Wes and Kit, page 12
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more stories in this world:
Robert and Louie
Hired to redecorate the Skeffield country home, Louie is both attracted to Robert Skeffield and abashed by him in equal measures. Louie, who favors bright clothing and has never been called butch in his life, has little in common with gorgeous, masculine, and closeted army officer Robert. But not everything is as it appears, at Skeffield Manor or in their hearts… Takes place after "Wes and Kit"
This story contains some minor steampunk elements, magical elements, mysterious elements, flirting, a dog, and a strawberry-colored waistcoat.
Sensual rating: very low - Length: 30,500 words
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00N396T6O
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00N396T6O
Mystery at Skeffield Manor
Old friends, new friends, magic and mystery…
Join Wes and Kit, Robert and Louie, and their friends and family at Skeffield Manor. Except that there is mischief afoot here…in the beautiful country home and with a mysterious magical object.
A story told from multiple points of view. This story contains some magic, some steampunk elements, and has a low-medium heat rating. ~62,000 words
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RAS3MJQ
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00RAS3MJQ
Gear Heart
Living with a gear heart made from magic and machinery, Auden knows his lifespan will be shortened. Now a second-class citizen, he's part of the household of Dr. Gregory—the man who stitched him back to life years ago during the war. And now Dr. Gregory is being threatened.
A friendly (sometimes too friendly) police officer named Owen is assigned to help protect the aging doctor. Auden could resent the policeman who's come to help with security. Instead, he finds himself drawn to the attractive, flirtatious Owen, who somehow doesn't let Auden's cold nature scare him away. And that holds a different kind of danger for Auden's heart.
Length: 23,600 words - Steampunk elements - Steamy: yes
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KUI3AN6
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00KUI3AN6
Like A One-Eyed Cat
Jimmy's not good at trusting people. He grew up a chimney sweep and starving alleyway scruff. Even now, fully grown and an army veteran to boot, he's half-wild and only trusts one man, "the boss," a gentle man he works for occasionally. Jim certainly never intends to trust anyone else, but then he ends up working an investigation job for the boss next to a scarred ex-soldier with surprisingly gentle ways.
A touch of mystery, low sexiness, light steampunk elements. ~21,000 words.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JV613BE
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00JV613BE
Cold Hands, Warm Heart
Jason is self-conscious about his metal arm and uncomfortable with his sexuality. A big, quiet guy who intimidates a lot of people without even trying to, he works as a cook — and has a hopeless crush on his friend, Dr. Kingsley. Will Jason ever have a shot with his friend? Or does life have a different curveball to throw him?
Approx. 22,000 words — A steampunk-themed gay romance.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TQ8IJ82
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00TQ8IJ82
Excerpt from "Mystery at Skeffield Manor"
"I think it's wonderful of the Skeffields to invite us to their party," said Kit, carefully undoing the buttons on his shirt. "They certainly didn't need to."
"I almost wish they'd invited us earlier," replied Wes, eying his partner's chest with appreciation. "It sounds as though we missed a lot of excitement."
"I am glad of that," said Kit ruefully. He turned, bare-chested and resplendent, to give Wes a smile. He was a slender man with a weak chest (though doing well lately) and warm eyes, intelligent and careful with his hands. He was also kindhearted and clever with machinery, a gentle and considerate man—and most of all, Wes loved him wholeheartedly.
"Darling." Wes moved forward and caught him, kissing him impulsively. "Of course." How could he have forgotten the ordeal his beloved had gone through? "You don't mind going back to the estate, do you?"
"Oh, no, as long as security is tight."
"It is. It will be. Robert's promised."
Mr. Skeffield's son, Robert Skeffield was an ex-army man, not unlike Wes. They both shared the same medical condition as well, having been mechanicalized during the war several years earlier, brought back to life and kept alive using mechanical and magical means. Though luckier than some, the condition caused fear and hatred among many regular people. Robert had so far managed to hide his condition, with the help of his rich father. Wes hadn't been so lucky and had been in difficult straits before meeting Kit.
He didn't like to think about the fact that he was basically living off Kit. Paying jobs were still few and far between for men such as himself, and his boyfriend, who was in poor health but diligent, basically kept them (and their rowdy little dog, Lolly) alive by his clock repair work.
