Solis: Modern Descendants

by elda lore

  “Is that my painting?” Behind the bed, the original image created by Veva, left behind when she departed, hung as a backdrop to the new arrangement. I continued to draw her closer to the new structure, lifting her to crawl to the center of our haven. Her hand swiped over the silky covering.

  “It’s like being in a cloud.” Gauzy material in a silvery tone draped like a canopy and hung around the four posts, giving the corners an airy feeling and the enclosure some privacy.

  “I told you. I want to make love to you in the sky. This will have to be close enough.” My mouth came to hers, reestablishing the hours lost since I’d seen her.

  “It’s officially day thirteen,” Veva said, breaking away from me.

  “My lucky number,” I chuckled before taking those peachy lips again.

  “I’m sorry, again, that I was late.” She spoke between kisses. “There was a cloud. And a cow. And…”

  “A cow?” I chuckled.

  “It’s a long story. I can tell it to you later?” Her lids lowered, but her lips curled. My mouth found hers one final time. Later was good for me. In fact, our time was as infinite as the stars in heaven. A thousand days. A thousand years, as long as she loved me. We picked up where we left off in the shower. Hands roamed. Pleasures discovered, but I wasn’t complete until I entered her and we were one.

  “I love you, Sunshine,” she purred, as we moved, dancing the slow rhythm of rolling clouds over a summer sky.

  “I love you.” My life was complete, as now I had one bed, one roof, and one woman under me, who claimed my destiny.

  Epilogue

  VEVA

  Solis stood behind me on the plateau as we overlooked another spectacular sunset. The days grew shorter as August turned to September. He meant what he promised, he followed me. The living arrangement would have been awkward had Persephone not agreed to let Solis move us to a house near campus. I didn’t want to live another day without him, but I couldn’t leave Pea. Not yet. Her room was on the first floor, giving us the privacy of the second.

  In the quiet of the cool evening air, I recalled a few nights prior when Solis removed the rock necklace from me and slipped it over his head instead.

  “Hey,” I snapped. Naked and poised between my thighs, the heart shaped stone lay against his sculpted tan chest. I imagined he could feel the lingering warmth, radiating from me, in the heat of the rock against his skin. Covering it with his palm, he leaned forward to kiss me. The pendant fell between my breasts as his lips lingered on mine. The stone tickled, and I giggled into his mouth. Drawing back a short distance, he reached for the heart and began to draw over me, delicately tracing swirls over my skin. He started on the flat of my chest and worked up the range of my breasts, dipping into the valley between and continuing his manuscript over me. He brushed down to my waist, then rushed up to my throat.

  “You know I love your neck.” He bent to kiss me there.

  “You love all of me,” I teased.

  “That I do,” he whispered, letting the rock dangle from his neck as he pressed upward and slipped into me. My breath hitched as it always did, stealing the oxygen from me as he entered me. I didn’t need it where he’d take me: higher and higher until I flew. Solis loved to race, and some nights we fought a battle until the end, but that night, we floated, soaring together.

  “Do you remember the other night?” His mouth sucked at my exposed neck as he broke into my very same thought.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you like my painting?”

  Confusion hit me. Maybe we weren’t thinking of the same night.

  “The one I drew on you.” He reached forward and removed the leather strap inside my shirt, dragging the heavy rock to tease up my skin before releasing from the neck of my T-shirt. The motion confirmed his thought was the same as me.

  “I wasn’t exactly clear what you drew. I was distracted by the naked artist doing the painting,” I teased. He nipped at my neck again, and I shivered with pleasure, rubbing my hand over the arm wrapped around me. Heat radiated from his tanned skin despite the growing chill.

  “I sketched out stormy clouds and steamy sunsets. A lightning bolt down the center to claim you as mine.” His voice deepened, and my head tilted so I could see him behind me. We’d both wrestled with doubts, at first. Solis didn’t know what he’d do in the human world, but Zeke allowed him to continue learning the mechanics of a multi-million-dollar olive oil company. I struggled to face each one of Solis’ past lovers, but his continual reassurance that the future held only me helped.

