Jump to content

All Activity

This stream auto-updates     

  1. Last week
  2. JohnnyC

    William

    Paul, Thank you for the latest posting ! The boys are feeling a bit randy now that they are boyfriends , Too cute ! Cheers, John C .
  3. Castaway Hotel Book 2 Chapter 37 38 Bill W The Trial 5: Cynical Faith Chapter 17 Cynus Lawn Boy Chapter 16 David Lee William Chapter 5 Paul Jamison The Scars Above My Heart Chapter 8 Sean E
  4. I'm back for another weekly chat to keep things active and to shamelessly introduce myself as a new author with a new book. Without further ado, here is a little intro: One summer at their house in the South of France is much like all those previous summers. Except this year is different. Milo turns sixteen, and when his father employs Estevo, to fix things up, attractions and revelations mix with family problems, and a long held secret. Milo will no longer be able to retreat and hide in the imagined worlds of literature. He will be tested and played with by his cousins and this new arrival. Exactly what is going on between these two families risks erupting into a thunderous climax and a deluge of emotions as heavy as any summer storm! Chapter One The trees cast dappled shadows in long streaks, striping the ground and breaking up the sunshine, a stark contrast to the clear, pale blue sky. A hint of damp lent a chill freshness to the early morning air, which promised to disappear with the heat of the day. Milo pushed the hammock and watched it swing sluggishly back and forth. Devoid of life. Left abandoned as if grieving its own emptiness. How would he survive the entire summer, alone, waiting, like the hammock? No one else was awake; he was by himself. The only sounds were those imbued by nature. The tap, tap, tap, of a woodpecker resounded from somewhere inside the forest, but he couldn't see it, hidden as it was by the dense shade. The deeper you went, the more sombre it became. He tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the darkness, but when he was alone like this, it troubled him. It was almost inevitable that his thoughts would drift there. “Milo! Milo!” Turning at the sound of his mother's voice, “I’m coming, maman!” He reluctantly moved a step towards the rear veranda of the old stone house. “You should wear a jumper outside,” she smiled. His mother, as usual cheerful, was putting the bread and freshly brewed coffee on the rough wooden table. Like the house itself, that old table must have reigned centre stage in the kitchen for centuries. There should be a certain reassurance given by those things, places, and objects, that have stood the test of time. But the old house had always scared Milo. As a child, his imagination had warned him of hidden monsters lurking in abandoned corners or watching from the shadows of the forest. “Your uncle will be here today,” his mother announced as she placed the blue and white ceramic butter dish next to the loaf of bread. Sitting at the table, he recalled his cousins pushing him into the attic and shutting him inside, in the cobwebby gloom. They'd made fun of him when he cried, calling him a sissy and crybaby. They had always bossed him around. His uncle, like his father, was kind but distant. The two men spent their time in each other’s company, joining the family for meals and an occasional outing. But even on those rare occasions Milo usually found himself surrounded by women, his mother, her sister, and his cousins. Left to his own devices, he would dream of imagined worlds where brave knights rode stallions and defeated fiery dragons, cut down ugly monsters and set the world to rights. However, his cousins would drag him reluctantly into their fantasies. Dress him up as a baby, or give him the role of a servant. In their more risqué adventures, he would be the patient. His eldest cousin was the doctor, the younger, the nurse. “Eat something, it’s a long time ‘til lunch,” his mother said, having already laid out jam, cheese, and ham. She looked at him. Moved closer and brushed the hair back from his forehead. “I think you need a haircut. You can’t stay all summer looking like a street urchin.” A street urchin, he pondered the words. It was like a description straight from a novel by Dickens. His mother always had an inexhaustible vocabulary when it came to these sorts of expressions. It was easy to imagine they had been handed down from one generation to the next, like family heirlooms. “Tomorrow!” She exclaimed somewhat excitedly as if suddenly struck by a revelation. “Your father is going into town. I’ll telephone and make an appointment.” It was settled. No point arguing. In any case, he had nothing else to do, and he could escape his cousins. He finished buttering the slice of bread and reached over for the jam. His mother left the room, satisfied everything was in order. The town wasn’t really a town at all, just a village. It had a tiny weekly market, post office, general store, and baker. This set it apart from many other French villages where the last shop had long since disappeared. Those were ghost villages where all that remained were a few elderly people and a majority of holiday homes which only saw anybody during the summer. There were a rather large number of hairdressers for a village, as if the French as a race were preoccupied with their coiffure, which undoubtedly was true. His mother would visit the hairdresser regularly, a fact that made it all the more surprising he was being sent alone. Invariably she would accompany him, forcing him to sit and wait for hours, enduring the unwelcome attention of Maurice. It was bad enough sitting in the barber’s chair having the middle-aged hairdresser’s hands roaming all over his head. When accompanying his mother, he also succumbed to the piercing eyes scrutinising his body, which made