WRITERS WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FUED

With the release of their erotica novel STEEL EMBRACE pending this month, we have handed our weekly blog over to Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane, writers published with Carnal Passion. Today they are sharing a short story and excerpt from STEEL EMBRACE ~ Angelica and Zi


THE BURN OF HER IS WILD

He sat at his keyboard enveloped by the morning sun. Love itched at his fingertips but he knew he was naive to its ways. There were men that haunted women's dreams with endless thoughts of tawdry moments. He was a man who would never be doing that. There were men on hot sweltering days who'd strip to their waist and just their sight would make women melt. Men that would gesture with a come-see-me finger and women would instinctually know what they needed.

Was this all too unfair? No! Love comes in different packages and his was wrapped not in the fancy trappings of muscles or square chins but with honest sincerity.

Champions can slay the dragon or collect their damsel and ride off into some amber sunset but was that love? Exciting -- yes -- but love probably not. Heroes can let their ladies hide in their shirt pockets protected from the torment of danger. Love? The act alone is not.

He knew life had shown him that his heart was a piñata. Beaten and broken. Why? Men were taught to be distant and aloof but Tally was schooled by an older sister to be fair and forthright. Had the sister failed him? She certainly made his relating oft time more difficult.

He knew the tones and textures of love. His sister modeled that quite well. But she was unable to teach him to be narcissist, as were men who attracted females. Tally refused to be dishonest with his core values and as the cliché went, wore his feelings on his sleeve.

Tally sat at his computer to write to the women to whom he felt his heart swoon. Did she want a man of machismo? Maybe. Did she want to be lost in huge arms? There was a possibility. So then what did Tally have to give to make her feel faint, aflutter?

He was about to win her with his words. Steely blue eyes were mesmerizing but the penned ideas of crave could be as thrilling. Huge hands and grand strength may foreshadow a virility but the ardor of the human soul can move the conscience of the world. Strength atrophies but true power retains it fortitude. A man's love grows stronger over time. Muscles wither.

Tally knew he was in love. Had been dating Sunshine for months. Yes, they were intimate but Tally found that he was shy knowing she had been quite sexually active before him. Had this intimidated him? No. Love and feelings were ugly step-sisters if not respected. He knew he needed to touch her soul not her tit, yet he understood that the human search for rapture oft required a good titty-torture or two. Any crafty man could bring physical orgasm and he had done that many times for her but his need was far deeper. Tally had to make her feel the honesty of his yearning spirit and how she had gripped it, molded it, and owned it.

The tink and tap of the keyboard began his e-mail:


Sweetie-pet… m’Sunny-pie:

Morning. It is screaming to me -- today will be a nice day. The coffee is done. The background din is sports talk radio. My thoughts are with you. I hope this finds you well.

Optimism -- my gift -- of me -- to you.

I see you in shades of great
Wisps of yeses
Bubbling as endless perfection
Truth no guesses

The burn of her is wild
Thoughts so raw
Yet, she is at a distance
And I in awe.
Tal

m’Dear, you without question are my quintessential statement of beauty -- we each have one --and if I were to become an artist -- blessed with the gift of transforming my deepest ideals of beauty onto the canvas -- the portrait of my crave would forever be you. Every rainfall would appear as you. Every field of wildflowers would be you. Portrait after portrait of you -- you --.

Since I have reached the age of reason I have identified and felt that I am an optimist.

Many of the great quotes about optimism take a disrespecting shot at it. Maureen Dowd wrote, “Perpetual optimism is annoying. It is a sign that you are not paying attention.” Wrong! Optimists are not shortsighted but in contrary I feel that they may be visionaries with a better twist. Perception is reality and we each have a responsibility to manage our reality, so if given a choice -- choose the brighter side of life. (Thank you Monty)

I sense that I know things about you that you may not know. Things that most don't. Why? I have stopped and taken the time to see you. I feel privileged because others see another woman, pigeonhole her via their bias, and I think shame on them. You are so gosh darn wonderful. I watch as you feed your cousin's baby and see that you are blessed with a humanity that embarrasses me. Last week you cleaned my dog's ears. So giving of an act. The greater world just takes you for granted. I feel selfish in that I don't and that makes me feel good about myself. You are the tonic of all happiness. The masses just need to stop, know you, and everyone will radiated with joy.

