"Siren Slave" by Aurora Styles

BOOK TITLE: Siren Slave

AUTHOR: Aurora Styles

YEAR: 2014

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Erotic Fantasy

GRADE: Pass

Princess Freya masquerades as a loyalist of Roman culture while simultaneously feeding their military secrets to a band of pirate rebels led by Siegfried the Fox, whom she has a massive crush on. She also discovers herself to be a fey creature with magical powers that will help her in her quest. But without full knowledge of how to use those powers, she succumbs to kidnapping at the hands of druid assassins and needs to be rescued by Siegfried. Soon after, the two of them form a master/slave relationship that angers every close-minded conformist who can’t understand BDSM culture. Even Siegfried has doubts from time to time, but he’s determined to do everything in his power to make this relationship work. Freya is determined as well; it was her idea, after all.

Because this book falls under the erotica section, there’s an obligation to deliver when it comes to sexy scenes. While I won’t say exactly what these scenes entail, I will tell you that your wildest fantasies will come true whether you’re living vicariously through Siegfried or Freya. And the best part of their relationship? Despite being a master/slave dynamic, it’s actually healthier than most “normal” relationships out there. They both want this. They both hunger for this. They’re perfect for each other, which is more than I’ll ever say about the Christian Greys and Anastasia Steeles of the erotica genre. The sex can seem a little rough at times, but it’s rough in a good way and not in an uncomfortably cringey way. Aurora Styles knows her stuff!

You know what else she knows all about? Creating a likeable protagonist in the form of Freya. Her knack for puns, alliteration, and snappy one-liners make her dialogue a joy to read. She’s not quirky for the sake of being quirky; her humor is authentic. Any man would be lucky to have her company, let alone Siegfried the Fox. But if you think sober Freya is a lot of fun to be around, try getting her drunk on blueberry ale or white wine. Or better yet, give her one of Hedwig’s not-so-carefully concocted potions. Yes, Freya is clumsy and silly, but those flaws don’t detract from her being a likeable character. As a writer myself, I envy Aurora Styles’s ability to pull that off.

Last thing I want to touch on is the creatively-woven fantasy elements this story has. Freya discovers her ability to turn into a dragon/swan/mermaid and that alone is impressive. She’s also nifty with a trident and she can manipulate blood. These abilities don’t make her a Mary-Sue, though, because she’s just as vulnerable as any other character in the story. Plus, she struggles to master these powers completely, especially when each villain is more difficult to fight than the last. But not to worry, because Hedwig the Sea Witch has her potions and seductive magic, Siegfried has his stag transformation and magical panpipes, Hecate and Balor have their own demonic powers, and Woden…well, he’s just a muscle-bound stud with a massive spear and no need to wear anything but a loincloth in freezing weather. All of these characters round each other out with their powers and their unique personalities.

While there are some typos scattered here and there and the mythology is hard to keep track of at times, Siren Slave was an enjoyable read from start to finish. It’s a thick book with long chapters, but they go by so fast because of how easy it is to get lost in the action, violent, dramatic, and sexual. Aurora Styles will get a passing grade for her efforts. This book definitely took a lot of hard work and she should be rewarded for that. Congratulations on the four out of five stars! Don’t let the haters get you down!

