Literotica Authors and Their Books (For Literotica Authors ONLY)
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srlmort
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Bianca and I did a SWAP!
For today, January 15th, Bianca Sommerland and I did a swap...
Please see the excerpt from her new book, Rosemary Entwined on http://rawiyaserotica.blogspot.com
And I am on her blog doing a guest post - http://imnoangelauthorsblog.wordpress.com/
Join us, leave comments on our work!
For today, January 15th, Bianca Sommerland and I did a swap...
Please see the excerpt from her new book, Rosemary Entwined on http://rawiyaserotica.blogspot.com
And I am on her blog doing a guest post - http://imnoangelauthorsblog.wordpress.com/
Join us, leave comments on our work!
Zeb_Carter
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Thanks Ami.
sr71plt
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Excerpts of a nice 14 January 2011 Dirk Devas review of the GM novella Silas’s Choice (the expanded version, published by eXcessica) by habu (a pen name of sr71plt). The sequel to this, Choke Hold, will by published by BarbarianSpy in February 2011.
The full review can be found at http://www.darkdivasreviews.com/?p=3648
. . . Silas’s Choice by habu is a mile-a-minute, erotic—and I do mean erotic—thriller that, surprisingly enough, I didn’t have too much difficulty following.
I say this because the author has used an intriguing device to tell the story; throughout the book there are five different first-person points-of-view. . . .
The vividness of habu’s characters and the build-up of tension through the action and intrigue were enough to keep me glued to the pages. But then other books by this extremely talented author have done the same.
Erotic, oh hell yes… out-and-out sexual domination and titillation rule the pages. The romance is saved for Silas and Ward and even that is colored with eroticism. And again I’m so there.
In closing, let me just say that there is far more to Silas’s Choice than one reading will ever allow you to see; it’s a book that improves upon acquaintance, over and over again. If you enjoy reading about extremely erotic and scorching man-on-man sex, then you will find this book very much to your liking, just as I did. And then, you too, will find yourself a stalk…er fan of the author named habu.
Rated 4 Delightful Dark Divas by Kathy!
The full review can be found at http://www.darkdivasreviews.com/?p=3648
. . . Silas’s Choice by habu is a mile-a-minute, erotic—and I do mean erotic—thriller that, surprisingly enough, I didn’t have too much difficulty following.
I say this because the author has used an intriguing device to tell the story; throughout the book there are five different first-person points-of-view. . . .
The vividness of habu’s characters and the build-up of tension through the action and intrigue were enough to keep me glued to the pages. But then other books by this extremely talented author have done the same.
Erotic, oh hell yes… out-and-out sexual domination and titillation rule the pages. The romance is saved for Silas and Ward and even that is colored with eroticism. And again I’m so there.
In closing, let me just say that there is far more to Silas’s Choice than one reading will ever allow you to see; it’s a book that improves upon acquaintance, over and over again. If you enjoy reading about extremely erotic and scorching man-on-man sex, then you will find this book very much to your liking, just as I did. And then, you too, will find yourself a stalk…er fan of the author named habu.
Rated 4 Delightful Dark Divas by Kathy!
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sr71plt
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Released by BarbarianSpy on 17 January 2011, a GM short story anthology by Sabb, Surprise Encounters.
Blurb:
I am not sure what to say to introduce this collection of twenty-four erotic short stories to you. None involves a motor mechanic, but one involves miners, and there is a barbarian story. They all involve surprises, but some are surprises that occur in relationships and some are surprise sexual encounters with strangers, some are rough and some are romantic. Most are meant to be nothing but erotic and entertaining, yet a couple are very serious. Some were first written to entertain “him,” the man I most want to entertain and who inspires me as no one else does, and a few were not.
I think the best thing to say about these stories is “may you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed them when I wrote them.”
Excerpt:
“Meet me in the pavilion,” Carlo whispered.
“But . . .”
“Wait for me in the pavilion,” Carlo whispered again, turning my body away from him, but pulling me into his belly so I could feel his erection pressing up behind me. “See how much I am interested in fucking you?” he added in that deep, husky, amused voice of his.
“Ugh,” I grunted, rubbing my butt against his rod, more than ready for the fucking he said he was interested in. “Then why can’t I come into the house?” I asked grumpily.
I’d had a two-hour drive getting to the mountainside mansion he was apparently staying at, and now we were standing outside, behind a hedge that ran from the side of the house and along the parking area on the top end of the circular drive. Carlo had been waiting for me and had dragged me behind it as soon as I had arrived.
“My car is just back up the drive,” I suggested, “We could fuck in that.”
“No. No. The pavilion. I will meet you there, Andrew, as soon as I can,” he said persuasively, “Oh, caro mio. Caro mio,” he crooned, kissing the back of my neck as I melted and groaned. “You will go through the hedge into . . . onto the side garden, and there you will see the pavilion at the end of the lawn, by the pond. You cannot miss it. But there is a gate in the hedge that runs along that side, and you will have to find that to get through to the lawn,” he explained, all the time running his hands around my body, up under my windcheater, and feeling for and squeezing my nipples and pecs.
Then he ran a hand down and cupped my growing dick and tight balls and briefly played with them, murmuring, “Caro mio, oh, you are so beautiful.”
“Ohhh, yes,” I moaned, reaching back to his butt, “You won’t be long?”
“As soon as I can get away,” Carlo promised. He released me, I turned, and we fell into a brief kiss before he pushed me away. “You will wait for me in the pavilion—promise,” he added, sounding a bit worried.
“Of course,” I promised, reassuring him, “But don’t be long.”
Why we couldn’t fuck right then, somewhere closer, I had no idea. But Carlo obviously knew what he wanted, and his dark Latin good looks, hard fitness model’s body, and long, thick cock had me under his spell. And that “caro mio” spoken in his husky voice, with its incredibly sexy accent, melted me completely.
He pushed me away, and I headed off in the direction he had pointed me toward. It took me some time to find the gate he had mentioned, and I was getting a bit cold and very fed up with whatever game he was playing by the time I passed through it and onto the lawn on the other side. My enthusiasm wasn’t helped by the weather. It had been still and cold, but just as I passed through the gate, snow began to fall.
“Great. Snow,” I grumbled and wondered what I was doing there.
But I knew, of course. Carlo, with his black, curly hair, big, dark bedroom eyes, and seductive voice, was irresistible.
Blurb:
I am not sure what to say to introduce this collection of twenty-four erotic short stories to you. None involves a motor mechanic, but one involves miners, and there is a barbarian story. They all involve surprises, but some are surprises that occur in relationships and some are surprise sexual encounters with strangers, some are rough and some are romantic. Most are meant to be nothing but erotic and entertaining, yet a couple are very serious. Some were first written to entertain “him,” the man I most want to entertain and who inspires me as no one else does, and a few were not.
I think the best thing to say about these stories is “may you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed them when I wrote them.”
Excerpt:
“Meet me in the pavilion,” Carlo whispered.
“But . . .”
“Wait for me in the pavilion,” Carlo whispered again, turning my body away from him, but pulling me into his belly so I could feel his erection pressing up behind me. “See how much I am interested in fucking you?” he added in that deep, husky, amused voice of his.
“Ugh,” I grunted, rubbing my butt against his rod, more than ready for the fucking he said he was interested in. “Then why can’t I come into the house?” I asked grumpily.
I’d had a two-hour drive getting to the mountainside mansion he was apparently staying at, and now we were standing outside, behind a hedge that ran from the side of the house and along the parking area on the top end of the circular drive. Carlo had been waiting for me and had dragged me behind it as soon as I had arrived.
“My car is just back up the drive,” I suggested, “We could fuck in that.”
“No. No. The pavilion. I will meet you there, Andrew, as soon as I can,” he said persuasively, “Oh, caro mio. Caro mio,” he crooned, kissing the back of my neck as I melted and groaned. “You will go through the hedge into . . . onto the side garden, and there you will see the pavilion at the end of the lawn, by the pond. You cannot miss it. But there is a gate in the hedge that runs along that side, and you will have to find that to get through to the lawn,” he explained, all the time running his hands around my body, up under my windcheater, and feeling for and squeezing my nipples and pecs.
