20 December 2007
Starting off with a bit of Old World for the Holidays!
Some little fantasy pictures, naturally!
But of course here's some Lord of The Rings Ladies!
And of course, me and my gracious webhost Kristin!
Do Visit The Doll on The Hill Factory for more. These girls are awesome!
17 December 2007
*Twas the month before Christmas*
*When all through our land,*
*Not a Christian was praying*
*Nor taking a stand.*
*See the PC Police had taken away,*
*The reason for Christmas - no one could say.*
*The children were told by their schools not to sing,*
*About Shepherds and Wise Men and Angels and things.*
*It might hurt people's feelings, the teachers would say*
* December 25th is just a "Holiday ".*
*Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it!*
*CDs from Madonna, an X BOX, an I-pod *
*Something was changing, something quite odd! *
*Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa*
*In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda.*
*As Targets were hanging their trees upside down*
* At Lowe's the word Christmas was no where to be found.*
*At K-Mart and Staples and Penny's and Sears*
*You won't hear the word Christmas; it won't touch your ears.*
*Are words that were used to intimidate me.*
*Now Daschle, Now Darden, Now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzen*
*On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton !*
*At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter*
*To eliminate Jesus, in all public matter.*
*And we spoke not a word, as they took away our faith* ;
* Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace*
*The reason for the season, stopped before it started.*
*So as you celebrate "Winter Break" under your "Dream Tree"*
*Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me.*
*Choose your words carefully, choose what you say*
11 December 2007
An Interview With Leigh Wood
By Kristin Battestella
-Do you recall your first encounter with erotica?
Hmm….I remember reading Arabian Nights for the first time and being really shocked yet glad the whole story isn’t in the abridged kids version. That would be really wrong. Orgies and incest, my God! Who looked at this and decided that if that was all cut out, it was okay for kids? A bit twisted somehow. I also really love Lady Chatterley’s Lover. It’s not about the sex, really! I’ve written a few commentaries on Chatterley. They’re posted at the blog.
-You are quite a Christian woman. How do you deal with the at odds nature of Religion and sex?
I don’t want to say they don’t conflict, because they do. I can see how it would offend some people. I just don’t personally perceive things that way. I didn’t think about writing sexual material until I first got involved with my husband. As a writer I had to get that emotional and, well yes, physical awakening on paper. Previously I found my romantic material too superficial and cliché. On The Way To New Isosceles is about two people who come to see the closure they can find in each other. The joy and companionship people should experience when they are free and attracted to each other-despite what other circumstances such as space factions and war may say. God’s best gift is said to be the love between a man and a woman. Erotic literature isn’t anything he doesn’t know about. It can’t compare to the real thing but when done with love, intimacy, and discretion, I don’t see erotica as anything more than food for thought. Reading erotica is an experience just like any other emotional book. Porn is just weird and purely for gratification. That’s kind of sick, to waste one’s time on gratification instead of intellect.
-Now, I recall you telling me Horns of Myleness is about a love triangle. How is that about love and intimacy if there is an odd person out?
Horns of Myleness is a cautionary erotica tale I think. It is dark, conflicting. I hope it really tears readers in two! There names may change yet, but should the Queen choose her King, who is really a beefy Arthurian warrior, or shall she run off with the darling misunderstood younger brother? Of course, wars and fantasy and unicorns-yes unicorns-will interfere along with emotions and betrayal and such. During my writing, there were times I hated the Queen for choosing one way or the other, ney then I loved her for following her heart. Unfortunately her choice is tied to the fate of Myleness. You want all to be happy, but you know it can’t be so. I hope readers will enjoy dividing over the boys, ala ‘Team Aniston’ and ‘Team Jolie’. I did. Where On The Way is about opening up, awakening, giving in to reasonable joys and desires, Horns of Myleness is in a way the opposite. Affairs usually turn out for the worst. It’s what can go wrong when caution is put on the wind.
-Which genre do you prefer? Favorite authors and books?
The genre of the moment. I like a lot of historicals and fantasies. SF. I like Dune, Darkover, Gormenghast. I was really disappointed with Mists of Avalon, though. I think I’ve grown out of MZB. I love King Arthur and similar stuff, but Mists kind of put me off it for awhile. I read a lot of religious material as well. I’m all for embracing polarity, what can I say?
For Part 1, visit The Vampire Family Livejournal
For Part 1, visit The Vampire Family Livejournal
09 December 2007
JJ grasped for air and felt her body tighten with the lack of oxygen. She must move, but it was so difficult. Did she move or merely think her labored limbs worked as she wanted? JJ’s vision blurred, but the temporary metal structure of the Nuke’s weapons facility was before her. Some mirage! Determined as ever, the Lieutenant ran, crawled, stumbled, and fought the elements to reach the enemy shelter. Really she should be dead. Did the Nukes alter the atmosphere or release one of their precious pathogens? JJ banged on the door and slammed the locking panel. The controls broke, and the door slipped open with a whoosh of air. JJ collapsed inside and fumbled for an internal key to close the door. It was to JJ, almost as if the door took its time.
JJ pulled off her broken helmet and shook bits of glass, plastic, and rock from her hair. The red head was crusted with blood, and dirty cuts littered her forehead.
“Shit.” JJ peeled off the irreplaceable but ruined spacesuit. What good was the crappy thing to her now? Her regular uniform was also ripped and bloody, and her gun was lost. All her equipment was gone. JJ sighed.
“How am I going to get back to the drop ships?”
Once again, JJ pleaded with her silent friends, ney family. Her real family was buried on earth. Her team was all she had.
“Captain?” JJ picked up her helmet and whispered into the transmitter. “Lieutenant Johnson to Captain Westmayer?”
JJ bit her urge to curse and flung the helmet away.
“I’ll just have to do things myself.” JJ tiptoed down the enemy’s dim and plain hallway. Maybe her team was slaughtered. Most likely. Perhaps the drop ships were destroyed indeed. Maybe even the Mother Ship was under attack and losing against the newer Nuke ships. If that was the case, JJ could at least finish her mission. Hell, what else was there to do?