Normal Is Overrated

VERSE 1

If creativity is considered crazy

Normalcy is considered lazy

If rock and roll makes me evil

Then fuck the holiest of people

If awkwardness makes me a pariah

Your social mask makes you a liar

If being me is a sin and a curse

Being you is ten times worse

CHORUS

Normal is overrated

Life is fucking wasted

Individuals sacrificed

For the capitalist price

VERSE 2

If normalcy will get me a job

I’ll lie on the couch like a slob

If mediocrity will get me paid

I’d rather sleep in the grave

If ordinary is the way to live

Two weeks notice I shall give

If average is the new future

I’d rather be a lowlife loser

CHORUS

Normal is overrated

Life is fucking wasted

Individuals sacrificed

For the capitalist price

BRIDGE

I’m too good for you

And your money too

You’ll never change me

You’ll just enrage me

VERSE 3

If you don’t believe in me

Set my crazy ass forever free

If you want to leave my side

The coffin is where you hide

If you want to cancel my career

I’ll give you something to fear

I’ll do whatever the hell I want

If normal is right, I want to be wrong

CHORUS

Normal is overrated

Life is fucking wasted

Individuals sacrificed

For the capitalist price

Young Turk

VERSE 1

I am the Young Turk, I am creative fuel

I don’t say this shit because it sounds cool

I do it for the fire, I do it for the passion

Fuck what’s trendy, fuck what’s in fashion

Call me a Young Turd, call me a Young Jerk

You’re the only one who’s going berserk

You’ve got a loud voice? Mine is even louder

My words are explosive like lit gun powder

VERSE 2

I am the Young Turk, social justice ronin

Adrenalize the world with a dose of serotonin

I don’t need your guns, I don’t need your bombs

You don’t need armor, just a hug from your mom

Call me a snowflake, call me easily triggered

Watch as this movement gets bigger and bigger

You’ve got an army? Mine is even stronger

Your iron fist won’t rule for much longer

VERSE 3

I am the Young Turk, your worst fucking nightmare

The ghost breathing down your neck until you’re tired

You will relent one day, you will fucking pay

For all the sins you’ve put on internet display

For all the shots fired, for all the brains wired

For all the demon seeds you’ve fucking sired

You’ve got a congregation? Mine is everywhere

Watch as the one percent rips out their own hair

FINAL LINES

I am the Young Turk, lightning in a bottle

I am the Young Turk, American role model

I am the Young Turk, see you in November

I am the Young Turk, always fucking remember

I am the Young Turk! X4

Sage Against the Machine

Caitlin Sparks was a one woman wrecking crew, yet she couldn’t overthrow an entire oppressive government by herself. She wasn’t always alone. She had many comrades to help her in her quest to overthrow Dark-Law, Jr., a powerful sorcerer who unlike his father used futuristic technology rather than medieval magic to take over this world. One by one, each of Caitlin’s warriors fell by the zap of a laser, a burst of a flamethrower, or a bullet from a depleted uranium rifle. If she had a dime for every tear she cried since then, she’d be an oligarch.

Her only hope for completing her rebellion against the unjust dictatorship rested within the hands of an elderly sage named Eli Magruder. After slashing her way through several drones and armored soldiers with her oversized sword, Caitlin finally located the wise one’s temple. Except it didn’t look much like a temple. It was more like a brick compound with various runes carved into the walls, some of them spray painted like graffiti.

The rebel warrior scratched her raven pony tailed head in confusion as to whether or not she was actually at the right address. For all she knew, Eli Magruder could just be a ghost and the whole thing could be one huge trap. She shrugged her shoulders and walked tiredly across the dirt field with only lightning bolts from the gray sky to illuminate her way. It had been a long journey complete with battles, loss, and general exhaustion. There better be a fucking sage here, Caitlin thought to herself.

Once she trekked past the dirt field, she dragged herself up the stone stairs to the front entrance and knocked on the rickety wooden doors, both of which falling off with the slightest of contact. Some temple, Caitlin said in her mind. The interior of the building was pitch black until a flame path lit up in front of her, leading to a seven-foot tall mountain of a man with a scraggly white beard, a black tank top, and brown khakis. Worst of all, he was wearing a black sheep’s mask. Not what anybody would call sagely, but Caitlin Sparks decided to play long…for now.

She carefully walked along the fiery path and approached the man she perceived as the wise Eli Magruder, who was sitting in a wooden rocking chair with even more languidness than shell-shocked Caitlin. The sword slinger got on one knee and bowed to her sage in a show of respect. Or fear, depending on how creepy this man really was.

