Janis Susan May

Coming Soon

Currently Janis Susan is working on a gothic tale of a woman haunted by her father’s genius and the fantasy world he created, a time-travel romance set in the political and social turbulence of early nineteenth century England and, wearing her archaeological hat, a history of archaeological illustration before 1798. She has also just finished editing a museum catalog for an exhibit of archaeological illustration for the Centro Mallqui in Lima, Peru. Here are a couple of teasers on the fiction –

DARK SUN – excerpt

In spite of the comforts of the house I felt uncomfortable, uneasy, as if unseen currents moved around me. A draft? Something so prosaic would hardly intrude into this gracious, mannerly room. Again, it was as perfect as a movie set. Antique furniture, comfortable chairs, walls covered in books that looked as if they had actually been read.
It was hard to reconcile this earthly perfection with the shadowy, haunted world of Ghrones, Valnicks, Shining Ones, Melphs and the other denizens of the Land of the Two Suns, even though I would guess they – and what else? - were what Edison and my father had discussed during those long nights’ conversations.
Someone fanciful might have thought that such discomfort came from dimly remembered echoes of those strange, unearthly beings, their memories never allowed to rest by virtue of their very popularity, but I was not fanciful. Mother and David had never put up with any form of imagination or whimsy. In the house where I grew up even the most innocuous Disney offerings were suspect and barely tolerated.
It had to be a draft.
“Some say geniuses should never marry.”
“A wise idea. A true genius should belong to everyone...” His bushy white eyebrows rose as the door to my left opened without a heralding knock and a man stepped in.
Superstitiously, my first thought was that he was an Investigator from the corps of the Shining Ones.
If ever a mere human could have joined my father’s society of supernatural elite it was this man. Tall and trim and whitely blonde, he had unnaturally pale skin with no touch of human pink and his eyes were the color of fresh ice. He even wore all white - shirt, slacks and shoes. All he needed was a delicate pair of twisted golden horns and a set of tiny, hand-sized wings on his shoulders to be a living example of one of the Shining Ones.
Of course, he was an albino. I couldn’t ever remember having seen one in real life before.
“James! Dear boy, I had been wondering where you were. Aurora, this is my secretary and devoted friend, James Stoner. James, our Aurora is finally here!”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Mathis. It’s such a delight to have you at Merrywood,” he said in a soft tenor voice, giving me a firm handshake and a dazzling smile. To Edison he said, “I knew Miss Mathis had arrived. I thought you might be wanting this.”
Into Edwin’s hands he placed a glimmer of gold.
“How good of you, my boy! Yes, I want Aurora to have this as soon as possible.” With no seeming effort Edison rose out of the low chair and walked toward me holding out both hands as if carrying a holy relic. “I had this made for you.”
It was a medallion about the size of a silver dollar, hanging from a heavy chain. Both looked like high-karat gold. One side of the medallion was covered in an intricate rococo scroll pattern; the other held a deeply engraved design.
Of course I recognized it at once. My father had described it minutely in his first book.
The seal of the Land of the Two Suns was a tall, thin pyramid set firmly into an expanse of land that could be, according to how you looked at it, either lushly overgrown or bleakly scored and arid. Suspended in the sky were two round suns. The one to the right of the pyramid was a simple circle, signifying light; the one to the left was deeply cut and roughly gouged from the shining metal to leave an indelible impression of darkness.
Edwin clasped the necklace around my throat, where it lay cold and heavy. “I had this made for you as soon as you said you were coming. They’ll sell cheap versions at the convention, they always do, but I thought that Charles Mathis’ daughter deserved only the best. The real thing.”
“You shouldn’t have,” I murmured and I meant it. Somehow the simple design looked like an alien, inimical face.

