Tuesday, March 19, 2013

First Times

There're many reasons to write about first times, mainly because they can be so powerful. Some stories have more firsts than others.

In the first chapter of Harey, a story about the man behind the myth of Easter, this little clip barely shows the emotion a boy must feel when he's touched for the first time without malice, his pet rabbit not killed, and  when he's given a name other than Gwas, which means servant.
      He ran his fingers along his cheek, wiped streaks of crimson on the ground, and Gwas knew then he must be dreaming. He had never had anyone touch him before, not like this, and it felt wonderful.
His tears stopped and Gwas sank, lost into the gaze of a man-angel.
“Listen,” Gareth said. “Your name is no longer Gwas. I christen you….” he smiled down at Bitty. “Harey. And Harey, you are not anyone’s servant. You now belong to the goddess and you are to come with me.”
Me? A real name? Harey?
Gareth shifted his hand to untie a brown cloth from his waist. “Forgive me—Harey. I am placing your pet in this sack, and then I shall have to hurt you. The arrow must come out.”
He, Harey, did not know what thrilled him more, the fact he had been deemed worthy of an identity, or the novel feel of Gareth’s powerful hand sheltering him and his friend.
     Of course, the most written about first must be the kiss and there's nothing like setting. How about a man kissing a man inside a filled church? Here's another clip from Harey. It's spring, and he's returned from a winter where no one knew where he was. The groom-to-be is so relieved to see Harey, he goes in for that first kiss and forgets his bride-to-be's name.

Harey thought his heart would burst. Gareth looked so happy. Son, brother, friend, I wish I could be more to him. “I could never miss your marriage. Gareth? I have to tell—”
“Shh. First, a proper greeting.” Gareth threw his arm round Harey’s neck and fastened his lips over his gaping mouth.
Harey leaned into Gareth’s hold, closed his eyes, and the world melted away. He had never been kissed before, not like this. Gareth’s lips felt beyond wonderful, salty and firm as they molded into Harey’s. When Gareth’s tongue danced, brushing inside Harey’s mouth, his moan pulled from his toes and every molecule of flesh, bone, liquid within him began to hum.
Way too soon, Gareth eased his lips from Harey’s and a low growl forced its way through the rushing waves in Harey’s ears.
“Not now, you heathen fools,” Patrick said. “This is Maura’s day.”
“Who?” Gareth stepped back, straightened his robe, and his grin widened. “Oh yes, right. Maura. Stand by me, Harey. Sod off, Patrick. Let friends and God witness what his presence means to me.” Gareth grasped Harey’s hand. He thrust their arms into the air. “Eostre’s hare, Christ’s saint, has blessed us. Hail to our Harey!”

Please comment on whatever you'd like, for a chance to win an e-copy of Harey, a M/M/F historical romance published by Decadent Publishing. Maybe a thought if the first time a human touches another with compassion is more memorable than the first time kiss?
Thank you, so much, for stopping by.
Here's the link to hop onward, toward the grand prize of a kindle fire or an amazon gift card.


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Heather Long said...

Thanks for being a part of the blog hop

Barbara Elsborg said...

Ah the first kiss! Mine was from a french boy! He was a good kisser!!

Jean MP said...

First kiss, at camp, sitting around the campfire with the cutest boy I had ever encountered.
skpetal at hotmail dot com

Danielle Hoover said...

Thanks for the hop! mikiajanai@yahoo.com

Shelly Hammond said...

Wow, Harey sounds like a great powerful book. I really enjoyed reading the excerpt and it left me wondering what happened between the first "first" and the second "first". I really like the cover as well. It's one of those covers that draws your attention to it and it's got an air of mystery about it.
I think that perhaps if one has never been touched with compassion and is always treated with harshness, that first touch of compassion would likely be more memorable than a first kiss. Though if later that first kiss is given by someone who brings compassion and love, perhaps the kiss could top that moment!
As for the spring thing, my very favorite thing about spring is opening up the windows again. I am starting to miss the fresh air!
Thank you for the chance to enter the giveaway and happy spring everyone!
Shelly H.

Natasha said...

Thanks for the chance to win!
natasha_donohoo_8 at hotmail dot com

Arlene said...

Thanks so much for the comments, and Shelly, you're so right about that burst of fresh air to fill the house after being closed tight for months. Happy spring to you as well.

Fred said...

lmao! A man kissing a man right inside a church. You are AWSOME, Arlene.

Arlene said...

Ah, Fred, you are too kind. Thanks for stopping by!

bn100 said...

Nice excerpts

Sheri Vidal said...

My first kiss was with my first boyfriend. And even though we didn't get along when his mom died, I still spent the day with him and hugged him. And I'd like to think I helped him.

smurfettev AT gmail DOT com

Catherine Lee said...

I think for some people, a compassionate first touch can be more memorable than a kiss.
catherinelee100 at gmail dot com

Mary Frances Roya said...

Great tease. Going on my TBR list.

Don't remember my first kiss, guess it wasn't that great. But I do remember my first date with my hubby. 22 years and still going strong.

Thanks for being in blog hop.