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In this scandalous episode of The Book Fix, Yajaira and Cheli dive into Priest by Sierra Simone, a provocative romance that had them sweating. The book follows Father Tyler Anselm Bell, a 29-year-old Catholic priest whose life of devotion and control unravels when he meets Poppy, a woman seeking guidance but ultimately becoming his temptation. The hosts break down Tyler's lack of inner turmoil as he tries to reconcile his spiritual vows with the intense, undeniable pull he feels toward Poppy. Join the besties as they discuss whether or not they would recommend this spicy forbidden romance! Support the showOur Linktree: https://linktr.ee/thebookfix?utm_source=linktree_admin_sharebecome our Patron ♡ https://www.patreon.com/BookFixbuy us a book ♡ https://www.buymeacoffee.com/thebookfixBusiness Inquiries: thebookfixpodcast@gmail.comfollow us on Tiktok! ♡ https://www.tiktok.com/@thebookfix
RORY!! HOLY HELL, Drive Family-Rory Did it! An Augusta Trip we Will NOT Forget, AND-Stoerner the Hall of Famer LFG! full 1021 Mon, 14 Apr 2025 22:48:03 +0000 5gQeKDBznyEoxQYmJBuck00Tbs6dBHeG the masters,bryson dechambeau,augusta,justin rose,arkansas razorbacks,arkansas football,rory mcllroy,stoerner,sports The Drive with Stoerner and Hughley the masters,bryson dechambeau,augusta,justin rose,arkansas razorbacks,arkansas football,rory mcllroy,stoerner,sports RORY!! HOLY HELL, Drive Family-Rory Did it! An Augusta Trip we Will NOT Forget, AND-Stoerner the Hall of Famer LFG! 2-6PM M-F 2024 © 2021 Audacy, Inc. Sports False
Vincent, Buffy and other family matter.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. It is selfish to believe that your family will always love you. At some point you will be asked to earn it The main front was stabilizing. The 2nd Army was in tough shape though all three divisions were still in the fight. The 1st Army's 2nd and 9th Divisions had corked up the advances out of Cambodia. As soon as night fell, they would maneuver the majority of the 2nd Division to crush the Alliance forces north of Bangkok. The rioters would be crushed tomorrow morning. They would survive.This realization came too late to them. The rot of fear had infected the 1st Army, 1st Division and the police force commands. Of more importance, a small group of secretive individuals convinced two senior Thai officers that something had to be done before the city fell, or the Prime Minister reasserted control over the city.Those two conspirators had the same problem as the Loyalists, enemy troops and protestors in the street. Those officers had no way to contact the crucial enemy commanders, but they knew who did, the Indian Navy. Surreptitiously, they contacted the Indian Navy's Expeditionary Fleet. The fleet's Admiral quickly put them in touch with the Alliance Command Authority and within two hours, a deal was made.The Great Khan would stop the Alliance offensive if the King of Thailand made a public appeal, no strings attached. This new group of rebels and the Alliance worked out the path they needed to take to reach the King so that the Alliance forces were out of the way and no planes, or helicopter attacked their formations. They even had a TV station that would broadcast the King's speech ending the conflict. All they needed was nightfall.And that was the true story of how the counter-coup was pulled off, how the King of Thailand was able to talk to the Great Khan and how the Thai government was overthrown. In the final analysis, the Loyalist hadn't fallen before the might of the Alliance. They were done in by a tiny number of Black Lotus operative almost no one knew existed, with a small amount of assistance from JIKIT."No wonder the Seven Pillars has never been able to wipe out these guys," Addison yawned. "They are slippery as eels and thrice as lethal. I am glad they are on our side." Several sets of eyes looked at her skeptically. "I mean, I am glad we are currently working toward the same goals."Thus,"I suggest we all get some sleep," Addison declared as she stood up and stretched.Odette was comfortably asleep, so I curled her up and carried her to the elevator. I wanted to go home and forget that I had lost any semblance of a normal life. I didn't know what was worse; me doing the shit I was doing, or me understanding what I was doing. Juanita had gone down ahead of us to pull the car around to the front.Chaz, Pamela, