So I'm not an American, but I'm thrilled at the SCOTUS decision that was handed down today! I live in a country where marriage equality has been the law of the land for over a decade, and I truly believe we are far better for it as a people. I'm excited that the minds and hearts of my neighbours to the south are opening up and more people are seeing that love doesn't have to conform to one single pattern in order to be legitimate and beautiful. So, in honour of the ruling, here's a snippet about love:
From Arcadian's Balm:
Tomis let the door slam behind him. When he saw Gevaril sitting by the fire pit, he felt his fists clench.
The curly-haired man regarded him calmly, cocking his head as if he were simply curious.
Pain swelled in Tomis’s chest, a writhing, pulsing ball of hurt and humiliation that went back six long, painful years. His eyes stung. His throat grew tight.
Gevaril rose in a graceful movement. He opened his hands, palms up. “Have at ‘er, Red.” He stepped forward. “Fuck me or throw that punch you been wanting to throw. I’ll take either.”
Even as he felt his arm lift, Tomis knew which one he’d chosen. He grabbed the other man’s shoulder roughly, staring into those piercing blue eyes he’d once believed held every good thing in life.
The corner of Gevaril’s finely-formed mouth quirked in that arrogant way it always had. Tears blurring his vision, Tomis shoved his former lover backward and felt himself drop to his knees. He curled against the pain in his belly, though it was nothing compared to the pain that went deeper.
How could he do it? How could he love someone who had torn his heart out?
Strong-fingered hands traced over his wet face. Tomis trembled as calloused thumbs brushed the tears from beneath his eyes.
“We can get past this,” Gevaril murmured. “Truly, love, we can. It’s all still here, everything we’ve always felt, everything we wanted… it’s all still here. We can get it back.”
Tomis shook his head violently, feeling his queue smack against his shoulder. “It won’t be the same.”
Gevaril cupped Tomis’s face and delicately touched their foreheads together. “It won’t. But it can be good. Really good. I promise. Please, Red, we need to try. Let me show you I… please….”
Though his self-preservation instincts screamed for him to run, Tomis didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt Gevaril’s tender touch burn into his skin as he breathed in his minty breath. Every nerve in his body was shimmering, fiercely attuned to his old lover.
He tried one more time. “F-fuck you.”
Gevaril’s lips pressed gently over his. “If you like. I seem to remember you enjoying it the other way, though.”
He was right, of course. Tomis loved getting fucked. He especially loved getting fucked by Gevaril, whose cock fit his ass with a sublime perfection he’d never felt before or after.
His cock was rock-hard, his loins on fire. Tomis realized that he was clutching at Gevaril’s arms. There was really nowhere else to go. Nothing else to do.
With a sob of surrender, he lunged forward against the man who had always held his heart, opening his mouth, sucking hard on the bigger man’s tongue. The sleek texture was everything he remembered.
“Red… oh, my Red….” Gevaril nipped at Tomis’s jaw before unerringly finding the cord in his neck where the right pressure could make him half mad.
Groaning, Tomis laced his fingers through his lover’s curls. Gev.
Somewhere in the haze of passion, he realized that Gevaril had scrambled up and was yanking him to his feet as well. Tomis obeyed without question, lacing his arms around the stronger man’s neck and letting Gevaril grasp and lift his thighs. He wrapped his legs tightly round his lover’s waist, moaning in pleasure at the feel of their hard cocks pressed together, even though the fabric of their clothing was still between them.
For the first time in six years, Tomis was carried to bed.
Friday, 26 June 2015
Sunday, 21 June 2015
All About that Bass
So this is going to be a total departure from what I usually blog about. I'm not much for talking about my personal life on a writer blog... yeah, I know y'all are mostly on here just to see the dirty little snippets from my stories that I put up, but I think this is too important to ignore.
I've been quiet for a bit, and I'll explain why. The easiest thing would just be to say "health issues", and it's the truth, but I'm going to give more detail. It cumulated in me having to undergo testing for colon cancer.
Everything is about the ass right now. Anal is the new oral in erotic romance. And in real life. So many people are trying it. Many of them really like it. Celebrities get famous for having large, luscious bottoms. Butts are memorialized in pop songs. It's all about the sexual function of the ass, but the thing is, we have to remember that there's more to our permanent vertical smiles than sex. We live or die based on how healthfully things move through there.
