| Author: | L.J. Longo | ISBN: | 9781301958948 |
| Publisher: | L.J. Longo | Publication: | November 3, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | L.J. Longo |
| ISBN: | 9781301958948 |
| Publisher: | L.J. Longo |
| Publication: | November 3, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
“Before the Rain” is short story which follows Ciaran, a fifteenth century monk struggling to deal with his conflicting faith in God and the Catholic religion and his lusts for another man.
Excerpt from "Before the Rain":
The monk turned watching Sean as he circled the stump slowly. His boots sank into the yielding earth. His strides were confident and strong, like the muscle in his legs. His tunic stretched to fit his body and was as grey as the sky over head. His face, rugged and at the moment stern, was browned by the sun that dared not witness this day.
When Sean planted his feet firmly into the earth, he stood directly before Ciaran, who continued to stare up at him, satisfied with this view of his tempter.
Ciaran’s body froze when Sean crouched down before him, his thick knees framing the monk’s vision and his left hand touching the earth between them. Ciaran only looked at him again when Sean’s right hand touched his face.
Sean smiled. He had said once that Ciaran had enough fear in him for both of them, and he always seemed amused by the monk’s desperate shyness. Sean leaned in to kiss him. Ciaran moaned quietly, felt like he could taste the soil in the man’s lips.
Ciaran shivered as Sean pressed closer lowering one knee to the ground, afraid of the swelling lust that accompanied the kiss, the closeness. Yet he didn’t resist, he lifted his hands around the man’s powerful shoulders, embracing his sin.
“Before the Rain” is short story which follows Ciaran, a fifteenth century monk struggling to deal with his conflicting faith in God and the Catholic religion and his lusts for another man.
Excerpt from "Before the Rain":
The monk turned watching Sean as he circled the stump slowly. His boots sank into the yielding earth. His strides were confident and strong, like the muscle in his legs. His tunic stretched to fit his body and was as grey as the sky over head. His face, rugged and at the moment stern, was browned by the sun that dared not witness this day.
When Sean planted his feet firmly into the earth, he stood directly before Ciaran, who continued to stare up at him, satisfied with this view of his tempter.
Ciaran’s body froze when Sean crouched down before him, his thick knees framing the monk’s vision and his left hand touching the earth between them. Ciaran only looked at him again when Sean’s right hand touched his face.
Sean smiled. He had said once that Ciaran had enough fear in him for both of them, and he always seemed amused by the monk’s desperate shyness. Sean leaned in to kiss him. Ciaran moaned quietly, felt like he could taste the soil in the man’s lips.
Ciaran shivered as Sean pressed closer lowering one knee to the ground, afraid of the swelling lust that accompanied the kiss, the closeness. Yet he didn’t resist, he lifted his hands around the man’s powerful shoulders, embracing his sin.
