Episode 116 ~Will Connects The Dots~

Money and then the woman, but I’m not saying she’s a golddigger, though I’m not above buying my way into Heaven with how I’m working these days, only I would be better off looking for a change of heart. Will Connects The Dots hopefully

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Episode 116 ~Will Connects The Dots~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
How To Make One Million Dollars, don’t be such a boob or better yet stare at a pair of them for extended periods because no matter what you call them, breasts, ta-tas, fun bags, whatever the feeling remains and yes I looked up the slang. If I’m looking up anything nowadays it should be for dotting I’s and crossing T’s but look at me today, well I did show up eventually but speaking of eyes *sigh*

If only I had such laser focus when it came to my words or can I blame work again, every day this week… that’s one good thing about my day job, you can’t wait to leave, if I ever did own a brothel, well… Is it fair to use “cathouse” and “romantic,” they say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and there was a time that was my focus when it came to a woman, the time of intimacy am I right? The days of having a heart but now it’s everything on the surface, freckles, nipples but is it odd that I don’t like too many tattoos on a girl; don’t get me wrong there are two moms and a lesbian chick I would happily fuck, still.

One of the many things I’m attempting to figure out about myself, what separates one girl from the next as I was telling Inspector Echo yesterday a person is supposed to control their feelings, but everything in this world is demanding honestly; such as being a dominant as well. You don’t change a submissive; you want her as she is but everything after that is to draw her more into you, like those connect the dots pictures. You have the idea, but you follow steps, and when you see her for what she is, you fill her in with your desires and hers My problem today has been the fact that I’m focusing on two dots on some cosplayer’s chest because… well one more puzzle, other than I’m horny honestly.

Too much pent-up energy, do I blame my “medication” or my new work ethic this week at the day job or maybe I’m dying and looking for a piece of “paradise” and however will I get there? The money is coming at this rate, not a lot but it’s something if I don’t fuck it up somehow, but no more dreams of anything so far, and don’t they say seeing is believing; with boobs, yes touching would help quite a bit… Will Connects The Dots.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 115 ~Will Sees Red Again~

Well I was seeing red a few hours ago, and I’m voting blue soon enough if anyone asks, and work (not the day job) has been fruitful, well I guess that might be for you yo decide. “Will Sees Red Again”… no not at you silly

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

Episode 115 ~Will Sees Red Again~

Forgive Me Echo,
How To Make One Million Dollars, I know one thing I won’t be spending money on any black hoodies for a while but then again, work being work which is why I’m wearing the red one *sigh* let me explain. There are reasons you shouldn’t go around waving the Confederate flag, that “Very Fine People” would refrain from wearing Nazi uniforms, why KKK costumes are more about celebrating your heritage (of being an asshole) I’m just saying.

My first sin of the day *ahem* changing my clothes because wearing the same color as somebody I despise. Hell how about seeing the person I hate period doesn’t sit well with me, the rage has returned. Now I know you want to say that I control how I respond to people but let me put it this way, you’re going on a date, a girl gets dressed up, why… to get a reaction from you, and as much as most girls don’t want to admit it, if a guy is straight and seeing you, he wants to “bang” you, point blank period, get used to it. Some people I feel nothing for, some I want, and others fill me with rage, excuse me if my name isn’t Elsa and I won’t let it go, though there are ways, R.I.P.

“What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee” William Shakespeare

They say people can control you with rage, but that’s true on most emotions and what I feel today besides madness leads me to my second sin, how late this is coming along Inspector Echo but I did finish a short story, “Love The Way You Run,” still singing the praises of 5-hour ENERGY. Third would be the fact as I was telling “Indiana Gone” she knows what I think of my writing, but it’s supposed to hurt right, though it doesn’t bother me to say that my words suck most days. At least I think I know how to get through NaNoWriMo this year if tonight is any indication. Before I forget, how about politics, how stupid can some people be, and yes I will be going blue, my fourth sin, that YouTube at least thinks it can sway me somehow. Trump Sucks, Republicans.

Maybe I should have started talking to you first Inspector Echo; I swear I had some good stuff, but now I’m only blah awake, not feeling anything but getting a lot done, hopefully, no more porn, but some girls… Can you forgive me Inspector Echo for believing the clothes make the man is now an emotional response, how about for staying up late with TV and books, as always for hating my writing, and the state of politics, again I’m all blue, but today sorry but Will Sees Red Again?

