Review - Femme by Marshall Thornton

Four out of five stars for Femme by Marshall Thornton.

Lionel is a waiter at the local gay bar. The Bird is the perfect place for him. The patrons range from a straight crossdresser, to straight-acting men, to an entertainer who is even more femme than Lionel. Here, he can be himself while working with other men society is reluctant to accept. What could be safer?

Doug hadn't intended to go home with the young waiter with a penchant for pink and women's shoes, but one too many shots and it was a done deal. Normally, he wouldn't have given the guy a second glance—girly boys aren't his thing—but now that he's woken up next to Lionel, he can't get him out of his head.

But even The Bird isn't safe enough for Lionel. He's not the "right" kind of gay. He's too femme. He shouldn't "put it out there." Bigotry that should have been checked at the door follows him even here.

Now the captain of Doug's softball team has launched a campaign against Lionel and expects them all to back him in his assertion that Lionel "makes us look bad." Even though Doug would be better off just walking away from the waiter, he can't bring himself to do something that is so clearly wrong. He's gotten to know the feisty guy, and while Lionel isn't his type, he likes him anyways.

Lionel and Doug are forced to question who they really are. Both thought they knew until they took the time to get to know each other and see themselves through the other's eyes. Were they true to themselves or trying to live up to others' expectations of what they should be?

This story explores tolerance, and the lack thereof in any human interactions. How even the people who should be on your side aren't always.

Femme is a study in opposites attracting and how sometimes we can see beneath our differences without realizing it. It's about making choices and doing the right thing. And maybe, just maybe finding someone you never thought you would.

Rainbow Snippet - A Shared Love

Andreas, Theron, and Coridan are traveling to Corinth and thence to Delphi. Along the way they must pass Agamemnon's  ancient fortress of Mycenae, now the abode of thieves.

The brooding bulk of the Mycenaean hill fort stared down on them, sizing them up like goats waiting to be sacrificed for its splendor. The weight of the cyclopean stone wall, haphazardly darkened by fire, threatened to bow his back permanently.

Andreas had never seen anything built on this scale with, of all things, giant stones. In his experience, homes were made of mud brick and wooden palisades protected villages. Even Tegea's stone walls couldn't rival what he saw before him now. How imposing must the city have been in all its glory?

He doubted Perseus had known when he forced the Cyclopes to build his ramparts to what end his kingdom would come.

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