Tuesday, February 23, 2016

A Love Letter from Cambrian Branch

For the month of February, fabulous author Em Shotwell has been hosting a love letter challenge on her blog (which is great, btw - you should check it out!), and I was featured last Monday. The challenge was to write a love letter from the POV of one of our characters, and I chose Cambrian from The Heartless City because he has a special place in my heart. (The recipient of the letter isn't named, as that would be a spoiler). The challenge was fun and I loved the result, so here is a copy of Cambrian's letter. (And, like I said, you can also read it - and many other awesome author letters - on Em's blog)

To the luckiest soul in London,

I’d rather not write this letter. As you well know, I’m much more persuasive and charming face-to-face, as my charisma’s been hailed as not only divine, but often life-changing. But since it is Saint Cambrian’s Day - the holiest of days - I have an inkling you will be presenting me with a gift, and because of that, I feel I must fashion a tangible objection. The offering is not necessary, you see, for you have already given me the greatest gift of all (and in doing so, also forced me to use the greatest of all clichés).

No one knows better than you how I detest being sentimental. I prefer to leave such maudlin dramatics to people like Elliot, who haven’t been blessed with the breathtaking wit and looks bestowed upon me. If I were the sort of person who went in for all of that, I would tell you my life before you was dark and cold as the depths of the Thames, that I’d never known what it was to feel the brush of someone’s skin against my own and feel wholly safe. I would tell you the first time we kissed felt like the first time I could breathe, and that every time your eyes meet mine it feels like physical touch. I would tell you I hear the sounds of whatever heaven there may be in the soft and tender strains of your voice, and the roaring fire you kindle within my veins is no less pure. I would tell you you have taught me what it is to truly be brave. I would tell you that, for the rest of my life, I am utterly, gratefully, yours.

But fortunately, I am not the kind of man who would write such drivel. I will simply let it be known that no such gift is necessary. Unless, of course, you have already bought something rare, exciting, or tastefully excessive. Then, by all means.


Cambrian Branch, truly the luckiest soul in London

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