Tag: man

Hunt the Moon Chapter 26 & 27

windsurfingthroughhell:

slightlybitchyclairvoyant:

I’m doing my review for both chapters (a) because I’m lazy and behind on my posts and (b) because I usually read these two chapters together anyway and I have trouble separating them in my mind.

Chapter 26 is is kind of a strange chapter, because you have such a contrast between what is happening and why it is happening.  Cassie and Pritkin have sex, and it’s very intimate, but the reason for it is because it’s the only way to save Pritkin’s life.  The contrast heightens the tension exponentially.  The whole chapter feels on edge – will this actually save Pritkin?  Will he go too far and kill Cassie by accident?  Will Caleb interfere?

And to make an already awful situation even more difficult, Rosier shows up and puts a compulsion on Cassie.  It’s kind of squicky, and he doesn’t help anything by saying “Let Daddy help”, but I appreciate that he wants to save his son.  It gets the job done, and that’s honestly the focus of both Cassie and Rosier at this point.

Okay, I admit – I am shipper trash enough to squee over Cassie and Pritkin having a sexual encounter.   But Chapter 27 moves us from the hot-but-dangerous sex to the emotional fallout.  And, oh man.  There is some serious fallout.

This is the chapter of emotional intimacy, and KC does not pull her punches.  I’m talking, of course, about the one and only shower hug scene.

*deep breath*

I don’t think there has been another scene with the emotional weight of this one.  KC has written dozens of other scenes that make me feel all the feelings, but this is the one that catches my attention before any of the others.  

Cassie and Pritkin are kind of literally and emotionally naked with each other, and KC shows us this with almost no dialogue.  In a few short paragraphs, we clearly see how much they care about each other and depend on each other, and not just in the saving-each-other way.  The depth of their trust in each other is so obvious here.  Both of them tend to repress a lot, but they don’t tend to hide from each other.  It’s a gorgeous scene, and one that I love to reread often.

Also, if you haven’t seen it, @pritkinsprettydick drew the shower hug and it’s perfect :D.

The whole thing about Caleb being there has always been vaguely squicky to me but a lot of Casskin sex scenes do have this discomforting edge to them? This dubcon element that’s not really either character’s fault, but which makes me uneasy when reading them, no matter how sexy the scene might be – it’s so tragic really, that they never get to be with each other just for the sake of being with each other. Well, so far. 

A side note though – Pritkin is aware that Cassie isn’t in a position to give informed consent and he tries really hard to avoid doing anything that might feel like a violation to her later (it doesn’t but I think Cassie is more okay with having her body used by other people than I would be). I’m not sure whether he could safely have waited for the influence to wear off, but the key thing for me is that he apologises later. Cassie may not feel that he did anything wrong, and he was forced into a situation where he had to make that choice, but I think, and I suspect Pritkin also thinks, that it’s still a choice he didn’t have the right to make. Idk, I just have weird and particular ideas about consent and autonomy. I don’t like people making choices for Cassie, especially as regards her body, but this particular instance of it bothers me less than say, that Mircass scene in TtD, because Pritkin didn’t compromise her ability to consent, Rosier did, and he also apologised for it later – he acknowledged that it wasn’t a good situation, even if it wasn’t his fault. (of course Pritkin isn’t always perfect when it comes to consent – his 18th century self had some Issues in that regard that I wanted to talk about in EtN but then I missed those chapters, so I’ll probably bring it up in RtW when it becomes relevant). 

I also appreciate that they get to have some serious fall out from this uncomfortable (albeit sexy) scene? They get to talk about their feelings, reaffirm an emotional connection, and they comfort each other. It’s wonderful. 

Anyway, I 100% agree about The Shower Hug. It’s emotional destruction on an epic scale. And you know what? I never picked up on the symbolism of them being naked (or mostly naked, in Cassie’s case). Pritkin’s at his most vulnerable physically and emotionally. Damn it! 

