Reading in Baltimore – 3 and 4 of 4

These are excerpts from the book Red August, by H.L. Brooks – read by actors Erica Smith and Will Hardy. It is available at Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Nobel and iBooks, among other places. Links can be found at http://www.hlbrooks.com

In this scene Red/August has been meeting her handsome neighbor near the stream that runs down their properties. They read books and discuss them.

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This reading took place at Scarborough Fair Bed & Breakfast in Baltimore, Maryland.

http://www.scarboroughfairbandb.com/

*This is an abridged version meant to be read out loud.

Book Synopsis

What if you found out that you were descended from a long line of clandestine fighters, and that your family was still at war? Or that the love of your life was something other than human? August Archer thinks she’s a normal teenage girl—even though she has been having disturbing and erotic dreams about wolves lately. Still grieving over the loss of her bookish, charming father, and wondering over his final gift of a red hooded cloak, August is uprooted from her New York City apartment to a tiny town in Maryland, and the rambling Victorian house where he grew up. There she meets a wise woman with a gift for herbal medicine, the gentle old man who keeps the house in repair and the grounds thriving, and her new neighbor: an enigmatic, irresistibly fascinating man who refuses to talk to her, yet who seems to know her better than she knows herself, and fuels her most intense romantic fantasies. But it’s when August begins to coax her feisty Scottish grandmother out of her self-imposed catatonia that a strange tale of werewolves and hunters emerges—one in which the man of her dreams may be her family’s oldest enemy—in this modern-day telling of the Red Riding Hood story.

 

Reading in Baltimore – 1

There was a reading of Red August at Scarborough Fair Bed & Breakfast in Baltimore this past Saturday.  Actors Erica Smith and Will Hardy read excerpts from the book and we enjoyed warm cider with a tiny audience.

This particular excerpt is one of about four I will post.

The excerpts I chose include those where August and Faolan have interaction.  I came to realize that the excerpts may give the impression that the book is straight romance, but it’s a fairy tale adaption of Red Riding Hood set in 1980s small town Maryland.

Find out where to buy Red August by visiting HLBrooks.com.

VIDEO INFO

This is an excerpt from the book Red August, by H.L. Brooks – read by actors Erica Smith and Will Hardy.  It is available at Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes & Nobel and iBooks, among other places.  Links can be found at http://www.hlbrooks.com

In this scene Red and her handsome neighbor meet for the first time.  She is new to town.  She’s had a rough several months, including having been assaulted by somebody, which she is trying to heal from.  On this night she watches something kind of naughty on TV and falls asleep and wakes up restless in the middle of the night, so goes for a walk along her property.

This reading took place at Scarborough Fair Bed & Breakfast in Baltimore, Maryland.

http://www.scarboroughfairbandb.com/

*This is an abridged version meant to be read out loud.

Book Synopsis

What if you found out that you were descended from a long line of clandestine fighters, and that your family was still at war? Or that the love of your life was something other than human? August Archer thinks she’s a normal teenage girl—even though she has been having disturbing and erotic dreams about wolves lately. Still grieving over the loss of her bookish, charming father, and wondering over his final gift of a red hooded cloak, August is uprooted from her New York City apartment to a tiny town in Maryland, and the rambling Victorian house where he grew up. There she meets a wise woman with a gift for herbal medicine, the gentle old man who keeps the house in repair and the grounds thriving, and her new neighbor: an enigmatic, irresistibly fascinating man who refuses to talk to her, yet who seems to know her better than she knows herself, and fuels her most intense romantic fantasies. But it’s when August begins to coax her feisty Scottish grandmother out of her self-imposed catatonia that a strange tale of werewolves and hunters emerges—one in which the man of her dreams may be her family’s oldest enemy—in this modern-day telling of the Red Riding Hood story.

Book Update

I’ve updated my website HLBrooks.com to reflect all of the links that you need in order to purchase Red August.  The most recent addition is approval by Amazon yesterday.

The e-book is only $3.99.  There is not a print copy available as of yet.

Links for purchase:
Amazon
iBooks
Barnes & Nobel
Smashwords (you can read 33% of the book for free here)
Kobo

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Synopsis

What if you found out that you were descended from a long line of clandestine fighters, and that your family was still at war? Or that the love of your life was something other than human? August Archer thinks she’s a normal teenage girl–even though she has been having disturbing and erotic dreams about wolves lately. Still grieving over the loss of her bookish, charming father, and wondering over his final gift of a red hooded cloak, August is uprooted from her New York City apartment to a tiny town in Maryland, and the rambling Victorian house where he grew up. There she meets a wise woman with a gift for herbal medicine, the gentle old man who keeps the house in repair and the grounds thriving, and her new neighbor: an enigmatic, irresistibly fascinating man who refuses to talk to her, yet who seems to know her better than she knows herself, and fuels her most intense romantic fantasies. But it’s when August begins to coax her feisty Scottish grandmother out of her self-imposed catatonia that a strange tale of werewolves and hunters emerges–one in which the man of her dreams may be her family’s oldest enemy–in this modern-day telling of the Red Riding Hood story.

