{"id":281,"date":"2015-12-08T15:13:17","date_gmt":"2015-12-08T20:13:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/?page_id=281"},"modified":"2015-12-08T15:13:17","modified_gmt":"2015-12-08T20:13:17","slug":"like-a-moonrise-edited-by-artemis-savory-cecilia-tan","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/?page_id=281","title":{"rendered":"Like A Moonrise edited by Artemis Savory & Cecilia Tan"},"content":{"rendered":"


\n<\/span><\/strong> \"\"<\/a>ebook $4.99
\nISBN 9781613900628
\n24,940 words<\/p>\n

[wp_eStore_add_to_cart id=108]<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

(this ebook is also available on\u00a0Amazon,<\/a> Barnes & Noble,<\/a> Smashwords,<\/a> Kobo<\/a>, and AllRomanceEbooks<\/a>)<\/p>\n

Shapeshifting is a powerful metaphor for eroticism, and in Circlet Press\u2019s new ebook, Like a Moonrise<\/strong><\/em>, that metaphor is made central to these erotic coming-of-age fantasies.<\/p>\n

Like a Moonrise<\/strong><\/em> is an anthology of six stories featuring original shapeshifters with a coming of age theme.The stories in this anthology explain what the werefox, werepony, and others face as they discover their own changes and the urges and instincts that come with it. Circlet Press moves beyond the now-common realm of vampires and werewolves to explore the sexual lives of different were-creatures with these stories.<\/p>\n

Contributors include Kyell Gold, winner of the Best Gay Fantasy Novel of 2009, Lambda Literary Award winner Rakelle Valencia, MeiLin Miranda, who brings us the backstory of one of the shapeshifter charac- ters in her Scryer\u2019s Gulch<\/a><\/i> web serial, along with Marie Carlson, Catt Kingsgrave, and Aoife Bright.<\/p>\n

Table of Contents:
\nFears-Moon-Woman by MeiLin Miranda
\nThe Moon, Reversed by Catt Kingsgrave
\nCycles by Marie Carlson
\nOn the Run by Kyell Gold
\nWerewhat by Rakelle Valencia
\nThe Winter Prince by Aoife Bright<\/p>\n

Hot excerpt from The Moon, Reversed, by Catt Kingsgrave<\/p>\n

Leontius Senecus Saturnus stood in the soft dungeon and watched his prisoner sleep.
\n<\/span>
\nIt had been a hard hunt, and a long one; Leontius\u2019 slaves had been almost as frightened by their quarry as by their master. Had he not been among them when they brought the beast to bay just after moonset, Leontius might have lost far more than one horse and a little blood.<\/p>\n

He glanced away from the cell at the high dungeon window, and winced. His shoulder had responded well to a healing charm, but it was still sore, and if he pulled away the sticky collar of his robes, he could just see the bite scar over his Sigilus.<\/p>\n

Leontius turned to examine the wound in the long bronze mirror hung beside the scourging post. Two dozen ruddy pearls now glared against his spell-etched skin, where a day ago had rested the symbol of his share in the Witch King of Albion\u2019s power. An hour ago it had been a deep, bloody ring\u2013a gory wound that crushed the eagle, split the laurel, and halved the fasciae when he turned his neck just so. Leontius bore a little worry that Albionicus might have noticed the disruption in his spell-web of loyal mages, might heed the rustle enough to realize that the Scion of Saturnus was to blame for it, might turn his eye from the upstart Cadeyra and her mad rebellion, and release his frustration at the unruly Celts and their Battle Queen upon a more convenient annoyance.<\/p>\n

He stroked a careful finger along the ring of bruise, and shivered. Yes, he would have to see a proper healer about the shoulder, and soon.<\/p>\n

Still, the triumph of the morning\u2019s hunt remained intact, for the tooth marks were fading away while Leontius watched, but his captive, disarmed and unconscious, was going precisely nowhere.<\/p>\n