Yeah, I'm talking about the original function of asses now. Seriously not sexy. I'd been noticing that I was getting progressively weaker, my appetite was fading (REALLY weird for me), and my digestion was very off. I'd always thought I was vigilant about my bowels, because I've lost family members to colon cancer before, and I know I"m at risk for it. Weirdly enough, when I started to experience warning signs, I initially ignored them. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt. But it got to the point where I couldn't ignore it. I was spending sixteen hours a day asleep, and the other eight curled in the fetal position, moaning in pain and clutching my belly. My life ground to a halt. I couldn't work. Sex (either by myself or with anyone else) was out of the question.
So I went to the doctor, and I had to tell him that I, a person at risk for colon cancer, had been ignoring the fact that there was blood in the toilet after I moved my bowels. After he gave me a stern lecture about not ignoring serious symptoms, we began the testing process. Some bits were so disgusting I can't bring myself to discuss them. As soon as the first results were in, I got booked with the surgeon for the dreaded colonoscopy.
Very few people who are in their thirties expect that they'll need a camera shoved up their ass. I don't imagine that anyone looks forward to it. But as the days dragged by, I found myself wishing time to go faster, so I could get it done. I knew I was sick, but I wanted to know exactly how sick, so I could figure out what to do about it. I was actually eager to get started on the prep, which is pretty much two days of clear liquids and very strong laxatives. Those were probably the two longest days of my life. I staggered back and forth between my bed and the bathroom, never catching more than an hour or two of sleep at a time because once you've taken laxatives you really don't trust yourself to relax all that much.
As I'd been sick for a while anyhow, the preparation was really hard on my body. My darling dad came to town to take care of me, and he had to push me through the hospital in a wheelchair because I was too weak to walk. Then I went into shock when they put the IV in. So I to spend a few hours laying there in pre-op, getting fluids and waiting for my blood pressure to stabilize before I could go in.
By that point, I was utterly convinced I had cancer. I started composing good-bye letters in my head to give to the people I love the most. I sorrowed for the fact that I wouldn't be able to finish the Wildlands series. My brain worked through every mistake I'd ever made, every regret I ever had, and I started to mourn the fact that my life was ending after only 34 years.
When I finally went into the operating room, the doctor asked me if I had any questions, and I asked him how long I would live with cancer. He didn't answer; just told the nurse to give me the sedative. I drifted off lying on my side, as someone was opening the back of my gown so they could insert a six-foot hose into my butt. I remember offering to slip them a fifty if they would grease it well.
When I woke up, the surgeon was standing there, smiling at me. My colon was perfectly normal, except for the fact that I apparently don't eat enough fibre. The GI specialist was called, and after one simple conversation and a look at my medical records, she concluded that my pain and weakness was a reaction to a medication I'd started a few months back, that was apparently doing a number on my digestive system and severely straining my liver.
So I don't have cancer. My dramatic mental preparations for death seem rather silly now. I stopped the drug, and my system is slowly healing. I'm still tired and weak, but I'm sleeping only about 12 hours a day now, and I'm hoping to be able to go back to my 'day' job within another month. The mind fog is clearing, and I've started to write again.
You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all of this. The first reason is as a public service announcement. Colon cancer is a silent, brutal killer. I've watched some of the people I've loved most in the world succomb to it, because the symptoms usually don't show up until it's progressed to the point where it could be too late. And even then, they may have ignored the symptoms out of fear. So if you're over 40, or if you have family history, don't die of embarassment. Talk to your doctor about screening. When it's caught in the early stages, it's not a death sentence. My granddad lived 40 years after his first bout.
The second reason I'm talking about it is that this whole experience has given me a strange new relationship with my body. I underwent some incredibly invasive, humiliating medical procedures, which was something I'd never done before. Having never given birth, I haven't had much cause to have doctors 'down there', except for that quick yearly exam that we all pretend isn't happening. But being probed inside and out has somehow made me more comfortable with my body, with who I am as a person and my place on this earth. It brought me to a new acceptance of the reality of my body, imperfect as it may be. It's mine. It's me.
I've had some weird, freaky sex (not as wild as my characters, but wild enough). I consented to having my body touched in those ways for pleasure. It's a different thing to have people (especially strangers rather than someone you care about and trust) touching you when it feels absolutely horrible, and you know no pleasure is forthcoming. I've never been a fan of pain for pain's sake. But I accepted it, endured it, almost welcomed it, because there was a higher purpose. I wanted to stay alive. So I've come to find a new appreciation for the less comfortable, pleasurable things in life, because the fact remains, I like life. As I try to regain my strength, I've done some simple workouts. After a few months of hardly moving, it hurts like a sonofabitch. But I welcome the pain because I know it's necessary. A bowl of oat bran in the mornings isn't as tasty as a sausage-egg sandwich. But it will help me stay alive longer, make my body work better, and in the long run, I guess that makes it all worth it.
