Good morning, Dear Readers! It’s a beautiful day here in sunny South Carolina. I do hope it’s sunny and warm where you are. I thought I’d begin this latest rant (yes, brace yourself. it’s going to be a rant.) with an exclamation of how excited I am to see the newest chapter in A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice for those that might not know)’s Beauty series. If you know anything about me at all you know that part of the reason I do what I do is because of the original Beauty trilogy (don’t worry, I’m going to put a link up later so you can get them for yourself). If you’ve read my novel Beast of Burden, you probably recognize that I was very much influenced by Rice.
I read the original Beauty Trilogy for the first time at probably twelve or thirteen years old. I smuggled them out of my sister’s room (sorry, Lucy Blue) and read all three in a weekend. They opened my eyes to a world of not just kinky sex (I already had a rudimentary knowledge of sexy stuff at that point) but to a world where the act of reading was actually a sensual experience. With every word in those books I was shocked, delighted, aroused and utterly intoxicated. By words. The descriptions of the people and places and experiences are so visceral and those images have stayed with me all these years. I owe Ms. Rice a tremendous debt of gratitude. She made me a reader, a writer and a woman in that single weekend with just under a thousand pages of text. Since then I’ve read those books all the way through at least a dozen times. I had to purchase a new set a few years ago because the ones I had were missing pages and the covers were torn. I consider them to be my personal reference. When I’m writing an erotic book and I get lost, I read Beauty’s Punishment (my favorite of the trilogy) so that I can remember that erotic stories are not just about sex, but about the people and the story. The words. Nowhere in those books does anyone talk about dripping wet love holes. Nor does the dialogue make you cringe. (“I fuck. Hard.” What?!!) The world in which Beauty and her companions exist is a world where sexual slavery is not only accepted, but longed for. It’s a symbol of status. Therefore, there are no silly contracts or instructions on how to properly flog your sub. Rice has no interest writing a BDSM instruction manual or a treatise on how to properly engage in an abusive relationship. It’s a FANTASY. It seems with all the erotic fiction out there, we’ve forgotten that these are FANTASIES that are supposed to entertain and titillate. Not inspire a lifestyle. But I digress…
Now comes the rant.
I was reading the Amazon reviews of the new book, Beauty’s Kingdom, this morning when I got to work. I plan to go and get my copy this weekend, but I was curious as to what others were saying. They were all pretty positive, but I’m having a hard time believing any of them. NONE of the reviewers on that first page had ever read the first books. NONE. One of them claimed that “The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty” came out in 1999. Another said that she hadn’t read the originals because she didn’t think that they would be her cup of tea, but she got an ARC of this and thought what the hell. I get the distinct impression that all of these folks picked it up and thought, “I wonder if this is as good as 50 Shades?” Which just cuts me to the core for a number of reasons that I’m sure you can guess based on past posts. The reason why this is annoying to me is because what I really want to know is— will Beauty’s Kingdom stand up alongside the original trilogy? Is it edgy and sexy and dripping with raw sensuality like the originals? None of these folks who I’m sure are very intelligent people could tell me because they hadn’t done their research. And if they’re getting ARCs, then they aren’t just the “average reader” anymore. They’re a pro reviewer, for lack of a better term. The “average reader” is looking to them for guidance before they spend the money. They have a responsibility, in my opinion. It would be like Roger Ebert reviewing Star Wars after only having watched the last fifteen minutes.
At any rate, despite the purist rage, I’m really excited to get my copy of Beauty’s Kingdom in a couple of days. I’ll be sure to post my review here when I’m done AND on Amazon. If for no other reason, then I believe in supporting authors– even superstars like Anne Rice. And I wouldn’t be a true indie author if I didn’t remind you…
HEY! If you like erotic retellings of fairy tales, try Beast of Burden by Alexandra Christian! Don’t believe me? Try an excerpt…
His words were cut short by another booming of thunder so loud it echoed off the stone walls, throwing the oil lamp to the floor at his feet. Without care for who he was or how he frightened her, Sascha leapt from the bed and threw herself into his arms. At first he was paralyzed with shock, having no idea how to react to this sudden change. After a few moments of her sobbing into his shoulder, he found himself wrapping his arms around her protectively.
