Xcor slowly shook his head. “I don’t see your clothes, I never do, and a fancy dress wouldn’t change that. I don’t see wet hair, I feel the strands between my fingers. I don’t see pale cheeks, I am tasting your lips in my mind. You offer me all my senses at once, my female. You are so much more than any one thing about you.”
The Chosen JR Ward
Oh, Viscious! V, my man, I love you but…You have survived so much but don’t go backwards! You have Doc Jane and you have a chance with Xcor to be so much more…There was growth in helping Xcor and Layla. Yes Xcor lived the same life in the Bloodletter’s camp although the Bloodletter told Xcor he was his father…In some ways, Xcor was treated as the son V actually was…
Don’t let your past fuck your future. Don’t cheat on Jane with someone anonymous…haven’t you learned anything at all? Oh you are killing me!!!!
[Top]Wrath did the duty at the security camera, finding the lens with his hand and then putting his face in its camera. “You’re a lucky motherfucker, for sure.” Fritz opened things wide, and the light from the glorious foyer was enough to leave V blinking as his retinas adjusted. “My Lord!” the doggen exclaimed. “Sire! Oh, it is good that you have arrived home before the storm! May I get you a libation?” Fritz’s smile was like that of a basset hound’s, all wrinkles and enthusiasm, and the butler had a dog’s lack of time conception, his joy as if the pair of them had been gone for five years, not an hour. “How ’bout a couple of bulletproof vests,” V said under his breath. “But of course! Would you care for the Point Blank Alpha Elites, or is this more of a bomb-detonation occasion requiring the Paraclete tactical vests?” As if the choice were nothing more than having to pick white tie and tails over your standard-issue tuxedo. You had to love the guy, V thought grudgingly. “It was a joke, my man.” Vishous put a hand-rolled between his lips and talked around it as he got out his lighter. “At least I hope it was.” “Anything for you both! Oh, and my Lord, I took the liberty of allowing George I warmed it up and served it with fresh whole carrots, pumpkin mash, and green beans. Everything was organic, of course.” “You love that dog, don’t you.” The doggen bowed so low it was a wonder his bushy gray eyebrows didn’t Swiffer the mosaic floor. “I do. Oh, I do.” “Good male, you’re a good male.” Wrath seemed like he wanted to clap the butler on the shoulder, or maybe offer his palm for a high five, but he didn’t follow through. Even though he was King, there were some things you didn’t do, and that was make contact with an old-school servant like Fritz. The poor guy was liable to mushroom cloud out of embarrassment. Instead, Wrath strode forward like he owned the place, and V fell in line.
“I think I’m going to be—” Fritz, the doggen butler, presented him with a barf bag at exactly the right moment. A barf bag. A hospital-grade, bright-green barf bag. As Trez bent double and held the circular opening to his mouth, he thought a couple of things: 1) who the fuck went around with barf bags on the ready; 2) what the hell else was the male carrying in that penguin suit of his; and 3) why did it have to be bilious green? If you were going to make something for people to throw up in, why did you have to make the damn thing the color of pea soup? A cheery yellow, perhaps. A nice, tidy white. Although considering the shape his pants were in … When Trez finally straightened, that telltale anvil-sitting-on-one-half-of-his-head had started to kick in, and his thought patterns had begun to take on the convoluted weirdness that came along with his migraines. “Help me upstairs?” he mumbled to no one in particular.
The Chosen, JR Ward
And Fritz comes in with the win…Gotta love a butler who knows his charges needs so well it’s like totally magic…BTW the only place that has real life Fritz’s is maybe at the royal homes in Britain-but I wouldn’t swear by that because Fritz is in a class all his own!
Or maybe the squires in the Dark Hunter Series by Sherrilyn Kenyon
When I first encountered the literary classic Lolita, I was the same age as the infamous female character. I was 15 and had heard about a book in which a grown man carries on a sexual relationship with a much younger girl. Naturally, I quickly sought out the book and devoured the entire contents on my bedroom floor, parsing through Humbert Humbert‘s French and his erotic fascination for his stepdaughter, the light of his life, the fire of his loins — Dolores Haze. I remember being in the ninth grade and turning over the cover that presented a coy pair of saddle shoes as I hurried through the final pages in homeroom.
