Jyvur Entropy's Blog, page 32

‘Stop’: A Poem

Stop

There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me.

I want to be ignored. I want to be ignored. I want to be ignored.

I want.

to be.

ignored.

That is what I want.

No updates. No archives. No footprints.

Go away. Go away. Take me out of it. Go away.

I’m not a big part of anyone’s life. There is no reason to acknowledge me.

So stop.

So stop.

I’m the loser here.

I’m not worth anything. I know.

I was ridiculous to ever hope. I know.

So stop.

It would be the greatest kindness. Stop. Ignore me.

Please?

There’s nothing to calmly tell me. I know.

So go now.

Stop leaving footprints for me to find. It’s cruel.

Is this cruelty for an ego boost?

I was really that far off in my judgment….Thinking I’d found this pinnacle of greatness. Did I really just find such common cruelty? Leaving footprints to laugh at how it sets me off….I can’t believe that, but don’t know what else to think.

Take me out of it. When it Kills I.

Go. Please. Go.

I’m not a big part of anyone’s life, there is nothing of interest here, and there is no reason to acknowledge me.

I understand.

There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me. There is no reason to acknowledge me.

I am nobody. I am nothing. I am obnoxious, detestable, ugly, obsessive, and self-absorbed. How public like a frog….but there’s nothing to don’t-tell. How dreary to be….

Nobody in the world should ever acknowledge me.

There is no reason to acknowledge me.

Stop kicking me. Stop.

I’m down.

I probably deserve it.

There is no reason to acknowledge me.

So don’t.

Another Excerpt from my Role Reversal Time Travel Romance

Ingrid ran her lip across her teeth. She pulled her lips in tight so that she could feel the sharp edges of her lower teeth as she moved her lips left and right.

She shouldn’t have held his wrists down like that. She should have learned her lesson the last time she’d tried this. Her first long-term boyfriend, Joe, he’d been so angry at her when she’d tried that on him. She’d climbed on top of him, and as she always was, felt a thrill looking down at him. It always aroused her to sit on top of a man. Men were so much bigger and stronger. They held most of the power in the world. Anytime a man allowed her to take over in the bedroom, she reveled in it. Joe had been a decently-sized guy. He could overpower if he wanted to. So when he laid beneath her, looking so vulnerable, it excited her. Many times she’d fought back the urge to hold him down by his wrists. She didn’t know what her issue was. She didn’t know why she was like it. All she knew was that she wanted him to want to give his power over to her. She wanted him to allow her to take charge. Pinning his wrists was symbolic. He could flip her off of him at any point he wanted to. Yeah…Joe hadn’t liked being held down by her.

Cole had liked it though, really liked it. She bit back a smile and ran her fingers through the clean hay beneath her. She didn’t think she’d ever made a guy jizz in his pants before. She hadn’t even touched him. But then, the moment he’d exploded his excitement had turned to shame. He hadn’t even been able to look at her. Men had such fragile egos. It pained her to think that she’d damaged Cole’s.

She wouldn’t mention what had happened to him. She’d let him take the lead here. If he wanted to talk about it, he’d have to bring it up. And in the meantime, she’d do everything she could to build up his confidence, make him feel big, tough, manly. She’d been so stupid to try holding his wrists down. She hadn’t been thinking, only reacting. She’d never been so attracted to someone.  

Ingrid curled up on her side, fluffing up a pile of hay for a pillow. Her family would go crazy to see her like this. They’d been horrified beyond belief the time she’d used Air BnB during a trip with friends. Now she was sleeping in a barn. She didn’t mind it all that much. The smell of chicken and goat shit wasn’t ideal but at least they had this clean little area to rest their heads. The hay was soft and comfortable. And Cole would be sleeping beside her. Hopefully. She wondered if she ought to go check on him.

She stood and blew out the candles, and then settled back down into the hay. She decided to give Cole some space. He became very agitated when embarrassed. If only he didn’t get embarrassed so easily. There had to be a way to help him feel more at ease.

She pulled off her sandals and tossed them into a corner. She gave her left foot a deep rub, pushing into the arch. Both of her feet ached from walking so many miles in platform shoes. She winced, trailing her thumb over one of the many blisters that covered her feet. This one had been caused by the strap of leather that traversed the top of her foot. The friction of leather over skin again and again had rubbed the blister raw. She wiped away the blood that circled the area.  

