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About Deeply Gravely Quite Anxiously Concerned, A BBA Ménage story

by Peter Medeiros
85 pages / 21300  words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-184-5
Ebook zipped file contains - html, lit, Adobe and Sony optimized pdf, prc, epub

Howard Pearlman and his sometimes lover, the roguish Sir Brandon, are members of the arcane Manchester Theosophical Society. In the midst of the group's power struggles, Sir Brandon introduces a new element -- the lissome, mysterious Miss Shayla Vaillancourt. Despite his reservations, Howard lets Brandon talk him into a steamy threesome.

Howard wakes to find Brandon gone on business, leaving him snowbound with Miss Vaillancourt. Howard is suspicious and jealous of the woman, all the more so when strange noises begin to fill the mansion. Still, Howard finds himself passing the time pleasantly with her in studies both magical and romantic. But when Sir Brandon returns with news about the fate of the Society, Howard will need to struggle to save both their relationship and the practice of Theosophical magic in Manchester.

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Sample

Before long Howard was forced to return from their flight, having forgotten to maintain respiration back in his body and nearly suffocating himself. Miss Vaillancourt seemed dimly amused by this, but suffered no such effects herself. Indeed, whereas reentry left Howard's heart hammering in his chest and his rediscovered breath quick and shallow, the woman was hardly fazed at all.

Yet she did not comment on this, did not lord it over poor Howard. She merely disappeared into the untended kitchen (the roads were, if anything, less passable than before, and the servants had not been able to make it back to the estate) and returned with hot black tea for the two of them. Howard reclined against a sofa on the floor, unable to stand from exhaustion, when Miss Vaillancourt handed him the steaming cup. From that angle, he found his eyes drawn to the robe she still wore, now loosened at the collar. From that position, he was able to see a good deal--

Until, collecting himself and fighting the impulse, he wrenched his gaze back to meet the woman's eyes. She was looking right at him.

"Miss Vaillancourt, I--" But how to apologize? They had just had an out-of-body experience. Besides, they'd already seen each other -- more than seen, they'd—

Well, at any rate, an apology would just sound childish. No more childish than you've been, but childish all the same. He stifled the explanation on his lips and averted his gaze.

A long, soft hand brought his gaze back to match hers. He stared into her eyes. They were dark, the irises nearly sable, giving the impression of massive, dilated pupils.

How had he missed that before?

She leaned down again, and Howard could feel her breath on his face. It smelled faintly of ginger. "Propriety has no place with magicians, Howard. You can call me Shayla."

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