Saturday, April 27, 2013

I Would Be Your Slave

“If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave.”
― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Please join me in welcoming I.J. Miller to Exile on Peachtree Street. Miller is the author of five, distinct, literary, erotic works of fiction: SEESAW was translated into two languages, with over 130,000 copies in print; WHIPPED appeared in both English and German; SEX AND LOVE, a collection of short stories, made its debut in the summer of 2011; CLIMBING THE STAIRS, a novella, was released just a year later. His latest novel, WUTHERING NIGHTS, is an erotic retelling of Emily Bronte’s classic, Wuthering Heights, and is published by the Grand Central Publishing imprint of Hatchette Books. It is available now as an e-book and will be in bookstores as a trade paperback and audio book on April 23. Miller has a Master of Fine Arts from the American Film Institute and has taught creative writing and screenwriting at the university level.




The following previously appeared in The Huffington Post, April 23, 2013...

AN EROTIC HISTORY

by I.J. Miller

The year was 1970 B.E.L.J. (Before E.L. James) and I was a freshman in high school. Midnight Cowboy (1969) had just become the only X-rated movie ever to win the Oscar for Best Picture, foreshadowing a decade of sexually bold expression. In literature, there were uninhibited erotic books like The Happy Hooker (1971), Fear of Flying (1973), My Secret Garden (1973), Delta of Venus (posthumously published in 1977) that helped pave the way for the quality sensual writing available today. All of this explicit material sizzled on the page, but, like the films of that era, earned their mainstream success because of their intelligence and good writing.

During the eighties there was a wide gap between what was mainstream and what was underground. Thanks to the writers of the previous decade, if a book was erotic, well-written, and told a good story it would be marketed as a literary book. My first novel, Seesaw (1983), written using my real name, is a graphic recounting of a high school teacher’s dominant/submissive affair with a student, yet it was released with the rest of the hardcovers that winter season, translated into two languages, and reviewed by the L.A. Times, Publisher’s Weekly, and Library Journal.

At the other end was loosely plotted, explicit erotic fiction focused mainly on titillation, usually found in adult bookstores located in the seedy part of town, with mostly men slipping quietly through its side doors. This erotica, similar to some of the material published now, would sometimes have a pseudo-analysis included, written by a so-called psychiatrist, in order to avoid a pornography charge. Can you imagine Dr. Phil checking in at the end of your next erotic read?

In the early nineties I started a family, worked full time to make ends meet, while I labored on the side to write. Despite the financial struggles many experienced during this period’s tenuous economy, the increasing affordability of home VCRs caused the near disappearance of XXX adult theaters, the flourishing of sex videos over books in adult bookstores, and the appearance of bold Main St. rental locations with large X-rated video sections. Mostly men seemed to support this hardcore side, perhaps because they tend to be more visual, or the material was targeted directly at them, or because there were fewer stigmas when a man rented a dirty video.

At the same time, chain bookstores exploded at malls and airports, many with discreet sections called Erotica, housing softcore fiction appealing mostly to women. The annual Best American Erotica (beginning in 1993) and The Mammoth Book of Erotica (1994) are two anthologies that helped inspire the numerous erotic short story collections that are still popular today. Although the female audience for this material widened, I suspect it was limited by the very public walk from the Erotica shelves to the cash register.

The first decade of the twenty-first century seemed almost as conservative as the early sixties. An X-rating for a movie was the kiss-of-death at the box office. Major publishers shied away from mainstreaming explicit sexual material at first, whether it was well-written or not. Then along came Print-On-Demand technology and the explosion of E-books, which opened up vast opportunities with self-publishing and independent presses. The erotica market grew in leaps and bounds. More people could produce sexy books on their own and make them available at a nominal cost. Most significantly, on-line purchasing did for erotic books what VCRs and now Movies-On-Demand did for X-rated videos. It allowed men and women to buy this material discreetly and read it in the privacy of their own homes...although it still seemed to be mostly women filling up their E-readers with erotic stories about hung cowboys and sexy threesomes.

Despite the boom in erotic writing, it wasn’t quite out of the closet. Major publishers developed small erotic imprints, but focused more on other genres. Many traditional and self-published authors used pseudonyms. This material, with its bold, racy covers, whether E-book or not, was rarely reviewed in mainstream periodicals or carried by libraries. The orthodox rabbi of my town had checked my first novel out of the local library in 1984, provocative cover and all. But during this decade the same book wouldn’t even get through the front door.

No one could’ve predicted the 2011 perfect storm known as FIFTY SHADES OF GREY. It started by capitalizing on the independent press/print-on-demand/e-book model then grew through social media marketing and huge word-of-mouth. Author E.L. James fulfilled a classic female fantasy: the wealthy, alpha-male, tragic hero who sweeps a young girl off her feet with inventive dominance. It went against the trend of an explicit cover, opting for one that made the novel easier to review anywhere and read in public. In April, 2012 a mainstream press bought the rights and suddenly it was everywhere. The result: major publishers continue to develop their own erotic imprints, but also scour the internet to sign self-published writers to nourish this feeding frenzy. Now even your aunt is writing erotica and consumers (still mostly women) are buying truckloads of books. All of the attention is attracting a wide range of authors and the quality of some of the writing is at an all-time high.

The Fifty Shades of Grey phenomenon also helped inspire a sub-genre: the erotic mashup...which led to my writing of Wuthering Nights, an erotic retelling of the Emily Bronte classic Wuthering Heights. Heathcliff is surely the original tragic, alpha-male hero and his intense relationship with the fiery Catherine lends itself perfectly to having a few more layers peeled back through sensual lovemaking and creative BDSM.

