but “Click Your Heels“ is still available
From supernatural tales of intrigue to a curious modern romance, a thoroughly British relationship and a classic fairytale all twisted up, Bedtime Stories is a collection of short stories designed to be read one at a time, at bedtime. Let us wish you goodnight with gay romances that are sure to leave you ready for a night of sweet, lingering dreams..
Blurb of Click Your Heels Three Times: fantasy
Theodorin is preparing for a date with his lover, but his general has other plans for him.
“You have never met my youngest, have you, Your Highness?” The general motioned his son to come closer. He shuffled forward a hesitant step or two and performed an awkward bow.
I bowed my head. “Never had the pleasure.”
“Munkin came of age last week,” the general continued. “He is now old enough to be wed, and I’d like to offer him to you as your consort.”
Shaking my head, I took a step back. I should have seen this coming, I really should have. He’d offered me his eldest daughter when I was barely twenty-one, not realising I wasn’t into women. He hadn’t liked me refusing him then, and he wouldn’t now, judging from the way he narrowed his eyes at me. Of course, he found excellent matches for his three daughters among members of council and their families. And now he wanted a perfect match for his son. In some ways, I could understand. As revered as his title was, it didn’t garner him a place on the council. No soldiers allowed on the council. A conflict of interest, Mum called it. Our neighbouring country in the east had declined quickly once their military grabbed the leadership.
I was sure Munkin was a lovely young man—and a gorgeous one—but I had my heart set on Wystan. I turned to Munkin, opening my mouth to utter an apology, but then he gazed up at me, and I caught a hint of relief in his eyes. I closed my mouth, gave him a quick nod, and turned back to the general. “I have no doubt you’ll find him a good match, General, but it won’t be me.”
“You dare refuse your general?”
Munkin flinched and took a step back, and another one.
I took a step forward, straightened my pose and squared my shoulders. What I lacked in width, I had in length, bringing me in a position to look down on my general—inadvisable under different circumstances. “Our ranks have no place in this conversation, General. Not our military ranks, at least. My birthright, on the other hand, seems the very reason you requested my presence, and in that light, I’ll remind you my proper title is still Your Highness.”
A flick of a wrist, a “No, Father!” followed by a loud snap, and everything around me turned dark.
Click Your Heels Three Times © 2014 Blaine D. Arden. All rights reserved