I Will Have No Fear

Love The Way You Run

It’s a disease this thing called love I once heard, but I think I’m an asymptomatic carrier when you get right down to it, or as the song goes, Love Don’t Love Me but I haven’t written any “sweet” poetry lately, or short stories. Love The Way You Run

My heart beats faster and faster, as though it can escape me, soon I almost mutter aloud and yet she sees, one of the many and if she thinks I can turn around and face the rest of them as her voice breaks through. “How about today, Mr. Berton” Ms. Everard tutted, how she surely must have gone into the wrong profession, but who better to teach a man about life and death but a woman but this was Math.

How long have I been staring at her, could I count the breaths that I missed and apparently I must be missing a brain, I must be the Tin Man, minus the ax as well… one more reason I couldn’t turn around. Her eyes as brown as the dirt I wanted to bury myself under, was I not one more dead man and yet it’s dead things that make others grow, as hard as the board I haven’t touched in ages, please let me just hack away and build a coffin. Yeah but my heart won’t allow it, or that’s what I keep telling myself, fighting to stay alive though I was already in Hell, though nobody would know it with my complexion but hers?

The dead can be monsters, lucky for her, though I could see the rivers of red run along her tanned cheeks, the small scars healing as though she met a beast long before me, though her soft pink lips called me anything but her worst nightmare. “Mr. Berton” she cried as she walked over to me, her black top barely containing her but it could be worst, if it were her heart I was after, and then men chase skirts, the tigress’s one she was wearing, no I would instead trace the black heart tattoo along her cheek or the designs along her wrist. Surely she must be crazy to approach me, killing me like this or bringing me back to life, I would choose the former rather than face the class once again in this state, I just couldn’t.

Saved by the bell, as the class began to leave, my backpack not big enough to hold me, no EMT’s or coroner’s to pronounce what I already knew, was it wrong for me to even wish for a cop, death might come that much quicker. No, I wouldn’t need that, as Ms. Everard, cautioned “see you tomorrow,” now honestly I am no track star, but I am surely going to give it a chance as I ran out of there as fast as my feet cared to carry me now.

If I didn’t see her, her, or even her, why was I still going to school if my only job prospect was looking at the ground, knowing the moment I looked up, I would be knocked off of my feet, better to find the whole now, get it over with.

Better a cabin in the woods than being eaten alive, a careless whisper, a kiss, the scent of perfume, there was no fighting this, I wanted to believe, as I scurried along, call me a coward, or worse one of the infected. Rage, at them, at myself, hell that’s what I felt, but it’s nature, even the animals that have no concept of it, knew it, and here I thought people were supposed to prefer the privacy of their own homes. That’s where I was headed, maybe I could attribute my sickness to anything but the butterflies in my stomach, though I doubted even Noah had the problems I was feeling running through my veins.

No, they will not make a monster out of me, idle hands being the devil’s playthings and all but I didn’t have anyone to call, no money to spend, and while violence was far more accepted, it could never be condoned. If I could be like the cool kids, I could probably get a drink somewhere, maybe I could smoke something, it might even make me that much braver and live or die, it wouldn’t matter in the end perhaps.
Some idiot laughing on the ground and the pretty girls’ laughter brings him back to life, and he’ll only fall down again, for her I suppose or she for him, why don’t I find more joy in my immunity to all of this? Sickness is never a good thing, and that’s what the world would make of me as I ran that much faster, I must look like a lunatic and if only they knew they would have me committed by sundown. Why couldn’t this all exist in the dark, that’s where the monsters were supposed to come out and play, but where was I headed now, there were no bright lights where I was going if I kept my computer off of my obsession.

I would make myself a sacrifice for the good of the world, the sole survivor but to what end, and her’s, had God chosen to curse me so, as I stared and in the next second wondered who put that pole there as I crashed.

Light as a feather but only a board, was written on one of the books she carried but she did not stop, perhaps I was already a ghost, and none of them could see me, even if she was attuned with the spirit world as her library would suggest. It would make sense the way I was haunting her, some might say stalking, others would make me out to be a creep, nobody ever saw me until far too late.

Not good enough for Heaven and not bad enough for Hell and yet I was surrounded by angels and the devils that would have them, if but a word from me, after all, a ghost still needed a place to haunt some nights. It would explain a lot, I didn’t eat much, nobody ever heard a word I said, well at not women and some women loved to pretend that I would jump out at them when they least expected, it’s like being an alien only that beast would be my heart crawling its way out of my chest. Just it wouldn’t be today if I could make it back to my haunting ground without any more bruises or scars.

At least that’s how the guys saw me, maybe I was surrounded by ghosts or angels, and every guy saw me as a necromancer, I was paid to bring girls to life, and those men got to “love” them, I could be the grim reaper. Only it was grim I would ever see that girl again, her burgundy hair, those greenish-brown eyes, her snow-white skin, clad in black top similar to my teacher’s and blue jeans that would have to be peeled off of her slowly. Much like my dark skin if I ever got the chance, she was probably looking into the tarot now, coming up with a million reasons why we couldn’t be together in some way maybe.

