So, this is my first of the month update. Royal Indiscretion (contemporary m/m) is being a pain. I have some good dialogue written for when two protagonists actually start talking to each other, but right now it’s hard to force them into the same space without making them out of character. I often introduce a new character when a plot gets stuck, but adding in the sober sponsor Nick didn’t really help. Someone may get hurt soon. That often forces people to talk.
The Witness (mystery/kink adaptation of my Sentinel fanfic) is on a short break because I have too many plots going at once, and I needed to choose Royal Indiscretion or The Witness Wears a Puppy Tail. Doing both was hurting my head. Too many voices up there at once, ya know.
Saddled (contemporary kink m/m) is going hot and strong. While this started as pretty strictly pony kink, it is quickly developing one hell of a plot. When I’m done, I think I may send this over to MLR Press. However, I have to get John out of danger, navigate the relationship problems between John and Clive, save momma, deal with a drug addicted brother, and figure out how to get two stubborn alpha males to admit they’re in love. Yeah, I got a ways to go.
But as usual, my muse is always tempting me with new thoughts. Once Saddled is done, I’m thinking about two options.
Earth Fathers are Weird focuses on a pilot who took to the skies to fight off an alien invasion-or what Earth thought was an invasion. It was actually the equivalent of a high speed chase that spilled into undeveloped space. When his jet was shot, the alien authorities scooped him up to prevent his death. And when the chase was over, he was dropped at a very nice interplanetary port. The computers can mostly translate English. Sort of. And he can interface enough to see how much a ship would charge him to take him back to Earth. If he took a job helping refine the translator function, he could afford a ticket in roughly three hundred years. A job entry for what he thought was a nanny could get him home in seven to eight years. He might have mistranslated “nanny,” though.
Yes, this would be tentacle sex, although I don't think the tentacles would get much out of it. Our pilot might like it more than he is comfortable admitting, though. And of course if it's a male pilot and an alien tentacle, I'm sure you can guess what trope fatherhood would require.
Loyalty Betrayed is about a covert ops specialist. He’s run his own team for nearly a decade and had an on-again, off-again relationship with the team interrogator/psychologist. However, he is beginning to fear that their team is being misused in the worst ways. When he gets a warning to get out, he runs without looking back. However, he’s not willing to leave his lover. And even if he did, the man knows him well enough to act as birddog for the government agents trailing him. So our hero makes a horrible choice out of a desire to avoid an even worse one. When his friend comes for him, he knows the government will send killers to finish the job. So he sets a trap, grabs his lover, and decides to use what he learned about psychology and brainwashing to tie his lover’s allegiance to him. Only then will he feel safe to unravel the conspiracies working to turn his government against him.
This would be a lot darker. Good people would do terrible things to each other. I would have to be in a certain mood to write this one, but current politics makes that possible.
I think politics is why my current fanfic is dark. Over at AO3 I am writing another part to my Igigi series. It brings Atlantis into current day events. The city is starting to chafe under IOC control and a partial outting of the Stargate program makes them eager to redefine their relationship with earth. You can read that here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841587/chapters/34353377 So, that’s me. Oh, and I am an amateur with book covers, so if anyone has feedback (especially anyone with the actual experience or expertise I lack), I would greatly appreciate it.
Does anyone want a free short?
Introduction to Xenolinguistics
Debbie studied the sea of fresh-faced babies. For a time, she panned the vid so her office screen would show her the entire class. She could already divide them into rough camps based on their seat choices and expressions. Proxemics, oculesics, and kinesics weren’t covered until much later in their training, so right now they exerted absolutely no control over how their bodies were shouting without even using words.
The three young men and two women in front were either serious students or wanted to present themselves as serious students. They were busy with their tablets, and Debbie’s monitoring program reported that all five were reviewing the class text. A small group near the window chatted away, their bodies twitching with sexual interest. Nothing wrong with that as long as they focused on the work once Debbie started the lecture.
A range of less confident students filled the middle section. Debbie groaned when she saw that two of them were reading Lost Words: The Unauthorized Biography of Lieutenant Liam Munson. Shit. That piece sensationalized Munson’s life-made him out to be some poor wounded soul abandoned by the system and abused by the authorities in his life.
Debbie had no idea how anyone could fall for the crap the modern press put out. Munson was a linguistic genius who had made the rare leap out of his culturally enforced point of view into the Rownt perspective. Leaps in translation could only be made after someone had navigated that chasm, and to reduce Munson’s contribution to luck and some lost puppy personality was incredibly offensive. The man had studied Rownt language before taking the post on Prarownt and had then spent years working to collect language samples and form relationships with natives.
His willingness to immerse himself in a new culture opened opportunities for the entire human race. The popular media might be fascinated with the Rownt because of a few vid shots of a female visiting a hospital and the young male clearly trying to protect Lieutenant Munson in a crowd. However, those involved in Command were more interested in the technology and raw materials the Rownt could provide. They were certainly better potential allies than the Anla. And Munson made all that possible.
She made a note of which students were reading that trash in her classroom. They would have to show much more dedication to linguistics if they wanted to follow in Munson’s footsteps. Assuming that an alien species would feel sorry for you and take you home was stupid. And Debbie did not like wasting her time on stupid students.
She turned her monitor off and sighed. Time for one more semester of teaching people who could never hope to achieve the genius of Colonel Diallo or Lieutenant Munson. Sometimes she regretted ever becoming a teacher. However, someone had to set the next generation of linguists on the path, and that was her sacrifice.