{"id":55,"date":"2016-10-11T21:06:06","date_gmt":"2016-10-11T21:06:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/?p=55"},"modified":"2025-12-11T17:52:28","modified_gmt":"2025-12-11T17:52:28","slug":"rawr-write-a-thon-update-and-excerpt-5","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/?p=55","title":{"rendered":"RAWR Write-a-Thon Update and Excerpt #5"},"content":{"rendered":"

Hey guys! We’ve got just 3 days left after today to get those donations in for the RAWR Write-a-Thon. You can donate with the PayPal button on the right of this site, or through the Write-a-Thon participants page on the site at\u00a0http:\/\/wat.rawr.community<\/a><\/p>\n

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My current wordcount is 28,443 of my 35,000 word goal.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Below is an excerpt from the current novel project of Simon, our magically-inclined black and white fox having some one-on-one time with Cyril Understone, the Achilles Club’s librarian. This is, like all of the excerpts, a rough draft and one that I will definitely need to have looked over by extra sets of eyes in order to ensure fair and decent representation. For now, this is the scene.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PLEASE Be aware that this scene contains adult situations between two males. If this does not seem like something that interests you, please feel free to skip it.<\/p>\n

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<\/p>\n

Simon watched the evening mist rising up from the moor, catching the faint sliver of moonlight passing through the clouds. The dark and the fog obscured the ground so completely that the old house might as well have been standing on an island, all alone. The hills in the distance loomed over the plain, cutting off the horizon from view.<\/p>\n

The fox\u2019s tail lashed back and forth.<\/p>\n

Francis\u2019s pleading eyes stared helplessly at him from the depths of his memory as the police hauled him away. In the end, it was the right decision. Of course it was. It had to be, didn\u2019t it? Francis was dead. Even if they didn\u2019t get him out of that pit, he would just vanish from this world when his time was up. Then he could be recalled.<\/p>\n

He was helpless here. Without access to the books in the magical libraries of the Club, or access to a skilled enough mentor, he could not hope to do anything that would make a difference against the Followers of the Void.<\/p>\n

The failure was his own.<\/p>\n

He could not force the others to help him. He needed to fix this mess, and not burden anyone else with the weight of his error.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn it all to hell,\u201d he said, slamming a fist against the creaking wood of the windowsill.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can think of more productive uses of our time, Mr. Bartholomew.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon\u2019s fur bristled. He looked to find Cyril Understone standing in the middle of the room, regarding him with something resembling pity.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did you get there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA librarian, above all, knows how to be quiet, Mr. Bartholomew,\u201d the marten said, flashing Simon a small smile. \u201cMiss Mather is tending to some of the wounded with the help of that old priest. A few of the others are drawing wards of protection about the house and grounds.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon nodded. \u201cVery good, though I don\u2019t know that we can stay here for very long.\u201d<\/p>\n

Understone tilted his head and twitched his whiskers. \u201cWhy would you say that?\u201d<\/p>\n

The fox ran a black paw through his head fur. \u201cBecause our enemy is on the move. We cannot hide here and let them have free reign over London.\u201d<\/p>\n

Understone sat on the soft feather-mattress of the bed, paws folded in his lap. \u201cSometimes, Mr. Bartholomew\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cSimon. Please, call me Simon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSimon,\u201d the marten repeated as though tasting a foreign dish on his palate. \u201cSometimes discretion is necessary. I will grant you that it has not happened for quite some time, but this is not the first time the Club has been driven into exile and lacking in resources. We have always persevered.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe club always had strong leadership before. They had ways of knowing when the worst was coming.\u201d Simon crossed and sat next to the marten on the bed. Without intending to, he had sat a bit too close, and the shape of the bed had slid him closer. He could feel the warmth of the marten\u2019s body through his clothes. He thought of Francis again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have an excellent leader, Simon. In you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI nearly got everyone caught by the police!\u201d Simon barked, feeling the frustration and helplessness slither up from deep inside and threaten to seize around his heart.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, you did not. It was thanks to you that we managed to escape as we did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps. But I do not feel better about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Understone smiled again. \u201cThat just goes to prove that Candlemere was right in choosing you for membership.\u201d<\/p>\n

Had he been? Certainly he\u2019d been given a safe haven to indulge his lusts, but wasn\u2019t he just that? A plaything?<\/p>\n

Simon thought back to all of the times that he\u2019d given himself to Candlemere and the other members of the Club. The fox was little more than a highly paid, highly sought-after prostitute, in the end. He saw in his vision the release in the faces of his lovers.\u00a0 <\/span>Not just physical release of ecstasy, but something deeper.<\/p>\n

They\u2019d put their trust in Simon, to be the agent both of physical and emotional catharsis that they could not receive in their quotidian lives.<\/p>\n

And then there was that first eve of all souls, when he had donned the Club\u2019s robes and participated in the Ritual of Joining, with Francis as the conduit by which the new initiates were bonded to the club, and to each other, by their desires and by their seed.<\/p>\n

The energy released in a ritual like that was of immense value to practitioners of the mystical arts like the Achilles Club\u2019s inner circle.<\/p>\n

Was that all he was? Another source of energy? He wasn\u2019t good for much else, and certainly not leading.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo not doubt yourself so much, Simon.\u201d<\/p>\n

The fox looked up, shaking loose the idle memories of his past encounters. He shifted uncomfortably. The heat from the marten\u2019s thigh combined with the memories, and the scent of the librarian\u2019s musk created a most unwelcome situation in Simon\u2019s trousers. Now was not the time. Everything was on the brink of collapse.<\/p>\n

