Letters Blog Hop

24 05 2013

Hello Romance Fiction Writers and anyone else who finds this post. This is my first blog hop using this blog and I’m excited because I got to write something I had thought about back in high school but haven’t yet gotten to writing the story. Make sure to check out the other Letter entries here: http://romanticfridaywriters.blogspot.com.au/2013/05/inlinkz-sign-up-for-may-challenge.html


Minor disclaimer: While I have a fair amount of books for the research of the era this is set in, they are all in a different state than where I live currently. So, the language may not quite fit the right style needed for the pre-civil war era. So, please forgive any modern terminologies in this piece. I promise if I write the book that will be fixed. It’s also more of a part of a scene and not a whole store in itself.


About the story: Henry and James grew up near each other, families owned nearby plantations, and they were best friends. But James family moved up north when they are still kids and they vowed to each other to maintain friendships and write. No letters ever came to Henry. Then one day his friend returns to the south. At some point during their time building their friendship and more, Henry takes a hint from his mother and makes a discovery.


The Letters


Henry made his way through the halls of the plantation home, wiping sweat off his brow as he moved down the empty hallway. He had enjoyed the time outside, even the hard labor of helping with the field but he couldn’t do it for long and needed a break. Plus, he needed to take the opportunity at hand to search Father’s study while his parents were away visiting the Millers. It would be days but since his mother’s strange request, he couldn’t push down the urge any longer. He needed to know what she meant.


In the room, he wondered for a moment, his hand trailing along the wooden furniture. As strange as it sounded, he’d never been in the room before and by the grime that collected on his hand, the servants weren’t allowed to clean in their either. It belonged to his father and no one else could go in without permission, but his mother had requested he do a chore that required a paper kept in the desk.


The cool air of the dim room helped relieve the stress and heat he’d experienced though deep down he knew little of the struggle he had came from the labor. He did very little work but watching his friends James work out in the field among the slaves his father owned gave him strange feelings. Even the memory of James leaning over and working the cotton, sweat sliding down the back of his neck, gave Henry a sensation jolting through his body. He pushed it away, heading for the desk as instructed.


At first he could note nothing unusual. The desk looked as one could imagine what a man would need to handle the business of owning a plantation. He took a deep breath and went to the drawer he had to, pulling it out part way. He searched but didn’t find anything until he tried to push it back and noticed that it should have gone further back than it did, Pulling the heavy wood drawer out he reached behind and discovered a small pack with twine wrapped around it. Intrigued, he had to pull the pack of paper out to look at its contents. It didn’t look abnormal at first, but then he saw in carefully inked letters his name. Every separate letter cover had his name scrawled on the surface, yet he’d never seen them before in his life. Pulling the first one off the stack, still sitting on the ground, he opened the letter.



Henry, my friend, 

I hope this letter finds you well. I have no way to know if my last two ever made it to their destination but I haven’t given up hope. I take the promise we made that day with all seriousness anyone could pull out in the darkest of times. I am doing well though it is far different in the northern lands than Pa said. We are already down to a mere handful of workers and even those may leave soon. I do miss the adventures we took as kids. Please if this letter finds you, may you return a few words. Until then, I will await and send another letter when I get the chance.




Henry searched through the letters, never finding the first letters that the one he had read mentioned. The rest all had similar tones. They all discussed the general news of the time along with concern over his well being due to the lack of a response and yet the ever enduring hope. Then he got to the last letter.




I don’t know if I should send this. I had vowed to Mother that I had given up but after this last week, I had to try on more time. They tried to find me a wife. I even met the girl and while she had the qualities a man should desire according to Pa but I couldn’t continue past that point. I felt nothing, not what they said I should feel. Instead, as I lay in bed each night, I can’t help but think about you. I wonder what you look like. Do you look like your Pa? Do you have strong hands from working the grounds? It gives me strange sensations and I have decided to keep my promise. Soon I will return to my home land. While I am happy up North and even understand the reasons for the unsettled disputes over the slaves, I can’t help but know I left something behind, something I won’t get back until I have returned. I don’t know when it will be or if you will even recognize the dark haired boy that chased you up a tree once. Until then, my best wishes for your health and happiness,




Clutching the letters, Henry remained stunned. He didn’t know how to respond to the letters he’d wished would come and the realization that they had been hidden from him both hit at once. The fact that James felt the same things he had started to feel watching him touched the surface of his mind but he couldn’t latch on to any thought for long. He clutched the letters to his chest, wishing he could take them with him when he left the room, but he couldn’t. He had to put them away back in the hidden spot and hope one day to return to retrieve them.



16 05 2013

As one can imagine, the first post on a blog is a hard topic and yet the easiest to pick at the same time because one can either jump off into their blogs topic or do an introduction. Like so many others, I am going with the introduction.


My name is AD Wilson. I am a writer of GLBT fiction, namely romance and erotica. While I am not published yet, I have plans for the future that include short fiction along with novellas and novels. M/M is the main set of characters in my stories thought I like to test my abilities and shake things up on occasion throwing in F/F, Trans, and even a rare M/F into the mix.


My writing style is character based. That is my focus, the characters. I don’t do a lot in the way of description, yet one of my romance/erotica novels is 99,000 words. I tend to write long pieces and do write other genres under a pen name so the novel is my favorite, but I am trying flash fiction and short stories, which are a challenge to me. No matter the length though, the characters are what stand out. I love it when someone can say they loved the characters and how real they came across. I’ve even had someone say he had a crush on one of the characters, which is one of the best praises ever.

The target audience for most my work, the M/M, is gay and bisexual men with women as a secondary audience. I know women are the top audience for romance in general and even for M/M erotica but at the same time, which is why I recognize them as an important audience, but I also write for those that can relate to the characters and fall in love with them.


I can also be found on Goodreads under the name Ad Wilson. Open to friends and learning about more GLBT books to read.  Did I miss anything? hmmm


Oh right, I like long walks in the mountains, reading a good book and the well used cliche. 😉  Welcome to my blog and thank you for following for anyone brave enough to do so. I look forward to years of blogging and writing.

Userpage icon for either supporting equal righ...

Userpage icon for either supporting equal rights for non-heteroseuxals, or is GLBT. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)