Different Strokes...of the Whip?

Well, this topic has generated some interesting comments, as I’d anticipated. Maybe a little more one-sided than I’d guessed, though. So here I am, playing devil’s advocate, as it were.

I don’t think there’s a single damn thing wrong with the BDSM lifestyle. Nope. Not a thing. As long as all participants are consenting, mentally and emotionally healthy adults. While I admit my personal experience ends at “bondage lite,” I can certainly see the romance in a well-written, emotionally charged BDSM book. I think reading about things outside one’s comfort zone helps one explore and find out exactly where that comfort zone is. Curiosity is healthy. And playing with new things helps keep anyone’s sex life interesting. Again, as long as all parties are in agreement. No one should EVER be forced or shamed into trying anything that makes them uncomfortable.

One aspect of the BDSM trend in books is, however, something that puzzles me. I’m talking about emotional BDSM, or verbal abuse. I get the appeal of being tied up, flogged, blindfolded, whatever. I DO NOT get the appeal of being called bitch, slut, or anything else. I simply cannot find any romance in that sort of encounter. My understanding of the D/s relationship is that a Dom or Domme should want to take care of their sub(s). Not revile them. I have been told however, that this is a popular market niche. Fine. I don’t get it, but that’s why there are different books for different tastes.

So does BDSM sell books? In some cases, it seems to. My one book with a “light bondage” warning, however, is the lowest selling of all my EC titles, so maybe not so much for the light stuff. But even without delving deep into the lifestyle—which takes a lot of research to get right, elements of bondage can spice up any erotic fantasy. In a book, or in real life.

Umm. Control Issues?

That's the first thing I think about when discussing bdsm. Bondage. Dominance. Sado-masochism. Ummm. EWWWW. This isn't something that appeals to me. I grimace if I see it portrayed in movies and, unless it's handled very well, I don't love it in books. Don't get me wrong. I write erotica but I prefer stories that portray a couple as equal, loving partners. A little game-playing is okay. I mean, if the hero has a stash of ties and wants to do a little "tie me up, tie me down" stuff, that's no big deal. I have no problems with light spanking either. The heroine and hero know it's not about total domination but about spicing up their sex life and having some fun.

I just finished writing a story about a woman who was an absolute control freak. She refused to let herself be vulnerable enough to trust. The hero plays a few games with her in an effort to break down that iron-hard wall. It worked out for my heroine because she learned that it was okay to not be "perfect" and it was okay to let her guard down and allow someone else into her life. This is about as bdsm as I get. Just enough to make a point.

It's the extremes that bother me. The chains, whips, and ball gags throw me for a loop. Don't know what is so sexy about a woman or man on their knees begging for love or respect or whatever. Sex shouldn't be about dominance. It should be about love, caring, and affection. It should be about giving and receiving pleasure and that's, to me, the bottom line. Anything that causes another pain borders on abuse and doesn't ring my bells.

Bionic Dildos Spontaneously Masticate...??

BDSM. Hmm. Brother, daddy, sister, mother. Nope, that's not right. Oh! Blatant Devotion for Single Mothers. Um, no, not that either, although they certainly deserve high praise. Blissful Dream-State, Mmmm. Oh wait, that was last night. How about Bio Degradable Slut Monkey?

Sigh. You see this is a tough topic for me. I haven't the foggiest clue about this subject except the initials. I did however, get some tutelage from Anny the other night by way of web searches. Wow, doggies! The things that are out there. Including the highlight of my evening, a puff the magic dragon tattoo on completely covering a man's hoo hoo. Never seen anything like it but I would certainly run the other direction if that thing reared its, um, head at me. Can you imagine being the tattoo artist? Yikes.

But he did have a piercing. I've now been introduced to nipple rings, nipple ornamentation that doesn't require piercing, chains, weights, tuning forks for the urethra (no, I'm NOT kidding), and manacles of all kinds. I've boiled it down to this: It's not my business what you do. Have fun.

