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I've been away for a while

Posted on 2013.01.05 at 22:22
About me: I express my opinions and tastes here and talk about my writing. I'm not looking to offend anyone, but I warn you that might happen. I come across as overly critical and argumentative when I just think I'm being engaging and delightful. Oh, and I like it when men are attracted to each other (Slash!). If you don't mind me, I don't mind your reading. If you must comment, be nice. If you must criticize, make an effort to do so without being hateful or ugly. Friends welcomed. Haters will be deleted from my world. If I've said something hurtful, just explain it to me instead of being bitchy. Not that that's ever happened before. Now, lets take our coffee onto the balcony and talk books.

This is Garett Maggart who will be reprising his role as Dr. Joe McKay in D. L. Warner's and Jon Cunningham's Demon Under Glass web production. I hope I did the credits right. I have not yet asked for permission to use this pic (from the DUG site: http://www.dragoncor.com/demon.htm) because I recently bombarded Mrs. Warner with gushing sentiments of admiration and I'm afraid she'll think I'm stalking her if I contact her again too soon.

My god, he's aged well. See his "The Sentinal" days in the post below. Notice the family resemblance to his beautiful sister, Fiona Apple. You know, he really seems like a great sport when it comes to the whole slash-fandom thing. At least, that's what I gather from Mrs. Warner's teasing and deliberately vague comments which indicate he's well aware that he and his male co-star, might "do it" and humorously accepts the need for lube and condoms, though he may not be crazy about being a 'bottom,' (which I'm totaly rooting for). I'm paraphrazing from Warner's blog here, which I'm not linking to because it seems really peaceful over there, just the way she wants it (I'm assuming).


Posted on 2012.05.01 at 17:38
Tags: , , , ,

I think they did it for their fangirls and boys. I love it. Thanks, guys.



Posted on 2012.03.03 at 11:14



I don't write pornography and I don't write erotica. Nothing against them. But taste-wise, one is too unchallenging to keep me awake and the other is too bland (which is too challenging to keep me awake). What I do, is look for the struggle between the body and the mind when sex is at its most complicated, and I write about that emotional, mental struggle. Certain characters lend themselves to this. It's like trying to capture that convulsive, involuntary moment during sex and just before the stimulus becomes more than what is bearable and more than what is pleasurable, then weaving that throughout the length of a novel.

It's taken a long time to figure out why I need Sonny to suffer as exquisitely as he does (or Joe McKay or Blair Sandburg, etc.) I'm on a Garret Maggart kick, thanks to D.L. Warner (no, really. Thank you!) I live in my mind and it demands more than the physical and social arenas can give. More than any temporary relief. It demands a fight. Friction and force. 'Wrestling with an angel,' is the phrase that comes to mind. Conflict where the prize is worth more than anything found on earth - and only the mind can do that. Pornography has no such ambition, which is fine sometimes. And erotica (she says sarcastically) seems too timid to meet eye to eye with that violent, involuntary, convulsive...moment, to investigate it and see what it's really made of. I've never found out what it's made of (and my sex scenes still need work) but I did find out where my characters come from. They come from a sexuality that takes a sweeping observation of life, the world, relationships of all kinds and concludes, "That's not enough, I want more." So I make it up.

This is why I have a character who's masculine identity conceals a feminine core. What better way to render him helpless than to force him to feel a woman's climax? (After all, I'm a man in a woman's body so I only know what female orgasms feel like and I don't think men can handle them. Just joking! - no, I'm not.) Okay, the guy in me is joking and the female is dead serious.

In a society, apparently, dominated by what men think is great entertainment, their "hit it and quit it" preference for damsels in distress (look at the books, movies, fairy tales, book covers, posters, from beginning to today, an ocean of women in tears and torn dresses, terrorized, abused, stalked...) or, women of such mythological strength and dominance (all packaged in your choice of shiny black rubber or classic nude) that they might as well be gorgeous men with breasts and vaginas, how else can I give into my sweet tooth for a male who is thrown into danger, dominated and ravished every bit as thoroughly as any damsel - but by another man - without compromising the handsome quality of his masculine appeal? (No, prison movies just don't get it. And before you judge me - you know who you are - I can tell the difference between fantasy and reality just fine, and am not wishing harm on anyone. So take a step back!) Well, I never found a great answer to that, but I'm still working on it.