Milo feel as if he were being appraised. No doubt, he was. Although Maurice was a harmless, but incorrigible old folle. His mannerisms and affected speech left no doubt that he was as gay as Gay Paris, from where he originated. The only question in Milo's mind was, how he ended up in a tiny village in the South of France married to Madame Fournier? That would remain a mystery forever, because he was neither willing to engage Maurice in conversation, nor to raise the topic with his mother. There were boys his age in the village, but he never felt the need to seek out their friendship. He was content with his own company and happy to spend the day in a comfortable spot reading. He could get lost in a good book, in another reality, in someone else's life. He'd had to walk the old bicycle he'd borrowed from the shed the three kilometers back home from the village one time when it had got a puncture. He hadn't even tried fixing it. Other people’s problems seemed more easily solved than his own. Their lives much simpler, their difficulties minor. How long could he remain a bystander watching life pass him by? Hiding from everyone. Though he didn't like to admit it, he suspected not for much longer. He was growing up; things were expected in the natural course of life. Natural. What did that even mean? Was he unnatural? No way was he the same as Monsieur Fournier. The shade had all but disappeared, replaced by sunlight which covered most of the gardens around the house. The hammock was protected by overhanging branches, offering a cool respite from the rapidly rising temperature. Milo slowly heaved himself into place, careful to maintain a balance. Propping a cushion behind his head, he picked up the book and flicked it open. “A large cask of wine had been dropped and broken, in the street. The accident had happened in getting it out of a cart; the cask had tumbled out with a run, the hoops had burst, and it lay on the stones just outside the door of the wine-shop, shattered like a walnut shell.” Milo was lost in the world of eighteenth-century France and the machinations of a convoluted plot. Only reluctantly did he put the book down when disturbed by the noise announcing the arrival of a car. No doubt his uncle, aunt, and cousins. Slipping out of the hammock, he found his flip-flops, picked up the book, and made his way back to the house. “Milo!” His aunt pulled him into a hug as Corinth and Amelie stood watching. Uncle Morris was embracing his father and shaking hands. Everyone making the usual small talk. “My, how grown up you look!” His mother kissed Corinth, then Amelie, the younger of the two. Then it was Milo’s turn, he quickly kissed each girl and stood back watching the scene. They migrated towards the house, leaving their luggage in the car. Milo’s mother invited everyone to sit down at the old kitchen table. It had been moved outside onto the veranda, where it would stay all summer. “You got a girlfriend?” Amelie asked Milo, grinning at her older sister. That’s it. They’ve started. Milo was determined not to acquiesce to the girls’ games. “No, I don’t,” he replied curtly. Amelie frowned. Corinth clucked her tongue. They both turned in unison to find a place at the table that suited them. For the rest of the lunch, Milo ignored them, content to let everybody else talk. Which mainly meant his mother, aunt, and cousins at one end of the table and his father and uncle at the other. He did listen when there was anything to listen to other than gossip. He replied politely when addressed, but otherwise was quiet. That afternoon Milo was left alone. His cousins were occupied with unpacking, amongst other things. His parents were probably catching up on events with the family. He was back in the hammock, lost in his other world. “Tellson’s Bank by Temple Bar was an old-fashioned place, even in the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty.” Milo smiled to himself, relaxing in the warmth of the afternoon sun, certain he would not be disturbed until later. “... the partners in the House were proud of its ugliness, proud of its incommodiousness. They were even boastful of its eminence in those particulars, and were fired by an express conviction that, if it were less objectionable, it would be less respectable.” Milo wondered if his mother thought the same about their family house. Did she like this place because of its ugliness? Was she proud of its incommodiousness? He rather thought not. She simply accepted it as it was, as it always had been. It was in fact not at all ugly, but attractive in a sort of tatty chic kind of fashion. Objectionable? That word stuck in his mind. Was he respectable by way of being objectionable? Exactly like his cousins, but in an entirely different sense. He let the book drop to his side and drifted off with his thoughts into an afternoon siesta. Download a free ebook from here: The Gay Fiction Library Happy reading, until next time (comments are welcome!).
  5. I'm enjoying this story a lot... as I have Sean's other stories posted on CR. Thanks for writing and sharing it with us all, Sean. TT
  6. Castaway Hotel Book 2 Chapter 35 36 Bill W Three Finger Cove Book 5: Matthew Chapter 33 Chowhound The Trial 5: Cynical Faith Chapter 16 Cynus Lawn Boy Chapter 15 David Lee The Stay Behind Kid Chapter 10 Gary Conder Learning To Fly Chapter 9 Jesse James The Scars Above My Heart Chapter 7 Sean E
  7. Earlier
  8. Hi Max, Thanks for the quick note and I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Hopefully you are all caught up as chapter 27 will be released in the next few days here. Thanks, Lindon
  9. Glad that you are enjoying. There are 33 chapters altogether in William and I think coming out every Monday... Paul J.
  10. Where's the effing link to the stories? This website is so lame.
  11. JohnnyC