I've been quiet for a bit, and I'll explain why. The easiest thing would just be to say "health issues", and it's the truth, but I'm going to give more detail. It cumulated in me having to undergo testing for colon cancer.
Everything is about the ass right now. Anal is the new oral in erotic romance. And in real life. So many people are trying it. Many of them really like it. Celebrities get famous for having large, luscious bottoms. Butts are memorialized in pop songs. It's all about the sexual function of the ass, but the thing is, we have to remember that there's more to our permanent vertical smiles than sex. We live or die based on how healthfully things move through there.
Yeah, I'm talking about the original function of asses now. Seriously not sexy. I'd been noticing that I was getting progressively weaker, my appetite was fading (REALLY weird for me), and my digestion was very off. I'd always thought I was vigilant about my bowels, because I've lost family members to colon cancer before, and I know I"m at risk for it. Weirdly enough, when I started to experience warning signs, I initially ignored them. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt. But it got to the point where I couldn't ignore it. I was spending sixteen hours a day asleep, and the other eight curled in the fetal position, moaning in pain and clutching my belly. My life ground to a halt. I couldn't work. Sex (either by myself or with anyone else) was out of the question.
So I went to the doctor, and I had to tell him that I, a person at risk for colon cancer, had been ignoring the fact that there was blood in the toilet after I moved my bowels. After he gave me a stern lecture about not ignoring serious symptoms, we began the testing process. Some bits were so disgusting I can't bring myself to discuss them. As soon as the first results were in, I got booked with the surgeon for the dreaded colonoscopy.
Very few people who are in their thirties expect that they'll need a camera shoved up their ass. I don't imagine that anyone looks forward to it. But as the days dragged by, I found myself wishing time to go faster, so I could get it done. I knew I was sick, but I wanted to know exactly how sick, so I could figure out what to do about it. I was actually eager to get started on the prep, which is pretty much two days of clear liquids and very strong laxatives. Those were probably the two longest days of my life. I staggered back and forth between my bed and the bathroom, never catching more than an hour or two of sleep at a time because once you've taken laxatives you really don't trust yourself to relax all that much.
As I'd been sick for a while anyhow, the preparation was really hard on my body. My darling dad came to town to take care of me, and he had to push me through the hospital in a wheelchair because I was too weak to walk. Then I went into shock when they put the IV in. So I to spend a few hours laying there in pre-op, getting fluids and waiting for my blood pressure to stabilize before I could go in.
By that point, I was utterly convinced I had cancer. I started composing good-bye letters in my head to give to the people I love the most. I sorrowed for the fact that I wouldn't be able to finish the Wildlands series. My brain worked through every mistake I'd ever made, every regret I ever had, and I started to mourn the fact that my life was ending after only 34 years.
When I finally went into the operating room, the doctor asked me if I had any questions, and I asked him how long I would live with cancer. He didn't answer; just told the nurse to give me the sedative. I drifted off lying on my side, as someone was opening the back of my gown so they could insert a six-foot hose into my butt. I remember offering to slip them a fifty if they would grease it well.
When I woke up, the surgeon was standing there, smiling at me. My colon was perfectly normal, except for the fact that I apparently don't eat enough fibre. The GI specialist was called, and after one simple conversation and a look at my medical records, she concluded that my pain and weakness was a reaction to a medication I'd started a few months back, that was apparently doing a number on my digestive system and severely straining my liver.
So I don't have cancer. My dramatic mental preparations for death seem rather silly now. I stopped the drug, and my system is slowly healing. I'm still tired and weak, but I'm sleeping only about 12 hours a day now, and I'm hoping to be able to go back to my 'day' job within another month. The mind fog is clearing, and I've started to write again.
You're probably wondering why I'm telling you all of this. The first reason is as a public service announcement. Colon cancer is a silent, brutal killer. I've watched some of the people I've loved most in the world succomb to it, because the symptoms usually don't show up until it's progressed to the point where it could be too late. And even then, they may have ignored the symptoms out of fear. So if you're over 40, or if you have family history, don't die of embarassment. Talk to your doctor about screening. When it's caught in the early stages, it's not a death sentence. My granddad lived 40 years after his first bout.