  “I also asked you a question in my scrolling.” His throat rolled as he swallowed and I watched him toy with the rock in his hand.

  “Really, what was that?” His eyes shifted to mine, that honey color melting to caramel before me.

  “I wondered if you’d wear another rock from me.” He gave a little tug on the pendant, giving the strap a gentle pull on my neck. His curling lips teased me.

  “If you found me another heart shaped rock, I’ll have Heph make me more jewelry.”

  Solis nodded and I worried that thoughts of our brother would take over the moment. Heph had left for Hestia’s, as he said, shortly after the broken engagement. I didn’t want to ruin the sunset with our mutual concern for the tender spirit of our gentle giant.

  “Well…oh, look.”

  In a move that replicated the same one he used the first time he took me rock climbing, he dipped us toward the gravelly covering, his arm wrapped around my waist, holding me to him, so I wouldn’t fall as he promised me. Standing upright almost as quickly as we bent to the side, Solis’ hand cupped something inside. Releasing my waist, he used his free hand to open my palm, supporting mine with his.

  “Would you wear this rock from me?”

  Thick fingers placed a gold ring in the center of my hand, graced with a heart-shaped diamond.

  “Solis?” My voice squeaked, tender and uncertain what he was asking me.

  “Would you wear this rock from me?” He spun me to face him, but my eyes hadn’t left the gem sparkling up at me, reflecting the light from the setting sun. On further inspection, I noticed the diamond reflected hues of gold and pale yellow. A smaller set of silvery diamonds outlined the large center.

  “It’s a yellow diamond, rarer than rare, and rivaled only by the sun.” His thick finger swirled over the jewel as he explained. “The outside are diamond chips, giving off that cast of silvery gray. Sunshine in a cloudy day.” His voice lowered as he explained and my eyes finally fluttered up to his.

  “Veva, I don’t want to spend another gray day without you. It won’t always be sunshine, but I promise not to rain every day. I promise more steamy sunsets and romantic rising suns and making love in the clouds, if you’ll only promise to take the chance with me. Veva, will you marry me?”

  Stunned, a moment passed before I answered. I didn’t feel the tears raining down my cheeks because the love inside me heated their chill away.

  “Persuade me,” I teased, curling up one side of my lips.

  “Vee,” his voice dropped as a hand swiped through his blond hair, but I stepped closer to him, forcing contact from my breasts against his chest. I slipped the ring on my third finger and lay my hand flat on his firm pecs.

  “Vee?” he questioned, but his eyes didn’t leave my answer.

  “Yes, Sunshine. Yes, yes, yes. Now kiss me.”

  WHAT’S NEXT FOR

  MODERN DESCENDANTS?

  HEPH

  Heph Pre-Order

  Blurb:

  Phyre has a haunting past. The girl without a last name and fire in her hands burns with a history of destruction to save herself. Solace is finally found in the cozy comfort of Hestia’s Home, a place for women who need hiding. Just like her five surrogate sisters-in-solitude, Phyre yearns to extinguish memories and rekindle her spirit. Her plan blazes forward until he arrives.

  Hephaestus Cronus considers himself an ugly man. A near-death accident left him disabled but not without h
eart. His gratitude lies with the protection of his foster mother, Hestia. Running from a failed relationship, Heph only desires the familiar fires of the hearth at her home. Burned from the heartache, Heph never expected to spark a new flame in the rose-bud-cherry-haired girl missing a name.

  This modern tale of Hephaestus, the metal working god, rights the wrong of a crippled man failed at love. Here the flaming passion he deserved as an under-recognized god is written in a new fashion with the fiery spirit of a woman who ignites true love between these twin flames.

  +++

  Heph (Chapter 1)

  “What the hell?”

  I spoke aloud to myself as the tire thud-thud-thud, forcing me to a halt on the two-tire path in the woods. It was hard enough to find the entrance to Hestia’s property. Turn right at the large boulder, head south three miles. Search for the gravel road. At the curved tree, enter a barely visible trail leading into the thick forest.

