Tale 325 ~Virgil Can B Choosy~

Do I have a choice? Yes. It’s why I look in the mirror, not the nightstand drawer. What? The world’s dangerous, and there’s Heaven, Hell, or the Rainbow Bridge, which I believe my Braxton found. But it wasn’t his choice. Virgil Can B Choosy

Tuesday, May 21, 2024

Tale 325 ~Virgil Can B Choosy~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… A choice? Sure. One that can’t be undone. Our children. My son, Braxton. Even Virgil.

The things that come into my world. But I didn’t choose the world. It’s been a hard few days living in it. And yes, if my B were still here, the past 1206 days would have been no question. Now, that is a lie. But like the promise I made to you. Always and forever.

Whenever I walked out the door, there were three phrases, three words each. “I’ll be back,” “Love ya, B,” and “Love ya Braxton.” No matter what happened, I love Braxton.

That was enough to survive, whatever. And then you ask, what about you? The kids? It’s my choice to come back to my family. I choose you, lover, every day. But it’s a hard choice. I know I sound selfish.

It’s like looking in a mirror. When I see myself even after all this time. I want to do my best Johnny Cash impression. “I hurt myself today.” If I could see myself like Braxton.

Pure love. I’ve told the story time and time again of when my Olds were moving, and Braxton was standing there. “Get in the car!” I yelled. Braxton did not hesitate. He made his choice. B III didn’t know where it would lead, but that choice to love was enough.

Virgil didn’t get that choice. And you, my love, didn’t choose to love, whatever it is I have become. A man of constant sorrow. Because even the choice of me getting up seems too much.

I wake up feeling robbed.

Braxton wasn’t stolen. If I blame anyone for his passing, it’s a former Day Job and my indifference. And that’s why “I Feel Everything.” Grief and sorrow seem the safest.

There was a time when I existed as “lust’s passion will be served…” As if that’s changed with all I do. I’m still in business, after all. The books, babes, and bucks. I want it all. Braxton, though, will not be a part of that. And now choosing to be here. Right here, this moment.

“It’s All Coming Back To Me Now.” A thousand choices shout praises! But make one.

Loving you? I will. Doing right by family. Yes. Existing without my boy? I’m here!

Choose to be happy? Staying enough? Virgil Can B Choosy

1206 Days Without B III, Day 647 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 318 ~Virgil’s Drowning Risk B~

My fears? Braxton’s passing, which I survived… My Olds who are very much alive, and neither one has put me in the ground yet. Then drowning. I even turned off Far Cry 5 when I saw that happening. But Virgil is off and crying? Virgil’s Drowning Risk B

Tuesday, May 14, 2024

Tale 318 ~Virgil’s Drowning Risk B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Enough to keep your head above water. Or do I lay my coat over puddles at your feet, my love?

Do I want to be a gentleman today? As with most days—well, let’s say 1199 of them—I want to be a man. I won’t say a happy man, but a man provides. And I’m trying. I always am.

But, my Braxton is gone.

Again, I’m trying to keep Virgil from the same fate. For as long as I can. He has a veterinary appointment tomorrow, so AHEM:

“Shots,
shots,
shots,
shots,
shots,
shots!”

Not a day goes by that I don’t remember the last two that B took. Or was it three? Hmm.

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame.” I did that to my furry son. And now to my lovely wife? You’re still here, but Braxton isn’t. What about me?

I’m keeping my head above water. But nobody likes seeing that. So I’m lying here. Waking up, I gasp for air with an expletive upon my lips. No wonder Virgil stays off the bed. And our other children? If I can go through the day without mentioning Braxton. Or saying anything scandalous or scary or that makes someone else sad. Not even now, love. As I can exist… without happiness. I can’t without sadness or FEAR. It won’t go away.

If I am going to wake up wet, with bad words, and wanting another baby. I’d rather be with you, yeah. You keep drowning me in your love. Are you crying from all the laughter, pleasure from… or relief from me not talking about Braxton?