I know, that paragraph has more problems than a... than something that has lots of problems.

This all reminds me of Garret Maggart (wow, two last names) and his wonderful contribution to the Fangirl Foundation Sugarbowl Fundraiser(I'm 42), which is badly in need of quality contributions, as seen here. Reconvene in 15 minutes. Sentinel fans, talk amongst yourselves. You've already seen this.

And this:
ANGEL (That kiss near the end looks premeditated on Richard's part and quite real)

And this:

Thank you Garret Maggart, Richard Burgi, Alfnrns, CelestialMoonDragon, Quantum861 and Youtube for those lovely, slashy contributions, which I would pay good money to see in the form of a serious movie (shout out to all you movie and entertainment investors!).

Which brings me to my next point. I came up with a character who comes close to the one I'm interested in, but I had to build an entire world and premise around him to pull it off. No apologies. Years after the fact, I'm still inspired by Sonny. I didn't think I would be. But that's the thing about books and fiction, mental dramatic intimacy vs. graphic intimacy, and mundane heroes vs. fearsome angels. One sits on the surface for but a moment, subject to be replaced by the next stimulus, while the other sinks like rain into soil, deep into the interior of the psyche, becoming a perpetual stimulus and achieving reality that no physical thing can compete with because the characters fill my mornings, afternoons, and nights (shout out to Tally!) long after I've closed the books and no matter who I'm with or who's talking to me. Yes, it's that good. Heaven. And I'm supposed to give this up for a so-called "normal" existence? Normal, by whose standards? Fuck that. If you should be so lucky as to find a sliver of bliss in this world - that isn't hurting anyone - just go with it.

This chat was inspired by:
Time off work,
Demon Under Glass (novel)
D. L. Warner
Garret Maggart (as Joe McKay and Blair Sandburg)
Jason Carter (as Molinar)
Richard Burgi
Sonny Preyer (my baby)
Every great character I have ever come across, who cannot possibly exist in real life, and therefore cannot be limited by it.

- The Sonny Preyer Chronicles

Book: Demon Spawn, On the Run by D.L. Warner

This book has a disclaimer written by D.L.'s husband, Jon Cunningham. At first this confused me. Why would a book need a disclaimer? As soon as I got to the first page, I saw why. As a fan of Mrs. Warner, I paid for one style, one genius, and got something else. Oh to be sure, she delivered in the end, but I almost didn't get to the end.

I gave this book five stars based on its last thirty-five pages alone. D.L Warner's part. I found it mind-boggling that D.L. seems to have so little regard for her unique writing "voice" in this story that she would entrust others to write it for her. Considering how wonderful her talent is, that's just crazy. Fan-fic can be awesome, but next to the meat and potatoes of real writing... not so much this time. It's her Joe and her Molinar that I fell in love with. You don't get that in these other stories. You don't get anything remotely close to the strength of her unadorned narrative, the implicit attraction shown through action, and all that great sexual tension between the lines of convincing masculine men. My god, it's disappointing. But D.L. Warner delivers in the end. The very end.

I've read the last 35 pages over and over again, just trying to hang on to the thrill of Molinar's desire for Joe. And in many ways, this last chapter by D.L. more than makes up for the other styles. I don't want to give anything away, but I love the path that she puts these men on, how she makes it all look so reasonable. With Molinar and Joe on the run, they have no choice but to grow dependent on each other to survive. But it's not a gritty, miserable survival. It's full of warmth, wealth, technical savvy, and options for a new life, all balancing on Joe's decent into psychological shock as he lets Molinar take the lead. Joe really has to adjust, and D.L. shows him trying as other characters, such as Ethan, react strongly in response to Joe's delima. (I got such a kick outa that! "Jesus, Joe...") It's as if Joe, pushing himself to stay functional, doesn't realize he's close to a nervous breakdown. His life has been yanked from under his feet, with only Molinar's vital resources to save him. Things brighten for him, but he's realistically conflicted right to the last page. It stays with you.