“You must be Caitlin,” said Eli in a gravelly monster voice. “You’ve come a long way just to see me. I’ve been expecting you. If you’re looking for an ally in your fight against. Dark-Law, Jr., I can’t provide you assistance with that. I may look like a titan, but I am still too old to be slinging magic spells on the battlefield with you.”

“I understand if you’re not feeling up to the task,” said Caitlin. “I didn’t come here for extra soldiers. Lord knows I’ve led many of them to their doom already. I’m here merely to seek your wisdom and counsel. Perhaps you have advice on how to combat Dark-Law, Jr. and his forces.”

“I’ve certainly seen what his minions are capable of. Too much bloodshed. Too much oppression. Too much starvation. And there’s not one person who’s been able to weaken his iron grip over this world. If you want advice on how to defeat this madman and bring peace to our world again, it’s this.” Eli took a deep breath and removed his sheep’s mask. “Fall in line. Just fall in line and nobody will get hurt.”

Caitlin stood back up and furrowed her eyebrows at the “wise advice” she was given. “That’s it? I came all this way and had many men and women die on my watch so that I could hear that? That’s your genius plan? Just let Dark-Law, Jr. do whatever the hell he wants?”

“This is clearly not what you were expecting and I can tell you’re disappointed,” said Eli. “However, this is all I have to give you. The reason your warriors have died is because you keep pushing forward in a battle you can’t win. If there were no battles, your soldiers would still be alive.”

“That’s bullshit!” screamed Caitlin. “Dark-Law, Jr. has been killing off people left and right whether they rebelled against him or not! He’s a bully! He gets off on that crap! He thinks this planet is his own personal coliseum! You may be okay with what’s going on here, but I’m too busy trying to change the world to listen to your bullshit! Fuck this, I’m out of here!”

“I’m sorry, Miss Sparks, I can’t allow you to leave,” said Eli as he stood up and clinched his fists, purple energy swirling around them.

“Old man, you’re in no position to threaten me or to give me orders!” yelled Caitlin as she drew her massive sword. “I wasted a long journey coming here and all you gave me was cereal box advice! I think I’m entitled to handle this on my own considering you have the intelligence and wisdom of a packet of ketchup!”

“You may not like it!” screamed Eli so powerfully that he knocked Caitlin back and caused her to raise her eyebrows in fear. “But that’s the way the world works. You’re welcome to stay in my temple for as long as you need to. In fact, I won’t let you go anywhere else. Not while there’s still death and destruction around.”

“You bastard!” shouted Caitlin when she ran at Eli full force and swung her oversized blade, intending to decapitate him. A green aura was protecting the elderly sage and when the sword made contact, it bounced out of the attacker’s hands and skidded across the floor into the darkness. Unable to accept the fact she was screwed, Caitlin threw wild punches and kicks at the wizard, still no effect.

“My turn, you spoiled bitch!” screamed Eli as he wrapped his massive hands around Caitlin’s throat and hoisted her in the air, her feet dangling beneath her. As she struggled for oxygen, she tried to pry his huge hands loose and even kicked him in the balls for good measure. Nothing. Not one dent. It didn’t take long before Caitlin’s lungs flattened, her neck was sore, and her vision was as black as the rest of the temple.

Caitlin was left in the dark for what seemed like days, maybe even months. In reality, it had only been hours since she was choked out by the massive Eli Magruder, who was supposedly too old for combat. When the battle-hardened woman finally came to, her throat was sore, her eyes felt like they were going to pop out, and she had a monstrous headache. She didn’t wait to fully recover when she felt around for a sense of her surroundings.

Once again, she was left in the dark, but this time for a much more disturbing reason. She was kept in a claustrophobia-inducing space with wood paneling on both sides of her, against her back, and in front of her. This could only mean one thing. The so-called “wise one” locked her in a coffin and quite possibly buried her underground.

Tears formed in Caitlin’s pain-wracked eyes as she kept saying, “No!” to herself and pounding the lid to the coffin. “Let me out of here!” she screamed in desperation. “Let me out of here, you have no right to keep me here! Please! You can’t do this to me! I’ll stay with you if you just let me out!”