I could help her out with that, but I will be damned if I was chasing after such a beauty like the beast I could not choose to be for the life of me, or for the life of her, and that was one million and one if she could hear me. We didn’t belong together because I was already dead or would be I imagined all the more as I saw my reflection in a puddle, yes I decide what I was going to be or was, a zombie.

Some zombies were only interested in brains, others were connoisseurs of the flesh, and while I could admit there was something about brunettes, I was not picky from wanting a dark-haired single mother, to a girl interested in the next realm. Still lacking my brain, why else would I feast on or find any thought I had elsewhere and not on the tip of my tongue, I must be starving.

Werewolves would lock themselves in cages, vampires had one coffin, but what could hold a zombie, the cure would be a million times worse than the virus, the ground may not change on the path, but these people were walking obituaries. Feasting upon each other time and again, some for their whole lives, and they pitied me… maybe they were right, but I accepted what I was a long time ago, and how dare I take somebody with me, zombies have mobs, as for me… I wanted to tear her apart, but I wouldn’t turn around and follow my black magic woman, I wouldn’t taste those juicy pink lips, bite or even nibble upon her.

Too many people had taken bites from my brain already, no wonder I couldn’t remember what it was to be like them or at the very least what I pretended to be because what I was could not be allowed anywhere. Let the disease run rampant all over the globe, I would run, I would hide, better than being one of them, no never, I kept telling myself, until I turned blue in the face, but I was so close to the house now. A zombie that would not bite, because no the world did not need more of me running around and I’m sure there were enough women that wanted to blow my head off for a few reasons.

What kind of monster thinks that; not a zombie that’s for sure they fear nothing, most monsters don’t, but there is something that is full of fear as I ran faster and I saw her standing there waiting to be let in. Have I had it all wrong, as I was clad in my black hoodie with matching jeans and boots, staring at the brunette vixen, cleaning supplies in hand, not that it would be enough; am I a psycho?

I’m only a man, and there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide now, but she was just the maid, not that I would think of her in such simplistic terms, not with a body to die for, the thought kept replaying in my mind. My would-be prey who was making sure to clean all the evidence of her arrival, she would be all that was left for me, the only picture taken in her soft brown eyes, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and the matching underwear I bought her for Christmas once.

A psycho was always prepared, only there were no axes, no playroom, not a respectable torture device to be had, gloves, machete, or a chainsaw, and they say that humans are made in the image of God. While I still wasn’t a believer in such the things I wanted were less than holy without a doubt and would damn me for all eternity, well damned if I do or damned if I don’t, so why was I the one backing away looking to get out. She was only a girl, but any would-be man would tell you that can be the scariest thing in the universe easily; witch, siren, succubus, and yet somehow here she was on her knees keeping me at bay easily enough.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Kaelyn asked, probably reading my darkest intentions as she hurried towards the door, but my hands were shaking as I reached out to hand her the money and she was on her way, safe and sound. As I was lying on my bed, throw in alone, and all would be well except for the knock on my door, Kaelyn forgetting something I wanted to believe but there was nothing there and everything, it was in the air. My next question should have been how did all these ladies get in my house and taking hold of me, but I didn’t need to ask who they were, Aphrodite runs deep these days; if anything I should be flattered but terrified would have to do.

“Who do you think you are,” Cupid asked me, already there was an arrow pointing straight at my heart, as the women held me down and telling them I was a Titan might be the wrong answer as I was surrounded by these gods and goddesses of love. “Now you take the time to find me” I grunted, as they moved forward hungrily, staring at everything that womankind chose to ignore forever and a day.

“Our worst nightmare” Eros chuckled, putting two fingers to my forehead and suddenly I was filled with visions, broken hearts as far as my eyes could see, I indeed was one to be despised so why bother to apologize. On the other hand, they owed me that much and a lot more but what made me think they were interested in me as a person, not when I saw those fangs and claws come out.

Finally, my hands were traveling to the loveliest of places, of course, they were ripped from my wrists, with all sympathies to the Devil, no more worries for any of these gods jobs at this point as I found my voice. I screamed as I felt their jaws, their claws tearing me apart piece by piece, ripping into me, my final love letter and it was being written in blood, or is this why they wanted me all along. Even now I couldn’t help but find the beauty in even this or at least one part of me continued to believe so despite being made into a buffet for over a dozen or so gods of old, that didn’t understand that love has now changed.

I could have even been one of them I sighed or was that my last breath as my heart was finally stolen and Aphrodite smacked her lips holding it in her hands announcing then “I Love The Way You Run.”