I'm not a fan of romance (unless it's hard and strong like this story), but when I read Molinar saying of the necklace he ripped from Joe's neck in the first novel, "I took it [the caduceus necklace] because I couldn't take you with me," my heart nearly came out of my chest. Sure, Molinar's still a murdering bastard who gets off on playing rough, but he's downright charming when it comes to Joe. Until he gets jealous or horny, then the darker side looms. Love it! There is more intensity in these few pages than in most of the full-length novels I've read. It's a damn shame that D.L. Warner hasn't given us a full-length sequel.

So, the book is WORTH buying and treasuring, but only because of the last amazing 35 pages of Mrs. Warner's genius.
Side note, she did get a little lazy on the sex scenes, but I can live with it. More please.

Between the movie and the book, I ache for more. The Doctor/Vampire relationship (I absolutely do not have a thing for vampires. I hate vampires! But this one rocks!!) has me scouring the web for any sign of more from D.L. Warner and her husband, Jon Cunningham. And that's after 3 years of first having read the book.

It DOESN'T MATTER that the quality of the movie suffers from the low budget. After you read the book and see the movie and really understand what's been accomplished through a good script, excellent acting, and the chemistry of the main characters, "Joe" and "Molinar" (Garett Maggartt and Jason Carter), you see that it is a treasure worth keeping. I'm so glad that the novel-turned-movie was taken seriously and not camped up too much, stylized, or deemed "quirky". The story paints a serious world of unethical research, government-type cover ups, and an innocent, compassionate doctor caught in the middle. This is done convincingly and detailed in amazingly very few pages! (way too short, but a testament to the gravity and power of the story).

The movie tries to follow the novel, but understandably cannot go the distance. I only regret that the dream sequence was more clearly indicated as such, and that the ending could've played out true to the novel. (The things Molinar says to Joe, to assure him that he's not really going to hurt him during his escape, are hot as hell.) And it's even more intense that Joe doesn't even realize how badly the vampire wants him and exactly what his intentions are. (I love "the chase", the one character not giving it up too easily to the other.) It made me wonder at the reason for leaving certain gay content out, when clearly the team was professional, danced awfully close to the gay theme, arriving short of being too obvious, but not obvious enough in my opinion. I mean finally, a suspenseful, psychological, dramatic work of fiction (in spite of the blood) that has two men - who can be taken seriously - bound in a complicated attraction that doesn't disappoint with predictable, disposable sex, but continues to pull the sexual tension taut well after the last page. It's the best kind of sex - Molinar's violent desire for Joe, Joe keeping his distance. Hot hot hot! And it does go on to deliver the goods, but that's another novel. *cough* (D.L. Please write more! You have the makings of something great.)

All of the actors were perfect. I was especially impressed with the lady cop as well as the scientists. Taken in its entirety, this is a very special project (movie and book should be experienced together by M/M lovers) and worth so much more than what I paid for it, in terms of what one looks for in a fulfilling novel/movie experience.
Thank you thank you thank you, D.L. and Jon! After 3 years, I still hurt for more.


Gone Writing

Posted on 2010.02.05 at 20:31
Still here. Sorry I've lost contact with most everyone, but I need to be writing now, so that's what I'm doing. Those who've extended their friendship over the years, I do think of you, miss the fun, and hope your writing is going well also.

Hugs to all,


Elrond altered2

Tag! fic: One More Second

Posted on 2006.03.10 at 21:57
Current Mood: calmcalm
Rated PG for language and implications.

