Stylo Fantome's Blog, page 3
November 17, 2014
YOU ARE A SLUT (no seriously, you, over there, to the left)
So. Tatum O'Shea is a BIG SLUT.
Such a horrible thing!
Only ..., is it?
I never thought of that as a bad thing about her. Just as Jameson's sadistic bedroom fetishes aren't part of what's wrong with him, I don't think Tate's sexual appetite is something that's wrong with her. She glories in her sexuality. Embraces it. She likes to have sex, cause hey, sex feels good.
And it's not like she has it with just anyone who comes along - in the books, she turns down several opportunities, despite the fact that she and Jameson are in an open relationship. Despite the fact that he himself continues sleeping with other women, regularly.
Yet it is assumed that since she's a slut, she must hate herself.
It's amazing to me that we as women have this opinion of our own sexuality. To want to enjoy sex and enjoy it with multiple partners, of your own free will and choice, is a bad, dirty thing, apparently.
Yet most of the men in these books - and in real life! - can have sex with almost anything that moves, and it's just being a playboy.
Talk about your double standards! Which I expect from men, cause hey, I'm sexist in my own ways.
But it still surprises me from women.
Yes, Tate is unhappy with herself, but not necessarily because of her promiscuity. You will have to read Reparation to find out more about that, as it's in there. There are a lot of other reasons for her to be upset with herself. Bad life choices, low self esteem that is a result of a childhood spent with parents who didn't love or understand her.
I am not a slut. I have only had sex with one person in my entire life - my husband. But I don't think there's anything wrong with someone who is or someone who wants to be.
Just as I don't think there's anything wrong with open relationships or polyamory. Or orgies or communes or sister-wives.
As long as it's honest and it's consensual, why not just let people be who they want to be? Some people like to don plush animal costumes and get it on that way - more power to you. Tatum likes to have a lot of sex.
As long as you're happy and you're not hurting anyone, it's all good.
... well, unless they want to be hurt, and then that's okay, too ;D
Such a horrible thing!
Only ..., is it?
I never thought of that as a bad thing about her. Just as Jameson's sadistic bedroom fetishes aren't part of what's wrong with him, I don't think Tate's sexual appetite is something that's wrong with her. She glories in her sexuality. Embraces it. She likes to have sex, cause hey, sex feels good.
And it's not like she has it with just anyone who comes along - in the books, she turns down several opportunities, despite the fact that she and Jameson are in an open relationship. Despite the fact that he himself continues sleeping with other women, regularly.
Yet it is assumed that since she's a slut, she must hate herself.
It's amazing to me that we as women have this opinion of our own sexuality. To want to enjoy sex and enjoy it with multiple partners, of your own free will and choice, is a bad, dirty thing, apparently.
Yet most of the men in these books - and in real life! - can have sex with almost anything that moves, and it's just being a playboy.
Talk about your double standards! Which I expect from men, cause hey, I'm sexist in my own ways.
But it still surprises me from women.
Yes, Tate is unhappy with herself, but not necessarily because of her promiscuity. You will have to read Reparation to find out more about that, as it's in there. There are a lot of other reasons for her to be upset with herself. Bad life choices, low self esteem that is a result of a childhood spent with parents who didn't love or understand her.
I am not a slut. I have only had sex with one person in my entire life - my husband. But I don't think there's anything wrong with someone who is or someone who wants to be.
Just as I don't think there's anything wrong with open relationships or polyamory. Or orgies or communes or sister-wives.
As long as it's honest and it's consensual, why not just let people be who they want to be? Some people like to don plush animal costumes and get it on that way - more power to you. Tatum likes to have a lot of sex.
As long as you're happy and you're not hurting anyone, it's all good.
... well, unless they want to be hurt, and then that's okay, too ;D
November 10, 2014
Oh Sanders, My Sanders
You all think you love Sanders?
No, no, no, no, no - I love Sanders. I love him so much, and I am still so shocked - beyond shocked - at the reception he has received. At the fan base HE has built. No me - him. All him. It's amazing.
I never imagined when I wrote him that he would steal as many hearts as he has; that he would steal the show as much as he has. I have said it many times, and I'll say it again here - I receive more questions and comments about Sanders than I do about Jameson, Tate, or Ang, combined. Out of three books, a quarter of a million words, there are only two times we see Sanders' POV - the prologue for Separation, and ONCE in Reparation. That's it. Yet he is hands-down the favorite.
And people are repeatedly, over and over, asking for his story.
er ...., what story?
Not that I haven't thought about it - I virtually never stop thinking about all of them. It is becoming somewhat of a problem.
But the issue that I don't think anyone realizes is this -
A lot of what makes Sanders so captivating are his interactions with Jameson and Tate. The way he plays off of them and with them. But in Sanders' story, there most likely wouldn't be a whole lot of Jameson and Tate, cause let's face it, Jameson has trouble not being the center of attention.
And even then, another thing I think people forget -
Sanders isn't entirely "normal", he doesn't think like you or I. Re-read the prologue to Separation, and then try to imagine reading an entire novel - 80,000 words, at least - like that.
Sanders isn't really a big fan of contractions.
It doesn't flow particularly well, it reads ..., well, like Sanders. A little uptight. A little nervous. A little technical. Reading in Sanders-speak is a little like reading a textbook. Very intelligent, and very dry, and very unemotional.
A whole book like that?
And I can't change him, I can't change what makes him him, I just can't. And I would hate to put out a book that people might not like, because it's not just a book, it's Sanders' book.
Frankly, I'd rather never release one than risk people not liking it - he is that special to me.
I may or may not write his story. If I do decide to write it, I probably won't say anything until it's completely finished to my satisfaction.
So I am very sorry, for everyone who wants more Sanders. But my desire to bring you the best that he has to give, outweighs the overwhelming urge to deliver his story to everyone asking for it.
But y'all will be the first to know if I ever have a finished product, I promise.
No, no, no, no, no - I love Sanders. I love him so much, and I am still so shocked - beyond shocked - at the reception he has received. At the fan base HE has built. No me - him. All him. It's amazing.
I never imagined when I wrote him that he would steal as many hearts as he has; that he would steal the show as much as he has. I have said it many times, and I'll say it again here - I receive more questions and comments about Sanders than I do about Jameson, Tate, or Ang, combined. Out of three books, a quarter of a million words, there are only two times we see Sanders' POV - the prologue for Separation, and ONCE in Reparation. That's it. Yet he is hands-down the favorite.
And people are repeatedly, over and over, asking for his story.
er ...., what story?
Not that I haven't thought about it - I virtually never stop thinking about all of them. It is becoming somewhat of a problem.
But the issue that I don't think anyone realizes is this -
A lot of what makes Sanders so captivating are his interactions with Jameson and Tate. The way he plays off of them and with them. But in Sanders' story, there most likely wouldn't be a whole lot of Jameson and Tate, cause let's face it, Jameson has trouble not being the center of attention.
And even then, another thing I think people forget -
Sanders isn't entirely "normal", he doesn't think like you or I. Re-read the prologue to Separation, and then try to imagine reading an entire novel - 80,000 words, at least - like that.
Sanders isn't really a big fan of contractions.
It doesn't flow particularly well, it reads ..., well, like Sanders. A little uptight. A little nervous. A little technical. Reading in Sanders-speak is a little like reading a textbook. Very intelligent, and very dry, and very unemotional.
A whole book like that?
And I can't change him, I can't change what makes him him, I just can't. And I would hate to put out a book that people might not like, because it's not just a book, it's Sanders' book.
Frankly, I'd rather never release one than risk people not liking it - he is that special to me.
I may or may not write his story. If I do decide to write it, I probably won't say anything until it's completely finished to my satisfaction.
So I am very sorry, for everyone who wants more Sanders. But my desire to bring you the best that he has to give, outweighs the overwhelming urge to deliver his story to everyone asking for it.
But y'all will be the first to know if I ever have a finished product, I promise.
November 3, 2014
Please, Explain To Me ...
So there's something I don't get. Not good, not bad, I just genuinely don't understand the thought process behind it.
Why keep reading books you don't like?
Once again, I will keep it real with y'all - I was not a fan of This Man. I KNOW I am in a minority. That doesn't make it a bad book in any way, shape, or form. I personally did not care for the story, nothing against Ms. Malpas' writing abilities or anything like that, clearly she is a very good writer and has done very well for herself.
