Heat Wave: Manheim

By Feral Sephrian

The start of the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire means Wes can finally get back to his seasonal job and distract himself from his recent messy break-up. There’s plenty for him to think about at the Faire, such as his role as a wandering flower merchant, the overwhelming August heat, and Carlo, who plays a handsome knight.

Carlo is the exact opposite of Wes’s ex, Phillip, who won’t let their relationship die easily. The young knight is sweet and caring and chivalrous, but Wes has sworn to himself he’s not ready to jump back into dating yet.

When Carlo collapses off his horse during a joust, Wes has to confront his own feelings for his new friend, as well as Phillip’s constant attempts to win him back.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Aug 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781611528206

Feral Sephrian

Feral Sephrian is a self-described genderqueer liberal feminist independent open-minded autistic vegan Pagan furry who enjoys telling stories with diverse characters and cultures, especially ones that involve in-depth research. No minority is too small for representation. No majority is too large to be infallible.

Book preview

Heat Wave: Manheim

By Feral Sephrian

Published by JMS Books LLC at Smashwords

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2015 Feral Sephrian

ISBN 9781611528206

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Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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Heat Wave: Manheim

By Feral Sephrian

Chapter 1

The loud trumpeting of heralds’ horns announced the arrival of the knights. Their names were called as each man entered the arena, and the crowd cheered accordingly. The king and queen sat watching, both the image of regal stoicism. The knights charged around the jousting field, banners snapping in the wind, dust and sand flying from beneath their horses’ hooves. All hoped to earn the favors of the crowd.

Out beyond the field that acted as a parking lot, a siren blared, getting louder and softer as it passed. Wes barely noticed at first, but it was too out of place in their humble grove. Fortunately, it didn’t last long enough to interrupt the start of the joust. The opening speeches were word for word as they had been the previous day, and would remain largely unchanged until the end of the season. Wes imagined he might be able to recite it himself by October. He longed for the cool relief of autumn. Two days into the latest Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire and temperatures were peaking. The weather forecasts said the rest of August would be equally brutal.

Nevertheless, there was work to be done. Wes meandered through the crowd of people who had come to watch the joust. Flowers for sale! he called. Wondrous flowers that neither wilt nor fade! Two dollars apiece! Three for five dollars! He gripped his basket of wooden and metal flowers with sweaty hands. His water flask bounced against his hip, but he wasn’t dying of thirst yet. He wanted to make a full circuit of the audience before he stopped, then he could watch the joust, too.

Several Renaissance Faire employees were spurring the crowd’s cheers. One side called out, Fight for right! and the other shouted, Cheat to win! Wes found the whole Good versus Evil motif clichéd, but it was entertaining and considerably less confusing than the historical Renaissance alliances. Furthermore, they had a new crew of knights this year. One of the knights was a returning actor with the Bacchanalian Acting Company, although he had only been the reserve knight in case any of the others couldn’t perform in previous years.

On the good side, they had Sir Wallace, Earl of Westmorland, and Sir Charles, Lord of Woodcroft. Opposite them were Sir Fulke, Lord of Dunsany, and Sir Rowland, Baron of Ravenstone. Their real names were Robert, Carlo, Hal, and Jeff, respectively, but Wes had only met them all briefly the day before. They seemed like great guys, and Wes looked forward to when the Faire closed so he could hang out with them.

Flowers for sale! Wes announced again, quieter this time so people could hear what was going on. He stopped by a group of children standing with their parents. One little girl in a polyester gown and plastic tiara clung to her father’s leg, but smiled up at Wes from behind her hand. Would the pretty princess like a pretty flower? Wes asked. Only two dollars apiece, and these are magic flowers that will stay pretty forever.

The little girl tugged her father’s hand. Please, Daddy? Please please please! I want a pink one! Her father sighed, but pulled out his wallet. Suddenly several other children piped up, all asking for flowers. After some compromising, Wes ended up selling six flowers for ten dollars, four wooden and two metal. He bowed to the parents and the children, bade them a good day, and wandered to a less occupied shady area to watch the joust and wait for more customers.

Nearly all the trees were surrounded by people trying to get out of the direct sunlight. Wes had seen scarcely a cloud all morning, and now in the early afternoon the temperature was nearing ninety degrees. The upside to this was all the Faire-goers who showed up topless. Plenty of the women who attended in period dress had opted for outfits with minimum fabric, some in shirts that were little more than bikini tops with strings hanging down to cover their midriffs. However, Wes was preoccupied checking out all the buff, young, sweaty men in nothing but kilts and knee-high boots. He was required to wear a shirt, but he chose a loose, lightweight fabric, and he wore his own kilt in true Scotsman style.

Wes could only find a shady place to stand near the field’s entrance, where the circular path around the audience funneled back towards the Faire grounds. A few people were trickling in, fashionably late for the event,