Do all writers love the rain? I do. The constant patter of sloppy drops on the window, the chilly gusts rattling the blossoms off the trees, gives me permission to ignore the weeds, the foot high grass, the drooping limbs in need of trim, to hole up with a cup of tea and write, write, write. If you’re a writer who loves the rain, nothing beats Oregon in the springtime! Back to the snippet–at last, the warrior arrives, M’lan’s ultimate challenge. Here’s a little eye candy to wet your whistle.
Touch of Salar
Cobwebs clearing from his mind, M’lan hurried to wipe down the soft-padded table in the middle of the room with essential oils and snapped out a fresh cloth to smooth on top of it. Today he was to begin the healing process on a new patient. For the sake of secrecy and discretion, patients were referred to by title. Today’s client, if spoken to, was to be addressed as Major. He was male, twenty-eight passages of age, and had been in the intensive-care ward of the temple for three weeks.
The entry chimes sounded, and M’lan bowed his head, as was custom when nobility entered. The patient wore a black silk robe, head covered with a hood. He moved with an easy grace and a lightness of foot, unlike most of the warriors M’lan worked on, who tended to be heavyset and muscle-bound.
This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress. Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both. It’s a great way to discover your next favorite book. Click here or copy & paste this address: http://www.wewriwa.com
About Touch of Salar, soon to be released by Loose Id.
Touch of Salar is a high fantasy, m/m erotic romance. In the kingdom of Rakkan, in a culture ruled by gods, mystical orders and magic, a young monk with the ability to channel the healing powers of the god Salar falls in love with a wounded warrior he knows only as The Major. Relations between the classes are forbidden, and things become even more complicated when the monk discovers that the man he is obsessed with is a king’s assassin. If M’lan is found out, he will be put to death, possibly by the Major himself.