Jack Poignet

I‘m currently working on a second draft (low priority, it might take a while). My main goal with that draft is working on character development (so far only later chapters and other characters were touched). What you‘re reading here is pure first draft. I‘m publishing chapters as soon as I have written them, often unsure how the story will evolve exactly (until it reaches it‘s conclusion which I certainly knew in the case of this story). So far, I only had to clarify/add a few minor things in this story.

I‘m currently busy writing/finishing several other projects first. I know the historic event that‘ll be used as the backdrop of the story, I know the characters I wish to introduce, but so far i don‘t know the „magical“ storyline. I wish to foreshadow events that‘ll come in Books 3 and 4 of Lightbringer, but everything I came up with up to now is a bit lame. then again Lucien will be a child (maybe 8 years old), so the events don‘t need to be too horrific. Book 3 is written but needs to be adapted to Book 1 and 2, Book 4, also already written, will need some light adaptation. As I definitely want to publish Books 3 and 4, you can rest assured, that Book 2 will come, I’ll start probably in a few months. My biggest holdup was that I wanted to rewrite Book 1 first, Père Antoine (actual historical figure) at that time behaved much closer to Mathias. Only later did he become a well liked figure. But I can start Book 2 and just tell what would change in a rewrite before I actually get around to it. The historical events in these book are reasonable well researched (not only Wilipedia). Hope you can wait. Thanks for reading, liking and commenting!

I know this will surprise a few people, but I'll drop a massive spoiler now: Next chapter, they're actually going to clean up a bit first 🤯

If the last two days were tests, the third was pure provocation. By midmorning, the air had a thickness to it, a humid weight that pressed against the eardrums. It wasn't just the dust and pollen; it was the invisible, static-charged current running between the two men. It was the heavy, suffocating calm before a tornado touches down. Hank and Jesse worked side by side, as always, but today the silence was different. Less comfortable. More electric. Jesse couldn't keep his eyes off Han

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Hmmm … does that mean my stories normally meander aimlessly? 🤔 😅 I can assure you the blurb is more or less accurate until chapter 10.

I‘m rather happy about all your reactions, seems like I‘m getting my mayor points across

Dear all, please remember that this began as a short „erotica“ story. Chapter 3 will give you the title giving “Pigsty“ scene. In the context of the now longer story the content may seem rushed, but sometimes stuff can happen fast—or so I‘ve heard. After that, I started to go more into the details, and by the end of Chapter 10 you‘ll know the major story setup. I‘m still trying to slip in sex often, but it won‘t overwhelm the story. Thank you @chris191070, @drsawzall, @dboggs9700, @Philippe, @VBlew, and @J J for commenting so far. Usually, I‘m just as curious as you are on how a story develops and comment enthusiastically on your feedback, but in this case I already know it up to chapter 10 and, let‘s face it, I‘m terrible at keeping secrets. Expect me to comment more when the story has progressed further.

The next morning, the heat didn’t bother to build up slowly—it came out swinging. By six a.m., the sky was bleached white, vibrating with the manic drone of insects that knew the temperature was climbing fast. Hank woke to the baked-dry taste of his own tongue and a crust of salt where sweat had dried around his eyes during the night. His body felt heavy, stiff—the good kind of stiffness that came from use. He didn't go to the kitchen. He went straight to the window. He moved the

Looks like you all have spotted the problem with my attempts at „erotica“… I just have to make distinct characters and hint at some backstory… Initially I did not plan to release this story on GayAuthors, but now that I know it‘s really plot driven (I’m actually at chapter 10) I have decided otherwise. I‘ll update 2 chapters a week on here until this site has caught up with the other site.

