Immortal Fire excerpts

Sneak peaks from the newest tales in the Immortal Fire series...


The tree spirit fell silent, an odd expression on his face. "Do you remember when you first came to the village?"
"I do."
"With the other man. Peter. Do you remember how you and he spent summer nights in the garden, so close and so naked?"
William flushed crimson at the memory. He and Peter had been happy then, and thoroughly into each other. Sex happened in every room of the house, and in the secluded garden. "You saw us?"
"How could I not? I saw everything that happened around the tree." He shook his head, features tight with grief. "What you shared, seemed so intimate, so important to you."
"It was."
"Would you hold me like that? Touch me? I have never been touched by a mortal."
The request startled him, and sent a flush of warmth across his skin. "Do dryads have sex with each other?"
"We can and do, if we find a kindred spirit growing close by. But we cannot travel far from our tree. I have been alone for a very long time. I do not want to die alone."
William’s heart leapt within him, full of compassion. It would be so easy to love that shapely body, to explore every inch of the tree spirit’s form. "Whatever I can give, is yours."
"I honour your generosity."
Extending his hand he said, "Come to my bed."
"I took these from the tree cutters. Your people do not go naked," the dryad said, apologetically.
"You are so lovely, you don’t need to hide yourself," William responded, as he pried away the sackcloth. He paused, drinking in the sight before him – lean, hard flesh and a proud erection greeted his hungry gaze. Awareness of his own shortcomings followed all too soon. Working as a museum curator, he had no muscles to speak of and little colour in his skin. Although he walked to and from the train station each day, a persistent layer of fat lurked at his waist. As too many people had told him since childhood, he was nothing much to look at. A forgettable, middle aged man slowly going to seed.
"Do I not please you?" Jack’s sorrowful tone pulled him up.
"Forgive me! It’s awe, not dislike." He reached out, trailing a single finger down the dryad’s hard chest.
"If you don’t want to share your body with me, I understand. I am not like you, and I am dying. Perhaps it was too much to ask."
He panicked at this, afraid of having injured his lovely playmate. "No! Please don’t think that! It’s just... I feel so unworthy of you."
"But you are so full of sweetness and giving, so tender, so warm. I feel that in you."
"I’m too old and nothing much to look at, I’m afraid."
The dryad reached out to him, touching his cheek with a cool finger. "I have lived thousands of years. You are not old to me. Your body is a human one, full of mystery and life. I don’t understand why you feel ashamed of it."
"Other humans have said... I am not good to look at."
"You are everything to look at!" he took William’s hand and kissed it. "Your soul shines in your eyes, fills your skin." He turned the hand, kissing the tender palm. "Don’t fail me now, I beg you."