“What’s wrong with your foot?”

Ingrid’s head snapped up to see Cole staring down at her. Even though the darkness, she could see the concern on his face. He’d changed. He now wore a tunic and britches that she supposed he must have borrowed from Forest. He was closer in body type to Cole than Mat and Gil. In his hands, he held a wool blanket, which he dropped to the ground, along with his dirty clothes.

“Nothing happened. “Blisters. I’ll be okay.”

“You need better shoes,” he murmured. He sat beside her and held his hands out.

She stared at him in confusion.

“Healing powers?” he muttered. “I can fix them.”

She nodded and extended her leg, placing her foot in his hand. “I wasn’t being weird this time,” she explained. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“It’s cool,” he stated. “I’m not gonna be a freak. I’m only healing you.”

He ran his hand over her sore feet. She gasped as a warming, fizzling sensation filled her flesh.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Yeah. That feels nice. Like the best foot massage ever.”

“Cool…” He stared down at her left foot, moving his hands over it in slow circles.

“Sorry for being weird,” Cole blurted. His eyes flicked up to hers for only a second. The moment their eyes met, his darted fearfully back down to her feet.

“I’m the one who should say sorry,” Ingrid said softly. “I didn’t even ask you if I could do that.”

He shook his head, still staring at her foot.

“I was…okay with it,” he said blankly.

“And you’re embarrassed of it?” she pressed.

“I..I don’t know how to talk about any of this stuff. You’re cool and I’m gonna scare you off. Look, I have some…some degenerate sex kinks. But I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin, I promise I’m fine with whatever you’re okay with doing.”

“What kind of degenerate stuff?”

His hands slid off her foot and he gestured for the other. Ingrid slid it into his lap. He went to work with his new healing powers.

“I can’t talk about this,” he sighed. “You tell me what you’re into.”

Ingrid shifted her lips back and forth. “You really want to talk about this? You want to hear?”

“See. You can’t talk about it either.”

“Sure I can. Okay, here goes.”

“Yep. I’m waiting.”

“I really like being fingered.”

Cole shut his eyes. His nostril’s flared out. He continued moving his hands over her foot, only all of the blisters had already been healed.

“I like giving blow jobs.”

Cole coughed and made a spluttering sort of noise, his hands tightening on Ingrid’s foot.

She smiled. “I like when guys let me be on top. When I get to be the one in control of everything happening.”

“Uh-huh,” he said breathlessly. “Yep. Yep. Cool.”

“I’ve…always wanted to pin a guy down by his wrists and just…”

“Just what?” His voice was a notch higher than usual.

“Just ravish him. I’m weird. It’s like in sex scenes in movies and books, the guy always like grabs the woman and devours her, runs his hands all over her body, and she’s just all weak and swooning. I like that….but…”

“But…yep..okay…cool.”

She smiled, watching him nervously tug at the ends of his hair. She’d affected him so much he could hardly string a sentence together.

“But I want to do the part the guy normally does.”

He nodded quickly. His head bobbed up and down. “Cool..Cool..”

“Cole, can you look at me?”

He looked at her, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

“Do you like all of that too?” she whispered

Cole dropped her foot and pushed his hair out of face. “Maybe.”

“Yeah?”

“But I don’t want to like it.”

“Because it’s not manly?”

“You don’t get it,” he muttered. “Girls never get it.”

“Women. I’m a woman, not a girl.”

“Sorry…yeah, women don’t get it. Guys have to be all brave and hard and macho all the time. I’m not like that and it makes me feel like I’m busted or something. I’m defective.”

“I guess I can see that.”

“You know you said a whole lotta shit about how hard the female experience is. “

Ingrid cringed inwardly.

“It’s like,” Cole continued, ” you think the male experience isn’t fuckin’ hard too. I know women have it tough. But it’s like, I’m a dude who wants to feel like I’m…” He waved a hand in the air, spinning it around in circles as he searched for the word. “Enough,” he said finally. “I want to feel like I’m enough. I’m not even that feminine. I’m just not a fuckin’ alpha-male warrior dude. Can you think how hard it’d be to have to live up to all that shit?”

