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Emmi Lawrence

~ MM Fantasy Romance Writer

Emmi  Lawrence

Category Archives: Mini

All Language

04 Sunday Nov 2018

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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adventure fantasy, Author's Notes, Fantasy, fantasy romance, Fiction, Flash, gay romance, LGBT, Love, M/M, prose, Short Fiction, Writing

Attn: Pabron qu Aheren, Chief of the Wakeguard

We have spoken once before, if you recall, when you relayed an incredulous tidbit about a certain someone. A lass of general, though not great, renown who had gone missing. Do not worry, the details of the event in question are not the reason I write to you, merely my method of nudging you into remembering.

No, instead I seek the truth of another matter. Now normally I do not care whether stories told to me are completely truthful, for the sake of the story is what matters. The more fanciful, the better. But in this case…

I have been accused, even by you, of using underhanded techniques to get my stories, but I have never tortured, never beaten and certainly don’t bribe. I merely show interest in people begging for attention, make them feel as if I care, which, in turn, make them believe me to be trustworthy.

Men and women both have used me as a confident, confessing secrets and sins to my ears. And every word, every ounce of character, both kindly and cruel, have been recorded somehow, in some way, in my journals. I purposeful write out of order, leaving blank pages for another time and no dates to speak of, for I know them by heart.

This particular story interests me a far great more and for little reason that will make sense to you.

This man, of whom I will withhold the particulars, he claims to listen to things no other man can hear. He speaks so sincerely, with no mocking in his tone or humor in his smile, that I honestly can say I believe him. He’s asked his name to not be recorded and I will honor that request for dual purposes. However, I will note that he speaks with a coastal accent and uses phrases such as “by the swelled sea” and “like a gull’s cry.” He also bears a gouge on the palm of his left hand, of the sort one would get if wielding a scaling knife in the right while not paying attention.

I think you can see where I’m going with this, for does that not remind you of yourself in some part? Growing up where you have?

This man, he is not attractive in the classical sense, his features not entirely even, the left side of his face more amiable while the right seems to draw down, as if remembering some horrible past event. However, he carries no extra pounds, owns a calm and respectful manner and seems a steady presence, not one prone to outbursts. He avoids drink, even in social settings, and has the most intense considering gaze, one I could stare at for hours, wondering at what he might be wondering at.

These are his words, as best as I could jot them down as he spoke… Continue reading →

Poet’s Bane

02 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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Fantasy, fantasy romance, Fiction, Flash, gay romance, LGBT, Love, M/M, Poem, poetry, prose, Romance, Short Fiction, Writing

Your song, it tarries in the grooves of my heart. Plays on repeat, stuck. Your words, a language spoken by the soul, unintelligible to those outside our bond.

I pen another.

No smile could touch me quite the same. No tears strike the chord yours have found within my heart, swelling a lullaby that cradles me as I sink into the bliss that is you.

And another.

Such sweetness stains, eats away the walls I’ve built. Such devotion drives a track within our lives, carving a future merged from two.

And again.

This gentle soul I’ve found in you, reflected in a thousand mirrors, a million stars lighting your aura that you might cleanse me, free me from these earthly constraints that threaten to drown me in sand and soil.

I flip the page.

Take me to that place, wherever you might be. Come dawn, whisk me to between the worlds where folded together we shall ever be.

Scribble across the unintentional rhyme.

Please, I beg you to hear me scream. My voice echoes in my throat, but does not reach the sky. Lost among the nether clouds where your ship wanders, searching for what, I wonder. Searching for me, I hope.

The thesaurus does not help, so I throw it.

You are my heart, my soul, my world and all the worlds you’ve visited since. I breathe for you. A silent song I can not control pours forth into the starry road you travel.

I scream for real, a shout of pure frustration.

What can I possibly say for you to hear, not with your ears, but with your heart? I yearn to follow you, to chase that winding path you’ve left glowing in your wake.

I let the pen fall. Ink splatters the page, looking like star patches and nebulae and a single half note with its empty belly. There are no words left untarnished by my feeble attempts. I merely repeat myself.

Heart. Soul. Stars. Song. World.

How can I not wrangle these thoughts into something coherent, something I could be proud enough to show him? To watch his eyes flick across the page, faster and faster, as he reads of my emotions.

Outside the roar returns. His ship burning, a high whine settling into a blare of engines that shake the building.

I’m out of time.

I shove the used papers into the trash. Ink bleeds across those pages, muffling the pain in those sentences. I take up the pen one more time. Pull free a fresh piece of paper.

May I come with you?

He would understand.

* * *

I had the first two lines of this story for a very long time, but I didn’t know what to do with them. Second person isn’t my favorite type of POV so I knew I didn’t want to write anything too long, but I couldn’t come up with a way to turn those two lines into anything more.

Then I got to thinking about the way I often brainstorm when I’m stuck trying to come up with a new idea or flesh out an old one. And that is…I write new lines, continuously starting over until I finally pick up the right track and can race forward with the story.

I thought it might be fun to create a flash piece using that method…so thus was born the poet trying to pen a love note and having the worst time of it.