There is a sun and it shines brightly within you
And I am so blessed to have seen it
There is a sun and it shines brightly within you
I long and hope to be warmed deeply by it
Tal

Kin Hubbard wrote, “An optimist is a fellow who believes what’s going to be will be postponed.” This is an example of the negative thoughts of a pessimist at its root. I could never imagine ever having my feelings for you delayed. They are real and now -- now --

The glory of every moment
Are ours to know
And possibly share --
‘Tis the sharing
That is where the glory is found.
Tal

Don Marquis wrote, “-- an optimist is a guy what has never had much experience --” I differ with Marquis -- in that I do believe that an optimist may have had great experience and sees the greater possibilities.

I strongly believe an optimist is a person who has matured to the place where they can see life as a true gift -- an opportunity -- each and every day. You are my opportunity. And yes, I hope I am seen as yours.

The quote that makes me feel stronger comes from Colin Powell when he said, “Perpetual optimism is a force multiplier.” I understand this and believe it to be true. See good and there it is radiating more good that can be seen as good radiating, ad infinitum.

I glow
‘cause I know
wonderment
and life’s astonishment
I see them
Dancing
Gently in you.
Tal

Laurence J. Peter once wrote, “A pessimist is a man who looks both ways before crossing a one-way street.” No way -- I do this -- Laurence J -- you’d be wrong -- I think this is a wise and wonderful way to lead your life -- uplifting in that you have a vision in how you should/could/would protect yourself -- more positive than negative. We need to think of our safety as children and insist on holding its hand crossing every street. So protect that for which you care. Sunshine, I care for you.

Another example of the “negativization” of the world can be found in the old saying, “A pessimist is just a well-informed optimist.” Wow! Cynic alert -- duck -- that quacks me up!

Here is an old story to define the difference between the pessimist and optimist. A man went to heaven and was in purgatory -- why -- because he was. While there he was being toured through the possibilities of the different afterlives. The second Wednesday of the third week of November was the demonstration of pessimism v. optimism. The recently deceased was shown a room where a man was sitting on a pile of horse manure. Cool? When the door opened the man began to complain, “Why -- why have put me in here -- why!” The man was told afterwards that was an example of a pessimist -- and that the next door would reveal an optimist. When the door opened there was a man rooting about -- digging frantically in a similar pile of horse manure. He was a mess. He was heard to say, “I know there is a horse somewhere in here!” That is an optimist. So every time I think of you, I channel that optimistic spirit saying, "I know there is a future with my Sunshine."

The word is optimist. An Optimist is a noun that could be simply defined as a hope-fiend. I am a hope-fiend -- I believe in the glass half-full -- and I am proud I do so.

May your spring flowers be as beautiful as is your spirit for life.
May your fall mums be as stunning as the glow in your eyes.
Tal

I got stuff to do -- I am gone -- but before I go -- I shall tease naughty.

Today be my sunshine -- My Sunnyshine.

The winter has told me one thing
A message with a loud ring
Cold is not as good as my Sun
She my bask of carnal fun
I want to disrobe in its glow
And fuck god-like and slow
Tal

The naughty continues -- why -- you are my goddess to crave.

Be warmed by desire.
Feel it raw heat and fire
Be my never-ending yearn
So naughty bits can heat and burn
Tal

When we kiss I fall deeper for you. A kiss with you is infinity in motion. Jon Troast wrote, "I can't read lips unless they're touching mine." Continue touching mine, so I might read the tea-leaves of our future.

Passion is pure --
want never naive --
lust apt honest --
and crave my slave.

I wonder what fans
the embers of want in Sunny --
what would bring a gently purr.