The facility had looked small on the outside. Temporary, as most of the Nuke testing labs were. Surely there was a command area. JJ had fought similar battles before. Turns, corridors, but no doors. Was all the Nuke magic underground? JJ looked at the patterns under her boots. Seamless! All these hallways looked the same!
JJ found a corner and slid to the floor. She would swear she went in a complete circle, but she had yet to encounter her discarded spacesuit again. JJ felt weak and examined her cut arm. She must have lost some blood, but the cuts were crusted with dirt and dried blood now. If only she could scan herself for infection!
The whoosh of the asteroid’s vacuum echoed again, and JJ heard the door seal shut. She closed her eyes, then stood and braced herself. If the mission was indeed a trap, then the tin can she was in was probably in fact, empty. At least, JJ could take this Nuke before he took her. Combatants had a reputation for their fierce hand to hand skill, and JJ was the best. She would let this Nuke know it. Clothes rustled, and the sound of a slow, long zipper echoed through the building. JJ’s heard her own spent suit tossed aside again and her helmet echoed away. The cracked headpiece skidded down the tin corridor passed JJ.
“Hello?” A cheeky man’s voice called. He no doubt enjoyed the situation, stupid Nuke. “I know we have a visitor. Who could it be?”
Footsteps came closer. Not too obvious to some, but JJ had a trained ear. The man must have be tall, not heavy, but built weight lay behind his steps.
“Come and play with me, please?”
JJ leaped around the corned. Her boot was high and her sharp kick struck the Nuke in the nose. He sprawled on the floor and covered his face as JJ kicked his gun away.
“Since you insist.” JJ smiled, determined to enjoy this last bout, but her enemy kicked away her ankles.
“Normally, I’d find this very cute.” He wrestled with JJ on the floor, but she was by no means easy to pin. “But I just want to get off this rock ASAP.”
“I feel the same way.” JJ elbowed him. She didn’t wish to converse, just insult. “About leaving I mean.”
“Feisty!” He twisted her arm, and JJ struggled against him. When was the last time she was this close to a man? Oh yes, she had roughed him up, too. The Nuke fluttered in her ear again. “Easy, Tiger.”
“I’m a dog person.”
JJ kicked her contester away, then stood and faced him. He was on his feet, ready as well. JJ punched and kicked in her personal combinations, but the Nuke was no slouch, actually. He blocked JJ’s blows, caught her foot, and threw her to the hard floor. The floor hurt. JJ recalled her outdoor ordeal, and briefly entertained the notion that she was not in fighting condition. The Nuke stood above JJ, his buzzed head and muscular physique ready for anything. He fought well, for a Nuke. My, JJ must be unwell if she could admit that to herself.
“As much as I don’t like to hit a woman, I hate the sight of my own blood more.” He wiped the blood from his nose, and JJ came towards him again. She would go on, just to shut him up. Unfortunately he stuck to his words, and the taunting Nuke blocked most of her crosses and jabs.
“Now I’m having fun!”
“Really?” Ha! JJ landed a perfect cut to the chin, and her fighting partner fell to the floor. JJ slid for his gun, but he was on her. He was heavy, yet his style held a slightly mocking tone. Why must her toy with her so? JJ clenched the laser in her hand, rolled onto her back, and pointed the Nuke gun. The man straddled JJ and pinned her to the ground, but he kept his distance from is own gun. He perched below her hips and weighed her down, yet he put up his hands in surrender.
“Still having fun?” JJ winked.
He was upside down from JJ’s perspective, but it was Captain Westmayer all right. He looked down at her, trying to look menacing again.
“Lower the weapon, Jess,” Westmayer ordered her. “Lieutenant Rubelli will not hurt you.”
The Nuke stood, smiled, and extended his hand.
“That would be me.” He winked.
JJ stood, but kept the gun poised. She looked between the Nuke and her Commanding Officer.
“Captain, I think I’m entitled to an explanation, Sir.”
“You and the rest of the unit, Lieutenant.” The Captain took the gun from JJ and squeezed her shoulder. “Stun guns, Jess. Tomorrow, 0800. I’ll fill you in on the details then. Suffice to say the Nukes are now our friends.”
04 December 2007
|You Are Dasher|
You're an independent minded reindeer who never plays by the rules.
Why You're Naughty: That little coup you tried to stage against Santa last year
Why You're Nice: You secretly give naughty children presents.
Your Elf Name Is...
|You Are a Snowman|
Friendly and fun, you enjoy bringing holiday cheer to everyone you know!
03 December 2007
The drop ships neared the rocky surface and inched towards the ground. Landing gear sprung forth, but 69 hit a rock outcropping and jerked into the air.
"Shit!" Miguel yelled again. Ina closer eyes, but the sleepless JJ was unwavered. It wouldn’t be pretty, but they’d land.
The drop ship slammed onto the asteroid and skidded into the wasteland’s dirt. The craft smoked, but the Captain held tight. The small ship sped to a rough stop. It was stupid, dangerous, yet somehow fun-the perfect opportunity for JJ’s sarcasms.
"Another happy landing." She smiled and locked down her helmet.
The drop ships’ hatches fizzed one after another, and the geared up teams filed onto the hard terrain. JJ surveyed the battlefield with her rifle ready. She knew the ins and outs of all the Combatant weapons, but every single Combatant was just that-a hand to hand lean, mean, fighting kick ass weapon. But of course, in situations like these, weapons from a distance were best.
“We made a noisy entrance. Someone should be here to great us.”
“Don’t jinx it.” Ina followed her Lieutenant.
“How’s she read, Sergeant?” JJ called Miguel forward.
The team tinker and engineer, Miguel pulled out his scanning equipment as ordered. “We’re all accounted for, so far. No additional signals or pathogens.”
“The Nukes wouldn’t need any pathogens here.” Ina put forth. “Throw a rock and crack our face shields why don’t you?”
“I didn’t come all this way to suffocate,” Kimmie grumbled and turned on her helmet’s lights. Indeed the entire environment was deadly. Dark, no atmosphere, and tough terrain as far as the dim combat headlights could show.