Episode 114 ~Time Out For Will~

Maybe I’m looking to get away from it all, don’t ask me about the last time I had a vacation on even a trip to the movies… as the song goes, if I had a million dollars but what about love too. Time Out For Will

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

Episode 114 ~Time Out For Will~

Dear Future Wife,
How To Make One Million Dollars, though I don’t remember places like The McWane Science Center being expensive and anywhere that I can’t wear one of my hoodies… well, I want the money until It Doesn’t Matter. I’m much more of a homebody or one for out of body experiences, I read a lot on Astral Projection, though it’s been years, I suppose because you’re my Angel; yes, if it’s not music, then lame compliments will do.

Now before I break out my best Madmartigan from Willow (1988) I do like going out and looking at the stars from time to time, I only ever see them anymore when I head for work, or I look into your eyes; yeah I’m trying to stop. Maybe that’s why I like going to the movies or the library, a few museums here or there because they’re quiet and rooted in facts, that’s the truth. I was never the guy you’ll find hiding in a “man cave” watching the “game” unless we’re talking about the Olympics, then I’ll see you in two weeks, I prefer the Study but you’ll find me on one side of the house, lost in a book, instead of raking leaves.

Probably one more reason I want a million dollars, so I can buy one of those robots to do it while we go camping and honestly I have never been but somewhere alone with you and nature… primal but I like fishing too. Isn’t it strange that we’ll go someplace quiet and educational with the kids or somewhere, I can lose myself, Disney World, Universal, New York, California, but I’ll be just as happy, holding my son’s hand, you carrying our daughter and going to see a movie, “Trolls” was awesome. Can’t forget about my first born though, I want him to see the beach someday, and are you honestly going to ask me what I do to unwind or how about what you want to do, you saw me today though, blanket and bed.

Not that I don’t get wild from time to time, of course, you know me, so if they haven’t closed down the “Ranches” in Nevada yet or how about we go and see what Japan has to offer us, I mean “Hotels” and all. Am I that much of an explorer… yeah most days I’m looking for the darkest corners, but I want you with me, and maybe life won’t look like, well as it does now; me In Da Club, Time Out For Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 113 ~Always Write The Truest Sentence~

As the song goes, every day I write the book or NOT, I found out it’s too late to submit a short story for competition but still, it’s not only a goal to write, it’s my purpose if that is the truth. “Always Write The Truest Sentence.”

Monday, October 22, 2018

Episode 113 ~Always Write The Truest Sentence~

Fifty-Fifth Rule Madam Justice

How To Make One Million Dollars, is there a fairer sentence these days, the first words of a short story I still plan on writing, all those missed sentences I didn’t read at work as I signed my name, how about the death sentence I hope has known conclusion, somebody getting fired. The truth of the matter is that first sentence; if it doesn’t do what is needed then the last sentence doesn’t matter now does it, and when it comes to you and the others, the concept of making a million dollars is it.

It sounds a lot better than, I’m getting in her pants this way or that way; already I’m beginning to look like a hypocrite, but damn do you know everything that a million dollars could get done simply. When I was a child, it used to be what two-hundred dollars could do, and like my money my sentences have grown as well and again like my finances, this is not always a good thing. My money and my writing have to speak for me because more often than not when I talk out loud, it’s not the real me and you know I despise liars but take this as true; if anything I’m an artist.

“Artists use lies to tell the truth. Yes, I created a lie. But because you believed it, you found something true about yourself.” ― Alan Moore, V for Vendetta (Goodreads)

I can’t say I rightly know what people find out about themselves when they read my writing but for the majority, when I speak I find out they are shit human beings, of course, there are exceptions “Indiana Gone,” “Okay,” yeah I can’t even name a few I can be myself around. So am I Will, when I’m writing… now that would be terrifying, a guy that would rather be with machines than people, a sadistic photographer who does everything to his victims, a vengeful cult-leader? Who do I want to be tomorrow, hell who do I want to be from minute to minute, this is more a question for Lady Sophia, but I’m not going to get to my short story today am I.

Love The Way You Run, working title of course but now I’m stuck on writing the first sentence, but it’s more like the story I tell myself when I first leave work, what did the general manager say “read between the lines.” First there have to be lines, and then there are words and somewhere in all of that junk lies me and if only someone would care to look but the fact that I’m not writing means *sigh* I don’t want to be found; is that the truth or a lie dear Madam Justice, Always Write The Truest Sentence.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 112 ~Willie It’s Cold Outside~

Last week I was too hot, this past week I was too cold, so when will I have a week when I’m just right, can’t say the people, precipitation, or my purpose are helping, considering I’m stuck in the day job, gratefully. “Willie, It’s Cold Outside”

Sunday, October 21, 2018

Episode 112 ~Willie It’s Cold Outside~

To Will:
How To Make One Million Dollars, cold hard cash as it were, I can’t say I have made any headway in such an endeavor but perhaps you may if work keeps being work and you find yourself stuck there. Isn’t that what we don’t want, a man of contradiction deciding between what needs to go out and what needs to stay in and the MILF isn’t helping though I steered clear of the porn… for the most part *cough* “Goblin Slayer” *cough* right.