Ingrid let his words soak in. “That makes sense,” she said quietly.

“Right. It’s like, even if everything you’re saying is really hot, it’s hard to actually do all of that. Because I feel like an asshole for having those kinds of…urges.”

“I get that. Maybe we should lay off the physical stuff for a minute anyway.”

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah. That sounds good. We’re gettin’ too carried away is all.”

“Okay.”

“Here, I brought us a blanket,” Cole muttered, “and I brought one of Gil’s medieval shirts. In case you were tired of sleeping in your jeans.”

“You’re sweet. Thanks.”

She took the tunic from his hands. He turned to face the wall. “Tell me when you’re done.”

“Okay.”

She changed hurriedly and folded her clothes up into a neat pile. 

“All done, Cole.”

He turned back around. She didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over her now bare legs. The tunic barely reached mid-thigh on her.

“Give me your clothes,” she said reaching towards him. “I’ll fold them up with mine.”

He snatched his jeans in a panicked, almost protective, way. “They’re dirty.”

“I know that. I’m not bothered.”

“Nope. I don’t want you to touch them.”

“Okay,” she sighed. She placed her own clothes up on the window ledge, moving the candles off to one side.

Cole hopped to his feet and rolled his jeans up inside of his sweatshirt.

Ingrid almost made a joke about his sweatshirt being dirty now too, but she thought better of it. She’d been around him long enough to notice some of his more obvious patterns. When something embarrassed him, the best thing to do was leave it alone.

He shoved his wadded up ball of clothes onto the stone ledge and then settled back down into the hay. “I’m exhausted, Ing,” he sighed. “Ready to hit the…oh man..” he trailed off, chuckling.

She plunked down beside him and poked him in the side. “Hit the hay? Is that what you were going to say?”

He laughed again, a low, musical sound that ended in an involuntary snort.

She started cracking up. “This is a wild situation.”

“The wildest.”

She lay down beside him, fluffing up a pile of hay for a pillow.

He slid down to the floor as well, until their eyes met. Ingrid smiled. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and returned the gesture with a hesitant grin of his own.

They laid there for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. His brown eyes sparkled behind the thick lenses of his glasses.

She reached out and slid them from his face. “There you go. You can’t sleep with those on.”

She hopped up again to place the glasses up on the window ledge. When she returned to her place beside Cole, she chose a new position, this time laying with her back facing him.

“Want some blanket?” he asked.

“I’m not that cold. I’ll only use it if you want to share it with me.”

“Okay.”

He threw an edge of the blanket over her, and then, in a way that Ingrid found so absolutely charming, so heart-wrenchingly endearing, he reached over her to tuck the blanket around her.

She smiled softly and let him do it.

And then he joined her beneath the blanket, at first leaving several inches between them, but within moments, he’d crept closer, trying to close the space between them. Ingrid didn’t move at first. She wanted to see what he’d do.

He came closer to her. She felt movement of the blanket. She felt his fingertips lightly brush her side. But then his hand snapped back. He’d lost his courage. She let him continue this dance of anxiety and courage for a few more rounds.

“Cole?” she said finally.

“Uh, yeah…yep…What’s up?”

“Do you want to cuddle?”

“Um, yeah.”

“I can tell. Why are you so nervous to put your arm around me?”

He didn’t say anything, although she felt another movement under the blanket, his arm hovering behind her again.

“Oh my gosh, Cole!” She twisted to give him an exasperated grin.

“Sorry, I’m-“

“Oh, Cole!” she cried. She pushed up from the floor and grabbed his shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. “What are you doing, you sweet man! I’m laying next to you wearing almost nothing, telling you all about my sex fantasies.”

His mouth twitched. He looked up at her with a smile that lit his dark brown eyes up.

“You really think I’m going to tell you not to touch me?” she pressed.

“I don’t..ah..”

“Stop it, you sweet nervous man!” She giggled and kissed his forehead. “Stop it! Stop it! I like you!” She shook his shoulders and covered his face with kisses.

He laughed and tried to cover his face. “I got it, Ing.”

“You silly man, I like you! Stop being nervous!” She kissed his forehead, his nose, his cheeks.

He laughed and pushed her away. “I heard you. Stop killing me,” he chuckled.

