mind being this way when it was all he knew?


Previous Next


 

Welcome to the Lucien and Elijah serial by Aubrey Meeks and Julienne 

The accompanying illustration was done by Aegisdea and I couldn’t be happier!

Stay tuned for more of Elijah and Lucien tomorrow!

Well now, they seem to be behaving…

Lucien and Abomination Boys characters and writing © Aubrey “Meeks” Brown 2015

Elijah and writing © Julienne 2015

Abomination Boy and Half a Prince Part 7

Lucien and Elijah Header

After a long staring competition with Natalie, Elijah hauled Lucien and threw him over his shoulder. The angel/demon was featherlight. He still smelled faintly of blood, even after his wounds had been healed and sealed. Elijah wondered what was wrong with him with his suicidal tendencies. Elijah had lived for centuries without the will to die. Even if he’d gone through excruciating years of insipid torment, he had never thought of killing himself.

Dahlia lead them to her van. She helped Elijah guide Lucien into the back seat and dove into the front.

It took only minutes to get them to her house, and in those minutes, Lucien went from zombie, to sitting upright with one horn tapping against the glass with the bumps in the potholed road.

He staggered from the parked van and swerved to the left and into the mailbox, catching it for support.

Natalie helped him out, striding fast to him and holding his arm. Elijah was there in lightning speed, telling her, “It’s best I help him instead of you. We don’t know how stable he is at the moment. You might get hurt.”

Natalie didn’t argue with Elijah about it. She went with Dahlia while Elijah aided Lucien, keeping him from stumbling on the ground.

Dahlia fumbled for her keys and held the door open for the two boys. The house was enormous, much too big for just one girl to be living in all by herself. But the grand entrance stood still in the dark with no trace of a family photo or stray pair of shoes to suggest anyone lived there other than Dahlia. She closed the door behind the boys and nodded in the direction of a ultra plush sofa in front of the window. “Does anyone want some wine? I think we could all use it.” She eyed Elijah as he helped Lucien to the sofa, then glanced hopefully at Natalie.

Natalie perched on the chair’s arm for a moment. “That will be great.” She sliced a glance at Elijah, made sure he wasn’t going to shoot Lucien again. “I definitely need a glass,” she told Dahlia and went with her in the kitchen.

Elijah plopped on the seat close to Lucien’s, snapping out the gun from his waistband and dropping it on the mid-table. He could hear Natalie and Dahlia’s voices from the kitchen, but other than their wine voices, the house was quiet. He crossed his legs and focused on Lucien. “Are you in the right condition to talk sense?”

Lucien glanced up at Elijah through his endlessly black eyes. He pulled the tattered bits of his t-shirt closed with little success, after trying once he couldn’t care enough about his bare chest. He reclined into the sofa and placed his hands over his heart like he were trying to gauge just how alive he really was.

“I suppose so. Tell the girls if I beg you to kill me again.” He didn’t smile, not even the ghost of a smile cracked against his pale lips.

“I’m not really the kind of person who’ll defend himself in a crime he willingly committed.” Elijah leaned sideways on the seat, propping his chin on his fist. “It baffles me, eternal creatures wishing for death? What has gone in that mind of yours?” Demons and angels, rarely had Elijah encountered ones who called for death, none until now. “Why do you wish to perish when your life is everlasting?”

Lucien played with the fraying bits of his shirt. “I actually don’t know if I am actually immortal.”


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Welcome to the Lucien and Elijah serial by Aubrey Meeks and Julienne 

The accompanying illustration was done by Aegisdea and I couldn’t be happier!

Stay tuned for more of Elijah and Lucien tomorrow!

HE’S UP! What’s going to happen as Lucien faces his attacker?

Lucien and Abomination Boys characters and writing © Aubrey “Meeks” Brown 2015

Elijah and writing © Julienne 2015