Cian Nechtanus slept, curled into a corner of his cell where the watery sunlight did not pierce the shadows. His hair gleamed with far more silver than a man so young had any right to, and the gloom could not disguise the bruised exhaustion haunting that face, even in sleep. Apparently the life of a rebel and a bandit was not one of comfort. Or perhaps it was the wolf curse that had left such marks upon the Celt Leontius remembered his father setting free as a boy. A slave who turned monster during the full moon was hardly worth keeping, after all, and Ricimer Saturnus had been too fond of the boy\u2019s mother to kill him outright. Had he known what a thorn in the Empire\u2019s side the little beast would become, though, Leontius liked to believe his father would have drowned the pup with his own hands.<\/p>\n

Still, now the witchwolf was caught, Leontius could not resist a smirk as he examined his old slave through the bars. A canny creature, whether on feet or in fur, Nechtanus\u2019 pelt carried a bounty nearly as large as the damned Cadeyra he followed. But no matter how bold the wolf\u2019s raids, nor how great the mage or army ranged against him, not one of the King\u2019s Magi had been able to come near the man. Luck, madness, or the strange, wild magic of the Celts always managed to intervene, and Nechtanus never failed to make the most of it.<\/p>\n

Leontius had not told his peers among the Magi of his plan to try hunting the witchwolf in the pre-dawn gloom of the full moon\u2019s turning. Perhaps for that very reason, he had succeeded where no other had managed it. He almost regretted that his plans could not include parading his captive before the seething eyes of the Mages\u2019 court; now it was too late for any of them to either block his success or to claim it as theirs. Still, even without the garnish of a public gloat, the hunt had been well worth the trouble. The bitten Sigilus on Leontius\u2019 left shoulder gave a doubtful throb, and he idly rubbed his thumb over the barely-there swelling.<\/p>\n

He\u2019s a creature of instinct<\/em>, Leontius assured himself quietly as the memory of wild yellow eyes surged up to rattle his satisfaction. Nechtanus\u2019 face, so calm in slumber now, had twisted into a beastly snarl in the pre-dawn gloom as the naked man charged through the circle of spears, roaring like the wolf he had been mere hours before. He never thought I\u2019d remember his escapes to the keeping caves as a boy. Understandable that he\u2019d panic when we cut off his escape, and him unarmed, without his serpent or staff. No doubt his mind was still more than half animal, for all his flesh had returned to a man\u2019s.<\/em><\/p>\n

He stroked the bruise once again, took a deep breath, and then tugged his collar straight. Even a Druid cannot curse with his teeth<\/em>\u2013this bite meant nothing. Means nothing.<\/em><\/p>\n

A rustle behind him, and Leontius spun on his heel. But it was only Nechtanus stirring in his sleep, brow knit as though barely aware of his audience. He stretched a little, then settled again, far too relaxed, Leontius thought, for a beast in a cage, too peaceful for a bandit unarmed and naked in the stronghold of his enemy. Liquid in languor, and somehow elegant despite the battle scars and blue-inked swirls that raked so brightly across his pale skin. Leontius traced the lines with his eyes, fascinated despite himself. He was a man used to perfection in all things\u2013a robe stained was as likely to be discarded as cleaned, a lover marred was a lover forgotten. So what was it about this hard-used man, this son of a slave, that made Leontius\u2019 eyes linger?<\/p>\n

He rolled his shoulder again, feeling the throb\u2013not pain, exactly\u2013answer with an echo much lower down. Perhaps it was the elegant helplessness of the man. Such frantic, violent resistance to capture, only to settle into it now\u2013and not only settle in, but to somehow\u2026expand to fill it with his presence\u2026 with his\u2013<\/p>\n

Eyes.<\/em> Open, gleaming like lanterns in the dark. Leontius\u2019 whole skin tightened, from lips to bollocks, and though he managed not to show his reaction outwardly, it was several seconds before his heartbeat slowed. By which time, the captive had blinked, changing the angle of his head just enough to douse that eerie glow and resume once more the seeming of a naked man lounging on a thin pallet against the wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know you.\u201d The voice was low, perhaps a little ragged, but otherwise unruffled. \u201cOld Saturnus\u2019 son, the younger one. Leontius,\u201d he said, then again, lower, as though trying the fit of the name on his tongue, \u201cLeontius. What do you want from me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing which is yours to give, I\u2019m sure,\u201d Leontius found his voice at last, so relieved to hear it come out with precisely the level of smooth contempt he\u2019d intended, that he elected to overlook the uninvited use of his familiar name.<\/p>\n