“No, I need to kill you some more.”

She pulled him into her arms and laid back down, this time with him cuddled up against her. She felt his body tense and then, all at once, he relaxed. “This is what you wanted?”

“Yep.”

She kissed his hair and ran her nails lightly up and down his back. He cuddled into her neck and rested his hand against her stomach. She reveled in the heat of him, the earthy, masculine smell of him.

His breathing deepened, until it became snoring.She rubbed his shoulders and smiled softly.

He’d fallen asleep in her arms. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m currently working on revisions for this story, so in the mood to share the chapters I’m most proud of.

If you want to read the full story, it’s currently on wattpad, complete and totally free.

Later this year, I’ll be publishing on amazon, Lulu, Barnes and Noble, and most other online book retailers (like I did with Combustion). But first I have to iron out some of the plot holes and work on the characters a tad bit more.

An Excerpt from my Gentle Femdom Time Travel Romance <3

She closed her eyes, reveling in the tide of sensations she was swimming in. “Cole?” she breathed. “You okay?”

“Um, yeah. Sorry.” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke.

She opened her eyes.

He still faced away from her. Hunched over slightly, he seemed to be looking down at something between his legs.

She furrowed her brow. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” she asked gently. She reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

He jerked away, and ran a hand through the back of his damp hair. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m ruinin’ this.”

“No!” she cried. “You’re not ruining anything. Cole, that was the nicest kiss I’ve ever had.”

“The nicest?” he scoffed.

“Yes, and I want you to kiss me again so much. It…it sounds like you want to. Don’t you?”

“I’m really ruining it.”

“Why do you think that?”

He turned back around, but didn’t meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to kiss me again,” she whispered, cupping his chin in her hands. “But I want you to know that I liked that so much, and if you ever want to do it again-“

“Yes.” His eyes flickered nervously up to meet hers.

“Yeah?” she laughed.

He nodded. “Yep. Let’s do it….Sorry if I suck at this.”

She wrapped a hand around his neck and leaned in closer. She slid between his legs, pushing her belly to his.

“You don’t suck at..oh!” She inhaled sharply, as something hard poked her in the lower stomach.

Cole clenched his eyes shut and started to pull back.

“Don’t! Please, Cole. It’s okay. That’s totally normal.”

She felt like she was talking to a frightened animal. He remained tense, with his eyes closed, but didn’t move to pull away again.

“Is that what you’re so embarrassed about?”

“Sorry,” he said again. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Never kissed?“

He opened his eyes then, the beginnings of irritation now chasing the shame out of his eyes. “Yeah, so what?” he snapped.

She hurried to reassure him. “Nothing. It’s fine. Please tell me to kiss you again.”

She came closer, covering his body with hers. His eyes widened, but he moved with her, until he was laying flat on the ground and she was on top of him. His erection still poked her stomach.

She stroked his hair and looked down into his eyes. Deep brown, fogging up behind his thick glasses. She reached down and plucked them from his face.

“There you go,” she sighed.

“Ing….“

“You don’t have to be embarrassed of that. I like that so much. I like that you’re enjoying this. I want you to enjoy this, Cole.”

He shut his eyes, mouth quivering with what Ingrid hoped was excitement. “Fuck.“

His fingertips grazed her hips, ever so lightly, like he was working up the nerve to grab hold of her more firmly.

“Yes, Cole. Put your hands on me.”

He looked directly into her eyes then. She rose and fell in time to the heaving of his chest.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

“You’re so handsome.”

His hands came down on either side of her hips. Her skin fizzled under his touch.

She lowered herself over him. Her hair, now completely undone of the braid, fell down around his face. She pressed her breasts into his chest. He made a noise, seemingly involuntarily, something between a groan and a whimper.

She moved until her lips were poised just above his, so closely their skin almost touched, but not quite.

“Tell me to kiss you,” she whispered.

She felt the breath from his mouth on hers and it drove her wild.

“Kiss me,” he panted.

She stroked his hair. She moved her hip ever so slightly, rocking against his erection. He groaned again.

She planted her lips on his, and this time, she didn’t move with such vigor, such need. She moved with tenderness. She kissed him softly, sweetly. His hands tightened on her waist. Pushing her mouth into his, she luxuriated in the feel of him, the taste of him. She trailed her hand up his neck and took hold of his hair with her other hand.