They marched on from the landing area, but JJ inched ahead of her crew. She stopped and the column halted behind her. She motioned, and the team turned to the left with her. Westmayer was a capable commander, in league with the other Mother Ship Captains. Their fleet was small, but while the big wigs sat back in comfort, it was JJ who led her shipmates into battle. It was how she got as far as she did. She fought, and fought well. What else was there to do? JJ looked at the digital maps lighting up her gear.
“The facility is this way.” JJ climbed over a pile of natural rubble, and the Combatants followed. They marched over the tough terrain, and JJ continuously eyed her handheld diagram. Stones slid under their feet, and her stride lowered.
“It feels like we’re descending.”
Miguel brightened the lights on his helmet and surveyed the area. “Let me risk a little more power. It looks like a crater rim there. We must be near the middle of the hole now.”
“I’ve see one too many of those.” JJ pocketed her device. “This intel is wrong.”
“Asteroids are constantly changing,” Kimmie contested.
“Good for asteroids.” JJ looked towards the microphone inside her helmet. “Johnson to Westmayer.”
“I’ve got something!” Miguel raised his arm and the column trudged idle again. “Heat signatures. 98.6.”
“Us?” JJ turned to the Sergeant.
“Are we moving?”
“Fuck!” JJ exclaimed. “Ambush!”
Lights beamed from the crater rim and pulse weapons blazed around the trapped Combatants. She knew it! It hadn’t felt right. She knew it was absurd, and now it was too late.
“Take cover!” JJ ordered.
High tech colored lasers blasted all around. The unit fell to the ground one by one-some as ordered, others victims of the Nuke’s carefully laid plains. JJ flattened herself on the ground, but in the colorful firelight, she saw Miguel collapse next to her.
“Sergeant!” JJ called to him. “Miguel!”
JJ crawled through the crowded crater basin, careful of enemy fire and the jagged rocks. Such a perfect set up! The sharp ground ripped the outer layer of JJ’s sturdy-but not full proof-spacesuit.
JJ increased the speed of her spider-like crawl. She fumbled past her still comrades, unsure of the direction she was going.
“Johnson to Westmayer.”
There was no time to look at her data-not that it was accurate enough to help anyway. JJ scrambled to get clear. Out of the shootout, she could fix her suit and get back to the drop ships.
“Any drop ship, please respond.”
Were the drop ships ambushed as well? Did they prep for rescue as was procedure?
“Shit. No.” JJ approached the edge of the crater but looked back at the Nukes. They closed into the crater and finished off any twitching Combatants.
“Any Combatant respond.” Had she alone the wits to delay the inevitable? JJ rolled across the crusted crater’s edge. The gravel crumbled beneath her, and JJ rolled down the sharp terrain. JJ groaned and screamed at the rocks sticking her and tearing her suit. Sharp pebbles reached her skin and scrapped JJ’s elbows. Blood and dirt marred the rustling fabric.
“Oh! Ow! Fuck!”
Jagged jabs and hard rocks punctured through the space gear one fizz and pop after another. JJ gasped and slowed her tortured descent. She rolled once more and smashed her face shield against a rock.
Don't forget the first FIVE Chapters of On The Way to New Isosceles are available at Leigh Wood. Author.
26 November 2007
Here's a touch of On The Way to New Isosceles. Please remember this story is for mature readers only.
On The Way to New Isosceles, Chapter 1
It was Iowa, twenty years ago. The wheat fields were golden, the sky aqua- but JJ knew it was just a dream again. Every night Earth-luscious with life, vegetation, water-returned to JJ as it once was. The powerful atmosphere blew an ever so gentle breeze through JJ’s astral red hair. Her younger self walked knee deep in the swaying grains. It was hot; the sun shone its mid day summer brightest. Her little dress billowed-she was bare foot, and the seeds itched yet tickled her soles and bare arms. That morning it had rained, and beads of water still trickled from the budding grain and dropped between little JJ’s toes. Her feet would get dirty, and her mother would send her to the hose before JJ was allowed to enter the house.
Just as it had then, a shadow slid over the glistening grains. Not simple wisps of clouds, but a sudden, massive blanket of darkness. The golden sunlight vanished from view. A red glow lit up the afternoon, the horizon streaked with the colors of sunset and wildfires, and a fiery red meteor smoked across the sky. Hot coals rained down on the twelve year old, and JJ ducked below the equally defenseless grains. Lava like fire smothered the ground, and sulfur filled JJ’s lungs. The girl tried to turn and crawl home, but the ground was hot and quaked. It was dark, and the burning grains cast the dim flickering light of a thousand little candles. Iowa submerged into Hell. The comet fell to earth, and all that humanity knew of Gaia was gone.
JJ sat up in her bunk and hit her head on the solid deck plating. There was little room to breath on the Mother Ship, but better inside the hearty old ship’s cramped walls, then out in cold, black, oxygen-free space. Of course, JJ had chosen the top bunk.
“Another nightmare?” Her bunkmate’s concerned feminine call came from beneath the top bed.
JJ pulled her hair from its messy bun and wiped the sweat from her chest. Her heavy breathing calmed. Her hair was still red, but shorter and darker. She wasn’t flat chested, but her boobs weren’t as big as she would have liked. And of course, earth was still unable to sustain life. Well, it had been when what was left of humanity left ten years ago. How her home planet had faired since JJ hadn’t heard.
“As you were, Private,” JJ finally acknowledged. She laid back down and listened to their spaceship rumble. She was a Lieutenant in the Combatant Brigade, she needn’t give explanations when she wasn’t ordered to by her Captain. Ten years of space faring and fighting their rival human factions didn’t give time to go soft. Not that JJ was ever soft. She would, however, drift off to sleep again if she was left alone. Sleep was necessary to her business, but alarms stirred JJ again.
“Combat Teams to your drop ships,” The intercom echoed. “All Combat Teams to your drop ships.”
“That’s us!” JJ’s bunkmate jumped up and pulled on her gear. Her perfect uniform was on and her backpack ready before JJ slid off her bunk and carelessly tossed away her sleep shirt. The tall, fit Korean was a proper soldier, and as strict as JJ was, sometimes Ina Wu’s no nonsense attitude irked her. But JJ had little time to be irked, especially now. Her uniform was on and in tip top shape. Gear? Check. Backpack-JJ halted at the sight of a third, empty bunk. Their quarters were small for one, inconvenient for two, but their third roommate was not interested in bunking with other women.