Since I didn't care for it, and I had looked up reviews for the next books to get a feel, I decided against reading them. Again, PERSONAL CHOICE, this doesn't say ANYTHING about the books themselves. But since I didn't particularly like the first book, why would I waste time, money, and energy on books two and three?
Por qoi, people, por qoi?
And even then, even if I decided "what the hell, I need to see how the story ends", cause I can understand the want to know how something ends, I would recognize that it was MY CHOICE, I knowingly went into a book that I was 90% sure I wouldn't like, and thus wouldn't rate it if it turned out my hunches were true.
I have discovered that quite a few people don't operate this way, and it confuses me.
I have seen it with my books, and with lots of other books. People post scathing reviews about how boring they found a book, or how much they detested them, AND THEN go on to add the other books to their TBRs and rate and review them poorly. It's literally saying "hey, I didn't like this at all, so y'know what? I'm gonna read more!"
Sounds like going to the dentist and then scheduling an appointment for the next day, just so you could double check that it's still an unpleasant experience.
QOI? Do people feel it is their duty to warn others away from a book?
Sorry if this offends anybody, but I'm just ..., confused, I guess. I see someone rate a book with a 1-star, then immediately start reading book two, and give it a 1-star, as well. I almost wanna ask "are you mad at the book and author, so you just want to give them both bad ratings?"
It turns me into a baby, a complete eight-year-old, "but that's not fair, YOU KNOW you're not going to like it!" I would never do that to a book or an author.
And to be quite frank, I don't have the time for it.
Why keep reading books you don't like?
Once again, I will keep it real with y'all - I was not a fan of This Man. I KNOW I am in a minority. That doesn't make it a bad book in any way, shape, or form. I personally did not care for the story, nothing against Ms. Malpas' writing abilities or anything like that, clearly she is a very good writer and has done very well for herself.
Since I didn't care for it, and I had looked up reviews for the next books to get a feel, I decided against reading them. Again, PERSONAL CHOICE, this doesn't say ANYTHING about the books themselves. But since I didn't particularly like the first book, why would I waste time, money, and energy on books two and three?
Por qoi, people, por qoi?
And even then, even if I decided "what the hell, I need to see how the story ends", cause I can understand the want to know how something ends, I would recognize that it was MY CHOICE, I knowingly went into a book that I was 90% sure I wouldn't like, and thus wouldn't rate it if it turned out my hunches were true.
I have discovered that quite a few people don't operate this way, and it confuses me.
I have seen it with my books, and with lots of other books. People post scathing reviews about how boring they found a book, or how much they detested them, AND THEN go on to add the other books to their TBRs and rate and review them poorly. It's literally saying "hey, I didn't like this at all, so y'know what? I'm gonna read more!"
Sounds like going to the dentist and then scheduling an appointment for the next day, just so you could double check that it's still an unpleasant experience.
QOI? Do people feel it is their duty to warn others away from a book?
Sorry if this offends anybody, but I'm just ..., confused, I guess. I see someone rate a book with a 1-star, then immediately start reading book two, and give it a 1-star, as well. I almost wanna ask "are you mad at the book and author, so you just want to give them both bad ratings?"
It turns me into a baby, a complete eight-year-old, "but that's not fair, YOU KNOW you're not going to like it!" I would never do that to a book or an author.
And to be quite frank, I don't have the time for it.
October 27, 2014
Come One, Come All, To The Blogger Beat Down!
I don't even have the energy to do this, because I'm so over the craziness of the day.
I just ..., I don't get it. Why do people always constantly feel the need to be telling other people what to do? I'm a bossy bitch, but goddamn, I ain't got time to be telling people on the internet that I haven't ever met how they should or shouldn't be behaving.
So if some blogs want to do a blackout to remind us all of the power they hold, then FINE. It's just a few days! As big of a bummer as that is, seeing bloggers shun authors because of one crazy lady's actions, it's been an even bigger bummer watching other blogs and authors get down right nasty.
All the blogs that I have seen saying they're going to be doing the blackout have been polite, nice, apologetic - explaining that this is something they feel they need to do reestablish the boundaries between author and blog. Which is THEIR choice.
But the blogs and authors I've seen speak against it, a lot of them have gotten kind of mean - "I'll make note of who is participating," "I think all of this is stupid and those blogs are being stupid!", "I'm glad at least some certain blogs still have my back and won't participate!"
Jesus, when did every fucking thing in the book-world become specifically about the person who is reading about it!? I think it's fascinating to watch how many authors have taken it personally, like these blogs called them at home and said "sorry, we're not gonna post about YOU, but we're still helping everyone else."
Do I think the blogger blackout is fair? No. Do I think they have a right to do it? Yes. If some crazy fucking bitch stalked me and showed up at my house, would I probably want to do my own form of a blackout? You bet your ass.
I really do think the boundaries between blogger and author gets blurry. We all cross lines. My street team is mainly comprised of bloggers, and there are bloggers I have met along the way that I genuinely consider friends - not just people I talk to online, but people I would invite into my home or my life, EVEN if they showed up unannounced and uninvited.
For example - Taylor is a friend of mine, my brain twinsie, a woman I know I could probably message at 2am with a question about what the fat content is in an avocado (sometimes you need to know!), and she'd probably answer. I can ask her anything, talk to her about anything.
HOWEVER, Trina and Taylor's Bedtime Stories book blog is a completely separate entity and I never message or harass or cajole them. I respect them as a blog, I follow their posts, and interact with their page as an author interested in what they're posting.
See the difference?
I never EVER forget that bloggers have their own job to do - I never ask those in my ST to post especially for me, I never instruct them how to review or what kind of reviews to leave, I never send repeat messages, and I never EVER make demands. Why would I want to piss off the people that promote me for free!? If they have time, they'll get to it. If they don't, then I have to accept that - pissing someone off never got anyone a friend!
For us smaller-time indie authors, blogs really can make or break us. There are lots of authors who were once something, and then pissed off a big blog, and now ... crickets. Eeesh.
Anyone can write a book. ANYONE. Doesn't mean it will be good, but anyone can do it - if you can speak a language, you can write a book. So I am no more special than any other person out there - I just happened to hit publish. THAT'S IT. I think a lot of authors forget that, and start to think that blogs owe US something.
Well, I never forget that I wouldn't be here - I wouldn't exist as an author - if it weren't for blogs. Not even a little bit. Not at all.
So if y'all wanna blackout for a couple days and remind of all of us that maybe, just maybe, you're as important to this industry as we are (duh), I say do what you need to do. Go for it.
And I will be here when you get back, with the exact same feelings as I had before you left.
Respect for fellow book lovers.
Cause in the end, that's all any of us are.
I just ..., I don't get it. Why do people always constantly feel the need to be telling other people what to do? I'm a bossy bitch, but goddamn, I ain't got time to be telling people on the internet that I haven't ever met how they should or shouldn't be behaving.
So if some blogs want to do a blackout to remind us all of the power they hold, then FINE. It's just a few days! As big of a bummer as that is, seeing bloggers shun authors because of one crazy lady's actions, it's been an even bigger bummer watching other blogs and authors get down right nasty.
All the blogs that I have seen saying they're going to be doing the blackout have been polite, nice, apologetic - explaining that this is something they feel they need to do reestablish the boundaries between author and blog. Which is THEIR choice.
But the blogs and authors I've seen speak against it, a lot of them have gotten kind of mean - "I'll make note of who is participating," "I think all of this is stupid and those blogs are being stupid!", "I'm glad at least some certain blogs still have my back and won't participate!"
Jesus, when did every fucking thing in the book-world become specifically about the person who is reading about it!? I think it's fascinating to watch how many authors have taken it personally, like these blogs called them at home and said "sorry, we're not gonna post about YOU, but we're still helping everyone else."
Do I think the blogger blackout is fair? No. Do I think they have a right to do it? Yes. If some crazy fucking bitch stalked me and showed up at my house, would I probably want to do my own form of a blackout? You bet your ass.
I really do think the boundaries between blogger and author gets blurry. We all cross lines. My street team is mainly comprised of bloggers, and there are bloggers I have met along the way that I genuinely consider friends - not just people I talk to online, but people I would invite into my home or my life, EVEN if they showed up unannounced and uninvited.