OK, So standard disclaimers apply…and you all know all of them 🙂 So, yes this is a really uncomfortable scene. You have got Pritkin unconscious and dying, war mages wanting to try magic and Cassie losing her everloving shit. For the first time ever the war mages actually listen to Cassie and let Caleb drive a dying Pritkin and wounded Cassie away. Rossier being there to help out yeah it’s squicky but given the state Pritkin is in and the state Cassie is in I’m glad Rossier stepped in. Yes it adds complications because Cassie’s consent is iffy, but in my opinion Cassie give’s consent when she starts the whole ball of wax arolling, so later consent is not really needed. She wanted to save Pritkin and by g-d she was saving his ass come hell or high water! Caleb’s freak out is annoying as hell but we need Caleb to know about Pritkin later so it works for me.
I’m a little disappointed in Pritkin here. (cue screaming from others on Tumblr) Once he is healed enough to actually take control of the sex he is still not willing to let Cassie in at all. Cassie trusts him to not kill her but he doesn’t and he doesn’t want to get any more vulnerable to Cassie and so he limits it to oral sex and her orgasm.
I love the fact that Karen Chance doesn’t allow Pritkin to withdraw and distance. I love the fact that after the life and death sex or die Cassie is able to be Pritkins’s emotional support in the shower. That’s more important than the sex in some ways. cassie is not letting Pritkin distance himself from her and withdraw or take the fault for this…Cassie is not going to let him make this a reason to withdraw further or add it to his noble reasons to withdraw from the field. I think this whole thing shows Cassie growing into her power. making the war mages do what she wants, making Caleb listen, bossing Rossier and Pritkin around and still declaring her independence from Mircea (don’t forget that all of this started with the rebellion and pizza)…as an aside to that given that Pritkin just told Cassie in their comical conversation over pizza there will be no more sexual healing slip ups leads to the most sexual of their healing slip ups…can anyone say irony?
I am tired and my brain is stalling so this will be my two cents for a while…Please feel free to argue with me, as all of our perspectives make the reread all the more fun

Sherrilyn Kenyon quote

“Every man, woman, and child is capable of extreme and utter prejudice and cruelty when they feel justified in their hatred. Right or wrong. We are all capable of lashing out when in pain. No one, not even you or I, is immune from that. As Plato said, be kind to everyone”  Sherrilyn Kenyon

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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.

Pieces of Me
Shiloh Walker
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?

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CtD, ch27-28

windsurfingthroughhell:

The final countdown (spoilers):

– chapter 27 – As a general rule, I don’t like the ‘he couldn’t help himself’ trope when it comes to sex, but I think Pritkin losing control like that is understandable. I mean how long has it been since he’s fed that much? We’ve seen in some of the Pritkin shorts how the yearning to feed is still tormenting him very frequently, so while it’s freaky, I get why he was overwhelmed for a moment. The important part for me though, is that he did stop, before Cassie even had to tell him – it’s no wonder she trusts him not to hurt her in HtM. I love how this really intense sequence between Cassie and Pritkin is then balanced by the lighter scene where Dee and Cassie talk Pritkin into disguising himself in drag to escape. IMO one of KC’s greatest talents is the way she blends genres – in the space of two chapters we get drama, romance, comedy and action, it just never gets boring. Although how could we possibly get bored when we have Pritkin RUNNING UP FIVE FLIGHTS OF STAIRS WHILE CARRYING CASSIE. Once again, weirdly hot. Does this qualify as fan service?

– chapter 28 – Sal, oh Sal 🙁 I really liked her you know? Not just because she was introduced as something of a bimbo and then turned out to have hidden depths (love seeing that trope subverted) but also because poor Cassie, she doesn’t get that many female friends. I mean, that’s definitely being remedied, with the introduction of her court and Rhea and Tammy being more involved, but in the beginning at any rate, Cassie’s girl time was pretty limited. That’s why for me, Sal’s betrayal and death is a particularly hard blow. At least Cassie still has Françoise, whom I love.

I think it’s appropriate that Apollo’s ultimate end is fairly ignominious. As Cassie says later, they did the metaphysical equivalent of flushing him down a toilet, and they did it pretty quickly. But this is something that happens a lot in the Cassie books – you’ve got a grand standing, melodramatic villain and in the end, they’re beaten in some almost anti-climactic way, by someone who seems way weak than them (see also – Olga killing Dracula). It’s the classic David and Goliath, Frodo and Sauron story. In these books, power is no guarantee of victory.

