LOL, okay, Love doesn't really suck... but I am happy. My short story LOVE SUCKS has been accepted by Erotic Dreams Publishing for their January 2007 issue!
Jo left his world behind to be with the one he loved. Now he must return, and leave that all behind in order to save his heart—or lose his heritage forever.
The vice-lord was nowhere to be seen, and that suited Jo just fine. He slid a hand along an alabaster railing that led to the chambers on the top floor, then turned and walked across the grand entry into the quiet, shade-darkened living room.
Jo poured a generous helping of deep red wine, and settled into a cushioned chair to wait for the awakening. He’d left Dew at sundown. The trip across town only took a moment using long abandoned skills for flight and stealth. Even the short exertion left him feeling exhausted. He sighed and drank half the glass before squinting in the fading dim light of the room at the exquisite features of luxury that Dachalo had to offer.
“It’s not so bad here, is it, Jonah?”
Jo cringed at the sound of the long unused name, and the sickeningly sweet voice that wafted through the air delivering the question. He glanced out the side of his eye and studied the tall, slender figure silhouetted in the doorframe. The fading sunlight that managed to weave its way through the thick shades glowed in a surreal dance on the long blonde locks that framed stark Cyrillic features. Darker than obsidian eyes bore a hole in his very soul from across the room and made Jo squirm in his chair.
“I must admit, liebnick, I did not expect to see you again.” Lord Nicolia swept across the room, his expression turned to stone cold indifference in spite of endearing names. At the bar he poured himself a glass of clear liquid and held it up in a salute. “Nastroviya.”
Jo held his own glass up. “Yeah, yeah… your health, too.” Not like he really cared if the old fart keeled over right that moment, or not.
“Welcome to my humble home.”
“It’s still my home, too. Is it not?”
Nicolai studied him, then a grin spread across his lips, opening just slightly to reveal the long, pointed teeth. The teeth that had eternally enslaved Jo to him. Eternally imprisoned him to the passion. Captive to lust, and desire that no rapture could fulfill. His thoughts didn’t go unnoticed by his Lord, and Jo scowled at the smirk that replaced the smile on Nicolai’s features.
Thin fingers ran though Jo’s hair. He felt the stroke long before the man reached his side. Subtle trick of empowerment. He steeled himself against the will that wanted his mind to bend to it. The familiar power play, even after thirty years flashed back fresh and new from a locked away memory.
“Don’t fight it, milochka…my darling.”
A heavy lump formed in Jo’s throat and he fought to swallow back the emotional turmoil. Sweat formed on his brow as his master bent and his lips touched the top of his head.
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