Back to moving forward...

Here's what I've started after Léon has taken the surviving marine, Clerik, to his schooner, the Angelique. Eogard is the captain, a vampire. Leon's English is not good but he needs it to communicate with Clerik and Eogard...

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Before he could think, I had Clerik in my cabin on the Angelique. He was close to freaking out from the sudden change in location so I sat beside him and said, "I have drug. Make you sleep. Other trick." 

Then I showed him a pair of Chinese fingernail rings. Put one each on my thumb and index finger. Clicked them. He seemed to accept that explanation about my nails and relax a little.

I did not do this out of kindness. I needed him to settle into silence until I could get things arranged with Eogard on the journey back to the west. 

That calmed him a lot, though even through the gag I could hear him grumble, "Wha' yeh do'n' wit' meh?" 

I can say, with all truth, I did not really know what my plans were, for him. Not then. 

I pulled some chains from the cupboard and bound him to the bed, spread eagle, face up. Then I stood at the foot of it and gazed upon him. He reminded me of Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man...if a bit softer around the belly. 

"Sleep,” I said. “We talk. Morning." 

He replied with something like, "Don' kill meh, please." 

I wondered if the girl he had killed also begged for her life. Probably. So we'll see how much good his begging does.

Just to emphasize my control of him, I trailed my fingers through the hair on his belly up to his chest. aAnd it struck me that he might be good to bring home as a gift to my pack. Let them decide what to do with him. 

But all I said was, "Play nice, you be fine." 

He glared at me, still afraid but muttering as best he could. "Ye wan' mor'...this?" 

"Yes. I take you...my home. You stay quiet. Tell nothing." 

"Won' tell enneh-one. Shameful." 

I was tired of the grumbling in his gag so removed it and pulled on his dick. He cried out. I moved close to his face.

"This, you like," I snarled. "Girl you kill? Not so much. We have deal?" 

He leaned back on a pillow to gaze at the ceiling as he said, "Take meh soul?" 

I chuckled. "Gone much past." 

I could see him thinking, hard, as he swallowed and little whimpers of fear still leapt from within him. I continued to hold tight on his dick. Made him squirm as my free hand toyed with his elegant nipples. 

Finally, he nodded. "O-keh." 

Now I wasn’t so dumb that I thought he meant it. He wanted time enough to figure out how to escape me. And I actually felt it might be fun to let him get away a couple of times during ports of call. That way, I could go hunting. In fact, the more I considered that idea, the more it aroused something primal in me. 

He noticed it in my eyes so turned his head away from me, as much as he could. He was close to tears. 

I chuckled and pinched his nipples, making his yelp in pain. He shook his head. “Please,” he grunted. “Jess don’ hurt me.” 

Stupid man...begging for mercy after what he’d done? That would make my abuse of him even sweeter. 

Here we fucking go again...

What the hell do you do when your MC decides something he's done has brought about a major change in him...but he won't tell you what it is? I've been through this, before, with other characters and it drives me nuts, because I can't figure out the story till I know.

Right now, Léonidès is saying he's gone through a big, seismic change. Something deep within him is different, and I'm at a loss as to what. He's a fucking vampire. They are what they are. Am I working up a new mythology in vampire lore where Blood Angels can grow or change or be affected by events?

No idea. Is he going nicer? Meaner? Is he ending his demand he and his pack feed only on people who deserve punishment? He's toying with the idea of making Clerik, one of the marines he took, into a doùlos. A sort of slave beholden to him who can work during the day. Like a familiar.

Léon doesn't need a doùlos. He's not that affected by the sun so can handle daytime needs, himself. And he just forced the man to watch him viciously rape and kill a buddy. Doesn't exactly make for a loyal servant. Is he going to toy with the man? Torture him? Fall in love with him? All of the above? None?

He's also heading for Alexandria, Egypt, where the Oiym have their fortress and Franz is contained. Is he planning to take Franz, anyway? Or just mess up Gabrielle's plan to take him? Or just watch and get his jollies?

Once again, I guess I'll have to start writing and hope I'm following the path Léon wants. I've already dumped half of what I've written for this chapter, and I hate throwing out my work.

Which I don't really do. That's how I wind up with a dozen drafts of each section and get lost, sometimes.

This may wind up with twice that many...

Seen...

I've often said I write so I don't become the beast, and this helps clarifiy and support my reason why...

I was impacted by it way too much. I need to sit with it, for a while.

But at the moment, I'm glad I'm alone and to myself, considering where my brain has been going this year...

Memories...

I've been thinking back on when Blood Angel came to being in my head. I was in St. Louis visiting an old friend. A guy I'd known since college, whose life was made up of stumbling blocks and then cut short by pancreatic cancer.