Sigh. Even a sigh means that I’m still breathing. I’m alive. Only the flooding never stops, my love. It’s been raining for so long. And I’m sure even Braxton’s Aunt has grown sick of me. She said she would bring a boat if we ever had another situation like Noah and God’s Wrath, as read in the Bible. But both she and you never knew it would be B III’s passing that would bring this.

I understand what you’re asking of me. I’m a drowning man pulling you under. You’re asking me, when will I grow. Life gave me lemons; I can’t make it lemonade. And I’ll make apple juice because I need to see a doctor. And no man is an island. Water, water, everywhere. Virgil’s Drowning Risk B

1199 Days Without B III, Day 640 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 311 ~Virgil, That’ll B Love~

Love’s not out there. There’s not much love in here, either. If I want to find Love and Happiness. Can I do better than an Al Green song? There are books on love. I don’t have pretty women waitin’ out there. And B’s gone. Virgil, That’ll B Love.

Tuesday, May 7, 2024

Tale 311 ~Virgil, That’ll B Love~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Always, be it all of two seconds, twenty seconds of insane courage, or the best thirty seconds of my life. (Snickers).

Give me a minute, my love. Am I trying to be funny? Perhaps because laughter is my shield against tears. They say if you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything. But if you can make a woman cry… I don’t want to do that unless it’s tears of joy that I’ve brought to your eyes.

I lost happiness way before I lost my firstborn, and I’ve only been out looking for one. I swear love has many different faces. And nowadays, all I see is tears in the eyes of all those around me. But I don’t count myself in that. My tears are all for my son, my Braxton.

God is love? Braxton is love. So are you. But what comes through that door…

You know me, my love. I’m no conservative. A man of tradition? A man provides. Husbands, Fathers, and real men do that. Mine did that. And I had the things I had before you, even before B III. How can I say that he doesn’t love me? I fear I can’t do the same for our family. Fixing things, Grieving…

Again, a man provides, and that has to be enough—all the money in the world. So, I call myself a man because I give this family what it needs. You’ll never go without—ever!

Virgil, our furry “son.” seems to sense my unease. He’s eating well, has his bed and comfy spots, and has even given you more room since he no longer sleeps on the bed. His eyes, like the flickering signal on our DISH Network, tell a different story. They reflect the uncertainty and worry that I’m grappling with. Blankness and emptiness

Love, my dear, is a force that can transcend financial constraints. It’s about the intangible things that money can’t buy, the things that all the wealth in the world couldn’t have saved Braxton from. Yet, I believe in its power. Would I have noticed his condition sooner if I hadn’t been so consumed with work? I wonder, love. These are the questions that haunt me.

Let me tell you what I don’t see: love being advertised, even with all the Mother’s Day stuff everywhere. I’ll always love my Mama, but I hope she takes that love and passes it to her grandchildren and Virgil, too. I love you and hope you take it for our little ones and, yes, Virgil as well. But love for me? To be open instead of broken. Everything is broken, always. Virgil, That’ll B Love

1192 Days Without B III, Day 633 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 304 ~Virgil, Time To B~

What time is it? Before writing wedding vows, I’ll list the top ten questions I hate the most. Like, what are you reading? It’s even furry kids or flirty women. Either way, they go down. Eww! No time for g-d jokes. “Virgil, Time To B.”

Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Tale 304 ~Virgil, Time To B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… My love for you is boundless; it’s a feeling that grows with each passing day. If life is a game, then love is the instruction booklet. Learning to play again

I’m not sure how much I believe I can now. Do I love my girl or my grief more, love?

And here come the waterworks. I swear the last thing I need is to cry. I haven’t got the flooding from last year out of my mind. It was a water heater and an air filter… (Grumbles). There’s a reason I haven’t turned on the air conditioner yet. What? But even if we’re billionaires, I’m protecting the hearth and home. If only “he” were here…

My firstborn, my Braxton. Always and forever. I promised my son and you, my love. Only it’s been a while since it’s been just us. But B is in my heart and head on Sunday, April 28, 2024. He’ll be here when you see this Tuesday, April 30, 2024. It’s funny that I can’t time-travel past my mourning and grief.

