#adult fiction
How to Walk Away &Things You Save in a Fire
by Katherine Center
I have long believed that you have to be in the mood to read a certain type of book. Like with any relationship, the timing must be right, otherwise, you won’t be open to the writing voice/style/ content. Hot tea doesn’t quench every thirst and sushi doesn’t sate every palate. It’s possible Katherine Center’s books are the exception to that rule.
In content, the ironically and aptly titled How to Walk AwayandThings to Save in a Fire, are vastly different. How to Walk Away follows a lovelorn protagonist as she suffers quite immediately from a tragic accident throughout her complicated recovery; Things to Save in a Fire follows a stoic firefighter as she navigates a new bro-filled New England landscape.
In style, Center manages to create reading experiences that are simple without being simplistic and heart-warming without being heart-cloying. In short, they are satisfying reads - well crafted with personal triumph at the center, padded with bits of romance, conflict and existential crisis. The books are well-written, practically paced, bittersweet and fluid and with enough complication to keep the pages turning. And what’s particularly gratifying about these books is that the happy endings are not necessarily what you’d expect.
Things You Save in a Fire will be released August 2019, but you can grab a copy of How to Walk Away now. In fact, I just saw it on sale in Barnes & Noble.
It’s refreshing to know that there are books out there that are enjoyable no matter what the season. Like iced tea - a little sweet, a little tart, but extremely satisfying whenever you are thirsty for something tasty.
*B3 would like to thank St. Martin’s Press for the ARCs!
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An Excess Male
by Maggie Shen King
Imagine a world where you could only have one child. Where adult men significantly outnumber adult women to the point that a quarter of men are forced into bachelorhood. Where there are penalties for multiple children, homosexuality, large dogs, and defying the government.
Perhaps the scariest part of it all is: you don’t have to imagine at all.
Fact: China’s one-child policy was introduced in 1979 and was only altered in 2016. While some argue the family planning initiative had its desired effect of decreasing population growth, others argue that the population growth would have slowed naturally anyway. The “excess” consequences of the policy however, resulted in the abortion and abandonment of less-desirable girls and an aging population of “excess” men. Not to mention the surplus of second and third children who were not recognized by the state as citizens. Parents discovered to have more than one child were often dismissed from work and heavily fined. Many unregistered children still exist who are unable to obtain an education or even ID. (For more information, check out this news story from Time:http://time.com/4598999/china-one-child-policy-family-planning/)
That is the nonfiction part.
Enter Maggie Shen King’s addictive novel An Excess Male where we meet 40-something bachelor Wei-guo who has just become eligible for matchmaking services. With such a disproportionate number of males, the policy of Family Advancement has been introduced, and each woman may marry three men, and mother three children, one from each. Wei-guo, escorted by his two fathers (the product of such an “advanced” household) meets May-ling, her two peculiar husbands - who are incidentally brothers - and their irascible son, Bei-Bei. So ensues a very unique courtship under the watchful eye of an ever-imposing government.
Told from four alternating and enjoyably distinctive perspectives, it’s part sci-fi, part love story, part bromance, part thriller. Don’t be fooled by its seeming domestic trappings. There is a Middle Kingdom real life battle club for bachelors, an anti-social brilliant hacker, and a highly secretive underground gay circuit. In fact, two-thirds of the way through, King’s twists so jolted me I reread the page and stayed up until the wee hours to learn Wei-guo’s fate.
That is the fiction part.
The problem is: they aren’t so far apart.
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The First Bad Man
by Miranda July
I lied to Miranda July. I didn’t intend to, but there you have it.
The First Bad Man was released September 8, 2015. I read it within 48 hours of release and soon after attended an evening at BAM featuring writer/actress/filmmaker/app creator extraordinaire Miranda July interviewed by writer/actress/director extraordinaire Lena Dunham. Both irreverently funny, unapologetically observant and quirkily blunt, it was an evening of understated wit and hallmark vulnerability followed by a book signing by July. Dunham wasn’t present at said book-signing, so I didn’t have the opportunity to lie to her.
The aforementioned lie occurred as July signed an edition of No One Belongs Here More than You to my Aunt for her birthday: I mentioned to her that I was going to feature The First Bad Man on my book blog later that week and to look out for it. Then in the most exacerbated case of procrastination of my life, two and a half years later I’m still carrying the guilt of falsifying to one of my creative paragons.