I'm not one for spanking, whipping, or any kind of begging. No, just give it to me. But there are so many levels of the whole BDSM thing that it seems to encompass the very light titillating tease to the very bold pain/pleasure response. Then the masters and submissives... I don't know. It throws me out of whack, I guess.

However, if you're looking for a great author who has this and romance too, check out Brynn Paulin's work.

I'm sorry I don't have more to say on the subject, but this gives you time to head over to my other blog here, and put a comment in for your chance to win a free download. I'm only running the contest today, so head over there before time runs out!

Intimate Jewelry

Ahhhh. Corsette piercing. Isn't it pretty? No? I suppose it's all in the eye of the beholder. The subject this week is BDSM. Piercing and body jewelry is one small aspect of the BDSM world. There are others... cuffs, collars, leashes, and an increasingly bizarre collection of gear--some of which we won't discuss on this blog.

I was challenged to discuss body jewelry. In a tasteful way. Hmmm. I have earned a certain reputation for having body piercing in quite a few of my books, along with tattoos. I believe that some people might even believe that I'm a depraved person. However, one only has to query the internet using the word piercing along with the name of a body part to find out that my books border on the vanilla when it comes to piercing.

Piercing and the accompanying jewelry frequently plays a prominent part in romances featuring BDSM. In the master/submissive relationship, the master might request his submissive to consent to piercing so that she is wearing body jewelry that identifies her as his. That jewelry can include, though it certainly is not limited to rings, chains, barbells, and charms. Depending on the depth of the bondage part of the relationship, less permanent non-piercing body jewelry might be employed.

Body jewelry is sold on a myriad of web sites, but the actual piercing should be done by a professional. There are too many nerves involved, not to mention other things to fool around with the possibility of permanent damage. If one of my readers is tempted to experiment, then certainly make sure that you seek the services of a professional who is familiar with body piercing.

For those new to experimentation, I suggest trying out non-invasive jewelry first. There is a lot to choose from if only you surf the web.

Anny
Anny's Blog

Drums of the Nunne'hi

Drums of the Nunne’ hi

Here is a blurb:

Carl and Jessica fell for each other during their final year of high school. Unfortunately, they come from different worlds. The people of their small Oklahoma town were taught from an early age that they should steer clear of the kids from the Cherokee reservation, and the animosity flows both ways. Carl's mother is heartbroken to learn that her only son has strayed from his people by falling in love with a white girl, while Jessica's family sees any relationship with a 'Rez Kid' as the ultimate betrayal—and they want Carl to pay for their daughter's mistake.

What happens next will awaken an ancient power thought long gone from the world of man. The pounding of the drums may mark their coming, but it's the screams that will let you know the Nunne'hi have arrived...

“Tommy, get up! We gotta keep fuckin’ movin’, man,” Josh shouted over his shoulder to his fallen friend.
Tommy lay writhing on the ground, grasping his ankle, trying with all his might not to scream. The moon shone brightly, but it still wasn’t enough light to keep him from stepping in a hole as they ran for the tree line. At six foot, two hundred pounds, it didn’t take much for his ankle to buckle from the momentum.
“Son of a bitch, it hurts. I think it’s broken,” he panted, rolling over onto his knees, trying to move it around without damaging it further.

“It’s probably just sprained. Gimme your hand,” Josh offered, casting quick glances behind them. “We can’t stay out in the open like this. Those sons a bitches can see us here. We need to move now!”

Tommy tried shifting his weight to the left side enough to enable him to walk. It only took him a couple of steps to realize he wasn’t going to be able to do it alone. He looked back the way they had came, faced forward again, gauged how far they still had to travel before they could reach the cover of the trees.
He began, hopping on one foot. “Josh, I’m not going to—”
“Quiet.” Josh held up his hand, cocked his head to one side. “You hear that?”
Only the creaking sound of the leather in Tommy’s letterman’s jacket could be heard on the night air. “I don’t hear anything,” Tommy replied in confusion, looking behind them for signs of pursuit.

