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    34 Results with the "MM Fiction" genre


    • VIII – The Sacrifice Cover
      by — Here lies the beauty from the falls, the lion from his vision. His Roman captive burns hot when he sleeps, never waking no matter how indelicate the druid’s touch. Aedan’s thumb pushes at an eyelid and reveals a lily pad floating in the white, its dark center growing with exposure. Smooth skin stinks of cooking fire and soft nipples taste of roasted rabbit. He sits, relishing how that muscular gut feels against his bare crack. Cock in hand, he grazes the tip over the Roman’s swollen bottom…
    • XIV – The Month of Honey – I Cover
      by — The Bucarati kips upon glossy mudflats. The vessel resembles a timber beetle with its tightly bound sales and dangling oars. It slumbers as men till the wet sands beneath its rudder, digging that will ensure the incoming tide washes her away. Alps-born legionaries crowd her surface planks. They wear fur over their shoulders and wool on their extremities. None are clean-shaven, not even their newly minted leader, Lucius Scipio Servius, whose beard shines golden like the short coils on his head. His…
    • XXIII – The Major Domo Cover
      by — The tarn beside Villa Servi is a typical alpine splash, its airless depths never mingling with the surface water, yet Lady Vita insists it shimmers like the Adriatic when the sun is just right. Welletrix the Veragros knows nothing of the sea, let alone one named Adriatic, but he’s seen his share of lifeless lakes. Caeso and Optio laze on the front porch until he disrupts their tranquility with an authoritative bark. The house cats laying with them are immune, their laziness forgiven after nightly…
    • XXXVII: The Drunken Bath Cover
      by — Crimson rivulets swirl into the grate, drinking the ritual’s bloody remains. Aedan empties another bucket of water over his head, then upends it atop his basted rags, a lopsided pile of pale red. Cardamon oil forms prismatic clouds upon the water’s skin, its heady scent filling the humid air. Of all the luxuries imposed while living among these wolves, he most enjoys their aromatic baths. The steamy pool lures him into its satiating embrace. Ears full of warmth, he surfaces so the chill can bite…
    • XXXVI: The Last Leaf Falls Cover
      by — A line of gray rises from the woods, but smokeless chimneys draw him to the village. No guard walks the wall. The smithy forge has gone cold, and courtyard braziers full of wood stand without flame. Pigs slumber in their pen, tightly packed mounds unmoved by his investigation. Knocking on doors yields no one, so he sets off for home under the fading day. Along the main road, he spots the villagers filing down the ridge. Two-wheel carts break up their procession, pulled by young men and full of…
    • II – The Owl Cover
      by — His life is defined by how much pain he brings his mother. Twenty-two years ago, Ciniod left her princely father’s house to live with a coastal druid named Fintan, who, for all his holistic prowess, never suspected her already caught. Her pains began on the autumnal, and her unborn babe insisted on coming out ass first. The old druidess tending the delivery cut her belly to liberate him, and she reminds her son of this trauma every time she forces a fart. Aedan the Ancalite is a bony sort with…
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      II – The Lion

      I – The Lion Cover
      by — His name is Lucius Scipio Servius, or Skipio to those who call him friend. His shorn head shines like ripe wheat, and he stands taller than most, with a robust frame and pleasingly deep tenor. His piercing, verdant eyes come darker than river moss, and his chiseled face boasts a captivating mouth no man can resist. Vitus Servius is his father. A patrician with a vast orchard in the Lepontine Alps, he also farms a thriving walnut grove, its crops famous throughout Rome. Unfortunately, his only son…
    • XIII – The Ancalite Wedding Cover
      by — Lucius Vitus Servius once said that rivalry within ranks festers like flesh rot, and if a general ignores it, he’ll lose a man as quickly as a leg. Julius recalls his old friend’s observation as he watches the murdered man’s son glower at Kombius, a prince of the continental Atrebates. The more concerning bit of flesh rot, however, is Titus Labienus, who listens with jowls tight in resentment as the noble speaks of his time as an Ancalite prisoner. Before their first campaign on the island,…
    • III – The Calm Before Cover
      by — Longhouses cover the white expanse while half-built ships stretch for miles along the shoreline. The majestic forest is gone, its slenderest remains fueling barracks stoves, its thickest trunks now backbones for Caesar’s flat-bottom boats. Roman victory kills more than those on the battlefield. Like locusts, the legions consume everything. They slaughter livestock and leave those natives unfit for enslavement to starve. One of them, Decurion Servius, marches through the snow, his furry boots crunching…
    • IV – The Set Stage Cover
      by — Haze blankets a sea that burns silver under the high sun. Shadows appear along the vanishing point, first five and then ten, until there are too many ships to count. Continental refugees decried the fleeing prince Mandubracius and his deal with the Roman wolves. Those fresh from the fight said continental warlord Dumnorix fought hard before his fall. They whispered of impending sabotage and a hidden armada—but alas, it’s now clear that Dumnorix, is as dead as his ships. “The wolves paddle across the…
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