Charity Sunday, Easter Sunday – For a Just and Peaceful World #CharitySunday #AFSC #WorldPeace

Today is Easter Sunday. I was brought up Jewish, not Christian, but I can’t help but resonate with the spirit of this holiday: a rebirth of hope, celebrating emergence from the darkness of the tomb into the light of a new day.

Our world sorely needs that light. Gaza, Ukraine, Haiti, Sudan, Mali, Myanmar... around the globe, conflicts shatter lives and tear societies apart. We watch in horror as deaths mount and atrocities multiply, feeling helpless. It’s difficult to avoid bitterness and resignation, concluding that human beings are fundamentally aggressive and that war is inevitable.

Today, I reject that dark view of humanity. Most people around the world want peace. They want to raise their families and participate in their communities, safe and secure, respected and free from fear. War is the work of a minority, imposed on the majority. Day by day, country by country, conflict by conflict, each of us has opportunities to act in ways that create peace.

The American Friends Service Committee has been working for peace for more than 100 years. Founded by Quakers but fundamentally non-denominational, AFSC takes practical action to advance human rights, justice and non-violence around the world: education, advocacy, peaceful protest, bearing witness. These actions have made, and continue to make a difference.

So today, Easter Sunday, I will be donating two dollars to AFSC for every comment I receive on this post.

As for my excerpt – my work tends to avoid dark themes, including violence and war. So instead, I’ll give you a chapter from one of my most light-hearted stories, a twisted riff on Shakespeare’s play "A Midsummer Night’s Dream" entitled A Midsummer Night’s Gender Bending. Enjoy!

Blurb

The year is 1595 in the reign of Good Queen Bess. Stage-struck, young Ben Hastings leaves his father's farm for London, to join Will Shakepeare's band of players. Hugh Templeton, the handsome leading man, takes the innocent lad under his wing, but Ben soon discovers that Hugh wants more than just friendship. Meanwhile a savvy tavern maid named Jenny engineers a comedy of errors to save Ben from Hugh's lewd embrace and win him for her own.

Excerpt

Ben woke near dawn in the upstairs room. The quiet was astonishing. He heard no cart wheels clattering across the cobbles, no calling hawkers. He might have been back on the farm. The only sound was a train of soft, regular snores coming from the naked man stretched out beside him.

Hugh.

Ben winced as memories of the night came rushing back. The actor sprawled grandly on the cushions, his powerful limbs relaxed in sleep. Hugh’s cock cradled soft against his thigh. Ben had an almost overpowering urge to stroke it, but he didn’t dare. Didn’t really want to. Didn’t know what he wanted, after all.

He admired Hugh. He respected Hugh. He was grateful for all the help the older man had provided, all the tips on interpreting the script and reading the audience, all the insider tricks for getting the best of Master Will. But this – this physical connection between them – Ben didn’t know what to think. This couldn’t be normal, couldn’t be right. Yet when Hugh touched him, he had to admit, the pleasure was beyond anything he’d ever imagined, let alone experienced.

Ben’s head was surprising clear, considering all the ale he had consumed. He remembered all the details. His first spend, scattering his seed obscenely in Hugh’s face. His second, as Hugh circled his anus with an agile tongue and penetrated it with long, probing fingers. Hugh had wanted more, had wanted to bugger him. Unbelievably, Ben had wanted that too. But spittle was not enough to ease in Hugh’s huge organ, and they had to stop, to wait, Hugh said, until they could secure some goose fat, and then he’d truly take Ben to the gates of heaven.

Heaven. Dear God, Ben prayed, forgive me if I have offended Thee. I am a lost lamb, wandering in the wilderness. Show me the way that I may choose what is right and good in Thy sight. A short prayer, but somehow it made Ben feel more confident. He rose and dressed then slipped downstairs to the tavern’s main room, leaving Hugh asleep.

At first, the room appeared to be empty. Then Ben spied movement by the hearth. The serving wench was stirring up the fire under a kettle of something that smelled like soup. The aroma made his stomach twist, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since last sunset.

He watched the girl for a few minutes before making his presence known. She moved with a quiet efficiency that appealed to him, building the coals into a glowing pile, coaxing the flame with the bellows, laying two loaves by the hearth to warm. She was built as slightly as a child, with modest breasts and slender hips, but Ben thought she must be close to his age. Her features were regular; her expression suggested stubbornness. Her hair was her crowning glory, a profusion of blonde curls that tumbled halfway down her back. Even as he noticed, though, she pulled a cap out of her apron pocket and stuffed her hair into it with an impatience that made him smile.

“Good morrow, Miss,” he said finally. She looked up, annoyed, guilty to have been caught unawares though her activities seemed completely innocent. When she recognised him, however, a warm smile replaced her irritation.

“Ah, Master Player. Good morrow. Did you sleep well?” Ben heard the hint of laughter in her voice. Was it only because of his drunken exit the previous evening, or did she know more?

“Well enough, thank you. I ask your pardon for my excessive intoxication last night. I did not behave like a gentleman.” Ben was surprised to hear himself speak so fair. It must be the influence of Master Will’s verse.

“This is a drinking house. We’re quite accustomed to intoxication in all its forms.”

“Even so…”

She waved him into silence, placing a steaming bowl and a hunk of bread on the trestle in front of him. Then she sat opposite, staring at him until he lowered his gaze in embarrassment.

“Tell me,” she said finally. “Tell me what it’s like to be on the stage.”

“Well, I have only been a player for a few weeks.” He dipped his spoon into the bowl to cover his confusion. “I’ve only played women’s parts, so far. Because I’m young and mostly unbearded. Someday, though, I’ll play a general. Or a king.”

“Or even, perhaps, a god. You are handsome enough.”

Something in her voice made him look up from his breakfast. The intensity of her gaze was unnerving. It was hot, like the sun beating down on a field in high summer. Under that gaze, his cock began to swell and harden. That reminded him of Hugh, which only made him harder still. He blushed, hopelessly, not knowing how to handle this brazen, unladylike person.

She reached across the table to put her hand on his. “I want you, Ben. As my first lover.”

He snatched his hand away as if burned. “What?”

She sat back and brushed a wayward curl from her eyes. Her bodice was half open; he could see the way her breasts rose and fell with her breath. “I want you. I think I love you. I know that I desire you. Will you have me? I’m a far better choice for you than that old lecher Templeton.”

Ben’s stomach lurched. Only with a supreme effort did he avoid vomiting all that he had eaten. “I don’t know what you are saying,” he choked out, standing and backing away from her. “What nonsense…?”

“Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean that I’m naïve. I saw you. The two of you. Last night.”

“No!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll not tell anyone. But you should forget him, Ben, forget him and choose me. Help me to escape from my dog of a father, and I’ll help make you the greatest actor of our time.”

“No – I – um, I have to be going, Miss. I have a performance this afternoon.” He tried to make it to the door, but somehow, she managed to block his way.

She grabbed his two hands in hers and locked her eyes on his. “Please. Think about it. My name is Jenny.”

“I’ve got to go…” Ben was close to total panic.

Jenny stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed his lips. “Go, then. But you’ll see me again, before long.”

She stepped out of his path. He raced out into the street as if pursued by the devil.

Don’t forget to leave a comment. Every one brightens the light. And please do the same for the other authors participating in today's blog hop. Each one has a cause worth supporting.

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