“That’s sactly my point! I don’t hear nothing; no crickets, no birds, there isn’t even any wind blowin’ through the grass,” he said in a soft voice.
They watched the darkness roll toward them from across the field. The moon was going behind some clouds, robbing them of their only source of light. It moved with a speed that defied the stillness of the night.
“Josh, I can’t walk. I need your help.” Tommy flinched at the sound of his own voice breaking the silence.
“Uh-uh. You’re on your own, pal. Best O luck to you then,” Josh said before trotting several paces away from him.
“Josh!” Tommy cried out, his shoulders sagging in disbelief.
“Just kiddin’, dude. Let’s get a move on,” Josh said, appearing at Tommy’s side so quickly it almost made him fall again.

Josh put Tommy’s arm over his shoulder and they resumed their flight. Tommy silently thanked the Lord they were about the same size. The darkness was all but complete. As they pressed on through the void, both boys found it hard to breathe. They were immersed in a blackness that was almost tangible. Their footprints were muffled as they trudged through the grass.

The lack of light and sound left them disoriented and Tommy prayed they were still heading in the right direction.
Thump.

A single sound rolled through the darkness, like a single heartbeat pounding out of a giant’s chest. The sound carried through the air like a cannon shot. The echo died away slowly, leaving him with a cold shiver.

“What the fuck was that?” Josh asked, panic evident in his voice.
“I don’t know, but unless you really want to find out, I suggest we pick up the fucking pace.” Tommy wished he could find a way to keep his teeth from chattering.
“Maybe it’s the others. They could be just tryin’ to scare us.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Who could joke about this—I don’t know if anyone else made it out of there. Hell, I was surprised to see you.”
“Did you actually see any of ‘em get it?”
“No, I couldn’t see anything in that house, but I heard—”
Lightning crackled to life above them. It snaked across the sky, momentarily sparing them from the darkness. Tommy was relieved to see they were still traveling in the right direction.

“It must’ve been thunder we heard,” Josh offered in a voice that lacked conviction.
“Before the lightning? I don’t think so.” Tommy redoubled his efforts, realizing how far they still had to go.

The thunder made its presence known in a low and grumbling voice. They nearly stumbled in their haste to reach the trees. The silence that followed was brief, replaced by the heartbeat from before.
Thump.

This time the sound continued with a steady pulse. Soon it began to take on a rhythm that unnerved him to no end. It was a sound they knew all to well, but it had never affected them this way.

“It’s drums. It’s those fucking drums. Oh shit, Carl was right, dude. The drums are back. We never should’ve come here. We never should’ve done that. Why o why did I listen to you? What the hell did you get me into?” Tommy began to rant as his panic set in.

“Shut up, Tommy. We’re almost there. Get a hold of yourself. If we make it to the trees, we can hide.”
“How can you be so fucking sure?” He wondered if anywhere would be safe for them now.
“The darkness works both ways, right? They won’t be able to see us any better than we can see each other. If we can make it to the trees, we can hide there until mornin’,” Josh replied.

Tommy wondered which of them he was trying to assure. “It was dark in that house and they found us. I can still hear their footsteps.”
“And the screams, we can’t forget those God-awful screams. It had to be some sort of fuckin’ prank. Carl had somehow set the whole thing up. He knew we were comin’ and wanted to teach us a lesson.” Josh flinched, as a leaf caressed his cheek in the dark void.

The lightning lit up the sky again just as they passed the first set of trees. They pushed deeper into the woods, moving slowly, feeling their way through the branches. They wormed through the trees for what felt like an eternity.
Josh helped Tommy sit down with his back against a trunk. “This should be far enough. I can barely hear the drums from here.”

