Saturday, February 14, 2015

Love Letters

Posted by: Cindy Spencer Pape

A collection of missives by the authors of Here Be Magic

From The Battle Lord Saga by Linda Mooney

To my beautiful Atrilan,

 You know I'm not a man for sentiment. Neither am I one for writing down my thoughts, much less construct something as profound as a note to profess my love for you. But heed them now. My words are simple, but they are from the depths of my soul.

This is the time of year when tradition dictates that those who share their lives with someone are expected to confess their devotion. You, Atty, my brave, beautiful wife, you are the sole reason I exist. We were created for each other, and every day I thank whatever force or deity led us to meet.

I am what I am, and who I am, because of you. Know that not a day goes by that the power of our love doesn't temper every thought I have and every decision I make. The sight of you keeps me sane. The sound of your voice gives me strength to withstand the challenges that face us every day.

Even though we already know this, let me be the first to say it. I would give up my life for you and for our children, if that sacrifice is demanded to keep you safe. I know you would do the same, but the possibility of a future without you would inevitably lead me down an eternally dark and dismal road.

My pride in you is immeasurable. My faith in you is all-consuming. I cherish every bad moment, every argument, as well as all the good days, because they were with you.

I love you, Atty. Know it is now and for always. Even after our deaths, it will continue, because its power can never diminish.

I love you, Atrilan. Forever.

Your husband,
Yulen D’Jacques

from Demon Hunter, by Jenny Schwartz

If you wake before I return, follow the rose petals.
(A leopard-shifter of few words, but great passion.)


Dear Bipedal Scribbling Ape,

On human calendars, it's Valentine's Day, and I thought it would be wonderful of me, since I'm wonderful and all, if I tell you all the things you can do that will help me love you into 2015 and beyond. 

I would love you more if you would let me have free access to the Forbidden Zone. I realize you think it has dangerous pink insulation in it, not to mention egress to the great outdoors, but I want to get all up in there, and you won't let me. Do you not understand how that inhibits my love? 

I would love you more if you would give me tuna every day. My resultant flatulence is that of a cat well-fed. I don't care what the vet human says. The vet human is a sadistic crazy person. 

I would love you more if you would hold still while you are sleeping in a prone position so that I might sprawl upon thine belly. The hogwash your doctor told you about "how side sleeping will ease your spine and you won't feel so crippled up" can be tossed aside in favor of pleasing me. And you can hold your pee until I'm ready to get up in the morning, too. You used to do it for the small humans, after all. They can't possibly be more important than I am.  

I would love you more if you would get out of the recliner and give it to me. I know you feel most creative there and putting your feet up means they don't swell, but I don't care much about your creativity or your feet. I just want your chair.

I would love you more if you would let me attack the neighbor's cat when that asshole comes sashaying over to my porch. For all I know, that cat is trying to mooch you away from me. You might be giving that cat the tuna you refuse to give me! That cat might even be in the Forbidden Zone. That cat has got to go.

I would love you more if you would get rid of this stupid collar with its stupid bell. No, wait, scratch that one. I can get rid of it myself, because it's a lot of fun to watch everyone turn the house upside down trying to find it. 

I would love you more if you would switch the couch back to the one we had before. This new leather thing--it's just hard and uninteresting and it doesn't turn into lovely, thready puffs when I sharpen my claws on it. It just makes these stupid little holes. How am I supposed to know if it's working when I've nothing to show for all my scratching but tiny pinpricks? My claws have to be sharp in the event you let me beat some next door kitty ass. 

And I would love you more if you never, ever, ever close the bathroom door, or any other door, again. You might be petting the neighbor's cat in there, and I must put a stop to it. I mean, sometimes I do hear some caterwauling. It makes me suspicious. You won't like me when I'm suspicious.

So, human, this is what you need to do to help me love you more for Valentine's Day. I hope you appreciate the advice!

Meankitty, she who owns Jody Wallace


Ravenswing by Shawna Reppert


A Letter Raven Never Sent from Australia

My dearest Cassandra,

I never thought it possible to miss someone so much that it became a physical pain.  It is, perhaps, one of the reasons I yielded when you refused to renounce me, though I know I could drive you away if I truly wanted to.  The truth is, I could not bear it, even though it is in your best interests.  I love you, and in that love I am far more selfish than ever I was in my days as a soulless dark mage.

I love you. Though I do not say it often, I trust that you know me well enough to know that it is simple truth. Even though I will never post this letter, with its ridiculous, maudlin sentiment.

I know that you have not given up on a life together, and your hope keeps me sane even when I cannot share it.

If I do not speak the words, it is only because I find them inadequate.

                                                            Love forever,

                                                            Your Raven.