And yet\u2026<\/p>\n

Understone placed a paw on Simon\u2019s thigh.<\/p>\n

\u201cI must admit that I did not know what to make of you when you came to us. I entertained similar thoughts to those you probably have about yourself now. I wondered if you were just another plaything for Candlemere\u2019s experimentation in ritual magics.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then, something fascinating happened. Francis became enamored of you, and you of him. And it was genuine. I had never seen so much of the mystical energy released at one time as I did when you made love upon that altar.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon shifted, trying very hard to be subtle about the action.<\/p>\n

\u201cI learned then that you were potentially immensely powerful, but also that you could be trusted,\u201d Understone continued, \u201cNot just because of your predilection towards males, but because your heart was genuinely open to love.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, surely you\u2019ve seen it at the Club before: males who come there to indulge their shameful desires, but who could never truly be a mate for their paramour, even in secret. They come, they come, and they leave. Ties may bind them to the magic circle, but certainly not to each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon fought against the fire growing in his veins. They were outside the safety of the Achilles Club here, even if they were solely among its members in this secluded hollow.<\/p>\n

The marten\u2019s scent though. So much like Francis\u2019s, and yet different. There was something vivacious and alluring about it. The scent of knowledge gleaned from a thousand ancient books and scrolls, and the smell of ink, paper, pigment, papyrus, and even clay. Simon could smell them all.<\/p>\n

Before he could debate back and forth any more, he had grabbed the librarian by the shoulders and locked muzzles. Understone\u2019s eyes widened, and he tensed. Then, he closed his eyes, as did Simon, and relaxed into the kiss. The fox\u2019s tongue flitted into his mouth, exploring the sharp points of his teeth.<\/p>\n

He even tasted a little like Francis, which set the throbbing between his legs alight with electric currents of desire. He let out a little whimper, and slid one paw along the marten\u2019s waist to the button of his trousers. Flattening the paw, he began to slip it between Understone\u2019s legs. Just a little farther\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cSimon, please stop.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon opened his eyes. Understone had broken the kiss and was gazing at him. One paw had caught Simon\u2019s by the wrist and now gently pulled it free of his trousers.<\/p>\n

\u201cWh-what\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSimon, we need to talk about me, and why I\u2019m thought of in the club as peculiar<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou aren\u2019t\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cI know that I am. I am a librarian. I hear things in the silence. It\u2019s part of my job.\u201d<\/p>\n

He flicked his whiskers.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere is a reason you have never seen me partake in the pleasures of the flesh that the Achilles Club offers its members.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon tilted his head, black ears twitching. He could still feel the ache of his erection, yearning for the touch of another. His heart pounded.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy desires are somewhat\u2014er\u2014unusual.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am sure I can meet them. I\u2019ve always done so for clients.\u201d<\/p>\n

Understood shook his head, whiskers twitching again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I mean is that I am not like other males. I do not have a strong\u2026urge.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are impotent, then?\u201d Simon blinked. \u201cThat\u2019s nothing to be ashamed of. If it matters to you, I am able to be the dominant partner\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Simon. That isn\u2019t what I mean. I mean that I don\u2019t have the desire. Not physically and not mentally. It isn\u2019t that I am incapable of lovemaking. I assure you that I am. But for me to be in the right state of mind for it requires so much energy and my nerves are set so on-edge by the act that I simply do not engage in it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon shook his head. \u201cYou are male. All males have the same base needs.\u201d<\/p>\n

Understone narrowed his eyes a bit. \u201cSimon, when I do feel those urges I often take care of them myself, alone. The resultant few minutes of pleasure are not often worth the hours of buildup I have to go through to put myself in the mood, nor the sense of disgust I feel with myself for days after.\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon sighed, rubbing his head. \u201cI see.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt does not mean that I don\u2019t care for you. Quite the contrary! I merely cannot be with you in the particular way you desire at the moment. There are things I do desire in a partner, that perhaps we can engage in, when all of this is over, and if you still wish it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSuch as?\u201d<\/p>\n

Understone\u2019s ears flicked back and he smiled meekly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you know what use the chambers in the cellars have been put to, do you not?\u201d<\/p>\n

Simon did, very well. The memories of the stings along his back and rump reminded him very much of the times he himself had spent down there. Sometimes with the so-called exotics that the club had brought in for specific members to indulge themselves with.<\/p>\n

That one Bengal had the most tender touch with his claws\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand. I apologize if I was too forward.\u201d<\/p>\n

The marten shook his head and smiled once more. \u201cThe kiss was lovely, and I had not explained my particular situation to you. You were not too forward. If anything I was too slow to tell you how things stood.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI just feel so alone right now,\u201d Simon said, fighting back a sudden sting in his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are not alone. We are here with you. Myself, Miss Mather, and the others. More are coming, as soon as they can arrange quiet transportation. And Francis will return to you. If not now, then as soon as the ritual can be performed after the new moon.\u201d<\/p>\n

The marten stood from the bed, straightening his blue waistcoat. He placed his paw on Simon\u2019s shoulder, his amber eyes meeting the fox\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u201cSleep now. We will convene in the morning and begin making plans. The Achilles Club isn\u2019t finished yet, and you\u2019re going to see to that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Without a single creak from the floorboards, Cyril Understone slipped out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.<\/p>\n

Simon turned back to stare out at the last fading light and the rising mists. The librarian was right.<\/p>\n

They weren\u2019t done yet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hey guys! We’ve got just 3 days left after today to get those donations in for the RAWR Write-a-Thon. You can donate with the PayPal button on the right of this site, or through the Write-a-Thon participants page on the site at\u00a0http:\/\/wat.rawr.community   My current wordcount is 28,443 of my 35,000 word goal.   Below […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[3,4],"class_list":["post-55","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-rawr","tag-rawr","tag-write-a-thon"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=55"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":56,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55\/revisions\/56"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=55"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=55"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=55"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}