Day three, and another pause on the endless road of words! Yesterday brought me to Lovebytes reviews for Stop Three on the Undone blog tour – and don’t forget, that giveaway bit means free books!
Guest Post and Giveaway: The Undone Blog Tour With Belinda Burke.
I still have the power! The darting of yesterday’s day two brought me to The Novel Approach reviews for Stop Two on the Undone blog tour – click, friend, and enter!
Guest Post and Giveaway: The Undone Blog Tour With Belinda Burke.
As I have the power, I gather for you in one place the many posts I have written, as I dart from place to place and day to day along my blog tour! Here, originally at “Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words”, is Stop One on the Undone blog tour!
Author Belinda Burke on Sweet Dreams, Mythology and “Undone” (tour and guest post).
Out of the woods, he comes as if he knew that we were there. Dark haired, dark eyed, the sound of his voice is a song that comes faint over the shallows. Only the music carries, not the words, but that is more than enough to begin tying down the enchantment.
He is gancanagh, love-talker, and the sweet of his words can imperil as much as the sweet of his skin. He walks the edge of the water, slow steps that signal his readiness to stop, to wait – for the slightest reason, or no reason. It is the beginning of his game. Already the women among us are turning to him, lifting their eyes, their hands, fingers curled as if they could touch the softness of his hair from where they stand.
The beasts and beings that do not belong to the human world are dangerous monsters, most of them, but this one is dangerous because he is not a monster. Because he is beautiful – because, as long as he stands smiling, it is easy to believe he could be tame.
The air turns sweet, beguiling dust moving in motes golden as honey. The taste of it flows like wine on the currents of the breeze. He stares at us, and then at one among us, and the woman who has caught his eye is still as a statue despite the deck rocking beneath her, despite the whipped up surface of the sea.
We turn away from the shore, before the sugar in the air overcomes her – before it addicts her, turns the core of her being to nothing more than a seeker after that dust. He watches, and the sound of his laughter follows us.
He watches, and she watches back, as we sail away toward the dusk.
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Gancanagh References
Gancanagh Wiki
Love Talk
Have a suggestion for a creature that belongs in the Bestiary? Leave it in the comments!
This bit of smutty goodness comes from Wolf of the West, as a result of…well, research, faoladh, and my own inability to resist the temptation of Marcas. Friday Fun may become a regular deal – let’s see how it goes, shall we? (And of course, as it’s smutty, that means NSFW!)
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Connor pressed his hips up against Marcas’ and grinned at the breath the other man sucked past his lips.
“What’s not right about now?”
Marcas laughed again, but this time Connor knew that he was laughing at him.
“You don’t want it enough yet. I want more than this from you, Connor.”
Connor couldn’t see Marcas’ smirk, but he felt it, the lips stretching, parting against his skin. Again, he felt a languorous stroking of tongue against his throat, nipping teeth, open-mouthed kisses that sucked heat to the surface of his skin to be soothed by that tongue. It was no longer in him to deny anything. He could only capitulate to sensation, his own nerves betraying him with what they wanted.
On your knees, Marcas said, and the image filled itself in his head, more than an image, a whole scenario… There would be the taste of salt and skin. Give as good as I get.
He found himself pushing up against the thigh Marcas had pressed between his legs. Connor arched his back off the ground and wished he could get out of his clothes, feel all the burnished heat of Marcas’ skin against his skin, but he still couldn’t move. He couldn’t even get enough movement out of his hips to ease the aching of his cock, so full, so wanting…
What did he mean, didn’t want it enough yet? What more was there to wanting than this painful pressure, tingling in his fingertips, his toes, a shiver that turned to a full body shudder when Marcas licked his lips. He leaned back over Connor’s mouth and kissed him, sucked Connor’s tongue into his mouth and stroked it lightly with the tip of his own tongue.
He mouthed his way along Connor’s jaw, back to his throat, kissed his shoulder—then bit it, hard. Connor jerked upward with an involuntary cry. He had been so close—but Marcas was already standing, backing away, grinning.