My groin or you G-Spot. I’m sure the critic would love to hear about that—a time when I’m not Braxton’s Dad. And we have kids of our own. Let me be a man, and you are my woman. Period.

Inevitably, I go back to crying about Braxton. I didn’t pour the Bisquick, but Braxton… Yeah, Braxton will always be my pancake. And there isn’t a time without missing him.

That’s one thing he has over our kids. “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing a (blah) door?!” When Braxton was alive, how many times did I have intimate moments with anyone? Seriously!? 161 celibate…

That’s why I relate somewhat to Ethan from the book Bikini Days by Michael Dalton. Ethan’s daughter makes him swear off women after Ethan’s wife walks out on them. I’ll Never Fall In Love Again. My Braxton was much better.

He wouldn’t want me to swear off the things or those I love. I’m sure he would have loved you. And if he could see his siblings, I’ll even include Virgil in that. But the time, my love. If only you could feel as I do. The breath I took after Braxton’s very last one.

Everything feels wrong. It’s as if I have all the time in the world and then none at all, love. I keep talking about turning forty and if somehow I can make that… Anything, love.

There’ll be time to read Bikini Dawn. Thankfully, it will come out before E-Day. I’ll still be thirty-nine, my love!

Live, learn, and love myself, us, this family, always and forever. Virgil, Time To B

1185 Days Without B III, Day 626 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 297 ~ That’ll B Lovely, Virgil~

Life is… beautiful? Everything is… awesome? That’ll be… lovely. And how about existence? I hate this phrase, but “it is what it is.” If something is “good” for others, that is great. Then there’s my boys and their lives, Huh. That’ll B Lovely, Virgil

Tuesday, April 23, 2024

Tale 297 ~ That’ll B Lovely, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But what does that mean now? That I pay? Part of me yearns for you…

Probably you want me to close my eyes, close my eyes, and relax, think of nothing tonight… That nothing is my firstborn son, Braxton. And tonight? It’s Thursday, April 18, 2024. Braxton is still gone. And this coming week? God, I want to join him.

Braxton is love. So are you. So are they. The family we have made together, this existence, the life that we share… I didn’t ask some father in heaven or one down here on Earth.

Love, I didn’t even ask the one I see staring back at me through the mirror. So, what did I want in this existence? It doesn’t come with a menu. But how much is that doggie in the window? I don’t know. Braxton was/is lovely.

And now I sit here in bed. Why… After seeing that little face. The touch of B III’s soft fur. I would hear Braxton’s happiness every time I returned. The taste of food before sharing.

Smell… please ew. In fifteen years, B learned to go outside. And “with that in mind, a soft, nice-smelling girl’s better.” With all the songs I listen to, why can’t I hear I love you?

I know you do, baby. Despite me being a baby. And you asking me anything and everything except the obvious. Because if you ever did, it would be cruel, ugly, and vile, my sweet love. And I’m trying. When I saw V, I thought, “That’ll be lovely.” A fur kid.

His life’s far from lovely.

But again, what about ours? What About Us, What About The Rest Of Us? Anyone? Indeed, everyone is asking me that. And it’s not fair to any of you. To just be lovely, like something to be picked up for dinner. I mean, there’s lovely. And then there’s, well, more. I can sing Isn’t She Lovely about each of our daughters. And what about our sons. I hope they are better men than me. Wasn’t B III, and what about Virgil? Hmm. Virgil Vivi’s trying.

Everything is lovely and awesome. But I want it to be… Well, how it never will be. Braxton should be here to see it. And if I can love as my firstborn son loved me, love. That’ll B Lovely, Virgil

1178 Days Without B III, Day 619 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 290 ~Love Bugs B, Virgil~

I haven’t been bitten by the love bug in some time. When’s the last time I’ve been outside other than to let V out. Or go anywhere I didn’t want to go. What bugs me the most. Breathing. I wish I could make it worthwhile. Love Bugs B, Virgil

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Tale 290 ~Love Bugs B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But while you always tell and show me, I miss Braxton—you and them. Virgil?

