Yes, it’s me, back again like the proverbial wet weekend.
Humpday Hook is a collection of authors posting bits of their work that beg the question “what happens next?”
I wasn’t too sure what to do for this iteration of hooking so, for one week only, I’m going to be shameless. I woke up this morning to a terrific review from the TBR Pile for my novella Alike As Two Bees, from a reviewer who seemed a bit baffled why she loved the story so much but give it five stars anyway! The review is here plus a giveaway of a copy of the book if you fancy some sundrenched swooning historical romance set in Ancient Greece, and here is a sample as a hook:
Hilarion hesitated for a moment before smiling and getting to his feet. “I must go,” he said. “Thank you for the drink and the shade and the company. And for letting me see your work.”
Philon looked at him, seeing again the warm interest in his eyes, the wistful smile that suggested a reluctance to leave. He realized that for the past hour he had been carefully seduced. That such a thing might happen at some time he had always known. Nikias had warned him to take care and remain modest, and he had done so, but Hilarion did not seem the predatory type. He had, in fact, seemed more interested in Philon’s work than in Philon.
But so he would, Philon reminded himself as he stood up, if he wished to impress you.
He was impressed, and honestly did not feel as though he was being imposed upon, but it seemed that Hilarion, reluctant or not, was about to leave. This struck Philon as a pity.
“There is plenty of room for two,” he protested. “You may use Anatolios’s blanket. I can assure you that he is a clean lad and louse free, for the most part.”
Hilarion grinned. “I believe you,” he said and reached out to wipe a crumb away from Philon’s chin. “But I should still go—sleep well, Philon.”
“Thank you,” Philon said and frowned as he watched Hilarion turn away. It was two paces from the dappled shade of the vines to the brilliant glare of the sun. Philon let him take both of them before he spoke.
“If you didn’t?” he asked. “What then?”
“If I didn’t?” Hilarion’s voice was level as he looked back over his shoulder. “I would most probably ask you to lie down with me.”
The sunlight was harsh on Hilarion’s face, showing the pale lines at the corners of his eyes, the scar on his lip, the coppery shading on his jaw that meant he hadn’t been shaved that morning. Philon would not have used him as a model for any god or hero—his expression was too human for that. Something of need, of hope, shone in the cool blue eyes fixed on Philon, but tension too, as though he was worried that he was making a big mistake.
“And that would be such a bad thing?” Philon asked.