Y. Correa's Blog, page 10
September 2, 2019
"From Whence Jasmine Blooms" Book Release
TODAY WE CELEBRATE THE RELEASE OF " FROM WHENCE JASMINE BLOOMS " BY C. DESERT ROSE.
BLURB:The Garden of Life does not thrive by concept alone—it takes the right ingredients to fertilize it, so it can rise to its fullest potential.In order to bloom into her fullest life, Jasmine first needs to learn the components of living a fulfilling life. The seven core elements of becoming are divulged to Jasmine in a fashion she would have never conceived.In the coming of age novelette “ From Whence Jasmine Blooms ”, Jasmine will embark on a journey into magic, mystery, and most of all, knowledge.
EXCERPT:Julian had a large smile on his face, his eyes beamed with pride. “I hear that you did well in your last lesson …” “I literally just walked out, so how did you hear that?” “News travels fast here.” “Yeah, I can see that. At any rate, thanks.” Jasmine smiled. Picking out her crumpled schedule from her backpack she looked to see what the next lesson was. Furthermore, it was an unexpected but gratifying thing to notice that she only had three lessons left. Strolling down the hall to the next class Jasmine fully expected another ginormous door with another shiny sign. Ready for the next lesson she trolleyed down the walkway with a mellow swagger that she hadn’t previously had.
Shortly thereafter she and Julian had reached their destination. Only, something was incredibly amiss and suspect. Jasmine quickly found that there was no door or sign here. What there was, was an opening which led to a diving board that was approximately one hundred feet above a small tub of water. Above the opening a glowing red arrow was directly under the word JUMP. Jasmine’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “I am not jumping!” “Oh?” Julian asked in faux shock. “Why not?” “Nope! No. No, no, no, no, no! I can’t even swim! I am not jumping!” “Hmm … do you need a push?” Julian scratched his chin. “Absolutely not! Julian, this is not happening. Period.” “Alright,” Julian said then turned his back to walk away. Before leaving, however, he said one last thing. “Unfortunately, you cannot graduate unless you complete this course. To complete this course you have to jump.” Jasmine conjured up myriad cuss words in her head. None of which were nice. She paced, then stopped, then paced again. This went on for five or so minutes. Jasmine struggled with the having to and the wanting to. She couldn’t tell which one would win. Every so often Jasmine would glance up at the sign.
JUMP … JUMP … JUMP … blink, blink, blink.
Damn it! This is ridiculous!
Jasmine scratched her head, took two deep breaths then taking five steps back and a running start she dove off the board. Jasmine held her breath the whole way down. The only thought in her mind was that she better not die. One-one thousand, two-one thousand and plop.
Both in paperback and eBook format you can get your copy of " From Whence Jasmine Blooms " at Amazon.com. Just click below.
August 29, 2019
C. Desert Rose talks about "From Whence Jasmine Blooms": Blog Tour
I absolutely love a good book release celebration!
So, in commemoration of C. Desert Rose's upcoming release "From Whence Jasmine Blooms." I have had her come visit my blog and talk a little bit about it.
Rose, the floor is all yours.
Thank you, Y.,
Since today marks the beginning of this blog tour as well as the cover reveal, I would like to talk a little bit about how I the idea and premise of "From Whence Jasmine Bloom" came.
One day I woke up with an image stuck in my head—I couldn’t shake it. The picture was vivid and it felt profound to me, as if it were tied to something that was on the cusp of being realized.Some may call it a vision or revelation. Honestly, I’d be pushing the envelope too far if I said that it was divinely inspired, for I can’t say that with certainty. But one thing I can say with absoluteness is that I saw this depiction in my mind’s eye as clear as day.That day I met with my publisher and her representatives and talked a little bit about this image I’d had stuck in my psyche. Immediately the graphic designer put pen to paper and perfectly duplicated the picture I’d seen. It was a flower laying atop a dark surface, but in the background was a transparent, hardly noticeable hourglass.“Rose, what’s it for?” she asked.“I have no idea.” I replied sincerely.The VP interjected. “It’s for a story, obviously.”“What story? I don’t have anything I am working, nothing outlines. Nothing.”“You will.” she retorted assuredly.“Um, okay. I guess.” saving the image I set all these thoughts side and continued on other things that I’d been working on.
Then I had a dream.