Not one vocal response. She truly was all alone in that coffin. She cried several more tears as she thought about all the times she let her fellow warriors down. So many deaths. So many fathers and mothers without children. So many children without parents. So many wives without husbands. A trail of broken homes was all Caitlin Sparks left behind, even more so than Dark-Law, Jr. could have done himself. Her death by starvation in this coffin would be the final blow against a rebellion that never was. No wonder her eyes were flooding with tears.

And then she heard Eli’s voice once again, this time saying, “Okay, okay, just wait a minute! Haven’t you kids got any patience?!” The crying stopped. Her coffin was being lifted out of whatever hole it was kept in and the lid was pulled off with relative ease by the monstrous Eli Magruder, who then proceeded to pull Caitlin out of the box and show her that she had been in the backyard of the temple this whole time.

Caitlin Sparks wasn’t going to wait for an explanation. She continued to throw punches at her assailant, but these ones were more like emotional slaps than real combative blows. She screamed obscenities at him while Eli held her arms and tried to calm him down. With these words, her assault came to an end: “The drones are gone.”

“…What?”

“I gave you that crappy advice because there were drones flying over my temple. I buried you back here to make them think you were dead and done for and that I was just a crazy old man. The whole speech about conformity was a trick.”

As Caitlin looked at her new mentor in disbelief, Eli handed her back her sword and said, “As long as Dark-Law, Jr. doesn’t think you’re a threat anymore, he won’t see you coming when you finally lop off his head. You came to my temple for advice? Here it is: stealth and brains will always win over brute force and brawn. I helped you with the stealth part, now all you have to do is maintain your cover. I believe you can do it, Miss Sparks. I know you can.”

Caitlin clutched her sword handle with a newfound strength and looked into Eli’s eyes with a mixture of anger and focus. The anger wasn’t directed at him. On the contrary, she was thankful he went out of his way for her like that. The anger and rage was all for Dark-Law, Jr. She would take every ounce of that rage on him with one blow.

“Trust me when I say this, Master Magruder,” said Caitlin with newfound respect for him. “I’m bring you that son of a bitch’s head on a silver platter. Not just for me, but for you and everyone else he has slaughtered mercilessly. If I have to be slow and careful, then that’s how I’ll do it. I owe you big time, Master.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Miss Sparks…except Dark-Law, Jr.’s head!”

Common Values

***COMMON VALUES***

I’m going to go ahead and ask the million dollar question. In order for a relationship to work, do the two people involved have to have things in common or is it really true that opposites attract? I’m not just talking about romantic relationships; I also mean business, family, and friendly relationships. I’ve heard arguments for both answers to that question, but I still can’t make heads or tails of it all. Then again, my relationships in life are limited to my family and internet friends, so it could be that I lack the necessary experience to make this judgment call. But I’m going to try and do it anyways, just for the sake of argument. That, and I’m desperate for journal topics.

Let’s say you’re someone who believes that the two people have to have at least one thing in common with each other. When you have that one thing the two of you share, you can give each other some great conversations and even better feedback on how to make that activity better. You both like online gaming? Great! Then buy a copy of Diablo III and rock out with your cock out. You both like soccer? Awesome! Go to soccer matches together and hold hands. Having something to bond over keeps the relationship from getting stale.

And then there’s the other school of thought in which like protons and electrons in chemistry, opposites attract. There actually are couples out there who practice this idea. You’ve got liberals getting together with conservatives, geeks with cheerleaders, rebels with conformists, introverts with extroverts, the list goes on and on. The argument I’ve heard in support of this is that nobody wants to have a relationship with someone who is exactly like them since the two people would get tired of each other quickly. While those two would have a lot to bond over, maybe too much bonding can lead to a lack of privacy.

After going over the two schools of thought, I’m riding the fence with this one. I want to have at least a few things in common with the other person, but not everything. That’s why I have such a hard time talking to the barbers at Hair Masters. Disgust for small talk aside, when I hear about their interests and values, I find out that we have nothing to bond over.

