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Since so many folks liked the cover of my gay vampire novel, Running Dry, which has just been re-released by Camel Books, here's the intro to the book. Enjoy!
“They say the seas are going to dry up. Blow away.”
“I’ve heard that.”
“The moon, too. It’s going to leave, sail off into the sky. Leave us behind,” Sergio said, swinging his feet off the edge. First the left, then the right, dancing with the heights. “Do you think we’ll see that?”
“We could,” Doud said, arm around Sergio’s shoulders. To reassure him, and to remind himself that this was real, firm, and solid, he tugged him closer.
Mahogany eyes directed at him, Sergio said, “Everyone will get old, turn to dust. But we’ll still be here, won’t we? The earth will be like the desert. No oceans, no water, no one will be alive. But we’ll still be here.” His legs stopped swinging.
“Maybe. Other things could happen, too. You never know for sure. Time changes too much.” Sitting on the toes of rearing elephants, they looked down on the gleaming architecture of Babylon, a plaster movie set brilliantly white from a still-neighborly moon.
Despite their height, Doud wasn't afraid. Not of falling, at least. He knew the elephants Sergio had made for Mr. Griffith, believed in his lover’s craftsmanship, and so implicitly trusted them to carry their weight. He hoped he knew Sergio as well, but he was still quietly grateful for the simple strength of his sculpture. Men were too complex, too unpredictable. Apparent solidity and dependability all too often hid deep flaws. The elephants of Intolerance, though, were wood and plaster.
Dependable wood, trustworthy plaster.
“Ever been to the desert?" Sergio asked unexpectedly. "I went there, with some friends, just after I came here. Hot, like a stove. But I didn’t think of cooking, the kitchen, or food, only that it was like a line across a page, like the start of a drawing. Now, I think of it like the way the world will be. All boiled away -- just hot air and that line.” Drawing his hand across the horizon, he underlined distant Hollywood.
“Too hot and dry for me. But we can go sometime. Both of us.” He didn’t need to say we have lots of time.
“They say the war will end soon. The War to End All Wars -- but that’s not true, eh? We’ll find out, I guess.”
“It’ll end. They always do.” Doud tried to catch his attention again, but the other man refused to look away from the bright lights of the distant city.
“Even our Babylon will be gone. Mr. Griffith’s film is over. They’ll break up my elephants.”
“There’ll be other pictures. You’ll see.”
After a moment of tense silence Sergio's eyes swung back to Doud. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”
“I will,” Doud replied, gently stammering, delicately hesitant. I will. Not a promise, just desire. With it, abrupt reality on the toes of great white elephants: please, let this one work out. I don't want to kill him.
“Kiss me,” Sergio said, closing those dark marble eyes.
And Doud did, a simple kiss on the edge of a Hollywood eternity.
“They say the seas are going to dry up. Blow away.”
“I’ve heard that.”
“The moon, too. It’s going to leave, sail off into the sky. Leave us behind,” Sergio said, swinging his feet off the edge. First the left, then the right, dancing with the heights. “Do you think we’ll see that?”
“We could,” Doud said, arm around Sergio’s shoulders. To reassure him, and to remind himself that this was real, firm, and solid, he tugged him closer.
Mahogany eyes directed at him, Sergio said, “Everyone will get old, turn to dust. But we’ll still be here, won’t we? The earth will be like the desert. No oceans, no water, no one will be alive. But we’ll still be here.” His legs stopped swinging.
“Maybe. Other things could happen, too. You never know for sure. Time changes too much.” Sitting on the toes of rearing elephants, they looked down on the gleaming architecture of Babylon, a plaster movie set brilliantly white from a still-neighborly moon.
Despite their height, Doud wasn't afraid. Not of falling, at least. He knew the elephants Sergio had made for Mr. Griffith, believed in his lover’s craftsmanship, and so implicitly trusted them to carry their weight. He hoped he knew Sergio as well, but he was still quietly grateful for the simple strength of his sculpture. Men were too complex, too unpredictable. Apparent solidity and dependability all too often hid deep flaws. The elephants of Intolerance, though, were wood and plaster.
