THOU STRONG SEDUCER, OPPORTUNITY
Angelica Hart and Zi
As the writing tandem of Angelica Hart and Zi we confront the omnipresent obstacle of credibly selling seduction. The action of the artful lure of lust and love is and can be difficult. The line of demarcation between sensuality and erotica is hazy. The following is a piece from our manuscript in progress, It May Be Love. The writer of the e-mail was a man wanting to seduce, his heart was pure, his motivation honest, yet were his techniques apt, effective, or foolish?
Morning. The world of weather appears to have given wonderful, at first, it a light gentle rain. Not so wonderful later, so I read until I sat to write to you. The coffee is being shared alone, wish I had a smile to share with it, yours. The room is silent but for the ticky-tack of my keyboard, ticky-tack, sticky keys. The A and S keys. I have been writing steamy stuff lately. Why? My thoughts are with you. I hope this finds you well.
John Dryden wrote, “Thou strong seducer, Opportunity!” John knows seduction, yet, so few see the opportunity before them. I contend that they miss the moment. So few understand seduction, I see it, feel it, but can I create it? The best I can do is try. Kudos Johnnie boy. Your beautiful eyes are my opportunity to dream, no, not John’s but yours, silly!
You are my possibility
My friend to be
You are my possibility
And I am profoundly
“A wise man will make more opportunities then he finds.” was given to us by Francis Bacon, neither a pig nor a women but a man who has a healthy vision on how to challenge life. I am a glass half-full man and see optimism as my greatest quality, maybe my second. You can be the judge one day.
I see sun when it rains
Light in the dark
I feel dawn rushes
I know good
And adore it
Ugly is ignored
For beauty transcends all
I see possibilities.
Pollyannaish? No. Nor cynic. Edward R. Murrow said of optimism, “Someone who tells you to cheer up when things are going his way.” That is the essence of a cynic. I think of you and become showered by the waterfall of possibilities. Drenched in the orange glow of what if.
The ‘iron hot’ strategy from James Howell’s words, “strike while…” is how most look at opportunity. John Clarke wrote, “Make hay while the sun shineth.” Don’t ya just love a word with a –th. Churchill’s spin was, “Make hell while the sun shines.” which supports this narrower view of opportunity. I differ with these men. I see opportunity as a more wonderfully larger thing. Opportunity is boundless, enriched by imagination.
As a child I was told
Have lemons make lemonade
As an adult I say
Have a life… live brightly.
Now, is our chance to discover, to take sojourns to ideas and ideals. The method to facilitate the quest for the self-actualized being is captured in one thought; risk it all. The grand way to find the greater joy our lives can offer; risk it all. A way to grow in oh so many ways… wink-wink!
Sincerity bleaches white
The browns of dishonesty
The you of me is beguiling
The me of you… reconciling
I look at it this way. When it rains cats and dogs; you’ve a new pet or two. I’ve reached that age where I understand and I enjoy the simple things. Life is good, so I just look for it.
The point, yes, I’ll move toward it.
Aristotle puts it simply, “A friend is a second self.” After reading your words I felt a wonderful connect. One I would be foolish to let past without discovery, so you are my opportunity, my possibility, and I sincerely thank you. You are becoming my friend.
I look at you
And see me
I’d like to see your eyes, feel your smile, and discover you.
The afore piece was designed so the man might via his email seduce. When we construct a manuscript and the plot device is seduction we never know if we’ve been successful. Of course we seduce the whomever we intended, we designed it that way, but do we touch the reader. We are writing temptation so we want to tempt. It is the reader whom we ultimately feel we have to move. Enticing allure was the staple of Shakespeare, but required one to be a student of the obscure. We feel it must be both real and overt, universally intriguing, yet precisely perfect for the characters and, yes, we stumble.
Is it innate insecurity on our part? Great query. No! Neither of us are insecure about seduction nor our writing. It is the delicate fabric of it and the diverse nature of it that brings us struggles. One character might find apt fascination with a shy stoic man whereas another craves a virile dominating sort. Translating that and bringing it beauty is our duty to readers. There are no formulas. The plot and essence of the characters created dictate the tools available to us. Our constant boggle is that within our plots do we excite and please the reader. We are inspired to make the seduction believable, maybe the seducer likeable, the tease sexy and personal to the reader, but mostly to bring an honest twitter to anyone who lets our words unfold before them. We want you to believe a shy man a stud, and want you to want him. It is easy to make a stud a stud.
We see love, also beauty in that love, and all that for every person. Naive of us? Not at all.
This is Zi saying that I want you… to read!
On the planet Starling wRen defies her heritage so she can be with VeIper, an outcast bent on freeing his species from ethnic cleansing. Mong, a slayer, quells their ambition as he plots the subjugation of wRen and the death of VeIper.
With lithe movement he followed that scent, in wavy patterns slipping one way then the other catching it at its greatest strength. Coiled, flexed, and slowly rose ever so little as not to be seen, and saw for the first time in his short life something that gave him a shiver to his soul, rattling, and he noticeably trembling. This was not chills of fear, no, but a far different emotion. The full magnitude of this he could not discern but it was there like tiny flickers of fire bursting under his skin.
There captive in his gaze was a female, white and peach toned, similar to others yet nothing at all alike. She stood out against the natural background of color as if apart from it, and yet she somehow was all of it. Her face held an intricate balance of beauty and emotion. It was as if you could see the swirl of them real and raw with no apology for them. Her body held the lushness and enticement of her kind, but the enticement was somehow different. It was as if her curves had been sculptured just for his hands; as if her breasts and buttocks would fit perfectly into his palms; as if her flesh would respond instantly to the trace of his fingertips and as if her lips would curve into his with perfection. Their fingers would entwine naturally, the tender spurt of her pulse would match his
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Angelica Hart and Zi
CHASING...CHASING...CHASING ~ July 2010