Fierce Dolan's Blog: Writing Utopia, One Word at a Time, page 18

Gigolo Seduction Featured!

Yay!  Gigolo Seduction is the current featured on The Log Line Blog!  Comment there and be entered in a chance to win an Amazon or ARe gift card!  If you like interracial erotica or femdom, you want to check this out!

Long in passion’s service, confident Asif enjoys his life as a thirty-something escort, bringing romance into the lives of metropolitan socialite cougars. Gifted at seducing wealthy white MILFs and bringing them endless pleasure, the arrogant Persian eschews investing in a personal life. A chance meeting with young artist, Cass, while on the job at a gala event, changes his perspective on women forever, and unleashes desires Asif never knew he had.

 

MILF–Insult or Compliment?

 

 

Let’s talk about it.  Join me today on Mahalia Levey’s blog, where we discuss “Classic MILFs…”  Where the term came from, what it means, who uses it, and how it shapes cultural views on feminine sexuality.

 

Gigolo Seduction #1 in Interracial Erotica

I’m beaming! Gigolo Seduction is #1 on Amazon in Interracial Erotica!

Thanks everyone for Liking and Tagging!

Middle Eastern-influenced Erotica and Another Chance to Win Gigolo Seduction

The darkness in my mind seeping out onto paper and making men of Middle Eastern origin interracial romantic leads… These and a chance to win a copy of Gigolo Seduction in my interview on Gracen’s Road to Hell.”

Win a Copy of Gigolo Seduction!

What’s a flugelbinder and mezzofiction got to do with Amy Tan? See for yourself, and comment to win a copy of “Gigolo Seduction” on Misty Rayburn’s The Top Shelf.

A Secret of Soul Romance

 

More in love with the potential than the person? Get my professional opinion on soul romance at my guest blog on  Deena Remiel’s Place.  Deena is an author of paranormal romance and poetry, and she’s always got something interesting going on at her place.

Friday Flash – The Other Wicked

I wasn’t always bitter. Fierce, yes. Passionate, without doubt.   Regardless of what happened understand that no man made me, not even a dark lord. I won’t say his name, not because it is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but because it doesn’t matter. He’s long since had power over me. Nothing created me; I realized what I always was.  No, I wasn’t always bitter, but I was always cruel.

He first noticed me in school. We were but children, though our shadows attracted the darkness in each other. What began with simple boyish hair-pulling became my steely heel between his shoulder blades, his hips humping the cold castle floor, through classrooms, the Great Hall, our dorm–wherever I felled him. Even then he craved discipline, nurture fitted in pain and frustration, and I was perfect to give it in every bind, through every sashaying parade of my best frocks hugging his delicate, welting flesh. The sight of him in a corset and stockings, on his knees, bottom bared, panting, needy…  All delights that children shouldn’t know but once they learn can’t stop inflicting, craving.

Oh, I whipped him. Through school and years after I flogged him nightly, tethered him, and milked him by dawn. Were it not for my mastery he’d have brought down the wizarding world long before The Boy. Fucking hell, if he’d listened to me The Boy would’ve never happened.  But his fortitude flagged—despite his knob—in the vice of a polyjuice junky.  The young Crouch miscreant undid my years of hard work. With that ponce in the form of every creature known to Merlin, he’d go at it. What lash and feminine guile can top an insatiable centaur or frothing, rutting hippogriff? Even I couldn’t inflict that much pain.  Disciplining him was no longer a matter of framing psychological boundaries in emotional subjugation, tenderized will. Madness became his lover and he courted her through piles of corpses, wiles of hate.  He seduced everything he touched, though after his explorations he never touched me again.  I could no longer enthrall him, control him with thorny affection.

In my boredom I married a spineless man.  Our only true bond was shared affection for my dark love.  My husband, too, wore my gowns over blood-streaked shoulder blades and a jutting plug, happily laving street filth from my boots.  I felt nothing for his perfect devotion.  That was when I realized my fondness for my lord wasn’t rooted in his fetish for unbridled cruelty or in my desire to selflessly serve it.