Nechtanus blinked and raised up to his elbows, but made no other move to collect himself. \u201cThen why am I here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou find your accommodations lacking?\u201d Leontius drawled, \u201cYou\u2019d prefer an oubliette, or perhaps a questioning cell within easy reach of the rack and brazen bull?\u201d The equipment in the soft dungeon was intended for torment of a very different sort, which tended toward rather less permanent damage. Most of the time.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be more like the Leontius I remember, yes.\u201d And there was wariness in those amber eyes, but somehow the man\u2019s body reflected none of it. How could he sprawl so and still somehow display nothing? Was it an animal\u2019s ignorance of its own nudity at work here, or did the wretch somehow not feel the weight of Leontius\u2019 eyes on his skin?<\/p>\n

\u201cI could torture you, yes,\u201d Leontius answered, running a flogger\u2019s studded falls through his fingers, \u201cHowever, any information I might wring from you would come too late to turn any tide, and breaking you into pieces would rather ruin you for the use I actually had in mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nechtanus raised a curious eyebrow, and Leontius saw no point in dissembling. \u201cI know a lost cause when I see one, wolf. The King\u2019s Magi are a shattered force; we are as like to fight each other as your howling rebels. King Albionicus\u2019 mind has crumbled under the weight of his crown; he offers us no real protection now. A fool could tell it\u2019s only a matter of time before your vicious little Cadeyra chases him down and pries him out of his fortress. Then once his skull is swinging from her chariot, and the Magi are groveling at her feet to beg for scraps\u2026 well.\u201d He smiled, shrugged with one shoulder. \u201cYou are here, Cian Nechtanus, as a token, not a source of information or entertainment. You are a bargaining chip which I intend to reveal when the time is right. Damaging you would merely lessen your eventual worth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nechtanus sat up at last, exposing white, lean chest, roseate nipples\u2013one flanked by long stripes of scar\u2013a swirling confusion of ink and scar beneath the dusting of hair that wandered down the planes of his belly toward\u2026.\u201dAnd just what do you think this life of mine is worth, Leontius?\u201d The smirk in his voice dragged Leontius\u2019 eyes back up to the witchwolf\u2019s face at once.<\/p>\n

\u201cPersonally, not much.\u201d He did not blush at being caught\u2013Saturnus men never blushed. \u201cHowever, you are valuable to your allies\u2013the Cadeyra in particular, seems quite possessive of you. I expect you to win me nothing less than my freedom, once all the shouting is over.\u201d<\/p>\n

One eyebrow rose. \u201cFreedom?\u201d<\/p>\n

Leontius scowled. \u201cYou find that amusing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom a magus who willingly accepted Alaunus Albionicus\u2019s brand, I find it hysterical,\u201d Nechtanus replied, leaning against the wall and dropping his feet to the floor. His cock rolled into one creased thigh and lay there, as heavy and smug as the wolf\u2019s own voice. \u201cYou don\u2019t want freedom, Leontius, you never have. Power, yes, wealth, fame, as much as you could get, but freedom?\u201d He shook his head. \u201cYour father wanted that. Your brother too, before his suicide, but not you\u2013you want something else entirely.\u201d<\/p>\n

The knowing voice scraped down his back, coiled like a bad meal in Leontius\u2019 stomach, and for a moment, he was almost relieved at the flash of anger. Just the distraction his dignity required. \u201cOh, and you suppose you know what that is, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n

But the wolf\u2019s smile only deepened, grew fangs a little. And the curl in Leontius\u2019 stomach sank lower in direct response to that gleam. \u201cOh yes,\u201d Nechtanus replied, \u201cI know exactly what that is.\u201d<\/p>\n

Leontius let a curl of his lip convey the depth of his disbelief. Nechtanus made no explanation though, and his predatory smile did not waver. The throbbing in Leontius\u2019 shoulder made him less than patient, and so it was he who broke the silence at last. \u201cWell then, let me hear what you think you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