From a yet-unwritten book by Nicole Luiken

Date: February 14, 2015
Subject: Today
Dear Ms. Kendal:
Please accept my personal apology for allowing today’s incident to take place. Security is being tightened up, and I assure you Mr. Fairchild will be escorted off company property on sight in future.
I wanted to tell you that the boys and I are proud to be your employees and that all of us think that what Bleys said about you is complete and utter shite.
Yours respectfully,
Cadmar Bane

Eyes stinging, Kendal read the message twice. It had been a horrible day today and Cadmar’s no-nonsense words had lifted her spirits. On impulse, she hit Print. This was probably the closest she’d come to receiving a Valentine’s card today.

But when she collected the sheet from the printer her eyes widened. For some reason Track Changes had become turned on and the message she was reading now was quite different from the edited one.

Dear Miss Kendal:
Please accept my personal apology for allowing today’s incident to take place. If I hadn’t been on coffee break—no, don’t give excuses. Security is being tightened up, and I assure you Mr. Fairchild will be thrown escorted off company property on sight should he dare show his face again in future. I almost hope he does so I could punch him again.
I wanted to tell you how fine you looked today in your blue coat with your pretty hair blowing in the wind like fire. No, no, you great lummox, she’s your employer and a Lady, for all that they don’t say Lady here, you can’t say that. that I am the boys and I are proud to be your employees and that all of us think that what Bleys said about you is complete and utter shite.
Your humble servants respectfully,

Instead of pinning the printout to her bulletin board where others might read it, Kendal folded it up and put it in her pocket over her pounding heart. It seemed entirely possible that Cadmar returned the crush she had on him.


From Janni Nell:

Dr. Frobisher, you asshole

Do you realize what you’ve done? I suppose you’d say you were saving a life. Just another day at the office. Well, guess again. The truth is you’ve done something unthinkable.

You’re probably scratching your head about now. Probably wondering why I’m not grateful you treated me before I bled out from that artery wound. (Just so you know, my kind gets wounds like that all the time. We always heal before we bleed out.) And sure, I know you thought you were doing the right thing giving me human blood—your blood— but inter-species transfusions are always risky. I suppose you’ve never treated one of us before. Maybe you thought we were just myths like everyone says. Do you even understand the terrible thing you’ve done to me?

Your blood is in my veins now…mingling with mine…causing my heart to pound every time I see you. My palms sweat. I hunger for your touch. Is this what humans call love? Is this what drives your kind to cross oceans and fight dragons for your beloved? Will I be like this forever? There must be a cure. You have to help me Dr. Frobisher.

Eternally yours


From Chaos Station by Jenn Burke

Dear Fixer,

According to the Standard calendar, today is a holiday known as Valentine’s Day. I am not sure if you celebrate this event as you are not wearing pink or red, which seem to be traditional colors. I have also not observed the appearance of any heart symbols decorating your work area in Engineering. (Though, if you wish to make some, I would be happy to assist. Please let me know.)

My research has illustrated that it is customary to send notes to chosen recipients on this day, otherwise known as valentines, to profess one’s regard. Chocolates and cut flowers also seem to be popular gifts, but I was unable to procure either item at the last station. I am therefore sending you this note to request that you be my valentine.

Perhaps you could answer a question for me? Why do humans call the heart symbol a heart? It bears no resemblance to an actual human heart. I spent a great deal of time last evening evaluating and comparing heart symbols and holographic images of human hearts to see the correlation but I was unable to do so. I also profess confusion as to how any emotion can be attributed to an organ key to the cardiovascular function of the human body. It was my understanding that emotions are a function of the human brain. Is that not the case?

I await your reply.


From Sea Change by Cindy Spencer Pape

Dearest Heidi,
As I watch you sleep, I can’t help but marvel at the fates that brought us together. You’ve given up everything for me—your career, your life as a human, even your chance at Valhalla. All I have to give you in return is my heart. Can that truly be enough?
All my love,


Dear Jake,
You idiot. Of course it’s enough. Love is the only magic that counts.
Now quit being sappy and come to bed.

From Magic of the Nile by Veronica Scott:

Love letter from Captain Sahure to High Priestess Tyema, 1550 BCE
Beloved wife, I wish you life, prosperity, health…
The patrol goes well, the enemy runs before us like the hyena spawn they are…
Yet I long to return to your arms, dear heart…
I miss the sound of your sweet voice, honeyed like the finest date wine…
I long for the touch of your hand, soft as the touch of a lotus petal…
You are without peer among Egypt’s fairest…
A goddess of the sunrise, planted square in my heart.
When by Pharaoh’s leave I return to your couch, the day shall be made splendid with our loving.
A million times over…
My heart will be delighted by the sight of you.

Veronica Scott's note: Based on several actual love songs from the era in which this story of mine is set. In the novel Sahure tells Tyema he’s no poet, a soldier not a man of honeyed words…but I like to think this is the way he sees her and the words he would say if he expressed what’s in his heart.

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