For example - Taylor is a friend of mine, my brain twinsie, a woman I know I could probably message at 2am with a question about what the fat content is in an avocado (sometimes you need to know!), and she'd probably answer. I can ask her anything, talk to her about anything.
HOWEVER, Trina and Taylor's Bedtime Stories book blog is a completely separate entity and I never message or harass or cajole them. I respect them as a blog, I follow their posts, and interact with their page as an author interested in what they're posting.
See the difference?
I never EVER forget that bloggers have their own job to do - I never ask those in my ST to post especially for me, I never instruct them how to review or what kind of reviews to leave, I never send repeat messages, and I never EVER make demands. Why would I want to piss off the people that promote me for free!? If they have time, they'll get to it. If they don't, then I have to accept that - pissing someone off never got anyone a friend!
For us smaller-time indie authors, blogs really can make or break us. There are lots of authors who were once something, and then pissed off a big blog, and now ... crickets. Eeesh.
Anyone can write a book. ANYONE. Doesn't mean it will be good, but anyone can do it - if you can speak a language, you can write a book. So I am no more special than any other person out there - I just happened to hit publish. THAT'S IT. I think a lot of authors forget that, and start to think that blogs owe US something.
Well, I never forget that I wouldn't be here - I wouldn't exist as an author - if it weren't for blogs. Not even a little bit. Not at all.
So if y'all wanna blackout for a couple days and remind of all of us that maybe, just maybe, you're as important to this industry as we are (duh), I say do what you need to do. Go for it.
And I will be here when you get back, with the exact same feelings as I had before you left.
Respect for fellow book lovers.
Cause in the end, that's all any of us are.
October 20, 2014
Where Do I Go After This?
So, for once in my life, I am actually done ahead of schedule! ARCs of Reparation are pretty much ready to go, which is awesome - now just working on small stuff. Work on the soundtrack a little. Realized I couldn't have this series without "Wicked Games" by Chris Isaak - it's practically the theme song for the whole series!
Endings are bittersweet. I love Jameson. I love Sanders. And this is the end. There is a lot of demand for Sanders' story, and I've had murky thoughts regarding Ang's story, and also for a possible novella/epilogue/thingy. But nothing definite, nothing I've "committed" to. Nothing I can put a guarantee on. So for all intent and purposes, Reparation is THE END.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MYSELF!?
And that's the fear. In its own way, Degradation has done fairly well for a debut novel (STILL in the top 100 for Erotica!!! OH MY GEEZY I CAN'T GET OVER THAT!). In fact, it's part of what made me so nervous about Separation - that's a big first book to live up to. And I think Reparation is pretty good (I may be bias, ha ha) as well.
Can I do it again? Degradation - for me - was almost magical. Can I capture that again? I don't know. I don't want to be a one-hit(ish)-wonder.
But I also don't want to be one of those authors that only has one story to tell. That's fine and dandy for them, maybe they've only got that one set of characters rumbling around in their brain. But not me. I've got loads.
Did y'all know I used to strictly write paranormal? Yup.
So who knows. Maybe you'll hate what comes next. Maybe no man will ever be as good as Jameson (he'd like to believe that). Maybe I should quit while I'm ahead(ish).
But I think I'll keep going. I hope none of you are sick of me, cause I've got a lot of ideas rattling around up here - some industrial espionage, some asylum love, some FBI-stalker-drama, some Russian mafia, some voyeurism. It all demands release and attention, so I'm going to do my best to get it out there.
Will any of it be as "good" as Degradation? Who knows. But I think I've decided I don't care. It's apples and oranges. Different strokes for different folks. Incomparable.
I hope you all like Reparation. And I hope you like what comes next.
And who knows ... maybe when I'm more confident in my writing abilities, I'll go back to that Sanders storyline I started.
Wait, you didn't hear that ... (but I will say he won't be in Jameson's shadow for much longer)
Endings are bittersweet. I love Jameson. I love Sanders. And this is the end. There is a lot of demand for Sanders' story, and I've had murky thoughts regarding Ang's story, and also for a possible novella/epilogue/thingy. But nothing definite, nothing I've "committed" to. Nothing I can put a guarantee on. So for all intent and purposes, Reparation is THE END.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MYSELF!?
And that's the fear. In its own way, Degradation has done fairly well for a debut novel (STILL in the top 100 for Erotica!!! OH MY GEEZY I CAN'T GET OVER THAT!). In fact, it's part of what made me so nervous about Separation - that's a big first book to live up to. And I think Reparation is pretty good (I may be bias, ha ha) as well.
Can I do it again? Degradation - for me - was almost magical. Can I capture that again? I don't know. I don't want to be a one-hit(ish)-wonder.
But I also don't want to be one of those authors that only has one story to tell. That's fine and dandy for them, maybe they've only got that one set of characters rumbling around in their brain. But not me. I've got loads.
Did y'all know I used to strictly write paranormal? Yup.
So who knows. Maybe you'll hate what comes next. Maybe no man will ever be as good as Jameson (he'd like to believe that). Maybe I should quit while I'm ahead(ish).
But I think I'll keep going. I hope none of you are sick of me, cause I've got a lot of ideas rattling around up here - some industrial espionage, some asylum love, some FBI-stalker-drama, some Russian mafia, some voyeurism. It all demands release and attention, so I'm going to do my best to get it out there.
Will any of it be as "good" as Degradation? Who knows. But I think I've decided I don't care. It's apples and oranges. Different strokes for different folks. Incomparable.
I hope you all like Reparation. And I hope you like what comes next.
And who knows ... maybe when I'm more confident in my writing abilities, I'll go back to that Sanders storyline I started.
Wait, you didn't hear that ... (but I will say he won't be in Jameson's shadow for much longer)
October 17, 2014
Help Wanted: Looking for a Strong Yet Loveable Alpha Male, and a Feisty Yet Vulnerable Female. Apply Within.
I totally forgot to due a blog post on Monday! But in my defense, I got up at 7:30am, went shopping for my dad, went to his dialysis treatments, then drove from Portland to Seattle, and then flew from Seattle to Alaska, getting home around midnight. I was not functioning too well, hahaha.
So. Guess who stayed up last night till 2:00am watching Z Nation (not necessarily good but surprisingly addictive!) and finishing all the proofread edits for her book!? THIS CHICA! Now all I have to do is rewrite one scene, and DONE!
Unfortunately, I can't offer an excerpt of Reparation at this time. I don't have one picked out, nor can I really think of a scene that could tantalize but not spoil, but I am cooking something special up for excerpts *hopefully*
HOWEVER - I do have a Work In Progress. Would anyone like to see if any of my other writing is worth anything?
I started on this a while ago, but then had to set it aside to publish Separation and to start edits on Reparation. I only ever really work on one story at a time. I have no idea when it will be completed. This is also completely unedited.
This is a little ways into the book - our heroine is working nights at a strip club, as a waitress. Our male lead is a customer. Over the course of a couple months, they have developed a friendship ... of sorts. This scene is when that friendship begins to shift to something else. Let me know what you think!
WARNING: Do not continue if coarse language or scenes of a graphic, sexual nature disturb you. All works are the sole property of Stylo Fantome - Copyright © 2014
UNTITLED
Dani didn't understand the power he had over her, to get her to do anything he wanted. About ninety-nine percent of the time, he would show up at the Pussycat Princess, and they just hang out. Talk. But that other one percent of the time, it was like ..., like he just knew he could make her do stuff. Like he knew he had some super power that made it possible for him to hypnotize her. He rarely ever used it, but when he did, he made it count.
“I don't want to be in here,” Dani stated one night. She'd been watching the shows for a week with him, and so far, they'd all been tame. A little spicier than the strip shows on stage; the girls in the Show Room got completely naked, rubbed on the mirrors, touched themselves. Masturbated. But that night, it was clear things were going to go farther. When the girl carried a bag into the room, Dani just knew. It wasn't going to be the same old show.
“You've sat through a lot of these shows, what's the big deal?” he asked, not looking at her as he dug around in a large paper bag. He always brought dinner in for both of them.
“She's going to ..., I just can't. I'm sorry,” Dani started to pace around the room. Soft, jazzy music began to filter in through a speaker. “I know this is, like, your thing, or whatever, but ..., it's not mine. I hate it in here.”
“You hate it in here?” he sounded surprised as he finally looked up. She nodded, wringing her hands.