But perhaps now, thanks to E.L. James, libraries will carry this work, my local newspaper will review it, I can someday soon go back to using my real name, and those who still prefer a paperback won’t feel compelled to buy a greeting card they don’t want in order to cover the erotic novel they’re bringing to the cash register.

You can connect with I.J. at the following links. I promise you won't regret it in the morning.

Website: http://www.ijmiller.com/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Heathcliffian

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ij.miller.5

Goodreads: http://http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4841217.I_J_Miller

I.J. Miller's buy links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Wuthering-Nights-Retelling-Heights-ebook/dp/B00AG0VMWO/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1364924178&sr=8-1

Barnes & Noble: http://http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wuthering-nights-ij-miller/1113763182?ean=9781455573028

Sony: https://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/emily-bronte/wuthering-nights/_/R-400000000000000926349#productCustomerReviews

Thursday, April 25, 2013

#secretproject

#secretproject sitting on something really big--can't wait to tell u more!

— HunterSJones (@HunterSJones101) April 25, 2013">




Friday, April 12, 2013

Someday

Someday, I will wake up and you will not be on my mind.
One day, there will be an entire day when thoughts of you won't distract me from what I should be doing and saying and thinking.
But, that day is not today.

1:07 AM
April 12, 2013

Monday, April 1, 2013

J. Thorn: Meet Hunter S. Jones

J. Thorn: Meet Hunter S. Jones: I found Hunter S. Jones through Twitter. After reading Fables of Reconstruction, I was immediately hooked by her unique blend of myth and...

Thursday, March 21, 2013

A Celtic Tapestry - HOT New Anthology from Moon Rose Publishing



Eight authors, eight Celtic festivals...all woven into one tapestry.
A Celtic Tapestry.
Welcome to the official release of A CELTIC TAPESTRY!



The wheel of the year turns, bringing the joy of spring, the warmth of summer, the richness of autumn, and the merriment of winter. But eight Celtic festivals link these seasons together, bringing with them romance, lust, danger, and even magic. From a city under threat from night-time creatures at Ostara, to a selkie caught by the light of the Lughnasadh moon, to a writer caught in the flames of a fiery goddess at Imbolc.
Eight authors have come together to give their own twist on these festivals, weaving each story with a blend of myth, magic, and contemporary telling…to create A Celtic Tapestry.

 photo ACTfrontcover_zps2ee76d17.jpg

Crimson Beat--Elle J Rossi
In Nashville, Ostara night is filled with monsters...and only one woman can take them on.

Beltane Fires--Livia Ellis
Deep in the Irish countryside, a witch takes over as Mother of her coven. Will a 'wink at the moon' love spell give her what she most wants?

Blade's Magic--Carolyn Wolfe
Midsummer celebrations are going as usual for one magical young woman, until she comes into contact with Max Blade--a man from another dimension.

Shore's Edge--Tara S Wood
Lammas beckons in Ireland in the year 1170, bringing with it war. Will one feisty young woman have to marry the man she hates most, or will the Gods bring her another answer?

The Picnic--Elodie Parkes
The woods near Morgan's home are under threat. But will salvation come for the woods--and himself--in the form of a beautiful environmental officer?

Shadows in the Dark--Miranda Stork
A surprising past life regression opens up a new world for one young woman...but it also throws her at the mercy of an unknown Shadow Man.

Magic in Memphis--Hunter S Jones
Memphis. The favourite place of a hard working public-relations employee, whose life is good, but without surprise...until she has a chance meeting with James Wellington on Yule night, throwing her world upside-down.

Brigid's Flame--Laura DeLuca
A writer, depressed at the turns of his career and losing his relationship with his girlfriend, looks to the Gods for inspiration at Imbolc...and finds the goddess Brigid answers his prayers.

Learn a little more about the magic within the pages...


Buy your copy from






Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Emperor's Daughter's New Clothes - A Political Satire


The Emperor’s Daughter’s New Clothes

A Political Satire

By

Hunter S. Jones

Once upon a time over the mountains and through the valley, in a city by a river there lived an Emperor who had long ago been deposed. His vain, insipid daughter had been appointed to a position in the city, as her father could no longer serve, as deemed by the people. She loved to show herself off to the people and let them say...“Oh she is beautiful.” “Oh she has had a good idea.” “Oh she has done much to help the poor people of this fair city.”

She was so very vain and shallow she believed every word she heard about herself and said, “My people are good. They see my great beauty and believe I will only do the best for them. They are so stupid and ignorant they will never see that I only do what is best for me. They are so very stupid, I will bring up that horrible movie I did years ago. It never made any money. If I make it controversial, they will buy it. I will finally make the money I deserve from it.” And, the Emperor’s daughter thought this was a very good idea.

Being so spoiled and vapid, the Emperor’s daughter began to spend the taxpayer’s money on her own projects. “These are good things” she said. “They are art.” “See this blue albatross? It was only $32,500 but the taxpayer’s money is justified. It is all justified because I want it.” The people are so stupid, they do not know what is good for them, she thought.

As word of her incompetency spread far and wide, the good people of the city begin to complain. “She is wasting our tax money.” “She knows nothing of art.” “She has been in one very bad movie and proclaims that she is an artist.” “She only returned to our fair city because she can’t get a job anywhere else.”