The second reason I'm talking about it is that this whole experience has given me a strange new relationship with my body. I underwent some incredibly invasive, humiliating medical procedures, which was something I'd never done before. Having never given birth, I haven't had much cause to have doctors 'down there', except for that quick yearly exam that we all pretend isn't happening. But being probed inside and out has somehow made me more comfortable with my body, with who I am as a person and my place on this earth. It brought me to a new acceptance of the reality of my body, imperfect as it may be. It's mine. It's me.
I've had some weird, freaky sex (not as wild as my characters, but wild enough). I consented to having my body touched in those ways for pleasure. It's a different thing to have people (especially strangers rather than someone you care about and trust) touching you when it feels absolutely horrible, and you know no pleasure is forthcoming. I've never been a fan of pain for pain's sake. But I accepted it, endured it, almost welcomed it, because there was a higher purpose. I wanted to stay alive. So I've come to find a new appreciation for the less comfortable, pleasurable things in life, because the fact remains, I like life. As I try to regain my strength, I've done some simple workouts. After a few months of hardly moving, it hurts like a sonofabitch. But I welcome the pain because I know it's necessary. A bowl of oat bran in the mornings isn't as tasty as a sausage-egg sandwich. But it will help me stay alive longer, make my body work better, and in the long run, I guess that makes it all worth it.
Thursday, 21 May 2015
Ask-a-Wildlander Question # 1
So I've gotten a few questions from the Ask-A-Wildlander segment. How exciting!
We are going to start with Tova:
Dear Blaise,
Although you did seem to redeem yourself at the end of Wildlanders' Woman, you were kind of a difficult man to love. You were really unsympathetic to Ava's plight, her discomfort with her new situation, and generally just an unpleasant person. I think you were really damn lucky that she decided to love you in spite of all of that. All of your Clan does, and I just don't get it. So my question is, how do you feel like you can inspire loyalty in your Clan when you're really not that nice to them?
Blaise: First, I gotta wait until my Clan mates stop laughing, here. I can still kick your arse, hunter, remember that. And wee b'y, remember who trades for your precious books.
Little sister Tova, all's I can say is that first it's a little hurtful ye thinks so poorly of me. Fact is, I give everything to my Clan. Everything. You seen how it works at the end of Wildlanders' Woman. They fucks up, I pays the price.
Killian: Well, I'd like to remind you, big brother, that...
Blaise: Shaddup!
Killian: Fine, then.
Blaise: I've a great deal on my shoulders, dear Tova. My Clan mates all count on me to head the family, to make proper decisions, and to guide us all down the best pathways. Bringin' a bride into the mix just makes it tougher. And remember, we was all in love with Ava even before we brought her home. Meeting her in the market in that Softfoot city that day... it changed my life. She possessed me then. I knew there was none for me but her. Then that chinless bastard of a Commissioner offers me a trade, gets rid of her like she's no more than rubbish... we gives her a far better life in the Wildlands. She's exalted and honored here. So when she comes in, and she don't see that, it hurts, deep down to the soul. I sees in my mind how it can be, a happy Clan, all lovin' together, and I know how happy we can make her, how much we can please her. But she fights it!
Daven: What he means, Tova, is that he's shocked a woman has thoughts of her own and intelligence inside of her head. He can't see past his own pride to understand he's not the center of everything.
Blaise:Ye want me to stake you out as deragon bait?
Daven: Try it. The rest of your mates love me, remember? None of them can keep off my gorgeous cock. Mine gets touched far more than yours does.
Blaise: That's only 'cuz I actually give a care where I stick mine.
Daven: You stick it in the only one of our mates who would actually take you. Ava's a kind soul that way.
Crash! Clatter!
Jodah: Rrroooaar!
Killian: Oh, fuck.
Ava: Boys! Enough! Or nobody's sticking any cock in me for at least a month!
Silence.
Ava: That's better. Now Blaise, please finish answering the young lady's question.
Blaise: Fact is, I knows what was best for Ava and my Clan. Accept the love, and then everyone's content. So I try make that happen. I know that the faster it happens, the easier it is for everyone. So I push, thinking that Ava would see my wisdom soon. Sadly, I pushed too hard. And I caused her to resort to desperate things, which hurt her and the whole Circle. I paid the price for that, though. And all has been forgiven between us. I know I ain't perfect. But I tries my best to do what's right for my Clan and my Circle, and I should get some respect for that.
