Beharangozó - How We Began antológia {Nyereményjáték}
Sziasztok!
Ezúttal egy LMBT antológia beharangozójával érkeztem, amiben romantikus YA és NA sztorikat olvashatunk. Ráadásul a bevételek jótékony célra mennek, még egy extra ok, amiért megérdemli a reklámot.
A posztban olvashattok egy részletet az egyik novellából, illetve egy nemzetközi giveawayban Amazon ajándékkártyát nyerhettek!
A posztban olvashattok egy részletet az egyik novellából, illetve egy nemzetközi giveawayban Amazon ajándékkártyát nyerhettek!
Fülszöveg:
Hogy kezdődik a szerelem? Egy pillantás, egy gesztus, váratlan segítség egy idegentől... vagy egy jó baráttól. Egy mosoly a pult túloldaláról egy videótékában vagy egy kávézóban. Egy titok felfedése egy dalban, egy másik időből és helyről. Vagy egy szerelmes dallam a sulitáncon.
Ebben az antológiában még soha meg nem jelentetett LMBT történeteket találsz, hét szerző járja körül, hogyan is kezdődik a szerelem young adult és new adult korú párok között. A bevételeket a Trevor Projekt munkájára fordítják, akik LMBT fiatalokat támogatnak, és legfőbb céljuk, hogy megelőzzék a körükben elkövetett öngyilkosságokat.
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Exkluzív részlet
Unexpected Dragons by Delphine Dryden
Ellet. Where was his trainer?
His senses were astounding, everything so vivid around him he almost couldn’t sort it all out. How could he do that, identify all his family, the whole village, just by smell? It seemed impossible. But…there, just by the door to the hall, was a wad of fear and disgust he identified as Ellet. Peering under the remaining thatch he spotted the angry face, nearly as red as his own new skin. Best to withdraw, probably. But…how?
Tap tap tap.
Not Rook this time, and not Ellet either. Elder Ansel was the one jostling his foot this time, with his heavy ceremonial staff. Gesturing with one crooked hand, asking Zev to lean down. He obliged, though the shift of his weight threatened to bring half the remaining roof down around with him.
“Son of Zella, we need you to shift back now, please.”
Yes, sir, he tried to answer. When he opened his jaws, a burp of flame popped out, re-lighting the nearest piece of ridgepole.
No no no.
“And try not to open your mouth, lad. A good habit for many occasions, but never so important as now.”
Embarrassment rushed through him. Could dragon forms cry? He glanced across the wall and saw the villagers gathered in the street, pointing and talking about him. Imagined the picture he must make to them, his big squat body trapped inside the hall, his head and neck sticking out of the ruined roof.
I…will never live this down.
“Remember your training,” Elder Ansel called up to him. “The return is easier than the first change, but most fledglings are able to fly about and learn their new forms for a time. We would rather you refrain from that. So you must focus. Feel your human form. Top to bottom. You are always both, but you can become either.”
Was there an option to sink into the stone beneath the village and never be seen again? Or maybe it would be easier to ignore what Rook had said, to stretch his new-found wings and start flying and just never stop.
The elder was still encouraging him. “Top to bottom, Zev.”
He tried. His mind was a blank. Or rather, it was full of flying and the urge to swoop down, grab his talons around an unsuspecting gazelle from the plains below the crag, and dig his teeth into raw meat for the first time. He flexed his shoulders, just the smallest amount. The crowd murmured uneasily, and he crouched down into himself again.
Ellet wasn’t in that crowd. He was walking away from the meeting hall at speed, heading up the hill toward the cliff. Walking fast, then running as he pulled his tunic off…then changing and flying. A few mighty beats of his emerald wings were all he needed to arrow through the sky, up and over the crag. Out of sight. Taking his disapproval with him.
Zev knew he deserved it, but it still stung.
Tap tap tap.
Not Rook this time, and not Ellet either. Elder Ansel was the one jostling his foot this time, with his heavy ceremonial staff. Gesturing with one crooked hand, asking Zev to lean down. He obliged, though the shift of his weight threatened to bring half the remaining roof down around with him.
“Son of Zella, we need you to shift back now, please.”
Yes, sir, he tried to answer. When he opened his jaws, a burp of flame popped out, re-lighting the nearest piece of ridgepole.
No no no.
“And try not to open your mouth, lad. A good habit for many occasions, but never so important as now.”
Embarrassment rushed through him. Could dragon forms cry? He glanced across the wall and saw the villagers gathered in the street, pointing and talking about him. Imagined the picture he must make to them, his big squat body trapped inside the hall, his head and neck sticking out of the ruined roof.
I…will never live this down.
“Remember your training,” Elder Ansel called up to him. “The return is easier than the first change, but most fledglings are able to fly about and learn their new forms for a time. We would rather you refrain from that. So you must focus. Feel your human form. Top to bottom. You are always both, but you can become either.”
Was there an option to sink into the stone beneath the village and never be seen again? Or maybe it would be easier to ignore what Rook had said, to stretch his new-found wings and start flying and just never stop.
The elder was still encouraging him. “Top to bottom, Zev.”
He tried. His mind was a blank. Or rather, it was full of flying and the urge to swoop down, grab his talons around an unsuspecting gazelle from the plains below the crag, and dig his teeth into raw meat for the first time. He flexed his shoulders, just the smallest amount. The crowd murmured uneasily, and he crouched down into himself again.
Ellet wasn’t in that crowd. He was walking away from the meeting hall at speed, heading up the hill toward the cliff. Walking fast, then running as he pulled his tunic off…then changing and flying. A few mighty beats of his emerald wings were all he needed to arrow through the sky, up and over the crag. Out of sight. Taking his disapproval with him.
Zev knew he deserved it, but it still stung.
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