Janine Ashbless's Blog, page 53

Chihuahua-wah

I spent an hour or so last night holding a chihuahua. It was a very strange experience as I have never before come across a furry animal that simply wants to be held all the time. It was held by a succession of people all day - I was just the last volunteer.

I may have softened slightly toward the breed.

Prometheus

I posted a couple of pictures of the titan Prometheus way back when the short story version of Cover Him with Darkness came out, because I've subsumed it into the backstory:


But hell, I think it's time for some more! Escpecially for those of you who want to see a man tied up and menaced in High Art, for a change.

Briton Rivière (1840-1920), Prometheus, 1889

Harold Parker (1873-1962): Prometheus
Theodoor Rombouts (1597-1637) Prometheus Francesco Foschi - Prometeo incatenato in cime innevate del Caucaso Jacob Jordaens - Prometheus Bound (1640)
Christian Griepenkerl (1839-1916): Prometheus tortured by the Eagle
Nicolas-Sébastien Adam, 1762
 I took this one in a gallery in Palermo - sorry, no idea who the painter is!



There are probably hundreds more out there in the world - it is an extremely popular subject.  I can recommend Paintings Of The Torture Of Prometheus Where It Actually Looks Like The Eagle Assigned To Tear Out His Liver Is His New Boyfriend 
(thank you Jo!)

Going up a Gere

I've been fantasy-casting the movie of my Watchers trilogy again... and I reckon I'd let Richard Gere from Autumn in New York audition for the Archangel Uriel.

He has the right hair.
Hair matters. It's my movie, damnit.

"Can you do massively snobbish sexually-frustrated villain, Richard?"
I've just been writing a Uriel scene for The Valleys of the Earth. At 70K I'm now entering the endgame of the novel. This scene was a masterclass in pantsing because I had no idea how it was going to end when I started.
I knew I had to get my protagonist out of her current Dire Peril (... she is always in dire peril)I knew what would happen if it was an erotica book, but it isn'tI knew what would happen if it was a really mean horror story, but it isn'tI didn't want her to get rescued by one of her allies, just for a changeI didn't want her to give in to Uriel's manipulation So I started writing and ... ended up researching the Carboniferous period.

Writing is weird.

Red Monday

This is me in my old-school Scarlet Witch costume at Nine Worlds Geekfest this weekend.

Okay, I didn't do the boobs.
Someone asked me if I was supposed to be Cheetara from Thundercats :/

The scarlet letter

I'm off to Nine Worlds Geekfest!


Been making costume...



Guess who I'm going as?
 ;-)

Hot Octopus

I have never typed "Hot Octopus" before but I am strangely delighted by the euphonic phrase :-)

The Hot Octopus blog is hosting a guest post this week from Anna Sky, editor of Silence is Golden ... and she has picked an excerpt from my story In Real Life . I am very proud to represent this great anthology, so many hushed kisses all round :-)

As we’ve written in a previous post about the best writers on sex and disability, we’re big fans of erotica publisher Sexy Little Pages and their latest anthology, Silence Is Golden. It contains some gloriously hot, kinky and diverse representations of sex, and includes many characters with disabilities. So for #MasturbationMonday we teamed up with Sexy Little Pages to bring you an extract from the anthology. In this story, the narrator has gone on a date with Bryn, who is Deaf, and his interpreter, Hugh, and it’s turning out that three really isn’t a crowd. Enjoy!

The whole post here

Blue Monday - special Valleys of the Earth preview

Every Monday I post a wicked excerpt for your entertainment.

Today's excerpt is a bit special, as it's a first draft from my work-in-progress,  The Valleys of the Earth, and I'd be genuinely interested to hear if anyone has feedback about the morality of this short but pivotal sex-scene.

I get a lot of posts across my social network from progressive people who characterise any sexual encounter that falls short of enthusiastic, fully-informed, legally-constituted, consent as rape, and all rape as equally heinous.

I do think this scene is all sorts of nonconsensual murky grey ethical mess, though maybe not in the ways the protagonists see it. I'd be interested to know, if anyone else has an opinion, which - if either - of my characters do you think guilty of rape?

  
Satan, Sin and Death by William BlakeHere's some context: 

Egan is running a high fever from a wounded and infected arm and is not in full possession of his mental or physical capacities. The scene opens with Milja trying to cool him down with ice-water.They both are immensely attracted to each other, and care for each other deeply.They both have really good reasons not to have sex with the other, and so haven't done it.


I could feel the heat in my cheeks, too. Egan was massively guarded and private in his self. Touching him felt like being admitted to a mystery, and treading on holy ground. I owed him respect and humility in my care for him. Gentle, unhurried strokes, tender over the black blooms of his bruises. Concentration, seeking out the feverish heat to sooth it. Patience, taking my time, returning again and again in my attempts to comfort him and sooth the fire in his flesh.