In the process of researching types of sidhe to play with in the Eight Kingdoms, I’ve encountered loads of interesting and obnoxious beings. Currently the ones I’m having the most fun with are the gancanagh – love talkers, it means, male fae who produce an irresistible attraction and addiction in mortals.
All it takes is one touch, and sometimes just to be in their presence for too long. Then a hapless human is infatuated, and doomed to be left heartbroken by their immortal lover when they grow bored and decide to move on to another mortal.
It’s difficult to find actual folklore about the gancanagh, as in legends with the specific names of people and places. When you look up faoladh, for instance, you’ll find dozens of references to the wolves of Ossory, the curse of Saint Patrick, and so on and so on (there will be so on, just wait ‘til I get ranting on in the next post). Gancanagh, though….my grandmother used to warn me that if a boy was too good to be true, he probably was, and might be gancanagh – but she never had any stories to tell about them, the way she did about the Wild Hunt or the ways to escape the sidhe if you were trapped. (Eat no food, drink no drink, remember the charm of nine and pray!)
Having grown older and done the research, of course, I now wonder if maybe the stories just aren’t recorded or as well known because they’d have to be awfully raunchy. Let’s be honest here – what we’re talking about is a fae with all the cunning and beauty of the sidhe, but the intentions of an incubus (at least where it counts.) Not exactly bedtime-story-gee-thanks-grandma material!
The interesting part for me was the differences that make the gancanagh unique, rather than the things that are obviously similar, to other such seductive immortal beings. The gancanagh not only seek out mortals to seduce, but the ones they find have no choice but to give in. Touching one of them just once – a kiss, a caress, to hold their hand – is enough to invoke the ultimate addiction. Their skin secretes a substance described variously as a golden dust, or powder (pixie dust, anyone?), which completely ensnares any mortal unfortunate to come into contact with it.
Unfortunate, because while the gancanagh are supposedly fantastic lovers, the mythology suggests that any other kind of addiction would be nothing compared to this. Deprived of the gancanagh after the fae grows bored, the mortal who has been touched by a gancanagh will suffer the most terrible withdrawal.
They may go mad, accuse friends, family, or strangers of stealing their sidhe lover, attack those they’ve accused or even murder them. Those afflicted might also suffer from a less violent lovesickness, refuse to eat or drink, or wander the woods searching for their lost lover – but in the end, most simply die from the withdrawal itself.
If you want to know more about gancanagh, the best way is probably to see one in action. Check out Undone, and the exclusive excerpts at each stop of my Blog Tour!
I was listening to the end of this on the radio today, and suddenly got angry at the song for being over – or well, at the radio for being on the wrong station and not letting me catch the whole thing. Of course the magic of youtube meant that didn’t matter as soon as I got home…but youtube being what it is, I got thinking as soon as I was halfway through the song.
The damned thing was perfect for a scene in a WIP that I haven’t even started yet – it’s just a tiny flicker of an idea, attached to the massive doom project that is Holy. But at the same time, I was surprised – I don’t have lots of classic rock songs in my inspiration playlists, and I figured I must be missing out, because one perfectly inspiring song doesn’t come out of nowhere, or exist in a vacuum, or…well, whatever other aphorism, really.
So I went on a quest looking for other songs from ye olde days (not that olde, I suppose, but still) that might help with my current WIPs, because let’s face it – book four in editing, deathless (hopefully) soon to be in editing, draft two of Holy, draft one of book five, draft one of Undone’s sequel, draft two of Earthbound…I need all the help I can get!
Considering as I’m not the only person reading my books (thank monkeys for that) and that I’m definitely not the only person writing books (thank monkeys for that), I decided to share the results of my quest with you glorious beings!
I remember THIS song, I Think We’re Alone Now, playing on the oldies station of my nightlight-radio when I was a much younger version of myself. It leads to cuddling lovers and laughing chases in the rain. This isn’t surprising, of course, considering the song, but I love the little heartbeat-sound pauses in the melody line.