The Emperor’s daughter became even more spoiled and insolent as the years went by. She used money from the taxpayer’s to buy herself a house on the highest hill in the city. She took expensive trips and bought expense clothes. “This is good because I am doing a good job. The city may be losing money and I may be working on my projects on taxpayer’s money but it is good because I am doing what is best for me. If it is best for me, it should be the best for them. The people are ignorant and do not understand how great I am. Once I leave this position, I will take the money and connections that I have made from the taxpayer’s money, get a reality TV show and make even more money. I am so wonderful and so beautiful. I am a legend.

“These people are evil because they do not see how wonderful I am. If they do not agree with me, I will proclaim that they are evil and bullies. Even in a Democracy, the people should never be allowed to speak against me. I was born to rule. My family has ruled this area for years. Even if the people believe it is a Democracy, they are wrong. The people are stupid, evil, bullies.”

One day, to prove how powerful she was, the Emperor’s daughter had the idea of showing herself to her people. “I will show them I have nothing to hide. I will go for a walk naked.”

So, the Emperor’s daughter proceeded to walk down the city’s Main Street. “Look, fair citizens, I have nothing to hide from you.” She said this as she thought…The citizens are so stupid. Once they see my great beauty they will never speak another word against me.

The people said, “She doesn’t have on any clothes.” “She is naked.” “We have already seen her naked in that bad film she did.” “Why would she do this since we have already seen her naked?” “Why is she wasting the taxpayer’s time on something this useless?”

Then, a writer, a lowly writer that had long ago been banished for being of no use to the Emperor’s daughter, spoke up and said “Good citizens, could it be the Emperor’s daughter is delusional?
---------------------------------------------------------
The moral of the story is this. The Emperor’s daughter is spoiled and vain. She has wasted the taxpayer’s money on her pet projects. Why didn’t the mayor stop it long ago? She has a mother and she has a son.  I feel so very sorry for what they must be going through, but she has brought this upon herself. You have been absolutely correct in asking for her to resign and pointing out the inadequacies of that office.  

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Fables Flash

Hoodoo, voodoo, what will Mary do? 
Powder, London, what has Pierre done? 
Polly Poppet. Great name, love it. 
That's a curtain call. Who is Jean Paul? 
Atlanta Midtown. 
Victoria Queen. Whitechapel scene.
It will fuck with your dreams.

A Green Fairy changed Mary.

Fables of the Reconstruction. Mature content warning.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009SCXVMK/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp_w0tHqb0PVYPFZ

A Celtic Tapestry Book Trailer




                                      Available March 21st from Moon Rose Publishing. Enjoy!

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

A CELTIC TAPESTRY, OFFICIAL TRAILER



Originally published on the Tarasphere, March 5, 2013

You know it’s coming. You’ve marked the date (if you haven’t, you really should) on your calendar. “A Celtic Tapestry”, the latest offering from Moon Rose Publishing, has just released the official trailer to accompany this anthology. I am SO proud to be a Moon Rose author, and even prouder to be a part of this great collection of stories. All of ladies that will be contained within the pages are amazing. This is truly a convergence of talent. So until March 21st rolls around, you’ll have to content yourself with this…..
Copyright 2013 of Moon Rose Publishing.
The wheel of the year turns, bringing the joy of spring, the warmth of summer, the richness of autumn, and the merriment of winter. But eight Celtic festivals link these seasons together, bringing with them romance, lust, danger, and even magic. From a city under threat from night-time creatures at Ostara, to a selkie caught by the light of the Lughnasadh moon, to a writer caught in the flames of a fiery goddess at Imbolc.
Eight authors have come together to give their own twist on these festivals, weaving each story with a blend of myth, magic, and contemporary telling…to create A Celtic Tapestry.
Elle J. Rossi – Crimson Beat
Livia Ellis – Beltane Fires
Carolyn Wolfe – Blade’s Magic
Tara S. Wood – Shore’s Edge
Elodie Parkes – The Picnic
Miranda Stork – Shadows in the Dark
Hunter S. Jones – Magic in Memphis
Laura DeLuca – Brigid’s Flame
Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000040_00018]
Copyright 2013 Moon Rose Publishing
Copyright 2013 Moon Rose Publishing

Monday, March 4, 2013

RED HOT RIGHT NOW


THE RED HOT RIGHT NOW BLOG HOP

What is a blog hop? Basically, it’s a way for readers to find authors new to them.  On this stop on the blog hop you'll find a bit of information on me, my debut novella and my upcoming story in an anthology for Moon Rose Publishing plus a link to another author you can discover!

Thanks to fellow author, Patrick Jones, for inviting me to participate in this event.  Visit his blog to learn more about Patrick and his work.  

In this blog hop, my fellow authors and I, in our respective blogs, have answered ten questions about our book or work-in--progress (giving you a sneak peek).  We've also included some behind-the-scenes information about how and why we write what we write--the characters, inspirations, plotting and other choices we make. I hope you enjoy it!

Please feel free to comment and share your thoughts and questions. Hello there, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hunter S. Jones, author and music blogger from Atlanta, Georgia, USA and I am Red Hot Right Now!


1: What is the title of your book?

Fables of the Reconstruction

2: Where did the idea come from for the book?

The novella developed from a series of dreams followed by quite a bit of research into Haitian and Creole Voodoo, and research into French Colonial and English Victorian cultures.

3. What genre does your book come under?

Fables of the Reconstruction is on Amazon as Horror/Supernatural/Occult. It has a mature content warning as well.