  The evening light of the northwest made it harder to see in the first place under thick coverage of the trees. A puncture to the tire would result in finding the rest of the drive-in darkness.

  A puncture, as that’s what had to have caused the flat.

  The first arrow whizzed past the windshield at enough speed I questioned the object. I dismissed it for a low hanging twig. The second one was unmistakably recognized. The long shaft with a narrow head hit the driver side window and repelled backward. My 2016 Camaro was no match for a flimsy piece of wood, but when something hit the tire, I rethunk my thought.

  I stalled the car and exit to find a thin shaft sticking out of my front tire. A tender tug with my thick hands and the stick came clean, but the damage was done.

  “Kids,” I cursed, believing wayward children scrambled through the forest as their playground. A sharp poke to my back made me think otherwise.

  “Turn around. Slowly.” The voice was distinctly female. Feminine and sweet, but sharp like the point of the arrowhead and quivering like the release from a bow. Whoever she was, she wanted to sound tough. Turning as she directed, I came chest to face with a minion of a woman. Her head hardly reached my shoulders, her frame almost as slim as the arrow pointed at my lower region.

  “Don’t move.”

  Considering where she had her weapon aimed, I didn’t plan to cross her, although the differences in our stature was almost comical. I stood over six-four and twice her width, maybe three times. A large man by nature, my only curse was a limp from a false leg hidden under my jeans.

  My hands lifted slowly in surrender and her eyes traveled the expanse of me. Under a cap that covered her hair and a scarf over her mouth, the next thing to pierce me were eyes the cobalt blue of rare sea glass. Smoky, but brilliant, my breath caught in my chest and I choked on the very air I needed to breathe. Her eyes opened wider as she stared aback at me and a moment passed where I felt as if she recognized me. My heart thumped in my chest, like an eager pet happy at the return of its master. In that thirty seconds, I sensed this woman owned me and I was thrilled to have her home. But her eyes squinted and the recognition passed.

  “oh rrrr ew?” she muttered through the scarf. Still froze in the awkward position of her arrow at my zipper and my hands in the air, I didn’t fully understand her. My hand lowered, thinking only to remove the scarf from her cheeks, but she flinched sharply to her right, and it gave me the entrance I needed. Snap went the arrow aimed at my dick. Holding up the two halves, sliced by my finger like a broken pencil, she blinked at me. My heart fell to my feet like Icarus falling from the sky. A thud even echoed back to me. I’d frightened her and it showed in those smoky blue eyes. Instantly, she straightened and took a large step back. Using the bow as her next weapon, she leveled the tip to my chest.

  “Stay back,” she snapped, removing the light lavender colored yarn covering her mouth and revealing lips in a deep, magenta-purple color. My mouth watered, thirsty for a sample of such a rich color, curious if they taste as juicy as a plume.

  “Look,” I spoke, my gruff voice rippling around us in the enclosure of tightly packed trees. “You’re the one who shot my car, so don’t suddenly look afraid of me.”

  “I’m not frightened.”

  The harsh sound of her voice even excited me. Stop it, Heph, I cursed myself. I wasn’t interested, I argued. I’d been burned enough by women. Even a quickie in the back of my car wouldn’t satisfy me. I was here to forget women, not forge my way through another them. Oh, the irony, of where I was headed.

  “Look, maybe I can help you. Are you lost?” I turned my head left and right, knowing where the narrow path in the growing evening could lead. No other inhabitants lived near Hestia’s Home. That was its purpose: to be hidden and harbor those it housed.

  “Do you know Hestia?” I questioned with a tilt of my head. It was the only answer to wandering the woods so close to her home.

  “Do you?” she snarked, and I had to smile a little. She reminded me of my sister, Veva. Feisty and terse, Veva could sting.

  “I do.”

  “How?”

  “How do you?”

  Her eyes pinched again, the expression telling me, no, warning me, it was none of my business. Taking another quick scan of our surroundings, the darkness grew deeper under our covering. I wouldn’t be able to see to fix the flat unless my huntress helped me.

  “Maybe you could help me with the tire?”