“I do. It's gross, and dark, and dirty, and disgusting, and ..., and I hate it! How can you be in here, every night!?” she snapped at him, finally losing it a little. He looked shocked.
“Hey, you work here,” he pointed out.
“To pay my bills. Why are you here!? It's disgusting, I can't even -,” Dani was very aware that she was babbling. But weeks of watching him watch other women was finally catching up to her. A week of watching him stare at a naked woman on the other side of the glass, when she would gladly get naked for him right there. In that moment, she hated him almost as much as she hated herself.
“Hey, hey,” his voice was soft and he reached out, grabbing her by the wrists. It was the second time he had ever touched her. He pulled her to a stop, forced her to look at him. “I don't force you to stay in here. You're free to go.” She glared down at him.
“Fine then, I'll go,” she snapped, moving to step away. He held fast to her wrists.
“But first, tell me why you think it's disgusting,” he added. She guffawed at him.
“Are you joking!? You're a grown man, twenty-seven years old, and you spend every night in a strip club!” she pointed out. He shook his head.
“That wasn't a problem yesterday.”
“Maybe it was,” she countered.
“No. Why do you think what goes on in that room is digusting?” he asked again. She began to shake with the amount of tension running through her body. She didn't want him to be touching her anymore.
I want him to touch me everywhere.
“Because it just is. The things ..., the things they make them do,” Dani tried to explain. Caed shook his head.
“Nobody makes them do anything – they can leave. They can turn down any offers they get. All they really have to do is dance, and that's it,” Caed reminded her. Dani rubbed her lips together, looked around the room. Anywhere but at him.
“It's embarrassing,” she said softly.
“Ah, see, that's what I thought. Why does it embarrass you?” he pressed.
“I don't know.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“No.”
“So someone out there has seen you naked,” he clarified.
“Yes.”
“So why is it embarrassing for her to be naked?” he asked, slowly standing up. She kept her eyes trained on his collar.
“It's just ..., it's embarrassing for me to see her naked. To see her, with you,” she whispered. Caed chuckled and her heart skipped a beat. She knew what was coming. That voice. The voice that could make her do anything. She closed her eyes.
“Pussycat,” he laughed, his voice low as he slowly turned her around. His hands moved to her shoulders, held her in place. “Open your eyes.”
Dani opened her eyes. The woman in the room was stretched across the loveseat, a various assortment of toys strewn about the floor beneath her. She wasn't using any of them, yet. Dani took a deep breath and then felt Caed pull her back into him, so she was pressed against him.
“Why do you make me do this?” she whispered.
“I don't make you do anything,” he whispered back.
“You do. You can make me do anything,” she replied. Another chuckle and his fingers began to massage her skin.
“Good to know. Look at her. Isn't she beautiful?” he asked.
Dani's eyes wandered over the woman in the room. She knew the stripper, a single mother named Clary. Stage name Clarissa. She wore too much make up, used bad wigs, and had a smoker's cough. She was probably past the prime age for stripping.
But still. There was ..., something. She looked ..., free. There was an abandonment to her face, to the way her limbs were sprawled across the velvet, that looked so comfortable. So unburdened. Dani had never known that feeling. Too young, too self-conscious. Clary was light years ahead of her.
“She is beautiful,” Dani agreed with him. Caed began pulling them backwards and then he sank down in his chair.
“Doesn't she look like she's enjoying herself?” he continued, his hands sliding onto her hips. Dani stopped breathing as he pulled her into his lap.
“Yes,” she breathed. Clary had picked up a sizable vibrator, was now thrusting it in and out of herself. The pleasure on her face was obvious.
“Would you enjoy that?” Caed's voice was just a dark suggestion behind her.
“No,” Dani shook her head. He laughed and stretched his arms out along side her legs, rested his palms against her thighs.
“You don't own a vibrator?”
She felt a blush race across her face.
You don't have to answer him.
“Well, I mean ..., I wouldn't enjoy doing that in front of other people,” she stuttered. Caed laughed again, massaging his hands up her legs.
“You wouldn't? What if I asked you to?”
“No, not even then. I would never go in that room.”
“What if I asked you to do it just for me?” his lips were against her head, dripping poison into her ear. She squirmed on top of his lap, very uncomfortable. Very turned on.
“I ..., I don't know,” she managed to answer. His hypnotic powers had their limits, it seemed. She couldn't lie, but she didn't need to surrender completely. At least, not yet.
“Shari-not-Shari,” he laughed, scratching lightly as his hands worked their way under her skirt. “I think you have a crush on me.”
More blushing, but luckily she didn't have to answer him immediately. Once again, all the breath left her body as his fingers dipped between her thighs, his hands slowly spreading her legs open. Massaging the sensitive flesh there.
“You don't even know my name,” she whispered.
“I don't need to know your name, I already know everything about you. Pay attention,” Caed instructed, and Dani focused on the pink room. Clary was now on all fours, and seemed to have various objects in just about every usable orifice.
“I'm watching,” Dani assured him. His fingers worked farther up her legs.
“I think you like watching,” he told her. She shook her head.
“I don't. I really don't,” she replied.
Then why don't you close your eyes?
“Hmmm, for some reason, I don't believe you. So tell me, pussycat, how long have you had a thing for me?” he asked. Dani took a deep breath.
“Since the first time I saw you,” she answered truthfully.
“And when was that?”
“You came in with a bachelor party. You didn't notice, but I was one of the servers at your table.”
“I noticed.”
“You didn't.”
“Why do you think I came back?”
Dani was shocked, though she wasn't sure which got to her first, his words, or his fingers. He was at the V in her legs, his fingers pressing down and tracing along the edge of the booty shorts she wore under her skirt. Her eyelids finally fluttered closed.
You should stop him. You don't have to do this, he's nothing to you. You're nothing to him. He doesn't even know your name.
“Because you like strip clubs?” she managed a guess. His fingers worked higher, pressing under the material of the shorts.
“They're okay.”
“This room costs $250 a night, you must like it better than okay,” she replied.
“I told you, I like the company here. Are you watching?” he asked, at the same time his fingers encountered the outline of her underwear.
He doesn't even know your name.
“I can't,” she said, squirming under his touch. Under his power.
“There's a man in the room now,” he whispered, his lips pressed to her ear.
“There is?” she asked, digging her fingernails into the armrests. His own fingers dug into her fishnets, worked between the lines.
“Yes. Do you want to know what he's doing?” Caed asked.
No.
“Yes.”
“He's taking off his belt. She's crawling towards him. Don't you think that's sexy? I always thought that was sexy,” his voice was casual, as if he was describing a movie. As if his fingers weren't tickling at the sides of her panties. She leaned her head back, rested it against his shoulder.
“It sounds sexy,” Dani panted.
“I think you like this,” Caed laughed, his nose brushing against her ear.
“I don't.”
“Really? She's unzipping his pants now, pulling them down. Oh, he's wearing boxers. So out-dated.”
Dani almost laughed at that one.
“What do you wear?” she asked.
“That's awfully personal,” he teased.
“Are you serious?”
“Now she's stroking his cock.”
Whoever this Caedmon was, he knew what he was doing. He knew how to shock her and distract her from the shock, all at once, making it impossible for her to keep track of what was going on or what was going to happen next. She was shocked at the sudden vulgarity, but before she could even react, his fingers were under her panties. Touching her. Stroking her. Moving her.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
He doesn't know my name. We've never even kissed. His finger is inside of me.
“She's taking him in her mouth. All the way to the base. Talented. Have you ever given a blow job?” Caed asked the question like he was asking the time. She licked her lips.
“Yes.”
“Hmmm, spit or swallow?”
God, don't answer that.
“Spit,” she, of course, answered him.
“Typical. I bet this woman doesn't. I bet she swallows it all,” Caed replied, his fingers moving faster. Dani had trouble breathing.
“She will, she's told me,” Dani breathed. Caed snorted.
“Spoiler alert, thanks. She's moving anyway. Getting on her hands and knees.”
“What's he doing?”
“Getting on his knees behind her. Pressing her head down to the ground. Do you like it from behind?” he asked, his voice casual, once again.
“I ..., I ...,” she couldn't manage a full sentence. A full thought.
I love it. Put me on my on knees. Press me into the ground. Anything you want. Everything you want.