TIME AND AGAIN (working title) – excerpt

Cynara tried to shrink within herself. If she told him the truth he'd never believe her! But she had to tell him something - he was closing in on her. Now his other hand caressed the back of her neck with just enough strength to assure her he could do it and more, whether or not she permitted. There was an inch or so of space between their bodies, but still Cynara could feel him as surely as if they had been pressed together.
"I've told you." Shakily. It sounded like a lie, even to her ears, but how could she tell him she was lost in time?
"And very prettily, too." His lips brushed her cheek and, butterfly soft, nibbled down the side of her neck. "But I want more."
Cynara's breathing became ragged as her body began to pulse treacherously. "Is this," she asked in a desperate attempt to regain her self-control, "how you treat visitors in your home? I thought an English gentleman would respect a lady..."
He chuckled, a thrilling rumble that came from deep in his chest and sounded very much like the growling thunder outside. "A lady? Doing it a bit too fine, aren't you? No lady would take your task... You're no more a lady than you are a friend of my sister's."
As Cynara gasped, his lips grew more demanding, pulling rather than caressing the tender skin of her neck, his teeth and tongue teasing with a hint of passion. The hand at the back of her neck twined in the short curls of her hair with a grip that gave her no discomfort as long as she remained motionless. His other hand, suddenly fierce, moved with a hungry insistence to knead the soft mound of her breast.
Cynara knew what to do; the lesson had been drilled into her at class - a sharp knee to the groin and he would have other things to think about besides her. He was standing in almost perfect position; one quick, decisive move and she would be free...
Instead Cynara sank into the inescapable and undeniable rush of desire that filled her like effervescent wine as his fingers moved down to tease the traitorously hard knob of her nipple. Her heart beat until she thought surely it would wake the house. She was hot and she was cold and up was down and she could barely form the coherent thought that she wanted him more than she had ever wanted any man.
"And you're no maid, either," he said, abruptly pulling back to look into her eyes. He knew the response of an untried virgin and this was most certainly not one. His lust pulsed with excited anticipation as he realized this was an experienced woman, one who knew as much about pleasure as he. Urgent now, his hand became more demanding on her breast, now tweaking at her stiffened nipple as if his fingers were his lips. "You're enjoying this."
Cynara certainly was. Her body felt as if it were nothing but a single, pulsing hunger for more of him. She had had sexual experiences, of course, but compared to this burning intensity neither one of them had been anything!
"And what do you think of this..." His voice deepened, roughening with passion as he too was caught in the fire of desire. Knowing that she was now completely under his control, he released her hair and rubbed his hand downward, exploring the planes and curves of her body, drawn by the slight swell where her thighs met. Outside the thunder screamed with an intensity that made the windows shiver. Cynara leaned toward him, moulding her body against the hardness of his muscles and his manhood, and both of them completely forgot the layers of fabric which wrapped them in titular respectability. "... my beautiful, wanton harlot?"
Wanton? Harlot?
The words hit like rocks and Cynara suddenly felt as if she had been drenched by the icy rain which now slashed at the windows. A burst of lightning made her think of flashbulbs and how she would look in a photograph of this moment. She enjoyed sex, of course, and she had been enjoying this man's touch more than any which preceded it, but did that make her a harlot?
Maybe in 1817 it did.
In any case, the moment was spoiled, the magic gone and with it the pleasure. Sex with someone who regarded her as nothing more than a prostitute would be obscene and little more than rape.
"Let me go," she said faintly, struggling against him.
"Too late now to play the untouched maid," he said, obviously excited by her sudden resistance. His touch intensified and Cynara could feel the sizable bulk of his aroused manhood, fiercely erect and straining against his clothes, hard against her leg. "You want this as much as I..."
It was true. Even as her mind withdrew in distaste Cynara's body traitorously continued to respond, wanting him to touch her more, wanting him to take her, wanting him...
"No." Though small, the word was a tremendous effort which took all of Cynara's pride to say. She pushed at him with feeble hands, knowing within herself that if he did not release her she would be lost. "Please..."
"That's right," he growled, fumbling as he fought to lift her shrouding garments. "Beg for it..."
Cynara Aldis had never begged for anything in her life. She would be damned before she begged for anything from a man who thought she was a common whore, no matter how he affected her body!
"No!" Her breath coming in harsh gulps as if she had been running, Cynara slapped him across the cheek.
It wasn't a hard slap, not having much leverage behind it, and he ignored it as he would a presumptuous mosquito.
"'Tis a dangerous game you've chosen, madam," he said thickly. The quality of his voice had changed, darkening and taking on a timbre of menace that sounded more like a challenge than desire. For the first time since he had touched her Cynara felt well and truly frightened.
Once more the room filled with light, but this was not a temporary lightning flash. Yellow and fluid, it flowed in and filled the dark corners.
"Perhaps," Bertrand asked icily, holding the flaring candelabra aloft to better illuminate the scene, "you would explain this?"