While the slow burn kindled in mine.

"I love you, Milja," he said, shocking me out of my reverie.

"That's the fever talking," I said with a hoarse little laugh. "Shush."

"No. I see you being put through ten types of shite, pushed places no one should have to go, and in the middle of it all you shine. A rose in a storm. That's what I thought when I met you ... a rose in a storm, whipped around by wind and rain. Strong and beautiful, and loyal. Too loyal. Does he even know how hard this is, what he's asking of you? Does he care?"

"Don't." My cheeks were burning now. "Don't talk about him, please."

"Okay. I don't want to talk about him. Let me talk about you. You don't have to do this, Milja. You don't have to carry this burden. The end of the world is not your responsibility, one way or the other. Walk away. Be happy."

Oh, he would break my heart.

"Egan ... please ..."              

"I want you to be happy. I want things I've no right to want. When I hold you, oh Christ. The temptation. I can't ... it's so hard not to want those things."

He lifted his good hand and grabbed mine, his grip shockingly strong. I'd presumed him weak. Startled, I met his gaze. It was wider than natural, almost glassy. My heart was banging against my breastbone. I tried to form words but couldn't bring them to life.

"Your lips now. I think of your lips under mine. I think of your body under my lips. I want to fuck you Milja, that's the truth, because I'm a piece-of-shit sinner and that's how my love feels, all wrapped up my lust and what I need - and I'm sorry, I can't stop thinking about you. About how much I want you."

"Oh God."

 "Do you think about me?"

I'd never realised before that blue is the colour of pain. I thought I might be trapped by those terrible blue eyes forever, drowning in his anguish and mine. "Yes," I breathed, the admission nearly breaking me.  

"This?" He pulled my hand down lower, over the sheet, pressed it down firmly against the cotton. Every muscle in my arm contracted in shock - but he did not let me pull away. He held me there, and so I looked. The thin sheet was soaked and plastered against his body, hiding nothing. Not the thick ridge of his erection trapped between my hand and his hard stomach, not even the subtle twin plum-shaped swells of his balls.

Oh. Oh oh oh.

He burned against my palm, a feverish wedge of need trying to push open the doors of possibility. "Please," he groaned, tightening his fingers around mine to squeeze his shaft and rub up and down.

 "Egan..."

"Please Milja." His hips twisted. "Oh God please." Sweat speckled his upper lip anew. The ache in my core rose like a heat plume to meet the ache in my heart.

He's beautiful, I thought, and simultaneously; This is so wrong. I dropped the towel and reached in with my left hand, grabbing his little finger and pushing it back to break his grip and peel it away from me. I pushed his good hand back up onto the pillow, leaning in to pin it with my weight. He didn't have any leverage to resist me.

My breath caught in my throat.

Poor poor Egan. Aching and desperate and helpless. Pinned on his back while his swollen cock raged and wept for release. Just like Azazel had been before I freed him.

After all these years, the darkness beneath the mountain was still there inside me. I had him at my mercy, and that mercy ran slick and hot through me until it escaped down the inside of my thighs.

My hand hadn't moved from his cock.  I squeezed him again.

"Ah Jesus, yes," he cried. Egan never blasphemed.

You need this? You need this? I wanted to bite his parted lips until they broke again and bled, and if I'd had the reach I might have. I can make no excuses for what I felt, or what I did. There was a dark tide of lust rising in me - and even though yes, I could explain, it makes no difference to my guilt. I felt bad for him, yes. He was handsome and sweet and he loved me, yes. No difference.

I loved him, in a way I couldn't even bring myself to think about.

No difference.

The fact is, he was hurt and he was helpless and that made me want to fuck him right now.

 And that's why I didn't let go of his thick cock. I kept hold of it through the cotton and I rubbed it even harder and thicker, until his heels dug into the mattress and his hips danced. I worked him slow and hard and pitilessly, until, his head was thrown back and his throat distended with strain and the blood ran down his chin from his split lip, until he was gasping and rigid and begging incoherently.

Until he came, under the sheet, calling on his saints and his God.

I drank in every cry, every detail. I kissed his bloody lips and lay beside him, cradling his head to my pounding heart.

And only then did I come out of my trance.

"Destiny" by Dali and Disney

There's a short animation doing the rounds that is supposedly a long-lost collaboration between Salvador Dali and Walt Disney studios.
This genuinely took my breath away. It's surreal and romantic and full of really creepy details. I'm not sold on the soundtrack but I love the film.