The night had fallen and in their quiet neighborhood crickets sang their evening tune. The wetness left behind from the night's prior rain fogged the windows slightly.A pink pegasus with a unicorn horn and a rainbow mane picked her up at the sliding glass door located in the dining room. I already knew why she was there.After a furious fight with my father at that very moment my brother helped calm me whilst sitting at the dining room table. With the corner of my eye I caught sight of the luminescence that alerted me of the pegasus' presence. When I stepped outside I realized that I was not alone."Do you see this?" I asked my brother."Yeah." he responded, simultaneously flabbergasted and stupefied."So this isn't in my head ...?""Nope."The pegasus neighed impatiently. A whimsical woman seated on the pegasus' back extended her hand towards me. "Come. We've got no time to waste. You have a long night ahead of you."In that instance, from an indiscernible distance down glided another pegasus—this one with yellow fur—with two girls on her back.In a state of disbelief I grabbed the angelic lady’s hand and mounted the creature."Come now ladies, prepare yourself for the flight. It may be a bit turbulent."The girls on the second pegasus murmured amongst each other, chattering about the adventure that awaited them all. I said nothing.With a nod of the head, the pegasus beat her front hooves, took a few leaps forward and just as simply ascended into the air.Closely behind was the yellow pegasus.Unmoved, and as if these things were an everyday occurrence, the magical lady spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "Hold on tight!"I gripped the lady's waste as hard as I could.The lady spoke again. "My name is Amelia-Aurora. I was sent to get you. In approximately 50,000 feet you will feel a shift in your vision. You will no longer perceive things as a human. You will instantly obtain angelic vision and see things as we do.""So ..." I gulped. "you are an angel?""Of course. What else would I be?"I nodded. A second later, my vision went blurry, static and then refocused. Then the whole of the world was now painted in a hue that resembled night vision goggles."At this point your vision should have changed."The girls on the second pegasus confirmed. I nodded again. "Ehem ... yeah.""One thousand more feet and we'll traverse The Wall.""'The Wall'?" Asked one of the girls."Yes, the clouds." Just as promised, in a matter of seconds we were floating amongst the clouds. Skillfully, Amelia-Aurora navigated the beast. We traversed The Wall and made it to the Heavenly Gates.
That’s when I woke up.
After several days of discussion with my fellow authors and under the impression that the story could be a contribution to an anthology I began to write it. In the story I supplemented myself for a character called Jasmine and as if by pure instinct the rest of the narrative just came to me. I wrote the entire story in the matter of a week.A few days later the All Authors VP read a portion of the story and said, “There it is. The story that goes with the cover.”She was right.That was when “From Whence Jasmine Blooms” was born—a coming of age story of a girl on a time sensitive adventure to discover her purpose in the world.
COMING TO AMAZONSEPTEMBER 2ND 2019!
So, in commemoration of C. Desert Rose's upcoming release "From Whence Jasmine Blooms." I have had her come visit my blog and talk a little bit about it.
Rose, the floor is all yours.
Thank you, Y.,
Since today marks the beginning of this blog tour as well as the cover reveal, I would like to talk a little bit about how I the idea and premise of "From Whence Jasmine Bloom" came.
One day I woke up with an image stuck in my head—I couldn’t shake it. The picture was vivid and it felt profound to me, as if it were tied to something that was on the cusp of being realized.Some may call it a vision or revelation. Honestly, I’d be pushing the envelope too far if I said that it was divinely inspired, for I can’t say that with certainty. But one thing I can say with absoluteness is that I saw this depiction in my mind’s eye as clear as day.That day I met with my publisher and her representatives and talked a little bit about this image I’d had stuck in my psyche. Immediately the graphic designer put pen to paper and perfectly duplicated the picture I’d seen. It was a flower laying atop a dark surface, but in the background was a transparent, hardly noticeable hourglass.“Rose, what’s it for?” she asked.“I have no idea.” I replied sincerely.The VP interjected. “It’s for a story, obviously.”“What story? I don’t have anything I am working, nothing outlines. Nothing.”“You will.” she retorted assuredly.“Um, okay. I guess.” saving the image I set all these thoughts side and continued on other things that I’d been working on.
Then I had a dream.
The night had fallen and in their quiet neighborhood crickets sang their evening tune. The wetness left behind from the night's prior rain fogged the windows slightly.A pink pegasus with a unicorn horn and a rainbow mane picked her up at the sliding glass door located in the dining room. I already knew why she was there.After a furious fight with my father at that very moment my brother helped calm me whilst sitting at the dining room table. With the corner of my eye I caught sight of the luminescence that alerted me of the pegasus' presence. When I stepped outside I realized that I was not alone."Do you see this?" I asked my brother."Yeah." he responded, simultaneously flabbergasted and stupefied."So this isn't in my head ...?""Nope."The pegasus neighed impatiently. A whimsical woman seated on the pegasus' back extended her hand towards me. "Come. We've got no time to waste. You have a long night ahead of you."In that instance, from an indiscernible distance down glided another pegasus—this one with yellow fur—with two girls on her back.In a state of disbelief I grabbed the angelic lady’s hand and mounted the creature."Come now ladies, prepare yourself for the flight. It may be a bit turbulent."The girls on the second pegasus murmured amongst each other, chattering about the adventure that awaited them all. I said nothing.With a nod of the head, the pegasus beat her front hooves, took a few leaps forward and just as simply ascended into the air.Closely behind was the yellow pegasus.Unmoved, and as if these things were an everyday occurrence, the magical lady spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "Hold on tight!"I gripped the lady's waste as hard as I could.The lady spoke again. "My name is Amelia-Aurora. I was sent to get you. In approximately 50,000 feet you will feel a shift in your vision. You will no longer perceive things as a human. You will instantly obtain angelic vision and see things as we do.""So ..." I gulped. "you are an angel?""Of course. What else would I be?"I nodded. A second later, my vision went blurry, static and then refocused. Then the whole of the world was now painted in a hue that resembled night vision goggles."At this point your vision should have changed."The girls on the second pegasus confirmed. I nodded again. "Ehem ... yeah.""One thousand more feet and we'll traverse The Wall.""'The Wall'?" Asked one of the girls."Yes, the clouds." Just as promised, in a matter of seconds we were floating amongst the clouds. Skillfully, Amelia-Aurora navigated the beast. We traversed The Wall and made it to the Heavenly Gates.