Last thing: the Mircass conversation right at the end. So, I’ve made it pretty clear that I do not like the way Mircea and Cassie interact in this book, but this scene isn’t too bad. I like seeing Cassie laying down some ground rules, trying to tackle the communication problems at the heart of their relationship. On the other hand, if you read closely, Mircea doesn’t actually agree to anything. He asks Cassie if she wants him to ‘court’ her, but doesn’t say that he will. He asks her if she can get to know him in their current kind of relationship and she says, tellingly, “Not and keep a clear head.” Whether deliberate or not, the constant sexy times between the two of them does seem to be preventing Cassie from getting to know him. But he still doesn’t actually agree?? I mean, I know he’s a vampire and it’s not in his nature to be direct but for crying out loud, would it kill him to say, ‘yes, we’ll slow down, if it makes you more comfortable’? If he really cares for her, why can’t he just give her that, it’s not that big a request. When Cassie does imply that she finds their relationship too sexual for the time being, he deflects, and suggests that Cassie’s insecurities about their relationship are somehow Pritkin’s fault. Uh, wtf? You know what, I take it back. I do have a problem with this scene. Anyway. I love the ending – “You shaved my legs?” Iconic.

Ok, so here we go again.  All bad comments are my own.  Please know that I am not trying to tear anyone’s opinion apart.  I am just trying to keep a dialog going…

AS for Pritkin-here is my take.  At the start of the series he is a complete and total jackass.  I don’t know whether this is just his mad at the world vibe, or if his death wish hadn’t calmed down.  It’s pretty clear to me that he’s had a rough time of it.  I think that’s why so many people are so adamant in their love of Pritkin.  He’s just so damaged, and sigh worthy.  and his relationship with Cassie is something that pushes his boundaries and makes him look at his own growing feelings, but that is another day.  This is one of the first times he tries to sacrifice his life in service to Cassie.  Sometimes, I think that is Pritkin’s go to response.  Feel attracted to Cassie? Find a way to get her to leave him behind.  Find yourself taking cold showers after practicing swordwork?  Make a trip to Fairie and get nearly gutted…but I digress.  Here he tricks her, saying he can heal himself to get her to reswap bodies.  And then uses the mistaken belief from the mages to his advantage in the duel with Saunders.

I love the triple D’s.  From their first introduction, I adore them.  And boy do they come through!  And I love the fact that THOSE shoes are fitting, if they have to break her toes!

Sal, oh man.  Sal.  Just when we think Cassie is finding her feet, the rug is pulled out from under her.  Shouldn’t there be a limit to heartbreak?  Only so much before the bank is full…

I think that Cassie does excellent with dealing with the men of her life.  She may be married to Mircea, but damn it they are going to date!  She may need John all the time, because she know very little magic, but damned if shes going to let him control all of her life.  She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and despite the fact that they are several hundred years older.  Of course, Mircea’s going to have the upper hand in any discussion.  Despite that, I think she gives Mircea a challenge.  And here is this 20 something ball of fire who treats Mircea as a man when he is so very used to being the authority figure…

That’s it for now…gotta sleep

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Dr Suess version of classical literature

 

thoodleoo:

what if every ancient text was translated in the style of dr. seuss

for example:

“I will not fight the Trojans!” Achilles then said.

“I will not fight them now or when you all are dead!

I won’t fight them at Troy. I won’t fight them at Greece.

I won’t fight them at war. I won’t fight them in peace.

I will not fight them while Agamemnon is king.

Do not try to bribe me- I won’t take your things.

I will not fight the Trojans, not here and not there.

I will not fight the Trojans- not anywhere.”

“You’re abusing our patience!” old Cicero said,

“And if there’s sense in the Senate they’ll soon have you dead!

Are you not alarmed by the people’s alarm?

Don’t you know that your plans will be doing us harm?

What is it you’re doing that I do not know?

Oh the times! Oh the morals! You really must go!

Since wise men must do what is best for the state,

we, the consuls, should kill you before it’s too late.”

Let me sing about arms, let me sing of the man,

Let me sing of Aeneas’s Rome-founding plan!

How he sailed off to Italy, fleeing from Troy,

Escaping the Greeks with his dad and his boy:

He was driven by fate, he was punished by Juno,

He suffered in war—and that’s just the part you know.

@hecubas

Oh my God I love this

too much time? Or just enough?

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thehumon:

Okay, I think I’m finally done with this.

