Nothing but trouble as Cory settles into her role in the hill! Book Review of Bound Volume 1 by Amy Lane
Wounded, Volume 1
Little Goddess
Paranormal Romance
DSP Publications; 2 edition
e book
Little Goddess: Book Three
Vol. 1
Humans have the option of separation, divorce, and heartbreak. For Corinne Carol-Anne Kirkpatrick, sorceress and queen of the vampires, the choices are limited to love or death. Now that she is back at Green’s Hill and assuming her duties as leader, her life is, at best, complicated. Bracken and Nicky are competing for her affections, Green is away taking care of his people, and a new supernatural enemy is threatening the sanctity of all she has come to love. Throw in a family reunion gone bad, a supernatural psychiatrist, and a killer physics class, and Cory’s life isn’t just complex, it’s psychotic.
Cory needs to get her act and her identity together, and soon, because the enemy she and her lovers are facing is a nightmare that doesn’t just kill people, it unmakes them. If she doesn’t figure out who she is and what her place is on Green’s Hill, it’s not just her life on the line. She knows from hard experience that the only thing worse than facing death is facing the death of someone she loves.
Loving people is easy—living with them is what takes the real work, and it’s even harder if you’re bound.
Nothing but trouble as Cory settles into her role in the hill! Book Review of Bound Volume 1 by Amy Lane
Bound, Volume 1
Little Goddess
Paranormal Romance
DSP Publications; 2 edition
e book
Little Goddess: Book Three
Vol. 1
Humans have the option of separation, divorce, and heartbreak. For Corinne Carol-Anne Kirkpatrick, sorceress and queen of the vampires, the choices are limited to love or death. Now that she is back at Green’s Hill and assuming her duties as leader, her life is, at best, complicated. Bracken and Nicky are competing for her affections, Green is away taking care of his people, and a new supernatural enemy is threatening the sanctity of all she has come to love. Throw in a family reunion gone bad, a supernatural psychiatrist, and a killer physics class, and Cory’s life isn’t just complex, it’s psychotic.
Cory needs to get her act and her identity together, and soon, because the enemy she and her lovers are facing is a nightmare that doesn’t just kill people, it unmakes them. If she doesn’t figure out who she is and what her place is on Green’s Hill, it’s not just her life on the line. She knows from hard experience that the only thing worse than facing death is facing the death of someone she loves.
Loving people is easy—living with them is what takes the real work, and it’s even harder if you’re bound.
Bound Volume 2 by Amy Lane Book Review– How Cory wins the day!
Bound, Volume 2
Little Goddess
Paranormal Romance
DSP Publications; 2 edition
e book
https://www.amazon.com/Bound-Vol-Little-Goddess-Book-ebook/dp/B018ZTKYUI/ref=pd_sim_351_3?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=7EZ5EG8V84CEHFZ6GWMK
2nd Edition
Little Goddess: Book Three
Vol. 2
Cory’s newly bound family is starting to find its footing, which is a good thing because danger after danger threatens, and Green can't be there nearly as often as he’s needed. As Cory learns to face the challenges of ruling the hill alone, she’s also juggling a ménage relationship with three lovers—with mixed results.
But with each new challenge, one lesson becomes crystal clear: she can’t be queen without each of the men who look to her, and the people she loves aren’t safe unless she takes on that queendom with all of the intelligence and courage in her formidable heart.
But sometimes even intelligence, courage, and steadily increasing magic aren’t enough to do the job, and suddenly the role of Cory’s lovers becomes more crucial than ever. Nobody is strong enough to succeed in every task, and Cory finds that the most painful lesson she and her lovers can learn is not just how to deal with failure. Cory needs to learn that one woman is only so powerful, and she needs to choose wisely who sits outside her circle of family, and who is bound eternally in her heart.
Shiloh Walker’s Pieces of Me
Book Review of Shiloh Walker’s Pieces of Me
I am a huge fan of Shiloh Walker. I have been for a very long time, so when I
heard about Pieces of Me I got excited.
I love all of Shiloh’s series and had read a good number of her other
works. The great thing about Shiloh’s
work is that even within the same genre each story is unique. Shiloh is able to really encapsulate the
feelings of her characters and this book did not disappoint. If you like romantic suspense novels, this is
definitely a great read. This book has
graphic sex and violence against women.
While the heroine does a great job being a survivor, it could be
upsetting to those who have experienced abuse.