If I’m not talking about that bit of hardness, how about what I think I did, I mean I still don’t know right, I reported “Dumbest” and this past week I haven’t seen him, I treat the day job like my life, and here I’ve gone and taken someone’s… possibly but good riddance. The world can be a cold, cruel, and complicated place, a lesson that must constantly know exploration, but you know better to go wishing on a star, hell with how you have worked today making up for my “shortcomings.” Should that go on the list, stop comparing everything to penis size, if it’s not all the pretty girls, it’s the dicks you work with and if I could have focused more on you know, Six Impossible Things:

1. I Will Keep It In My Pants (Day 009 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
Completed (Day 016 No Fap)
2. I Will Be The “Father” My Dog Deserves
Failed
3. I Will Review Church. (Church #1) By Stylo Fantome
Completed
4. I Will Review “Under His Heel.” By Adara Wolf
Completed
5. I Will Finish Sell My Soul (Sixty Days #1) by Jade West
Completed
6. I Will Edit At Least One Chapter of “Apocalypse Rush”
Failed

A 67 D, and the only person getting it is me but what about you, no excuses but you have $400.00 in your wallet that is more than enough for the kid’s meds, a bath, and getting those nails clip; I gave up two off days to make more money; Treachery is the Ninth Circle of Hell you know. You have plenty to talk about with Inspector Echo and Dirty Diana, but of course, you’re stuck, frozen, fearful, and forgetful except to all that scares you, no wonder your character in the novel is known as a Dragon. Philosophy, one of the questions you will face is how to break the ice, that is without melting; pieces of you are okay, these Six Impossible Things:

1. I Will Keep It In My Pants (Day 016 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
2. I Will Be The “Father” My Dog Deserves
3. I Will Review Sell My Soul (Sixty Days #1) by Jade West
4. I Will Write A “Horror” Short-story
5. I Will Finish Depredation By Natalie Bennett
6. I Will Edit At Least One Chapter of “Apocalypse Rush”

You should probably review something else but when’s the last time you’ve had a clear inbox, hell there’s still one email from last year, we’re stuck with women on the brain, and again it’s not like you’re going anywhere you want this week. Better to stay bundled up when you can, harden your heart, which is the least of your sins, and follow my example of how to keep your pants on no matter the cosplayer, pornstar, English tart, or incredibly hot MILF, I mean seriously Willie It’s Cold Outside.

I Will Have No Fear

A Feat Under His Heel

I wish I could have gotten up, not that I have to, my Kindle is full of books, but I had to take that first step to read this, and I could not stop, also another reason nobody saw me reading this book at work. A Feat Under His Heel, quite a challenge

One foot in front, that’s a step, perhaps being the bigger man, and even now I feel like I’m walking on eggshells because I was in no hurry to finish this story. However, don’t let that suggest my “great” endorsement of “Under His Heel” By Adara Wolf, I was more to the point of running away from it. For the record, I’m male, straight, and a dominant and while I have been reading the erotica genre for years, my review may be slanted and more critical, but if I can, I will focus more on the book itself but no promises, so here we go.

Other than being maybe the first “space” adventure I’ve read with a BDSM theme the plot isn’t anything new, to be honest, some guy gets into trouble, needs fast cash, and ends up in the service of a Captain Johannes Tracht, but of course, you can get that from the blurb. I didn’t find that the environment though served much for a change a pace, more like instead of keeping someone in a dungeon or some area, you keep them in dead space and what is it they say, no one can hear you scream. One of Captain Tracht’s fetishes, sensory deprivation, should that have come with a spoiler alert, in BDSM everyone has their thing, and it was somewhat refreshing to learn about his, it’s enough to give someone ideas, regardless of their sexual preference, tools of the trade.

The whole feet thing along with the clothing was not my cup of tea, but that’s the tip of the iceberg with this title, there’s a mountain of negatives, but that’s me being me, but you should know there is a reason for this title Under His Heel. One more would be that of Total Power Exchange, only in this world, it is entirely enforceable by the law, and Captain Tracht utilizes it with no mercy when it comes to his bondservant, Alex. It became a bit repetitive and annoying. I’m all for submission, but I suppose the idea of having someone with apparently no will of there own is one more thing that doesn’t sit well with me but to each his own which was my way of thinking as I trudged my way through this title, for days.