Tommy tried to make himself comfortable, but not surprisingly under the circumstances, he failed. “What are we gonna tell everybody?”
“That we were attacked by the Rez Kids.” Josh slid down beside him with a grunt.
“Carl was the only Rez Kid I saw tonight and he wasn’t putting up much of a fight, as I recall.”

“Well, whatchu wanna tell ’em? I’m not gonna say anythin’ that’ll make us sound crazy. This town’s too small to get a rep like that.” Josh shook his head. “I say we blame it on the whole God damned reservation and let them explain what happened.”
“Hey, the drums have stopped.” Tommy perked up for the first time since the sun went down hours ago. “I bet that means they have quit looking for us.”
“Thank God! They were drivin’ me crazy. I still say we wait for first light ‘fore we try to—” The burgeoning storm interrupted him.

A brief flash of lightning revealed a man standing in front of them, not more than five paces away. He wore buckskins tucked into calf-high moccasins. Seven feathers dangled from his hair, dancing in the wind that had sprung up an instant before. He stood before them with his arms crossed over his chest, a tomahawk gripped firmly in his right hand. His skin was gray and cold, not red like the boy they had carried into that old house. When the lightning faded, his eyes were still aglow. They emitted an eerie blue-white light that lapped at the edges of his eyelids. He slowly turned that horrible gaze on them and Tommy gasped.

They both whimpered. Tommy didn’t know whether to pray for more light or pray it wouldn’t return. His stomach knotted as his mind tried to make sense of the image he had just seen. Was it a trick of the lightning or could he see through the stranger? Tommy remembered the picture in Carl’s sketchbook, but he still couldn’t believe it was real. It had to be a trick of the lightning. Maybe his guilt was making him see things.

The lightning flashed again to reveal the apparitions everywhere the boys looked. There must have been hundreds of angry faces bearing down on them. The ghastly warriors brandished their weapons and circled the tree. When the darkness returned, the air filled with the screams of the damned and the sounds of splintering wood.

Guest Blogger: NJ Walters

I want to take just a moment to say how happy we are that N.J. Walters is serving as our guest blogger this week. Please take the opportunity to check out her links for more information!

Religion and the Paranormal:

By N.J. Walters

The Paranormal fascinates most of us. It is the lure of the unknown, of the possible and the impossible. Vampires, ghosts, werewolves and magick all abound within the pages of fiction. But there are books of non-fiction that deal with the same subjects. Some of these are religious texts that examine faith, the afterlife, death, birth, demons and angels.

Personally, I don’t think there is any dilemma between religion and the paranormal. As a reader, I can pick up a book on vampires or werewolves and immerse myself in that world for several hours. Does it change my beliefs about life and spirituality? Not really. What is does is entertain. It also helps to open up my mind and remind me that we don’t know everything there is to know about this world in which we live.

In a world where all the lines are blurring and information is streaming at us at an alarming rate, it seems only natural that religious ideas would find their way into mainstream fiction in one form or another. I’ve seen a rise in the number of books that feature ghosts, demons and angels. The themes of good versus evil, redemption and salvation all play a roll in these books. And why not? These are subjects that have obsessed mankind since the beginning of time, and certainly since the beginning of the written word. The Epic of Gilgamesh and Dante’s Inferno immediately spring to mind and there are hundreds more examples of writers who have examined these subjects in their works.

These themes are just too big and too interesting to be ignored by the fiction writer, and especially the romance writer. Love, sacrifice, and redemption are too juicy for a writer to resist. I’ve written my share of paranormal stories, including my Dalakis vampires. Seen as an abomination by some, these vampire brothers have their own code by which they live. They are dark by nature, but there is good as well.

In Stefan’s Salvation, Stefan Dalakis has reached a crossroads in his life. He is filled with despair at never finding his mate, the woman who is meant for him. After hundreds of years of searching, he has given up hope. It is then he finds Laurel Rose. She is the light to his dark, but there is evil surrounding her, waiting to do her harm. Like a fallen angel, Stefan rises from the darkness to protect Laurel Rose, and in doing so, finds his own salvation.