Today while trolling my files attempting to discover if I even started the review, I happened upon the Pressbook for July’s film The Future. (Why was this even on my computer? I have no idea. I’d like to think July has magical creative powers that drop files on your computer when you need them.) In an interview there, she captures my sentiments: “I just felt so incapable, barely even human, much less brilliant. So I told myself, ‘OK, write from there. What does Incapable sound like?’”
I guess it sounds like this. This whole sordid affair stems from the fact that nothing I pen will encapsulate the ingenuity, the transdimensional artistry of The First Bad Man. It is darkly comical, startlingly salacious, and unavoidably messy, but it is also replete with pathos, with insight, with humanity.
The story centers on Cheryl, an intransigent forty-something who eats from one plate and uses one glass, as she is saddled with the pregnant daughter of her boss, a destructive young woman who throws her life into turmoil.
I just picked up the book to reread highlighted passages, and I found myself laughing out loud. How can I communicate the hilarity that is Cheryl explaining the origin of inter-office rules as based on a series of Japanese customs or the curious sense of meditation she later discovers riding an ATV? How can I articulate the risqué encounters at the center of the book, tropes emblematic of July’s writing that force us all to face our darkest selves?
The truth is that nothing I write to recommend this book will be enough to truly reflect what’s inside its twisty pages. In her writing July implants thoughts that you yourself didn’t know you were capable of entertaining. Her phrases herald a primal reckoning, a stripping away of the constant apology that accompanies being a sexual being, and a melting of the outer shell that protects our most vulnerable parts. Leaving - what? Whatever is left after all of the layers have been peeled away: the gooey center, the amorphous essence of what it is to be human.
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⚠️MDNISlight dübc0ñ. Reader neutral friendly. Think of any guy you want!
IMAGINE his rough, curved fingers knuckle-deep in you, rubbing your sweet spot and slowly milking out each yearning moan from your quivering lips. Your hips buck against his palm for more friction but he holds you down and gazes at the frustrated tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You wanted to beg so bad but you remembered his strict rule:
‘One word out of your pretty mouth and there would be consequences’.
You didn’t want to agree to some unfair, bullshit demand he hung over your head but between him looking at you with those alluring, dominating eyes to suddenly bending you over the bed and pinning you in place…well, there wasn’t much for you to protest.
What’s worse was when he took out some rope and tied your wrists to the headboard knowing fully well that at this point there was no going back on this.
He always had this secret side to him that no one knew. This dark, seductive side that hid itself in his true intentions and you hated how it could bring you to your knees in less than 2 seconds.
You were strong but…he knew he could get what he wanted…and what he wanted was to play with your beautiful body until he had you right where he wanted you…
…and when you least expect it?
He’d hold you down and claim you all fucking night if he had to so he could get it though your head that he was the one in control of you.
So far, it looked like he was proving his point.
All you could do was pant like a bitch in heat and try to grasp on the little bit of willpower you had left. You were trying to be strong and not give in but…then his slick tongue licked up your wet, throbbing sex and you couldn’t hold back any longer. You moaned his name loudly and rocked your hips against his talented fingers and tongue.
You didn’t fucking care anymore, you wanted him. You needed him to use his mouth on you, to explore your body with his hands and to fill you up with his rock-hard cock till you couldn’t stop craving him inside of you. But…
Right when you were willing to give in to his tantalizing touches…the pleasurable feeling suddenly dissipated.
Your eyes shot open with a concerned, slightly distraught urge. Why was he-?
He hovered over your body with a small smirk playing on his handsome face, a knowing, sadistic secret etched into it. Your breath quickened and you bit your bottom lip.
“I told you not to say a single damnword,didn’tI?”
You focused on your juices glistening off his mouth and chin from when he went down on you and it made it really hard to concentrate.
Why did he have to tease you like this? Just play with you like his doll. You couldn’t even fucking touch him. The rope wrung achingly around your wrists and you could tell already how much that turned him on. Was there more to what this man was hiding from you? More to uncover and be victimto?
“Look at me when I’m speaking to you!” his voice commanding and impatient made you quickly shift back to staring deep in his eyes.
That was a bigmistake.
The vibrant rings of his irises only shielded the darkness tucked away behind them and that other side was pulling you in…trapping you even.
You were speechless…you really were his slave to control. No matter how much you’d fight he’d always get the upper hand.
Before you could apologize a cry ripped out of you and the tears you guarded back earlier slid shamefully down your cheeks.
