Breaking the 4th Wall (+18 NSFW)

Episode 1 - A Writer's Commitment - Sneak Peek

CHAPTER 1 - AUTHENTICITY IS KEY

If life takes a left turn into the unexplainable, would you allow yourself to enjoy the journey or insist on trying to make sense of it?

The morning sun warms my skin as I swing gently, sitting sideways in my hammock on the sand by the dock. Like the water lapping at the nearby shore, the words pour in effortless waves of inspiration. With a grin, I click the enter button and send the first chapter to my beta-readers. It's my newest story idea, Hidden, part of an exciting universe of stories revolving around the idea that gods and beings from mythology are real and living hidden among us.

A shadow on my face disrupts my concentration as the loss of warmth sends a shiver down my back in the cool fall air. My gaze flicks up from my computer screen, and I squeak, jerking my body back and setting the hammock swaying.

The dark silhouette of a male is only a couple of metres from me, the sun creating a halo around him.

My heart races, and it takes me a minute to close my gaping mouth. Thoughts spinning, I narrow my gaze to focus on the here and now, yet half my mind is still partly immersed in my fictional universe and its wealth of individuals.

I lick my lips with a mouth gone dry and attempt a weak chuckle. "Are you real, or are you one of my characters?" I ask the tall figure before me.

I'm only partly kidding. He's standing in front of me, so, of course, he's real, right? Right? Because if he isn't actually there, how is he casting a shadow on me? Although, maybe I've fallen asleep, and this is a dream? In dreams, it's perfectly fine to speak with my fictional characters.

After all, one hazard of being a writer is getting lost in one's imagination and I've definitely had fun creating my latest male protagonist from a blend of gods from numerous new-world and old-world pantheons. Who wouldn't want to write about a shapeshifting trickster powered by sex, stories, and chaos?

But no, I still smell the freshly cut grass, feel the light breeze stirring my hair, and the warmth of the sun contrasting with the cooler air. I bite my lip. This has to be real. It's too vivid to be a dream.

And now he must think I'm nuts. I roll my eyes at myself, barely holding back my snort. It's probably the Amazon delivery guy needing a signature. Although, speaking of crazy things, how did he get through my backyard and all the way to the water without my noticing? I'm not that oblivious when writing, am I?

Looking at the evidence in front of me, maybe I am.

His head cocks to the side as he considers his answer.

Squinting, my eyes start to adjust to the difference between the bright sky behind him and his face and body in shadow, but I still can't quite make out any details of his features. Judging by his silhouette, he is tall and athletically built, but leanly muscled, not bulky. The sun reflects off parts of his clothes with a metallic glare, while other areas have a sheen suggesting leather.

With every new visual clue, my heartbeat quickens. Armour? Leather? A quarterback's build? That's not... no, it's not possible. Thoughts swirling, my gaze flicks from my computer screen's description of Asgard's Dark Prince to the male in front of me several times in succession. It can't be. Really?

"I believe—"

My breath breaks in a small gasp as he begins to speak in a sexy posh accent, the same lilt I've chosen for my Asgardians. No way!

"—that I would consider myself real in some planes of existence and one of your characters in other multiversal realities... since you decided to write a novel including the God of Stories," he says in his purring baritone.