Ava: What my darling mate means to say is that he is sorry for his mistakes, and he will try much harder in the future to be a more pleasant person and respect the intelligence of everyone in the Clan before making decisions.
Blaise: Sweetling, that's not entirely...
Ava: Yes, it is.
Blaise: Fuck.
Ava: Not now, my love. But when we get home.
Blaise: Aye!
Ava: Once you admit that you don't always know what's best.
Blaise: I already done that.
Ava: But I'd like to hear it one more time.
Blaise: Make the rest of them stop laughing first.
We are going to start with Tova:
Dear Blaise,
Although you did seem to redeem yourself at the end of Wildlanders' Woman, you were kind of a difficult man to love. You were really unsympathetic to Ava's plight, her discomfort with her new situation, and generally just an unpleasant person. I think you were really damn lucky that she decided to love you in spite of all of that. All of your Clan does, and I just don't get it. So my question is, how do you feel like you can inspire loyalty in your Clan when you're really not that nice to them?
Blaise: First, I gotta wait until my Clan mates stop laughing, here. I can still kick your arse, hunter, remember that. And wee b'y, remember who trades for your precious books.
Little sister Tova, all's I can say is that first it's a little hurtful ye thinks so poorly of me. Fact is, I give everything to my Clan. Everything. You seen how it works at the end of Wildlanders' Woman. They fucks up, I pays the price.
Killian: Well, I'd like to remind you, big brother, that...
Blaise: Shaddup!
Killian: Fine, then.
Blaise: I've a great deal on my shoulders, dear Tova. My Clan mates all count on me to head the family, to make proper decisions, and to guide us all down the best pathways. Bringin' a bride into the mix just makes it tougher. And remember, we was all in love with Ava even before we brought her home. Meeting her in the market in that Softfoot city that day... it changed my life. She possessed me then. I knew there was none for me but her. Then that chinless bastard of a Commissioner offers me a trade, gets rid of her like she's no more than rubbish... we gives her a far better life in the Wildlands. She's exalted and honored here. So when she comes in, and she don't see that, it hurts, deep down to the soul. I sees in my mind how it can be, a happy Clan, all lovin' together, and I know how happy we can make her, how much we can please her. But she fights it!
Daven: What he means, Tova, is that he's shocked a woman has thoughts of her own and intelligence inside of her head. He can't see past his own pride to understand he's not the center of everything.
Blaise:Ye want me to stake you out as deragon bait?
Daven: Try it. The rest of your mates love me, remember? None of them can keep off my gorgeous cock. Mine gets touched far more than yours does.
Blaise: That's only 'cuz I actually give a care where I stick mine.
Daven: You stick it in the only one of our mates who would actually take you. Ava's a kind soul that way.
Crash! Clatter!
Jodah: Rrroooaar!
Killian: Oh, fuck.
Ava: Boys! Enough! Or nobody's sticking any cock in me for at least a month!
Silence.
Ava: That's better. Now Blaise, please finish answering the young lady's question.
Blaise: Fact is, I knows what was best for Ava and my Clan. Accept the love, and then everyone's content. So I try make that happen. I know that the faster it happens, the easier it is for everyone. So I push, thinking that Ava would see my wisdom soon. Sadly, I pushed too hard. And I caused her to resort to desperate things, which hurt her and the whole Circle. I paid the price for that, though. And all has been forgiven between us. I know I ain't perfect. But I tries my best to do what's right for my Clan and my Circle, and I should get some respect for that.
Ava: What my darling mate means to say is that he is sorry for his mistakes, and he will try much harder in the future to be a more pleasant person and respect the intelligence of everyone in the Clan before making decisions.
Blaise: Sweetling, that's not entirely...
Ava: Yes, it is.
Blaise: Fuck.
Ava: Not now, my love. But when we get home.
Blaise: Aye!
Ava: Once you admit that you don't always know what's best.
Blaise: I already done that.
Ava: But I'd like to hear it one more time.
Blaise: Make the rest of them stop laughing first.
Wednesday, 13 May 2015
Sneak Peek from Innocence Aroused
Hey all,
I'm working on Arcadian's Balm and Innocence Aroused. Apparently I can't just write one book at a time. The joys of having ADHD, I suppose. But I guess I shouldn't complain about my strange brain. It enables me to write dirty books, and that's fun!