What’s neat is that this is an inside look on how I sometimes get to the right words. There are often a lot of unused words that come first, most of which get tossed in the garbage because either they’re not good enough, don’t move the story or characters in the right direction, or simply don’t convey the message I’m trying to get across.

That being said. I absolutely love the first two lines. I think the poet should have stopped with them.

~Emmi

The Immortal Lover of Lake Phanta

04 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini, Short Story

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Fantasy, fantasy romance, Fiction, Flash, gay romance, LGBT, Love, M/M, prose, Romance, Writing

In the soft soil along the banks of the jungle-hidden Lake Phanta, just past the curve where the Creeping Falls gurgled, lay an aged bottle. Stoppered with browned wax and coated with a mottled decor of muck and algae, the bottle sat lodged, its squat bottom stuck between the twisted roots of an ancient willow.

The narrow neck popped free when yanked, leaving behind a perfect ring of thick glass. Just inside, kept clean and supple for centuries, a note unfurled.

With the rush of the falls echoing across the lake, a young man plucked the note free with two fingers and unrolled it, the broken bottle quickly forgotten at his feet.

It read:

To my first love,

We’d met in the morn hours, before the sun awoke, while the birds cooed their greetings. The falls drowned out our voices, claiming our lusty sounds as its own. The jungle paths remembered our footsteps, echoed them through the trees. The moss-lined curves between the roots cradled us as we slept in each other’s arms, the scent of our lust embracing us just as surely.

No one ever found us, not in all the times we’d discovered ourselves over and over again. At the time, I’d been thankful for that privacy, you my hidden secret that kept me running wild rather than taking up the burden of responsibility. Continue reading →

Just a Typical Day in a Nurse’s Life

03 Sunday Dec 2017

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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adventure fantasy, Erotica, Fantasy, fantasy romance, Fiction, Flash, gay romance, LGBT, Love, paranormal, Romance, Short Fiction, Writing

See, it all started with this boy. Well, not so much a boy as a man. A young man with bright green guileless eyes and long blond locks and a body stolen from a god.

Yes, I know how it sounds. You’re thinking I must not have been thinking with my head—and you’d be right. He was just so…

And he moved in ways that…

And his voice…

His tongue…

I have no words to describe him, not in a way that might even draw near to capturing what he was truly like. Continue reading →

The Choice in the Inevitable

06 Sunday Aug 2017

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

adventure fantasy, Erotica, Fantasy, fantasy romance, Fiction, Flash, gay romance, LGBT, Love, Romance, Short Fiction, Worldbuilding, Writing

Fate & Destiny

In the province of Scuvorya there exists a prevailing belief in both fate and destiny. A strong enough belief that two of their most revered gods are the Dual Lovers of the Pre-Ordained. When texts were translated and the tenants of Scuvoryan ideology were introduced to the provinces that would one day make up the northern counties of the Merandin Empire, the Lovers were turned into a male/female pair, their names altered to ones more acceptable to older Meranish sensibilities.

However, the original Scuvoryan texts indicate the gods of the pre-ordained, Ahcton and Dvid, were sons of two warring goddesses—Vlerica and Lialornca. Continue reading →

The Illusion That Is Failure

04 Sunday Jun 2017

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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adventure fantasy, Fantasy, Flash, gay romance, LGBT, Love, M/M, Romance, Short Fiction, Writing

Dear Seth,

I’ve heard most people regret missed opportunities. Chances to confess their deepest emotion or grip some elusive offer, that which terrifies them into a stasis while the moment slips beyond reach. I’ve said much I’ve been sorry for, done many things that may or may not have led to the best outcomes, but one thing I’ve never had difficulty with, in my entire life, was seizing opportunities when they presented themselves. I’ve experienced more than most and I don’t regret any of it. Not the bad or the uncomfortable or awkward. Without them I wouldn’t have a comparison for the wonderful, the beautiful or the precious.

Yet, even I have a regret. Yes, me. The man who shrugs off mistakes, who laughs at adversity, who thrives under the illusion that is failure.

Please, Seth, do not take what I write next as indicative of a lack of depth of my feelings for you. You have been, quite literally regardless how clichéd it sounds, the best thing in my life, my heart and soul within another and even, at times, my reason for breathing. Despite that, if I could go back, if I could change one thing, it would be to walk past you that morning. Continue reading →

Man Made Stone

03 Sunday Jan 2016

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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Fantasy, fantasy romance, gay romance, LGBT, Love, Short Fiction, Writing

Man Made Stone

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence
Mini (600)

He wore the marks well, specks of gray upon his skin. Like bruises from an old master, one of his own making. They grew in ever-spreading meandering patterns, leaving the distinct impression of shadows reaching through his skin. Sometimes I envisioned they reached for me.

His smile faded over time. Those lips I’d once touched with trembling fingers ceased curving when he saw me. The light in his eyes dimed as if reflecting the strange weight crushing his soul. I tried to stop that headlong dive he took, tried to remind him of the pleasures of the flesh, of the joy a beating heart could not contain when it found a kindred spirit.

He pushed me away, not unkindly, but painfully all the same.