There’s also Heart’s Magic Man, which is currently playing repeat, now that I’ve found it again. Matti (the one who stars in Holy, of whom Artemio is Accidental Master) likes it, so I will probably be listening to it until I start editing book four tomorrow. Actually, Matti isn’t the only one, Macsen loves this song too – my quest found it in the playlist I used to write book two of Eight Kingdoms. That probably has something to do with his obsession for blue-eyed men, but you know. I take what I can get!
Finally, at least for now, I have a minor fetish for funky sounding fun songs that actually have horrible deranged lyrics. Like that Pumped Up Kicks song, which sounds happy until you actually pay attention? Yeeeah. So this one, Talking Heads’ Psycho Killer, goes in that category, as the lyrics are supposed to be the inner thoughts of a serial killer.
Most of my villain like this song, but that is probably because half of them are psycho killers…even if they don’t want to admit it!
If you got an oldie but goodie that you love to write to, or that inspires you in general, I’d love to hear it, so leave a link in the comments!
To celebrate the upcoming blog tour accompanying its full release, enjoy this exclusive Bite of Undone!
Tighe wandered through Summer, and the wood wound a path to nowhere, because that was his desire. Nowhere was a lake he didn’t know, a quiet river and the warm sun on the green grass beckoning him forward. He lay there, drowsing by the water, and let the silence and the sun’s reflection soothe his new and not unexpected heartbreak.
It was his own fault. Maybe by now he should have learned to look away, close his eyes, not listen when someone said things he couldn’t bear. He should have learned to live with the lie, but it was the same every time. He couldn’t do it, and now here he was again.
He wasn’t focused on Nuala. She would fade fast enough from memory, just like the others who’d been in her place in the past. But the things he missed when he was alone—a warm companion, someone to hold and hold him, pleasure and teasing and conversation… His thoughts turned to those things one at a time, then all at once. Each one was its own small torment.
More than all other things, he hated to be alone, unless he was working. There were only so many hours he could spend in his workshop, and what then?
“What now?” He closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe because of the sun, maybe because of the silence that came to him on the breeze, Tighe fell asleep there by the water, and only woke to the sound of splashing and a sudden gasp. He jerked himself upright and blinked into wary wakefulness in an instant. There was a screen of brush between him and the water, and he peered between the leaves, still but for his stare.
He saw a stranger, shedding drops of water like shining scales, his hair dark with dampness and the silk of his trousers clinging to his skin as he came out of the deep water and into the shallows.
With the recent release of The Burning Season and the upcoming release of Undone (June 9th! Woo!) I’ve started appearing all over the place!
For now, you can check out Once Upon A Time, a short piece about inspiration, fairy tales, and what they’re doing in our world. (Though for some reason they posted Undone’s cover with The Burning Season’s blurb. Don’t be confused!)
A new Bite that is actually from Undone will be out later today, in anticipation of my upcoming Blog Tour!
Speaking of which, take note! On June 9th, visit with me at Scattered Thoughts and Rogue words. On the 10th, I’ll be with The Novel Approach. The 11th sees me with Love Bytes Reviews, and finally, on the 12th, I’ll be finishing up at Crystal’s Many Reviews! I’ve been hard at work on guest posts covering everything from where gancanagh come from to LGBT characters in modern fairy tales, and each stop on the tour comes with it’s own exclusive excerpt from Undone!
Accompanying this lovely little tour are a couple of interviews (fates preserve me), which will be wild in the world on Tuesday the 9th and Friday the 12th…and, finally, to wrap it all up, keep an eye out for an upcoming giveaway of signed copies of The Burning Season, Eight Kingdoms book three!
For reasons unknown to me, the last three days have seen me use this particular bit of the Genji Monogatari Sennenki OST as inspiration for EVERY SINGLE WIP.
That means book five of Eight Kingdoms got some words out of this (Macsen is being tortured. He likes it. Don’t ask, don’t ask. Yet.). Holy got some words out of this too, although I’m having issues keeping a poor, innocent waiter alive now because of that. Even Gorgoneion, a short story from the perspective of Medusa’s severed head, got words! I thought perhaps it was an omen, and decided that the best use of omens is to share them wildly, widely, and without restraint.
So! Here, have my inspiration – and if you’re feeling up to it, share some of yours!
Belinda Burke, Author 