Cassie, I'm sorry, I wanted this to be really sweet, but I couldn't find a picture that inspires RPS sweetness, only hot, wanton lust. I've been told it's brutal. I'll do better next time.

One More Second.

It doesn’t surprise Viggo, to find the kid blocking his way.

What are you trying to prove, Elijah? No, don’t even talk to me. I don’t like seeing you this way, and you know it. Those clothes aren’t you, all silk and leather like that. Where’s your jeans? Close your shirt.

I already know that you’re just doing this to get back at me, to show me what I could’ve had. I’ve played this game a million times, buddy, I know how it works. You’re still a freakin’ kid, and the harder you try to show me you’re a grown man, the more obvious it is that you’re not.

So you’re still pissed about the other night, is that it? Is that why you’re waiting up, in the house rented for this god-for-saken movie that I was crazy enough to agree to? Crazy enough to get you for a roommate, anyways.

I’m too old for this shit. If I didn’t learn my lesson on the Rings set, I never will. Yeah, you’re fuckin’ beautiful, and yeah, I’m staring, so what.

I know you hate me now, after that slap. Hell, I’m counting on it. Be glad that’s all I did to you. Somebody had to take responsibility. I saved your ass last night, Mr. You didn't have as much fun at the party as you thought you’d have, did you?

You’re too young to go rubbing up against the most convenient guy in the room, I don’t care what you’re rubbing to get away from. You’ve got your problems, fine, but you’re not gonna solve them with that hot little ass, and you’re not going to flaunt it to whoever’s interested. Not in front of me, kiddo. I don’t care how much you flash those eyes.

Maybe you are more than legal now. Maybe you did give me a stiff one when you caught me alone in the kitchen. And maybe I want to slam you against wall right now, and teach you never to look at me with eyes like that, unless you’re ready to back it up, Mr. I’m-all-grown-up!

Step aside, princess. I need a cigarette.

I got a kid, and I damn sure would hope that someone out there was kind enough to put one upside his head, if he EVER threw himself at an old geezer like me.

Oh. you’re going to be a smart-ass and follow me to my room. You wonder why I don’t have anything to say to you? You wonder? I feel a headache coming on, and you would be safer if you’d just leave me to it. But no, you gotta stand in my doorway, and let me have one last look. I can already feel the muscles of your neck trapped between my teeth, and I just want to suck on your skin until...

Don’t give me the chance, Elijah. Don’t give me another second. Go. I can’t always be responsible. I can’t always be a decent person, lord knows.

You’re still standing there, like you know what you want. I’m sure that you don’t, but in one more second, that won’t matter. Then you really will hate me.

One more second, Elijah.


Oh Cassie, Oh Cassie,
I was going for sweet,
but this fic got away from me,
and I suffered defeat.

Of this little tale,
I am the proud owner,
but I knew something was wrong
the minute Viggo got a boner.

I'm sure you've guessed,
why I've mentioned your name.
I'm hoping you have a pic,
and will join in this game.
I challenge Cassie to write the next pic-fic. :-)

Elrond altered2

Tag fic: Angelic Assassin

Posted on 2006.03.03 at 23:32
Current Mood: sleepybut pleasantly so

Angelic Assassin

For a long while, the two brothers said naught, but stared in silence up at the stars. The battle was over, and their bodies lay heavy with exhaustion.

Elrohir could hold it in no longer. “Brother, we have seen the Angel of Death. It is purported to be a black thing that paralyzes the heart of its prey before striking. It is said to be more hideous than the decay left to eat one’s empty shell. But that is a lie."

For some reason, that lie made him angry.

"Today in battle, Death picked our enemies off, one by one. And he was more fair than the daylight itself. Those who looked into his eyes before falling, were indeed gripped by the savage truth; their deadliest foe is a thing of beauty, and not the beast they were expecting. Some of the mightiest warriors, be they enemy or no, perished today, because they stared at him for one second too long."

Beside him, Elladan stirred. “Yes, Elrohir, but those are the lucky ones. So swift is his blade, I almost feel sorry for the ones that die before they can look upon their assassin. Those go with naught, into the darkness.”