His hand scraped like coarse granite, drawing a pinkness to my skin that ran in neat lines along my arm. The strength behind that jerky movement startled me. He’d never been so powerful, not even when I’d loosed control and let him lead me in all ways, carnal and otherwise. Continue reading →

Cupid’s Recipe

06 Sunday Dec 2015

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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Tags

Author's Notes, Fantasy, fantasy romance, Flash, Love, Romance, Short Fiction, Writing

He began with a tiny pinch of flying powder—it’d be good for a lift in a person’s step was all. Then came the sticky sap, a sugary glue to keep them together no matter the distance. A dash of rosemary mixed with honeysuckle for the springtime memory even in the midst of winter. Then two mismatching butterfly wings—one blue and black, the other yellow and white—plucked only from those who died of old age after fluttering through even the worst of storms.

With a kind hand and a warm oven, he baked the sticky substance for a mere minute, just long enough for two people to truly notice one another. As the finishing touch, he sprinkled crushed conch shell over the tray so they would be able to hear the crashing emotions in each other if they stopped to listen.

Before it cooled, he rolled the tips of his arrows through the mixture, then he set out with a quiver full of love and a determination to change the world two hearts at a time.

The End

I figure everyone would want a break from all things houndmaster or wild, so here’s just a short and sweet piece to make you smile.

Happy first Sunday of the month :)

Coming Together

02 Sunday Aug 2015

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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Tags

Author's Notes, Erotica, Fantasy, Fiction, Love, Romance, Short Fiction, Writing

As Greg placed the pieces together, the rounded curves sliding into place seamlessly, the brown hair in the puzzle began to flutter, as if an ocean breeze had caught the visible strands. He watched for a few seconds, then sifted through the bulk of the pieces until he found the other portion of the man’s forehead. He attached it to the couple of pieces of cloud and sky and hair he’d already put together, then blinked when the forehead crinkled.

He glanced from the connected grouping of puzzle pieces to his condensating beer, then to the pile of freshly opened pieces. Bits of residue from the box decorated the table, calling attention to themselves when he sighed. He returned his gaze to the portion he’d just put together and shook his head because the hair no longer fluttered and the forehead had gone as smooth as it’d been when he’d first picked it up.

For a long time Greg worked quietly. Sorting the colors. Connecting the edges. Separating sky and ocean from beach and man.

The tight bathing suit, bright orange and black, easily went together. The legs extending down from it almost looked the same as the sunny piling above the pier that ran along the right side of the puzzle, but he found them as the pier grew longer. He thought, for just a moment, that he saw droplets sliding along the man’s knee after placed the pieces, but when he looked again, the telltale sparkle of sweat had disappeared. Continue reading →

There’s a Demon…

03 Sunday May 2015

Posted by Emmi Lawrence in Fantasy, M/M, Mini

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Tags

Author's Notes, Erotica, Fiction, Love, Romance, Writing

 There’s a Demon…

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

Mini (Approx 1200)

There’s a demon living in my bathroom. He claims he’s harmless. Kind. In rare instances he even uses the word delightful. Though if that truly is the case then it’s a wonder that he sneaks peeks at me around the shower curtain.

Sometimes he appears as a child. Talk about disturbing. He blinks owlish eyes and stares as I shave. Then he gathers the tiny pieces of hair, collecting it in a pale pile that he hides away somewhere. I keep expecting him to throw a tantrum one day and coat me in a hurricane of stubble.

On Mondays he becomes one of those typical interpretations. You know the type—cloven hooves, forked tail, antler thingies, bright red body with a black goatee he swirls into two separate curling points. He gets mad when I call them antlers. He also insists that he looks that way on Mondays in order to keep my world from imploding. Something about Mondays being the worst day of the week and he just wants to be a part of that. The worst part.

Honestly, I don’t mind that he looks that way on Mondays because any and all attraction I have for him is inexplicitly gone. I can fumble about in the morning, trying to relieve a hangover and still get myself at least partly presentable for work without worrying about popping random woodies. Continue reading →

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I am posting new Two-Line Stories based on illustrations/photos and would love for you to play along if you’d like! :)

A few of my more recent snippets:

They Never Returned Whole

Wish Wings

A Lofty Goal

I no longer publish a free story a month at this time, however, all the previous ones are still around for you to check out :)

THE BAYWATER & THE HURRICANE
(fantasy M/M)

WHAT SECRETS MIGHT REMAIN
(fantasy M/M)

TALL, DARK & HANDSOME
(contemporary M/M)

THE IMMORTAL LOVER OF LAKE PHANTA
(fantasy M/M)

THE GARDEN OF LUST AND BONE
(fantasy M/M)

MY LIFE, HIS BREATH
(contemporary M/M)

POET’S BANE
(fantasy M/M)

What’s Up!

  • Reflecting Rebirth (5 of 5)
  • Fractured Grave (4 of 5)
  • Artistry Aflight (3 of 5)
  • Wounded Stone (2 of 5)
  • Survivor: Island of the Idols Controversy Thoughts
  • An Affinity for Glass (1 of 5)

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