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jl_merrowNot only is it Will’s 400th deathday today, it’s also (probably) his 452nd birthday, so here’s a little excerpt from Played!, my novel of amateur dramatics centred on A Midsummer Night’s Dream, with Tristan being a tad cranky on being woken up in the morning by a knock on the door:
Tristan hurled back the blankets (Nanna Geary hadn’t agreed with new-fangled duvets), marched to the window and flung it open to shout down at the street below. “Whoreson, beetle-headed, flap-ear’d knave!”
Con’s face stared up at him, his brow creased in a frown. “What did you just call me?”
Tristan gulped. His wooing, it appeared, was not getting off to an auspicious start.
You can read a longer excerpt from Played! in my post on the Simply Shakespeare Blog Hop.
And don’t forget to check out all the other snippets on the Rainbow Snippets Facebook Group.
All the world’s a stage…but real-life lessons are hidden in the heart
Though Tristan must join his family’s New York firm at summer’s end—no more farting around on stage, as his father so bluntly puts it—he can’t resist when Shamwell’s local amateur dramatics society begs him to take a role in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
The bonus: giving private acting lessons to a local handyman who’s been curiously resistant to Tristan’s advances. Not only is Con delicious, there’s fifty pounds riding on Tristan getting him in his bed.
A late-diagnosed dyslexic, Con’s never dared to act, convinced he’d never be able to learn his lines. But with Tristan’s help, he takes the chance. Trouble is, the last time Con fell for a guy, he ended up getting his heart broken. And with Tristan due to leave the country soon, Con is determined not to start anything that’s bound to finish badly.
Just as Tristan thinks he’s finally won Con’s heart—and given his own in return—disaster strikes. And the curtain may have fallen forever on their chance for happiness.
Warning: contains a surfeit of Bottoms and asses, together with enough mangled quotations to have the Bard of Avon gyrating in his grave.