It was for his wedding, most of which I missed because I was being chauffeur for various older people going back and forth to their hotels. God...nearly thirty years ago.

Once he and his (third) wife were gone and everything was done, it was mid-afternoon. So I drove around the city.  Not the prettiest of places, but I did see an old church that fascinated me. 

The Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis. In white stone and a lovely rose window. With two bell towers and steps up to the entrance, from the street. It was near Forest Park. And for some reason I thought of doing a version of Tristan and Isolde as a tragic vampire tale. 

Where she finds a man she wants to join with her as undead but he's too locked into being human. The climax was to take place in the church tower, where he dies protecting her, or something, and she is so destroyed, she walks down the stairs up to the double doors and flings them open to be burned up by the setting sun.

Pretty overwrought. And would have been difficult, logistically, because the doors faced south, not east or west, in direct line with the sun. Didn't matter. I couldn't figure the story out.

Not until Katrina hit New Orleans. I shifted the location to there, and it fell into place as a screenplay. Tristan is a young jazz musician with a horrific past and Gabrielle is in the city making sure her company gets some of the rebuilding money. She connects with Tristan and slowly convinces him to join with her as a Blood Angel. Which he does under one condition: they leave New Orleans forever.

And from that, the whole of this series of novellas has grown.

When I have thoughts...

Run for cover. Because as I was adding intensity to Léonidès' rape of and feeding on that young American Marine, a comment whispered into my head. Not sure who from...be it Léon or one of his pack. Maybe Dmitriy. But it was simple...and maybe a bit obvious.

We are now what we always will be, until we end. While there is nothing but change around us.

Rather Existentialistic, I think. But a true observation of the state of vampires, be they Blood Angels or not. Eight-hundred years after Léon was turned, he looks the same. As do Gregory, Stephane, Loronce, Reyndahl, Tellis and Doric, in his pack...all of whom are hundreds of years older.

Same for the Oiym, who are the oldest ones. They remained as they are while around them buildings crumbled, civilizations collapsed, and generations of human beings passed them by.

This is different from Anne Rice's Interview With the Vampire, which was more about Louis' search for himself and how to deal with the suffering he caused. 

In the section I just rewrote, it hits Léon that he actually has changed in his outlook. He's more open to causing pain and terror. He still has his moral code of going after only those who deserve to die, but now he's considering committing torture to the mix, to bring out the horror of his victims' end.

I may play with him being able to do that because he's a Blood Angel and not merely a vampire. Not sure yet....but it could add some tension to his pack. He can change but they cannot?

I dunno...just me having thoughts...

Differences...

I have two separate websites for my books, as has been noted, before. KMSCB Books for my mainstream novels and KMSMM Books for my gay erotica...which has an over 18 notice. That's deliberate because I don't want anyone who isn't into fairly hardcore MM books and novellas to get into something that will freak them out. I've had that happen and, to be honest, I think it's just good manners to be considerate of other people.

They're both under my name, and if you Google me (full name; there's an actor named just Kyle Sullivan who's half my age) what comes up quickest is lists of the titles of my books. Beginning with How to Rape a Straight Guy and Rape in Holding Cell 6 and such. So I'm not hiding them.

I just write what I write. Most of it's gay-oriented but not all. The Alice '65 and A Place of Safety have little MM stuff in them as opposed to The Vanishing of Owen Taylor, which has a gay man investigating the disappearance of his gay uncle in Palm Springs.

Once my books are done and published, I usually like what I've done with them. I can see mistakes I made and try to improve on the next book, but overall I'm not disappointed in how they turned out. And my vague attempt to keep them timely usually works quite well.

The Vanishing of Owen Taylor was written 10 years ago but still reads right for current day, with the anti-gay push of the MAGAt Cult and duplicity of politics and religion. I'm going to start pushing it more on FB and Instagram. Pull back on the politics...because when it comes to that I feel like I'm screaming into the void.

And after a while you have to accept that all you're doing is giving yourself a sore throat and headache...while VoT lays out the points you're making very clearly and neatly in a simple murder mystery.

Sounds like me...

I read a story on Instagram about a philosopher in Ancient China who was so impressed with his intelligence and awareness, he wrote a long, pretentious poem about how enlightened he was. How he was rooted in honesty and reality, and that not even the eight winds can move me.

He sent a copy to a friend, across a lake. And the friend responded with a single word. Fart (in Chinese, of course). Elegant Cantonese, I'm sure, with finely etched images to accompany the words.

Well, that infuriated the philosopher, so he got himself a boat and traveled across that lake to chew his friend out. But when he arrived, his friend just laughed and said, "The eight winds cannot move you, but one fart sent you across a lake."