That’s when I woke up.
After several days of discussion with my fellow authors and under the impression that the story could be a contribution to an anthology I began to write it. In the story I supplemented myself for a character called Jasmine and as if by pure instinct the rest of the narrative just came to me. I wrote the entire story in the matter of a week.A few days later the All Authors VP read a portion of the story and said, “There it is. The story that goes with the cover.”She was right.That was when “From Whence Jasmine Blooms” was born—a coming of age story of a girl on a time sensitive adventure to discover her purpose in the world.
COMING TO AMAZONSEPTEMBER 2ND 2019!
August 15, 2019
"Amoresels" by Synful Desire Book Release
Today we celebrate the release of a new anthology by author Synful Desire.What is "Amoresels"?
"Amore", Italian for love."Moresels", a yummy tidbit.
"Amoresels" is a short story anothology that take the reader on a trip to all sorts of sexy senarios. In "Amoresels" there is no fetish too crazy, and no desire too taboo. From the everyday to the not so common, Synful Desire take the reader on quick trips to all things sensual.
The most savory and steamy can be found in the tiniest most unexpected locations.
Amoresels is an erotic flash fiction anthology crafted to satiate the rush for the ultimate stimuli quickie. Ranging from tantalizing teasers to eye opening kinks, Amoresels is a bold, unapologetic cornucopia of sensual liberation.
Featured stories include:
“The Desktop Surprise”, “The Gamers’ Disruption”, “Laundry Day”, “Taste on the Move”, “GFY”, “Bookworm”, “Build-A-Mate”, “The Infomercial Purchase”, “House of Mirrors”, “Tree of Lust”, “Curves Gym”, “Suds and Such”, “Moments in Time”, “Moments in Time”, “Full Circle”, “Whale of a Sale”, “Scentacular”, “Pleasure’s Blur”, “Party Monster”, “Royals’ Delight”, and “Amoresels”.
August 11, 2019
The Clapback on Censorship by Synful Desire
Hey, hey, y'all!
Today I am gonna sit back and enjoy the jargon. I invited author Synful Desire to my blog today and she didn't let me down. Enjoy, everyone! I know I will.
Since this is Sunday, I’d consider it some Soul Speak. Perhaps I’m letting off a little steam. However, if it is more the latter, being at Miss Y’s for a slice of apple pie and a glass of cold organic milk is an ideal spot.
You see, I was thinking about her work Peter Blade. The serial killer had trauma and reasoning behind the things he did. Not that I agree with it, but I understand. Yet, this serial killer makes more sense than the villainy of the erotica genre.
Erotica is painted out as a villain, even as it sits in the shadows not doing anything wrong. There’s an age restriction on erotica, so kids have no business even looking at it in the first place. Yet, there’s this all-out war against the genre, so much so, that you find it in mainstream spots less and less.
Yes, some of the writers (I don’t dare deem those types authors) are putting out garbage that I wouldn’t even read. Yet, putting visual and reading quality aside, I don’t think it is fair that one genre is singled out, like it’s the Scarlet Letter of Literature.
I think erotica can serve as an educational tool. One can spice up the boredom in the bedroom. One can learn something new that can take sensual skills to the next level. One can explore fantasies in the mind that one doesn’t have the bravery to exhibit publicly. Or, indulging in something steamy can take the mundane out of the every day.
Despite dabbling into other genres, erotica marks my origins. It is where I feel the most at home. It is where I am the most free. I have never restricted erotica to be a cauldron of coition and cuss words. Erotica is an art, and it takes place even before the physical begins.
It is the mind which navigates the direction of the body. This is why what is appealing to one person is not so much to another. If erotica was solely a bastard of the physical denouement of sexual contact, then all experiences would mimic each other continuously.
I don’t know about the rest of you but I find that extremely boring. Erotica is as simple or as complex as the individual makes it to be. I confess that the right scent on a man stimulates me more than seeing a penis picture on my phone. Although men are classified as “one track minded” creatures as it pertains to arousal, there are many dimensions and kinks to them as well.
Positive satiation is a natural state. It should be celebrated not censored. It’s sad how gung ho society is to permit violence to the point of desensitization but the sight of sensual connectivity is anarchy.
What happened to “Make Love Not War”?
Amoresels brings me back to my erotica roots. I classify the flash fiction collection as “the stimuli you don’t realize you’re craving”. From daydreaming gone wild to out-of-this world situations, Amoresels is packed with the unexpected.
I hold nothing back, and I know this won’t be for everybody. In response to that, I will say this. Every artist comes to a point in her career where she does a selfish work, one that has to be done for herself. A writer is an artist of literature, and even we have those moments. Amoresels is my selfish work.
Until next time,
Today I am gonna sit back and enjoy the jargon. I invited author Synful Desire to my blog today and she didn't let me down. Enjoy, everyone! I know I will.
Since this is Sunday, I’d consider it some Soul Speak. Perhaps I’m letting off a little steam. However, if it is more the latter, being at Miss Y’s for a slice of apple pie and a glass of cold organic milk is an ideal spot.