Don’t use this as your main source of information on Norse mythology. Some things are only based on speculation and theories, not hard proof from any texts.
Also, Jotuns are gods of chaos (Not necessarily "destroy everything" chaos, but rather “not categorized and put in order” chaos) so their gender and sex is a bit muddy. The first Jotun Ymer had both male and female genitalia and mated with himself, and that set the tone for all Jotuns to come.

We don’t know for sure who Heimdall’s mothers are. We’re told he has nine, so people just assume it’s Ægir’s nine daughters. We don’t know for sure if Ran is mother to the daughters either, because only Ægir is mention as their parent.

A god named Lothur helped make the first humans, but because he doesn’t appear anywhere else, people speculate Lothur is another name for Loki. Høner is said to be Loki’s good friend, which strengthens the Odin, Høner, Loki connection.

In one text Odin is the father of Tyr, but in another Hymer is his father. Depending on what people prefer they might claim either Frigg or Hrodr is his mother, but neither is mentioned as his parents, just wives. That’s why I just put both Odin and Hymer as Tyr’s parents. Male Jotuns could give birth, so there’s nothing standing in the way of this.

People speculate that Skadi may originally have been a male deity because a man with the same name who is also associated with winter, snow and hunting appears in one of the Eddas. This could mean she’s the original father of Ull whom she shares a lot of traits with.

When Skadi and Njord’s marriage doesn’t work out, she runs off with someone else, but people can’t agree on who. Most people say Od, though.

I love these charts so much!!!

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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.

Amy Lane, Wounded
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Experiencing a dilemma

cookie0021:

I’ve never faced before. Frankly I’m tired of love triangles. Mostly because there’s an obvious choice of who the main character’s gonna choose; mostly the reason there’s even a hint of competition is because the girl doesn’t want to hurt the non-chosen guy:

Jace or Simon—duh, Jace wins

Edward or Jacob–duh, Edward wins

Dimitri or Adrian–duh, Dimitri wins

Adam or Samuel–duh, Adam wins

Peeta or Gale–duh, Peeta wins

Barrons or V’laine–duh, Barrons wins

Bones or Tate–duh, Bones wins

Vlad or Maximus–duh, Vlad wins

And countless other I can’t even remember right now. Granted The Infernal Devices took a novel approach and has the main character get to be with both the men she loved (even though it was obvious she really really loved Will–and if forced to choose I think she would have chosen him in the end, but she got both)

My problem is: the Cassandra Palmer series.

One the one hand there’s Mircea who I admitted wasn’t in love with to begin with, but now…after everything I’ve read (including the Dorina Basarab series) I like him. I want him to be happy. I want him to be Cassie because he wants to be with her and she wants to be with him. I like him. Although I’m not too happy about where we were left with him in Tempt the Stars. I hope he’s not going to just abandon her. That doesn’t seem like the kind of man he is.

On the other hand, there’s Pritkin who I’ve kinda adored since book two, Claimed by Shadows. And my adoration for him has only gotten worse as the series has progressed. I absolutely love him. And I do think he’s gonna be the endgame. But I’m not sure.

And I’m torn.

Therein lies the problem.

I’ve never liked both of the guys for a single girl in a series. I may like a guy like say for instance Simon, but I never liked him for Clary. For Izzy, he’ll yeah, but never for Clary.

I want both Mircea and Pritkin for Cassie and I don’t know what to think.

Aaaggghh.

SO, I keep rereading this post.  And I get the overall point, even those of us that “like” both the men in Cassie’s life equally have favorites.  Sometimes, those favorites change from scene to scene but we have favorites.  So, who do we root for?   How do we want it to end…Well, I’m just gonna root for Cassie and however messily it ends up, as long as she’s happy I’ll be good…

But for the list at the beginning, I gotta say something.  I am very happy for this writer that all choices seem crystal clear.  For the rest of us, sometimes we don’t know who we are going to pick until after it has happened.    Or, if you are me, it sometimes was one person on one read but the next time its someone else…

So, maybe, its mutable.  Maybe, for some like Cat and Bones I didn’t even remember there was someone else.  But for each one of those, I have  an Anita Blake, or a Merry or a Corinne Carol-Anne Kirkpatrick.   And there are messy crazy solutions.  

