An Example of My Strangeness

I was in the Romance Diva chatroom recently and we were discussing various birds. We discovered this definition: “kestrel,” 1674, from wind (n.) + hover; so called from the bird’s habit of hovering in the wind. An earlier name for it was windfucker (1599).

We thought that was hilarious. I thought it sounded like a perfect name for a Dances With Wolves type erotic romance. So, here is a blurb I worked up for this fictitious fiction.

Unfortunately, she’s a bird.

Beautiful, fragile. And not of his species.

And with that pointy beak, she would never be able to give him the head he so desperately wanted.

But the moment he hears her warble the spirit breed mating call he can’t help himself. Ancient instinct takes over and he finds himself driven to dig up worms and scatter seed for her. He spends hours, naked, flapping his arms about in a dance designed for her pleasure. All this he does in the name of love, a force much greater than evolutionary taboos. But is it enough? Can Windfucker truly forgo fellatio for the rest of his life?

As for Mariah, she can’t understand the strange pull this creature has on her. What she does understand is he provides her with food on a regular basis and if she could just get him to stand still, she could feast on the very fat worm that dangled from his body so enticingly.

Will these star-crossed lovers overcome their differences and find happiness, or are they trapped by cruel Fate, doomed players in a cross-species, Bobbitt-like tragedy?