“It’s alright,” he soothed. “You’re safe.”
“No I’m not,” she cried. “I’m as unsafe as any one girl could possibly be. Locked up in this castle without a soul that I know. A slave that has no idea what to do or say!” She burst into another torrent of sobs that left her shuddering against him. In a swift movement, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the chaise by the fire.
The embers had burned low, but still offered some illumination and warmth. He cradled her body against his, tucking her head under his chin. “You’ve nothing to fear, little one,” he purred into her ear softly. “No harm will come to you here.”
“I wish I could believe you, My Lord,” she sniffled.
“Why can’t you?”
She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. How could she tell him how he frightened her? How the slightest glance from him brought terror and arousal in one crushing wave. It was too humiliating and shameful to admit. “I just…I mean…you…”
“Are you afraid of me, Sascha?” He asked this question so matter-of-factly that she nodded before she could stop herself. She blushed deeply and he chuckled. “Put your mind at ease, girl. I promise that it’s not my intention to hurt you.”
They sat on the chaise for several minutes, neither one speaking. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the storm raging beyond the walls. Finally, Sascha stared up at her new Master and realized the absurdity of their situation. “My Lord?”
“What?” She looked up at him, clearly confused.
“My name. Cianan. Anyone who awakens me in the middle of the night should call me by my given name.” He smiled warmly then tensed again. “But only here.”
Sascha nodded. “Cianan,” she began, her voice still trembling. “Why are you suddenly being so kind to me?”
“You thought me unkind before?” She could only stare at him. “Perhaps I can be a little rough around the edges,” he admitted. “I never meant to be unkind. I beg your pardon if it seemed so.” She seemed to accept this and their silence resumed. She relaxed into his embrace and he sighed, relieved she wasn’t going to run. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her, committing it to memory. Every breath made him believe in her more and more. She was his mate and he would do everything he could to convince her of that fact. “I can feel more questions burning on your tongue, little one.”
Sascha blushed again. “Well…I was wondering…the library…”
“What about it?” His jaw tensed.
“Might I borrow a book? I like to read,” she asked nervously. She kept her eyes trained on the flames before her, not wanting to see any anger on his face. “And I noticed you had a beautiful library.”
“As I’ve told you, you may go anywhere within the castle grounds you like…”
“Except for the cellar,” she finished. “But why not there?” This was the real question that burned on her tongue. The greatest mystery that had grown in her mind.
“It is none of your affair,” he answered stiffly, moving her carefully aside and standing by the fireplace. “It’s my place and you are never to enter. Do you understand?” His eyes flashed with a sudden fury and Sascha cowered.
“Of course, My Lord,” she replied, her eyes cast downward. “I will respect your wishes.”
He looked down at her, trying to smile reassuringly. “Of course you will.” The clock on the other side of the room struck the hour and Sascha yawned. “We should get you into bed lest you be exhausted in the morning.”
“And what should I expect in the morning?” she asked, allowing him to help her to her feet and lead her toward the bed. “Shall I report to the kitchens or the stables?”
He looked puzzled. “Neither.” He pulled back the covers and gestured for her to climb into the bed.
She obeyed and continued. “Well… I was sent here as your slave. But looking around me and the clothes given for me to wear, I just can’t figure what my duties should be.”
“To do whatever I require,” he answered simply, tucking the coverlet around her body. “And right now I require that you sleep.” He turned to leave, but was stopped with her hand on his arm.
“Couldn’t you just stay with me, My Lord?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Of course not. It wouldn’t be appropriate…”
“Please,” she pleaded. “Just until I’ve gone to sleep.” Her eyes looked past him to the window where the wind and rain still pounded at the stone walls. “Storms frighten me so.”
He sighed, defeated by her eyes again. He looked around and pulled a chair from the other side of the room to her bedside and sat down. “It seems that of the two of us, I am more slave to you.”