I'm both of those guys. Pompous and bit full of myself over my writing, characters and stories. But also willing to stick a pin in my hot air balloon before I float off into the stratosphere. With mood swings as extreme as someone deep into schizophrenia.

I know I wonder if I'm cowardly about my writing, at times, but I continue to do it and publish it under my name. No hiding.

That should count for something in my view of myself.

Hmmmmmmm...

 I should write a song about myself. Something like:

This mean-assed former redhead

Will treat you rough, and when you're dead,

He'll never let it once be said

He wrote you as if you're ill-bred.

Or some such shit. I dunno. I'm a total nutcase, right now. This kind of crap probably means something only to me. But I'm finding ways to keep going forward, at least. Haven't retreated into my library of DVDs, yet.

I think I'm going to have Léonidès...no, not going to have; I'll follow his lead and watch as he travels to Alexandria to climb up the wall to a window of the room where Gabrielle is taking Franz to her bed. At which point he does a very Peeping Tom kind of thing.

Maybe Dmitriy and one or two of the Oiym join him. Have a little kaffeeklatsch around the window. All cloaking themselves from Gabrielle's awareness.

Or...maybe they think they are hidden but she's stronger than that and knows and is enjoying showing off her seductive abilities. And Franz's prowess.

Hits the kink register, it does. And since Léon is the one telling the story, we get his irritation and jealousy and sadness at seeing what Franz has to offer that is not available to him...except through force. Something he's perfectly willing and able to do.

Maybe he decides to join them and makes Franz the meat in their sandwich, giving witness to Gabrielle turning him into another Blood Angel.

Anne Rice, eat your heart out...

I did it...

I returned to Blood Angel-4 A Long Journey and rewrote Léon's rape and murder of a young American marine in 1871. Made it as horrifying as I could. Painful. Deserving, because that marine had participated in the rape and murder of a peasant Korean girl and her father. And I let it be as satisfying as possible to Léon.

I also think I made the guy's death difficult for anyone who has any form of empathy. And added a level of horror to it in that Léon made sure another marine who was involved in the girl's death is watching him do it...knowing he will be next. 

Just not right away.

I won't say it was easy to do, but now that I have it worked out I can make it read better and add more depth to it to make it as conflicting as possible. That's me loving what Hitchcock would do by making the audience sympathize with the villain. Identify with the villain.

That's not to say Léon is a villain in this book. He's the lead character and he has his moral code, but that makes him judge and jury to whoever it is he chooses to feed upon. And there are plenty of people out there who would fit well into his requirements for his sustenance.

All of this has been true since the dawn of civilization. Men and women crushing others for their own gain. Wars used to wipe out towns and genocide committed over and over and over. The vampire community is not the evil in the world; they merely feed upon it. Use it to survive. 

Maybe that's what BA is all about -- monsters are the way of the world, not angels.

Am I a wimp or a writer?

That was the subject of a little back and forth I had in my head, this evening, as I did the dishes. Two days worth of dishes. Left to pile up. I've got way too much dinnerware for a single man and...anyway...

I read a post on facebook by a fellow writer and she discussed how her own traumas led her to write books that were dark as night. And how hard that was to reconcile in herself. 

Which apparently pissed off part of me and some hard questions were asked of myself by myself. Which I know sounds crazy and may well be, but that's what happened.

Blood Angel is about a gay vampire making his way through existence. He's a nice guy. His unlife is good. He's a royal prince and his pack is a group of courtiers who, while not of the same level as he, are fun to be around. Still he never feels completely part of them. He thought he found someone to share his world...but realized he was fooling himself.

So now he's pissed and hurt and angry at his own stupidity and...and he's a fucking vampire! Why am I trying to make him act like a teenaged boy?! He drinks human blood! Kills people while doing it! And I'm all touchy-feely about how awful that is, even though I make sure to note he only goes after bad people? And then I whimper and whine and wonder do I really want to continue writing such a mean story?

Well...first questions to hit me from within were, Why did you choose to write it in the first place? Why start something you don't want to finish?

And that's what the argument was about. You chose a vampire as the main character of your story, Kyle. And you minimized what he was as much as you could. Why? If you're going to be such a coward about being honest to the story and character, why start it? Are you a writer who faces the truth of your characters? Or are you a wimp? And if the latter, why should any character trust you to deal honestly with them if things become too difficult for you?

And my response? I'm afraid to touch the darkness in me. Which is answered by, Vampires are vampires. Deal with it or hide in your shadows and take up macrame, for crying out loud.

No. I can't. I won't. I'm not that weak...and macrame's boring.