It was a feat to get through it all, but at least I wasn’t surprised “again” not my first time reading about a “man cave” is that even a thing… anyway, I don’t run from a challenge and while I read mostly for enjoyment and to better my writing this was something else. I can’t even begin how to imagine how women would take this title though if it’s how most men look at two women, then I’m sure this will get them going honestly.

The book’s saving grace, but I’ll get to that; out of Captain Johannes Tracht and Alex Stone (immediately made me think of a porno), I’ll choose Captain Tracht merely because it’s always better to be the hungry than the food. Minus the guy chasing and the obsession with feet he is somewhat a man that I can relate to but by no means was he my favorite character, I leave that honor to Jeremy Parsons and thank heavens for Nadia Sinclair; give me a book about her and I’m interested.

Captain Tracht is, stop me if you’ve heard this one, confident, somewhat wealthy, and a long list of expletives I shouldn’t say if I want this posted anywhere so basically he’s the man all the bad girls want. From Ms. Espinosa who desired his body wantonly, the fetishes that he and Dr. Singh shared, and even his sister that wanted him to be a bit nicer when it came to his own family; probably another reason I liked Parsons so much. Also like any dominant, he is quite protective of Alex, but again it’s one thing to have a submissive under contract but with how he treated him, either the moments were a bit hateful, humiliating, or horny, just saying.

Alex was an idiot, most times when I read about a female submissive, she’s naïve, new, but never stupid but Alex, as Captain Tracht will bring up, again and again, is moronic or easily manipulated but of course he has a contract to back him up. Mr. Stone comes off as the muscle, perhaps another selling point for women because he treats women poorly unlike Captain Tracht who is quite respectful; unless a woman messes up professionally, but he loves to torture Alex because of his treatment of women. The only time I even think anything of Alex is when he has his friendship with Parsons or Nadia, probably the only two people that don’t treat him like garbage or a hole they should fill.

Titles such as this are never known truthfully for traditional or “family values” but I liked Parsons because despite what he did, he only wanted to provide a future for his loved ones and when it came to him and Captain Tracht *sigh*, I didn’t like it but Alex signed up, and the Captain does what he does. I would have liked to see something spring up between Alex and Nadia and if men don’t do it for me, neither do tattooed girls with shaved heads, though I could tell you some stories, probably not better than this, not yet.

Three Stars out of Five and I would probably go two, but that would be me, being mean and bored, not to mention not turned on except for a sex scene with women and those were far too few and short. I should also warn you there might be a few more spoiler alerts, but if you like dominant men and it doesn’t matter who’s catching then this is a good book, but sci-fi fans shouldn’t get their hopes up if you’re looking for technical intrigue in the space realm.

I am in no way inspired to read the sequel to this, here’s hoping my erotica reading group doesn’t get any ideas for the time being; this isn’t a bad book by Adara Wolf; it’s not for me, point blank period but I took a somewhat leap. There is a decent note here or there; I remember looking up the name of one of the space stations and having a fascinating read about the Greeks which served as a nice break… how long did it take me to read this? The author gave me that glimmer of hope that this wouldn’t be what I was expecting, I did a review of “Shiver” By Ella Frank, and I said I didn’t read carefully enough to know what I was getting into, and it was… never mind.

Probably my favorite part of the story was “Tracht Made Alex (sleep with) Nadia at one point.” And that was during a somewhat orgy chapter, nothing wrong with that and I was probably dragging at some point. Parsons did break my heart which is probably where that third star comes into play, and I don’t mean what he did but what happens to him. If Alex did what he did on the grounds of, Captain Tracht being his benefactor, I could understand, but this seems more like Stockholm Syndrome than any real love or affection. Besides the punishments, I liked Tracht’s sister who has a stronger role in the next book, but even wanting to see Tracht be put down is not enough to warrant that reading, to be honest.

Three Stars for a book I would rather avoid, but I read what I read, and as always I appreciate being open to a new point of view, what friends I have in the LGBT community don’t talk about their love lives, and I don’t ask, and I’ve never thought to broach the subject of BDSM. Some books are meant to challenge the mind, to teach new things, to even give you a sense of accomplishment and so this has, A Feat Under His Heel.

When Girls Come To Church

Now this is worth getting up for on a Sunday morning, hell when I was younger my parents would drag me to church, and I would spend time in the balcony reading, nothing akin to this, but it’s better than the Bible. “When Girls Come To Church” though?

No worries I’m not going to get all preachy on you, though if I’m speaking honestly, there was a woman that told me I would be a preacher someday and once upon a time I worked in a Christian bookstore whose owner later became a reverend. I tried reading the “good book” probably one of three books I couldn’t get through all the way but I’m here to talk about a much better book, and that’s “Church.” by Stylo Fantome.

