GENRE: Gay Fantasy Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 17,116 words
RATING:

Dis, the ancient word for Hell, is a world parallel to our own, close enough for its inhabitants to pass back and forth from their realm into ours, collecting souls and tormenting believers.

Charam is a handsome devil who can easily pass for human. It’s an ability that brings him both pleasure and punishment. He loves his partner, Raum, a minor member of Dis aristocracy, but sometimes he slips. He can’t seem to control himself and he strays. It’s what he does. And why not? Apart from the fact he is a demon, the human male form is just too deliciously tempting.

When Raum discovers Charam’s infidelities, Charam vows to mend his ways, but it isn’t long before he's at it again. Ah, the delights of the human cock! The feel of a muscular body, the aroma of male pheromone, and the bittersweet taste of cum!

When his infidelity is discovered a second time, there is no forgiveness. In a rage, Raum conjures up a unique punishment. No scarlet letter ‘A’ for Charam. Oh no. He has something much more beastly in mind.

A lover humiliated is a dangerous thing, and Charam wants revenge. But his little plan goes too far. At first he doesn’t care what happens -- he is hurt and angry -- but a journey into the Wildlands soon changes that.

Is it too late to rescue his beloved Raum? The matter may well be out of his hands.

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

The beasts were distracted only momentarily. The smell of fresh flesh was too overpowering, too deliciously enticing. Two of their number ran at the boulder Charam had just vacated. The more powerful of the creatures almost made it to the top and would have failed had its partner not knocked into the back of it and given it the extra lift needed to scramble to exact spot where Charam had been standing.

Charam swallowed hard. Pain ricocheted through every nerve until his eyes had become blurry with tears and his fangs so tightly clamped together that he could only breathe through his nose; his breaths coming in short, sharp snorts. Blood was now running in snaking trails of crimson from his fingers, down his hands, and along both arms. He could see spots of it on the rock beneath each time he looked down at the beast now jumping up at him.

His arms found the summit of the smaller of the two boulders. He pushed with his feet and pulled with arms until his whole body was trembling from the effort of hefting himself up the rock face. When he was safely on top, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the dull sky. He wept openly, the tears running off his cheeks and splashing onto the bare rock. His hand closed around the stick which, although had made his journey more cumbersome than it might have otherwise been, was a comforting presence.

When the flow of tears had dried, Charam became aware of the sound of claws scratching on rock. At first he lay still and listened, secure in the knowledge that he was well and truly out of reach of the beasts. Then as they grew louder he felt compelled to raise himself to a sitting position to investigate.

He leaned forward and at first couldn’t see where the sound was coming from. As he leaned a little further over the edge of the rock, he saw one of the beasts, its four legs spread wide apart as it battled its way up between the two boulders just as he had done. Immediately he took the stick and jabbed at the determined creature, dislodging it so that it fell backwards onto the rock below where there were now three of its kin waiting.

The beast lay where it had landed, stunned and disorientated. Initially the other three creatures sniffed around it, glancing up at Charam accusingly before returning their attention to their wounded companion. Then one by one they turned to stare up at him, giving him their full attention, teeth bared and ears back against their heads.

Despite the distance between them, Charam took a step back. As the beasts began leaping into the crevice, their claws scratching at the rock to find purchase, Charam wielded the stick. He may have been close to collapse, but he hadn’t come this far to fail. Every now and again one of the snarling curs made it to the halfway point, looking uncomfortably precarious as its thin legs struggled to carry the rest of its body ever higher. Unfortunately for the beasts, Charam was always ready with his stick, hammering them until they fell back to their starting point.

So caught up in the battle of wills was Charam that he neglected to notice the arrival of a newcomer at the base of the rocks. It was only as the beasts simultaneously turned to face this new arrival that Charam realised he was now defeated. There was nowhere to run, and even if there had been, he was too exhausted to attempt an escape.