
About Deeply Gravely Quite Anxiously Concerned, A BBA Ménage
story
by Peter Medeiros
85 pages / 21300 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-184-5
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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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