How am I supposed to talk about how “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” turned me into an emotional wreck when the hairdresser wants to read books about World War II? Can I even get one word edgewise about how lethal Kevin Owens’ pop-up power bomb is when the other person would rather watch the Seattle Seahawks run around and pounce on other teams? What if I want to talk about Dimebag Darrell’s shredding techniques to someone who listens to country songs about losing their goddamn truck? That kind of polarity can make me feel lonely.

Of course, I could take some initiative and actually introduce the other person to my values and interests, but I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing myself on them. When I was a middle schooler in Chehalis, Washington, I tried relentlessly to get my friends to share my interest in those Dick Tracy cartoons from the 1960’s. You know the ones, with racial stereotypes like Go-Go Gomez, Hemlock Holmes, Joe Jitsu, and Sketch Paree. Since Chehalis is swarming with rightwing nut jobs, they probably would have eaten that shit up with a spoon. But apparently, the Dick Tracy trend never caught on. Oh well. At least I learned not to force my values on other people.

So, ladies and gentlemen. Where do your loyalties lie in this debate? Should your friends and paramours have similar interests or do opposites really attract? Share your experiences with me and let’s have a fucking conversation. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

　

***BOOK REVIEWS***

The next time I post a book review on my social networking sites, Good Reads, and Amazon, it will be “So…I Met a Vampire” by Paul McAvoy. I’m only 63 pages into it, but the book itself is approximately 180 pages and the writing style is so fast-paced that I can blow through it probably by tomorrow afternoon. If not, then the day after. I always close my commitments to fellow indie authors. Never forget that.

　

***BLOOD BRAWL***

I don’t really know when chapter three will be written, but when it is, it’ll feature a chase scene between Ivan Blackstone and the female rogue who will later be identified as Justine Dupree (not the biggest spoiler I can give). Really, wouldn’t you run too if an orc in a trench coat and hood was chasing you down the streets with a big ass scythe? Especially if you thought he looked like the Grim Reaper from a distance and knew his name was Ivan fucking Blackstone.

　

***MOVIE OR TV SHOW REVIEW***

Though it’s not the freshest thing in my mind right now, my next movie review will be about Kung Fu Panda. This movie has everything I could ever want: martial arts action, animal warriors, and a story where a complete nobody becomes a conquering hero over the course of the movie. Uh-oh! Did I just give away a spoiler? Come on, you knew that shit was coming from miles away. It’s not about IF the hero conquers. It’s about HOW. Never forget that.

　

***WRESTLING OR MMA MATCH REVIEW***

I’ve been giving out passing grades like it’s fucking Christmas lately. Though the season of giving is drawing near, I’m afraid I’ll have to play the role of The Grinch when it comes to a UFC fight between Jake Ellenberger and Rory MacDonald. There was a lot of trash talking before the fight actually happened. In fact, Jake Ellenberger said that Rory MacDonald is “faker than the food he’s named after”. A guy with “berger” in his last name is making a fast food joke about someone named MacDonald. The irony is killing me, but not nearly as much as the boredom resonating from this god-awful fight.

　

***DRAWINGS***

Technically, the short story “Bleed For Weed” is a contemporary drama, not a dark fantasy story. It will be included in American Darkness 2: Black State, not Poison Tongue Tales. When I draw Riff De La Luka, can he really be considered a “dark fantasy warrior”? Of course he can, because I fucking said so!

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Women are always trying to make their men feel better about sex. ‘Oh, it’s not the size of the boat that matters; it’s the motion of the ocean.’ That may be true, but it’s hard to sail to England in a rowboat.”

-Jeff Foxworthy-

Sarah Tonin

NAME: Sarah Tonin
AGE: 23
OCCUPATION: Rebel Clown
CANON: The Macaroni & Ownage Project


The canon Macaroni & Ownage Project should sound familiar to anybody who read Makoto Lionheart’s profile. If you haven’t read it, go read it now on my Deviant Art account, Good Reads blog, or Garrison’s Library. You have to do some serious excavation to find it, but I’m not repeating everything I said about the canon in that profile. All you need to know that the MOP is a group of Juggalo-like clowns who rebel against a religious king named Rajim Kane and his demon giant Broken Soul.