You have the main
heroine, Shadow Grace-A woman who has been broken so completely she doesn’t
know how to survive. She struggles to
make a life for herself while recovering from a traumatic experience that makes
Russian prison camps look nice. Yet, as
broken as she may be, she clings to her art and has the talent to bring beauty
into an unforgiving world. Shadow isn’t fully
healed but every day she is getting stronger and she dares to reach by starting
to fantasize about a guy she sees on the beach regularly. Shadow barely dares to dream about a man, but
for some reason, this one-well he sticks in her brain. And he doesn’t come out easy, even when
fantasy starts to merge with reality and they meet.
The hero of our story seems perfect in so many ways. Strong, supportive and a little bit dark with
a body that doesn’t quit, Jenks seems like the perfect man. As they start to build something together, he
doesn’t fall apart when Shadow starts the revelation process, in fact he seems
to stick a little harder. But he has a
secret and once it is revealed-well things are not quite as simple as they
first seem.
Of course, the past comes back to haunt Shadow and not only
Jenks but some of the other friends she has made find themselves in
danger. While Shadow know just how sick
and depraved people can be, others doubt that it could have really been that
bad. When the past swallows all of them
whole, only a few will have the chance to survive. And after that—life will never be the same.
Shadow manages to rebuild herself and truly become strong,
facing not only her past but her present and deciding that she deserves more
than what Jenks can give. But when her
past still threatens her, she finds that safety can be found in a strong
partner and Shadow has to decide whether to stand on her own or chance being
hurt again.
July 25, 2017
Obsession can be deadly... Nobody knows that better than Shadow Harper. It seemed like a dream come true when a rich, suave older man noticed her during her second year of college. Stefan Stockman seemed to love her obsessively. He came into her life and swept her off her feet, seduced her, married her...and then slowly, eventually, that dream come true became a living nightmare. Now, three years after she finally escaped him, she's trying to put her life back together. Haunted by memories, struggling with post-traumatic stress, she spends most of her time locked away in her home on Pawley's Island, a small town on the South Carolina coast. Her rare moments of joy come from her trips to the nearby beach. She compulsively checks the locks on her doors, makes sure she has her cell phones--five of them--and if she misses something on her schedule, it throws her into a panic. When she accidentally leaves a sketchbook on the beach, an anxiety attack seems imminent. Her art has become her salvation, her sanity, and losing even one sketch is like losing a piece of her soul. When she returns to hunt for the sketchbook, already fearing it's gone for good, she's surprised to find it still sitting there, saved by a sexy fellow beach lover--the mysterious Dillian Jenkins. He's brash, bold, brutally handsome...and gentle. He's the exact opposite of the man who'd tormented her for years, and Shadow finds herself slowly, almost reluctantly, falling for him. Even obsessing over him. When her ex-husband once again intrudes on the happiness she's finally discovering, Shadow turns to Dillian. But will she find shelter there...or another betrayal?
Amy Lane Wounded
We are going to entertain you with a fiction,” He continued, “A faerie tale, a story, something dreamt of dozens of tens of years ago. Imagine my surprise when it turned into…” "A memory.” Cory stepped forward at his right and carried the narrative thread, just as they had rehearsed. “A memorial, a lament, a dirge, a paean…” "An exultation.” Bracken stepped forward carefully avoiding another touch with Cory, but at her other shoulder, “A cleansing, a triumph, a celebration.” "Yes.” Green took up his part now. “All of this and more, because this is a love song for our friend,” "Our lover,” said Cory and Andres. "Our brother,“ Said Bracken. "Our son,” Said Arturo and Grace. “Our leader,” Said Renny and the vampires as they stepped forward together in a group. “Our beloved,” they all intoned together, and the echoes of their true love for their lost dear one lingered in the room for more than a few heartbeats. “We’re singing for Adrian,” Cory said then, alone, clearly, the heartbreak throbbing in her voice and in her intense, thin face. Her shoulders were bare, and she bore his mark on her back, and it was all Green could do to keep his throat clear for singing. "We will always sing for Adrian,” Cory added bravely, “Even though we hadn’t known he’d missed, and struck the opening chords of an old, old melody that now lay forgotten except in the minds of the fey who had grown up in the old countries and woods of Northern England, Ireland, and Wales. Singing in parts and counterpoint, Green, Bracken and Cory poured their heart into a song he’d written long before he’d left his home, met Adrian, or dreamt of Cory. Corinna and Allen and Graeme, Over the hills they ran A bonny bright girl with a ribbon, O, two boys as thick as kin. They toddled under the lime tree, O, they toddled under the rose They toddled ‘till sun set, behind the