Then he ran a hand down and cupped my growing dick and tight balls and briefly played with them, murmuring, “Caro mio, oh, you are so beautiful.”
“Ohhh, yes,” I moaned, reaching back to his butt, “You won’t be long?”
“As soon as I can get away,” Carlo promised. He released me, I turned, and we fell into a brief kiss before he pushed me away. “You will wait for me in the pavilion—promise,” he added, sounding a bit worried.
“Of course,” I promised, reassuring him, “But don’t be long.”
Why we couldn’t fuck right then, somewhere closer, I had no idea. But Carlo obviously knew what he wanted, and his dark Latin good looks, hard fitness model’s body, and long, thick cock had me under his spell. And that “caro mio” spoken in his husky voice, with its incredibly sexy accent, melted me completely.
He pushed me away, and I headed off in the direction he had pointed me toward. It took me some time to find the gate he had mentioned, and I was getting a bit cold and very fed up with whatever game he was playing by the time I passed through it and onto the lawn on the other side. My enthusiasm wasn’t helped by the weather. It had been still and cold, but just as I passed through the gate, snow began to fall.
“Great. Snow,” I grumbled and wondered what I was doing there.
But I knew, of course. Carlo, with his black, curly hair, big, dark bedroom eyes, and seductive voice, was irresistible.
PrincessErin
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.....
Last edited:
sr71plt
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Released by Cyberworld Publishing on 23 January 2011, a GM anthology, Canine Connections, by habu (a pen name for sr71plt):
BLURB:
Canine Connections provides a compendium of five explorations of the bonding of a gay man and a canine sidekick. Four of these novelettes have been previously published; a fifth is a never-before-published bonus.
My Dog Jack is the journey of a young man who wants nothing to do with a dog but learns that Jack becomes everything to him and helps make him into a better, more-giving person. In Dire Conditions, a young man searches against all obstacles to be reunited with his dog. Saving Cleo is about a man at the dimming end of his life, struggling to make sure that his faithful canine companion lives on in well-earned comfort after her master has faded away. In Tank ’n Bull, a semipro football player who has possibly been knocked in the head one too many times finds understanding and acceptance—and another being to care about beyond himself—in a dog he whimsically purloins and takes on a journey of futility. The bonus story, Amos’s Andy, is another journey story of a young man who is drawn into danger by his inability to let go of his attachment to the dog he has lost and his mistaken belief that life holds nothing worthwhile for him.
In various ways, all of these stories are of a man’s struggling journey for self-worth, self-assurance, and understanding—with his canine companion his side.
EXCERPT:
They stood there, plastered to each other, rocking gently back and forth, and through his grief and tears, Neal could feel the increasing arousal of the coach. The man was breathing heavily. He groaned and murmured under his breath, “God, Neal.”
“Coach,” Neal responded in a strangled voice. “Shit, Coach.”
But Coach Wilson was already moving his mouth to Neal’s and stifling any further conversation. He was pushing Neal back onto his desk and forcing his legs between Neal’s thighs.
Twenty minutes later, the door to the corridor opened, and a surprised “Harold! What in the hell—?” rung out in a voice that unmistakably was that of the school headmaster.
His eyes still tear stained, and his heart beating fast, Neal broke out from underneath Coach Wilson, stooped to scoop up his jeans and briefs, and pushed past the shocked headmaster and through the gym and out into the cold night.
Neal drove out into the darkness, crying and shuddering from what he had done—shocked more because he had enjoyed it and had wanted it to continue than because of who he had been doing it with. He knew it was his vulnerability at this moment that had led to this. He had no idea whether he could ever go back—or even if he wanted to. His whole world was imploding in on him.
He drove, almost blindly, without direction, until the Camaro ran out of gas. He looked around him for the first time after the engine had sputtered to a halt and found himself on a dirt road next to a railroad siding. He crawled out of the car and leaned against the hood, wrapping his arms around his chest and reliving what he’d done back there in Coach’s office. He didn’t want to think about it, but at the same time it was all he could think about.
“Shit,” he muttered. He wanted to do it again. There was no use denying that. But everything was so screwed up. What could he do now? How could he go back? There certainly wasn’t anything at home for him to go back to now that Rex was gone. Had the headmaster called his parents yet? Neal shuddered at that thought.
That was when he heard the bark.
He looked up. There was a train standing on the railroad siding. Steam was coming out from underneath it like it was about to move. The barking was coming from a closed rail car with an open door in its side.
“Rex?” Neal called out, even though he knew that was nonsensical.
He could see the dog, in the opening of the rail car. And it looked like Rex. But a younger Rex. It was barking at him, but it wasn’t a menacing bark. It was just like Rex’s “wanna play?” bark from years earlier.
Neal strode toward the rail car. When he reached it, he raised his hands to the floor of the car at the opening and the dog licked his face. He heard the whistle of the engine and the sound of machinery grinding, and felt steam rising up around his body, and strong hands gripped his upper arms and pulled him up into the dark car as the wheels of the train started to turn.
BLURB:
Canine Connections provides a compendium of five explorations of the bonding of a gay man and a canine sidekick. Four of these novelettes have been previously published; a fifth is a never-before-published bonus.
My Dog Jack is the journey of a young man who wants nothing to do with a dog but learns that Jack becomes everything to him and helps make him into a better, more-giving person. In Dire Conditions, a young man searches against all obstacles to be reunited with his dog. Saving Cleo is about a man at the dimming end of his life, struggling to make sure that his faithful canine companion lives on in well-earned comfort after her master has faded away. In Tank ’n Bull, a semipro football player who has possibly been knocked in the head one too many times finds understanding and acceptance—and another being to care about beyond himself—in a dog he whimsically purloins and takes on a journey of futility. The bonus story, Amos’s Andy, is another journey story of a young man who is drawn into danger by his inability to let go of his attachment to the dog he has lost and his mistaken belief that life holds nothing worthwhile for him.
In various ways, all of these stories are of a man’s struggling journey for self-worth, self-assurance, and understanding—with his canine companion his side.
EXCERPT:
They stood there, plastered to each other, rocking gently back and forth, and through his grief and tears, Neal could feel the increasing arousal of the coach. The man was breathing heavily. He groaned and murmured under his breath, “God, Neal.”
“Coach,” Neal responded in a strangled voice. “Shit, Coach.”
But Coach Wilson was already moving his mouth to Neal’s and stifling any further conversation. He was pushing Neal back onto his desk and forcing his legs between Neal’s thighs.
Twenty minutes later, the door to the corridor opened, and a surprised “Harold! What in the hell—?” rung out in a voice that unmistakably was that of the school headmaster.
His eyes still tear stained, and his heart beating fast, Neal broke out from underneath Coach Wilson, stooped to scoop up his jeans and briefs, and pushed past the shocked headmaster and through the gym and out into the cold night.
Neal drove out into the darkness, crying and shuddering from what he had done—shocked more because he had enjoyed it and had wanted it to continue than because of who he had been doing it with. He knew it was his vulnerability at this moment that had led to this. He had no idea whether he could ever go back—or even if he wanted to. His whole world was imploding in on him.
He drove, almost blindly, without direction, until the Camaro ran out of gas. He looked around him for the first time after the engine had sputtered to a halt and found himself on a dirt road next to a railroad siding. He crawled out of the car and leaned against the hood, wrapping his arms around his chest and reliving what he’d done back there in Coach’s office. He didn’t want to think about it, but at the same time it was all he could think about.
“Shit,” he muttered. He wanted to do it again. There was no use denying that. But everything was so screwed up. What could he do now? How could he go back? There certainly wasn’t anything at home for him to go back to now that Rex was gone. Had the headmaster called his parents yet? Neal shuddered at that thought.