At least Kit was doing marginally better since his last visit to the heart specialist. The adjustment to his medicine had made a slight difference, and he was visibly less wan and exhausted after physical exertion.
Which was quite nice for their lovemaking—not to mention everyday living.
Now Kit grinned at him and began to work the rest of Wes's clothing off, kissing his scarred flesh as he revealed it, inch by inch. They didn't speak a lot about the visit after that, but moved by degrees to the bed, and did what they loved best, taking care of one another with a tender sweetness, a need that never grew old.
#
Lolly woke Wes, barking up a storm. He listened for a moment, hearing what sounded like a knock on the front door. It was early, and Wes scowled as he crawled out of bed, grabbing at his trousers and glancing back worriedly at his partner. He didn't want Kit to have to wake up before he must. The trip to Skeffield Manor would be a long and arduous one, even if it was mostly by train. He needed his sleep.
"Shush, girl," called Wes, tripping over one of his shoes. He bit his lip to keep from cursing.
Lolly wagged her tail at him unrepentantly and proceeded to the door, her ears at high alert.
Since she and Kit had been held captive and hurt by two criminals trying to find a treasure hidden at Skeffield Manor, she had appointed herself even more firmly their protector. It was clearly her duty, in her little doggy mind, to be as vigilant as possible. She was especially protective of Kit, and seemed to view him as her young.
The knocking at the door was insistent, but seemed to be growing weaker. The dog and man glanced at each other—as if she could tell him what it was, for pity's sake—and then he hurried to the door and yanked it open, even though he wore only the trousers he'd hurriedly pulled on.
Bare-chested, scars exposed to the cool night air, he faced a stranger. "Yes? Who is it?" he asked sharply.
A man leaned there, pale-faced, smeared with blood. He sagged in the doorway, as if the last of his energy was gone for good. "You've got to…reach…"
He slumped forward, the last words unsaid. He lay very still, halfway fallen across the threshold, his blood smeared like a macabre painting around him.
Lolly began to bark hysterically. For one awful moment, Wes was frozen. Then he knelt and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but the man lived.
He lifted him gingerly and pulled him inside.
"Wes?" asked Kit sleepily from behind him. "What's wrong?"
Wes spoke as calmly as he could, but his hands and his voice shook. "Someone is trying to die on our doorstep. Call the police and the ambulance. We must stop him."
It had been a few years since his last battle, and he'd always done well in an emergency, but this reminded him unpleasantly of the war, where one moment everything was normal and people were drinking coffee and complaining about the cold, and the next—everything had gone far, far too wrong.
Kit made a sound in his throat, a kind of gasp, and hurried to the phone. Lolly crowded round Wes's ankles unhelpfully as he drew the man indoors and tried to staunch his blood flow. That involved finding his wound first, however.
"Kit! Kit!" he cried in alarm, raising his voice in desperation. "He doesn't have a pulse—he has clockwork!"
Kit put down the telephone quickly. "So…I can't call for an ambulance?"
They looked at one another in despair. The hospitals wouldn't treat mechanicalized men. They faced a great deal of discrimination, and that was one part of it. Perhaps the worst.
Kit put down the telephone and rushed over, checking the man competently. He was bleeding profusely. "His heart doesn't seem to be damaged," he commented. "But all those cuts. How do you suppose he got them?"
"I don't know. But we can't let him die here," said Wes desperately. He pressed on the worst of the wounds with strong hands, but the man had lost a great deal of blood. "There must be someone who can help."
Kit bit his lip, then nodded. "There… there's a man in town. I overheard someone talking recently, and… they gave me his name. I wrote down his address so we could contact him someday, when it seemed appropriate. He helps mechanicalized men. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you. It kept slipping my mind, I suppose."
"Well, for pity's sake, let's go to him. I'm not sure we can keep this man alive ourselves."
Kit was skilled with clockwork, and Wes had a soldier's knowledge of battlefield medicine. But the man was dying, and they needed expert help—someone to transfuse blood, someone to work magic to give the man extra healing strength: something more than good intentions and common knowledge.
Kit sprang to his coat hanging by the door and dug into the pocket. "Right. Here. I had it in my jacket. We'll take him right there. If they can't help us—"
He let the words die off. There was no point conjuring that picture before they needed to face it.
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Hollis Shiloh, Wes and Kit