You see, I was thinking about her work Peter Blade. The serial killer had trauma and reasoning behind the things he did. Not that I agree with it, but I understand. Yet, this serial killer makes more sense than the villainy of the erotica genre.
Erotica is painted out as a villain, even as it sits in the shadows not doing anything wrong. There’s an age restriction on erotica, so kids have no business even looking at it in the first place. Yet, there’s this all-out war against the genre, so much so, that you find it in mainstream spots less and less.
Yes, some of the writers (I don’t dare deem those types authors) are putting out garbage that I wouldn’t even read. Yet, putting visual and reading quality aside, I don’t think it is fair that one genre is singled out, like it’s the Scarlet Letter of Literature.
I think erotica can serve as an educational tool. One can spice up the boredom in the bedroom. One can learn something new that can take sensual skills to the next level. One can explore fantasies in the mind that one doesn’t have the bravery to exhibit publicly. Or, indulging in something steamy can take the mundane out of the every day.
Despite dabbling into other genres, erotica marks my origins. It is where I feel the most at home. It is where I am the most free. I have never restricted erotica to be a cauldron of coition and cuss words. Erotica is an art, and it takes place even before the physical begins.
It is the mind which navigates the direction of the body. This is why what is appealing to one person is not so much to another. If erotica was solely a bastard of the physical denouement of sexual contact, then all experiences would mimic each other continuously.
I don’t know about the rest of you but I find that extremely boring. Erotica is as simple or as complex as the individual makes it to be. I confess that the right scent on a man stimulates me more than seeing a penis picture on my phone. Although men are classified as “one track minded” creatures as it pertains to arousal, there are many dimensions and kinks to them as well.
Positive satiation is a natural state. It should be celebrated not censored. It’s sad how gung ho society is to permit violence to the point of desensitization but the sight of sensual connectivity is anarchy.
What happened to “Make Love Not War”?
Amoresels brings me back to my erotica roots. I classify the flash fiction collection as “the stimuli you don’t realize you’re craving”. From daydreaming gone wild to out-of-this world situations, Amoresels is packed with the unexpected.
I hold nothing back, and I know this won’t be for everybody. In response to that, I will say this. Every artist comes to a point in her career where she does a selfish work, one that has to be done for herself. A writer is an artist of literature, and even we have those moments. Amoresels is my selfish work.
Until next time,
July 2, 2019
Pleasure Prints Book Release!
AND BOY DO WE HAVE A GOOD REASON TO CELEBRATE!
All Authors has been waiting 3 years to release this publication and the joy is beyond words!
Blurb:
Divergent Ink is the mesh of different frames of thoughts, various interpretations of one core question that yearns for universal expansion. Although the subject matter may change every year, the purpose of the Divergent Ink series will remain the same.The second book in the Divergent Ink anthology series, “Pleasure Prints”, revolves around the following question:
Where is paradise?
Six Divergent Inks exploring " Pleasure Prints ". Will the destination cause one to sip a tropical cocktail or cock an eyebrow in amazement?
Featuring:
Adonis Mann: Desperation and delusion are a marriage of emotions. Sentiments collide when three lives tell their tales. Hypnotizing and melancholic are the days of the souls who pursue the "Odyssey of Rhapsody".
C. Desert Rose: Helena can be cumbersome and crude, while her life is at a standstill, she likes it that way. Amidst the orange glow of office lights and a steaming cup of hot chocolate, Helena learns that life is a series of "Fleeting Moments".
Da'Kharta Rising: For Masato, there's no time like the present. Is no limit too great to accomplish “Masato's Zion”?
Synful Desire: Cecilia Teflon knows she doesn't have much time left. Before she leaves this earth, she must make a confession. Will this revelation grant her entrance into spiritual paradise? Explore the twists and turns of “Onus”.
Queen of Spades: Axana has always lived a very careful life but a lucrative advertisement shreds her comfort zone. Paradise is where one least expects in “Axana … Unscripted”.
Y. Correa: Myth or memory, which can it be? A life so scripted can be less than desirable. To go or to stay, it is that question that leaves, "Nalani at Heaven's Gates".
Also, GET "CRACKLES OF THE HEART: DIVERGENT INK BOOK 1" FREE FOR A LIMITED TIME!
July 1, 2019
Blog Tour Final Day--My Divergence
Hey y'all.
I was luck enough to be the last one to be featured during this week long blog tour. Because of it, I thought I would speak a little bit about what makes me different. Here you have it.
My Divergence.
For a long time I thought that being different was something to be frowned upon. Then I created All Authors and through those means was able to connect with others who considered themselves different. Now, being different is something I revel in, and of course, condone.
Please, by all means, be different! Different is GOOD!
Truth be told there is more to it than meets the eye. Please permit me a moment of your time to tell you the short story of my divergence.
Once upon a time, I was a kid growing up in the hood. Due to several family chemistry elements, I was not allowed to be who I truly was. And who I truly was, was vastly different from the ambiance that surrounded me.
At a very young age I struggle with dyslexia that remained unaddressed for many years. But that did not take away from me love for books which consequently started very early on as well. My love for books started with the library. Whenever I entered this magnificent place, it was like walking into my dreams. Picture books were my favorite as they had very few words.
In time the romance with literature grew as did I.
I never really fit in, as a child. It had much more to do with the function of my mind than anything else.