That was when he heard the bark.
He looked up. There was a train standing on the railroad siding. Steam was coming out from underneath it like it was about to move. The barking was coming from a closed rail car with an open door in its side.
“Rex?” Neal called out, even though he knew that was nonsensical.
He could see the dog, in the opening of the rail car. And it looked like Rex. But a younger Rex. It was barking at him, but it wasn’t a menacing bark. It was just like Rex’s “wanna play?” bark from years earlier.
Neal strode toward the rail car. When he reached it, he raised his hands to the floor of the car at the opening and the dog licked his face. He heard the whistle of the engine and the sound of machinery grinding, and felt steam rising up around his body, and strong hands gripped his upper arms and pulled him up into the dark car as the wheels of the train started to turn.
R. Richard
Literotica Guru
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Second Chance: King of Mesodania is now up in Club Lighthouse.
Second Chance: King of Mesodania is the 11th novel in the Second Chance series. It's an action adventure as Justin Imperiale expands his Kingdoms.
Justin's Kingdom of Ariby is threatened with invasion by the much larger country of Mesodania. Justin sees a fatal weakness in the government of Mesodania. Justin then prepares to out think the forces of Mesodania.
It's non-stop action. Check it out!
Second Chance: King of Mesodania is the 11th novel in the Second Chance series. It's an action adventure as Justin Imperiale expands his Kingdoms.
Justin's Kingdom of Ariby is threatened with invasion by the much larger country of Mesodania. Justin sees a fatal weakness in the government of Mesodania. Justin then prepares to out think the forces of Mesodania.
It's non-stop action. Check it out!
Bianca_Sommerland
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- Aug 20, 2009
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- 1,198
My second book has been contracted and will be coming out in March! It's called Deadly Captive and it's my first Erotic novel. Also, Rosemary Entwined will be available in print as of February 14th. I'm holding a contest for a free copy, so if anyone's interested, come visit my blog 
sr71plt
Literotica Guru
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- Jul 18, 2006
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Launched on 3 February 2011 by eXcessica, a GM short story romp on the roof by habu (a pen name of sr71plt), On the Roof.
Blurb:
Young Steve Remington is a man willing to do just about anything for other men to get himself on the fast track to acting on Broadway or in Hollywood films. In this unabashed rollicking story of discovery and of “making it” by being willing to “be made,” the actor uses his natural male-on-male turn-on talent to rise from an Indiana community college drama class prop room to Hollywood movies via New York stages and casting couches and California skin flick studios. Along the way, Steve learns that he has fetishes that make him soar: rough servicemen, power tools, and “doing it” on the roof. Who knew that getting ahead could be such fun?
Excerpt:
I was working my way to the center of the world already that summer, and I got two stage credits banked for my fall classes at Kreswald—and a reputation that I’d give it up for a good part in a play. There were producers and directors aplenty in New York City who took notice—and advantage—of that, so I had plenty of work. Who knew that my drama teacher back in Indiana would know of one of the golden keys to success in the theater world?
Until Ray, the sex I gave away was, to me, all for getting ahead in the entertainment world. It was no more than what everyone was doing, either male or female. I didn’t feel much of anything. I would have lied, schemed, or stolen to make it on Broadway or in Hollywood. There was nothing more important to me than getting on stage or in a movie. So, giving sexual favors—after the first time—was no big deal. At least that’s what I told myself. With Ray, though, something else altogether started. With Ray, I found I could have sex with a man and actually enjoy it, seek it out, and that there were sexual fetishes that I melted to. And the guy didn’t have to have a fake British accent; he could just be some Joe Blow serviceman—as long as his service was thick and vigorous.
Blurb:
Young Steve Remington is a man willing to do just about anything for other men to get himself on the fast track to acting on Broadway or in Hollywood films. In this unabashed rollicking story of discovery and of “making it” by being willing to “be made,” the actor uses his natural male-on-male turn-on talent to rise from an Indiana community college drama class prop room to Hollywood movies via New York stages and casting couches and California skin flick studios. Along the way, Steve learns that he has fetishes that make him soar: rough servicemen, power tools, and “doing it” on the roof. Who knew that getting ahead could be such fun?
Excerpt:
I was working my way to the center of the world already that summer, and I got two stage credits banked for my fall classes at Kreswald—and a reputation that I’d give it up for a good part in a play. There were producers and directors aplenty in New York City who took notice—and advantage—of that, so I had plenty of work. Who knew that my drama teacher back in Indiana would know of one of the golden keys to success in the theater world?
Until Ray, the sex I gave away was, to me, all for getting ahead in the entertainment world. It was no more than what everyone was doing, either male or female. I didn’t feel much of anything. I would have lied, schemed, or stolen to make it on Broadway or in Hollywood. There was nothing more important to me than getting on stage or in a movie. So, giving sexual favors—after the first time—was no big deal. At least that’s what I told myself. With Ray, though, something else altogether started. With Ray, I found I could have sex with a man and actually enjoy it, seek it out, and that there were sexual fetishes that I melted to. And the guy didn’t have to have a fake British accent; he could just be some Joe Blow serviceman—as long as his service was thick and vigorous.
R. Richard
Literotica Guru
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- Jul 24, 2003
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My latest novel (number 27) Go Naked In The Software is up in Club Lighthouse.
The scene is an almost deserted former mining camp in the western desert. Six boys and six girls remain in the camp to develop an Internet ap in secrecy. The girl's mothers won''t let them stay unless they're married. Thus, there are six hasty marriages. The development of the software ap goes well. However, tensions among the newly married lead to public nudism and then partner swapping. Things run a bit out of control, with one pair of lovers stranded in the middle of chaos. However, romance develops.
Check it out!
The scene is an almost deserted former mining camp in the western desert. Six boys and six girls remain in the camp to develop an Internet ap in secrecy. The girl's mothers won''t let them stay unless they're married. Thus, there are six hasty marriages. The development of the software ap goes well. However, tensions among the newly married lead to public nudism and then partner swapping. Things run a bit out of control, with one pair of lovers stranded in the middle of chaos. However, romance develops.
Check it out!
Zeb_Carter
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- Jun 15, 2006
- Posts
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Just released the first in a series - The Michelle Diaries - on Amazon at the Kindle store.
Follow two students' adventures through medical school. Their trials, their sorrows, their joys, their excitement and their loves, share their journey to become the best they can be, no matter the obstacle.
Diary #25
Yes, I keep a diary, or a journal as some call them, this is the twenty-fifth in my series, which I started when I first learned to write. I write this preface in all but the first. I am no writer I just jot down my feelings and experiences as they occur, I worry not about spelling or grammar, just the facts. One day I will let my daughter read these, if I have a daughter. Not so much to show her I was once young, but to show her life can be fun, full of excitement and wonder.
Michelle
This is now available at Smashwords.
Zeb_Carter
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- Jun 15, 2006
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Just released at Smashwords, my new novella Time and Again.
Blurb:
The future was a cold, bleak place. Nothing human survived on the continents of the world. A single…you can't call him human…travels back in time. With the aid of two friends, he attempts to stop what is the future, from happening. Along the way he reunites one couple and helps another to understand their child. Unfortunately, if he succeeds in stopping the events that cause humans to be no more, all will be forgotten.
Excerpt:
Falling through the grayness, lost in a reality of my own, I dropped through the air hitting the ground hard. How long I lay there, I do not know, but when I woke, I was cold. Cold wet snow blurred my vision. I struggled to my feet, staggering a few meters down the hill on which I landed. Falling forward, I tumbled in the snow, further down slamming against the trunk of a tree. Stunned, I sat there looking up watching the snow, fall from the sky, along with flashes of lights from out of nowhere. My bones ached and my joints tingled. They told me they would.