“Wu, where is Kimmie?”
“I believe its been Private Lucas for awhile,” Ina informed.
JJ buttoned her top and locked her gear into place. “If she’s not at the drop ship, Captain Westmayer better not chew my ass.”
The women jogged down the shaking corridor with other combat specialists in rustling dark spacesuits, helmets, backpacks, and jiggling space gear. The team had been to the weapons lock up and took up their spacesuits with their rifles. The hefty doors of the Mother Ship beeped its warnings and opened before them.
“Let’s move it!” JJ rushed into the Lift Off Zone. Shuttles and drop ships waited for their personnel as the Mother Ship shook and echoed.
“Zone Doors Opening in two minutes. All Combatants to your drop ships.”
Combatants marched onto their drop ships, and Ina climbed up the rumbling ramp of Drop Ship 69. The swift Asian strapped into her designated seat, but a tall shadow prevented JJ from entering the transport.
“Lieutenant Johnson, I’ve told you before about the need for timely deployments.”
“I know, Captain.”
Where Ina’s severe stature and jaw line deceived about her dry wit and sometimes impish personality, Captain Scott Westmayer meant to look menacing, even if he was warm at heart. Although JJ had known Westmayer on earth, so maybe his warmness was for her and her alone. Not that there was time to really know people while hurling through space.
“Jess, you’re the best hand to hand combatant in the unit, but you’re lead by example attitude only goes so far.”
JJ wasn’t a leader. She was a fighter, but the Combatants needed leaders, and she didn’t argue with her superior. At least, not when there was a mission to be had.
“I know, Captain.”
“You’ve got to show more authority, Lieutenant.”
A disheveled private approached the ramp, and both her superiors glared. Her uniform was mis-buttoned over her lacey bosom, and what gear she did have was tangled around her shoulders. JJ was a bit jealous of her friend’s lust and carefree attitude, but sex doesn’t last. Combatants were fighting for their very existence, and this private was not doing her share. It wasn’t her fault. Everyone on earth had to choose a side. Kimmie couldn’t fly a spaceship, and she didn’t build nuclear weapons-she hadn’t the brains for those.
“Kimmie Dejonaire.” The Captain sighed with slight bemusement at the messy blonde, but he entered the drop ship. “Let’s go, Private!”
The Mother Ship was old-scorched on its hull, and rather clunky as spaceships go. The Combatants didn’t exactly get first choice in spacecraft, but this Mother Ship had been JJ’s home since she left earth. It was easy to personalize the old broad. Still chugging after all these years in her routine. The girl’s belly opened smoothly, and the Mother Ship’s doors released the drop ships one by one. JJ looked out the tiny window beside her seat. Cramped rows of jury rigged chairs carried the Combatants as the smaller crafts fell into space. Captain Westmayer stood by the controls in the drop ship and braved the descent. Never seemingly disturbed by anything, Ina smoothed her cropped dark hair and snapped on her helmet.
“Who is it Captain, Shitters or Nukes?” The man next to her asked.
“We’ve seen no signs of the Shippers,” The Captain stressed the proper nickname, and several of the boys laughed. Westmayer remained business. “We’ve learned the Nukes may be building more weapons on Asteroid 891X726.”
Westmayer put the information on the ship’s small display screens. The images shook and jumped with the jittery ship. Maps and pictures of the asteroid rotated before the team. All business as well, JJ studied the data.
“That’s a pretty big asteroid,” She cut in. “Still, all our drop ships won’t make the landing.”
“It will be tricky, but we have to land as many as possible.“ Westmayer focused on the material, not his personnel, as was his usual custom. “You’re objective when we land is to take their weapons facility by any means necessary.”
The Captain pointed to the proposed facility’s location, but the drop ship’s screens flickered.
“If we land.” Kimmie found her headgear and held onto her jiggling helmet. Their tiny ship shook more as it descended nearer the asteroid.
“When we land,” the Captain repeated. “If it cannot be taken, we will abort for an aerial assault.”
JJ frowned. “Why not an air raid first? Our lasers were up to 87 percent. The Mother Ship could be done before we…”
“Those are my orders, Lieutenant.” Westmayer turned away from JJ and fiddled with the controls.
A hearty Latino man looked squashed in the locked chair beside Kimmie.
“What’s going to stop the Nukes from releasing those pretty little bio hazards they like?”
“Shut it, Miguel.” Ina snickered. “You're always afraid a biological weapon is going to ruin your libido.”
“The Sergeant has a point,” JJ intervened, still perplexed at their unnecessary risk. “The asteroid could be flooded now. What guarantee do he have?”
“None.” Westmayer was grim. “They've used chemicals against us in the past. You all have your current inoculations.”
“We’re five years behind them!” Kimmie grumbled to Miguel.
If Westmayer heard, he did not let on. “Take them by surprise and get to that facility before the Nukes can push any buttons. Good luck."
“Don’t lay it on all at once.” Miguel crossed himself.
The drop ships fired their thrusters and descended slowly and evenly toward the asteroid. JJ felt the rumbles and quakes, but she was used to it. When they first took to spaceflight, they all became ill and nauseous ascending, descending-every time a ship shook. JJ turned from the tiny window and looked up and down her team. This was old hat now. Some of them even slept, but no one turned green.
“Check your comms,” JJ ordered as she adjusted her headset. Already there was ships’ chatter.
"Drop Ship 73 your coming in too fast!"
A drop ship zoomed passed the others and skidded over the rocky terrain. It deflected off a rough peak and crashed onto the asteroid’s abysmal surface. JJ blinked at the brief flashes outside her window. Pieces of hot metal slammed against the other drop ships, and Kimmie jumped at the echoes and clangs. More drop ships overshot the asteroid.
“57 shorten your thrusts.”
"Drop Ship 34, we’re trying to circle back for another go."
"Negative," Captain Westmayer ordered. He looked at the fritzing monitors and sensors. "Stay off as reinforcements. 41, 83, you’re on call as well."