Anyhow, here's a little clip from Innocence Aroused:
Coral drifted awake slowly as she waded through the memories of the evening and took careful inventory of her body. Her nipples and clit ached. Her limbs were weak. Her throat was sore from screaming. And she had a vague sense of discord deep within, that something had fundamentally shifted in her relationship with Josiah, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Did the man ever sleep? “Is it morning?”
“No, it’s actually about midnight.” He helped her to sit. “The boys are still out in the yard. Probably finishing my beer.”
“But you’re up here with me.” Coral pushed herself up on her knees and turned to face him. She needed to see his face, and she needed to be tall enough that she felt like his equal.
Josiah stroked her hair back. “Tonight’s scene was intense. You wouldn’t stay awake long enough to let me bring you down properly, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to let you sleep alone.”
Coral vaguely remembered him bathing and massaging her. “What else do we need to do?”
“Talk, mostly. We stepped up the game tonight. Brought you farther than you’ve been before. It’s the first time you’ve actually begged me to stop.”
Coral bit her lip, suddenly hurt at the memory. “But you didn’t.”
“You didn’t use your safe word,” he said flatly. “That’s the way we’ve set this up, sweets. You still don’t trust yourself enough to ask for what you want. Fuck, you don’t even trust yourself enough to admit what you want, so we’ve agreed that you let me figure it out. And you let me give it to you. And you trust me to never take you beyond what you can handle.”
“It hurt.” Coral shifted slightly, trying to relieve pressure on her abused clit. “Especially when you used that vibrator. It hurt. You made it so I had no choice but to come, and I had to figure out how to do it while it hurt.”
Josiah seemed unaffected by her accusations. “You like pain. You’ve admitted that to me more than once. And the point is, you had to make yourself come. I didn’t do it for you.”
I'm working on Arcadian's Balm and Innocence Aroused. Apparently I can't just write one book at a time. The joys of having ADHD, I suppose. But I guess I shouldn't complain about my strange brain. It enables me to write dirty books, and that's fun!
Anyhow, here's a little clip from Innocence Aroused:
Coral drifted awake slowly as she waded through the memories of the evening and took careful inventory of her body. Her nipples and clit ached. Her limbs were weak. Her throat was sore from screaming. And she had a vague sense of discord deep within, that something had fundamentally shifted in her relationship with Josiah, and she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Did the man ever sleep? “Is it morning?”
“No, it’s actually about midnight.” He helped her to sit. “The boys are still out in the yard. Probably finishing my beer.”
“But you’re up here with me.” Coral pushed herself up on her knees and turned to face him. She needed to see his face, and she needed to be tall enough that she felt like his equal.
Josiah stroked her hair back. “Tonight’s scene was intense. You wouldn’t stay awake long enough to let me bring you down properly, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to let you sleep alone.”
Coral vaguely remembered him bathing and massaging her. “What else do we need to do?”
“Talk, mostly. We stepped up the game tonight. Brought you farther than you’ve been before. It’s the first time you’ve actually begged me to stop.”
Coral bit her lip, suddenly hurt at the memory. “But you didn’t.”
“You didn’t use your safe word,” he said flatly. “That’s the way we’ve set this up, sweets. You still don’t trust yourself enough to ask for what you want. Fuck, you don’t even trust yourself enough to admit what you want, so we’ve agreed that you let me figure it out. And you let me give it to you. And you trust me to never take you beyond what you can handle.”
“It hurt.” Coral shifted slightly, trying to relieve pressure on her abused clit. “Especially when you used that vibrator. It hurt. You made it so I had no choice but to come, and I had to figure out how to do it while it hurt.”
Josiah seemed unaffected by her accusations. “You like pain. You’ve admitted that to me more than once. And the point is, you had to make yourself come. I didn’t do it for you.”
Thursday, 7 May 2015
Awesome Blog Interview!
So I'd like to thank Kelly D. Smith of the SmithandLeduc Everything Writing blog for being so kind as to interview me this past week. It was really cool to be able to talk about my writing and give out a few tips. Anyhow, check out the interview here!
Monday, 4 May 2015
A Discussion of Consent
If you're on this blog, you've likely read some of my work. If you've read some of my work, particularly the Wildlands books, you've figured out that I sometimes like to play with questions of consent. So let's talk about it for a few minutes.
First, I want to make it VERY clear that I am a strong advocate for enthusiastic consent in all real-life sexual encounters. Sex is only sex if all parties have agreed to engage in the activity without coercion, intoxication, intimidation, etc. Otherwise, it's a crime.