She pulled back from him, still stroking his thick locks with both hands. “I love this hair,” she purred.

He stared up at her wide-eyed.

She leaned down one last time and planted a soft kiss on his mouth.

“You’re such a good kisser, Cole.”

“T-Thanks,” he stammered. “I liked that.”

“I liked it too.”

She slid off his body and hurried to fix her hair.

Cole cleared his throat and sat up. “That was okay?” he asked.

“Yes, that was really nice.”

“I didn’t do it wrong?”

She shook her head and furrowed her brow. Cole stared at her expectantly, a frown tugging at his mouth. It was like he expected her to reject him. Sadness welled up in her.

“I liked that fine. You….” She threw her hands up, trying to figure out how to explain her thoughts. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” she sighed, handing his glasses back to him. “It means I like you. I wanted to kiss you, however you kiss. I liked that, because I was kissing you.”

His face fell blank, and then the corners of his mouth tugged up in a smile. He scratched the back of his neck and looked down at his lap. “I didn’t ruin it by getting an…uh…you know..”

Ingrid laughed. “Are you kidding? That made it better.”

He flushed a deep shade of red. “Yeah?”

She grinned and leaned in again, moving to kiss him one last time, but he was too quick for her. He sent his lips crashing into hers.

She kissed him hungrily, again and again, and each time they parted, she could only manage a single word; “Cole.”

They kissed and she whimpered his name, until the first light of morning streaked the sky. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

You can read the full novel on wattpad.

“I Hate Incels”: Okay, But Are You Ideologically Consistent?

I was going to try and stop writing about incels. But I guess I’m the incel lady for all of time. Look, I just can’t with the logic of the anti-incels. Mostly because it isn’t ideologically consistent at all. Let me show you.

Photo by Pavel Danilyuk on Pexels.com

“Incels are bad people. There were four of them that committed acts of violence.”

So the logic here is that if even an absolutely minuscule amount of people from a group commit an act of violence, and that act of violence is related to being a part of that group (in this case “girls won’t fuck me and that’s why I’m doing this”) then ALL people in that group are bad.

If that is your line of logic, then you must also be terribly Islamophobic.

Of course, I do not want people to be Islamophobic.

I’m just pointing out, that line of logic should either be applied consistently or not at all.

If you are not ideologically consistent, then you do not have intellectual integrity, and this greatly weakens every argument you ever make.

Let me give you another example, the Columbine killers loved the video game ‘Doom.’ They wrote in their journals that they wanted the massacre to be like ‘Doom.’ Following the if-violent-people-are-part-of-this-group-it-follows-that-all-people-from-this-group-are-bad logic, you have now become a conservative pundit from 1999. Congratulations. If you are ideologically consistent and have intellectual integrity, then you apply your logic consistently, and obviously believe that people commit mass shootings because of video games.

Four guys out of thousands of people, many of them women, committed acts of violence. The media hyped this up because it’s the most exciting narrative.

If the media had done this to Muslims, would you believe all Muslims are bad people? That’s the question I have for the anti-incels. Do you take the time to get to know people before you judge? Because most of the anti-incels I come across have admitted they’ve never knowingly spoken to an incel.

I’ve met incels I adored. I’ve met incels I couldn’t fucking stand. It’s no different than any other group of people.

Stop blindly following the commonly accepted opinions and start thinking for yourself.

And when you aren’t ideologically consistent, I can absolutely tell that you aren’t doing that.

Photo by Ivan Bertolazzi on Pexels.com

Now, if anyone had statistical evidence showing that incels are more violent than any other random sampling of the population, that would be a strong argument. But nobody has that, because it isn’t there, because only four fucking dudes have ever done anything violent and been linked (falsely in some cases) to incels.

The blanket “these few people were incels and they did bad things” argument is a poor one, especially since that logic is ONLY applied to incels. Not to Muslims. Not to women (who are more likely than men to abuse/murder their children). Not to anyone. Except incels.

It’s because the narrative is convenient and sensationalist.