"What number are we again?" Miguel turned to Kimmie.
"Drop Ship 69."
Check out the Leigh Wood. Author. Website for more!
20 November 2007
On The Way to New Isosceles
A Tale of Love and War…In Space!
Who the heck is Who?
Lieutenant Jessica Johnson
Nicknamed JJ by her Combatant comrades, the strong willed red head has seen much and harbors her share of ill will towards her enemy the Shippers, and her former enemies the Nukes. JJ was a child when the comet destroyed Earth, and the otherwise all business Lieutenant often has nightmares reliving the destruction if her hometown in Iowa-the crash site of the deadly meteor.
Lieutenant Jason Rubelli
Rub is the Nuke Ladies Man almost by default. His wit, fighting prowess, charm and good looks make he an easy leader to follow. Most of the Combatants has no trouble answering to Rub. JJ, however, resents his presence and his attraction to her. Rub’s not afraid to mix business with pleasure, but his attitude begins to change once he’s forced to bunk with JJ.
Captain Scott Westmayer
Scott Westmayer knew JJ on earth, and their history is very special to JJ. The only person allowed to call her Jess, JJ isn’t afraid to tell her Captain what’s on her mind, and Westmayer always lends an ear. A dear friend and command, Westmayer is always giving JJ the support she needs-except when it comes to Nukes. Westmayer wants to see an end to the war, and he expects JJ to follow his lead.
Staff Sergeant Miguel Carlos Santiago Rafael
Once the fresh Latino befriends Rub, he’s not afraid to discuss his sexuality with the Nuke. On the journey to New Isosceles, Miguel develops into something of a double agent. Trusted by both JJ and Rub, Miguel is able to give each of the Lieutenants valuable information regarding their turbulent relationship.
Colonel Jackson Gauthier
The commended leader of The Nukes is determined to keep the delicate alliance with the Combatants alive, even going so far as agreeing to put the opposing Lieutenants JJ and Rub together. When Shipper threats become a reality, Gauthier’s leadership saves the day.
Private Ina Wu
Witty Korean Ina Wu is a swift fighter and swifter woman for attempting to stay above ship politics and romances. She is perhaps JJ’s closest friend on board, often providing level headed advice and logical plans of action-in ship operations on and off the bridge.
Private Kimmie Dejonaire
Although she is slightly ditzy and known more to her fellow combatants for her bedroom services, Kimmie Dejonaire is an exceptional hand to hand fighter. She gladly trades techniques with her new Nuke friends and develops a special relationship with Nuke Corporals Tammy Lyn Filago and Miller Worthington.
Corporal Tammy Lyn Filago
Tammy Lyn is lovingly called TLF by her male Nuke pals, and not because its her initials. Her romantic history with Rub isn’t exactly clear, and it causes some awkward moments between Tammy Lyn and her newfound superior, JJ. Despite their similar hot hot status, Tammy Lyn and Kimmie become very close, even developing an unusual relationship with Mills Worthington.
Corporal Miller Worthington III
Mills is somewhat of a geek or nerd. His genius is behind most of the Nuke technologies, but the Corporal is also part of the popular Nuke set. Rumors about his physical prowess spread through the Combatant Mother Ships, and Miller quickly finds himself at the center of both Kimmie Dejonaire and Tammy Lyn Filago’s affections.
Corporal Edward MacDonald
Mac may appear stupid and living every moment according to his Machismo nickname, but the Nuke is shrewd in strategy and planning. Often the final piece of a Nuke puzzle, Mac also uses his wit for elaborate pranks and relationship theories. A long time friend of Rub, Mac also becomes a source of strength for JJ where the Nuke Lieutenant is concerned.
Everyone ought to love science fiction, don’t you think? You have to wonder what people do with themselves on those long space flights-entertain a gentleman or lady, perhaps two-or both! These notions were the genesis for On The Way To New Isosceles.
Subtitled ‘A Tale of Love and War In Space’, On The Way To New Isosceles tells the tale of a man and woman on opposite sides of a post apocalyptic human struggle. JJ and Rub find what they were least expecting-a little love and relaxation goes a long way on an extended space journey.
It seems like a simple premise as I’ve described here, but it’s a notion that’s tough to find. On The Way To New Isosceles is a unique tale perfectly mixed with healthy amounts of story and erotica Hope you like things spicy!
On The Way to New Isosceles is almost ready for submission to the top erotica e-publishers. I’m a stickler for editing to perfection! For a gander at the first 5 chapters of On The Way To New Isosceles, as well as character biographies and fun, visit
Alternatively, I might repost chapters here, so check back! If you’re in the industry and want to see the completed manuscript, drop me a line!
19 November 2007
Lady Chatterley’s Lover Wasn’t All That Shocking
By Leigh Wood
After one too many viewing’s of the 1992 BBC production of Lady Chatterley, I finally broke down and read the book. I thought the 1928 unedited version of Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence would be a tough book to find. Expensive, rare, old leather, smelly, buried in an antiquarian store-that type of book. Indeed I was very pleased to find the 1928 Unexpurgated Oriali Edition in paperback at my local Borders. $4.95!
I wrapped Mists of Avalon as quickly as possible and avoided watching the film before I plunged into Lover. I read other writers’ criticisms on D.H. Lawrence and his works before purchasing the book, and I knew the book and movie didn’t have the same ending. Of course, I also knew the book’s controversial reputation and supposedly salacious use of naughty words and torrid sex talk. My edition opened with forwards and introductions detailing the book’s tough road to publication and the aftermath of censorship. Although this story is fairly well known in literary circles, this introduction is informative, with details and facts on the books printing, pirated editions, and trial information. Even if one was a toe towards prudish, you can’t not be interested in reading Lady Chatterley’s Lover after these words of praise.
Although the 1992 adaptation by Ken Russell is quite faithful,
The great part of Lady Chatterley’s Lover is the love discovered between the titular characters, so I was intrigued by the intitial Michaelis relationship. We learn much about Connie intellectually and sexually through this affair, internal thoughts and disappointing feelings that can’t be show onscreen. I’ve read other fans commentaries online about Joely Richardson’s performance as Lady Chatterley in the BBC version. Women sometimes find her portrayal conceded and flaky. Connie has nothing to loose, where Mellors has everything to loose. In the novel, this is certainly not the case. Connie is already nothing, an emotionless drone whose stature gives her nothing.