4: Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

That is just a great question. I'm really not certain what the answer is. Probably, a Charlize Theron type as Mary Montague. Charlize just plays cold blooded like no other actress. Dita von Teese as Polly Poppet...George Wilson of the Buffalo Bills would be amazing as Jean Paul Rouselle. Yes, I know he's an athlete but he's been in a few Mary J. Blige vids. He's also one of my neighbors. I assure you a couple of elevator rides to the 33rd floor with him can really spark a girl's creativity.  (Please forgive me George!)Although, I can neither confirm nor deny that Jean Paul is based on George Wilson. Pierre von Minzle? I once thought Jack White, but I'm just not ready to say.

5: What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Fables of the Reconstruction is the story of Pierre von Minzle, a Belgian pimp who possesses a magic powder while living in Victorian London's Whitechapel District with his companion, Mary Montague. 




6: Is your book self-published, published by an independent publisher, or represented by an agency?

It's self-published.

7: How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

The first draft before edits took about 6 weeks. That's just the writing part. The research took much longer.

8: What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I really don't know the answer to this question. It's a bizarre little book.

9: Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Please refer back to question 2...

10: What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? What is your next release?

Will there be a Book 2 of Fables? Keep in touch with me to find out. 

My next release on March 21st is through Moon Rose Publishing. It's an anthology called A Celtic Tapestry. Eight Celtic Festivals, eight authors. The authors are Livia Ellis, Hunter S. Jones, Laura DeLuca, Elodie Parkes, Elle J Rossi, Miranda Stork, Carolyn Wolfe, Tara Wood Stogner. My story is the Yuletide story and it's called Magic in Memphis, a contemporary romance that features the love story of a Wiccan solitary practitioner who falls madly in love with an English businessman the first night they meet. 




You can find out more information and pre-order A Celtic Tapestry on their website.

Here's the link for the Red Hot Scottish crime writer Steve Christie who will be joining me by blogging, next Wednesday, March 13th. Be sure to bookmark and add his blog to your calendars for updates on WIPs and New Releases! Happy Writing and Reading!









Sunday, March 3, 2013

Authors, Want More Attention?

Looking for more attention? Want to get more readers and build your audience? Check out www.AUTHORSdB.com. Indie authors need more exposure and sites like AUTHORSdB are invaluable to us. It's a great way to get your name and work noticed, at no expense to you.

Here's all you need to supply...

AUTHOR DETAILS

Website                                  
http://www.voodooloungepublishing.com

Blog                                        
Exile on Peachtree Street
http://www.thehuntersjones.blogspot.com

Twitter                                    
@huntersjones101

Facebook Account                
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100004109944440

Facebook Page                      
https://www.Facebook.com/FablesoftheReconstruction

Goodreads                              
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6561688.Hunter_S_Jones

Google+                                
https://plus.google.com/u/0/101140416268564688582/posts

Where I Live                          
Atlanta, GA

ONE REVIEW

ONE PUBLISHED BOOK

THE BOOK'S BLURB

LINKS WHERE YOUR BOOKS ARE SOLD

That's it. How great is that? Check out my page at http://www.authorsdb.com/component/content/article/8-authors/748-hunter-s-jones. Why don't you try it yourself and let me know what you think?

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Elodie Parkes: Welcome author Hunter S Jones

Elodie Parkes: Welcome author Hunter S Jones: Welcome Hunter tell us a little about yourself and your work. The art form I create when writing is much more interesting than an...

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Laura DeLuca: Interview with Author Hunter S. Jones

Laura DeLuca: Interview with Author Hunter S. Jones: ABLL would like to welcome author Hunter S. Jones. Sit back with a comforting drink and enjoy. What made you decide to write a book? ...

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

A Little Bit Of Tracey Edges - Short Stories and Poems: Pain

A Little Bit Of Tracey Edges - Short Stories and Poems: Pain: A beautiful short story for Valentine's Day. Enjoy! She had felt fragile all day but never expected... This. It hurt. Hurt bad. Her wasted desire dripped off in hardened sh...

Sympathy For The Devil - Bloody Valentine Day Blog Hop


Atlanta Georgia, 2013

You wonder - is it ever going to change? You hate to ask - is it ever going to change because change does not always mean for the better. The more things change the more they stay the same. Mon dieu, as he would say. How long can you endure some things and still have the courage to hope, to dream of a better time? Or, is it easier to sink into the cesspool of despair and acceptance?

It’s the moment you fall – head first into the abyss. You never fully understand why - do you merely stumble or does someone or something push you? You only know that you are headed for that area of blackness and despondency where no one can reach you. Your only hope, even if it is a small distant dream, is that one spark - one person, one idea - will pull you back and somehow bring you back from the depths of misery. Once in the abyss - that place - it feels as if even God is wet with rain. There is no salvation for your soul and no one can save you, except yourself, so they say. 

Sadly, I am in that place now. I take my coat from the closet and put it on; making sure it is buttoned before I go out tonight. I pick up the scarf on the table underneath the entry way mirror and glance at my pale face in the mirror.

Oh lord, I look horrible. My hair is too long and it’s been a long time since  since I ate. I placed pale makeup carefully on my face and hands to hide the decomposition of my skin. Of course, hands can always be covered by gloves at this time of year. One thing – at least I’m blonde and blue eyed, so my skin is pale by nature. Once I eat, I will return to my normal look. This is all part of the sorcery that damned, son of a bitch Pierre von Minzle did to me. I was lucky to get away from him after he was in Atlanta a few months ago. Tonight will be the first time I’ve been out since that night.