I don't know how long I sat there watching the snowfall, surprised by the wetness that hit my face. I started to shiver as a gust of wind swirled the white flakes around me. Pulling my canteen from its holder on my belt, I drank until the liquid quenched my need. Searching in the cold snow beside me, I found my rifle. Shaking it free of the clinging white flakes, I slung it over my shoulder. Groaning loudly I struggled to my feet again to continue my journey.
Looking around I found a landmark and knew instantly where I was. Pushing off the tree I headed west through the woods. I had to find the house. I knew the address, but not which house it was on the street. It was dark, the streetlights glowed an eerie greenish white, casting shadows in the recesses of the shrubbery. Finding the house among the row of houses, I saw all was dark inside. Around the side of the garage peeking in the window, I saw both bays were empty, nobody home. With my back to the wall, exhaustion overtook me as I slide down to rest, hoping she would be home directly.
Last edited:
R. Richard
Literotica Guru
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- Jul 24, 2003
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- 10,379
Second Chance: Kings of Mesodania is now up in Fictionwise.
Second Chance: King of Mesodania is the 11th novel in the Second Chance series. It's an action adventure as Justin Imperiale expands his Kingdoms.
Justin's Kingdom of Ariby is threatened with invasion by the much larger country of Mesodania. Justin sees a fatal weakness in the government of Mesodania. Justin then prepares to out think the forces of Mesodania.
Another nice cover from Club Lighthouse
http://http://www.fictionwise.com/mindwise/books/Richard-SCMesodania.jpg
It's non-stop action. Check it out!
Second Chance: King of Mesodania is the 11th novel in the Second Chance series. It's an action adventure as Justin Imperiale expands his Kingdoms.
Justin's Kingdom of Ariby is threatened with invasion by the much larger country of Mesodania. Justin sees a fatal weakness in the government of Mesodania. Justin then prepares to out think the forces of Mesodania.
Another nice cover from Club Lighthouse
http://http://www.fictionwise.com/mindwise/books/Richard-SCMesodania.jpg
It's non-stop action. Check it out!
Last edited:
sr71plt
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- Jul 18, 2006
- Posts
- 51,870
Launched on 19 February by BarbarianSpy, a full-length GM novel of journey and discovery by habu (a pen name of sr71plt), Journey to Mirage.
Blurb
Having been duped by a Baltimore car chopping gang and dominated by the gang’s leader, young Rick Hernandez is left holding the bag on a police raid and enters a no-win probation period. He must stay away from the gang, but the gang leader isn’t going to let that happen. Additionally, the boyfriend of Rick’s mother wants more from Rick than from Rick’s mother. But all Rick wants to do in life is fix cars.
Dreaming of leaving Baltimore and all its pressures, Rick falls in with a cinematographer, Douglas Groton, who wants Rick to star in a gay male pornographic film, Journey to Mirage. This film takes fantasies Groton makes Rick weave during sexual encounters and films them as progressively intense sex scenes for the movie while the film crew travels across country from Baltimore to the Mirage Gay Male Art Film Festival held just to the west of Phoenix, Arizona.
The filming of Rick’s fantasies becomes increasingly intense and threatening during stops in central Virginia, Asheville, New Orleans, Dallas, and Amarillo, and Rick fears for his safety and future when Groton starts introducing another “star” into the photo shoots. At the urging of a member of the film crew, Rick begins to pull away from the mirage of the goal to become a movie star by way of a win for Journey to Mirage at the film festival and to redirect his interests back to auto mechanics. But pulling away leads to even more dangerous sexual adventures in Santa Fe and Albuquerque, which put Rick back on the road to Phoenix when the movie wins the festival grand prize and Rick becomes a box office draw.
Only fate and the love of a man who is trying to save Rick from himself has a chance of stopping the relentless pull of the mirage of filmed sex in Rick’s life.
Blurb
Having been duped by a Baltimore car chopping gang and dominated by the gang’s leader, young Rick Hernandez is left holding the bag on a police raid and enters a no-win probation period. He must stay away from the gang, but the gang leader isn’t going to let that happen. Additionally, the boyfriend of Rick’s mother wants more from Rick than from Rick’s mother. But all Rick wants to do in life is fix cars.
Dreaming of leaving Baltimore and all its pressures, Rick falls in with a cinematographer, Douglas Groton, who wants Rick to star in a gay male pornographic film, Journey to Mirage. This film takes fantasies Groton makes Rick weave during sexual encounters and films them as progressively intense sex scenes for the movie while the film crew travels across country from Baltimore to the Mirage Gay Male Art Film Festival held just to the west of Phoenix, Arizona.
The filming of Rick’s fantasies becomes increasingly intense and threatening during stops in central Virginia, Asheville, New Orleans, Dallas, and Amarillo, and Rick fears for his safety and future when Groton starts introducing another “star” into the photo shoots. At the urging of a member of the film crew, Rick begins to pull away from the mirage of the goal to become a movie star by way of a win for Journey to Mirage at the film festival and to redirect his interests back to auto mechanics. But pulling away leads to even more dangerous sexual adventures in Santa Fe and Albuquerque, which put Rick back on the road to Phoenix when the movie wins the festival grand prize and Rick becomes a box office draw.
Only fate and the love of a man who is trying to save Rick from himself has a chance of stopping the relentless pull of the mirage of filmed sex in Rick’s life.
Carl East
I finally found the ONE!
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2000
- Posts
- 3,219
Free E-Books
Hi guys/gals, hope all is well? I'm feeling stupid now and the reason is, I've been going around telling people in blogs all over the net about my E-Books and forgot to let people here at Lit know. So to rectify that blunder I thought I'd come in to give you links to my free E-Books.
You can find me in most big E-Book sites such as Amazon, B&N, Sony etc, but I prefer to let you have my free books from Smashwords. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/11702
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/41507
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/40656
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39172
All the best and good luck in your book marketing future, I wish you well.
Carl East
Hi guys/gals, hope all is well? I'm feeling stupid now and the reason is, I've been going around telling people in blogs all over the net about my E-Books and forgot to let people here at Lit know. So to rectify that blunder I thought I'd come in to give you links to my free E-Books.
You can find me in most big E-Book sites such as Amazon, B&N, Sony etc, but I prefer to let you have my free books from Smashwords. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/11702
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/41507
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/40656
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/39172
All the best and good luck in your book marketing future, I wish you well.
Carl East
sr71plt
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2006
- Posts
- 51,870
A nice 26 February 2011 Dark Devas 4-star review of habu’s GM Spy Candy anthology from eXcessica (habu is a pen name of sr71plt):
Full review at:
http://www.darkdivasreviews.com/?p=4172
Anthology Blurb
This twenty-story gay male anthology is pure fiction. Nothing like this would happen in the real intelligence world. Wipe from your mind even the slightest thought that anything like this has already happened in the collection of intelligence down through the ages. There would never be a special unit in U.S. intelligence, for instance, that collected intelligence the time-honored way—by sexual purchase and subornation. There would certainly be no use of male homosexuality and society’s censure of that to recruit and control foreign intelligence assets as is fantasized in these stories It’s true that the easiest, most assured way of collecting intelligence is not torture. It, rather, is the “giving” to someone who knows what you want to know what they want most in exchange for information they know. So, do enjoy this collection of short stories on a fantasy depiction of the techniques and methods of collecting intelligence through gay male spy candy. But don’t for a moment think that it does happen or that it ever could. It’s pure fiction, yes it is.
Excerpt of Kathy’s Dark Divas Review
After recently reading habu’s Silas’ Choice I knew that I had to read this anthology. Of course, reading the summary for Spy Candy was the clincher, but even so I really enjoyed the eroticism implicit in the Candy Store. And after having read these twenty incredibly explicit and tantalizing tales I’m assured once again that habu really, really knows his stuff! *whew*
One of the things that surprised me the most about these tales is that they are not all contemporary / Candy Store settings and I found myself really liking that. I thought it was also interesting to see that the same theme of [/i]Spy Candy[/i] could easily be placed anywhere throughout history … and, to some degree, it makes sense. Yeah, okay maybe it’s farfetched but the way that some of these scenarios are brought to fruition ring true or at least as possibilities; not that I’m an expert in espionage or anything, but I do love the genre. . . .
