Do not ask who I am and do not ask me to remain the same.
More than one person, doubtless like me,
writes in order to have no face.

Michel Foucault

Friday, September 7, 2012


“I do declare,” she said in a soft southern drawl full of syrup and honey like a white cloud wisped by a southern breeze, each word tipping it’s end in flair. “I believe I need a Mint Julep to calm my nerves.”

I don’t know about you, but I don’t think an editor of potential agent would be reading much further with this kind of tagging. Or ending each tag with I/he/she:

Whispered, murmured, whispered, murmured, whispered, murmured, whispered, murmured, whispered, murmured, whispered …

Tired of murmured, whispered yet? Don’t be or at get used to it if you want to read this novel.

While I am no Don Juan, I have been around the block a few times. And since I am not a spring chicken, my experience level with women (prior to getting married…which seems like forever) is probably on par with most normal men. Also, being a writer, curious, and having a wide area of interests, there’s not much that I haven’t either seen or heard of.


It’s been around since…a long time ago. There is Safeword Davenport by Candace Blevins or Comfort Object by Annabel Joseph and even as far back as the Marquis de Sade. But this takes BSDM to a new level. Then again, I have never read any of these novels, so what do I know?


CG maneuvers his personal helicopter with little Ana to Seattle where he has invited her into his digs and to sign “papers” so they can do the nasty. Signing papers was clue #1 that little Ana should hightail it out of Dodge and find a nice man to live with happily ever after—but this is fiction…right?

They both arrive, landing atop the apartment building and the writer, as usual, go into details, details, details, about wind blowing, grasping each other as the head to the elevator, push the button, door opens, mirrored walls, and CG into infinity. Then she describes the big, apparently big apartment with couches that could seat a bunch of adults, pictures, lighting Ana can’t see, blah, blah, blah and some more, murmur, whisper, murmur, whisper, murmur. I really don’t understand this. I mean, I know writing and editing, and all that other stuff we muddle through and yet one can count “murmur” a dozen times on a page. Let’s talk, for a moment about… murmur.

If someone murmurs a phrase they create amumbled or private expression of discontent.” With that, each time CG or Ana murmurs, they express discontent? I guess I will muddle on with this, but the writing is starting to get to my better senses.

Here they are in the big apartment and Ana must sign a non disclosure agreement.

Well…isn’t that part of any relationship?

This one is special in that all it means, CG explains, is Ana can’t talk to anyone about any part of their relationship. Ana responds with something like, “Oh cool! That’s all?” Doesn’t read it, just signs cuz it’s apparently, a NBDNDA…No Big Deal Non Disclosure Agreement and apparently Ana really, really, really wants CG…although she has never had sex and apparently she doesn’t like any of her friends enough to want to talk to them.

What did you just say? Never had sex? She’s a virgin? Oh, and apparently there is more paperwork she will have to sign.

So off to the playroom…

Ana first notices and describes in great detail, a large wooden X across a door with cuffs on each corner canes, whips, floggers, and lighting that makes everything look soft and romantic. Romantic? I am thinking about know she needs to describe the White Board and colorful markers on the wall were CG will now draw a diagram of how he like to… I mean, I think I would need instructions in a place like this and if you think about, if you have ever been in a Gym you just don’t go in and start lifting weights or riding the elliptical…someone has to show you. Also, unless you have been in one of these situations before (remember, she’s a virgin) I would think she would be freaking out about now. No…she is all cool cuz she’s gonna rack with CG. WTF.

Apparently, now they are hungry and they skip off to the kitchen to eat grapes and cheese…because that’s what I would do. She gathers enough nerve to ask, “How did you become this way?”

What? Hungry?

Yeah, we know what she’s talking about, but is that how you would approach it? You now know that CG is a fucking nut, and yet, you calmly ask, “How did you become this way?” Knowing that you are about to get rode hard and put up wet, and then tied up and chained, and…oh…you’re a virgin and HE DOESN’T KNOW IT YET. And they are still whispering to each other as if the room is full of “others” and someone might hear them.

Oh well…

Now it’s time for more paperwork covering the details of:

Obedience, Sleep (seven hours a night) Food, Clothes, Exercise (like the sex won’t be enough) Personal Hygiene (yeah, bathing is important…what? Waxed? This guy is kinky!) Personal Safety (no smoking, etc., and yet I am going to hang you from a large wooden X across a door with cuffs on each corner and flog you). Last but not least, the Submissive will not have sex with anyone else.

Now on to my favorite part of the novel, so far.

Everything signed and the only Ana concern is: negotiate exercise time, and CG buying her clothes. Then the conversation….

“Well, when you’ve had sex, was there anything that you didn’t like doing?” (CG)
“Well… I haven’t had sex before, so I don’t know.”
“Never?” he whispers. I shake my head.
“You’re a virgin?” he breathes. I nod, flushing again. He closes his eyes and looks to be counting to ten. When he opens them again, he’s angry, glaring at me.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he growls.

This is where I went, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Shut the book and finished my wine with “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” echoing in my memory.

One would think Mr.Billionaire would choose his victims with more finesse.

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