Teaser for "The Heir"
Hello all! It's been a month since I finished posting "The Consort," so I thought I'd just post a little check-in and a teaser to make sure y'all don't forget me and the upcoming sequel, which has a working title of "The Heir," although I'm considering changing it because yawn, boring.
Thank you to anybody who nominated me, because "The Consort" is up for Best Het Fic in round 3 of the fiction awards! In fact...it seems to be the only nominee. But it's still an honor! "Soon" was also nominated for Best Drama.
Progress on "The Heir" is coming along very well. In the month since I finished Consort, I've written a little over half, although I did suffer a technology-related setback last week which caused me to lose about twenty pages of work, so that was a little depressing. But I think I'm on track to start posting before the holidays, maybe even before the TM one-year anniversary.
Beneath the cut is a short teaser scene from the opening pages of "The Heir."
DG turned this way and that in front of the mirror, examining herself from every angle. “I think my boobs are bigger,” she said.
Cain came out of the dressing room, tying his tie. “I believe I’m the most qualified person to assess that,” he said, his tone conveying nothing short of absolute seriousness.
“Hey, I’ve been wearing them since I was thirteen, I think that makes me the expert.”
“Ah, but how much time do you spend touching them?”
“All right then, Mr. Boob Expert, you tell me if they’re bigger.”
He sighed in mock exasperation. “The things I suffer,” he murmured, stepping to her side. He cupped her breast, making an exaggerated thoughtful face while DG smirked. “Hmmm. I’m not sure,” he said, speaking very slowly, his hand massaging her breast.
“Now you’re just looking for an excuse to feel me up.”
“Didn’t know I needed one,” he said, kissing her temple and dropping his hand. “I don’t think they’re any bigger.”
She looked at herself again, dressed in just her panties and stockings. Finally she shrugged. “There’s no two ways about it. I am just not showing yet.”
“You’re only three months along, sweetheart.”
“I could be showing!”
“You’re not, though.”
“Yeah, I know. One of my books said that sometimes it doesn’t show forever and then all of a sudden, overnight, my belly will pop out and there’ll be a bump.” She bit her lip before she could ask him if it had been like that for Adora. She’d been doing her best to avoid asking him questions like that, which left her a bit starved for pregnancy confidantes. Her own mother was gone, Emily had certainly never had a baby, and Az got a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look whenever the topic came up. Books were helpful and informative, but a book couldn’t commiserate with her or hold her hand and reassure her that everything would be okay.
“You know, I get the feeling most women don’t want the bump so much,” Cain said.
“Oh, what do you know? Being pregnant is supposed to be making me feel all special and womanly and like I’m fulfilling some grand biological destiny, but you can’t even tell. I don’t feel pregnant. I haven’t even had morning sickness.”
“Well, take my advice and keep that to yourself. If you’re overheard complaining about not being sick, the rest of the women in the world may show up to smack you around.”
DG picked up the dress she was wearing to the evening’s event, a glamorous, deep red evening gown with a draped neck and a low-cut back. It was brand new, a gift from a designer she’d met at Receiving a few weeks back, and she loved it. She slid it on over her head and shrugged it into place. Cain came over to fasten her up without needing to be asked.
She met his eyes in the mirror. “I ought to warn you about something.”
“What’s that?”
“I know how you feel about people addressing me properly.”
“Yes?” His eyebrow was arching.
“I had Elspeth send a note to everyone who’s been invited to the dedication, instructing them that for tonight, I am to be addressed as ‘Mrs. Cain,’ and that I’m to be treated as the wife of the honoree, no more.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “That is entirely inappropriate.”
“No, it isn’t. I am Mrs. Cain!”
“You’re the Queen first. You should be addressed as ‘Your Majesty.’”
“Not tonight.” She turned around and began retying his tie. “Cain, for once we’re going to an event that isn’t about me, it’s about you. You’re the guest of honor. They named this building after you not because you’re my Consort, but because of your career as a Tin Man, and what you did during the Resistance, and all the support you’ve given the Academy over the years.”
“Don’t kid yourself. If I’d done everything you just said but was not your Consort, there’s no way I’d have a building named after me.”
She sighed. “Just go with me on this, okay? We go to a million events where I’m the Queen and that’s the reason we’re there, and you stand at my side with my hand on your elbow and smile and talk, even though I know you hate it, while a hundred people pay attention to me. Can you please just let me do that for you, once? I’m not going to this dedication because I’m the Queen, I’m going because it’s in your honor and I’m your wife and I’m proud of you, and I just want to hang on your arm all night and look pretty and bask in your reflected glory while everybody bows down to how awesome you are.” She finished his tie, pulled on it a little to adjust it, and nodded.
Cain stared down at her, blinking. He looked a little gobsmacked. Finally, he just reached out and pulled her against his chest. “You are something else, you know that, kiddo?”
She smiled. “I’m the Queen every day. No one ever lets me forget it. I just want to be Mrs. Cain tonight, okay?”
He pulled back and nodded, touching her face. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“Actually, I want to throw you down and molest you, but I don’t think we havetime.”