Photo by Maryia Plashchynskaya on Pexels.com

Okay, I’m Sold: Amish Romance is My Favorite Clean Subgenre

Before picking up ‘Rebekah’s Quilt’, I’d never read any Amish romance, but I’d certainly heard enough about it. And I don’t think the target audience is actual Amish people. I mean, not unless every single Amish person spends their rumspringa reading about being Amish and falling in love, but I doubt that’s the case. With entire facebook groups and goodreads groups dedicated to this clean and wholesome romance subgenre, it’s clear that (as the Amish would say) the English are the ones devouring these fluffy little books.

Why? That was my question going into this. Why would non-Amish people want to read Amish romance? And why is Amish romance quickly becoming one of the most popular clean romance subgenres?

There’s obviously an appeal, and I was so curious to figure out what that appeal is, that when I saw an Amish romance series on the roster for Silver Dagger Book Tours, I snapped up the chance to grab some arcs right away.

I was determined to figure out why people love to read about a religious group that isolates itself from the modern world, a group where the process of falling in love is so entirely different than it is for us non-barn-raising normies.

Sara Harris has several Amish romance books, but the two currently on tour with Silver Dagger are in the ‘Rebekah’s Keepsakes’ series. I wasn’t sure how much time I’d have with the holidays (no idea why I thought that-I went nowhere, did nothing, saw nobody) so I only signed up to review the first book ‘Rebekah’s Quilt.’

Rebekah’s Quilt 

Rebekah’s Keepsakes Series Book 1 

Who can Rebekah trust when the line between English and Amish becomes blurred?

An Amish Settlement. An English stranger. The Blizzard of 1888.

Rebekah’s mother, Elnora Stoll, is the finest quilter in all of Gasthof Village but it seems Rebekah has inherited none of her skill. A sweet and gentle love blossoms between Rebekah Stoll and her childhood friend Joseph Graber, despite attempts by her saucy nemesis, Katie Knepp, to sway the young man’s affections her way. When Joseph hints at the promise of forever, Rebekah is positive she should say yes to his proposal – until a mysterious English stranger shows up at her homestead and sets everything she thought she knew about her world on end. 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46005534-rebekah-s-quilt 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Rebekahs-Quilt-Keepsakes-Book-ebook/dp/B07RP2RPDV 

~~

WWW Weds: Cozy Mysteries, Sweet Romance, and (per my usual) Femdom Smut *insert my creepiest face here*

Last WWW Weds of the year! I’m so ready for this year to be over.

2021 will be the year that I don’t try to blow my life up for basically no reason because I’m a crazy bitch.

Hopefully. We can only hope. And also probably try to get medicated again and stop watching the Columbine CCTV footage. I can’t help that I’m mentally ill, but I’m definitely to blame for how often I let myself fixate on stuff that I know is gonna make me worse. I do it because I have poor impulse control. That’s not part of the mental illness, it’s an unrelated character flaw.

Anyway, I think 2021 will probably be better. I’m not sure how it could be worse to be honest. So…

Anyway, let’s play WWW Weds one last time for this cursed year.

This is a weekly meme hosted by Sam at Taking on a World of Words.

It’s just three simple questions.

What Are you Currently Reading?

What Did You Recently Finish Reading?

What Do You Think You will Read Next?

This meme gives all of us in the book community a chance to catch up with each other and share our recent and upcoming reads.

What Am I Currently Reading?

I’m still working my way through this arc provided by Prism Book Tours. It’s a cozy mystery with a very fun Egyptian/archeological theme. It’s actually funny, and while a lot of cozy books attempt humor, very few pull it off successfully. The fact that this book actually makes me chuckle sets it apart from others in the genre.

My only criticism so far is the casual misandry. There’s a creepy nerd character who has to be put in his place by the main character. She even has the cringe-inducing line “You aren’t getting the goods.” *vomit* What real human female says that?

So, here’s the rub. I googled the author.

With the main character referring to sex as “getting the goods” and calling the Y-chromosome “defective,” my guess is this man thought making his female protagonist toss around some casual misandry would make her more realistic and make the female voice more authentic, and what I have to say to that is…

Actually…..

You see, the egalitarians give a shit about men if the men have a victim chip…..but yeah, normalize violence against white, cis, straight, abled men. That’s cool [image error]

I’m not even sure how to feel about the casual misandry in the book upon reflection. It actually makes sense that a man trying to capture the female voice would have their character take digs at men, treat male sexuality as creepy/predatory and the female body as some prize to be granted to men who earn it (THAT is feminism and it is why I’m not a feminist).