Religious imagery sometimes finds its way into my books, mainly because they’re symbols that are universal and understood by all. A church is a sanctuary, or it should be. If it’s not, then that makes the situation all the more horrific. In the fifth Dalakis Passion book, which has not yet been contracted, an old stone church high in the Carpathian Mountains is important to the plot. The place itself and the elderly priest who resides there are of great comfort and help to the heroine who is morally and spiritually lost.

As the elderly priest, Father Patrescu, says to one of the characters, “God made you as you are,” he paused slightly before continuing, “and I like to believe that he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

There is plenty of room for the paranormal, and indeed religion, in books. After all, the goal of books is to entertain and to sometimes make us think. In the strange and wonderful world we live in, it is always a good idea to remember that we don’t know or understand everything. Things that were deemed impossible and mere fantasy hundreds of years ago are now considered fact. What remains constant is mankind’s search for meaning and understanding of our life here and beyond.

Emotional~Sensual~Satisfying Reads!

http://www.njwalters.com/

http://www.njwalters.blogspot.com/

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/awakeningdesires/ (newsletter group)

A Legal Affair—Samhain Publishing

Jackson’s Jewel—Ellora’s Cave

Enticements—Ellora’s Cave Print Book

Stefan’s Salvation

N.J. Walters

Book 3 of Dalakis Passion

Stefan Dalakis has been wandering the countryside for months. Ever since both his brothers found their mates, loneliness has been his constant companion. He’s been searching for five centuries but has been unable to find the one woman whom he can love. When his travels lead him to a small roadside bar in North Carolina, he overhears a conversation that will change his life forever.

Laurel Rose McCaffey always knew she was different. Some say she has the Sight. Others say she’s a witch. Most are afraid of her, but they’ve left her alone. That’s always been fine by her. But now strange things are happening and the peaceful life she’s built for herself is being threatened. Developers want her land and a lot of the townsfolk are pressuring her to sell.

A dark stranger enters her world, a man who both fascinates and frightens her. As her world spirals out of control and the threats escalate into outright violence, Laurel Rose turns to the one man she’s come to trust—a vampire!

Can I Get an Amen?

I believe in a higher power, I just don’t know what to call it. I’m spiritually adrift you might say, but I don’t really see it that way. I’ve studied many different religions in my quest to fill the hole created when I became aware that I didn’t buy into the theories of those around me. Some remained strictly academic, some kindled the warm and fuzzy, which signaled I might finally be on the right path, but all served a role in my spiritual growth. My hole is filled. Not with the Love of a single omnipotent Essence, but rather with the realization that there is no one true Holy Being and anyone who doesn’t worship them in the exact same way is wrong and therefore doomed for all eternity.

A God (or Goddess for that matter) is only as powerful as the belief of their followers and how far those souls are willing to go to protect or spread that belief. Wait… what? How can a creature that is omnipotent be rendered impotent by lack of belief? Let me rephrase: The NAME of that all-knowing higher power is only as powerful as the belief of its followers. Whether you evoke that name in your darkest hour or breathe it into a pillow as you ride a wave of bliss, it is only as potent as the belief you put behind it.

If you’ve found a definition, a name or even a face to put on that divine creature and it makes you feel whole, then I’m happy for you. I really am. Just don’t expect me (or everyone around you) to share that belief with blind devotion, but then… who am I to say you’re wrong?

I think this exchange sums it up best:

“Kyle, I am sure you are aware that the world is in horrible shape right now. You can’t turn on the TV without seeing a story about war or terrorists.”
“Or murder and just about any other crime imaginable,” Harold added, nodding his head for emphasis.
“Yeah, there seems to be a lot going on in the world right now,” Kyle agreed, letting out a sigh.
“Well, with all of this turmoil surrounding us everyday, it is easy to lose focus on what’s really important.”
“And what’s that?” Kyle’s eyebrow arched.