Through a series of disappointing events I eventually became the person I am today. And guess what? I wouldn't change a thing. Because while the quest to self-discovery led me through some unappealing roads, it also served to teach me that what made me different from most was also my strength.
The very same challenges that subsequently molded my person also established the firmament of my art.
I take irrevocable pride in my divergence for it speaks in volumes to the public that I am not just “another writer”. Writing is in my blood. It was what I was always meant to do. Who I was always meant to be. I don't just tell stories, I create an experience, and I love every minute of it.
It is this divergence that allows me to write lines such as …
“A wistful ghost, was she. Enraged, defeated, perpetually ponderous, she felt. How could this have happened? Rage consumed her to the point of paramount eruption. Who did they think they were? No one! No one had ever done such a thing to her before! Vagabond she hazed the Netherworld, back and forth, forth and back—as though she were unable to do anything else. Of course, she was unable to do anything else in the bleak, lifeless place. The only thing her infuriated persona was capable of doing was pacing and waiting.”
Excerpt “MarcoAntonio & Amaryllis”
“Wispy ringlets danced in the sky in a million different colors—some unrecognizable. Soft blue and majestic puffy cotton-balls filled the space behind it. A backdrop of celestial azure with a rainbow of circles aplenty curtaining atop. A single sphere of bright light swayed to and fro above it. A luminescent orb with a life of its own.”
Excerpt “Camielle’s Lights”
“Pivoting on her heels, Genesis turned to face the long, empty expanse ahead of her and walked away. Her hips swayed as she ambled forward, like a nymph, precision and allurement absolute.”
Excerpt “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project”
“Then the dream—the memory—took on an ominous milieu. Dark, calamitous, eerie, hitting Lilith’s cerebra in horrifying palpitations.
Blood.
Screams.
Lilith on top of Randolph.
More screams.
Warm solvent running down her chin.
The taste of cloying amrita.
Blood everywhere. On the ground, on the walls, spattered in every corner of the expanse.
Randolph, pale and limp, eyes open yet lifeless.”Excerpt “Lilith’s Dominion”The day that the vice president of All Authors created “Divergent Ink” and told me about her idea, it was like music to my soul. I simply could not say no to the venture. I saw this as the opportunity to give the world a taste of our collective hearts, minds and spirits. I was, without a doubt, beautiful to me.
Writing “Nalani at Heaven's Gates” in order to give my answer to the theme question, “Where is paradise?” was so gratifying. You see, after many years I have learned that my personal paradise is being exactly who I am, exactly where I am.
I was luck enough to be the last one to be featured during this week long blog tour. Because of it, I thought I would speak a little bit about what makes me different. Here you have it.
My Divergence.
For a long time I thought that being different was something to be frowned upon. Then I created All Authors and through those means was able to connect with others who considered themselves different. Now, being different is something I revel in, and of course, condone.
Please, by all means, be different! Different is GOOD!
Truth be told there is more to it than meets the eye. Please permit me a moment of your time to tell you the short story of my divergence.
Once upon a time, I was a kid growing up in the hood. Due to several family chemistry elements, I was not allowed to be who I truly was. And who I truly was, was vastly different from the ambiance that surrounded me.
At a very young age I struggle with dyslexia that remained unaddressed for many years. But that did not take away from me love for books which consequently started very early on as well. My love for books started with the library. Whenever I entered this magnificent place, it was like walking into my dreams. Picture books were my favorite as they had very few words.
In time the romance with literature grew as did I.
I never really fit in, as a child. It had much more to do with the function of my mind than anything else.
Through a series of disappointing events I eventually became the person I am today. And guess what? I wouldn't change a thing. Because while the quest to self-discovery led me through some unappealing roads, it also served to teach me that what made me different from most was also my strength.
The very same challenges that subsequently molded my person also established the firmament of my art.
I take irrevocable pride in my divergence for it speaks in volumes to the public that I am not just “another writer”. Writing is in my blood. It was what I was always meant to do. Who I was always meant to be. I don't just tell stories, I create an experience, and I love every minute of it.
It is this divergence that allows me to write lines such as …
“A wistful ghost, was she. Enraged, defeated, perpetually ponderous, she felt. How could this have happened? Rage consumed her to the point of paramount eruption. Who did they think they were? No one! No one had ever done such a thing to her before! Vagabond she hazed the Netherworld, back and forth, forth and back—as though she were unable to do anything else. Of course, she was unable to do anything else in the bleak, lifeless place. The only thing her infuriated persona was capable of doing was pacing and waiting.”
Excerpt “MarcoAntonio & Amaryllis”
“Wispy ringlets danced in the sky in a million different colors—some unrecognizable. Soft blue and majestic puffy cotton-balls filled the space behind it. A backdrop of celestial azure with a rainbow of circles aplenty curtaining atop. A single sphere of bright light swayed to and fro above it. A luminescent orb with a life of its own.”
Excerpt “Camielle’s Lights”
“Pivoting on her heels, Genesis turned to face the long, empty expanse ahead of her and walked away. Her hips swayed as she ambled forward, like a nymph, precision and allurement absolute.”
Excerpt “Earth 8-8-2: The Genesis Project”
“Then the dream—the memory—took on an ominous milieu. Dark, calamitous, eerie, hitting Lilith’s cerebra in horrifying palpitations.