So…yeah. This man didn’t really do anything wrong with this character. I hate it, but the casual misandry is realistic and is true to the modern female voice.

I’m still reading the Unicult book. I still haven’t been given any super secret fun cult stuff. Criminey, I paid my $11 and I used stamps!

Eh…it’s fine. I haven’t been welcomed into the cult’s inner circle and I have no cult tea to spill, but honestly, I became bored with this whole venture so quickly after starting this book. There is nothing in here that is any different than any other self-help book. Believe in yourself! Manifest your reality! Follow your dreams! Ack! You’d think a group that actively markets itself as a cult would be at least slightly more interesting than Tony Robbins.

Everyone do yourselves a favor and skip all the self-help bullshit. Just buy yourself a Lisa Frank poster and call it a day.

Lastly, I’m currently beta reading a manuscript for Pixie Stormcrow. It’s a gentle femdom romance and it’s not available on her website yet. I got that insider hookup

Girl vs Boy Toys of the 80s and 90s

Girl vs Bot Toys of the 80s and 90s

A Good Historical Romance Makes You FEEL the Historical Period with Every Scene…

And that’s exactly what Iris Trovao (otherwise known as Emily Hurricane) does in the first installment of her Lazarus Town novella series.

She’s a grouchy loner. He’s a hardworking traveler. Fate, it seems, has a sense of humour.

When a mysterious traveller turns up at Lilian’s doorstep, she thinks that he’s just another person trying to take something from her. It turns out Davien has a lot to give.

But as he gets more and more enmeshed in the danger that surrounds her, the fear that something horrible will happen to him becomes more real. With the Sheriff breathing down her neck, wild gangs attacking, and the looming ghost of her father ripe in her memories, Lilian knows that her life is no place for anyone she cares about.

Now that she’s had a taste of happiness, she has to choose between selfishness or giving up the ones she loves forever.

Today I sat down and read book one ‘Shotgun Cowgirl.’ This is a book I’ve been meaning to read for ages, and wow! I mean, I always have the problem of too many books on my TBR, but I really should have prioritized this one. I read the whole thing in one sitting. It’s a novella, so it is on the shorter side-clocking in at just over a hundred pages-but still, I sat down and read it all without so much as a bathroom break.

This is an action-packed, yet sweet, Western romance. The setting plays such a huge part of the story. A great historical romance will make you FEEL the setting, and in a historical fiction-setting is a combination of both place and time. ‘Shotgun Cowgirl’ executes this perfectly. We feel the setting in every single scene. Trovao uses every tool at her disposal to convey the Western setting; dialogue, descriptions, backstory, etc. We have violent gangs, a corrupt sheriff, and an outsider with a rough past (Lillian); it’s everything you want in a classic tropey Western.

But while this novella pays homage to the classics Westerns, there’s a modern much-needed twist. We get a badass female hero wielding a sawed -off shotgun. Damsel in distress? No way. It’s not like everything is handed right to Lillian. She has challenges to overcome. She’s just so damn good at holding her own. And she doesn’t need to be saved. She does the saving. Gah! My heart! I love the dude in distress trope. I love it when a woman charges into danger to save the man she cares about

Lillian is a very gruff and curmudgeonly main character, but you can tell that for all her swearing and keeping people at arm’s length, she really does have a good heart under there. She feels guilty for the few tenuous relationships she does have, because she knows that anybody who comes near her is in danger. For a novella, her character was incredibly complex and nuanced. She’s also hella fierce and stubborn.

The ending was sweet and hopeful. It definitely left some loose ends that need to be tied up in book two. A book that I plan to dig into very shortly!

This sweet (yet bloody and violent) Western romance was entertaining, full of redemption, and exactly what I needed this Christmas Day.

Amazon | Goodreads | Facebook | Author Website | Tik Tok | Instagram | Wattpad | Twitter

Okay, now enjoy this hilarious Tik Tok that she roped a real life man into making to promote her books XD I’m here for it.