That being said, dubcon, or even noncon, can be a kink. For certain people, there is something titillating in the idea of being overcome sexually, having your body taken over by a strong, sensual partner who awakens something within you and forces you to respond. It can be a fun sexual game if that's what you're into, and I won't say that I've never tried it. But such games must be undertaken very carefully, with agreed-upon parameters, safety precautions, etc. That is vital for the physical and emotional safety of all parties involved. It's rather ironic, that a dubcon fantasy must be entered into with enthusiastic consent. But it's the reality. Otherwise, the results can be disastrous, and leave people with lifelong scars.
For those of us who do have a dubcon kink, erotic fiction of a certain kind can provide a safe way of exploring those fantasies. For some women, especially those raised in a sexually repressive environment where they are taught that their ladybits are bad and dirty, it's easier to 'forgive' a heroine who experiences pleasure in forced or coerced sex because she did not have a choice. The sex, and by extension the pleasure, was forced upon her. We are going to look at an extension of that mentality in Innocence Aroused, where the heroine enters into a d/s relationship in part because it's easier for her to enjoy her sexual experiences when she can tell herself that she did not have a choice. So we will have to examine that mentality, see whether it's healthy, and whether she can, or should, move on from that eventually.
In a way, writing the kink into the Wildlands series is a lot easier. It's a fantasy world. Though fantasy worlds must have an element of believability to them, it's different than writing about contemporary reality. The Wildland Tribute system is, at its core, a form of marriage-by-capture, and in most of human tradition, marriage has given males the automatic rights over their wives' bodies. In First Possession, even as Ava panics at the sexual act she's about to be performing, she understands that she is essentially these men's wife, and therefore required to allow them access to her body. Part of the narrative of Wildlanders' Woman, particularly the tension between Ava and Blaise, and as we see in the brief scene between Darock and Sarina, is the fundamental difference in perspective between the Arcadian women and the Wildlander men. Wives they may be, but the Arcadian women struggle with the intimacies performed upon them. At times, they feel violated. The Wildlander males don't understand why their women could feel this way, as they always ensure their pleasure. The Wildlander obsession with physical enjoyment makes it difficult for them to comprehend why anyone would choose not to engage in sex, as it leads to such pleasure.
The problems that arise in Wildlanders' Woman, particularly surrounding Ava's addiction and Sarina's criminal activities, are evidence of the problematic nature of the Wildlander mentality. Something's gotta give, here. So as the series progresses, the society will have to move toward a better understanding between the two groups.
First, I want to make it VERY clear that I am a strong advocate for enthusiastic consent in all real-life sexual encounters. Sex is only sex if all parties have agreed to engage in the activity without coercion, intoxication, intimidation, etc. Otherwise, it's a crime.
That being said, dubcon, or even noncon, can be a kink. For certain people, there is something titillating in the idea of being overcome sexually, having your body taken over by a strong, sensual partner who awakens something within you and forces you to respond. It can be a fun sexual game if that's what you're into, and I won't say that I've never tried it. But such games must be undertaken very carefully, with agreed-upon parameters, safety precautions, etc. That is vital for the physical and emotional safety of all parties involved. It's rather ironic, that a dubcon fantasy must be entered into with enthusiastic consent. But it's the reality. Otherwise, the results can be disastrous, and leave people with lifelong scars.
For those of us who do have a dubcon kink, erotic fiction of a certain kind can provide a safe way of exploring those fantasies. For some women, especially those raised in a sexually repressive environment where they are taught that their ladybits are bad and dirty, it's easier to 'forgive' a heroine who experiences pleasure in forced or coerced sex because she did not have a choice. The sex, and by extension the pleasure, was forced upon her. We are going to look at an extension of that mentality in Innocence Aroused, where the heroine enters into a d/s relationship in part because it's easier for her to enjoy her sexual experiences when she can tell herself that she did not have a choice. So we will have to examine that mentality, see whether it's healthy, and whether she can, or should, move on from that eventually.