Although I remember admiring the book for all its literary prowess, what I don’t recall is how much of the truth of that story resonated with me given that I was a kid myself. Because it wasn’t until I reread the book as an adult that I realized Lolita had been raped. She had been raped repeatedly, from the time she was 12 to when she was 15 years old.
As a young woman now, it’s startling to see how that fundamental crux of the novel has been obscured in contemporary culture with even the suggestion of what it means to be “a Lolita” these days. Tossed about now, a “Lolita” archetype has come to suggest a sexually precocious, flirtatious underage girl who invites the attention of older men despite her young age. A Lolita now implies a young girl who is sexy, despite her pigtails and lollipops, and who teases men even though she is supposed to be off-limits.
In describing his now banned perfume ad, Marc Jacobs was very frank about the intentions of his sexy child ad and why he chose young Dakota Fanning to be featured in it. The designer described the actress as a “contemporary Lolita,” adding that she was “seductive, yet sweet.” Propping her up in a child’s dress that was spread about her thighs, and with a flower bottle placed right between her legs, the styling was sufficient to make the 17-year-old look even younger. The text below read “Oh Lola!,” cementing the Lolita reference completely. The teenager looks about 12 years old in the sexualizing advertisement, which is the same age Lolita is when the book begins.
And yet Marc Jacobs’ interpretation of Lolita as “seductive” is completely false, as are all other usages of Lolita to imply a “seductive, yet sweet” little girl who desires sex with older men.
Lolita is narrated by a self-admitted pedophile whose penchant for extremely young girls dates all the way back to his youth. Twelve-year-old Dolores Haze was not the first of Humbert Humbert’s victims; she was just the last. His recounting of events is unreliable given that he is serially attracted to girl children or “nymphets” as he affectionately calls them. And his endless rationalizing of his”love” for Lolita, their “affair,” their “romance” glosses over his consistent sexual attacks on her beginning in the notorious hotel room shortly after her mother dies.
This man who marries Lolita’s mother, in a sole effort to get access to the child, fantasizes about drugging her in the hopes of raping her — a hypothetical scenario which eventually does come to fruition. Later on as he realizes that Lolita is aging out of his preferred age bracket, he entertains the thought of impregnating her with a daughter so that he can in turn rape that child when Lolita gets too old
Lolita does make repeated attempts to get away from her rapist and stepfather by trying to alert others as to how she is being abused. According to Humbert, she invites the company of anyone which annoys him given that the pervert doesn’t want to be discovered. And yet, he manipulates her from truly notifying the authorities by telling her that without him — her only living relative — she’ll become a ward of the state. By spoiling her with dresses and comic books and soda pop, he reminds her that going into the system will deny her such luxuries and so she is better off being raped by him whenever he pleases than living without new presents.
Given that Humbert is a pedophile, his first-person account is far from trustworthy when deciphering what actually happened to Lolita. But, Vladimir Nabokov does give us some clues despite our unreliable narrator. For their entire first year together on the road as they wade from town to town, Humbert recalls her bouts of crying and “moodiness” — perfectly understandable emotions considering that she is being raped day and night. A woman in town even inquires to Humbert what cat has been scratching him given the the marks on his arms — vigilant attempts by Lolita to get away from her attacker and guardian. He controls every aspect of her young life, consumed with the thought that she will leave him with the aid of too much allowance money or perhaps a boyfriend. He interrogates her constantly about her friends and eventually ransacks her bedroom revoking all her money. Lolita is often taunted with things she desires in exchange for sexual favors as Nabokov writes in one scene:
“How sweet it was to bring that coffee to her, and then deny it until she had done her morning duty.”