“Oh, she likes it. We can't hear, but it looks like she's being very loud. He's spanking her. Do you like getting spanked?” Caed asked, his face moving along side hers. She kept her eyes closed and turned towards him.
“No, not really,” she answered honestly, really beginning to squirm on top of him. She was shivering all over, her whole body reacting to what he was doing. She'd never had that feeling before, with a man. Only with herself.
“Hmmm, we'll see about that,” he chuckled, his forehead pressing against hers. “He's really fucking her now.”
“Holy shit,” Dani hissed, a tremor ripping through her body.
“He's holding her by the hips, pulling her back into him. I wonder who will come first, you or her,” Caed wondered out loud.
Dani had never come with a man, ever. She'd had sex with three men in her entire life, and there had been lots of boyfriends who had managed to get their hands in her panties, but none had ever gotten an orgasm out of her. Caedmon Llewyn, a man who didn't even know her name, was about to become the first.
“Please,” she whined, not even knowing why she was begging.
“Watch,” he suddenly growled, and his free hand was suddenly gripping her jaw, forcing her head forward. She opened her eyes, took in the sight before her.
Clary was, in fact, on her knees. There was a man in a mask behind her, thrusting away. Cheesy, overly-sexy music was all she could hear, but Dani didn't doubt that Clary was moaning and shrieking. Her mouth was wide open, her face red, one of her hands clawing at the ground. The other hand squeezing her own breast.
Dani had never watched other people have sex before, had never even thought to look into it. Had never thought about it, period.
It was the single most erotic thing she had ever witnessed.
Caed got the answer to his question pretty quickly. He was just working a second finger inside of her when she shook apart. She gasped and cried out, throwing her head back against him, squeezing her eyes shut tight. The hand he had around her jaw moved then, sliding over the satin of her shirt, cupping her breast. She came even harder, squeezing her legs together, trapping his hand in between her thighs.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he whispered in her ear.
She wanted it to last forever. She wanted to cry. She wanted to sing. This man, it was like he had a direct line to her heart. She didn't understand it, didn't know what it was about him. But it was something. Something big. Something she couldn't ignore.
Do I even believe in love at first sight?
Dani let her whole body relax against him, as she gasped for air. The hand on her breast moved away, as did the hand in her underwear. She rubbed her lips together, trying to get control of her breathing as his fingers went back to massaging her thighs.
She wanted to say something. Do something. Move him the way he moved her. Shake his foundation, rattle his walls. Was she even capable of doing that to a man? She didn't know. It had never happened before, she had never tried. Had never wanted to try. But for Caedmon Llewyn, she'd be willing to try anything. Anything at all.
So. Guess who stayed up last night till 2:00am watching Z Nation (not necessarily good but surprisingly addictive!) and finishing all the proofread edits for her book!? THIS CHICA! Now all I have to do is rewrite one scene, and DONE!
Unfortunately, I can't offer an excerpt of Reparation at this time. I don't have one picked out, nor can I really think of a scene that could tantalize but not spoil, but I am cooking something special up for excerpts *hopefully*
HOWEVER - I do have a Work In Progress. Would anyone like to see if any of my other writing is worth anything?
I started on this a while ago, but then had to set it aside to publish Separation and to start edits on Reparation. I only ever really work on one story at a time. I have no idea when it will be completed. This is also completely unedited.
This is a little ways into the book - our heroine is working nights at a strip club, as a waitress. Our male lead is a customer. Over the course of a couple months, they have developed a friendship ... of sorts. This scene is when that friendship begins to shift to something else. Let me know what you think!
WARNING: Do not continue if coarse language or scenes of a graphic, sexual nature disturb you. All works are the sole property of Stylo Fantome - Copyright © 2014
UNTITLED
Dani didn't understand the power he had over her, to get her to do anything he wanted. About ninety-nine percent of the time, he would show up at the Pussycat Princess, and they just hang out. Talk. But that other one percent of the time, it was like ..., like he just knew he could make her do stuff. Like he knew he had some super power that made it possible for him to hypnotize her. He rarely ever used it, but when he did, he made it count.
“I don't want to be in here,” Dani stated one night. She'd been watching the shows for a week with him, and so far, they'd all been tame. A little spicier than the strip shows on stage; the girls in the Show Room got completely naked, rubbed on the mirrors, touched themselves. Masturbated. But that night, it was clear things were going to go farther. When the girl carried a bag into the room, Dani just knew. It wasn't going to be the same old show.
“You've sat through a lot of these shows, what's the big deal?” he asked, not looking at her as he dug around in a large paper bag. He always brought dinner in for both of them.
“She's going to ..., I just can't. I'm sorry,” Dani started to pace around the room. Soft, jazzy music began to filter in through a speaker. “I know this is, like, your thing, or whatever, but ..., it's not mine. I hate it in here.”
“You hate it in here?” he sounded surprised as he finally looked up. She nodded, wringing her hands.
“I do. It's gross, and dark, and dirty, and disgusting, and ..., and I hate it! How can you be in here, every night!?” she snapped at him, finally losing it a little. He looked shocked.
“Hey, you work here,” he pointed out.
“To pay my bills. Why are you here!? It's disgusting, I can't even -,” Dani was very aware that she was babbling. But weeks of watching him watch other women was finally catching up to her. A week of watching him stare at a naked woman on the other side of the glass, when she would gladly get naked for him right there. In that moment, she hated him almost as much as she hated herself.
“Hey, hey,” his voice was soft and he reached out, grabbing her by the wrists. It was the second time he had ever touched her. He pulled her to a stop, forced her to look at him. “I don't force you to stay in here. You're free to go.” She glared down at him.
“Fine then, I'll go,” she snapped, moving to step away. He held fast to her wrists.
“But first, tell me why you think it's disgusting,” he added. She guffawed at him.
“Are you joking!? You're a grown man, twenty-seven years old, and you spend every night in a strip club!” she pointed out. He shook his head.
“That wasn't a problem yesterday.”
“Maybe it was,” she countered.
“No. Why do you think what goes on in that room is digusting?” he asked again. She began to shake with the amount of tension running through her body. She didn't want him to be touching her anymore.
I want him to touch me everywhere.
“Because it just is. The things ..., the things they make them do,” Dani tried to explain. Caed shook his head.
“Nobody makes them do anything – they can leave. They can turn down any offers they get. All they really have to do is dance, and that's it,” Caed reminded her. Dani rubbed her lips together, looked around the room. Anywhere but at him.
“It's embarrassing,” she said softly.
“Ah, see, that's what I thought. Why does it embarrass you?” he pressed.
“I don't know.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“No.”
“So someone out there has seen you naked,” he clarified.
“Yes.”
“So why is it embarrassing for her to be naked?” he asked, slowly standing up. She kept her eyes trained on his collar.
“It's just ..., it's embarrassing for me to see her naked. To see her, with you,” she whispered. Caed chuckled and her heart skipped a beat. She knew what was coming. That voice. The voice that could make her do anything. She closed her eyes.
“Pussycat,” he laughed, his voice low as he slowly turned her around. His hands moved to her shoulders, held her in place. “Open your eyes.”
Dani opened her eyes. The woman in the room was stretched across the loveseat, a various assortment of toys strewn about the floor beneath her. She wasn't using any of them, yet. Dani took a deep breath and then felt Caed pull her back into him, so she was pressed against him.
“Why do you make me do this?” she whispered.
“I don't make you do anything,” he whispered back.
“You do. You can make me do anything,” she replied. Another chuckle and his fingers began to massage her skin.
“Good to know. Look at her. Isn't she beautiful?” he asked.
Dani's eyes wandered over the woman in the room. She knew the stripper, a single mother named Clary. Stage name Clarissa. She wore too much make up, used bad wigs, and had a smoker's cough. She was probably past the prime age for stripping.
But still. There was ..., something. She looked ..., free. There was an abandonment to her face, to the way her limbs were sprawled across the velvet, that looked so comfortable. So unburdened. Dani had never known that feeling. Too young, too self-conscious. Clary was light years ahead of her.
“She is beautiful,” Dani agreed with him. Caed began pulling them backwards and then he sank down in his chair.
“Doesn't she look like she's enjoying herself?” he continued, his hands sliding onto her hips. Dani stopped breathing as he pulled her into his lap.
“Yes,” she breathed. Clary had picked up a sizable vibrator, was now thrusting it in and out of herself. The pleasure on her face was obvious.