Likewise the Mellors in print has everything to gain. His backstory is greatly detailed by
Lady Chatterley’s Lover has kept me thinking about itself long after I’ve finished the book. I’d like to read it again and find answers to these questions. Although it is a thorough British book in time and place, Lover also presents very modern thoughts and conjecture. After
Although the work speaks for itself when it comes to sex, society, and even religion, my edition of Lady Chatterley’s Lover came with ‘A Propos on Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ by D. H. Lawrence himself. After finishing the book on a positive note, I was disappointed in this thirty page essay. One should always let his work speak for itself, and there’s no need for this redundant and overlong speech from
If you’re looking for porn or sexual gratification, you won’t find it in Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Most certainly the book is not for everyone, and if frank sexual talk and situations is not your cup of tea, do skip this read. I’lm a fairly straight laced individual, and I only second guessed the book once. In Chapter 16 or 19, I thought the anal sex euphuisms were getting a bit redundant. I giggled a few times over the language, but was moved by other beautiful descriptions from
Lady Chatterley’s Lover is by no means for children or prudes, but it is a fine novel that has transcended time and place. We may be too loose or vulgar in our society today-celebrities with wardrobe malfunctions and half naked women in music videos. Lover and the books in its wake may have caused this openness, but the book also reminds me of the good things about he past. Women wore gloves, men tips their hats to all, and writers wrote great books.
Lady Chatterley Not All Porn (But Still Not For Everyone)By Leigh Wood
On The cusp of my Lord of The Rings obsession, I’ve been passing the time by watching films starring the actors from Peter Jackson’s Oscar winning epic trilogy. When my quest for Sean Bean films led me to watch Ronin- in English and Spanish-I broke down and bought the first movie I had seen the Boromir actor in- the 1993 BBC production of Lady Chatterley.
Sure Patriot Games and Goldeneye are great, but it was director Ken Russell’s adaptation of the banned D.H. Lawrence novels that embedded Sean Bean in my brain. Sex, adultery, class divides, and naughty language sent not one, but three versions of D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover underground. When the third and most tame version was finally published in 1962, scandal and controversy erupted on both sides of the
I knew nothing of this history when I first saw the theatrical two hour version late at night on cable. Boy or girl, a young teen will find the soft core porn that is currently everywhere in our society. At the time, I often tuned in for Red Shoe Diaries. A few bumps and grinds, perhaps some boobs, sometimes a nice story and historical location. The Marilyn Chambers movies, however, I could do without. I sought more than weak porn. I wanted a story.
Imagine my surprise when Lady Chatterley appeared. Unlike its early 20th century/World War I contemporaries Avonlea and The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles, Lady Chatterley stars Joely Richardson as the sexually repressed young wife of a paralyzed veteran (James Wilby) who finds love in a scandalous affair with her husband’s gamekeeper (Sean Bean).
Make no mistake, there are kinky folks who will tune into the second and third parts of Lady Chatterley’s four hours purely for the sex scenes. To take the series only for those visuals, is however an injustice. The miniseries format allows director Russell to take the time and set up the marriage of Lady Constance and Sir Clifford. They are both intellectuals in the upper class. Connie hails from a heady and upstanding artistic family, and Sir Clifford has a long list of noble names to live up to. The couple get on well enough, but there is already strain between them when the story opens. One might wonder how and why they married in the first place. The War? Perhaps the union was an unofficially arranged one? Already we have questions, as does Lady Chatterley. She yearns for more than serving as nurse to her often grumpy (although understandably so) husband. Sir Clifford, however, doesn’t want to see his title end, and invites Connie to take a lover, in hopes of claiming an illegitimate child for his own.
I dare say the serious opening and closing hours of Lady Chatterley are my favorites. The story’s setup and resolution are indeed more important than the sex scenes, even though no sexual scene is superfluous or fluff. The reflections on the war, striking coalminers, and class debates all give weight to the story. Sir Clifford reads and becomes extremely intellectual while bound to his wheelchair, yet he sees nothing wrong with the English class divides. Connie of course disagrees with the notion that there will always be people who boss and people to boss. Mellors is a higher servant than most, yet he still must take orders from other household servants, and Sir Clifford mocks his accented speech.
The absurdity of this class division is obvious to the viewer. The juxtaposition of the bright, big, and beautiful green Chatterley estate versus the cramped dirty, rocky mines is a smart move by Russell, as is the love scenes between Connie and Mellors. The natural wooded part of the estate is theirs, where class troubles can’t reach them, and simplicity and innocence rule-unlike the cold, structured halls of the Wragby estate.
Russell and his co screenwriter Michael Haggaig also give double duty to the production’s dialogue. I’ve not read any versions of
The acknowledgement of speech divides is also sharp. When Connie’s sister Hilda (Hetty Baynes) finally meets Mellors, she asks him to speak ‘normal English’. The similar but different nature of the way they talk should keep the lovers apart, but it is a treat for the audience. Listen closely, and not just for the naughty language.
Now of Nip/Tuck fame, Joely Richardson was fairly new at the time of Lady Chatterley’s release, as was future Sharpe star Sean Bean. Both give every ounce to the production, and the delivery from the actors is also perfect. The way Sean Bean says ‘Your Ladyship’ alone shows his pent up torment. We follow Connie’s perspective more, but listen closely to Mellors’ speeches. He’s been a lonely misunderstood soul and now he’s found an emotional awakening with the one woman he shouldn’t have. Likewise Joely Richardson is perfect in nearly every frame. She’s so proper in the beginning, then shrinks in illness. She looks radiant and grows in beauty as her relationship with Mellors grows. The looks and unspoken movements between the two are exceptional. She bites her lips and nails when observing Mellors, and he often tilts his head or hunches away shy in her presence-as opposed to his upright towering over the permanently seated Clifford.