Honestly, I liked each and every story although there were two or three that I would label as favourites. In no particular order they are “The Message,” “Thorodian Horse” and “The Brigade.” They’re each different and it’s the characters as much as the intricacy of the plots that appeal to me so much. . . .
If you enjoy books that push the envelope, then I would suggest that this may be an anthology in which you would be interested; certainly you will not be bored. I would even go so far as to say that with Spy Candy habu has dished up a rich smorgasbord with an incredible variety that will appeal to a wide range of appetites. Very tasty indeed. *grin*
Rated 4 Delightful Divas by Kathy!
Full review at:
http://www.darkdivasreviews.com/?p=4172
Anthology Blurb
This twenty-story gay male anthology is pure fiction. Nothing like this would happen in the real intelligence world. Wipe from your mind even the slightest thought that anything like this has already happened in the collection of intelligence down through the ages. There would never be a special unit in U.S. intelligence, for instance, that collected intelligence the time-honored way—by sexual purchase and subornation. There would certainly be no use of male homosexuality and society’s censure of that to recruit and control foreign intelligence assets as is fantasized in these stories It’s true that the easiest, most assured way of collecting intelligence is not torture. It, rather, is the “giving” to someone who knows what you want to know what they want most in exchange for information they know. So, do enjoy this collection of short stories on a fantasy depiction of the techniques and methods of collecting intelligence through gay male spy candy. But don’t for a moment think that it does happen or that it ever could. It’s pure fiction, yes it is.
Excerpt of Kathy’s Dark Divas Review
After recently reading habu’s Silas’ Choice I knew that I had to read this anthology. Of course, reading the summary for Spy Candy was the clincher, but even so I really enjoyed the eroticism implicit in the Candy Store. And after having read these twenty incredibly explicit and tantalizing tales I’m assured once again that habu really, really knows his stuff! *whew*
One of the things that surprised me the most about these tales is that they are not all contemporary / Candy Store settings and I found myself really liking that. I thought it was also interesting to see that the same theme of [/i]Spy Candy[/i] could easily be placed anywhere throughout history … and, to some degree, it makes sense. Yeah, okay maybe it’s farfetched but the way that some of these scenarios are brought to fruition ring true or at least as possibilities; not that I’m an expert in espionage or anything, but I do love the genre. . . .
Honestly, I liked each and every story although there were two or three that I would label as favourites. In no particular order they are “The Message,” “Thorodian Horse” and “The Brigade.” They’re each different and it’s the characters as much as the intricacy of the plots that appeal to me so much. . . .
If you enjoy books that push the envelope, then I would suggest that this may be an anthology in which you would be interested; certainly you will not be bored. I would even go so far as to say that with Spy Candy habu has dished up a rich smorgasbord with an incredible variety that will appeal to a wide range of appetites. Very tasty indeed. *grin*
Rated 4 Delightful Divas by Kathy!
English Lady
Erotic English Rose
- Joined
- Sep 28, 2002
- Posts
- 48,011
I have 5 titles up and running with House of Erotica. The main one is The Victoria Blisse Collection and brings together the four single releases in one book.
This collection of four short stories from award-winning erotic author Victoria Blisse has a mix of themes and is sure to suit all tastes! The stories include:
Scentsual:
A femdom story set in the seaside town of Scarborough... Kelly is dominant and has a heightened sense of smell, so many of her memories, thoughts and feelings revolve around scents. She meets Rob on a trip to Scarborough and seduces him; their lust is instant but is Rob the submissive man Kelly really needs to fall in love with?...
Reluctant Muse:
Carrie is a shy student who works in a fast food joint to make ends meet. Her boss is a bully and she meets Jamie when he stands up for her. She's got terrible self esteem problems, but Jamie is an artist and wants to paint her naked. He's also a dominant and he wants to play with her submissive side. Can Carrie overcome her fears and the ghosts of her past to fully give in to Jamie?
Till the End:
Susan falls instantly in lust with a young student she employs to be one of the till staff at the supermarket where she is head of personnel. She is obsessed by him, but twice his age and convinced he could never be interested in her - that is, until the Works Christmas party proves differently...
Masquerading Hearts:
Laura is out for revenge on her cheating boyfriend Jack, but no matter how many men she beds, she can't get him out of her mind. A foursome with Jack in the mix might just be what she needs to get over him, but will it work?...
These short stories have been put together in this fantastic anthology, and have been specially formatted for today's e-readers by House of Erotica.
(if you follow the links on the story blurbs you go to the individual story page)
All titles are also available for Kindle US and Kindle Uk and should appear on iBookstore any day now too.
This collection of four short stories from award-winning erotic author Victoria Blisse has a mix of themes and is sure to suit all tastes! The stories include:
Scentsual:
A femdom story set in the seaside town of Scarborough... Kelly is dominant and has a heightened sense of smell, so many of her memories, thoughts and feelings revolve around scents. She meets Rob on a trip to Scarborough and seduces him; their lust is instant but is Rob the submissive man Kelly really needs to fall in love with?...
Reluctant Muse:
Carrie is a shy student who works in a fast food joint to make ends meet. Her boss is a bully and she meets Jamie when he stands up for her. She's got terrible self esteem problems, but Jamie is an artist and wants to paint her naked. He's also a dominant and he wants to play with her submissive side. Can Carrie overcome her fears and the ghosts of her past to fully give in to Jamie?
Till the End:
Susan falls instantly in lust with a young student she employs to be one of the till staff at the supermarket where she is head of personnel. She is obsessed by him, but twice his age and convinced he could never be interested in her - that is, until the Works Christmas party proves differently...
Masquerading Hearts:
Laura is out for revenge on her cheating boyfriend Jack, but no matter how many men she beds, she can't get him out of her mind. A foursome with Jack in the mix might just be what she needs to get over him, but will it work?...
These short stories have been put together in this fantastic anthology, and have been specially formatted for today's e-readers by House of Erotica.
(if you follow the links on the story blurbs you go to the individual story page)
All titles are also available for Kindle US and Kindle Uk and should appear on iBookstore any day now too.
AlexisShore
Virgin
- Joined
- Mar 3, 2011
- Posts
- 7
I'm Alexis, and my erotica is available on the Kindle (click the link in my signature to see), and Smashwords.
Enjoy
x
Enjoy
x
sr71plt
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2006
- Posts
- 51,870
Launched on 3 March 2011 by eXcessica, a slightly tongue-in-cheek “I am woman; hear me roar” anthology by habu (a pen name of sr71plt), By Her Own Wits.
BLURB
It’s a man’s world—except perhaps in the eyes and actions of strong women willing and capable of using their wits and wiles (and sometimes their men) to get what they want. By Her Own Wits offers six short stories of woman down through the ages, from ancient Egypt to the shop floor of a small manufacturing plant in Virginia, who, finding themselves in a bind, use their wits, wiles, and men to not only survive but also to forge ahead in clever, and sometimes humorous and “atta’ girl,” twists of plot.
EXCERPT
The greatest impression that Osten Westfalen made on Rosemund was that it was cold and barren—just the opposite of what she was sent to accomplish here.
Her own people loved her and reveled in her familiarity and her voluptuous gaiety as she moved freely about her father’s domains, dispensing smiles and playful suggestive banter to all, regardless of talents or station. Hers was a happy, warm, jolly kingdom.
And she had traded it for this pile of dark rock set high on a barren ridge, with nary a smile or cheery hello from any of those standing along the pitted and puddled coach track leading from the border of the northern German princedom, through the dreary town of Manz, and up to the duke’s castle. What Rosemund saw instead on the faces of those standing back to watch her passage was worry and a hint of hope swallowed in a sea of hopelessness. This, better than anything else, had brought home to Rosemund the responsibility that had been laid on her shoulders—a mere woman in a world of grasping men. In each face, Rosemund saw the recognition of looming war and destruction, and just the glimmer of hope that some miracle would stay the sword hands of the scheming counts—the grafs—of the duchy.