“Would you enjoy that?” Caed's voice was just a dark suggestion behind her.
“No,” Dani shook her head. He laughed and stretched his arms out along side her legs, rested his palms against her thighs.
“You don't own a vibrator?”
She felt a blush race across her face.
You don't have to answer him.
“Well, I mean ..., I wouldn't enjoy doing that in front of other people,” she stuttered. Caed laughed again, massaging his hands up her legs.
“You wouldn't? What if I asked you to?”
“No, not even then. I would never go in that room.”
“What if I asked you to do it just for me?” his lips were against her head, dripping poison into her ear. She squirmed on top of his lap, very uncomfortable. Very turned on.
“I ..., I don't know,” she managed to answer. His hypnotic powers had their limits, it seemed. She couldn't lie, but she didn't need to surrender completely. At least, not yet.
“Shari-not-Shari,” he laughed, scratching lightly as his hands worked their way under her skirt. “I think you have a crush on me.”
More blushing, but luckily she didn't have to answer him immediately. Once again, all the breath left her body as his fingers dipped between her thighs, his hands slowly spreading her legs open. Massaging the sensitive flesh there.
“You don't even know my name,” she whispered.
“I don't need to know your name, I already know everything about you. Pay attention,” Caed instructed, and Dani focused on the pink room. Clary was now on all fours, and seemed to have various objects in just about every usable orifice.
“I'm watching,” Dani assured him. His fingers worked farther up her legs.
“I think you like watching,” he told her. She shook her head.
“I don't. I really don't,” she replied.
Then why don't you close your eyes?
“Hmmm, for some reason, I don't believe you. So tell me, pussycat, how long have you had a thing for me?” he asked. Dani took a deep breath.
“Since the first time I saw you,” she answered truthfully.
“And when was that?”
“You came in with a bachelor party. You didn't notice, but I was one of the servers at your table.”
“I noticed.”
“You didn't.”
“Why do you think I came back?”
Dani was shocked, though she wasn't sure which got to her first, his words, or his fingers. He was at the V in her legs, his fingers pressing down and tracing along the edge of the booty shorts she wore under her skirt. Her eyelids finally fluttered closed.
You should stop him. You don't have to do this, he's nothing to you. You're nothing to him. He doesn't even know your name.
“Because you like strip clubs?” she managed a guess. His fingers worked higher, pressing under the material of the shorts.
“They're okay.”
“This room costs $250 a night, you must like it better than okay,” she replied.
“I told you, I like the company here. Are you watching?” he asked, at the same time his fingers encountered the outline of her underwear.
He doesn't even know your name.
“I can't,” she said, squirming under his touch. Under his power.
“There's a man in the room now,” he whispered, his lips pressed to her ear.
“There is?” she asked, digging her fingernails into the armrests. His own fingers dug into her fishnets, worked between the lines.
“Yes. Do you want to know what he's doing?” Caed asked.
No.
“Yes.”
“He's taking off his belt. She's crawling towards him. Don't you think that's sexy? I always thought that was sexy,” his voice was casual, as if he was describing a movie. As if his fingers weren't tickling at the sides of her panties. She leaned her head back, rested it against his shoulder.
“It sounds sexy,” Dani panted.
“I think you like this,” Caed laughed, his nose brushing against her ear.
“I don't.”
“Really? She's unzipping his pants now, pulling them down. Oh, he's wearing boxers. So out-dated.”
Dani almost laughed at that one.
“What do you wear?” she asked.
“That's awfully personal,” he teased.
“Are you serious?”
“Now she's stroking his cock.”
Whoever this Caedmon was, he knew what he was doing. He knew how to shock her and distract her from the shock, all at once, making it impossible for her to keep track of what was going on or what was going to happen next. She was shocked at the sudden vulgarity, but before she could even react, his fingers were under her panties. Touching her. Stroking her. Moving her.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
He doesn't know my name. We've never even kissed. His finger is inside of me.
“She's taking him in her mouth. All the way to the base. Talented. Have you ever given a blow job?” Caed asked the question like he was asking the time. She licked her lips.
“Yes.”
“Hmmm, spit or swallow?”
God, don't answer that.
“Spit,” she, of course, answered him.
“Typical. I bet this woman doesn't. I bet she swallows it all,” Caed replied, his fingers moving faster. Dani had trouble breathing.
“She will, she's told me,” Dani breathed. Caed snorted.
“Spoiler alert, thanks. She's moving anyway. Getting on her hands and knees.”
“What's he doing?”
“Getting on his knees behind her. Pressing her head down to the ground. Do you like it from behind?” he asked, his voice casual, once again.
“I ..., I ...,” she couldn't manage a full sentence. A full thought.
I love it. Put me on my on knees. Press me into the ground. Anything you want. Everything you want.
“Oh, she likes it. We can't hear, but it looks like she's being very loud. He's spanking her. Do you like getting spanked?” Caed asked, his face moving along side hers. She kept her eyes closed and turned towards him.
“No, not really,” she answered honestly, really beginning to squirm on top of him. She was shivering all over, her whole body reacting to what he was doing. She'd never had that feeling before, with a man. Only with herself.
“Hmmm, we'll see about that,” he chuckled, his forehead pressing against hers. “He's really fucking her now.”
“Holy shit,” Dani hissed, a tremor ripping through her body.
“He's holding her by the hips, pulling her back into him. I wonder who will come first, you or her,” Caed wondered out loud.
Dani had never come with a man, ever. She'd had sex with three men in her entire life, and there had been lots of boyfriends who had managed to get their hands in her panties, but none had ever gotten an orgasm out of her. Caedmon Llewyn, a man who didn't even know her name, was about to become the first.
“Please,” she whined, not even knowing why she was begging.
“Watch,” he suddenly growled, and his free hand was suddenly gripping her jaw, forcing her head forward. She opened her eyes, took in the sight before her.
Clary was, in fact, on her knees. There was a man in a mask behind her, thrusting away. Cheesy, overly-sexy music was all she could hear, but Dani didn't doubt that Clary was moaning and shrieking. Her mouth was wide open, her face red, one of her hands clawing at the ground. The other hand squeezing her own breast.
Dani had never watched other people have sex before, had never even thought to look into it. Had never thought about it, period.
It was the single most erotic thing she had ever witnessed.
Caed got the answer to his question pretty quickly. He was just working a second finger inside of her when she shook apart. She gasped and cried out, throwing her head back against him, squeezing her eyes shut tight. The hand he had around her jaw moved then, sliding over the satin of her shirt, cupping her breast. She came even harder, squeezing her legs together, trapping his hand in between her thighs.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he whispered in her ear.
She wanted it to last forever. She wanted to cry. She wanted to sing. This man, it was like he had a direct line to her heart. She didn't understand it, didn't know what it was about him. But it was something. Something big. Something she couldn't ignore.
Do I even believe in love at first sight?
Dani let her whole body relax against him, as she gasped for air. The hand on her breast moved away, as did the hand in her underwear. She rubbed her lips together, trying to get control of her breathing as his fingers went back to massaging her thighs.
She wanted to say something. Do something. Move him the way he moved her. Shake his foundation, rattle his walls. Was she even capable of doing that to a man? She didn't know. It had never happened before, she had never tried. Had never wanted to try. But for Caedmon Llewyn, she'd be willing to try anything. Anything at all.
October 7, 2014
I Wish I Could Say I Did It All for You ...
So Reparation is on its way. It has been sent to beta-readers, and has gotten good feedback. It is with an editor right now, as well. One more set of rewrites and edits, and ARCs will be ready to go out.
Do to my amazing stalking abilities, I have seen people comment with things like "well, potential release date", or wondering if Sanders' prologue was just written because of "fan" interest in him from the first book.
I can tell you, Reparation will 110% be published on time. How do I know that? Because it's written. It's finished. Keeping a promise is important to me, and giving a release date is making a promise, in my opinion. I wouldn't have set that date if I didn't think I could make it, and I was able to set that date because why? The story was written.
Same with the Sanders prologue. I loved Sanders by the middle of writing Degradation. I already knew his backstory by the end of it - it demanded to be told, hence why it was the prologue to part two. I also knew he would be playing a much bigger part, so I wanted to get his story out there to explain some more about him and his ways.