In a way, writing the kink into the Wildlands series is a lot easier. It's a fantasy world. Though fantasy worlds must have an element of believability to them, it's different than writing about contemporary reality. The Wildland Tribute system is, at its core, a form of marriage-by-capture, and in most of human tradition, marriage has given males the automatic rights over their wives' bodies. In First Possession, even as Ava panics at the sexual act she's about to be performing, she understands that she is essentially these men's wife, and therefore required to allow them access to her body. Part of the narrative of Wildlanders' Woman, particularly the tension between Ava and Blaise, and as we see in the brief scene between Darock and Sarina, is the fundamental difference in perspective between the Arcadian women and the Wildlander men. Wives they may be, but the Arcadian women struggle with the intimacies performed upon them. At times, they feel violated. The Wildlander males don't understand why their women could feel this way, as they always ensure their pleasure. The Wildlander obsession with physical enjoyment makes it difficult for them to comprehend why anyone would choose not to engage in sex, as it leads to such pleasure.
The problems that arise in Wildlanders' Woman, particularly surrounding Ava's addiction and Sarina's criminal activities, are evidence of the problematic nature of the Wildlander mentality. Something's gotta give, here. So as the series progresses, the society will have to move toward a better understanding between the two groups.
Cover of Innocence Aroused and Sneak Peek
Here's the cover for Innocence Aroused, the next installment in the Innocents serial. It continues the story of Coral, a religious fundamentalist young woman experiencing a sexual awakening at the hands of Josiah, a reclusive mountain homesteader. And, as we'll discover in this story, his friends.***
Coral was preparing to load the dishwasher when Josiah came in. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and she thrilled to be held against his powerful chest. Already, her pussy quivered in anticipation of whatever he’d come up with for tonight.
“Go shower,” he murmured in her ear. “Put your hair up. Then you go wait for me, naked, by the door out onto the porch, in thirty minutes. Figure we should take advantage of this warm night, eh?”
Arousal oozed from between her sex lips. Coral squirmed. Outside, the others could see her. Was that what he intended? Was that what she… wanted?
No, that would be wrong. But if Josiah ordered her to do so, she had to obey. She trembled in excitement, her sex growing slick. They might all look at her, see Josiah make love to her, and wish that they were in his place. How would it feel, she wondered, to have someone other than Josiah inside of her?
She flushed with shame at the thought.
Twenty minutes later, she was hurrying back downstairs, anxious to get into position before he came for her. But he was waiting. When she tried to sink into position, he caught her arm.
“I told you, I don’t need that.”
Outside, one of the lounge chairs was set up at the base of the porch steps, straps and cuffs draped neatly over. Coral’s tummy clenched in anticipation. She glanced around, seeing Lachlan, Pike, Kabel, and Wolf in a half-circle by the fire pit, all with a very good view of what was about to happen.
Coral bit her lip and looked up to Josiah, whose eyes were gleaming. “Let’s just see how much you get off on being watched. We’ll start with a spanking, seeing as how I know how much you like those, but we’ll do it a little differently. I want you to put your hands on the second step from the bottom. Legs spread nice and wide.”
*** Every sexual experience in this story is undertaken with full consent of the heroine, as per the parameters of the d/s relationship.
Coral was preparing to load the dishwasher when Josiah came in. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and she thrilled to be held against his powerful chest. Already, her pussy quivered in anticipation of whatever he’d come up with for tonight.
“Go shower,” he murmured in her ear. “Put your hair up. Then you go wait for me, naked, by the door out onto the porch, in thirty minutes. Figure we should take advantage of this warm night, eh?”
Arousal oozed from between her sex lips. Coral squirmed. Outside, the others could see her. Was that what he intended? Was that what she… wanted?
No, that would be wrong. But if Josiah ordered her to do so, she had to obey. She trembled in excitement, her sex growing slick. They might all look at her, see Josiah make love to her, and wish that they were in his place. How would it feel, she wondered, to have someone other than Josiah inside of her?
She flushed with shame at the thought.
Twenty minutes later, she was hurrying back downstairs, anxious to get into position before he came for her. But he was waiting. When she tried to sink into position, he caught her arm.
“I told you, I don’t need that.”
Outside, one of the lounge chairs was set up at the base of the porch steps, straps and cuffs draped neatly over. Coral’s tummy clenched in anticipation. She glanced around, seeing Lachlan, Pike, Kabel, and Wolf in a half-circle by the fire pit, all with a very good view of what was about to happen.
Coral bit her lip and looked up to Josiah, whose eyes were gleaming. “Let’s just see how much you get off on being watched. We’ll start with a spanking, seeing as how I know how much you like those, but we’ll do it a little differently. I want you to put your hands on the second step from the bottom. Legs spread nice and wide.”
*** Every sexual experience in this story is undertaken with full consent of the heroine, as per the parameters of the d/s relationship.
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