Saturday, June 30, 2012

The 777 Challenge

Seven lines from the 7th page of each manuscript, starting with the seventh line.

Apollo's Men #1, Alexios' Fate:

Lykos wore an intricately patterned chiton. Black and green Greek keys meandered along the selvages of the crimson linen. The folds of cloth fell from where the garment was pinned over his left shoulder with a bright bronze fibula to below his knees, leaving his right shoulder bare. A wide ox hide girdle supported a sheathed sword at his waist. Soft leather sandals encased his feet, supple sheepskin laces winding up calves like tree trunks. Alexios half expected him to wear a laurel wreath at his brow.

Even if his clothing hadn't marked him as the king, Alexios would have known by the way the older man held himself. Confidence and raw power spilled outward from him in an irresistible current, his authority clear for all to see. Gray touched his wind-tossed hair and beard and showed in the wiry curls on the side of his chest the chiton left bare. Lykos' broad shoulders and the corded muscles of his exposed arms and legs told the story of a life spent defending his kingdom.

Apollo's Men #2:

With a discomfited growl, he threw himself down on the pillows. Changing his mind, Alexios grabbed the drinking vessel and downed the contents in one long pull. Even then he couldn't swallow the knot in his throat no matter how he tried. A trickle escaped his mouth and ran down his chin.

He set the kylix down with a clatter, breathing heavily. He could feel the thick wine moving sluggishly through his blood. Maybe that would calm him some.

Lykos gazed at him, unspeaking. Speculation and some kind of understanding crossed his strong features.

From the Ashes:

"I don't need to go to the ball," Cinder started to say when she interrupted him.

"Oh, nonsense, dear. I promised to see you happy, and I won't let a little shyness on your part keep you from meeting your prince. He's been waiting for you, you know." She gently shooed him toward the front courtyard.

Prince? He didn't need a prince. He was a man. A princess would be nice, but what would he do with one of those?

"I really can't go..."

Morning Star:

Opening his mouth, Mark took Adonis' cock to the back of his throat, burying his nose in the nest of curls at its base. The sound that ripped from the other man's throat sounded almost painful. Knowing what it would do to the other man, Mark moaned his own appreciation as the cock in his mouth throbbed and twitched. More precum flooded his mouth.

Sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks, Mark pulled back up. He swirled his tongue around the edge of the crown before pressing into the inverted v on the underside. The fingers in his hair clenched and pulled him down again. He repeated this several times before Adonis reverted to form and began fucking his face.

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