I had no idea people would respond to him the way they have - I am beyond delighted and pleased. I get more comments about Sanders than I do about Tate, Jameson, and Ang combined. People just love him, and I'm so proud of him and the character he became. I'm very glad people love him as much as I do - but his story existed and was written long before I hit publish.
I wrote Degradation in early February of this year, 2014. I took the entire month of March off from life, didn't type or read a word, as I was dealing with a family emergency.
I picked the story line back up in mid-March. Sanders' prologue was the very first thing I thought of, very first thing I wrote. When I re-read, I actually usually skip it because I've read it SO MANY TIMES now. Separation had three separate starts - over 100 pages went in the trash - but Sanders' prologue always remained.
I think Reparation got started some time in April. The entire storyline was completely finished by the end of May. Did some rewrites and edits on Degradation, and then I started sending out ARCs between June 15th-20th - the same time I set up this account and my Facebook account.
So The Kane Trilogy was a trilogy long before I ever hit publish - my mission statement is no joke, I would never EVER publish an unfinished storyline.
Separation was such a bitch to write, caused me so many problems, took a massive amount more time to write than either Degradation or Reparation. Imagine if I had published Degradation without writing Separation? I would probably still be working on it right now. And I - personally - don't think that's okay or fair to do, with a cliffhanger ending. Why should readers suffer because I have writer's block and poor planning abilities? I can just hold my horses and NOT hit publish - people can't get antsy about a book they don't know exists.
So there you have it. I would like to say I included things just for the readers and fans - but alas, I did not. I couldn't, because everything you read existed long before any of you even knew who I was.
So if you have any input on my next stories, now is the time to put in your two cents to tell me what you want to see and read! Cause by the time I hit publish, everything will already long since be done.
Do to my amazing stalking abilities, I have seen people comment with things like "well, potential release date", or wondering if Sanders' prologue was just written because of "fan" interest in him from the first book.
I can tell you, Reparation will 110% be published on time. How do I know that? Because it's written. It's finished. Keeping a promise is important to me, and giving a release date is making a promise, in my opinion. I wouldn't have set that date if I didn't think I could make it, and I was able to set that date because why? The story was written.
Same with the Sanders prologue. I loved Sanders by the middle of writing Degradation. I already knew his backstory by the end of it - it demanded to be told, hence why it was the prologue to part two. I also knew he would be playing a much bigger part, so I wanted to get his story out there to explain some more about him and his ways.
I had no idea people would respond to him the way they have - I am beyond delighted and pleased. I get more comments about Sanders than I do about Tate, Jameson, and Ang combined. People just love him, and I'm so proud of him and the character he became. I'm very glad people love him as much as I do - but his story existed and was written long before I hit publish.
I wrote Degradation in early February of this year, 2014. I took the entire month of March off from life, didn't type or read a word, as I was dealing with a family emergency.
I picked the story line back up in mid-March. Sanders' prologue was the very first thing I thought of, very first thing I wrote. When I re-read, I actually usually skip it because I've read it SO MANY TIMES now. Separation had three separate starts - over 100 pages went in the trash - but Sanders' prologue always remained.
I think Reparation got started some time in April. The entire storyline was completely finished by the end of May. Did some rewrites and edits on Degradation, and then I started sending out ARCs between June 15th-20th - the same time I set up this account and my Facebook account.
So The Kane Trilogy was a trilogy long before I ever hit publish - my mission statement is no joke, I would never EVER publish an unfinished storyline.
Separation was such a bitch to write, caused me so many problems, took a massive amount more time to write than either Degradation or Reparation. Imagine if I had published Degradation without writing Separation? I would probably still be working on it right now. And I - personally - don't think that's okay or fair to do, with a cliffhanger ending. Why should readers suffer because I have writer's block and poor planning abilities? I can just hold my horses and NOT hit publish - people can't get antsy about a book they don't know exists.
So there you have it. I would like to say I included things just for the readers and fans - but alas, I did not. I couldn't, because everything you read existed long before any of you even knew who I was.
So if you have any input on my next stories, now is the time to put in your two cents to tell me what you want to see and read! Cause by the time I hit publish, everything will already long since be done.
September 29, 2014
Condom Conundrum
So.
This is something I have seen complained about, on several occasions. With my books, and with other books.
Condoms.
Why are book boyfriends such filthy whores that they never use condoms!?
Gross.
Honestly? I couldn't care two ways if a guy in a book uses a condom - these are just MY personal thoughts on the issue. You never once read about Jameson using a condom because - to be quite honest - I didn't think about it. I write sex scenes in a very similar fashion to how they happen in real life - quickly, without thinking too much about it, just trying to get to that explosive ending.
If an author wants to write condom use in to their story, bravo, good for them. But if they don't, I don't hold it against them, either.
In my opinion, we're reading FICTION, and since it's FICTION, then maybe this book takes place in a land where STDs don't exist and you only get pregnant when you decide you want to get pregnant.
Or maybe, since it's FICTION, the author is just glossing over it, and in the push and pull of the moment, the condom wrapping did happen, we just weren't privy to it. Most authors don't write in every time their characters pee and poop, but I'm gonna go ahead and assume those things happen, too (notice no one complains about that? Gotcha!).
Harry Potter is also FICTION, and I didn't need a disclaimer every time Harry whipped out his wand *nyuck nyuck* explaining to me that magic is not, in fact, real (LIES!!!!). I know magic isn't real. I know that I can't fly, or cast spells, or disappear - but I love to read about it, so I go with it. I don't need someone to remind me that it isn't real.
I know that under no circumstances, should a person EVER have sex for the first time with someone else WITHOUT using a condom. The only thing that's 100% safe is abstinence - if you don't want a fetching case of the Herpes, or a baby, wrap it up!
But I know that I am writing AND reading something that is entirely FICTION. And people will continue arguing this point, and maybe feel it's an author's duty to set a good example, or what have you.
But no one should use Jameson as a leading example for ANYTHING, least of all safe sex. He is a very, very bad boy.
Did you read the part where he likes to pay for sex!?
Gross.
(I'd still totally jump on that)
This is something I have seen complained about, on several occasions. With my books, and with other books.
Condoms.
Why are book boyfriends such filthy whores that they never use condoms!?
Gross.
Honestly? I couldn't care two ways if a guy in a book uses a condom - these are just MY personal thoughts on the issue. You never once read about Jameson using a condom because - to be quite honest - I didn't think about it. I write sex scenes in a very similar fashion to how they happen in real life - quickly, without thinking too much about it, just trying to get to that explosive ending.
If an author wants to write condom use in to their story, bravo, good for them. But if they don't, I don't hold it against them, either.
In my opinion, we're reading FICTION, and since it's FICTION, then maybe this book takes place in a land where STDs don't exist and you only get pregnant when you decide you want to get pregnant.
Or maybe, since it's FICTION, the author is just glossing over it, and in the push and pull of the moment, the condom wrapping did happen, we just weren't privy to it. Most authors don't write in every time their characters pee and poop, but I'm gonna go ahead and assume those things happen, too (notice no one complains about that? Gotcha!).
Harry Potter is also FICTION, and I didn't need a disclaimer every time Harry whipped out his wand *nyuck nyuck* explaining to me that magic is not, in fact, real (LIES!!!!). I know magic isn't real. I know that I can't fly, or cast spells, or disappear - but I love to read about it, so I go with it. I don't need someone to remind me that it isn't real.
I know that under no circumstances, should a person EVER have sex for the first time with someone else WITHOUT using a condom. The only thing that's 100% safe is abstinence - if you don't want a fetching case of the Herpes, or a baby, wrap it up!
But I know that I am writing AND reading something that is entirely FICTION. And people will continue arguing this point, and maybe feel it's an author's duty to set a good example, or what have you.
But no one should use Jameson as a leading example for ANYTHING, least of all safe sex. He is a very, very bad boy.
Did you read the part where he likes to pay for sex!?
Gross.
(I'd still totally jump on that)
September 22, 2014
Psychology (or why my brain don't work no good)
So a question I have asked myself a couple times over the years, and CONSTANTLY since July 21st - why is it always easier to believe bad over good?
Ten people tell you that your outfit is cute. One douchebag says your ass looks fat. Night. OVER.
It's the same way with reviews. One negative review easily discredits all positive.