This novel made me believe in five stars again; it brought back my faith that being quiet is not a bad thing especially if you don’t care what anybody thinks and I have always heard that women like the strong silent type and so it was Emma Hartley finds seduction. What a fool believes am I right but I don’t mean only Emma, everyone is in this title from Margo to Jerry, to other girls that want to fall to their pretty knees and worship. All men think their God this one happens to be right and in that, I do mean Paul “Church” Logan, I wouldn’t mind learning his ways, but I can never stick to my silence honestly.

I’ve heard of a man having a dream. Indeed every man should have a plan, but let success make the noise, and there is plenty of that between Church and Emma; sadly, she was not the dream and as far as the plan well? Now I think I’ve asked this question before but what is it that makes the real evil so smart, I wish I were only talking about Church in that but Margo too which is only one more spoiler, I’m warning you just in case. This tale plays its cards close to the chest and then becomes entirely predictable but still extraordinary overall, as the next question is, what happens next which is high praise for any writer, I need to know.

Like life after death; I wouldn’t go that far but this is the first book I’ve read from Stylo Fantome, and now I’m a follower without a doubt, again not as far as Emma, no, if anything I want to be Church. I could fall in love with Emma too, as the song goes, “not a trace of doubt in my mind” as this story will stick with you, it will make you a believer, but the question is what that will be when it’s over; is it love perhaps?

I believe that Emma has known pain, and yeah you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure that out. As I’ve already stated this is the first title I’ve read where silence indeed is reflected in a more positive light; if that means getting a girl out of her panties. The other characters have “admirable” backstories, enough to keep them in the loop, not too much that you need a bio-page to guide you through everything there is about them, thieving mom, lame dad, dirty college girl, etc.

Emma is hurt, thanks to mom’s lying, cheating ways, and is stuck, wanting like anything to get away from everything that’s happened and when do people go looking for faith, that pie in the sky when there seems to be no way out. In walks Church, a man who has found solace in his silence with his own set of mommy issues and yet he meets a woman who understands everything he is trying to say without uttering a word; I’m going to say it now, that’s my dream. Together with all their chemistry when it comes to sex, they formulate a plan, but if only it were the same plan, you would have a love story to be sure.

The mothers in this novel were nothing to write home about and not to creep anyone out, but Church’s mom in a small way reminded me of mine except I didn’t get beat, but second spoiler warning they’re coming too, no doubt. I don’t want to be Church’s dad, a sad man with a small sliver of sanity at any given moment, who only takes what he can get when the time comes, namely Emma’s mother. I would have liked to read more on Stacey Cummings and Marci MacIntosh, but that’s mostly me being a horndog; it is something to see how everyone reacted to Church, from his lover, his “people” and did Margo have something for him too, like mother like daughter that way.

Obsession though, another one of those double standards in the world and one more reason I found myself falling for Emma and wishing to have that “magnetism” that Church could draw out of the female population. Speaking of society, I think everyone, within a reasonable age, of course, should read this because people always talk about love but what you won’t do for love, fairytales have so many princesses, but when push comes to shove what will she do for the dark prince, I’m saying.

You should stop right here maybe, I wonder how many guys are like me reading this sort of title but last warning five stars, can’t wait to read the sequel or others and of course, the ladies will love it. This book got to me in so many ways in all honesty, and that’s even before the sex, and it wasn’t overblown or anything of the sort, but it was there along with everyone’s mental issues and the climax wow.

The eroticism was good, and it could use a bit more but it was enough from Church’s bedroom to the classroom, and what some might call incestuous though Church and Emma were in no way related, merely their parents getting married. Another double standard I saw was the whole don’t kiss and tell, and Marci has a big mouth bragging, while to Church their tryst was nothing but somehow he finds himself falling for Emma, even if at first it was only a means to an end. Emma’s obsession up to the end for Church and then as if she were falling out of a spell, it was reminiscent of “500 Days Of Summer” to wake up in the morning and feel differently about someone.

The things that Emma was willing to do, without knowing anything about Church and when she found out what his end goal was, another change that the man wasn’t aiming to be the killer and the woman would, all for the sake of love. Not that Church didn’t show at least a fondest for Emma and eventually a love, facing off against her mom, getting to see Emma when he showed one time that all his power couldn’t solve a problem. The two scenes that did it for me was the sex on the teacher’s desk; what I’m a traditionalist when it comes to porn; there was also the murder scene that showed such madness.