Sensual Sunday – Bloom

Soft pink petals, parting.  You pluck them.  Pastel hues, gathered into bunches.  An offering that makes me smile.  I say a tiny blessing that I trust this gift.  Once upon a time I used to get flowers from somebody else.   Receiving them never felt as pleasurable as this.  More often I felt the thorns in those offerings.  As though there was an apology in them, for things I didn’t know were happening.  Sad things, behind my back. I blink the unhappy thought away.

I smell the bouquet and and sneeze.  A tiny squeak that always elicits giggles from anybody nearby.  Your face is warm and your energy is open.  You wrap your arms around me and I bury my face in, inhaling your smells and feeling the texture of your cotton shirt against my cheek. I grasp a wrinkle of jersey in my free hand and press hard into you.

I take them to the sink and fill a faded blue glass antique jar with water.  The smell of green as I snip of blades to tidy the ends.  Dropping them into the vessel I parade them to the table, sitting them on the lace tablecloth near the tea cups resting in a puddle of sunshine.

There is beauty in these small things.  These gestures.  And the beauty blooms and grows in new ways inside of me now that so much pain is behind me.  I am not in a constant state of receiving apologies for things I don’t know that have occurred.  It is plain.  You offer a gift that you were thinking of me and I accept the gift with trust.

We lay down together, spooning in our own ray of sun.  Your hand resting in the valley of my hip.   Your breath on the back of my neck.

“Tell me a story,” I say, only slightly childish.

“Once upon a time there was a mermaid…” you begin a tale made from familiar places and happy endings as I drift off to sleep.

Sensual Sunday – Candy Apple Kisses

Sensual Sunday is a weekly sensual observation or short story.

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He bought me a candy apple.  The kind with the hard glossy coating and I smiled coyly as he presented it to me.  It was fancy, for a carnival apple, wrapped elegantly with a bow closing it at the top.  I stuck my finger inside one of the red and white gingham loops and traced it with my finger.  I twirled one of the loose ends and tugged, popping the ribbon free.  He held his hand out and I dropped it into his palm, as though it were a pair of my panties.  As he watched, I peeled the sticking wrapper away from the treat, enjoying the crinkle of the genuine cellophane.  My smile was toothy and joyful now, as I felt my teasing kitten routine falter for a moment.  As soon as I put tongue to the apple’s sweet coating, I turned my eyes up at him.  He smiled, proud he’d pleased me.  I thought about kneeling right there on the pavement and unzipping his jeans.  Pulling him out and putting candy apple kisses all over it.  My tender knees on the bumpy biting asphalt.  People stopping to stare.  Couples getting turned on and rushing home to fuck each others’ brains out.  I ran my lips across the damp sticky lollipop surface and stepped in to kiss him.  We stood there, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, the lights and whirling sounds and chatter of people all around us.  He pressed against me so hard I thought I would fall over.  I could feel him hard, right through his jeans, and I was aching to touch him there.  We held each other tightly as he licked the sticky cherry flavoring from my lips.  He’s usually a shy boy, so he pulled away when he noticed people stopping, furrowing their brows and giving us disapproving looks.  Not much later that evening we would sneak into my basement rec-room while my parents slept innocently two floors above us.

Sensual Sunday

I love doing themes!  Particularly those with alliteration – like Wonderful Word Wednesday.  It’s motivating and inspires me to push myself a bit.  I want to try Sensual Sunday posts.  Essentially, I’ll post about something sensual– that is to say, anything pleasurable.  Most will likely have an erotic bent to them.

Inaugural SS – enjoy.

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The smell of coffee on a lazy morning.  I watch as he stands naked in the kitchen, making the brew.  Sunlight pours in the large window, highlighting hipbones, collarbones, knees and shoulders.  The soft down on the back of his neck, where it is warm and a good place to kiss, tickles my nose as I nuzzle, eyes closed.  He smells of spicy conditioner and cotton pillowcases.

He sets the heavy mug down, making a soft thud when it connects with the counter.  He turns and I can see he is ready to return to bed, not to sleep.  His hands hold my face as he bends to meet my mouth with his. We breathe each other in for a moment.  Without a word, his hand slides down my arm, clasps my hand and leads me to his bed.

❤