    William

    Hello Paul, Just wanted to say thank you for sharing your stories with us here at the castle. I’ve enjoyed reading the 4 chapters posted so for “ William “ , I look forward to reading the next when posted , Thanks again, John Celestre .
  12. Castaway Hotel Book 2 Chapter 33 34 Bill W The Trial 5: Cynical Faith Chapter 15 Cynus Lawn Boy Chapter 14 David Lee William Chapter 4 Paul Jamison The Scars Above My Heart Chapter 6 Sean E
  13. Hi I love this storie it is Verry emotional. thanks. Max
  14. I'm wondering if there is a secret door to be discovered? Some hidden passage that gives access to the castle. My submission of two weeks ago is still pending moderator approval, so not a lot of chance that you get to read it unless I post it here perhaps? My quest for the way in was prompted by seeing @Mark Driver managed to get an audience in the Court of Castle Roland and must have managed to speak with a noble bard as he is a new author here. I took a look at the admin list, curious about who might be around running the show. I found only two people present, Al Norris, who I already knew was here and active, plus a JP Caballero who posts the notices of new chapters. Although, I'm not sure the latter isn't a robot? As for the rest of the administration, D'Artagnon and Emperor Roland appeared a month ago, Ken Barber two months ago, Denis P four months ago. The rest of the team seem to have faded away over time, The Castle Herald, last showed up ten months ago, AB a year ago, Mary two years ago, and Eghas four years ago. This may explain the thread looking for new Admin staff - I volunteer! 🙋‍♂️ Yes, you heard me right. I would be happy to review new author story submissions and approve them, starting of course, with my own. I'm not sure how you can run a site with only one person or maybe two if you are not active here on your own forum? There is practically zero activity on forum posting and waiting two weeks soon to be three, four, five... for a story submission to be moderated you have to admit is, well, long! On the positive side, people read this, looking at the number of views, but that doesn't help too much with getting past the moderation block? Any thoughts anyone?
  15. Thank you John. Glad to hear you appreciate Kerq's adventures with his wayfarer boy. I am working on a new one. Setting will be modern times. Best regards Mark
  16. Hello. I'm Mark Driver. I wrote fanfiction for a few years and then moved on from there. Thank you to the Castle Community for welcoming me. I hope you enjoy my 1st story here, The Wayfarer Boy. Best regards Mark
  17. Hello Jesse, Thank you so much for the latest chapters , Jarred is a great older brother too . I was happy that he gave the puppy to Jesse & the trip to six flags will be a blast for the 3 of them . Just scared about Willie possibly attacking jesse , But Jarred would kick his butt, Cheers for now, John Celestre
  18. Hello Chowhound , It was some great reading with the surprise birthday party for Matthew! He so deserved it too, Thank you for sharing this latest chapter with us , Cheers, John Celestre
  19. Hello Mark , Thank you so much for this loving and adventurous story with us ! . I look forward to any new stories you might share with us. Cheers, John Celestre
  20. Castle Roland presents A new author Mark Driver and his short story The Wayfarer Boy The Wayfarer Boy Short Story Mark Driver Castaway Hotel Book 2 Chapter 31 32 Bill W Three Finger Cove Book 5: Matthew Chapter 32 Chowhound The Trial 5: Cynical Faith Chapter 14 Cynus Lawn Boy Chapter 13 David Lee The Stay Behind Kid Chapter 9 Gary Conder Learning To Fly Chapter 8 Jesse James The Scars Above My Heart Chapter 5 Sean E