Oak, they toddled from when the sun rose. Corinna why are you crying, O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. O We’re young; there is no time to waste. Corinna and Allen were lovers in fall, Over by yonder rose tree, Graeme came looking for his beloveds And wept at what he did see. Corinna why are you crying O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. Graeme ran like a man possessed He ran like he was followed by hell, He snapped his strong leg in painful two When into a gully he fell. So Graeme sat, with bounded leg When the militia came to town desert We aim to hunt them down. “ Corinna why are you crying O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. Allen came calling in darkest night And begged, "My brother, forgive me. I fed my love and broke your heart And we all can no longer be. But I run away to fight the day That our young men must wear red. I leave Corinna to your care, my friend. “ And with these words he fled. Corinna why are you crying O, Over a shirt stained red, Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will find lovers again. fight. No letter came, no friendly word Til field and moor turned green A spent young man came bearing a burden In which a bloody shirt could be seen. "Corinna, this is from Allen, know Your lover now lies dead. “ "Oh, Graeme, our friend, my life has ended I’ll never love again.” Summer passed and winter too, Corinna sat and wept. Graeme’s leg healed, but not his heart Until his promise then he kept. "Corinna, come stop your crying, O No. Not while the Spring is here. Corinna you must leave your weeping, O Please, beloved, please come. My arms are aching to hold you, know My heart can be your home. “ Corinna and Graeme were married, O As the summer died to fall. Their hearts still ache for Allen, though They love each other as all. And Rain will fall and trees will grow And you will have lovers again… Rain will fall and trees will grow And we will be lovers again. The end of the song was a repeat of the chorus, broken up and sung in passionate roundels. Cory’s voice soared over the chanted refrain of rain will fall, trees will grow, aching with the promise of hope and the heartbreak of loss as Green and Bracken called Corinna back to the land of the living. The fey in the harmony, intertwining, echoing, repeating the pain and the joy of love lost and found. The roundel built, and rose, and the emotion in the room crested, a giant wave of anguish, grief, and rebirth, and as their skin prickled with passion, their power—fed by anger and love and sex and emotion—burgeoned, grew, lifted, moved, heaved the pitch of the room to breathlessness, and everyone on stage raised their wounded wrists and released their bindings, and everyone off stage with a similar wound did the same, and Bracken finally, finally, answered the call of all that freely offered blood.
Author Scott Lynch responds to a critic of the character Zamira Drakasha, a black woman pirate in his fantasy book Red Seas Under Red Skies, the second novel of the Gentleman Bastard series.
The bolded sections represent quotes from the criticism he received. All the z-snaps are in order.
Your characters are unrealistic stereotpyes of political correctness. Is it really necessary for the sake of popular sensibilities to have in a fantasy what we have in the real world? I read fantasy to get away from politically correct cliches.
God, yes! If there’s one thing fantasy is just crawling with these days it’s widowed black middle-aged pirate moms.
Real sea pirates could not be controlled by women, they were vicous rapits and murderers and I am sorry to say it was a man’s world. It is unrealistic wish fulfilment for you and your readers to have so many female pirates, especially if you want to be politically correct about it!
First, I will pretend that your last sentence makes sense because it will save us all time. Second, now you’re pissing me off.
You know what? Yeah, Zamira Drakasha, middle-aged pirate mother of two, is a wish-fulfillment fantasy. I realized this as she was evolving on the page, and you know what? I fucking embrace it.
Why shouldn’t middle-aged mothers get a wish-fulfillment character, you sad little bigot? Everyone else does. H.L. Mencken once wrote that “Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.” I can’t think of anyone to whom that applies more than my own mom, and the mothers on my friends list, with the incredible demands on time and spirit they face in their efforts to raise their kids, preserve their families, and save their own identity/sanity into the bargain.
Shit yes, Zamira Drakasha, leaping across the gap between burning ships with twin sabers in hand to kick in some fucking heads and sail off into the sunset with her toddlers in her arms and a hold full of plundered goods, is a wish-fulfillment fantasy from hell. I offer her up on a silver platter with a fucking bow on top; I hope she amuses and delights. In my fictional world, opportunities for butt-kicking do not cease merely because one isn’t a beautiful teenager or a muscle-wrapped font of testosterone. In my fictional universe, the main characters are a fat ugly guy and a skinny forgettable guy, with a supporting cast that includes “SBF, 41, nonsmoker, 2 children, buccaneer of no fixed abode, seeks unescorted merchant for light boarding, heavy plunder.”