August, noon. The sun was a goddamn anvil on the back of Hank’s neck. He could feel it broiling through the thin bandana, the sweat scalding new channels through the dust caked to his skin. He hadn’t stopped since before dawn. On a spread like his, work wasn’t a rhythm; it was a siege. One man against a hundred acres of bucking, blighted, uncooperative earth. Hank liked it that way. Every job was a battle, and every inch of progress a prize wrestled from the jaws of nature. He moved ac

Ex-Military recluse Hank runs his isolated farm with measured violence and tactical clarity. When Jesse, a 22-year-old, stumbles into Hank’s world, the "math" of the farm changes forever. Jesse is more than a stray; and his dark past is about to catch up with him. Hank doesn't offer pity; he offers an absolute, grounding ownership. But while trying to protect the boy, he realizes he can’t hold the line alone and calls in favors. The debt is about to be paid in lead and spent fury.

Thank you so much! It isn‘t your „normal“ shifter story, so I‘m glad you enjoyed it nevertheless. (PS. I‘m actually thinking about writing a „proper“ shifter story soon… )

Timmy will show up a few times again and have his role to replay, but the name is not a literary reference.

Obviously this is about „Unspoken“ desires and expanding your „Horizons“. Gosh, I hate it when they try pushing me into the hardcore erotica direction again… 😇

The echo of a zipper closing sliced through the profound, ringing silence of the cavern. Jake pushed the velvet curtain to the side, just a fraction. Through the gap, he saw Senator Wallace straighten the lapels of his tailored jacket and adjust his tie. The politician’s eyes held the detached, clinical curiosity of an investor as he regarded the sight before him. On the black stone altar, the mountain of Lucas's flesh remained splayed and shackled, his head still encased in the dark, weathered

Thanks! Rock bottom will be about chapter 13 or 14… there’s lots of escalation to come !

Two days later, the hunger was beginning to return. It was a faint, familiar whisper in the back of his mind, a cold premonition in his gut that made his skin prickle with low-grade anxiety. He was pacing the length of his small apartment, the walls feeling closer than usual, when his phone pinged. He looked down. At the curb, a black saloon sat idling, its paint so deep and flawless it seemed to drink the grey afternoon light. It was utterly alien against the backdrop

Lucas woke up not to the groggy haze of sleep, but to a surge of pure, divine energy. The weak morning light filtering through the blinds of his own apartment wasn’t an intrusion; it was a spotlight. He lay still, cataloging the sensations. The gnawing ache in his gut, the constant, ravenous companion of the last few weeks, was gone. In its place was a deep, thrumming power, a cellular hum that vibrated from the marrow of his bones to the surface of his skin. The world was in high definition.

Exactly!

Santa didn't give Claus more than a moment to recover his breath. The silence of the room was now thick, broken only by the wet, rhythmic huffs escaping the hole in the bridle and the steady click-pulse of the crimson nose. "The time for playing is over, Rudolph," Santa rumbled, as he finally pulled off his crimson robe, just standing there in his boots, his jockstrap and a fur-trimmed Santa cap. "Now, we work until the student is gone and only my Lead Bull remains." He stepped be

Santa stood tall, the leather girdle still vibrating slightly in his hand from the sharp crack against Claus's behind. Claus's knees had almost buckled, but he remained standing, his knees locked and trembling. His breath came in jagged, shallow hitches. The sting of the leather girdle was a hot, electric line of fire that kept his mind from drifting too far into the post-orgasmic fog. Santa didn't offer a word of comfort or a steadying hand. He simply watched for a moment, his eyes trackin

He barely remembered getting back to the locker room. The only sensations reaching him were the sting of cold air on his skin and the echo of slamming doors. His hands refused to unclench. He could feel the ache in his jaw from grinding his teeth, a slow, dull pulse in time with his heart. What was he doing or why? He paced the length of the lockers, unsure where to go. He couldn’t stay here. For a moment he thought about smashing his fist into the mirror, but the urge passed. He wanted to

The dark void behind the blindfold stunned him, but his other senses went on high alert. The air brought a wave of heat and a scent that hit Claus like a physical weight: leather, and the deep, masculine musk of the man in red. Some rustling. Something cool and smooth settled over Claus’s bare shoulders. It was heavy—far heavier than a shirt—sliding over his skin with cool, predatory smoothness. A cold shock of metal, pieces of it pressed against his sternum. Loose straps dangled down his

Guys, this was just the light foreplay… Now I’m not sure if you’re ready to read the rest ?! 😱