People ask all the time how writers get their ideas for stories. Usually I have an answer for them. But how in the world did I ever decide to write a story about a gay vampire who lives alone in a greenhouse? I mean really. Writing that cover letter made me feel pretty darn silly!
But thankfully not all flowers are silly. I did research on carnivorous plants and found one that intrigued me – the Cobra Lily – aka: Darlingtonia Californica.
It works on the same premise as the pitcher plant. Bugs enter but then slip down and can’t get back up the slippery slope. The light freckled spaces on the flower make the bugs think they can escape, but only serve to get them further and further lost. What more perfect flower could there be for a vampire to raise?
The other flower that’s always intrigued me is the Corpse Flower. It emits a stinky odor like rotting meat to attract insects. Let’s just say I assume their sense of smell is a little different than mine! But lordy, look at that stem!
If that doesn’t make you think of a penis, I’m not sure you’re still breathing. It made me think of hot cock for sure. Maybe that’s how I ended up with a flower-tending vampire.
Anyway, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it like a fly in a Venus Fly Trap. 🙂
Look for Darkest Flowers soon from MLR Press. In the meantime, here’s a short excerpt:
“Welcome, my friend. Are you all right?”
The soft low voice had Henri fighting down a wave of lust. His cock hardened, begging for release from his pants. The stranger’s pale form seemed to vibrate, almost tremble, and Henri fought the urge to grab him and hold him still. Or had air-borne plant pheromones reached toxic levels in his brain and this was only a hallucination? Suddenly the air became heavier, pregnant with ripe reproductive ability. He forced himself to breathe. “I’m sorry for—” he waved a hand toward his equipment and swallowed, “invading your space.”
“Tsk. It is no intrusion. I’m glad you’re enjoying my private collection.” He smiled and trailed his graceful fingers over the leaf head of a Cobra Lily in a nearby waist-high container, then slowly stroked all the way down the stem. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Was it his imagination, or did the plant quiver under his gentle caress? More interesting, a matching tremor vibrated through him ending in his balls. The sensation hit Henri so strongly he tilted back his head and quietly moaned. Suddenly, the greenhouse seemed more than a mere nursery, but rather a hotbed of hidden lust and desire. He longed to be caressed as tenderly as a flower, wanted those light pink lips to kiss every inch of his body. Oh Lord, it’s probably the plant pheromones. He shifted from foot to foot to try and quell his desire. “It’s beautiful.” Just like you. “Um, are you Ambrose?”
“Yes. And you are?” Ambrose strolled slowly around the table, his lissome torso glowing faintly in the moonlight.
Henri’s gaze dropped lower and he mewled in surprise. Ambrose was completely naked. His long lustrous cock had to be a full foot long. It jutted proudly from between his hips and twitched under Henri’s continued observation. A bead of pearlescent liquid shone on the tip, glistening like a pearl, and he had the sudden desire to fall to his knees and lick off the dew. He’d never seen anything so stunning.