If Rosemund had expected better when she’d reached the castle and her carriage had rumbled over the drawbridge and under the portcullis and into the echoing inner courtyard, she was sadly mistaken. The faces on the menial servants in the courtyard were the same as those out on the muddy road, and only that of Ritter Horst, the duke’s chief adviser, who was standing on the outer steps of the inner hall, awaiting her arrival, offered a visage of hope.
The Ritter was a graybeard, but this aging of his hair may have resulted from the burdens of counseling and substitute governing, Rosemund thought, as he offered her his arm when she descended from the carriage. Belying the gray, he seemed a solid man, strong, big of bone, and ruddy in appearance. The picture of health. And Rosemund sensed a healthiness in him in another regard too, one of great importance to her. The look he gave her was one of self-assuredness, comfort in his own virility, and an instant interest in her that Rosemund found all too familiar. She was sure she could have him, if she wanted him—and in this lay her greatest weapon. He was of strategic importance in the duchy, and it was with less doubt and fear and trembling that Rosemund entered the great hall on his arm.
They followed the rich, red carpeting toward the dais at the far end of the hall. Many of the obviously minor nobles gathered on each side of the carpeting were looking at her with the same forlorn, doubting hope that Rosemund had seen on the faces of the peasants on the road. Those in finer array looked at her with more speculative visages. The latter seemed parted, dressed in three separate liveries, holding apart from each other, the men’s hands on their sheathed sword handles, and Rosemund could feel the palpable tension and danger in the room. No one would have had to tell her that the duchy was a tinder box awaiting the flare of an unbalancing event. She also saw that the men of the three counties looked at her with another aspect of speculation—a lustful one. Most of them wanted her. And, confident in who she was and the effect she had on men, Rosemund reasoned that the men who didn’t look on her with lust must be saving that look for other men. She marked the build and bulges of the men, as she passed, and was pleased that most were of good stock and interesting possibilities.
Her study of the men in passing, though, was neither purposeless nor a halting effort to delay her appearance between the bent-over old man she could see struggling off a throne on the dais at the apex of the hall. She was looking for something in particular. And when she saw it, she was surprised. But she smiled a little inner smile, intrigued by the challenge it posed, ready for the game.
She steeled herself as she stood before him now, the Herzog of Osten Westfalen, the Hapsburg Duke Stephan. She smiled her prepared smile, determined to prove out as the actress she knew she was.
BLURB
It’s a man’s world—except perhaps in the eyes and actions of strong women willing and capable of using their wits and wiles (and sometimes their men) to get what they want. By Her Own Wits offers six short stories of woman down through the ages, from ancient Egypt to the shop floor of a small manufacturing plant in Virginia, who, finding themselves in a bind, use their wits, wiles, and men to not only survive but also to forge ahead in clever, and sometimes humorous and “atta’ girl,” twists of plot.
EXCERPT
The greatest impression that Osten Westfalen made on Rosemund was that it was cold and barren—just the opposite of what she was sent to accomplish here.
Her own people loved her and reveled in her familiarity and her voluptuous gaiety as she moved freely about her father’s domains, dispensing smiles and playful suggestive banter to all, regardless of talents or station. Hers was a happy, warm, jolly kingdom.
And she had traded it for this pile of dark rock set high on a barren ridge, with nary a smile or cheery hello from any of those standing along the pitted and puddled coach track leading from the border of the northern German princedom, through the dreary town of Manz, and up to the duke’s castle. What Rosemund saw instead on the faces of those standing back to watch her passage was worry and a hint of hope swallowed in a sea of hopelessness. This, better than anything else, had brought home to Rosemund the responsibility that had been laid on her shoulders—a mere woman in a world of grasping men. In each face, Rosemund saw the recognition of looming war and destruction, and just the glimmer of hope that some miracle would stay the sword hands of the scheming counts—the grafs—of the duchy.
If Rosemund had expected better when she’d reached the castle and her carriage had rumbled over the drawbridge and under the portcullis and into the echoing inner courtyard, she was sadly mistaken. The faces on the menial servants in the courtyard were the same as those out on the muddy road, and only that of Ritter Horst, the duke’s chief adviser, who was standing on the outer steps of the inner hall, awaiting her arrival, offered a visage of hope.
The Ritter was a graybeard, but this aging of his hair may have resulted from the burdens of counseling and substitute governing, Rosemund thought, as he offered her his arm when she descended from the carriage. Belying the gray, he seemed a solid man, strong, big of bone, and ruddy in appearance. The picture of health. And Rosemund sensed a healthiness in him in another regard too, one of great importance to her. The look he gave her was one of self-assuredness, comfort in his own virility, and an instant interest in her that Rosemund found all too familiar. She was sure she could have him, if she wanted him—and in this lay her greatest weapon. He was of strategic importance in the duchy, and it was with less doubt and fear and trembling that Rosemund entered the great hall on his arm.
They followed the rich, red carpeting toward the dais at the far end of the hall. Many of the obviously minor nobles gathered on each side of the carpeting were looking at her with the same forlorn, doubting hope that Rosemund had seen on the faces of the peasants on the road. Those in finer array looked at her with more speculative visages. The latter seemed parted, dressed in three separate liveries, holding apart from each other, the men’s hands on their sheathed sword handles, and Rosemund could feel the palpable tension and danger in the room. No one would have had to tell her that the duchy was a tinder box awaiting the flare of an unbalancing event. She also saw that the men of the three counties looked at her with another aspect of speculation—a lustful one. Most of them wanted her. And, confident in who she was and the effect she had on men, Rosemund reasoned that the men who didn’t look on her with lust must be saving that look for other men. She marked the build and bulges of the men, as she passed, and was pleased that most were of good stock and interesting possibilities.
Her study of the men in passing, though, was neither purposeless nor a halting effort to delay her appearance between the bent-over old man she could see struggling off a throne on the dais at the apex of the hall. She was looking for something in particular. And when she saw it, she was surprised. But she smiled a little inner smile, intrigued by the challenge it posed, ready for the game.
She steeled herself as she stood before him now, the Herzog of Osten Westfalen, the Hapsburg Duke Stephan. She smiled her prepared smile, determined to prove out as the actress she knew she was.
sr71plt
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2006
- Posts
- 51,870
Launched on 4 March 2011 by BarbarianSpy, an ancient history GM fantasy by Dirk Hessian (a pen name of sr71plt), Labyrinth:
BLURB
“All of life for those of us with royal blood is risk—a labyrinth—Nyke,” the Second Queen of Phitio tells her precious son who is marked for sacrifice the minute the crown prince accedes to the throne of Phitio. “We are thrust in the maze by our birth and status, and we spend our lives twisting and turning, seeking the magic center. But even there, the labyrinth becomes a living thing—scheming and fighting against us and changing its avenues, its walls closing in on us. All we can do is continue to seek out the center and to survive for as long as possible.”
And from that moment forward the young Nyke is caught up in a complex web of scheming and double-dealing as, using his wits and his beautiful, lithe, young body and his ability to inflame the lusts of men of power, he works his way through the convoluted posturing and maneuvering of the warring nation states of Phitio, Brixia, Morini, and Cenopolis in an effort to gain the center of the labyrinth—both real and figurative—and to survive to return to Phitio in victory.
EXCERPT
“Come now, I know there must be a price.” The general placed his wine cup on the taboret next to the marble bench and looked scoffingly at the governor seated on the other bench. Both were looking out into the grassed courtyard, where the beautiful young and small blond man was reclining on the lip of a fountain, his back leaning on a gargoyle spouting water, and strumming a lute. The young man was naked except for a stark-white loin cloth and sandals that rose in criss-crossed leather straps up his finely sculpted calves, as he was taking in the sun’s rays. The whiteness of the cloth emphasized the deep tan of his lithe torso and legs. From where the two leaders were sitting, it looked like the sun’s rays radiated from his perfectly formed body and lit up the whole world. Off on the other side of the courtyard sat a middle-aged woman of both regal and attentive bearing, who was clearly keeping a watchful eye on the young man and a vigilant eye on the general and the governor as well.