Close, he kept me, and well.  Still, I languished among his followers as a relic, a dusty memento of his becoming.  After his first defeat I was to just go on as if there were no gaping emptiness inside, spur my groveling husband, play the dutiful wife… until new playgrounds for my talents arose.  In his absence I became the devoted vigilante.  Through the charred remains of muggles and entrails of mudbloods I kept his memory alive.  Then, from the confines of my cell I scryed the promise of his rule into the nightmares of the wizarding world.

When he returned I thought perhaps our time had come.  Trapped in that pathetic knot of flesh, defenseless and weak, my heart ached to see him strong, wicked again.  I named myself his caregiver.  My disappointment in his need for me thrummed between his greedy sucking mouth and my cracked, chafed nipples.  His hunger for me ceased there.  Nourished from my body and fed by my hope he rose to even greater power, though traversing the back alleys of the unformed void and plummeting back into flesh left him with no taste for sensual treats, only a thirst for death, destruction.  He wanted no part of me.

That’s why when that fat twat stood between me and her daughter leveling her wand at me, I let the curse pierce my heart.  What fresh pain could it stir?  None of this was what I wanted.  What I wanted could never be.

I was his most powerful other.  My survival ensured his own.  Without me, The Boy would prevail.

I made him, and I murdered him.

I loved him.

Parade of Digital Diversity Book Blog Tour 2012 Dates

I’m everywhere! My Parade of Digital Diversity Book Blog Tour 2012 is underway! Today I’m at Zee Monodee’s. She’s a total sweetheart and a hawt writer. Check out her stuff. She did a great interview with me, about things like mezzofiction, teeth percussion, and days that don’t require crowbars. You know you want to know…

I’m also stopping by Lia Davis’ blog, where I’m talking about distraction being a great way to shake up writer’s block. “The thing is, when I’m having a hard time moving through a certain aspect of a writing project or I’ve written to the wall and need to dream up what comes next, those little jogs through other peoples’ statuses and quirky quips often jar clarity.” Lia’s also a prolific romance writer. Give Lia love =)

I’ve also started working on a super top secret ninja project. There aren’t any ninjas in the project. Rather, I’m so sneaky you would never know I’m working on it if I didn’t tell you. And it’s dark, oh so dark…

Sexcations and film

At the end of last week, the film Paradise: Love–the first in a trilogy of films– was raising eyebrows at Cannes.[1]  Based around the growing industry of sexual tourism involving wealthy older women seeking exotic jungle love in lesser privileged countries, Paradise: Love has been well-received.  Directed by Austrian, Ulrich Seidl, the film depicts Margarethe Tiesel as Teresa, a 50-year-old Viennese single mother, as seeking comfort from her stressful life, and finding it in the arms of a young African gigolo.    Drama ensues as her sexcation unfolds and she learns just what she’s gotten herself into.

I’ve written about sexcations before, in the post Human Trafficking and Double Standards, where I intimated not being impressed with yet another way to cast women in positions of men with power yet still make them out to be inferior.  I’m intrigued with what I read of Seidl’s film, though.  It seems he is tapping more into the emotional reasons for why women seek out such fulfillments to begin with, rather than on their shortcomings for needing to.  He also addresses head-on how men are viewed as powerful for purchasing sex, while women are demeaned for it.  Needless to say, it’s officially in my Netflix Queue.

So while you’re waiting for Paradise: Love to come to DVD, check out my take on the role of men in the sex trade, in Gigolo Seduction…

Available on:

Cover Art Preview for ‘Traveler Through Darkness’…

Love the new cover art for my upcoming interracial erotica, Traveler Through Darkness.

Boy on boy on yum…

Coming soon in The Edge series from Decadent Publishing!

[image error]