Lolita eventually does get away from her abusive stepfather by age 15, but the fact that she has been immortalized as this illicit literary vixen is not only deeply troublesome, it’s also a completely inaccurate reading of the book. And Marc Jacobs is not alone in his highly problematic misinterpretation of child rape and abuse as “sexy.” Some publications and publishing houses actually recognize the years of abuse as love.
On the 50th anniversary edition of Lolita, which I purchased for the sake of writing this piece, there sits on the back cover a quote from Vanity Fair which reads:
“The only convincing love story of our century.”
The edition, which was published by Vintage International, recounts the story as “Vladimir Nabokov’s most famous and controversial novel” but also as having something to say about love. The back cover concludes in its summary:
“Most of all, it is a meditation on love — love as outrage and hallucinations, madness and transformation.”
“Love” holds no space in this novel, which details the repeated sexual violation of a child. Although Humbert desperately tries to convince the reader that he is in love with his stepdaughter, the scratches on his arms imply something else entirely. Because the lecherous Humbert has couched his pedophilia in romantic language, the young girl he repeatedly violated seems to have passed through into pop culture as a tween temptress rather than a rape victim.
Conflating love or sexiness with the rape of literature’s most misunderstood child is dangerous in that it perpetuates the mythology that young girls are some how participating in their own violation. That they are instigating these attacks by encouraging and inciting the lust of men with their flirty demeanor and child-like innocence.
Let it be known that even Lolita, pop culture’s first “sexy little girl” was not looking to seduce her stepfather. Lolita, like a lot of young girls, was raped.
Source: http://www.mommyish.com/2011/11/16/lolita-novel-sex-rape-pedophilia-541/2/#ixzz3N4PFEyex
I was going through this at age 11 when i got my hands on the book, and i never read it as sexual. I cried and related to her on such a deep level. Anyone who thinks lolita is a love story is gross.
Too real. Lolita means so much to me, because I was raped by an older adult man when I was 15 and years later when I came forward about it people said it was my fault because I flirted with him. A friend of his even teased me with the comment “weren’t you his little Lolita?” Lolita. Is Not. A love story. The continuous sexual abuse of a teenage girl is not love.
What chaps my ass is that NABOKOV didn’t see it as a love story. He found Humbert repugnant and went out of his way to make him so.
He hated that people saw it as romantic when he’d meant to write a fucking horror novel.
I hate when people call themselves Lolita or that fucking Lana del Rey song.This book is about a little girl being raped constantly and they make it seem like a seduction or tease.Please people read this article or read what the book really is this story makes my gut churn.I was being molested as a kid and had mental games played on me.Please Please Please to save another persons life stop romanticizing this story let people know this isn’t no old century love this is rape
Rape is never ok. Nor is a relationship between an adult and a child. I read a lot but it is imperative that this be a truth of our age. Too many people refuse to stand up to protect that truth. Many of my favorite heroines were abused as children.
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Random partial shelfie because I’m in love with that new Narnia set from Juniper Books 😍
All my favorites
[Top]How to Make Lifelong Readers Out of Your Friends and Neighbors
1. Make a list of everyone in your neighborhood/city/college/elsewhere with a copy of any book in the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy.
2. Visit each person in turn and give them precisely one (1) copy of Kushiel’s Dart, by Jacqueline Carey.
3. ???
4. Love literature…as thou wilt!
Expensive, but most probably worth it.
Just gotta say I really dislike the fact the 50 shades is supposed to represent all edgy romance. It doesn’t even begin to touch the really GREAT books in the world–books that make you question everything and become a warm flame to warm you on the darkest night….Hey I made a Jacqueline Carey reference without meaning to…
I actually have a friend who does this with Laurell K Hamilton books whenever she sees them somewhere cheap. She buys 30 or 40 copies at 1 or 2 dollars a piece and randomly gives them out to people. She says it makes up for the fact she refuses to lend out any of her Laurell K Hamilton books…positive book karma
[Top]Day 01 – Best book you read last year
[Top]After much deliberation (lying on my bed staring at the ceiling for 10 minutes) I have chosen the Phedre Trilogy from Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel’s Legacy. Yes, I know that it’s three books but if you read them all one after the other, like I did, then they count as one. Logic.
Carey has created a world in these books that seems so real and rich in back story that you’re sure there should be history books out there about the land of Terre D’Ange. The characters that she created are equally rich in personal history and beautifully crafted in such a way that you can care for even the most hateful villian.
The trilogy follows Phedre from an unwanted orphan to the savior of her home lands that are poised on the edge of war. All along the way friendships are made and broken, relationships are kindled and put out, enemies are created and cut down.
The characters in these books quickly became some of my all time favourites, not only for their strengths but for their multitudes of weaknesses as well. (I may be 100% in love with Josceline Verreuil)
Disclaimer: These aren’t bed time stories to read to your kids. The whole axis that this epic tale revolves around is the fact that Phedre is marked by the angel Kushiel meaning that she finds pleasure in pain. Get where this is going? 50 Shades ain’t got nothing on these books. But know that Carey uses this element in her stories as a means to an end, a tool for Phedre to use to her advantage, not as the central focus.
Kushiel’s Mercy (Imriel’s Trilogy)
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If there is one series of book that I would recommend anyone, it just has to be Kushiel’s Legacy by Jacqueline Carey. I literally wept at the end. I am not lying, 3am in the morning, tears rolled down my eyes, as I told myself to stop and get a grip of myself, but I couldn’t, Carey has woven yet another tale, overflowing with so much fierce passion, love and emotion, and I crumbled under her language, how she spins words, the power of language. You won’t really understand how incredible these books are until of have read them. Jacqueline Carey, again, if I saw you wondering the streets of London, I would sit, abeyant to you, worship the ground you stood on, and call you my Queen of Terre d’Ange.
In this final part of Imriel’s trilogy, we embark on a more tragic, important and vital journey ever. Filled with tragedy, war, fierce love and passion and a terrible sorcerer that has cast a spell so powerful that binds everyone in the city of Terre d’Ange to forget about Imriel and his love to Sidonie, and that they are allies with the sorcerer. But of course, everyone outside of the city not touched by the spell know this is truth, although the the exact extend to why. Everyone is plunged into madness, and Terre d’Ange are on the brink of civil war. But Imriel is the only one who remember his love to Sidonie, and knows what has befallen, and seeks help from enemies.
I don’t want to give too much away. Because it is so intense. Literally, these books beat every other book for me, because they are so well written, so powerful and passionate, and I could read them over and over again and become so surprised. I now need to by the next trilogy, which I actually can’t wait for! Seriously, I recommend these to everyone, because they are just amazing. Go go go, my friends, may you find greatness in Kushiel’s Legacy, and may you follow Blessed Elua concept: Love as thou wilt.
Jacqueline Carey / Kushiel’s Dart
[Top]“You despise your patrons a little, and love them too, yes?”
“Yes, my lady.” I sat down in the chair held for me and accepted a glass of joie, eyeing her warily. “A little.”
“And how many of them do you fear?”
I held my glass without sipping, as she did, and answered honestly. “One, at least, not at all. Most of them, sometimes. You, my lady, always.”
The blue of her eyes was like the sky at twilight when the first stars appear. “Good.” Her smile held promises I shuddered to think on. “Be at ease in it, Phedre. This is the Longest Night, and I am in no hurry. You’re not like the others, who are trained to it from birth, like hounds cringing under the whip for a kind touch from their master’s hand. No, you embrace the lash, but even so, there is aught in you that rebels at it. Let others plumb the depths of the former; ‘tis the latter that interests me.”
At that, I did shudder. “I am at my lady’s command.”
“Command.” Melisande held her glass to the light, inspecting the sparkling cordial. “Command is for captains and generals. I have no interest in command. If you would obey, you will discern what pleases me, and do it unasked.” She lifted her glass to me, smiling. “Joy.”
There are going to be a few quotes from these two chapters.
And I must note, the last paragraph is so on point in a way that is all too commonly missed. I don’t know if I’ve ever identified with a fictional character quite so much.