I place the scarf around my neck and walk out the door, locking it behind me. Why, I wonder? The monster lives in the condo. Why should I worry about someone getting inside?  

That asshole did this to me. I can’t believe I fell for his sweet talk and let him get to me with all that past life talk and all that ultra-terrestrial existentialism. Damn him and that accent, those expensive clothes, that long, black hair and that frigging guitar. Since when do I believe anything a guitar player says?

Maybe it really was voodoo.

Good lord. What was I thinking?

Finally, the elevator arrives and takes me to the lobby of the high rise. It’s been four months since I have been outside. Four months. I’ve been in that condo attempting to adjust to this new reality. Hard to believe that it’s taken this long just to learn how to walk. But, it’s given me time to study and get prepared to enter my new life with this damned disease or affliction or whatever it is. If no one can save me but myself, then so be it. I am prepared.

As I walk onto Peachtree Street, actually I’m so weak I practically stagger into the street in the still of the night. I pull the collar of my black wool coat around my neck to keep the frigid, damp air from my icy skin. Atlanta can be so cold in February.

The Pomba Gira doll Pierre gave me - or whoever he will be this time - is still in the pocket of the coat. He said I could use this doll to call for him if I ever needed him. He doesn’t know it, but I’ve been reading about Pomba Gira and I know just what to do now.

Oh, I am so hungry that I have forgotten my manners. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Mary Montague. We will see each other again soon, I’m sure.

Actually, you know, I am just like you. Well, we are somewhat similar, except my soul is owned by another person and don’t get me on that tangent again. I will explain more to you the next time we meet. Tonight, I must get something to eat so that I can get my strength back.  

Once I am stronger, I will look for that mother fucker Pierre. I know I can lure him back. Once I get him, I may slowly torment him or maybe just get it done and over with – a swift painless death. Even if I decide to fuck him to death, maybe I can at least find a way to get my soul back before his demise.

He will at least tell me how to get my soul back before he dies, whichever way I choose. He does talk too much…  

You better wish him luck because he is going to need it. 



(c) Voodoo Lounge Publishing 2013

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

R.J. Askew Reviews Fables of the Reconstruction



R.J. Askew's Blog

January 30, 2013

Life being so beautifully tiresome, we read to be free to be the more .. alive. And when to read is not enough we write, o how we write and write and write, because the tyranny of instincts insists we create to reconstruct its universal dream o fwhat it is to be anew within this primacy of primes .. alive.

Hunter S. Jones' Fables of the Reconstruction bit my neck and ate my brains.

I shall be reading it again.

A gone wrong honey badger of a novella, FABLES OF THE RECONSTRUCTION MAKES no apology for not wiping its feet when it dances into your life because - I tweet you not - your life exists for it to be.

Brilliant writing does not mimic life at its best because it is life at its best, being, as it is, at the core of that medium through which life perceives itself to be language.

On the face of it, FABLES OF THE RECONSTRUCTION is about four frotting zombies frotting and feasting their ravenous way through the hirsute fistula that was steampunk London's Whitechapel, circa 1890.

Perhaps life makes zombies of us all with its incessant BDSM demands for more, more, always MORE!

What are we to do? Become aesthetes? Poets? Loggoffs?

No. We obey, drain ourselves in the quest for more, become .. zombies. Take a look at th the 07:38 train from St.Albans into London's St.Pancras station: zombies, planning, craving, pursuing their next feast of whatever, success, sex, success, succsex. I tweet you not.

FABLES OF THE RECONSTRUCTION is an exhaustingly refreshing read. The wording is sweetly seductive, especially in the teasing early graphs, the undead characters live with startling vigour, and the structure, with it varied voices and mischievous ending cap-W-works.

I would have read it all without blinking save my wimpish Kindle swooned at the sheer sexual potency of the Huntress's locked and loaded life force.

This, for this reader, was the ultimate joy in all this: the sense of playing host to a supersexuality at the height of her creative powers, climaxing repeatedly through my synapses with a wink and a smirk.

To quote from another of The Hun's stories the read for me was a 'comustive coupling'. And - I tweet you not - this graph perfectly captures how it felt for me when I was done: 'My legs were still entwined around him as we dreamily returned from that place to which your mind retreats after your body is satisfied.' Metaphysically speaking of course.

More? You want more? Over to the story .. a few of my fave dabs:

'Minzle quite suddenly and beautifully danced into my life. He was really something. Full of life and mischief was he. And gorgeous; he was gorgeous.'

'..a body built for pleasure..'

'The demon tongue wrapped around my *li* .. like two delicate, small, wet fingers.'

'We exchanged this knowingness without saying one word.'

I commend FABLES OF THE RECONSTRUCTION to you. Some will fine it far too alive, stronger minds will be enlivened by it and crave more, amore, amore. *bows*

Richard.Stephenson.Author: AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Hunter S. Jones

Richard.Stephenson.Author: AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Hunter S. Jones: Name: Hunter S. Jones Book:   Fables of the Reconstruction Genre: Paranormal erotica 1.  Tell us about yourself.  Where are you from...