And I don’t see Cassie going the way of the many loved.  At least I don’t think so.  But I’ll just keep reminding myself that I’m rooting for Cassie…and being mutable

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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.

rejectedprincesses:

fuckyeahscifiwomenofcolour:

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:

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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“Fertile females are like gold in Faerie, Dory—rarer even. And the fey can smell them coming. It’s like…bees to honey. You haven’t seen it—I have.” “Well, so what? They’re all adults. If they want to—” “ Fertile females.” “Oh. Oh ,” I said, finally getting it. “ Is that what you’re—” “Yes! I know what it’s like to be caught between worlds. I wouldn’t wish that on…well, certainly not a bunch of helpless children!” “But even if…I mean, the fey are notoriously infertile, right?” “With their own women, yes. These are not their own women! ” “Okay, Claire, okay. Calm down,” I told her, feeling a little strange because that was her line. “You’re their commander’s I’ve kept them so closely confined? Why Heidar has? They’ll just sneak out tonight when I’m asleep. It’s like babysitting twelve randy teenagers, and I can’t watch them all the—” “So why not get ’em some condoms?” Ray piped up. Claire stopped. And then turned to look at him. “I…don’t think they know what those are,” she said doubtfully. “They don’t have them in Faerie. The birth rate is low enough as it is; there’s no reason to develop something to lower it even further.” “Well, it ain’t rocket science,” he pointed out. “They could learn, right?” Claire was nodding, obviously liking this new idea. “Yes. Yes, they can.” She looked at me. “How many condoms do you have?” “What?” “Condoms, condoms! You must have some!”“Why must I?” I didn’t think sex once a decade warranted it. And anyway, the only guy I was into at the moment wasn’t the type to need them. Not that we would have anyway, considering that I’d spent much of the last two weeks recuperating. And that probably wasn’t going to change, since it would only make it harder when— “Dory!” “I’m fresh out,” I told her. “Well, go to the store,” Claire said, grabbing her purse and shoving it at me. “I—I’ll take the food out. They’ll have to eat first. And by the time they’re finished, you’ll be back.” “With the condoms.” “Right.” “For the giant orgy you’re convinced we’re about to have in the backyard.” “Dory! Just go!” “I’ll go with,” Ray said, getting up. “I need a snack.” Which was how I ended up condom shopping with a vampire. the house in my old Firebird. “No. She’s just…under a lot of pressure right now.” “What pressure? Her kid’s okay, right?” I nodded. Actually, I had no idea what Claire’s problem was. Maybe it was just residual. In about a year, she’d gone from underpaid auction-house employee to fey princess to new mother to woman on the run with her endangered child, who also happened to be the heir to the Blarestri throne. It was enough to put anyone on edge. But Aiden really was okay, with the conspiracy that had threatened his life over and the instigator dead. And he was now in possession of a talisman that pretty much ensured that he’d stay that way, even if someone managed to get past the wards, the phalanx in the garden, and the tense, half-dragon mother. Frankly, I didn’t fancy anyone’s chances. “She’ll calm down eventually,” I told Ray. “So what are you doing here again?” “Living,” he said, which I’d have taken for a smart remark, except he sounded pretty emphatic. But I didn’t have time to follow up on it. The nearest store was only a couple blocks away, and we’d already arrived. Sanjay, brother to Bawa of the world’s deadliest curry, ran it, but he went home at six and some new girl was on duty. We skirted the aisles of Ramen, cards of press-on nails and towers of hairspray that constituted daily essentials in Brooklyn, and finally located the condom aisle. It also housed the diapers and the baby food. I wasn’t sure if that was random product placement or brilliant advertising, but either way, there was a good selection. “So what kind are we talking about here?” Ray asked, surveying a neatly stacked display. “I don’t know. Just pick one.” “Well, there’s a lot of choice. I mean, you got your flavored, your ridged, your pre-lubed, your thin, your super-ultra-thin, “It says it glows in the dark.” “So?” “So what use is that to anybody? I mean, what am I supposed to do? Write her name in the air with it?” “I’d rather not think of you doing anything with it,” I said honestly. “Besides, the fey already glow, so you gotta think it’s a waste of—” “Ray!” I glanced around, but there was nobody within earshot. “Well, excuse me if I’m not used to buying condoms for aliens,” he said more softly. “They’re