Release Day!
Sep. 29th, 2013 09:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdWe're getting into my Fall release burst and kicking off today with
"Fruits of thine."
http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/FruitsThine.html
Carla is an ordinary receptionist with an ordinary life. But an unexpected corporate retreat and an extraordinary encounter with a very interesting lover, leave her changed in ways that mean her life cannot fit her any more.
They walked down the well-paved path, following the trail of solar-powered lights that marked the edges. The rock jutted out over the valley, in a clearing well away from the trees. Carla sat, looked up, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
The sky was huge out here, big and black and full of cold white stars that twinkled down at her. Vertigo took her head and she lay down, covering her eyes.
“Oh, it’s a splendid view. I haven’t seen them like this since I was in Wyoming.”
“Going all Brokeback and shit?” Carla asked, automatically.
“Horses, not sheep, dear girl. But I have had my wilderness experiences. Open your eyes, Carla. You’re going to miss it. I had no idea it was time for a meteor shower.”
Carla looked up. She could handle some of the sky, just not all at once.
Vince pointed to the northeast. “There is Perseus. I didn’t know it was time for the Perseid shower.”
She looked in the general direction he had pointed and saw two meteors streak across the sky. “Pretty.”
“There will be more. Do you know your stars?”
“Not really. I knew some when I was a kid.” She pointed up. “That’s the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and the North Star…oh, and Cassiopia like a big W and Bootes like an ice-cream cone. But the only other one I know is Orion, and he’s just up in the winter.”
“You’re three ahead of most people.” Vince gestured to the meteors. “That’s Perseus.” He traced the outline. “The one there is a binary star, called the Gorgon’s head or Algol. The name is Arabic and means The Ghoul. It’s considered a very bad omen. The big square there”—he showed it to her—“is Pegasus, his winged stallion.”
“I had a poster with a winged unicorn when I was a kid.”
“You, me, and every other little girl of a certain age.” Vince gave her a wicked smile. “Mine was in my closet because my father was terrified I was gay and giving me ‘girly shit’ would only encourage it. He was unsurprised, yet still completely aghast when I came out at eighteen.”
“Parents,” Carla sighed. “My mom’s on me to get married. She’s thinking I’m no prize and can’t afford to be picky.”
Vince looked at her. “A brilliant, lovely, intimidating girl like you should have your pick.”
“Vince, stop. I know what I look like. I know exactly what men think about me. I’m over thirty and I’m fat. I must be an easy lay, but they’d be ashamed to be seen with me by daylight. And I know I don’t want one who is easily intimidated. A few of those have dated me and they tend to be a little”—she scrunched her nose, trying to be tactful—“kinkier than I like.”
“Kinkier than you like or kinky in ways you don’t like?”
Damn, Vince could see through everything. No wonder he was one of the best at recruiting. She remembered meeting him the day she had come for an interview. He’d been charming and nice and asked sharply pointed questions that all the Internet interview tips hadn’t prepared her for. She’d never known why he had hired her, especially since she had lost her temper and told him one of his questions was patently illegal, racist, sexist, and discriminatory. He had laughed and agreed.
“That’s personal,” she said.
“Just us girls out here on the rock under the stars and Perseus swinging his big old sword dripping meteors in our direction,” Vince teased. His camp was wearing thin, but she went with it. “We’re going to be fired by the end of the week and I’ll never tell.”
“They’re kinky in ways I’m not. I want a man, not some little boy looking for his mama or a teenager looking for a meal ticket. I want a grown-up with drive to match mine, who is taller than me and about the same shade. Lighter men don’t want a big, dark Amazon. I don’t want Mr. Back to Africa or Mr. Lying on his Back or Mr. Knocking Me on My Back. I want a good man.” She gave Vince a smile. “And you’re certainly out of the question, whitebread.”
“Carla, love of my life, you could quite possibly pick me up and break me in two like a toothpick if I made you unhappy. And I most certainly would. No, I’m no good at living with people. I’ve got fourteen ex-boyfriends and twenty former roommates who will tell you I am an absolute tyrant. A veritable psychopath about cleanliness and order, a complete satyr in bed, and the pickiest eater in the entire three-state metropolitan area.”
“Can’t be that bad,” Carla said. “I’m too set in my ways to really want someone now. But I would like to be in love, just once.”
Vince looked horrified. “You’ve never been in love? Oh dear, we must find some way to remedy that.”
“I’ve had crushes, sure, but Vince, in the movie of life, I’m not the romantic lead. That’s Susie. I’m the fat, sassy black friend who makes smart remarks and eats too much cake.”
“Susie is a detestable bitch and any man that willingly puts himself under her stilettos deserves the heel marks she will leave all over his spine.” Vince waved her away.
“The point is—”
Vince cut her off. “The point is you hide behind that soft armor and your height and your attitude, wanting to be loved, but desperately afraid to let anyone close enough to do so.” He sighed. “We aren’t so different, my dear. It takes a special man to get past my sharp tongue and my camping. It will take a special man to love you for those things and not in spite of them.”
They sat quietly on the rock, watching the meteors. Carla wondered if he was right. She wondered if there really was such a man who could love her for the things she hated about herself but couldn’t bear to change.