Trish Marie Dawson Interviews Hunter S. Jones

http://writertrishmdawson.wordpress.com/2013/01/30/interview-with-author-hunter-s-jones/comment-page-1/#comment-406

Saturday, January 19, 2013

PRESS RELEASE - FABLES OF THE RECONSTRUCTION

PRESS RELEASE - Fables of the Reconstruction January 18, 2013 — Atlanta, GA Book Club Reading List today announced that Fables of the Reconstruction has been added to its expanding list of titles from which book clubs can schedule the author to attend their meetings. Fables of the Reconstruction offers new insight into the zombie story. It has been called “Original” and “A New Genre” “An Allegory”. To read more about the book or learn how to schedule a discussion time with Ms. Jones, please visit her book’s page on Book Club Reading List – http://bookclubreading.com/fables-of-the-reconstruction/. Fables of the Reconstruction is the story of a Belgian pimp living in Victorian London with a ‘magic’ powder, claiming to be undead. He believes in Pomba Gira mysticism and follows Creole Voodoo. There is a modern; surprise twist to the book’s ending. Enjoy it now - only on Amazon. Meet Pierre von Minzle and Mary Montague. They are the Adam and Lilith of today’s zombie apocalypse. Fables of the Reconstruction is an explicit sexual adventure. It contains Pomba Gira mysticism, Creole voodoo, and the seeds of the zombie apocalypse set in Victorian London’s notorious Whitechapel District. Sex, magick, zombies. Bondage, F/F, M/F/F, and interracial sex scenes. Mature content warning. About Book Club Reading List Book Club Reading List (BCRL) publishes a quarterly book newsletter that introduces book clubs to authors who have agreed to make themselves available to participate in book club meetings. For more information, please visit http://bookclubreading.com/. ### Company: Book Club Reading List Contact: Steven Pojerova Email: press@bookclubreading.com

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Tales from a New Amsterdam (Britain) - New Release



Is it sorcery and seduction, magic and mayhem or taking a chance for a little romance? Find out when you download my newest vignette, available now - download for free today on Amazon.



Saturday, January 12, 2013

Respectable - Diane Major

Today, please join me in welcoming the super talented and creative Diane Major to exile. Diane has published numerous novels and has more upcoming projects. It is so exciting having her join me today, especially since Diane just released a new book today! (It's a children's book, so you will need to connect with her to learn more about the book and how to purchase it. Because, you all know how explicit my works are, so I'm not comfortable promoting children's books. I AM comfortable promoting Diane!)

 How are you Diane? Thank you for joining me today. This is so exciting! Could you please introduce yourself to our readers in fifty words or less.

I was brought up in a coal mining village in the North East of England. Over the years I worked in Community Development, Adult Learning and Youth Work.  Now, I am retired and enjoy, spending time with my family, writing, gardening, walking and fundraising for a local charity.

What books are you currently reading? Who are your favorite authors?

Over the past months, I have read a number of self published books.  The last book that I finished was something given to me as part of a beta reading group.  It was called The Clearing, by Thomas Rydder, which will be published on the 1 March 2013.  What an adventure!
My favorite authors include: Alyson Noel, Charlaine Harris, Dean Koontz, Stephanie Meyer, Jean Plaidy, plus so many more...

What inspires you to create?

Mm... An idea pops into my head and I immediately write an outline.  From that point everything just develops.  I have to say my outlines look absolutely nothing like the final stories.  As soon as I ‘put pen to paper’ the outline seems to take on its own identity and I let my imagination lead the way. (I smile)

Why did you become an author?

I decided to write, as through my chosen career, I became aware that people sometimes need an escape, particularly when they find themselves facing difficulties, or problems. I hope my writing can help people to take a step back from reality, even if it is only for the time it takes them to read one of my books.

What lead to the creation of the book we're discussing today? Is this book part of a series?

I had originally wanted to write a book based on some historical event.  I began to do research and everything that I was interested in had been written about and published many times. My books up to this point had been fantasy adventure, I therefore decided to broaden this genre to sci fi. That was when Enmitus, The Transformation became an idea.  I did an outline and then the story of Princess Corinna’s journey emerged. This books if the first book about Enmitus and I have completed the follow up, Enmitus – The Children.  If the books take off, I do have an idea for the third, as well as a title.

Can you share an excerpt with us?

From Chapter 7

Alee now silently slips through the gates, then disappears. I now turn to retrace my path when I see Omar and the woman heading to the out building with a lantern in their hand. Once they are far enough across the courtyard I make a dash for the rear door, on reaching it I turn to check whether I have been spotted. It seems Omar is too busy observing that woman who is in the process of opening the outbuilding door; they both appear to be totally oblivious to my presence. I slip through the rear door as I hear the woman howl, I do not look back, but dash to the safety of my room.

The following morning comes quickly and I go to the dining hall where there seems to be some commotion. Omar is dashing around demanding to know whether anyone has seen his servant, a boy named Alee, the one with the wavy hair. No one says they have seen the boy and then I feel a tap on my shoulder which surprises me, I turn.

“Princess Corinna,” the awful woman who is always with my future husband is standing looking into my face; her twisted lips make her look like she is sneering at me, “Have you seen a boy with mousey wavy hair on your travels?”

I instantly feel sick and think she must know that I have interfered.

I look back at her feigning confidence and reply, “I really have no idea who you are talking about.”

The woman looks me up and down before she walks away, as my heart pounds and a shiver ripples through my whole body in an instant. I am hoping Alee is now in a safe place as far away from the tower as possible. While I am out and about the following day it seems the issue around Alee’s disappearance has gone quiet and the servant is never mentioned again.

How can we purchase your book?