“Your relationship with God. There should be nothing more important in this world than that,” Harold explained.
“Kyle, have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior?” Dan asked.
“There is no God,” Kyle said indifferently, causing both men to stare at each other in disbelief.

“Beg pardon?” Harold finally managed.
“There is… no… God. I know, I found it hard to believe to, at first anyway, but Nina showed me the light.”
“Who’s Nina? Is that who you worship now?” Other Kyle stared, eyes wide.
“Have you forsaken Jesus for a pagan goddess?” Harold was near flabbergasted.
“Are you a pagan goddess?” Kyle turned to look into the kitchen.
“You tell me,” Nina said, smiling back at him without moving from her chair. “I’ve been called worse.”

Harold craned his neck to peer into the kitchen. “Would you invite your friend in here to join us? Perhaps she could discuss some of her ideas with us.”
“Oh, I am sure she will join us shortly,” he agreed with a chuckle. “You have no idea how happy it will make her to visit with the two of you.”
“Perhaps some of the articles in here might help you to better understand that, not only does God exist, but with his love, the world doesn’t seem so… scary.” Harold handed him a copy of Watchtower Magazine.
“Are these actually quotes from the bible?” Kyle flipped through the pages with apparent interest.

“Yes, you can find a passage in the bible that can be applied to any situation that arises in your daily life.”
“It is as powerful today as it was when it was written,” Dan chimed in.
“More so,” Harold added.
“I have read the bible before, many times actually, but some of these quotes are a little… strange to me.” Kyle confessed.
“We use quotes from the new world translations of the Holy Scriptures,” Harold assured him.
Kyle laughed and shook his head as he continued to peruse the magazine.
“What’s so funny?” Harold asked hesitantly.
“So, what you are saying is that you had a team of people go through the bible and interpret meanings from scriptures that would further your cause.”

“We took no more liberties with the translations than the King James Version did.”
“I’m not saying you did, but we both know an interpretation is nothing more than one person’s view of what a passage is supposed to mean. Furthermore, if said person goes into the task with an agenda, i.e. recruiting others to share his beliefs, then his interpretation is going to be biased.”

“But it’s still the word of God. Surely, you—”
Kyle cut him short. “No, it’s man’s word. God has never put pen to paper. Every bit of scripture ever written was done so by a man.”
“Not just men, but men with a vision.” Harold attempted to defend his faith. “These words may not be directly from God’s hand, but they were clearly written by men who felt his presence. Surely, you can’t suggest—”

“They were still men with an agenda. They preyed on man’s fear of the unknown to coerce him into living what they felt was a moral life. They were nothing more than con-artists with great writing skills.”
“How can you say such a thing? Jesus Christ, the son of God himself, died so you could live and you dismiss such an act as nothing more than a con?”
Kyle laughed. “He didn’t die for me; he died because he pissed off the wrong people and didn’t know how to talk his way out of it.”
“Sir, I will not sit here and subject myself to such blasphemy any longer,” Harold said, rising from his seat.

“Oh, lighten up, Harold. I am just having a little fun with you. How can you expect to convince others to abandon their beliefs and follow yours without testing your own resolve?” Kyle motioned for him to return to his seat. “Besides, you still haven’t met Nina yet.”



I believe that someday I will die and I will be held accountable for my shortcomings and my deeds both good and bad. How I lived my live will determine what happens next. To that end, I live everyday as if it were my last, but I always try to do the “right” thing along the way. I know right and wrong are subjective and really boil down to a matter of perspective, but if it feels right to me, that’s all that matters in my mind. If I’m not breaking any laws and not infringing on the wellbeing of others, how bad could it really be? Will my rejection of well… most every organized religion I’ve ever heard of earn me eternal damnation? Maybe… but which hell would I be sent to?