Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

right than anything had in a long, long time.
    Cal looked away, not quite hiding a quick flash of panic. "I can't promise I won't freak out on you again. I—I have a mess in my head I still need to deal with."
    " Together ." Jordan repeated. "You're not going to scare me off." Jordan brought Cal's face back to his to bump their foreheads together. "I won't make the same mistake twice."
    "How can you know?"
    "Oh, I know." Jordan sealed his mouth to Cal's, hot and possessive. Staking his claim until they were both gasping for air. "I'm not letting you go again."
    Cal shivered. It was delicious. Finally, a small smile tugged at his lips.
    "Oh." The gasped cry brought them back to earth. They turned towards the doorway in time to see Kody bury his face in Thomas's shoulder with a noisy sniff. Thomas grinned at Jordan over Kody's head. He could barely hear Kody's muffled voice. "It's just so beautiful."
    Jordan smiled. He had to agree.
     
    THE END
    Author bio: When Kim can be torn away from her torrid love affair with Jon Stewart, one might find her keeping house in Minnesota while impersonating an ordinary mid-western wife and mother of three boys. Don't be fooled.
     
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ARS DAEMONICA
    by C.C. Williams

    Three photos: one— a young handsome, black-winged demon crouching; two— a close up of the handsome demon's face; and three— a bearded, long-haired wizard dressed in black, face shaded by a hat, quirky grin on his face.

    Dear Author,
    Ashtariel is a young sex demon who was called up to this realm by a powerful and unethical wizard who has plans to use the demon in the working of a spell. Demon blood has magical properties, you know. But before draining the demon, there's no harm in enjoying the pretty boy's company though.
    But what happens when the demon boy's much more powerful father comes to claim his offspring. Is it only the spell that the wizard will lose out on or has he found other uses and needs for a young sex demon in his life?
    Sincerely,
    Jason

    genre: alternate universe; paranormal; steampunk
    tags: mage; royalty; light BDSM; non-explicit sex content; demons
    word count: 9,439
    Back to the Table of Contents
     

     
    ARS DAEMONICA
    by C.C. Williams
    CHAPTER I – Beltaine Night
    One name… one simple name was all he needed… but he had to locate the damned book first!
    Turning another dank corner, Melizander followed the greenish light of Doctor Pogue's Heatless Lantern down another grimy, web-hung corridor. For weeks he had searched, poking and prodding the walls and bookcases of Somerset House, until he found what the Royal Society had long kept hidden— an undercroft. A maze filled with discarded ideas, experimental equipment and quite a surprising bit of rubbish. Had he not known better, Melizander would have sworn the warren of storage rooms had been abandoned since Sir Newton chaired the Society.
    He entered the next space. Glassware, flasks and retorts, dimly reflected the emerald shine of his light. To the Society's credit the spaces were supremely organized; like with like, each chamber housed a myriad of items, all equally dust-laden. Yet still no books.
    But he knew they were here— they had to be. First during his studies at Oxford, then later in his father's notes, he had discerned rumors of the crypt's existence. From bits and pieces, painstakingly garnered over time, those same minutiae had led him inexorably to the conclusion that the Society possessed texts which they kept hidden away— texts, books, tomes, all dealing with forbidden subjects— metaphysics of questionable ethics, grimoires of daemonology, and the like; those were what he sought. One in particular would help to still the chiding, disparaging voice in his head.
    Melizander sneezed. The green illumination flickered and went out, plunging him into darkness. Doctor Pogue's Bloody Worthless Lantern! Unafraid of man or daemon, he certainly did not fear the dark, however the small chitinous creatures that lived there were another matter. Grumbling about ill-designed power sources, Melizander reached into a pocket for a candle stub and lucifer.
    ****
    Ashe reclined, relishing the warm, etheric headiness of his cognac as he sank into an exceedingly comfortable leather wingchair. The dry smoke of a tobacco cigar— a new-style thing from some colony called Connecticut— married quite well with the cognac. His father was right— as much as it pained Ashe to admit— London was educational, even to one of Ashe's