Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Personal Demon released TODAY!

Freya's Bower has released Personal Demon!

I'm so excited!

Temptation in an alb…

Those of the most devout faith face private struggles. When the man inside the priest fights carnal desires, the priest can only pray he has the inner fortitude to resist. Eve succumbed to the serpent. Adam succumbed to the apple. Now, Father Blake Krey stands in a private Garden of Eden, tempted by his own Personal Demon.

Genre: M/M Contemporary

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Attention fellow priest fetishists!

I have an author’s page at Freya’s Bower! I’ve submitted a bio, but it’s not posted yet.

And what’s this? A RELEASE DATE?!?


When I woke up this morning, I KNEW it was going to be a great day! I love these types of surprises in my inbox.

Oh, sorry...I should be doing this all professionally and stuff.

*straightens collar*
*fluffs hair*

Coming November 18th, 2008 from Freya’s Bower: Personal Demon by I.M. Cupnjava


Temptation in an alb…

Those of the most devout faith face private struggles. When the man inside the priest fights carnal desires, the priest can only pray he has the inner fortitude to resist. Eve succumbed to the serpent. Adam succumbed to the apple. Now, Father Blake Krey stands in a private Garden of Eden tempted by his own Personal Demon.

One excerpt is available on the website, but there’s another one I’m posting right here.


The water rained down and plastered his shaggy blond hair to his face. Lingering hair paste entered his mouth, putting a bitter tinge upon his tongue. He looked up and asked the water to cleanse him. He hoped its purity might find a way into his soul.

He begged.
He pleaded.
He prayed.
He failed.

Succumbing to the lust, he grabbed his cock like a grudge. Unable to face his Lord, he fell forward and braced himself with one hand, genuflecting out of weakness and shame while abusing himself, molesting himself, and living in the filth of lust.

His personal demon slithered about his neck, took hold of him, and jerked him upright. Water splashed against his chest as his fingers curled the rondure of his scrotum. He knew the furtive beast watched him while it waited to strike. The snake offered the apple. Powerless to resist, he snatched it.

His thighs shuddered. His stomach quivered. Pressure spiked inside of him and streaked from his flesh grudge. He thrust himself forward and crashed against the floor as sin and an orgasm devoured him. His seed mingled with the swirling water and flowed into the bottomless darkness of the drain.

The serpent slithered away, leaving shame in its tracks as he, twitching and tingling, lay impuissant on the floor of the shower. He tried to gather his senses, but his mind remained distant. He tried to control his limbs, but his arms and legs defied him.

The water didn’t wash away any of the sin. The perfidy of his actions crushed him against the floor. He lay there until it ran cold and his muscles trembled from chill and the need for repentance. Bearing upon the walls for support, he pulled himself to his feet. Soap and shampoo lent themselves to free his skin of lingering filth.

If he couldn’t be clean, he could at least look clean.

He dried himself while staring at the mirror. Each blink, admonishment. Each swipe of the towel, condemnation. Would he ever be freed of this?

He dressed and found his collar on the floor. As he exited the rectory, he hoped he would find the strength to face his flock.

End excerpt.

Oh yes, it’s like that. It’s one very kinky story with some elements of S&M, candle play, and all sorts of other goodies. If you get the chance to read it, I hope you enjoy it.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Who let this dust settle?!

*dusts off blogspot*

Man, I’ve been neglecting this thing. First let me apologize for my long leave of absence. This past year has been full of ups and downs.

When Chippewa closed, orphaning my titles, I took that badly. Here, I had my dream. I had the publishing contract in hand. I had an editor who I adored. I had a title released and it was performing very well. I still haven’t seen any royalties from those sales and I probably never will. I weathered a divorce, health issues, and personal problems/drama.

Depression is a lurking opportunistic predator and I will admit that I’ve been fighting with it. Everyday things such as checking my LJ, other author boards, myspace and many others lost their appeal. I started titles and couldn’t get the gumption to continue them. It seemed the harder I reached down inside of myself to self-motivate, the further that motivation slipped from my grasp. The stories still ran through my head, but I couldn’t manage to get my fingers moving. It’s hard to market my work when I don’t have any work to market. I made excuses, grew soft on myself, and fell into that glorious time-sucker World of Warcrack...I mean...Warcraft.

During this lull in my writing career, I took some time to do some personal soul searching. Yes, I conducted some heavy research for About to Sin, but I found myself facing deeper questions about myself. I walked a few labyrinths, mediated, prayed, drummed, danced under the moonlight, and danced with fire. I received the most powerful compliment of my life from an elderly Roman Catholic priest. He said, “Never have I met someone who so tenaciously seeks deeper meaning in all that we do in life.” Then, he told me he loved me and reached up from his wheelchair and hugged me. I read a quote posted inside the library of a convent, “How glorious a gift to know who we are when we aren’t being who others need us to be.” I was told by a young Old Catholic priest, “Your writing is your ministry.”

How very humbling.

Each one of those adjusted my life’s focal point and further reminded me that I am who I am. I’ll never be anything more or anything less than that. I am, deep down inside, an author.

The feel of a keyboard beneath my fingers, the clack of the keys, the banging of my head against a wall trying to understand editorial direction, and the thrill of submission hell are what makes my heart pound and my eyes twinkle.

Puffmonkey came home from a convention where she purchased some very hot posters of Hakkai, Youkai Hakkai, and Gojyo from a gloriously talented artist, Kaysha Siemens. Her Deviant Art page. She’d heard of me and that blew me away.

With the support of my friends and family (albeit stressed support at times), I once again picked love over money.

While fighting the tail end of this depression, Freya’s Bower and Alessia Brio (with Phaze) stepped in and accepted my orphaned titles as well as a new title. That helped a little. It made me feel as if I could once again have my dream and I promptly killed another keyboard.

It felt wonderful to have edits again. The vibe of life that surrounds me when I finish a round of edits is a drug. A very addictive drug. Second only to the almost overwhelming hum of energy and life that comes with finishing the writing phase of a novel. A moment of seemingly perfect clarity that makes me feel as if the world is once again a beautiful place.

Today, I saw the cover for Personal Demon. I read through the ARC (advanced reader copy). It’s a small title…too small for an ISBN. But, it’s something. It’s something that will be out there with my name on it. When I get a release date and the stamp of approval on the blurb and excerpt, I’ll post it. I went by Barnes and Noble and checked on “Coming Together: With Pride” and they’ve sold out of their copies including the ones in the warehouse and are waiting on the publisher/distributor for more. That’s something too.

Also today, I opened my LiveJournal and looked at my f-list. Not everyone on my f-list has read my work, but many of you have. You willingly gave my stories some of your free time. You’ve encouraged me. You’ve cried with me and cheered with me. And remembering all of that has been a most humbling and healing moment.

There’s a light rain today. Fall leaves dot my yard. Rascal is curled up on his pillow by the window, sleeping quite soundly. I am an author...

...and I’m back.