He checked his watch. “We have…eight minutes.” They looked at each other. Finally, Cain threw up his hands. “Oh, to hell with it. It’s not like they can start without me.”
Thank you to anybody who nominated me, because "The Consort" is up for Best Het Fic in round 3 of the fiction awards! In fact...it seems to be the only nominee. But it's still an honor! "Soon" was also nominated for Best Drama.
Progress on "The Heir" is coming along very well. In the month since I finished Consort, I've written a little over half, although I did suffer a technology-related setback last week which caused me to lose about twenty pages of work, so that was a little depressing. But I think I'm on track to start posting before the holidays, maybe even before the TM one-year anniversary.
Beneath the cut is a short teaser scene from the opening pages of "The Heir."
DG turned this way and that in front of the mirror, examining herself from every angle. “I think my boobs are bigger,” she said.
Cain came out of the dressing room, tying his tie. “I believe I’m the most qualified person to assess that,” he said, his tone conveying nothing short of absolute seriousness.
“Hey, I’ve been wearing them since I was thirteen, I think that makes me the expert.”
“Ah, but how much time do you spend touching them?”
“All right then, Mr. Boob Expert, you tell me if they’re bigger.”
He sighed in mock exasperation. “The things I suffer,” he murmured, stepping to her side. He cupped her breast, making an exaggerated thoughtful face while DG smirked. “Hmmm. I’m not sure,” he said, speaking very slowly, his hand massaging her breast.
“Now you’re just looking for an excuse to feel me up.”
“Didn’t know I needed one,” he said, kissing her temple and dropping his hand. “I don’t think they’re any bigger.”
She looked at herself again, dressed in just her panties and stockings. Finally she shrugged. “There’s no two ways about it. I am just not showing yet.”
“You’re only three months along, sweetheart.”
“I could be showing!”
“You’re not, though.”
“Yeah, I know. One of my books said that sometimes it doesn’t show forever and then all of a sudden, overnight, my belly will pop out and there’ll be a bump.” She bit her lip before she could ask him if it had been like that for Adora. She’d been doing her best to avoid asking him questions like that, which left her a bit starved for pregnancy confidantes. Her own mother was gone, Emily had certainly never had a baby, and Az got a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look whenever the topic came up. Books were helpful and informative, but a book couldn’t commiserate with her or hold her hand and reassure her that everything would be okay.
“You know, I get the feeling most women don’t want the bump so much,” Cain said.
“Oh, what do you know? Being pregnant is supposed to be making me feel all special and womanly and like I’m fulfilling some grand biological destiny, but you can’t even tell. I don’t feel pregnant. I haven’t even had morning sickness.”
“Well, take my advice and keep that to yourself. If you’re overheard complaining about not being sick, the rest of the women in the world may show up to smack you around.”
DG picked up the dress she was wearing to the evening’s event, a glamorous, deep red evening gown with a draped neck and a low-cut back. It was brand new, a gift from a designer she’d met at Receiving a few weeks back, and she loved it. She slid it on over her head and shrugged it into place. Cain came over to fasten her up without needing to be asked.
She met his eyes in the mirror. “I ought to warn you about something.”
“What’s that?”
“I know how you feel about people addressing me properly.”
“Yes?” His eyebrow was arching.
“I had Elspeth send a note to everyone who’s been invited to the dedication, instructing them that for tonight, I am to be addressed as ‘Mrs. Cain,’ and that I’m to be treated as the wife of the honoree, no more.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “That is entirely inappropriate.”
“No, it isn’t. I am Mrs. Cain!”
“You’re the Queen first. You should be addressed as ‘Your Majesty.’”
“Not tonight.” She turned around and began retying his tie. “Cain, for once we’re going to an event that isn’t about me, it’s about you. You’re the guest of honor. They named this building after you not because you’re my Consort, but because of your career as a Tin Man, and what you did during the Resistance, and all the support you’ve given the Academy over the years.”
“Don’t kid yourself. If I’d done everything you just said but was not your Consort, there’s no way I’d have a building named after me.”
She sighed. “Just go with me on this, okay? We go to a million events where I’m the Queen and that’s the reason we’re there, and you stand at my side with my hand on your elbow and smile and talk, even though I know you hate it, while a hundred people pay attention to me. Can you please just let me do that for you, once? I’m not going to this dedication because I’m the Queen, I’m going because it’s in your honor and I’m your wife and I’m proud of you, and I just want to hang on your arm all night and look pretty and bask in your reflected glory while everybody bows down to how awesome you are.” She finished his tie, pulled on it a little to adjust it, and nodded.
Cain stared down at her, blinking. He looked a little gobsmacked. Finally, he just reached out and pulled her against his chest. “You are something else, you know that, kiddo?”
She smiled. “I’m the Queen every day. No one ever lets me forget it. I just want to be Mrs. Cain tonight, okay?”
He pulled back and nodded, touching her face. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“Actually, I want to throw you down and molest you, but I don’t think we havetime.”
He checked his watch. “We have…eight minutes.” They looked at each other. Finally, Cain threw up his hands. “Oh, to hell with it. It’s not like they can start without me.”