You don’t like it? Don’t buy my books. Get your own fictional universe. Your cabbage-water vision of worldbuilding bores me to tears.
As for the “man’s world” thing, religious sentiments and gender prejudices flow differently in this fictional world. Women are regarded as luckier, better sailors than men. It’s regarded as folly for a ship to put to sea without at least one female officer; there are several all-female naval military traditions dating back centuries, and Drakasha comes from one of them. As for claims to “realism,” your complaint is of a kind with those from bigoted hand-wringers who whine that women can’t possibly fly combat aircraft, command naval vessels, serve in infantry actions, work as firefighters, police officers, etc. despite the fact that they do all of those things– and are, for a certainty, doing them all somewhere at this very minute. Tell me that a fit fortyish woman with 25+ years of experience at sea and several decades of live bladefighting practice under her belt isn’t a threat when she runs across the deck toward you, and I’ll tell you something in return– you’re gonna die of stab wounds.
What you’re really complaining about isn’t the fact that my fiction violates some objective “reality,” but rather that it impinges upon your sad, dull little conception of how the world works. I’m not beholden to the confirmation of your prejudices; to be perfectly frank, the prospect of confining the female characters in my story to placid, helpless secondary places in the narrative is so goddamn boring that I would rather not write at all. I’m not writing history, I’m writing speculative fiction. Nobody’s going to force you to buy it. Conversely, you’re cracked if you think you can persuade me not to write about what amuses and excites me in deference to your vision, because your vision fucking sucks.
I do not expect to change your mind but i hope that you will at least consider that I and others will not be buying your work because of these issues. I have been reading science fiction and fantasy for years and i know that I speak for a great many people. I hope you might stop to think about the sales you will lose because you want to bring your political corectness and foul language into fantasy. if we wanted those things we could go to the movies. Think about this!
Thank you for your sentiments. I offer you in exchange this engraved invitation to go piss up a hill, suitable for framing.
Here follows is a non-comprehensive list of historical female pirates and sailors, women of color first:
- Ching Shih (1775-1844): controlled south China seas, had 80,000-man fleet at her disposal, outlawed rape, extorted retirement package from the Chinese government.
- Sayyida al-Hurra (1482-1562): Pirate queen of Morocco who bedeviled Portuguese and Spanish fleets after being kicked out of Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella in her youth.
- William Brown (1800s, birth name unknown): married Grenadan woman who disguised self as man after fight with her husband and became a sailor.
- Jacquotte Delahaye (1600s): half-Haitian woman who, according to some sources, took over an island and led a force of hundreds of pirates.
- Hingyuon (1800s): Filipina warrior/probable pirate who led armies in Cebu; relative of Humabon, “first truly wealthy person in Cebu”
- Lai Choi San (1900s): Chinese pirate who commanded 12 ships and was a model for the Dragon Lady archetype; thinly-sourced
- Mary Lacy (1740-1801): willful bisexual runaway who became first female shipwright; disguised self as man but claimed pension under own name
- Alfhild (400s): Viking princess who decided to become a pirate instead of getting married.
- Anne Dieu-le-Veut (1661-1710): French pirate who fought along Laurens de Graaf for many years.
- Anne Bonny and Mary Read (1700-1782, c.1690-1721): probably the two most famous female pirates of all time
- Granuaile aka Grace O’Malley (1530-1603): Irish pirate queen who led rebellions against England, personally negotiated with Elizabeth I, gave birth on a ship.
- Cecilia Vasa (1540-1627): Swedish princess who got into endless scandals, became a pirate briefly, was utter black sheep, hated the English.
- Mary Patten (1800s): Took control of ship when her husband suffered mutiny, learned medicine, navigated to port, all while pregnant
- Christina Anna Skytte (1643-1677): Swedish baroness and pirate, very ruthless
- Jeanne de Clisson (c.1300-1359): burnt down much of the Normandy coast and sank a ton of ships after her husband was killed.
- Charlotte Badger (1778-?): Australian convict/single mom who took over ship, sailed to New Zealand, settled with Maori tribe.
In conclusion: read a goddamn book, critic person.
You know, the trolls on the internet are not good people. Nor are they sane!
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