It showed me five stars, and while I don’t believe in much, I do think that Stylo Fantome’s novel Church has made me a fan and that I couldn’t get enough, it took me less than a week to finish it, so wow. To quote one more song “love is the answer” but there are so many questions. That means it’s going to take a whole lot of love and with men being men, I can see through these tiles When Girls Come To Church.

Episode 111 ~One Way Will Work~

Let’s give the boy a hand as the song goes, failed to get fired, to be completely lazy though if I heard the voice on the PA right but how often am I right, after all, I work retail, and that’s not working for me. One Way Will Work, such is hope

Saturday, October 20, 2018

Episode 111 ~One Way Will Work~

Hey Lady Lu,
How To Make One Million Dollars, last week I talked about going to work and how scared I was of losing my job and is it sad that nothing has changed about that; yes I am grateful, but the thing about any of the employment I’ve held is that I’ve wanted to go. Writing has its good days, and off days, but with the day job there is mind-numbing terror every day, hateful, half-sick, hiding but never hopeful, hell I have PCH for that, and I screwed that up too; my mailing will never make it before the deadline to be sure.

The thing is, what I will do for writing, start a blog, chug a 5-Hour Energy, drive to the library, the money I have spent wasting my time but that makes me feel better than the day job ever has. Hell take today as an example, I researched where to buy stamps so I can mail that stupid PCH letter that won’t make it because that gives me a hope that the rest of this week has never brought me. I know you must be asking yourself Lady Lu why I’m ragging on the day job so much considering, some announcement I’m not even sure I heard succinctly that scared me enough to think I’m losing my job, that does nothing.

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Thomas A. Edison

That is how I feel at work Luna; seven years I’m not sure how many days but not one of them has brought me hope, happiness, or hunger, indeed I’m more likely to puke my brains out and don’t get me started on the bathroom situation again. So like my friend “Okay” suggest, write the book, get published, do the work, one of my motivations talks about how to get rid of fear, but how does one stop Sloth, today still sets the perfect example because how much have I gotten done. One book review written up, picking up stamps, and now talking to you, and once again I believe there is a chance of winning the big sweepstakes; the deadline is the 22nd and tomorrow’s Sunday, so there’s that.

Writing should be my only plan, but I can’t break free, at least not intentionally, a fight, a feeling, getting fired and that brings up a random writing concept… what’s with me and “Alliteration” these days, it’s quite fun with titling my Pinterest “Spank Bank” as Cherry calls it but how many times have I used this writing trope today? Thousands of words that haven’t worked but how do I know, I know retail isn’t but with so much Lady Lu, do I still believe, One Way Will Work?

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 110 ~Enemies Wills And Writes~

Who doesn’t have an enemy, you could be sitting in a monstery and Tibet, and some monk is giving somebody grief, and how much is a shiny rock in comparison to a weapon. “Enemies Wills And Writes”

Friday, October 19, 2018

Episode 110 ~Enemies Wills And Writes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, isn’t it ironic that we spend more on our enemies than we do on our friends, I swear cruelty can be exhausting, and I have a new “respect” for those that practice it. Any writer must know a thing or two about suffering and fear; I don’t care if you’re Mother Goose, and I love my son like pancakes and can give you a million stories, but of course, the last one will hurt the most, a great fear Lady Sophia.

When that day comes, but no worries today about him, only why don’t I write about him more… because when would I find the time to write something good, when there is so much evil in the world. Worry about everything else, that’s what I do, like today at the day job, one enemy said something over the PA, hell I wish there was a memo I misread so I wouldn’t be killing myself over it. What a weapon a voice is, and don’t get me wrong I do believe that the pen is mightier than the sword but that doesn’t stop me from owning a few weapons and what is a weapons purpose, what is a writer’s reason hmm?

“The artist’s job is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.” ― Woody Allen Midnight in Paris: The Shooting Script (From Goodreads)

Words are just so potent as a weapon, am I writing a will, a want, how about a warning, it’s a good thing I didn’t give one of those to an enemy right; I still haven’t seen him since last week, and I would almost be giddy if it weren’t for today. Working today *sigh* I had so much time but that’s the real problem, most days I’m my worst enemy, and while I’m not a killer, I’m a pretty decent sadist next to one group in particular. Women, before you freak out, I would never consider women the enemy, this is more keeping myself in check but as much as I hate to admit it, and I have several times, why did I go back to blogging these days.

Writing is not my enemy, to me, it’s like limping off the battlefield and asking myself the question of what will I do with the rest of my life, what dream was there before the war, what dreams may come after, why is there no longer anyone to fight. Wickedness that I can create enemies out of my imagination isn’t it, and OCD mixed with some paranoia doesn’t help but when you know what haunts you, hurts you, and makes you horny well then you have something to write about, so Enemies Wills And Writes.

I Will Have No Fear