“It isn’t as easy to shop for a prince as for a serving man,” the governor murmured. “Young Nyke there is an institution—a near god—in the land of Phitio. He is here for safety because the main island of Phitio is under siege from the Cenopolis forces. I am sure he would be highly decorative at your court in Brixia, but Nyke is not just the crown prince’s brother, he is our golden priest as well. He serves a function in the ceremonial succession in Phitio, and as the king’s time seems near, Nyke must be preserved to that day at all costs.”
“It is for nothing ceremonial that I want the lad,” said General Lykaios. And as he did so, he parted his robe to show the governor his need. “You know what I want of him. You guarantee he is a virgin?”
“Yes, of course he is still a virgin. That too is decreed in our customs. But, please, you must cover yourself, General. By all means don’t let the harridan over there see you exposed thus for the young man. That is the young prince’s mother, the second queen, although she continually declares she is first queen and that the mother of the crown prince has hidden the time of her own birthing so that her son will be recognized as in ascendance. You simply cannot understand how delicate these matters are in Phitio at this time—none of which is helped by being under siege by Cenopolis. Perhaps we need to turn to the discussions that brought your delegation here, General—discussions on what Brixia can do to help turn back—or, better yet, defeat—the forces of Cenopolis.”
“You intrigue me,” Lykaios said, ignoring the governor’s attempt to turn the conversation. “What is it about this young prince that makes you reticent about giving me access—for a price? You have said the prince is still a virgin. That’s hard to believe, given his age and beauty, and having been given into your hands. I saw you debauch two young lads last evening.”
“Prince Nyke is the Golden Priest. He must be at the king’s burial ceremony as a virgin.”
Lykaios gave the governor a gaze of noncomprehension.
“It is how we solidify our succession in Phitio. There are only two recognized sons of the king—the crown prince and the second son, Prince Nyke, although there is an undercurrent of support for Prince Nyke as the first son. To maintain loyalty and cut off any possibility of disunity in our multi-island nation, when the crown prince attends his inauguration as king, he must stand alone in the succession.”
“You mean?—”
“Yes, the ceremony of succession includes the sacrifice of all Golden Priests. And they depart this life as virgins—known neither by woman nor man. That keeps the succession pure and the possibility of bastard sons here and about unlikely. And now, shall we move into the palace and begin our talks on the mutual benefit of neutralizing Cenopolis?”
“Not until we talk about the price for Prince Nyke. I know you must have your price, and I know you are clever enough to find the way. If you are just going to waste luscious sweet meat like that, who needs to know whether he went to his death a virgin or not?
BLURB
“All of life for those of us with royal blood is risk—a labyrinth—Nyke,” the Second Queen of Phitio tells her precious son who is marked for sacrifice the minute the crown prince accedes to the throne of Phitio. “We are thrust in the maze by our birth and status, and we spend our lives twisting and turning, seeking the magic center. But even there, the labyrinth becomes a living thing—scheming and fighting against us and changing its avenues, its walls closing in on us. All we can do is continue to seek out the center and to survive for as long as possible.”
And from that moment forward the young Nyke is caught up in a complex web of scheming and double-dealing as, using his wits and his beautiful, lithe, young body and his ability to inflame the lusts of men of power, he works his way through the convoluted posturing and maneuvering of the warring nation states of Phitio, Brixia, Morini, and Cenopolis in an effort to gain the center of the labyrinth—both real and figurative—and to survive to return to Phitio in victory.
EXCERPT
“Come now, I know there must be a price.” The general placed his wine cup on the taboret next to the marble bench and looked scoffingly at the governor seated on the other bench. Both were looking out into the grassed courtyard, where the beautiful young and small blond man was reclining on the lip of a fountain, his back leaning on a gargoyle spouting water, and strumming a lute. The young man was naked except for a stark-white loin cloth and sandals that rose in criss-crossed leather straps up his finely sculpted calves, as he was taking in the sun’s rays. The whiteness of the cloth emphasized the deep tan of his lithe torso and legs. From where the two leaders were sitting, it looked like the sun’s rays radiated from his perfectly formed body and lit up the whole world. Off on the other side of the courtyard sat a middle-aged woman of both regal and attentive bearing, who was clearly keeping a watchful eye on the young man and a vigilant eye on the general and the governor as well.
“It isn’t as easy to shop for a prince as for a serving man,” the governor murmured. “Young Nyke there is an institution—a near god—in the land of Phitio. He is here for safety because the main island of Phitio is under siege from the Cenopolis forces. I am sure he would be highly decorative at your court in Brixia, but Nyke is not just the crown prince’s brother, he is our golden priest as well. He serves a function in the ceremonial succession in Phitio, and as the king’s time seems near, Nyke must be preserved to that day at all costs.”
“It is for nothing ceremonial that I want the lad,” said General Lykaios. And as he did so, he parted his robe to show the governor his need. “You know what I want of him. You guarantee he is a virgin?”
“Yes, of course he is still a virgin. That too is decreed in our customs. But, please, you must cover yourself, General. By all means don’t let the harridan over there see you exposed thus for the young man. That is the young prince’s mother, the second queen, although she continually declares she is first queen and that the mother of the crown prince has hidden the time of her own birthing so that her son will be recognized as in ascendance. You simply cannot understand how delicate these matters are in Phitio at this time—none of which is helped by being under siege by Cenopolis. Perhaps we need to turn to the discussions that brought your delegation here, General—discussions on what Brixia can do to help turn back—or, better yet, defeat—the forces of Cenopolis.”
“You intrigue me,” Lykaios said, ignoring the governor’s attempt to turn the conversation. “What is it about this young prince that makes you reticent about giving me access—for a price? You have said the prince is still a virgin. That’s hard to believe, given his age and beauty, and having been given into your hands. I saw you debauch two young lads last evening.”
“Prince Nyke is the Golden Priest. He must be at the king’s burial ceremony as a virgin.”
Lykaios gave the governor a gaze of noncomprehension.
“It is how we solidify our succession in Phitio. There are only two recognized sons of the king—the crown prince and the second son, Prince Nyke, although there is an undercurrent of support for Prince Nyke as the first son. To maintain loyalty and cut off any possibility of disunity in our multi-island nation, when the crown prince attends his inauguration as king, he must stand alone in the succession.”
“You mean?—”
“Yes, the ceremony of succession includes the sacrifice of all Golden Priests. And they depart this life as virgins—known neither by woman nor man. That keeps the succession pure and the possibility of bastard sons here and about unlikely. And now, shall we move into the palace and begin our talks on the mutual benefit of neutralizing Cenopolis?”
“Not until we talk about the price for Prince Nyke. I know you must have your price, and I know you are clever enough to find the way. If you are just going to waste luscious sweet meat like that, who needs to know whether he went to his death a virgin or not?
sr71plt
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2006
- Posts
- 51,870
Launched on 5 March 2011 by BarbarianSpy, a GM short story by habu (a pen name of sr71plt), Sailorboy.
BLURB:
Justin Thorenson, leaves the U.S. consulate in Baghdad, Iraq’s, Green Zone at the end of his two-year tour badly needing a restful assignment, not least because he has lost the only lover he has ever had, a Marine guard named Chad, in a fire fight beyond the walls of the protected compound. Thorenson is given an ideal “rest” assignment at the consulate in Okinawa. His recovery to steady footing is almost immediately challenged, however, in the form of the fun-loving, young and virile, but immature and sexually insatiable sailor, Ron Rivelle, and his friends. Ron slowly takes over Justin’s life and mind and body to the point that Justin once more is looking for an escape.