@eshurricane

Shotgun Cowgirl on #Amazon #Kindle here: http://hyperurl.co/2m4oto #booktok #authorsoftiktok #western #romance #absfordays

♬ Yummy – SINCERELYADHD

Dark Erotica with a Dash of Paranormal: ‘Bondage Slave For Hire’ by Laura Tolomei

Just because you are a bondage slave for hire, do you deserve to die on Halloween night?

Whether vampires, shape-shifters or demon-switchers, all slaughtered in the most efficient manner. No mercy. No pity.

Nothing satisfies Lilly. Not even working at The Dungeon BDSM Club as a bondage slave for hire. A slave looking for her true master. None have fit the bill so far. Until Terry. He spins her craving to fever pitch. And she might just fall in love with him, if she could only be his slave. Not just his. Julien and André’s, too. His gorgeous Creole lovers. Because they are the perfect Masters. But also keepers of the Black Room. On Halloween, she’ll discover just how bad and dangerous their pain-lust game can really be. Will she be able to fulfill their true needs? Or will she perish in the attempt?

Goodreads * Amazon  

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18679477-bondage-slave-for-hire

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Bondage-Slave-Hire-Laura-Tolomei-ebook/dp/B00G2X3F8I

This book is dark. If you’re looking for something that goes beyond the usual bdsm erotica, this might be exactly up your alley. There are gang bangs, lots of pain play, lots of anal, and in the third act, some activities of the much darker variety. There’s a mysterious room in the club that is only used on Halloween night and this room looms ominously over the entirety of the story, all while the narrative counts down to October 31st.

Giveaway
$10 Amazon
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

https://www.silverdaggertours.com/sdsxx-tours/bondage-slave-for-hire-book-tour-and-giveaway

Italian-born1965, Laura Tolomei lives near Barcelona, Spain, and is the author of 28+ books in her very particular and unique genre—Erotic Romance with an Edge. Her novels include, among others, the critically acclaimed scorching dark fantasy Virtus Saga, all ten books of it, along with the kindred spirits of both the ReScue and the Soulmate Series, not to mention her horror novels as well as a few historical ones. She has released works with such publishers as eXtasy Books, Whiskey Creek Press and Romance Divine LLC. 

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#PMInc will provide a 15% discount for anyone that is referred by or mentions Silver Dagger Book Tours!! 

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Author Links

Website: https://www.lallagatta.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLauraTolomei

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LallaGatta

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lalla.gatta

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/laura-tolomei  

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Laura-Tolomei/e/B002DBFPDQ

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2903352.Laura_Tolomei

“You’re free to go.”

Alone at last with Lilly, Terry spared her no glances. Simply bent on his heels and pretended to be searching for something in his bag.

Not a word escaped her lips. Lilly picked up her purse and took the first step toward the door.

“Of course, if you quit, I won’t take you back, like Kelso did every time you returned crawling and groveling, which means you’ll never find the Master you’ve been seeking all your life.” This time he snatched a brief peek.

The utter shock painted on her face was an incomparable reward.

“And that would be a real pity.” He straightened, finally acknowledging her. “For the Master, I mean.”

“How…” How the fuck can you possibly know? Lilly’s body screamed to him. “How do you know?”

“‘Cause it’s written all over you.” A few quick strides and he was on her. “For anyone bothering to read.” Close enough for his breath to play on her face.

“Most people don’t.” She was gulping air, barely controlling the arousal he felt uncoiling from the pit of her stomach and drenching her cunt.

“I’m not most people.” Same arousal that was shooting through his veins and filling his dick faster than he anticipated. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Same arousal that was forcing him to extreme measures to subdue his unruly shaft.

“You’ve wasted enough of my time.” Were it up to his straining erection, he’d have flung her to a wall and impaled that perky little ass of hers.

“Tonight’s opening night.” Were it up to his straining erection, he’d have lost himself inside that compelling body of hers.

But thank the stars, it wasn’t, or he’d have spoiled the perfect Halloween slave.

“And I’ve got a show to run.” Exercising fiercer control, he broke their contact. “So I gotta get ready for it.” Picking up his bag, he went toward a door to the far right.

“No, wait.” She scrambled after him the second he took the first step away from her. “I…”

Dark and dangerous, this is a book that will appeal to readers who like their bdsm a little more rough and extreme.

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