The chemistry between the leads is evident, yet Russell swiftly finds ways to symbolically divide them onscreen. Many of the scenes between Richardson and Bean are through fences or gates, implying one or the other is always locked out or in. Even after their relationship begins, trees or posts will cut the two shot down the middle, leaving a divided but symmetrical shot onscreen. Subtle but brilliant from Russell. These shots show how out of her element
Sir Clifford and his nurse Mrs. Bolton also develop a special relationship, parallel to Connie and Mellors, but acceptable of course. Their conversations seem more evenly matched. They play chess and the widowed nurse is more physically intimate with Sir Clifford then Connie, taking over the duties of bathing and shaving him. Her words are also accented, but Clifford never insults her about it. Wilby does a fine job as Clifford. He insults and bosses Mellors, but in fact it is Clifford who cannot function without his servants. Mellors may take orders, but he his own man, where Clifford’s paralysis puts him at the mercy of everyone else-even Mellors.
Wilby swiftly moves from sorrowful and intelligent to brutish and melancholy. You feel bad for Clifford when his motorized chair gets stuck, and further emotional when it is Mellors who must push the crippled husband of his lover. Sir Clifford of course insults Mellors and then we hate him again.
Perfectly matching James Wilby is Shirley Anne Field as Mrs. Bolton. She plays the widowed nurse expertly yet with a slight air of ambiguity. Her button up style and always proper air are perfect, if a little Mrs. Danover from Rebecca. She claims to be there for both the husband and wife but clearly puts together the pieces about Lady Chatterley and Mellors. When rumors begin about their affair, Russell alludes that it might have been Mrs. Bolton leading the servant talk, yet she swiftly covers for Connie and keeps Sir Clifford in the dark. Clueless as he is anyway, Clifford doesn’t doubt Mrs. Bolton, nor does Lady Chatterley. It’s almost as if she might have let something slip, but not out of malice. Mrs. Bolton seems to understand that Wragby Hall isn’t where Connie belongs and seeks to speed her escape to Mellors. The women talk frankly about knowing true love, warmth, and tenderness from a man. Mrs. Bolton knows that is what Connie needs, and she won’t get it from Sir Clifford.
Social and sexual intrigue aside, Lady Chatterley is a stunning period piece. The Wragby Hall location is breathtaking and takes on the feel of a supporting character itself. When Mellors waits on its vast steps, he’s clearly out of his element. Likewise Clifford’s room could seem like a dream. Incredible bed, books everywhere, the piano and the latest inventions. Connie, of course, fits neither in the uppity hall or the meager shack in the woods. Joely
Sean Bean’s costume also says far more about his character than he does. So lowly valued, yet he wears a button collar and tie while he lurks the woods with a dog and a gun strapped to his back. The wearing or removing of his page boy hat also add depth to Mellors’ mood and respectfulness. Even the music and props complete every scene. By no means is Lady Chatterley some B porn production. The wind up gramophones, old time radios, candelabras, and vintage cars sell every authenticity, and the score moves between modern jazz tunes and haunting classical arrangements. Russell insisted on using English compositions, and the tunes top off the flavor of the film.
But finally I must mention what I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for. The sex scenes in Lady Chatterley were spared nothing less than Russell’s best, of course. There isn’t any foreplay, fondling, or even oral sex. When Connie and Mellors finally get to it, they get to it. The initial consummation is a bit awkward for both parties. They discuss and try to resist but ultimately succumb to the sort of re-virginal experience. Lady Chatterley hasn’t been with a real man in some time, and Mellors confesses his demeaning wife was the only woman he had ever been with. The dialogue is indeed necessary in the kinky scenes. If what’s going on isn’t clear in the visuals, the characters say what they mean, and I mean they say it!
The pre and post conversations are particularly important in two ambiguous sex scenes-one that is near rape and another that is most likely anal sex. If you’re not reeling and all giggles over those, prepare yourself for Part 3. I suspect Lady Chatterley’s ‘For Mature Audiences Only’ warning is for the full frontal nudity sequences. I don’t wish to spoil it, but ladies if you go in slow motion, you will see the whole Bean.
In the end, however, Lady Chatterley isn’t about the tawdry sex scenes. By part 4, sensitive types may need a box of tissues. The speeches from Connie and Mellors are so sincere, honest, and downright poetic that the audience can’t help but root for the couple. Russell hold nothing back, from nasty husbands, kinky sex, and bad language so that we are raw, primed, and moved for the production’s big finish. In Lady Chatterley’s final fifteen minutes, you will be agonizing and cheering Connie and Mellors on to happiness. Do our fair lovers find each other at the end? I shan’t tell!
The Lady Chatterley DVD is available in all regional formats at a very affordable price. Usually under $30 at most retailers, or online if you’re a bit shy about the purchase. The double disc set has little special features to speak of, only a brief photo gallery, trailers, and an interview with Ken Russell. Not for children of course, I also don’t think men will enjoy Lady Chatterley. Despite plenty of Joely’s bits, males won’t be interested in the story or period costume drama. Keep Lady Chatterley for your own guilty pleasure, or for that all girls night you’ve been planning. All four hours in one sitting, tears, and repeat viewings- I assure you Lady Chatterley will not disappoint.
14 November 2007
Disappointed with The Mists of Avalon
By Leigh Wood
After a few Darkover reads and two or three viewings of TNT’s telefilm The Mists of Avalon, I decided to take up the heavy read of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s first Avalon novel. I debated purchasing the hard back online, but a friend found a $3 trade paperback edition second hand, and I was set. It was a hefty book, and I was tempted to read The Lord of the Rings again instead, but once I was on page one I couldn’t stop.
Bradley’s tale focuses on the women from the King Arthur legends. We open with Igraine, the future mother of Arthur. After her sister the Lady of the Lake Viviane sets Igraine up with Uther Pendragon, the Lady takes Igraine’s daughter Morgaine to Avalon. Morgaine grows to a fine priestess, but Avalon is changing, and as Arthur and his wife Gwenhwyfar struggle to have a child, their court becomes more and more Christian. Who’s way of live will prevail?