And at that, Nechtanus stood up. Uncoiled in a single, long slide. The patterned ink and scars glided like shadows over a body sculpted with want and war and grief, but somehow the damage seemed regal in that too-small cell\u2013worn with unconscious pride, like the tiger\u2019s bars, the griffin\u2019s cockade, or the stallion\u2019s mane. As much a mark of strength, those flaws, as the lengthening member that swung between Nechtanus\u2019 legs as he approached the bars with measured strides. Leontius did not step back. The man was unarmed, his next transformation a month away, his allies scattered wide across Albion to hunt the war to its bloody end. Leontius did not step back.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d said Cian Nechtanus, and curled both hands around the bars of his cage, \u201cI don\u2019t think I will tell you, Leontius. But open that door and bring my staff back to me, and I just might show you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Leontius scoffed. \u201cWe may be losing this war, Nechtanus, but I assure you it is not through that sort of idiocy. I like you just where you are, and armed with nothing more than\u2026\u201d he glanced down at the man\u2019s cock, which was already more than half hard for some reason Leontius couldn\u2019t fathom, then back up to his face. Nechtanus\u2019 eyes were closed, his mouth opened, his tongue curled out just so much over his teeth as he drew in the air. His nose wrinkled, and that was close enough to a smile to make Leontius\u2019 neck burn.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood day, Nechtanus,\u201d he snapped, turning on his heel and stalking across the dungeon.<\/p>\n

The dry whisper of a laugh followed him, and a gentle call halted him on the threshold. \u201cCall me Cian.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d he glared over his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want you to call me Cian. When you come back again. Don\u2019t forget.\u201d And then he turned away, just as if Leontius weren\u2019t standing there\u2013as if Leontius hadn\u2019t once owned his wretched hide; had not captured him in the hills only that morning; did not now command the keys to the cage that imprisoned him\u2026as if Leontius did not particularly concern him at all.<\/p>\n

It took all his willpower not to rise to that bait, though later, sated after dinner and fortified with excellent wine from Gaul, Leontius could not for the life of him explain why that should have troubled him.<\/p>\n

* * * *<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat in Orcus\u2019 name have you done to me?\u201d<\/p>\n

The wolf lifted his head, unhurried, blinked twice, and then sat up. \u201cLeontius. Rather late for a visit, isn\u2019t it?\u201d His sleepy gaze took in Leontius\u2019 haphazard robe with no tunic beneath it, his rumpled hair and bare feet, \u201cHaving trouble sleeping?\u201d<\/p>\n

Leontius clutched his robes tighter, grinding his teeth as silk dragged across the sticky head of his cock\u2013so hard it was sore, so desperate it wept in threads down his naked thighs. \u201cI am not \u2018visiting,\u2019 you dog,\u201d he snarled, snatching one of the more vicious flagellae from its wall hook, \u201cI want to know what you\u2019ve done! This curse, or whatever it is\u2013you\u2019re to take it off at once. I have stayed my hand from you, offered you no injury and no insult, and I will not stand for\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

Nechtanus\u2013Cian<\/em>\u2013tipped his chin into the air, took another of those open-mouthed sniffs, this one loud and long, so that Leontius could hear the air scraping over his soft palate. The wolf was smelling Octavia on him, Leontius realized as Cian\u2019s cock gave a lurch of interest, smelling the sweat and sex and anger and need on him. Another twitch, and a darkening flush spread over that cock as the wolf shivered. Then his eyes blazed open, knowing and smug and damn him!<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIs she very angry with you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Livid!<\/em> Leontius thought, Insulted, and hurt, and DAMN YOU!<\/em> but aloud, he said nothing, merely seethed as the captive rolled to his feet and padded to the bars.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re confused,\u201d Cian said after a moment, \u201cUnderstandable. But you\u2019ll get used to it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will not get\u2013\u201d Leontius seized the bars, snarling in Cian\u2019s face. \u201cYou will undo whatever it is you\u2019ve done, or by Jove I swear I will\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou won\u2019t,\u201d came the level reply, curling like a hand around Leontius\u2019 bollocks, \u201cYou can\u2019t, for the same reason you couldn\u2019t spend before, with your wife. Tell her I\u2019m sorry, please, but there\u2019s no changing things at this point.\u201d Cian trailed one hand down the bar, and grazed his palm lightly over Leontius\u2019 bloodless knuckles. \u201cYou\u2019re mine now,\u201d he said, \u201cnot hers, not Albionicus\u2019s. Mine. And your pleasure won\u2019t come from anyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2013!\u201d Leontius snatched his hands away, fumbled the flagellus through the bars and jabbed the end at Nec\u2013Cian\u2019s\u2013throat. His blood boiled, and his breath knotted under that weighty yellow gaze. \u201cYours, am I?\u201d he snarled, and with his other hand, cast a spell meant to twist the wolf\u2019s every muscle, every sinew into a rictus of maddening pain.<\/p>\n