Struck by the truth of it, Elrohir silently agreed. In his heart, he wondered where the Prince of Mirkwood was resting his head tonight, and when, perchance, they would meet again.


Oh Elfscribe, Oh Elfscribe,
I hope you are well.
Sift through your pics,
and see what they tell.
I challenge Elfscribe to write the next pic-fic. :-)




Posted on 2006.01.07 at 21:18
( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )


Waiting For You

Posted on 2005.12.10 at 14:14
Title: Waiting For You (Story B)
Author: Catharsis
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Raiting: Light Slash
Warning: A character transcends life. If you don't look at death as final, you'll be okay.

Disclaimer: just dreaming. Tolkien’s work remains sacred and unscathed.

Summary: The King makes a choice. Frodo is there for him.

Note: This is one of two brief stories, in answer to Anoriell's wonderful challenge.
I loved this experience, and found it soothing in a time of trouble. Thank you, Sun-star. Enjoy.


King Elessar. Aragorn. You have called to me. But even as I draw near your bed, your eyes do not see me standing alongside your wife. Your breath rattles, and you do not feel me take your hand.

I see the Queen has not reconciled herself to your decision. She shall not, I’m certain. I want to calm the storm which pits her grace against your resolve, and leaves lovely fragments heaped upon your chest. Only when I lay my other hand upon her hair, its color reminding me of the Outer Darkness beyond this world, does she seem to calm. She appears to cherish the continued rise and fall of your chest.

I watch the light in your eyes spark and flicker, keen for a moment. It’s taken a number of days for your life to loosen its hold upon your body, to slip free, for you laid yourself down, strong and hail in the certainty of your choice. Majestic province lay down with you, in the autumn of your long life. Your wish is granted, to depart while your mind is whole, your valour steadfast, and your heart glad.

I left this world before you, dear King. And now I wait.

From my home across the sea, I laid myself down to sleep, on a day unrivaled in its beauty. I too was glad to go. I felt safe at last, and ready. Of all my friends, all my kin, and all that for which I am thankful, my parting vision was of you.

You, who lowered yourself to bended knee before me. You, who pledged your fate to me. You, who wielded your sword on my behalf. You vowed to keep me safe, and to follow me through any shadow. I soon lost my fear of the grave purpose, etched rough and deep, into your ranger’s face, and beheld a quality that would not let me look away. You served the good of All. Yet I succumbed to the lure that it was for me alone. And now that I am recalled to you, by the pull of your very own summons, tells me that I am not altogether wrong. I wait.

Your queen’s grief gives way to sleep, and only then do you turn your head slowly, to notice me. I watch as your vision adjusts to me. Your smile spreads behind the brown and gray of your beard, and your eyelids droop as if waking from a peaceful slumber. The Mannish features that once alarmed and fascinated me, are now handsome beyond compare.

“Frodo. You’ve come back.”

Your whisper is like the wind on the sea to me. It makes me smile.

“No Aragorn. I have not returned; it is you who have left. You walked with me through shadow. I come now, to do the least for you.”

You squeeze my hand, and I know that you are ready.



His Return

Posted on 2005.11.11 at 21:01

This was a fic challenge/request.

Title: His Return
Author: Catharsis
Pairing: ‘Estel’ Aragorn/Elladan
Rating: pg13 (light slash)
Summary: A hero has a hero of his own.

Disclaimer: Tolkien is the true genius. I just showed up to play.

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The Realm

Posted on 2005.02.26 at 21:45

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All text pertaining to this story is copyright protected. Copyright 2002 Bridgette Hayden

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Posted on 2005.02.26 at 21:28

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Posted on 2005.02.26 at 21:19
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All text pertaining to this story is copyright protected. Copyright 2002 Bridgette Hayden

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Go to Chapter Six

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Posted on 2005.02.26 at 20:25

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Chapter Four

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Go to Chapter Five
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