Dependable wood, trustworthy plaster.
“Ever been to the desert?" Sergio asked unexpectedly. "I went there, with some friends, just after I came here. Hot, like a stove. But I didn’t think of cooking, the kitchen, or food, only that it was like a line across a page, like the start of a drawing. Now, I think of it like the way the world will be. All boiled away -- just hot air and that line.” Drawing his hand across the horizon, he underlined distant Hollywood.
“Too hot and dry for me. But we can go sometime. Both of us.” He didn’t need to say we have lots of time.
“They say the war will end soon. The War to End All Wars -- but that’s not true, eh? We’ll find out, I guess.”
“It’ll end. They always do.” Doud tried to catch his attention again, but the other man refused to look away from the bright lights of the distant city.
“Even our Babylon will be gone. Mr. Griffith’s film is over. They’ll break up my elephants.”
“There’ll be other pictures. You’ll see.”
After a moment of tense silence Sergio's eyes swung back to Doud. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”
“I will,” Doud replied, gently stammering, delicately hesitant. I will. Not a promise, just desire. With it, abrupt reality on the toes of great white elephants: please, let this one work out. I don't want to kill him.
“Kiss me,” Sergio said, closing those dark marble eyes.
And Doud did, a simple kiss on the edge of a Hollywood eternity.
Bad boys
Join me in "Bad boys" my monthly homoerotic synthograph series. It's a realm of rugged, alternative men in leather and spikes, athletic and captivating, set in random urban sceneries. While not explicit, each image is a feast for the senses, stirring imagination and desire. Subscribe for an artistic, provocative adventure.
$3/month
AMPUTATION AND NOVEL PUBLICITY
PRESS RELEASE: In what is clearly an act of pure desperation, author M. Christian has threatened to amputate part of one finger to publicize his new novel, Finger's Breadth (Zumaya Books).
"The fact is, it's getting harder and harder to get the word out about anything new, especially novels," says M. Christian, whose biography includes over 400 short story sales, nine author collections, the editing of 25 anthologies, and six previous novels. "Is it no surprise that writers are having to resort to obvious stunts to try and get their work noticed?"
Though Finger's Breadth described as a gay erotic science fiction horror thriller
Cecilia Tan's Intro To The Bachelor Machine
And the publicity push for the new, Circlet Press, edition of The Bachelor Machine continues! Here's an extra-special, extra-grand, extra-fabulous treat: the one-and-only Cecilia Tan's intro to the original edition of my science fiction erotica collection ... and which, naturally, is also in the new edition as well.
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I'm going to tell you a secret. There are only two people in the world I envy. One is the late Roger Zelazny, whose talent for an almost jazz improvisational way of writing I could never match.The other is M. Christian, for writing exactly what I'd write if only I could get off my ass. Which is to say, raunchy hallucinatory
Out Now: THE BACHELOR MACHINE By M.Christian
THE BACHELOR MACHINE
Science Fiction Erotica
A Brand New Edition
Out Now From M.Christian!
M.Christian and Circlet Press are proud to announce the publication of a brand new edition of M.Christian's best-selling and ground-breaking collection of science fiction erotica: The Bachelor Machine!
Now available in ebook for the first time, 18 short stories of crackling erotic futures by the master of erotic voice, M. Christian. Men, women, hackers, derelicts, enforcers, hustlers, and whores in every combination inhabit the streets and beds and back alleys of Christian's imagination. This is erotic science fiction at its best.
Included in this
Love Without Gun Control
Sure, you might think sex when you think of M.Christian but with the publication of this brand new collection of the celebrated erotica author's science fiction, fantasy and horror stories (believe it or not without sex) you may very well think ... well, just what these people are saying about it:
M. Christian speaks with a totally unique and truly fascinating voice. There are a lot of writers out there who'd better protect their markets!
- Mike Resnick, Hugo and Nebula Award winning science fiction author
M. Christian's stories squat at the intersection of Primal Urges Avenue and Hi-Tech Parkway like a feral-eyed, half-naked Karen Bla
© 2010 - 2024 MChristian
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