I did some research on Marion Zimmer Bradley before I read The Mists of Avalon. I was surprised to find her connections to modern and Neo Pagan organizations, in addition to questions about her sexuality. What should that matter? I’ve read every other King Arthur book, and I hope I wouldn’t be deterred by such labels. Unfortunately, Bradley lets her politics into the novel. Pages and pages are nothing but religious banter from priests and merlins or gossiping women. Sin, Sex, Men versus women, Bad Christian priests, Good Druid Priestesses.
Often the point of view the reader is supposed to be following at the time isn’t even involved in the conversation. Often she is merely listening, taking the reader out of the carefully crafted set up and locales. Some readers might enjoy the theological debates. Its no matter whether the reader is of a Christian bend or a Pagan bend, merely the loss on the entertainment scale. If I wanted to read philosophical debate, I’d read a nonfiction book about the histories, struggles, and colonization of Britain and how it effected religion.
Another strike against The Mists of Avalon is its seemingly old styled grammar and lack of editing. I thought this was the novel that made MZB, well, MZB. How then did an epic novel with such poor transitions, formatting, and point of view come to print at Del-Rey? Today’s editors are all about strict viewpoints and clear scene transitions. Not occasionally does Bradley change views from scene to scene, but at every opportunity available, the reader is asked to head hop to all involved in the conversation. We’re subject to what every knight at the round table thinks, along with what every Druid or priestess psychically sees or feels. Its annoying, confusing, sometimes overwhelming enough to read a sentence two or three times, and most important of all, it detracts from the intimate relationships the characters are trying to establish.
The simplest way to break down the characters-and there are a lot of them, but that’s understandable when one is trying to give all bits of Arthurian legend its due-is to take the novel in the Morgaine versus Gwenhwyfar storyline. Early in the read, I liked Morgaine-even after I was tempted to put the book down over its condoning of incestuous relationship between Morgaine and Arthur. In Book Three, however, I came to dislike Morgaine. Her obsession with plans and plots against the King’s Court put Bradley’s Morgaine right back to the bad girl Morgan Le Fay. After reading so much about the Goddess and who is the Goddess or who could be the Goddess, I just stopped caring. Earlier in the book, we went through these same questions with Viviane as Lady of the Lake. Both women ask where the line is between themselves and The Goddess, and if they are doing her will or their own. For such a key factor in The Mists of Avalon, I found this debate silly, even absurd. How many times is this question going to be asked before someone realizes that its not up to any person to presume any God’s will? That’s what I’ve always loved about Arthur stories. It’s so Titanic. For all its grandiose plans, Camelot never seems to learn its lesson.
Now then, if I am so wishy washy over Morgaine and the Goddess, surely I must favor quote unquote good Christian Gwenhwyfar. Unfortunately, she’s just as bipolar. We meet Gwen as a timid agoraphobic child and are forced to ride along as she becomes a bitter hypocritical fanatic. Anything and everything becomes a sin to her, even though she is constantly trying to justify her love affair with Lancelet. Gwenhwyfar finds Morgaine so evil, but the Queen of Camelot’s over pious demands on priests, penance, and her barrenness as a punishment for Arthur’s incestuous sin is too much. I want to smack her more than sympathize with her. The only chance I felt near sympathizing with little Gwen was the chapter in which she’s kidnapped and raped by Meleagrant. Hundreds of pages of just talk or women waiting around the spinning, the one time we get any sort of serious movement in the story-and its resolved in one chapter.
Too often The Mists of Avalon falls into the “Morgaine Speaks” fail safe. Whenever Bradley wants to explain something quick or move the time and place, she lapses into this omnipresent Morgaine speech. Even the end of the book disappointingly resolves itself here. In the biggest show don’t tell mistake of all, instead of reading the battle between Arthur and Mordred, we’re there for a summary from Morgaine. After thinking the book was redundant and played out before Book Four, I was further dissatisfied as a reader by Bradley’s cop-out ending. It’s a bad feeling to give the reader-if the author skips to the end so easily, why can’t I? Did I just waste a month on near 900 pages for nothing?
TNT is not my favorite network. Notorious for bad editing on film showings and way too many commercials, the network actually got it right for their original The Mists of Avalon event starring Angelica Huston, Juliana Margulies, and Joan Allen. I am very tempted to get the DVD for the additional scenes and features, for the 3 hour series broke down Bradley’s novel to its essential bits. All that I found over the top and played out in the book is gone from the film version. I dare say its superior to the book, and certainly a better viewing experience compared to the tiring read.
All right so it seems I’ve shredded The Mists of Avalon beyond reproach. Not so. Bradley’s accurate display of Druid material, Christian Scripture, British locales, and Roman history give life to the book. Her descriptions of England and its native lore often had me stopping my read and opening the encyclopedia for more on Cornwall, Lothian, and Glastonbury. Indeed her use of Arthurian tales is exhaustive. Although I was a little peeved by too many similar names: Morgaine, Igraine, Viviane, Ninane, Elaine, Gawaine, Uwaine-oiy! Bradley seems to have re-authenticated Arthurian tales by giving them a truly English, un-Frenchified feeling. As a kid I read anything Arthur I could find. Howard Pyle, T.H. White, even the Sunday Comics’ Prince Valiant In the Days of King Arthur. At the time, these reads seemed so big kid to me, but looking back, they were fairly juvenile. There may have been more women and less Arthur (and no Valiant!) than I might have liked, but The Mists of Avalon is perhaps the only mature Arthurian read, with a no holds barred approach on sex, relationships, and religion. I don’t think I’m a prude, but an open mind is a must when braving this 1982 best seller.
The Mists of Avalon is not for everyone. Readers of purely Christian material or those easily offended should definitely bypass Mists for its frankness, and truly not even teens should tackle this hefty read. I myself don’t intend to read the rest of the Avalon series, including The Forest House, Lady of Avalon, Priestess of Avalon with Bradley, then continued by Diana L. Paxson with Ancestors of Avalon and Raven of Avalon. My interest in the book was Arthurian. No doubt Arthur fans have already discovered The Mists of Avalon, but the book is worth a try for any mature fan of historical fantasy, myth, and magic.
If you would like to comment and are unable to do so here for some glitch, feel free to chat with me at the Kristin Battestella Yahoo Group
Technology is not my strong suit!