My books are available through Amazon and most major on-line book stores.  They are available in e-book, Kindle and paperback.

http://amzn.to/Vka4CR
http://amzn.to/RHoKLt

You can find my books at:
www.dianemajorauthor.co.uk

Do you have any other books planned?

Due to requests from readers I am publishing the sequel to Enmitus – The Transformation in the very near future. It is called Enmitus – The Children.

Cover preview:




Connect with Diane at these links:

Enmitus http://amzn.to/OZzxLu
Like Hell Itself http://amzn.to/U68L6a 
I Am Nine http://amzn.to/Oyn9X2
Children of Fury http://amzn.to/PetZjl
Website http://www.dianemajorauthor.co.uk/
Blog http://diane-newauthor.blogspot.com/ 
Facebook http://on.fb.me/MDuKm1
Twitter @dianemajor1

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Fall In Love With Me


For a unknown indie author, I have many friends and colleagues to thank for a tremendous 2012. My debut novella, Fables of the Reconstruction, has been recognized by so many. Reviewers have called the book "A whole new genre." "Original"  "Hypnotic" "An allegory" and said "Move over vampires, zombies are the next big thing."



In December, Fables of the Reconstruction, moved into the Top 50 internationally on the Horror/Occult charts on Amazon.com. Sales remain steady and yes, I have so many of you to thank. Following are a few of the awards/nominations my little monsters garnered:

Goodreads Rankings & Awards:  
#1   Best Unknown but must be Known
#1   Not Your Normal Zombie Book
#1   Help Me Pick My Next Read
#1   Good Books and Good Book Covers
#1   Best Indie Books of 2012

Goodreads Nominee: 
Indie Books - Paranormal Fiction (Top 5)
Kindle Book Reviews Best Indie Books of 2012 (Top 10)
Best Female Writers of Zombie Fiction (Top 10)
Best Books of 2012 (Top 50)
Books That Should Be Made Into Movies

Not only did Fables of the Reconstruction exceed all expectations, my first short story The Legend, the first in a series of experimental vignettes called Tales from a New Amsterdam traveled to #15 internationally on Amazon.



Expats Post (ExpatsPost.com) Dean Walker and MZ, also gave me free rein over a music blog beginning in December 2012. The blog has allowed me to work with up and coming musical talent such as Dax Lion, Kismet Ryding and Celly Black. I have also been fortunate enough to connect with Athens GA legends, the powerhouse supergroup Supercluster featuring the legendary alternative rock icon Vanessa Briscoe Hay,  the English Chanteuse Barb Jungr and Nashville's Americana rocker Donna Frost and blog on their very well respected careers.Look for exciting future blogs on more amazing musical artists in the next few months.



My personal blog, Exile on Peachtree Street, has been a revelation to me. Not only do I release a few personal insights but I have hosted such exciting new authors as Miranda StorkLivia Ellis, Elodie Parkes, Laura DeLuca, Jonathan DunneSteve Christie, Nic Taylor, ER Pierce, Kenneth Weene and GL Giles. Sommer Marsden and Lucy Felthouse, two powerhouses in the world of erotica have joined me in exile. There again, many talented authors and poets are scheduled to join me in upcoming blogs throughout 2013, so watch this space.

This year is shaping itself to bring more literary exposure. Looks for another release in Tales from a New Amsterdam soon. On March 1, no less than Oxford American Literary (oxfordamerican.org) will host the cover reveal for book 2 in the Fables series: Reconstruction of the Fables. Then, on March 21, 2013, look for the highly anticipated anthology from Moon Rose Publishing, A Celtic Tapestry, which will include my short story, Magic in Memphis.

So, I leave you today with many thanks to you all and many positive vibes for 2013. And, instead of a Stones song, I leave you an Iggy Pop song. Fall in Love with Me. Why not? Everyone else has.





Saturday, December 22, 2012

Christmas Puzzle by Kenneth Weene




Hello everyone. Today the author Kenneth Weene has joined me in exile. Kenneth, the man who gave us the quote, "The journey of a thousand miles starts with a single frustration".  Yes, Kenneth has written a very special story for us today called Christmas Puzzle. Thank you for joining me today Kenneth! Everyone enjoy and have a very Merry Christmas!