  “Maybe you could just follow me?”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise until I realized she meant, I could lead, as her prisoner, and she poked my back with her damn bow. The crunch of heavy leaves and snapping twigs under foot gave warning to any wildlife. A giant and his capturing mouse proceeded through the jungle-green foliage of the wooded northwest. Although, not all the leaves remained green as fall settled in slowly and the colors changed subtly to yellows and oranges and browns.

  If I stalled to look with my wandering gaze, a sharp pinch to my lower back reminded me of my warden. Unafraid of her, I dredged forward knowing I’d have to return in the morning to retrieve my vehicle and hope all the parts remained after my tyrant issued me over to Hestia.

  In front of us, the house appeared as if from nowhere, plopped down in a large, circular ring of cypress and pine, serving as centurions of protection. The white house stood two stories high with a plethora of windows on each floor and a large covered porch on the front. A huge barn to the side, several feet from the home housed the small factory where Hestia taught her trade, and where I’d learned to control fire myself as a child. A billowy cloud of white puffed out the large chimney which meant the fires inside were hot. The house had the same effect only small plumes rose from the three stalks, smaller in wispy trails as they reached for the sky.

  The air was chilly this far north and I was thankful for my lined flannel shirt and cap. The warmth inside the house before me enticed me further. A prodding at my back reminded me to keep walking. When I turned for the side door, I surprised the peanut behind me, but she’d soon learn I was as familiar with this home as her. Opening the door, helping myself to enter, I found Hestia in a position I often would: stoking the fires in an old-fashion hearth, complete with copper pots on one side and a large black kettle on the other. The stomp of my feet signaled for her attention and she turned quickly. Her blazing smile welcomed me, and for the first time in months, I relaxed.

  “Hephaestus, my darling,” she addressed me as she approached, her tiny frame opening her arms to take me in although I was twice the size of her. White-blonde-haired, and weathered skin, she wasn’t old, although comparatively to her siblings, she was older. The oldest of the three daughters of Titus: Hestia, Hera and Demi, she lived hidden here versus the family farm in Nebraska.

  “You’re so late.” She pulled back from our embrace, holding onto my thick forearms.

  “I was detained.” I looked over my shoulder and found I blocked the view of my captor. Stepping left, the minion stood exposed and a bit perplexed by the warm greeting.

  �
�I seem to be captive to this one.” I nodded in the direction of the muse still covered by scarf, hat and fingerless gloves. Removing those first, delicate fingers wiggled with relief. The ends of her nails were short with the look of grease under them. Next came her scarf, wound triple around her neck, revealing skin, pale as a china doll. Finally, her cap slipped off her head and a tumble of rose bud cherry colored hair fell past her shoulders. My heart leapt at the color that matched her lips and my chest rose and fell as I took in short breaths of air. Her blue eyes sparkled in the reflection of the flaming hearth, and I suddenly wanted to lay her down in front of it, mapping out each inch of white skin and slipping fingers through that vibrant color teeming off her head.

  “I see you’ve met,” Hestia said, breaking my stare. “She’s a little spitfire, isn’t she?” Hestia chuckled as her hand slipped over my elbow and her head rest on my bicep.

  “A little spark of something,” I replied roughly, my lips twisting at the strange attraction after my sudden break-up. It had to be lover’s remorse. The need to replenish the loss. I shook off the burning sense of recognition again. The feeling that I knew her and she knew me.

  “My name is Phyre. And I’m the whole flame.”

  Heph Pre-Order

  Let’s be friends: Newsletter

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

  No imaginary tale is complete without the reality of those how help make it something magical. In many ways, it starts with you – the reader, willing to take a chance as an author writes in another genre, and then loves my characters as much as me. You have made my fantasy a reality each time you select one of my books, so thank you. A cairn to the moon to thank you.

  Additional queens of making fantasy a reality include, Amy Queau of QDesign, for another enticing cover as well as Kiezha Smith Ferrell from Librum Artis Editoral Services. Another shout out from the mountain tops to Michelle Mankin, author, for her eye for magical twists and Karen Fischer for her eye at finding everything I miss.