One of the rebels for the cause is Sarah Tonin. Go ahead and laugh at the obvious pun, because that’s what was intended. I wanted a name that was a play on words for serotonin, the chemical in the brain that registers euphoria. Sarah, the actual character this word is based on, is anything but euphoric. In fact, she’s bat shit crazy and she’s carrying a wooden staff: not a good combination. People worry about the mentally ill obtaining guns and they should. But what you should really worry about is Sarah Tonin carrying a fucking staff. She can split your skull like a coconut, crack your ribs like crab legs, and blow out your knees to where you have to crawl from point A to point B.

Sarah doesn’t show much of her wild personality in the beginning of the movie script. In fact, she stays quiet while the other two surviving clowns, Lee Murdock and Makoto Lionheart, are constantly at each other’s throats. It’s when the three clowns join a martial arts tournament that things really begin to heat up. Sarah loses to a capoeira fighter named Sonny Fu in the quarterfinals and because she’s a sore loser, she beats the shit out of him in the locker room area. But here’s the million dollar question: though Sarah is the prime suspect in Sonny Fu’s hospitalization, is she really to be held responsible or should we take into account that she has multiple personalities as a result of a traumatic past?

Sarah eventually has to face the music when she takes a nap in the woods and finds herself in a different world brought on by psychosis, where she has to fight two warriors named Rowan Z and X King. The two warriors beat the shit out of her until she learns how to control her psychotic mind and returns the favor. She then wakes up from her traumatic nightmare when Lee and Makoto shake her body into consciousness. The whole thing was a fucking dream. Before you scream Deus Ex Machina, you have to know that Sarah Tonin might not have woken up from that dream. She could have died in her sleep and that would be the end of her. Yikes!

This whole time, Sarah, Lee, and Makoto have been traveling to an ancient temple where they were going to seek counseling from a clown sage, who supposedly has the answers on how to defeat Broken Soul. I say supposedly, because the sage’s advice sounds like a bunch of gibberish and jargon. When Broken Soul finally arrives, the three have no idea how to interpret the advice and Lee Murdock gets stepped on while trying to save Makoto’s life. The battle ends when a fourth clown, who was crucified by Rajim Kane, arrives to interpret the sage’s answer: just be your disgusting and creepy selves. Apparently, that advice was good enough for the nameless clown, Lee, and Makoto to finish the job and put an end to Rajim Kane’s reign of terror.

Does this sound like a credible story to you? Maybe after a few tweaks here and there, it could have been something great. But my money is on the fact that anything I’ve written before 2013 is beyond repair due to my lack of reading experience and unwillingness to listen to the critics who are trying to help me. So now Miss Tonin is in the unemployment line of my imagination. And yes, she will keep her name Sarah Tonin despite the fact that it’s an obvious punch line.

If you think Sarah Tonin’s name is a joke, listen to this. In my WIP psychological fantasy novel Watch You Burn, Mario Bryan’s ex-girlfriend is named Terri. For the longest time, she hasn’t been assigned a last name…until now. Her last name is…Bull. If you’re going to call her Terri Bullshit, you’ve got the wrong punch line I mind. Just Terri Bull will be good enough. Now say her full name really fast and you get…”terrible”! Hahahahaha! Oh, that’s so funny! But trust me, Terri Bull and Sarah Tonin have nothing in common with each other. One of them is a crazy bitch who will beat you to death with a wooden stick…and the other is a rebel clown.

　

***MOVIE QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Look, I don’t mind people snickering at the stupid uniform I have to wear, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some self-righteous lucky turd come over here and treat me and Dante like we’re a couple of fucking porch monkeys!”

-Randal Graves from “Clerks II”-