not aliens.” “Well, they’re not human. I mean, they could have anything under those tunics, you know?” “Like what?” “Like…I don’t know. It could be barbed or something.” “Barbed?” “Well, I don’t know.” He slanted me a glance. “Do you?” I just looked at him. “No, of course not. You’re too uptight.” “I am not uptight.” “You’re the definition of uptight. I bet you and Mr. Muscle Bound haven’t even done it yet.” “Okay, enough with the personal—” “Nailed it.” He nodded. “You wouldn’t have freaked out on him this afternoon otherwise. ‘Oh, no, somebody’s in my head for five seconds, even if it did save my life—’” I scowled. “You don’t get it. He’s not supposed to be able to do that.” “He’s a senior master. They got skills.” Ray shrugged. “Anyway, I don’t know what you’re complaining about. As soon as a baby and that he better toe the line. There’s the senior vamps in the family, checking out the new talent, just in case they want to recruit him for one of their cliques later on. There’s the slightly older babies, trying to dig up some dirt to make sure he stays on the bottom of the heap, and so on. And they never shut up . Yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak, yak. It drove me crazy for years.” “Is that what happened?” “But I got used to it. So will you.” “Maybe I don’t want to get used to it,” I muttered, examining a box that promised to vibrate. I thought that was my job. I put it back. “Oh, you want it, all right,” Ray said. “The two of you practically melt the walls every time you get within three feet of—” “That’s not the same thing,” I told him irritably. It wasn’t the sex that worried me. I’d had sex; I’d never had a relationship with a vampire unless you counted Mircea, and look how well that had turned out. If I couldn’t even manage the usual father-daughter stuff, how was I supposed to handle something much more complex with someone I didn’t know half as well? Relationships weren’t my best thing. They never had been. Even the easy ones. And nothing about Louis-Cesare was easy. “It is when you’re dating a master. You gotta take the whole package, you know?” Ray said. And then he stopped, and turned to look at me. “Hey, that’s it, isn’t it?” “What is?” “You never dated a master before.” “I’ve been with vampires.” “Yeah, sure. Any regular old vamp—I can see that. I mean, you’re stronger than him; you’re the one calling the shots; you’re the one who says when you’ve had enough and it’s time to head out.” the door. He blinked. “Well, that oughta do it.” I grabbed the basket o’ condoms and went to wait in line, ignoring the looks from a couple people ahead of me, who were apparently not used to seeing someone buying twenty boxes at once. Ray went to lean on the counter, supposedly enthralled by an awesome display of toenail clippers, but in fact snacking on the salesclerk. And, predictably, my stomach curled into a knot. It was one of the things—one of the very, very many things—about dating a master that wasn’t going to work. Ray made it sound so easy, like this was just some kind of tug-of-war, some weird power play, that I needed to get past and I’d be fine. Like all the other humans who eagerly lined up to attach themselves to the great houses. Mircea probably turned away fifty a month, and those were just the ones arrogant enough to try. Louis-Cesare, as the longtime darling of the European Senate, could hardly have attracted any fewer. Ray probably thought I should feel honored to have caught his eye. That I should feel grateful. That I should feel…whatever those other humans felt. He forgot one thing. I wasn’t human. There had always been a love/hate—okay, mostly hate—thing going on with me and the vampire community. I’d tried to stay away; I’d spent years trying. Like Claire said, there were other things to hunt and most of them were much less likely to hunt me back. But there was nothing that made my blood sing, my senses reel, my heart pound quite like chasing my natural prey. to me; they never had been. There was this weird kind of yearning underneath it all, and resentment and jealousy and a bone-deep ache that I didn’t understand. Not completely. I just knew that, every once in a while, the craving got too deep and it was either fight or fuck, and mostly it was the former but sometimes…sometimes it had been the latter. Just long enough to get it out of my system, to keep myself from going crazier than I already was. And then, yeah, I moved on. Why the hell wouldn’t I? If I stayed around, it always ended the same way, and crazy or not, I didn’t particularly like the idea of staking a former lover. No matter how much a few of them had deserved it. But this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was…well, I didn’t really know what this was, since I’d been avoiding discussing it. Talking about it meant facing the fact that this weird little