Blood.
Screams.
Lilith on top of Randolph.
More screams.
Warm solvent running down her chin.
The taste of cloying amrita.
Blood everywhere. On the ground, on the walls, spattered in every corner of the expanse.
Randolph, pale and limp, eyes open yet lifeless.”Excerpt “Lilith’s Dominion”The day that the vice president of All Authors created “Divergent Ink” and told me about her idea, it was like music to my soul. I simply could not say no to the venture. I saw this as the opportunity to give the world a taste of our collective hearts, minds and spirits. I was, without a doubt, beautiful to me.
Writing “Nalani at Heaven's Gates” in order to give my answer to the theme question, “Where is paradise?” was so gratifying. You see, after many years I have learned that my personal paradise is being exactly who I am, exactly where I am.
June 30, 2019
The Arithmetic of Life
As most of you guys probably already know, Queen of Spades and I are like 2 peas in a pod. I am the President of All Authors and she is the Vice President. For the Pleasure Prints Blog tour, I found it fitting for her to get her "real talk" on. So, here you have it ... Queen of Spades!
Hello to all,
Today I am taking a small break from being Queen of Spades the author because in order to discuss this particular topic, I must serve as Monica the Architect.
For those of you who didn’t know, I am the half-brain behind the “Concordant Vibrancy” concept and the full brain behind the birth of “Divergent Ink”. I am going to focus on Divergent Ink, but I actually apply this method to both collections.
A few weeks back, all the participants in the Pleasure Prints blog tour were discussing dates and specifics. One of the authors asked me:
How do you determine the order of writings in the collection?
To outsiders, it does seem random. I don’t go from shortest to longest or longest to shortest. I don’t go in alphabetical order via title or alphabetical order via author. Yet, there is a science to the process.
The formula I use to set the order of writings is “The Arithmetic of Life”.
“The Arithmetic of Life” mark the ups and downs of life. It’s like waves. One moment, all could be smooth sailing. The next, you are experience high tide, fighting to stay alive.
I go into the planning as a reader, absorbing each story and the way certain characters and situations make me feel. I take into account the lingering effects as well. Am I left wondering? Am I left inspired? Am I left shaking my head?
Sometimes, there’s even a type of music playing inside my head. For the more intense scenes, a bit of opera, maybe hip hop. For lighter scenes or happily ever after, some rhythm and blues or a light piano.
When I’m in “reader” mode, I’m not doing any editing or making suggestions. I stay in my role.
After reading each story, I explore the number of stories as well as how many fit one set of emotions versus another.
For Pleasure Prints, the feel is from “whimsical” to “coming full circle”.
If there is a situation where more than one story produces similar feelings or resolutions, then other factors come into play like length and the author’s names. So far, the times I’ve encountered that have been minimal.
See, there was no algebra involved. Just symmetry of psychology and the actions therein.
Hope you enjoyed this backstage pass into my process.
Peace.
Hello to all,
Today I am taking a small break from being Queen of Spades the author because in order to discuss this particular topic, I must serve as Monica the Architect.
For those of you who didn’t know, I am the half-brain behind the “Concordant Vibrancy” concept and the full brain behind the birth of “Divergent Ink”. I am going to focus on Divergent Ink, but I actually apply this method to both collections.
A few weeks back, all the participants in the Pleasure Prints blog tour were discussing dates and specifics. One of the authors asked me:
How do you determine the order of writings in the collection?
To outsiders, it does seem random. I don’t go from shortest to longest or longest to shortest. I don’t go in alphabetical order via title or alphabetical order via author. Yet, there is a science to the process.
The formula I use to set the order of writings is “The Arithmetic of Life”.
“The Arithmetic of Life” mark the ups and downs of life. It’s like waves. One moment, all could be smooth sailing. The next, you are experience high tide, fighting to stay alive.
I go into the planning as a reader, absorbing each story and the way certain characters and situations make me feel. I take into account the lingering effects as well. Am I left wondering? Am I left inspired? Am I left shaking my head?
Sometimes, there’s even a type of music playing inside my head. For the more intense scenes, a bit of opera, maybe hip hop. For lighter scenes or happily ever after, some rhythm and blues or a light piano.
When I’m in “reader” mode, I’m not doing any editing or making suggestions. I stay in my role.
After reading each story, I explore the number of stories as well as how many fit one set of emotions versus another.
For Pleasure Prints, the feel is from “whimsical” to “coming full circle”.
If there is a situation where more than one story produces similar feelings or resolutions, then other factors come into play like length and the author’s names. So far, the times I’ve encountered that have been minimal.
See, there was no algebra involved. Just symmetry of psychology and the actions therein.
Hope you enjoyed this backstage pass into my process.
Peace.
June 29, 2019
Pleasure Prints Blog Tour: Synful Desire
Let's Talk Development
Hi everybody! Let’s talk Development.
When the question of “Where is paradise?” was brought up, usually one brings up a place. Usually, in the genre I’m most closely associated with (re: erotica), a hot steamy love scene between two hot people is the definition.
To me, that was a bit too boring, not a challenge in the least.
As writers, we have to challenge ourselves, even if you are one of those types that likes to stay in your lane. Not throwing shade on that. It’s just that you have to find different ways to write about universal situations; otherwise, how can you really discern one from the other?