  21. Castle Roland presents A new author Mark Driver and his short story The Wayfarer Boy
  22. Castaway Hotel Book 2 Chapter 29 30 Bill W The Trial 5: Cynical Faith Chapter 13 Cynus Lawn Boy Chapter 12 David Lee Durch Ferne Welten Und Zeiten Chapter 14 David McLeod William Chapter 3 Paul Jamison Sands Of Time Chapter 37 Roland The Scars Above My Heart Chapter 4 Sean E
  23. Last week I talked about support for new writers which addressed a couple of issues around site admin, what is meant by sexual content, and the submissions process. It's clear that if your story is rejected you are told why and what you might do. Perhaps the dialogue between new author and site admin could be more complete, perhaps you don't have the time to dedicate to this? Moving on, I submitted chapter one of another new story last week. There are two ways to submit a story to this site, send it by email or post it on the forum submissions thread. I chose the latter, forum submissions thread, because there you can get feedback from members and presumably it might get picked up as a story to post, if it passes the quality measure. After posting to the forum submissions thread you receive a message saying something to the effect: Your submission content will be moderated before appearing. Fine, but how long does this take? When I submit a story to, for example, Gay Authors, it takes around 24 hours to approve and appear. Here, one week later, and I'm still waiting. You can see the problem? If it takes over a week to have a submission for a piece of writing appear on the forum, then something is going wrong. You are (as a gay story site) not alone with this problem. I've submitted stories to sites who have never replied, or you could say I'm still waiting to hear back. Perhaps you neither have the time nor the people to address this issue, in which case it is not difficult to understand why there is a lack of quality writing, or any writing at all.
  24. Castle Roland presents A short story by Parker Sheaffer Undying Love
  25. Castle Roland presents A short story by Parker Sheaffer Undying Love Short Story Parker Sheaffer Castaway Hotel Book 2 Chapter 27 28 Bill W Three Finger Cove Book 5: Matthew Chapter 31 Chowhound The Trial 5: Cynical Faith Chapter 12 Cynus Lawn Boy Chapter 11 David Lee Durch Ferne Welten Und Zeiten Chapter 13 David McLeod The Stay Behind Kid Chapter 8 Gary Conder Learning To Fly Chapter 7 Jesse James The Scars Above My Heart Chapter 3 Sean E
  26. Hello members, For several years I wrote stories under another name on Archive of Our Own and also joined various Fanfiction writing events. Then I moved on to a gay male site, mostly teen stories. Tried a couple of writing challenges there. From there I learned about other Websites with gay content. So I am testing the water here. Looks like a fun Website Mark Driver
  27. The Farewell Symphony by Edmund White is chalk full of opulent sensuality and many erotic references. Interestingly, the narrator of the story, based loosely on White's life, has a novel rejected by publishers. Hate to think of Edmund White giving up writing a novel because someone rejected the human sexuality of his work. A rejection must feel disappointing after working hard on something. But even if your writing didn't find a home on a couple of Websites, why not keep on doing what you are doing? If you tailor your effort to create stories that seem like the rest of the content on those Websites, is that really what you want? I read a little bit today and will read more. To me your writing seems unique and the characters vivid.
  1. Load more activity
×
×
  • Create New...