The cold, wet night was made more miserable by the reflection of Christmas lights in the puddles. The blare of carols echoed flatly off buildings. The racket of harried cab drivers filled the streets.
Matt Desmond was interviewing witnesses. Their stories were the same, not so much the same as would raise a flag, not as if they had been practiced. It was like putting a jigsaw puzzle together. Pieces fit; and when they did, the picture got clearer.
Matt Desmond liked puzzles. Twenty-three years on the force, the last fifteen and a half working homicide, and that was what he liked about his job—the puzzles.
He had loved doing puzzles with Sally. They would spread the pieces in the middle of the living room floor while Jaquie groused about the mess and his teaching their only kid to be as big a slob as he.
“Daddy, when I grow up, I’m going to marry you,” Sally would peep.
Matt would laugh and say, “I love you, too, Sally-Sweet.”
He had shared her tea parties and gone to her school assemblies and games. Not a lot of fathers did, especially not fathers who were also cops; but Matt and Sally were different.
And they talked—about everything. He never told her she was too young, too little. When she asked, he shared cases: Maybe he shouldn’t have, but Sally never seemed upset. They were just puzzles, and she loved puzzles.
Then without warning, those days were gone. Sally was gone. That was a puzzle Matt had never solved. Neither had the entire New York City police department.
“Maybe somebody’s got her in Mexico or Haiti or one of them other countries?” Morrison’s comment had not been helpful. What the hell could the light of his life be doing in some other country, some other world? Matt had thought of drugs and whorehouses and wept.
The girl whose body was splayed on the road—bones broken and her body contorted—appeared to be about the same age as Sally, as she had been—fourteen-fifteen?
Matt hated days like this, days that reminded him.
Dumb kids.
“Just exactly what happened?” he asked the next one, a young guy who was scarcely bundled against the cold.
“Dunno. Didn’t see.”
“Your friend dies and you ‘dunno?’” Matt tried to mimic the boy’s tone. He took note of the piercings; for Matt they were just another offense.
Nose, both ears—not even the same size holes, chin, left eyebrow, and that big thing in his tongue. What the hell is the matter with them?
“That’s right, Chief. I dunno. See I was in the can taking a dump. I mean you wouldn’t want me going out here.”
 Matt grimaced. “Over there,” he commanded pointing in the direction of the kids he had already questioned.
The next was a girl, maybe a bit older than the dead girl maybe not. Thin, dull-eyed, long hair needing a wash. Something insubstantial about her.
“Who the hell’s Ralph?” she responded to his first question.
Matt pointed to the piercing-pocked youngster he had just questioned.
“Oh, Slim Jim, he was in the john. Missed it all.”
“What was he doing in the john?” Even as he asked, Matt regretted the question.
The girl didn’t crack a smile. “Taking a crap.”
“You call him Slim Jim?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Cause he eats them, Slim Jims. You don’t want to be around him when he farts.” Her tone stayed flat, her face unchanged.
“So, tell me about the accident.”
“What accident?”
“Your friend, she’s dead.”
“Not my friend.”
“But you were here.”
“Duh. Yeah, we were all here.”
“What happened?”
“We was car surfing, she wanted to try, she slipped. End of story. End of her.”
“What’s her name?” So far nobody had known.
“Don’t know. Never seen her before. That’s how it happens.”
“How what happens?”
It was gnawing at Matt: the absence of caring, of involvement. Not a tear, not a smile, not even a grimace. He glanced over at “Slim Jim.” The boy was staring at him. They all were. They weren’t talking, not the way kids should, not the way Matt expected.
“How we join up. People drift in. People drift out. Some stay. Them that stay got names; the rest don’t.”
“Everybody has a name.” One name kept repeating itself in Matt’s head, “Sally, Sally.” He would never give up loving her, wanting to find her. That was what had ended their marriage. Jaquie had had enough. Matt figured any sane woman would have. No, it wasn’t that I missed her so much. I did. I do. But I can’t put it together. I got to figure—
“Sure,” the girl responded, “we all got the names our Moms and Dads gave us, but those aren’t our names, not once we’re here.”
“And you don’t know her name?”
“Nah. Not here long enough.”
“What about you?” Matt asked. “You got a name?”
“Sure. They call me Homer.”
“Homer? Why’s that?”
“’Cause I tell the stories.”
“What stories?”
“’Bout the first ones.”
“The first ones?”
“Yeah, the first ones.”
Uncomfortable, Matt did something he often did, something of which he was usually unaware. He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to the photograph, the one he always carried. The one that gave him a moment of—not peace, but respite. Yeah, it gave him relief.
Sally and him at Coney Island. That had been the summer before. They had ridden the Cyclone and eaten hotdogs, and laughed. He had felt good, young, alive. Father-daughter time. Then she had told him about Harris, her first love, her first lover. Matt had taken it well, only threatened to kill the bastard twice, cut off his balls—well that was a few times.
But they had laughed. At the end, they had laughed and asked one of the Japanese tourists to take their picture. That had been outside the House of Horrors. “Monsters, Zombies, Vampires,” the loudspeaker had proclaimed in tinny loudness. And Sally held the orange-rag dog he had won throwing rings at soda bottles.
“I hope your mother won’t be too jealous,” he had said; and they had laughed some more.
Coney Island: that had been her choice. Not Great Adventure or a water park. Sally loved New York. Matt figured that came from him, certainly not from Jaquie. His ex had remarried and moved to Atlanta. What the hell was in Atlanta?
Then Sally was gone, disappeared. Matt had found Harris, just a kid who had a new girlfriend. No leads. Nothing.
“Where’d you get that?” Homer demanded, breaking into Matt’s reverie. Her voice was louder, but it contained no hint of emotion.
“You know her?”
“Sure. That’s Her.”
Matt stood dumb.
The girl reached out for his wallet. Matt handed it over. 
“That’s Her,” she repeated.
“Who?”
“Mrs. Drac. You know, Her?”
“That’s my daughter. Do you know—”?
He had no time to finish. The girl had wrapped her arms around him. With strength that belied her slight frame, she pulled him to her and sank her teeth into his neck.
Then Matt understood. He thought of weeping, but his feelings had died. At least his Sally hadn’t forgotten. She had sent for him. It would be a good Christmas. That much he finally understood. 

Monday, December 17, 2012

Tales from a New Amsterdam - The Legend

THE LEGEND
The first in my experimental series, Tales from a New Amsterdam.
A short story of love and Cherokee Magic in a Heavy Metal world of the 1980s.
Available FREE via Kindle.Fun lunch reading. Download it today.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-New-Amsterdam-Legend-ebook/dp/B00AP6ET1K/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1355753438&sr=1-1&keywords=Tales+from+a+New+Amsterdam