I hold her face
in the palms of my hands --
her gentle blue eyes fill mine --
and the want of more -- soars.
Tal

The apple’s nectar of each fall
The luscious peach of each summer
The tint of pine in the winter’s air
And the perfume of our springs
Cannot come close to m’Sunshine
She awes all of the precious gifts
That nature provides our sweet planet
Tal

Tal is my nom du plume when I write poetry -- an alter ego -- maybe -- but I think of him as being a mask, whereas I can hide to write words I might not normally say or even acknowledge that I might feel.

Send me a kiss floating on air
And one from me will greet it there

The gentle clash of that tender expression
Will be a forever lasting impression

Our kiss will cause all to stop and look
At the tender direction our caring took

They humbled by its primal and pure love
Shared -- shared -- shared -- dove to dove
Tal

I do apologize if in any way my expression of awe in you makes you uncomfortable -- the message I want you to feel is to be desired -- rawly desired -- primal -- base.

Every cup in my life is not half full -- but full -- every B-cup -- C-cup -- D-cup -- I type with a smile -- knowing that you are double dee-lightful.

The day has turned out to be wonderful -- spent partly with you. The coffee has become water -- bottled water. The room is quiet. My thoughts are with you -- I hope this stills finds you well.

My brief moment of philosophy -- Happiness is like a kiss -- better if shared.

My humorous moment -- What’s the difference between roast beef and pea soup -- anyone can roast beef.

I have sat and wondered -- what does Sunshine want?

It is often difficult to know -- if I believe she is interested in the polite man and the naughty boy that dwells within when unleashed -- if I think she is wild and wants raw passion then the gentleman and the gentle man are never cherished -- the boggle -- the boggle that has haunted men trying to date throughout time -- the duality of man is simple -- they are good -- and bad.

When I look into her eyes do I tell her she draws me to her soul -- or do I whisper, I want to bite your neck until your clit pulses with want -- the struggle. The raw man wants to feel free -- yet, the respectful man does not wish to be crude. In the future to please you I will respectfully bite.

When I saw your photo I felt wonderful -- but I didn't say that I was pulled to the raw sexuality I saw -- I was polite -- and with polite also comes the handle of boring. I should have told you that you stir-stir my passion or did you already know?

I have a fervor that burns brighter than most -- I love the female form -- I adore her soul -- her spirit -- and her innate gifts. Where is the line? When I was younger it was easy -- as I’ve aged it has shifted. Some ladies love to be craved -- the love the raw desire that I can share -- others find it boorish and rude. My boggle is I have to instinctually know your needs. So trial and error and may my errors be few.

I wink -- smile -- and wonder.

The gentle man might write:

Does the rose of your cheeks tell the story
It might

Depending where the rose is
Might I
Be the source of the rosing
Tal

My poetry was sweet yet suggestive -- have I over-stepped a line? Dare I over-step , again.

The roll of our naked skin upon the other
The gentle dance upon the night’s bed
Is a dream that I wake with each night
I wish and wish that it was forever's waltz
Tal

The pure draw of closeness wrapped in the want of sexual pleasure is something man and women have shared -- but how do they -- overtly -- or subtly?

A kiss upon your left nip
A hug of your butt cheeks
A query about oral sex
Do you dream my dreams?
Tal

I wonder what does she desire -- what are the lines -- what will please her -- for her pleasure is important to the man that is me.

Thanks for reading -- the man I am understands -- he is contrite -- and honest.

I owe you much -- let me try to balance the scales. Mistakes are the providence of the simple gift that we are human. I have spent my life embracing mistakes as glorious gifts that define my possibilities.

To continue with this point, Elbert Hubbard wrote, “To make mistakes is human, but to profit by them divine.” Elbert and I think much alike.

I want to apologize for my actions in the past. If in any way I hurt you, I am sorry. I was wrong in my choices. You deserved far more then I granted you. Yet, if all was as you wanted -- yea!

Forgive me. Forgive me not. Give me a lot. Oops! Naughty segue.