I wanted to approach it from an emotional perspective and the first thought which came to mind was those who believe that confession is good for the soul. Not only that, but also those people who have done wrong things in the eyes of man. Those people confess to ensure that they will be accepted in Heaven before they pass on.
The main character, Cecilia Teflon, is in the later years of her life. I don’t specify how late but her health is failing. She can’t move around as well and she has moments where she remembers events out of order. Due to a situation that is happening with her granddaughter Amber Moon, Cecilia believes that relaying an event that happened in her past can prevent Amber Moon from doing harm to others with her actions.
Not only will confession unburden Cecilia’s spirit, Cecilia feels it is her onus to counsel Amber Moon to prevent her, if she can, for making mistakes that could jeopardize Amber Moon’s future.
Hence, peril be on us.
What can I say? I couldn’t resist the play on words.
I do love Cecilia. She is a wonder mix of tough, tender, and comical. Cecilia was a delight to create and enjoyable to me as a reader. Also, the attendants that provided assistance, rebelling against the horror stories one hears about abuse done to the elderly.
I guess I shouldn’t say this but I can’t stand Micah. Yes, I know I created him. Yes, he has that level of arrogance and lyrical swag that brings loads of females to the yard. It doesn’t take away from the fact that I’m not cool with the core of him. Yet, the contrast is a prime ingredient for the drama I had to pull off in the seemingly perfect bond of Amber Moon and Geoff.
I have the most fun in the gray—creating characters where the verdict is out whether you like them or hate them. For me, that person was Amber Moon. She represents, in my view, the modern day female—I pause in saying “woman” because woman involves a certain level of maturity and security. That is where I’m going to leave it because I’m not going to spoil all the inner workings of the narrative. That’s where the reading comes in.
Until next time,
Hi everybody! Let’s talk Development.
When the question of “Where is paradise?” was brought up, usually one brings up a place. Usually, in the genre I’m most closely associated with (re: erotica), a hot steamy love scene between two hot people is the definition.
To me, that was a bit too boring, not a challenge in the least.
As writers, we have to challenge ourselves, even if you are one of those types that likes to stay in your lane. Not throwing shade on that. It’s just that you have to find different ways to write about universal situations; otherwise, how can you really discern one from the other?
I wanted to approach it from an emotional perspective and the first thought which came to mind was those who believe that confession is good for the soul. Not only that, but also those people who have done wrong things in the eyes of man. Those people confess to ensure that they will be accepted in Heaven before they pass on.
The main character, Cecilia Teflon, is in the later years of her life. I don’t specify how late but her health is failing. She can’t move around as well and she has moments where she remembers events out of order. Due to a situation that is happening with her granddaughter Amber Moon, Cecilia believes that relaying an event that happened in her past can prevent Amber Moon from doing harm to others with her actions.
Not only will confession unburden Cecilia’s spirit, Cecilia feels it is her onus to counsel Amber Moon to prevent her, if she can, for making mistakes that could jeopardize Amber Moon’s future.
Hence, peril be on us.
What can I say? I couldn’t resist the play on words.
I do love Cecilia. She is a wonder mix of tough, tender, and comical. Cecilia was a delight to create and enjoyable to me as a reader. Also, the attendants that provided assistance, rebelling against the horror stories one hears about abuse done to the elderly.
I guess I shouldn’t say this but I can’t stand Micah. Yes, I know I created him. Yes, he has that level of arrogance and lyrical swag that brings loads of females to the yard. It doesn’t take away from the fact that I’m not cool with the core of him. Yet, the contrast is a prime ingredient for the drama I had to pull off in the seemingly perfect bond of Amber Moon and Geoff.
I have the most fun in the gray—creating characters where the verdict is out whether you like them or hate them. For me, that person was Amber Moon. She represents, in my view, the modern day female—I pause in saying “woman” because woman involves a certain level of maturity and security. That is where I’m going to leave it because I’m not going to spoil all the inner workings of the narrative. That’s where the reading comes in.
Until next time,
June 28, 2019
Pleasure Prints Blog Tour: Da'Kharta Rising
The Treatment of Tragedy
Hello. I am Da’Kharta Rising. I am addicted to tragedy. I do not seek remedy to this addiction. On the contrary, I will tell you what tragedy has done for me.
Everyone prefers seeing people in their best light. People obsess over everything from makeup, to hair, to clothes … all of this to ensure they aren’t made fools of in the public arena. People put in the universe their desires to be happy, to be fun, to be prosperous. All of that sounds fantastic but there is a flaw that is the neverending stain of all mankind.
It is the thirst for more, being parched due to dissatisfaction.
What drives this thirst? Is it due to the fall from grace in the Garden of Eden? Is it wanting to be perfect? Is it being in constant competition with the next being? Could it be all of the aforementioned, or none of it at all?
From what I have observed, the people who supposedly “have it all” act the most ungrateful. Almost entitled, like they have the right to be at the top of the mountain all the time. They take what they have for granted, to the point of indifference.
To me, that’s an act worse than hatred.
Where are the lessons if everything is handed to one without recompense? Where are the checks and balances if all behaves on the uptick?