Money makes such a lovely sound. But is it love? For the love of money. If I had it 1,171 days ago, would it have saved my firstborn son, my B? Food insecurity? Never, love! Today, Sunday, April 7, 2024. I’m only thinking about all the problems in the kitchen. Braxton’s food still sits on the counter. Three years? Is that a problem? Frightening, Mad?

Even now, I want to yell out to Braxton to take his medicine or fill up his food and water bowls. I do that for V anyway, but it’s not the same, and it sounds stupid. Doesn’t sound like love…

Like the kitchen faucet that’s acting up, the shelf that fell down, or a messed-up drawer. This mess, I swear.

If that ain’t love, then I don’t know what love is. A well-loved house that I should fix for the living. In doing so, I would honor my Braxton. It’s slowly eating away at me.

Inspecting for termites when I would instead be blasting my way through Terminids, Automatons, and whatever else in the game Helldivers 2. What’s one more distraction? Hmm. I need anything and everything to make some noise. Grieving, Hating, but Loving…

Trying to remember what love sounds like bugs me. Only I want to hear it. You and me, always and forever, my love. I want to place the two of us under the covers. Really?
Hey, it beats me thinking about Maiko Kaneda all day. Your husband has a type.

The two of us love bugs. Those two-legged children of ours, bugging mommy and daddy. Someday, I might even look at Virgil as such. One of our kids. But he didn’t have a choice, my love. I can’t say I was even bitten by the love bug. More like I was bitten by my B. And it would have pained me to leave without Virgil. Only I was being selfish or even obtuse with love. Seriously, what’s with all my talk of bugs anyway? Extermination?

Breathing bugs me. Every breath I take. Take this morning for example. I lied here reading, and Virgil was shoving against me. As long as I didn’t look at him, I could imagine Braxton, love bug. Love Bugs B, Virgil

1171 Days Without B III, Day 612 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 283 ~Hear B, Listen V~

When was the last time I heard “I love you” and felt something? When was the last time I said it? The last time I heard love and felt it was in Braxton’s last breath. And I’m sure I’ll be hearing it well into the future. “Hear B, Listen V.”

Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Tale 283 ~Hear B, Listen V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But I can tell why it has to be this way. My son is gone.

Braxton, my Soldier, Soul dog, indeed my firstborn Son. Even now, while I time travel. Today is Sunday, March 31, 2024, Easter Sunday. He Is Risen? Well, not my Braxton.

Today, how many more will pay for my sins? There ain’t no coming back from all these things that I’ve done. But that’s the thing, my love. I’m still gone, and you’re still waiting for me. Even though I don’t look a thing like Jesus. I know I need to cut the music off, love. I need to turn off all the noise and stay awake. Why? Because love’s louder?

Honestly, that’s my problem. The last time I heard love was my Braxton’s last breath. And for 1,164 days, I’ve only been listening. But hearing?

Whatever DEI! And you know what I wanted to say.

More like they want to say. But why is hate so much easier to explain? Why do the things I hate come so naturally? Like myself for what happened to Braxton. You tell me, I loved, and I loved, and I lost you. You sing to me. As long as I’m breathing, always and forever.

So why don’t I want to hear it? Am I making any sense at all, my love? Love is confusing.

It’s the way it has to be sometimes. But how much longer? As I said before, look how far I am from this day. Look how far I’ve come from the day my B fell. I still hear it, love.

Only you know you, man. My love language is physical touch. And when it comes to you and me, I feel everything. And you’ll do anything to make me feel your love. Actions, right? More than words? And everything that comes with it. But you want me to hear you. You need me to. But all I hear is pain, yours, mine, my boys, B III and 2V, our kids.

And I listen to everything else, like some white noise. I am sleeping away existence. Today, love doesn’t lie bleeding. It’s sleeping. And I have to find my way, darling.

Honestly, that’s the only time I’ll say you remind me of my Ma, baby doll. I’ll let you love me. Hear? Hear B, Listen V.

1164 Days Without B III, Day 605 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

When I say I will “Go The Distance,” it’s like my mind finding anything intelligent. Or having a family that includes more than a four-legged friend. What about being *happy.* There’s no space not with my grief and fear. “And Virgil wants room.”

Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Tale 269 ~B Gives Virgil Space~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… To the moon and back? How about if the sun should refuse to rise, love?

You’ll have to forgive a friend here or there texting me about space. And you know your husband has always been into Star Wars. For that, I won’t apologize. But distance, space, and the void? My love, have you yet to understand how great my son was in this existence?

What do I mean was? Take yesterday, for example. Anytime I’m afraid, or something becomes too overwhelming. I remember the worst thing I’ve survived. Euthanasia! Specifically, the loss of my firstborn son, B III. And then everything else seems livable.

Anyway, yesterday afternoon, I took Virgil to the groomers. While waiting for him, I saw a dog crate that doubled as a nightstand. A place for B III and 2V, my love. My furry sons.

The idea of making space for them both together? And yet Braxton in his box. Or wherever he exists. And Virgil lying in a soft bed underneath. They’re both far.

Remember earlier this morning when Virgil Vivi was upset over the storm? Whether he was in our room or Braxton’s, the space between him and me doesn’t matter, my love.

I was driving to pick Virgil Vivi up, and I was thinking. If PetSmart harmed him? I have two words for them. John Wick. But I can’t say I love Virgil. Nowhere near my Braxton

But What About The Rest Of Us? V isn’t going anywhere. And there are always you, our children, and a few friends. I’m not counting myself. The man I am. I want him far away.

Only that’s the man you fell in love with. Underneath these clothes is an endless story. And the man you chose. I swear, Shakira, Shakira, ha-ha! Bragging about my manhood?

But seriously, The Space In Between Us, my love, this is what I’ve been thinking about all morning. I keep saying that Braxton is sending me messages from books lately. Between how to keep a fur buddy’s memory alive and Darrow protecting his friends, too.

Now, ask me what that tells me about being close to you, my love. All of my fears, the fence, and our finances. Braxton got so close to me before I knew anything, love. While you had me saying Somethin’ Stupid. B Gives Virgil Space

1150 Days Without B III, Day 591 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 048 ~Will Needs His Space~

I get pretty tongue-tied when I talk to women, and then I go ahead and write something like this… It’s a reason I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid, and people call me a headcase. Will Needs His Space.

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Gospel 048 ~Will Needs His Space~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be mad? Well, I know quite a few Republicans that hate so much more. Only I don’t want to speak about hate because I love you. Talk about Doublethink, I tell you all the time you take my breath away. Sometimes it’s like I’ll overflow with everything about you. Today though, it was like being in love with the stars, how high can I go. It was like loving a grave. Make no mistake, I would die for you. I was reminded of that poem Suicide’s Note.

“The calm,
Cool face of the river
Asked me for a kiss.” –

Langston Hughes

You’re not “Equipped” to be loved this much. Well, you did marry me, after all. Now you know I come out of nowhere with my music, but today I want to share my favorite song with you, one anyway. It’s called Moondust (Stripped; EP Version) by Jamyes Young. He sings about burying his love, and for some reason, this stands out to me. It’s not only because of my novel. I named “The Business,” “The Moondust.” I’ve been thinking about how many friends I’ve lost and how I’m always afraid that someday you’ll leave. One wrong word, and it’ll be like something out of the movie “Pontypool.” You say I’m a hard man to know, and I want to be so close but not today. Hell all the movies, music, my manuscript, to tell you the truth. Okay then, I’m mad as Hell, My Love.

That’s what I’m burying, this rage that I feel at so many that I know it would send you running. As the song goes, I bury my love to give the world to you. I won’t have you rob me of my hate, but I can’t give it to you.

I bury my tears everywhere else but not where you can see them. A man ain’t supposed to cry; yeah, another song. I need to lie down, though, and I don’t know if you or my firstborn could help me.


I bury myself in my work… no, not like that. Let me work harder or, as people say, all work and no play. I need some awesome video game carnage, and does that make me sound like a kid again.

Now that’s what I won’t do? I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that. I keep burying the man I am, and for what? I love you.

Only Will Needs His Space.

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.