EXCERPTS:
“So, we meet again, Mr. Kadena who isn’t in the Air Force,” he said to me as I boarded the van, which had just enough seats for those taking the tour—and the only seat empty when I boarded was the one next to his. We were both in shorts and T-shirts and the seats were made for Japanese, so all the time we were bouncing up the road to the isolated castle ruins, our thighs and shoulders and arms were rubbing against each other. I don’t know what that did for the young sailor, but it made my blood boil.
Ron was curious about Baghdad once we’d gotten to the “how we got here” chitchat while the bus was rolling along, and I told him what a life-focusing experience it had been and, probably—now that I think back on it—unwittingly revealed more of myself and of the conditions and pressures I lived under there than I really should have. I know that I must have mentioned Chad more than a couple of times—although I’m sure I didn’t reveal the depth of our relationship. And I also must have mentioned that Ron reminded me in some ways of Chad.
I thoroughly enjoyed the outing—and not least because Ron and I stuck together while we were exploring the castle and because I opened to his great sense of humor and his exuberance in enjoying what he was doing—and in including me in his adventurous, innocently open world.
We talked even more freely and openly on the way back to Kadena. He said he’d tried to sign up for the tennis ladder at the Kadena USO but that it was fully booked. I said that there was a tennis court in my housing complex—just for the residents there and their guests—and that if he really wanted to play some tennis while he was stationed on Okinawa, I’d be happy to play with him there as my guest. We set a tennis match date for the next weekend. And I even said I’d drive down to his ship to fetch him for the match.
When we returned to the USO club on Kadena, Ron got out of the van and walked over to the bus stop.
“It’s late,” I said as I walked over to him after climbing down from the van. “And it’s dinner time. You could stand out here an hour or more waiting for a bus and not get back to Naha before they’ve closed down the mess hall.” . . .
Ron was quiet all the time we were driving back to Naha. It didn’t take long to drive to his ship, but it seemed uncharacteristic for him to be so silent. I decided he was tired from the day’s outing—as I was. But it was a good tired. I hadn’t felt this relaxed and happy with life since the last afternoon tryst I’d spent with Chad in Baghdad. . . .
I parked in the shadow of a stack of crates not far from the gangplank to his ship. And it was a good thing that I did, because when I came to a stop, he reached over and wrapped his hand around my neck, turned my face toward his, and gave me a deep kiss on the lips.
I froze and he turned and exited the car, shutting the door, and not looking back as he sauntered toward the end of the gangplank. . . .
I stewed for days and days, always resolving my consternation with the declaration that it would go no further. . . .
When Ron opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat beside me the next Saturday morning on the Naha pier, I turned my head and leaned my face into his, as he guided my lips to his with a hand behind my head. He pressed his tongue at my lips and I opened to him in a deep kiss. In addition to his racket, he’d brought a fairly hefty duffel bag, which he threw into the small space behind the seats of the Z4.
BLURB:
Justin Thorenson, leaves the U.S. consulate in Baghdad, Iraq’s, Green Zone at the end of his two-year tour badly needing a restful assignment, not least because he has lost the only lover he has ever had, a Marine guard named Chad, in a fire fight beyond the walls of the protected compound. Thorenson is given an ideal “rest” assignment at the consulate in Okinawa. His recovery to steady footing is almost immediately challenged, however, in the form of the fun-loving, young and virile, but immature and sexually insatiable sailor, Ron Rivelle, and his friends. Ron slowly takes over Justin’s life and mind and body to the point that Justin once more is looking for an escape.
EXCERPTS:
“So, we meet again, Mr. Kadena who isn’t in the Air Force,” he said to me as I boarded the van, which had just enough seats for those taking the tour—and the only seat empty when I boarded was the one next to his. We were both in shorts and T-shirts and the seats were made for Japanese, so all the time we were bouncing up the road to the isolated castle ruins, our thighs and shoulders and arms were rubbing against each other. I don’t know what that did for the young sailor, but it made my blood boil.
Ron was curious about Baghdad once we’d gotten to the “how we got here” chitchat while the bus was rolling along, and I told him what a life-focusing experience it had been and, probably—now that I think back on it—unwittingly revealed more of myself and of the conditions and pressures I lived under there than I really should have. I know that I must have mentioned Chad more than a couple of times—although I’m sure I didn’t reveal the depth of our relationship. And I also must have mentioned that Ron reminded me in some ways of Chad.
I thoroughly enjoyed the outing—and not least because Ron and I stuck together while we were exploring the castle and because I opened to his great sense of humor and his exuberance in enjoying what he was doing—and in including me in his adventurous, innocently open world.
We talked even more freely and openly on the way back to Kadena. He said he’d tried to sign up for the tennis ladder at the Kadena USO but that it was fully booked. I said that there was a tennis court in my housing complex—just for the residents there and their guests—and that if he really wanted to play some tennis while he was stationed on Okinawa, I’d be happy to play with him there as my guest. We set a tennis match date for the next weekend. And I even said I’d drive down to his ship to fetch him for the match.
When we returned to the USO club on Kadena, Ron got out of the van and walked over to the bus stop.
“It’s late,” I said as I walked over to him after climbing down from the van. “And it’s dinner time. You could stand out here an hour or more waiting for a bus and not get back to Naha before they’ve closed down the mess hall.” . . .
Ron was quiet all the time we were driving back to Naha. It didn’t take long to drive to his ship, but it seemed uncharacteristic for him to be so silent. I decided he was tired from the day’s outing—as I was. But it was a good tired. I hadn’t felt this relaxed and happy with life since the last afternoon tryst I’d spent with Chad in Baghdad. . . .
I parked in the shadow of a stack of crates not far from the gangplank to his ship. And it was a good thing that I did, because when I came to a stop, he reached over and wrapped his hand around my neck, turned my face toward his, and gave me a deep kiss on the lips.
I froze and he turned and exited the car, shutting the door, and not looking back as he sauntered toward the end of the gangplank. . . .
I stewed for days and days, always resolving my consternation with the declaration that it would go no further. . . .
When Ron opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat beside me the next Saturday morning on the Naha pier, I turned my head and leaned my face into his, as he guided my lips to his with a hand behind my head. He pressed his tongue at my lips and I opened to him in a deep kiss. In addition to his racket, he’d brought a fairly hefty duffel bag, which he threw into the small space behind the seats of the Z4.
Jake Marlow
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 29, 2001
- Posts
- 122
Fiona Makes Him a Man - New Jake Marlow Novella
Fiona, a pretty, emotionally open woman in her late 20s, is asked by her husband to spend time with his geeky, socially-awkward teenaged brother, who seems isolated. Once she understands how perceptive and sensitive he is, Fiona develops a genuine affection for Sam and decides she can do something to help him overcome his awkwardness. With the blessing of her husband, Fiona sets out to change Sam's life. Fiona Makes Him a Man is a fun, sexy, romantic tale about a young man's first crush and an older woman opening her horizons.
For purchase info and to read an excerpt, come to my website, Jake's Wonderland!
Fiona, a pretty, emotionally open woman in her late 20s, is asked by her husband to spend time with his geeky, socially-awkward teenaged brother, who seems isolated. Once she understands how perceptive and sensitive he is, Fiona develops a genuine affection for Sam and decides she can do something to help him overcome his awkwardness. With the blessing of her husband, Fiona sets out to change Sam's life. Fiona Makes Him a Man is a fun, sexy, romantic tale about a young man's first crush and an older woman opening her horizons.
For purchase info and to read an excerpt, come to my website, Jake's Wonderland!
amicus
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 28, 2003
- Posts
- 14,812
Read an Ebook week through March 06
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/therealamicus
All eleven titles at Smashwords are a FREE read for the next week. Use the Coupon Code RE100... leave a comment if you enjoy a title...thank you!
amicus
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/therealamicus
All eleven titles at Smashwords are a FREE read for the next week. Use the Coupon Code RE100... leave a comment if you enjoy a title...thank you!
amicus