My grandma who was the anti-dearth of old sayings comes to mind -- she might have said, “To forgive divine.” Please be so divine. I see a charming humanity in you -- I hope you hug my sincerity -- kiss my soul -- and forgive me.

La Rochefoucauld wrote, “We forgive to the extent that we love.” An interesting thought. Our capacity to forgive has a relationship with our ability to love -- I think that places me in wonderful hands -- I see a lady who cares -- I see the strength within her to forgive me -- I hope she sees enough value in me to grant me that gift.

With every sense of resolve I ask -- please, see that I am sorry -- I know this is a certainty -- I long for you to feel that truth.

Another old saying from my Grandma, “Repentant tears wash out the stain of guilt.” I understand what she meant. But I think it is deeper. If the repentant person is truly sincere, the asking for forgiveness is not the wash but the granting of it. Does this clear their soul. No. The sincerity speaks to one very important thing. They meant it. They felt the truth and meant it.

Sense that I have bowed my eyes to you -- repenting -- asking for your forgiveness -- hoping your heart embraces my honesty -- Jesus said in Luke, “-- and if he repents, forgive him,” A wonderful Christian philosophy -- guaranteed absolution -- real life is not that way -- please, see that I am without equal, sorry.

The ancient philosophy, Midrash wrote, “The gates of repentance are always open.” I hope yours are. I hope you can take my hand. Share my eyes. Sense the ache of my soul. And show the remarkable compassion I sense within you. Forgive me.

Please.

Tally Wacker III


He hit send.

The tone of his e-mail depicted the challenge that was omnipresent within his life. He never felt worthy enough to be loved. And so that weakness kept him at arm's length from a long term relationship.

Women want and deserve a strong man. Tally was bright, knew his heart but never understood the resolve needed to attract. Did he love her? Yes. And this e-mail scared her away. Would it have done that to you?

People tend to repeat the same patterns and Tally did. Years passed and he never connected.

Presently, Tally is on death row. Why? He killed his sister. Been denied computer privileges.


EXCERPTS FROM STEEL EMBRACE

The Master stared down at his thrall, withering on the bed, eyes pleading. Were her eyes beseeching his protection, control, or was it just for sexual release? She understood his keen glare. Being a thrall, a slave, was her lifestyle.
Though she excited him, he remained stoic; this was his way. Kneeling on the mattress before her, he toyed with the possibilities as he watched her inviting buttocks from this vantage point. His silence haunting.
The dark pall ripened when she heard a whack. She understood the purpose of the sound was to excite her. Every female beast when courting sexual pleasure presented their gift. Shanna pushed her ass out and swayed it, asking for his attention.
He brought with him his slapper, a heavy leather tool oft used for striking the ass, its design created a smacking sound as the split leather would spread and close. He was amused with the idea of using the handled end to moisten her access, but chose to lean over placing his teeth on her fleshy derriere and bit down a little harder than would be comfortable, bringing a reaction.

ABOUT AUTHORS

Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane are with Carnal Passion and also write as Angelica Hart and Zi as well as Dona Pena Tattle, Esq. and Associate Wrye Balderdash who are with Champagne Books and have a number of titles.

Their combined accomplishments include book publications in print and/or electronic versions of thirty-seven titles, twenty plus romance specific, EPPIE finalist for three books, Cecil Whig award, Hob-Nob Reader's Choice Award, Champagne Books Novel of the Year Nominee, Champagne Books Author of the Year Nominee. Plus, they have written over 500 shorts with numerous published in both nationwide and small press magazines, articles published in various local, city and statewide newspapers, including four as a Guest Columnist in addition to trade articles. Both are members of various writing groups

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.


Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
STEEL EMBRACE http://www.carnalpassions.com/

Angelica Hart and Zi
KILLER DOLLS ~ SNAKE DANCE ~ CHASING YESTERDAY
www.champagnebooks.com

THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com

TheWritersVineyard.com (monthly piece)
www.champagnebooks.blogspot.com(monthly piece)
Dawn's Reading Nook (Thursday's piece)
lovesbooksandmore.blogspot.com/