Except that what came out of his mouth sounded much more like the spell to release the lock, which confirmed things with an unhesitant \u2018snick.\u2019 The barred door gave a creak, swung ajar. Cian gave him a nod and an approving smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Leontius,\u201d said the yellow-eyed Celt, pulling the door wide. \u201cDon\u2019t run.\u201d<\/p>\n

Heart in his mouth, Leontius whirled for the door.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t get three strides before eleven stone of naked Celt bowled him over from behind. Leontius shouted as the flagellus jolted from his grip and skittered across the floor. Before he could stretch after it, Leontius found his wrist snared, his arm dragged up behind and pinned between his shoulders. He grunted as Cian clambered astride his hips like he was a mountain pony, grinding Leontius\u2019 still-hard cock into the floor even as his own heated member pressed down like a brand through the bunched-up silk robe. The crush on his tormented cock was blinding. And yet\u2026<\/p>\n

And yet somehow it made his bollocks tighten, made him arch back his head, rock up his hips and bear into that steely pressure, frotting the tight-pressed creases of his robe in desperation, and managing\u2013only just managing not to whimper. He flexed his fingers, but couldn\u2019t pull free of Cian\u2019s grip\u2013dug against the floor with his toes, but couldn\u2019t dislodge that solid, anchoring weight. In fact, what purchase he could find served only to shove his arse up against Cian\u2019s cock as he untied Leontius\u2019 belt and pulled it free.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo\u2013\u201d Leontius gasped as the emerald silk pooled across the back of his neck, then kissed his jaw as it slithered to the floor, \u201cYou can\u2019t mean to\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

Cian interrupted with a pleased sort of growl deep in his chest, then he rocked forward, low and hard against Leontius\u2019 back as he gathered a handful of his hair. He didn\u2019t pull, didn\u2019t tear or twist, just held it in an inexorable grip that whispered I could, if I chose; if you provoked me.<\/em><\/p>\n

And that unspoken understanding dragged a groan from deep under Leontius\u2019 belly as Cian\u2019s lips grazed his ear.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you,\u201d he growled, \u201cnot to run.\u201d The ragged stubble of three days without shaving snagged the silk, and a moment later, Leontius felt the fabric catch more firmly in the predator\u2019s teeth. Cian growled in his throat as he dragged the cloth down Leontius\u2019 shoulders, exposing his sweat-cold skin. Leontius made a sound he\u2019d never imagined hearing out of his own throat. It burned, that sound, hot as a furious blush across his face even as it sparked a yearning ache in his trapped cock.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to chase you when you run,\u201d Cian went on, fingers gentling, massaging against Leontius\u2019 scalp as he rocked into the crease of his arse with endless rolling surges. The rough chin burned against Leontius\u2019 Sigilus like a brand, made him gasp and roll his head to expose more\u2013neck, jaw, throat. \u201cAnd once I catch you, I have to\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He\u2019s going to\u2013!<\/em><\/p>\n

And Cian bit down hard.<\/p>\n

To read the rest, download the ebook today!<\/em><\/p>\n


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ebook $4.99 ISBN 9781613900628 24,940 words [wp_eStore_add_to_cart id=108]   (this ebook is also available on\u00a0Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, Kobo, and AllRomanceEbooks) Shapeshifting is a powerful metaphor for eroticism, and in Circlet Press\u2019s new ebook, Like a Moonrise, that metaphor is made central to these erotic coming-of-age fantasies. Like a Moonrise is an anthology of … Continue reading Like A Moonrise edited by Artemis Savory & Cecilia Tan<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"parent":871,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-281","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/281","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=281"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/281\/revisions"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/871"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=281"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}