"Fruits of thine."
http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/FruitsThine.html
Carla is an ordinary receptionist with an ordinary life. But an unexpected corporate retreat and an extraordinary encounter with a very interesting lover, leave her changed in ways that mean her life cannot fit her any more.
They walked down the well-paved path, following the trail of solar-powered lights that marked the edges. The rock jutted out over the valley, in a clearing well away from the trees. Carla sat, looked up, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
The sky was huge out here, big and black and full of cold white stars that twinkled down at her. Vertigo took her head and she lay down, covering her eyes.
“Oh, it’s a splendid view. I haven’t seen them like this since I was in Wyoming.”
“Going all Brokeback and shit?” Carla asked, automatically.
“Horses, not sheep, dear girl. But I have had my wilderness experiences. Open your eyes, Carla. You’re going to miss it. I had no idea it was time for a meteor shower.”
Carla looked up. She could handle some of the sky, just not all at once.
Vince pointed to the northeast. “There is Perseus. I didn’t know it was time for the Perseid shower.”
She looked in the general direction he had pointed and saw two meteors streak across the sky. “Pretty.”
“There will be more. Do you know your stars?”
“Not really. I knew some when I was a kid.” She pointed up. “That’s the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper and the North Star…oh, and Cassiopia like a big W and Bootes like an ice-cream cone. But the only other one I know is Orion, and he’s just up in the winter.”
“You’re three ahead of most people.” Vince gestured to the meteors. “That’s Perseus.” He traced the outline. “The one there is a binary star, called the Gorgon’s head or Algol. The name is Arabic and means The Ghoul. It’s considered a very bad omen. The big square there”—he showed it to her—“is Pegasus, his winged stallion.”
“I had a poster with a winged unicorn when I was a kid.”
“You, me, and every other little girl of a certain age.” Vince gave her a wicked smile. “Mine was in my closet because my father was terrified I was gay and giving me ‘girly shit’ would only encourage it. He was unsurprised, yet still completely aghast when I came out at eighteen.”
“Parents,” Carla sighed. “My mom’s on me to get married. She’s thinking I’m no prize and can’t afford to be picky.”
Vince looked at her. “A brilliant, lovely, intimidating girl like you should have your pick.”
“Vince, stop. I know what I look like. I know exactly what men think about me. I’m over thirty and I’m fat. I must be an easy lay, but they’d be ashamed to be seen with me by daylight. And I know I don’t want one who is easily intimidated. A few of those have dated me and they tend to be a little”—she scrunched her nose, trying to be tactful—“kinkier than I like.”
“Kinkier than you like or kinky in ways you don’t like?”
Damn, Vince could see through everything. No wonder he was one of the best at recruiting. She remembered meeting him the day she had come for an interview. He’d been charming and nice and asked sharply pointed questions that all the Internet interview tips hadn’t prepared her for. She’d never known why he had hired her, especially since she had lost her temper and told him one of his questions was patently illegal, racist, sexist, and discriminatory. He had laughed and agreed.
“That’s personal,” she said.
“Just us girls out here on the rock under the stars and Perseus swinging his big old sword dripping meteors in our direction,” Vince teased. His camp was wearing thin, but she went with it. “We’re going to be fired by the end of the week and I’ll never tell.”
“They’re kinky in ways I’m not. I want a man, not some little boy looking for his mama or a teenager looking for a meal ticket. I want a grown-up with drive to match mine, who is taller than me and about the same shade. Lighter men don’t want a big, dark Amazon. I don’t want Mr. Back to Africa or Mr. Lying on his Back or Mr. Knocking Me on My Back. I want a good man.” She gave Vince a smile. “And you’re certainly out of the question, whitebread.”
“Carla, love of my life, you could quite possibly pick me up and break me in two like a toothpick if I made you unhappy. And I most certainly would. No, I’m no good at living with people. I’ve got fourteen ex-boyfriends and twenty former roommates who will tell you I am an absolute tyrant. A veritable psychopath about cleanliness and order, a complete satyr in bed, and the pickiest eater in the entire three-state metropolitan area.”
“Can’t be that bad,” Carla said. “I’m too set in my ways to really want someone now. But I would like to be in love, just once.”
Vince looked horrified. “You’ve never been in love? Oh dear, we must find some way to remedy that.”
“I’ve had crushes, sure, but Vince, in the movie of life, I’m not the romantic lead. That’s Susie. I’m the fat, sassy black friend who makes smart remarks and eats too much cake.”
“Susie is a detestable bitch and any man that willingly puts himself under her stilettos deserves the heel marks she will leave all over his spine.” Vince waved her away.
“The point is—”
Vince cut her off. “The point is you hide behind that soft armor and your height and your attitude, wanting to be loved, but desperately afraid to let anyone close enough to do so.” He sighed. “We aren’t so different, my dear. It takes a special man to get past my sharp tongue and my camping. It will take a special man to love you for those things and not in spite of them.”
They sat quietly on the rock, watching the meteors. Carla wondered if he was right. She wondered if there really was such a man who could love her for the things she hated about herself but couldn’t bear to change.