interlude or experiment or whatever the hell I thought I’d been doing had run its course. Because how could you care about someone when his very means of existence made your stomach hurt? Not that Louis-Cesare needed to snack on random clerks when he probably had a whole stable lined up and eager to be used. I knew that. But still. It was what he was . And I killed what he was. “What size you think they take?” Ray asked. I looked up, blinking, to see that it was my turn. “Does it matter? We have plenty.” “Well, yeah. But they’re all different sizes,” he said, piling boxes on the counter. “And what if the—what if they need something like extra small? You got enough extra smalls?” “They’re not extra small,” I told him irritably. “They don’t need extra smalls.” “I thought you said you didn’t know.” “They’re seven feet tall!” “Don’t matter,” he argued. “Plenty of big guys got a Tiny Tim. it counts, the ladies know. You don’t gotta advertise.” The mocha-skinned clerk, who could easily have made two of Ray, snorted. “Well, there’s no way to know,” I told him, “so we’re just going to have to chance it.” “You could call her and ask.” “Call—” I stopped. “You mean Claire?” “Well, it was her idea.” I had a sudden flash of Claire’s face if I called to ask what size condom her fiancé took. It was kind of breathtaking. “You want me to ring these up or not?” the cashier asked. “If they don’t fit, can we bring them back?” “No refunds on condoms.” “Just call her,” Ray said. “I am not calling Claire and asking…I’m not calling Claire.”“Okay by me. I mean, I don’t care. But you get ’em too small and they pop off, and you get ’em too big and they slide off, and either way, it’s pointy-eared babies all ar—” “Ray!” “I mean, I guess they’d go over pretty well at a Star Trek convention, but the rest of the time—” “All right! Stop it! All right!” “It’s not just Claire who’s a little tense,” he said, as I dug around for a cell phone I didn’t have, and then commandeered his. I didn’t waste time trying to figure out how to phrase this because some things are better just winged. “If you’re not buying anything, you gotta get out of line,” the cashier told me. “There’s nobody else in the store.” “Don’t matter—there’s rules. Somebody could come in, and I’m the only one on.” “Start ringing things up, then. This won’t take long.” “Why not those?” She glanced at Ray. “’Cause if that’s your man, I’d say you can leave these off,” and she pushed the three biggest sizes to the side. “Oh, no, you didn’t,” Ray said. “It’s your own fault,” I told him. She might have thought it, but she probably wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t been snacking earlier. But that sort of thing puts some people in a bad mood—usually those with enough magical blood to recognize the theft but not to name it. And the anger tends to resolve itself into a generalized dislike of the vamp in question. And then someone picked up. “Oui?” Damn. I thought about hanging up, pretending to be a wrong number, as cowardly as that would have been. But I guess he recognized my breathing or something—which was disturbing enough right there—because he said, “Dory?” “What are you doing there?” I asked, harsher than I’d intended. “I was about to ask you the same. Where are you?” “Buying condoms,” I said, watching the salesclerk ring up a box of mediums and hand them to Ray. “Why?” “Is there more than one reason?” I asked, because “we have a garden full of randy fey” wasn’t on the approved-conversation list. There was silence on the other end of the phone. “What’s this shit?” Ray demanded, looking at the salesclerk. “Honey, truth hurts, but ain’t no way you’re a Magnum.” “Well, I ain’t no medium!” The clerk smiled. “Yeah, but I was being generous.” “Dorina,” Louis-Cesare finally said. “You do realize…I thought you had been with our kind before.” “I have.” voice had changed. “Who are they for?” “What are you doing?” the cashier demanded, as Ray grabbed another box. “I ain’t rung those up yet.” Ray pulled out a foil package and tossed the box back on the counter. “So ring it up.” She arched an eyebrow, but didn’t bother, maybe because she was watching him unbutton his fly. I caught his wrist. “What are you doing?” “Proving a point.” “Not in the middle of the store, you’re not.” “Ain’t nobody here,” the cashier reminded me, grinning. “And ain’t no way he’s filling that thing out.” “Dorina?” Louis-Cesare’s voice was loud in my ear. The one I had squeezed against the phone, which was squeezed against my sore shoulder, because I was using both hands to keep Ray’s point in his pants. “The fey, damn it!” I told him. “They’re for the fey!” “Which one?” Louis-Cesare asked, his voice going velvety soft. “All of them— No, Ray! Ray, cut it out!” “ All of them?” “No, that’s not what I—”

#Karen Chance, Fury’s Kiss
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