I can't confirm the provenance, which some doubt, but here's the Spanglish (?) explanation from Youtube:

The film tells the story of Chronos, the personification of time and the inability to realize his desire to love for a mortal. The scenes blend a series of surreal paintings of Dali with dancing and metamorphosis. The target production began in 1945, 58 years before its completion and was a collaboration between Walt Disney and the Spanish surrealist painter, Salvador Dalí. Salvador Dali and Walt Disney Destiny was produced by Dali and John Hench for 8 months between 1945 and 1946. Dali, at the time, Hench described as a "ghostly figure" who knew better than Dali or the secrets of the Disney film. For some time, the project remained a secret. The work of painter Salvador Dali was to prepare a six-minute sequence combining animation with live dancers and special effects for a movie in the same format of "Fantasia." Dali in the studio working on The Disney characters are fighting against time, the giant sundial that emerges from the great stone face of Jupiter and that determines the fate of all human novels. Dalí and Hench were creating a new animation technique, the cinematic equivalent of "paranoid critique" of Dali. Method inspired by the work of Freud on the subconscious and the inclusion of hidden and double images.  Dalí said: "Entertainment highlights the art, its possibilities are endless." The plot of the film was described by. Dalí as "A magical display of the problem of life in the labyrinth of time."  Walt Disney said it was "A simple story about a young girl in search of true love."

Movie muses

Recently on Facebook I joined in posting a list of my twelve favourite movies of all time - specifically, the ones I can happily watch again and again and again.

Here's my list, in release order - along with instances where these movies have influenced my writing.

Jason and the Argonauts (1963)
I could watch the scene where the bronze giant Talos comes to life and chases everyone every day for the rest of my life and never get bored!
Okay, so I've written loads of swords-n-sandals Greek-inspired stories - but in particular The Red Thread in Dark Enchantment is just steeped in the Jason / Medea bad romance.



Time Bandits (1981)
That Agamemnon sequence with Sean Connery? Take a look at my novel Divine Torment. Scorching sun, nasty court politics, guys in short tunics, and a cynic's view of the gods.

The saddest minotaur ever :-(
Aliens (1986)
Directly inspired my SF-gangbang story The Military Mind, in Fierce Enchantments
 

Labyrinth (1986)
There are shades of Jareth the Goblin King in my creepy Dom fey The Brennnan, in

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)
 
Falling Down (1993)
A masterclass in dramatic escalation, mixed motives and messing with the viewer's empathy.

Jurassic Park (1993)

The Prophecy (1995)
No escaping it, a HUGE influence on Cover Him With Darkness, and its sequels yet to come. I have to stop Uriel channeling Christopher Walken every time he appears! :-D 


Also, Satan Evita (1996)
The scene with Antionio Banderas dancing joyously in the fountain is 45 seconds of pure sexuality for me - and an interesting contrast with Che's normal surly and angry demeanor that actually taught me something about writing alphas.






Deep Rising (1998)

The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

Aragorn. All that repressed anger. SAY NO MORE.



300 (2006)

Oh good grief ... Gerard Butler,  Lena Hedey, balletic ultra-violence, heartbreaking sacrifice, ripped and sweaty warriors in tiny leather pants.... This movie was made for Ashbless the writer ;-)

This poster is on my kitchen wall

BTW, here's a list of twelve seminal movies I've NEVER ACTUALLY SEEN, and which have therefore no influence on my romantic or erotic imagination:

Grease
Dirty Dancing
Sleepless in Seattle
Gone with the Wind
When Harry met Sally
Casablanca
Love Story
The Notebook
Annie Hall 
The Fault in Our Stars
Amelie
Pretty Woman

It might explain some things.

How it b-Egan

Some research notes for Egan's backstory
Over the last two days I've written 5000 words for The Valleys of the Earth , which is incredibly productive for me. It's involved a lot of research, and not actually getting dressed until dark.

I've changed a major character's nameI've got my protagonist out of her Ethiopian imprisonment without stretching credulity too muchI've had to decide on a getaway airplane, and I'm settling on the Beechcraft King Air turboprop ... for reasons of size and seating layout. You have no idea how hard it is to stage a private face-to-face discussion on a plane.I've introduced demons to my world - demons, not fallen angels.
And I've finally got Milja and Egan back together and talking. And a great big chunk of that has been uncovering Egan's dodgey background in Special Ops, and how he came to work for secretive agency Vidimus (Latin for "We Have Seen"). It all gets a bit gory and shooty and sad. I had to do this for F Leonora Solomon because she squeeeeeeed all over Egan in Cover Him with Darkness and I rashly promised her more revelations :-)

Google is pretty good for Irish background, with special reference to Republican vigilantismI still have to research a bunch of military details ... I foresee a few afternoons with my Delta Green supplements, because RPG rulebooks are actually really useful for this sort of stuff. DG is written by almost entirely by military/gun nerds as far as I can see.Oh yeah. It turns out Egan has had a major revelation/change of plan all on his own, which rather took me by surprise when he announced it mid-conversation. Bloody characters! I actually sat there with my mouth open, staring at the screen, and said, "Well, well. Really?!"  Still, I'm willing to run with it... let's see where it goes!