Why? This is not logical. This doesn't make sense. From a clinical, objective stand point, I can step aside and say "not everyone will like everything, and just because someone doesn't like it, doesn't mean it's 'bad', it's just a difference of opinion. A difference of taste. And one versus many obviously shows which one you should take seriously."
But from a normal, every day person stand point, it's more like "GOD WHY!? WHY!? WHY DID I DO THIS!? Maybe I can delete the book and no one will ever know I hit publish!"
Which is STUPID. I KNOW this is STUPID. I would think someone else was STUPID for reacting this way. So why do some many of us authors feel this way?
I had an "ah ha!" moment today, after I received a less than stellar review. I had read the review and kept thinking "yup, exactly. That's what I was worried about - that the story read like that, came off like that. Horrible. I knew it."
And that's when it dawned on me - confirmation.
Someone gives a positive review. Lots of people give positive reviews. HUNDREDS of people give positive reviews. I'm shocked. I'm surprised. I'm astounded.
But ONE person gives a negative review, and it feels like a confirmation. All the others are just nice surprises - the negative is confirming the thought that is already in my brain, thus my brain takes it to be the real truth.
How horrible we are, as human beings, that most of us are hard-wired to think this way, feel this way. We're never quite good enough, skinny enough, pretty enough, talented enough. We're always thinking we fall just a little short, so every agreement with that sentiment, is like someone speaking the truth.
It's all a very STUPID way to think.
I'm glad I had that moment, it made me feel better about some things. Sure, negative comments are always gonna make a person feel a little down, but realizing that really it's me feeling that way, and not the person saying those things, makes it easier to deal with and move on.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Separation went LIVE today! As of a few moments ago, it was #671 in Kindle Paid! Dayuuuuuum - that's 671 out of 1.3 MILLION Kindle books! I'll take that! I am also ranked at #217 for Contemporary Romance in ALL books, and #1,171 for ALL books, PERIOD.
Feel very ..., elated. Amazed. Wonderfied. Is that a word? It is now.
Thanks everyone.
Ten people tell you that your outfit is cute. One douchebag says your ass looks fat. Night. OVER.
It's the same way with reviews. One negative review easily discredits all positive.
Why? This is not logical. This doesn't make sense. From a clinical, objective stand point, I can step aside and say "not everyone will like everything, and just because someone doesn't like it, doesn't mean it's 'bad', it's just a difference of opinion. A difference of taste. And one versus many obviously shows which one you should take seriously."
But from a normal, every day person stand point, it's more like "GOD WHY!? WHY!? WHY DID I DO THIS!? Maybe I can delete the book and no one will ever know I hit publish!"
Which is STUPID. I KNOW this is STUPID. I would think someone else was STUPID for reacting this way. So why do some many of us authors feel this way?
I had an "ah ha!" moment today, after I received a less than stellar review. I had read the review and kept thinking "yup, exactly. That's what I was worried about - that the story read like that, came off like that. Horrible. I knew it."
And that's when it dawned on me - confirmation.
Someone gives a positive review. Lots of people give positive reviews. HUNDREDS of people give positive reviews. I'm shocked. I'm surprised. I'm astounded.
But ONE person gives a negative review, and it feels like a confirmation. All the others are just nice surprises - the negative is confirming the thought that is already in my brain, thus my brain takes it to be the real truth.
How horrible we are, as human beings, that most of us are hard-wired to think this way, feel this way. We're never quite good enough, skinny enough, pretty enough, talented enough. We're always thinking we fall just a little short, so every agreement with that sentiment, is like someone speaking the truth.
It's all a very STUPID way to think.
I'm glad I had that moment, it made me feel better about some things. Sure, negative comments are always gonna make a person feel a little down, but realizing that really it's me feeling that way, and not the person saying those things, makes it easier to deal with and move on.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Separation went LIVE today! As of a few moments ago, it was #671 in Kindle Paid! Dayuuuuuum - that's 671 out of 1.3 MILLION Kindle books! I'll take that! I am also ranked at #217 for Contemporary Romance in ALL books, and #1,171 for ALL books, PERIOD.
Feel very ..., elated. Amazed. Wonderfied. Is that a word? It is now.
Thanks everyone.
September 15, 2014
Morning Cup-o-Kink, with a Dash of News, and a Hint-o-Bragging
So for the Hint-o-Bragging:
Oh my giddy-god's pajamas, Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews has picked Degradation as one of their six HOTTEST READS OF THE SUMMER. Died a little. It is in a giveaway that Sinfully does with FOUR other blogs that you just might have heard of, who all also included their top hottest reads - so THIRTY signed paperback books are up for grabs in an AMAZING giveaway, that you can find here:
http://bit.ly/1s2g8lv
Or at any of these blogs:
Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews
The Rock Stars of Romance
Schmexy Girl Book Blog
True Story Book Blog
The SubClub Books
And in the News Department:
Separation releases in ONE WEEK! AHHHHH! Excited and nervous and scared and elated and .... maybe want to throw up a little ...
Since I'm SO EXCITED for the continuation of Jameson's story, I am putting Degradation on sale for that weekend, the 20th, 21st, and 22nd! Only .99¢! So if you've been hesitating over buying it, here is your chance! Get it on sale and then Separation will be available on Monday for a back-to-back read!
Cup-o-Kink:
I have always ALWAYS written some kind of romance, I can recognize that now. It is a theme in every story I've ever done. But erotica!? Hell yeah, I like to read it, but write it!? I can't even get through Pretty Woman without putting a pillow over my face!
So last year, around March, I set out to write a contemporary romance novel, complete with sex scenes. You guys, if you could read it now ... it's embarrassing how bland and boring it is. So I decided to try again - and this time, I wanted to write an Alpha. So I wrote ANOTHER story, so big I had to break it into two parts. Stronger, more descriptive sex scenes, but still very safely in the contemporary department.
And then along came Jameson. "Hallloooo, leave your inhibitions at the door, bitch, cause it's about to become a bumpy fuckin' ride." I had NEVER written full-on erotica, until Jameson's story. That BJ scene in the library? Yup, first time writing one of those! And now it's somewhat of a favorite.
"Hmmm, maybe I actually CAN do this ..."
But "problem" arose - Degradation is considered by a lot to be a "dark" read. How did that happen? I don't write dark. Do I? I wasn't trying to write dark. What would happen if I actually REALLY tried to write dark?
So I tried it. And you know what happened? NADA. Nothing. Kept stalling. Didn't flow AT ALL. Dropped stories and switched pages and booooorrrriiiinnnggg.
So I started again. A lot of time, when I'm going to bed, I try to clear my mind and think very clearly to myself "what do YOU want to see?" and then thoughts and images kinda float through my brain.
I kept picturing James Spader, and thinking a lot about a lot of his movies. A story line started to develop. But I was kind of scared of it, scared that it would stall like the rest, so I waited almost a week before opening that new page.
BOOM. 30,000 words and still going - I had to force myself to stop so I could finish editing Separation. And I think I kinda sorta (not really) figured something out.
I don't write dark - I write SEX. THAT is my genre. Is that a genre? Well, it is now. It just seems to come easily to me (not saying that it's technically good, just saying it's what flows the most naturally).
Kinky sex. Taboo sex. Fetish sex. Things that make you go "this is wrong, but I can't stop reading about it". I love it, I love writing about it, I love exploring it. I'm not very kinky or taboo or fetish-y in real life, but I think that might be part of it - a curiosity about those things, maybe, that drives me to write stories about them.
"Well, I don't like being choked out or slapped around or called names - but I do kinda wonder what it's like to live that lifestyle, or why those people like it. Maybe if I try to write a story about it, I can get in that mind set a little ..."
I have seen people complain about some other book/s being "all about sex"! Well, why not?, I say. Why can't sex be THE plot? A large chunk of most peoples' adult lives revolves a little bit around sex. Losing your virginity, trying to find someone to have sex with, trying to make it good, trying to have babies, whatever - why can't a book be about that? Because it's sex? Sex isn't worthy of its own plotline?
Apparently in my world it is.
I hope you read and liked Degradation. I hope you read and like Separation - it is a very different book, a departure. I hope you read and like Reparation, when it comes out in December.
And I hope you like them enough to stick around and see what else I've got up my sleeves, because I'm thinking there just might maybe some more stuff up there ... some kinky and syrupy sweet and bad for you and so so good for you ... and maybe just a hint-o-dark ...