In this regard, tragedy is a requirement. It is an absolute. It is the necessary splash of water to arrogant faces, the ones that don’t believe they are one power walk, bicep curl, or leg press away from losing everything.
Sorry everyone, there was this workout video that was aggravating me. Where was I?
On second thought, this whole workout thing may make for a good analogy. Stick with me.
In order for a muscle to become strong, it has to encounter some level of resistance. Yes, it’s nice to be able to do 200 reps with five pound weights, but after a while the 200 reps would become boring, to the point where one can do it with eyes closed.
Therefore, one has to increase the pounds to provide more resistance.
Tragedy is humanity’s resistance. Yes, it causes a lot of strife, in varying degrees. Each individual handles tragedy differently. Some have difficulty bouncing back; others let the happenstances consume them to the point of no return.
As a writer, I choose to utilize tragedy in the most powerful way possible—in writing, to act as a mirror into human behavior as well as to deliver my own twisted way of justice.For me, death isn’t a scary thing. It’s a natural act, on a mode of everything’s eventual. Some causes may be a bit gorier than others. Oh well! It is what it is.
When one can turn pain into power, suffering in silence into standing strong, whoever is against you is already defeated, even if that person doesn’t know it. You are delivering a message to the Universe (or whatever you choose to believe in) that you aren’t a punk and giving said Universe permission to unleash whatever venom it wants.
For that reason, I have never wished for a tragedy free anything. It is the pain which gives me fire, which revitalizes me. Talk trash about me? Cool. I’ll resurrect you as a character that loses his tongue. Want to hurt someone close to me? Okay, bet. Your death in my next story will involve slow, meticulous disembowelment.
You get the picture.
Hello. I am Da’Kharta Rising. I am addicted to tragedy. I do not seek remedy to this addiction. On the contrary, I will tell you what tragedy has done for me.
Everyone prefers seeing people in their best light. People obsess over everything from makeup, to hair, to clothes … all of this to ensure they aren’t made fools of in the public arena. People put in the universe their desires to be happy, to be fun, to be prosperous. All of that sounds fantastic but there is a flaw that is the neverending stain of all mankind.
It is the thirst for more, being parched due to dissatisfaction.
What drives this thirst? Is it due to the fall from grace in the Garden of Eden? Is it wanting to be perfect? Is it being in constant competition with the next being? Could it be all of the aforementioned, or none of it at all?
From what I have observed, the people who supposedly “have it all” act the most ungrateful. Almost entitled, like they have the right to be at the top of the mountain all the time. They take what they have for granted, to the point of indifference.
To me, that’s an act worse than hatred.
Where are the lessons if everything is handed to one without recompense? Where are the checks and balances if all behaves on the uptick?
In this regard, tragedy is a requirement. It is an absolute. It is the necessary splash of water to arrogant faces, the ones that don’t believe they are one power walk, bicep curl, or leg press away from losing everything.
Sorry everyone, there was this workout video that was aggravating me. Where was I?
On second thought, this whole workout thing may make for a good analogy. Stick with me.
In order for a muscle to become strong, it has to encounter some level of resistance. Yes, it’s nice to be able to do 200 reps with five pound weights, but after a while the 200 reps would become boring, to the point where one can do it with eyes closed.
Therefore, one has to increase the pounds to provide more resistance.
Tragedy is humanity’s resistance. Yes, it causes a lot of strife, in varying degrees. Each individual handles tragedy differently. Some have difficulty bouncing back; others let the happenstances consume them to the point of no return.
As a writer, I choose to utilize tragedy in the most powerful way possible—in writing, to act as a mirror into human behavior as well as to deliver my own twisted way of justice.For me, death isn’t a scary thing. It’s a natural act, on a mode of everything’s eventual. Some causes may be a bit gorier than others. Oh well! It is what it is.
When one can turn pain into power, suffering in silence into standing strong, whoever is against you is already defeated, even if that person doesn’t know it. You are delivering a message to the Universe (or whatever you choose to believe in) that you aren’t a punk and giving said Universe permission to unleash whatever venom it wants.
For that reason, I have never wished for a tragedy free anything. It is the pain which gives me fire, which revitalizes me. Talk trash about me? Cool. I’ll resurrect you as a character that loses his tongue. Want to hurt someone close to me? Okay, bet. Your death in my next story will involve slow, meticulous disembowelment.
You get the picture.
June 27, 2019
Pleasure Prints Blog Tour: C. Desert Rose
Straight Talk With Helena
For your entertainment, co-author of " Pleasure Prints " Da'Kharta Rising and I interview Helena from C. Desert Rose's contribution, " Fleeting Moments ". Sit back and enjoy the ride!
Da’Kharta’s questions:
Has anyone ever called you a Bitter Betty? If so, do you think it’s accurate? If not, do you agree with how you are portrayed in the story?
First I just want to say hello. Hope you’re doing well.
Now, to address your question …
For your entertainment, co-author of " Pleasure Prints " Da'Kharta Rising and I interview Helena from C. Desert Rose's contribution, " Fleeting Moments ". Sit back and enjoy the ride!
Da’Kharta’s questions:Has anyone ever called you a Bitter Betty? If so, do you think it’s accurate? If not, do you agree with how you are portrayed in the story?
First I just want to say hello. Hope you’re doing well.
Now, to address your question …