You had forgotten his long, powerful fingers were still sheathed deep inside you…a truth you were now fully paying attention to as soon as he started pumping mercilessly into you with no warning.
You squirmed and arched against him, which he then buried his face in your shoulder and bit down hard unexpectedly. You howled and begged but for what were you begging for you didn’t know.
This man was splitting your head in two and driving you insane! You wanted him to stop putting you under his spell but you also wanted him to fuck the life out of you. What was he doing to you?
Almost reading your mind, he unlatched his teeth from your shoulder and gave the bruised flesh a flat, long lick.
“It’s your punishment for disobeying me. Now fucking take it like the good little brat you are!” The last part of his sentence drawled out in a growl and without a second thought he sunk his fingers deeper, pounding harshly in you at a near impossible pace. Every time he finger fucked you he didn’t miss either, he made sure to hit that sensitive spot of nerves nested deep within you that had you out of your mind…and at this point you were sure acting like it.
Your body twisted and convulsed against your doing, crying out in pleasure and a some pain. You fought against the ropes but it was no use and before you could beg for forgiveness a heated and intense pressure quickly started to build in the bottom of your pelvis.
In a last effort to securely keep you under him he wrapped his other hand around your throat and squeezed, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Oh, he was definitely enjoying this. You knew all too well this is what he wanted and whether you were prepared or not you were going to give him everything he desired. He would make sure of it.
Your eyebrows furrowed and your legs shook uncontrollably. Fuck! You could barely breath properly with his hand around your throat. You could swear you could see stars with the little oxygen he allowed you to have. Not only that, but he managed to take charge over your body and rub you in allthe right places.
Dammit, You couldn’t hold on any longer.
You brokenly screamed out his name as you spasmed around his fingers, your orgasm erupting through your whole body. Gasps after breathless moans poured out of you as you kept coming and he didn’t let you stop. He stroked your sweet spot with more pressure than before fully intending on you riding this out to the end. He loved how dazed and weak you looked under him…and it was all because of him.
Just look at your body…Flushed, drained and covered with a sheen of sweat. You could hardly even speak but he liked that. The thought of what else he could do to you now that you were vulnerable went straight to his throbbing, needy cock.
Your chest rose and collapsed through the heaviness of your breathing, your mind trying to keep up with reality. You could barely think with your juices still dripping down between your legs. God, if his fingers could do that to you then what about his-
Coming down slowly from your high, you realized he swooped down and captured your left nipple in his mouth. A raspy moan escaped from your abused throat while he sucked greedily. He ceased the choking and slid his digits out of you, his fingers soaked completely.
But oh no, he wasn’t done with you yet…
He swiftly undid his pants and pressed his thick arousal against your inner thigh. You instantly tensed at the violating touch.
Before you could protest he let go of your nipple and shoved something between your teeth, tying whatever cloth it was around to the back of your head. You whimpered and tried to move away but you were still too exhausted to fight back against him. He skillfully pushed you down by your waist and held you in place with a predatory glare piercing through whatever stubbornness you had left.
“First you disobey me and now you’re trying to get away?”
A deep, intoxicating chuckle rumbled from his sculpted chest as he indulged in the fright swirling in your eyes now. It was so delicious…
“Its time to teach you your place…and I fully intend to fuck some sense into you.”
You whimpered and tried to close your legs. However, he was not having ANY of it.
An animalistic growl seethed behind his teeth as he dung his blunt fingernails into your knees and ripped them far apart. He licked his lips and drunk in the irresistible sight before him. Ah, well would you look at how beautiful you were when you weren’t hiding your naked body…
Fuck, he had to take you. NOW.
“Sorry, babe…I can’t wait anymore…” his smirk grew into an sinful, demented grin.
“Ineed to make you MINE.”
:)
Now, who did you think of?
Continue?
I feel so frightened of being hurt — not of the suffering, which I know I can handle, but the indignity of the suffering, the indignity of being open to it.
—Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You.
And by now you can only look at me with pity - not with love or friendship but just pity, like I’m something half-dead lying on the roadside and the kindest thing would be to put me out of my misery.
—Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You.
Maybe eventually we will just drop out of each other’s lives, or become friends after all, or something else. But whatever happens will at least be the result of this experiment, which feels at times like it’s going badly wrong, and at other times feels like the only kind of relationship worth having.
Sally Rooney, Beautiful World Where Are You.
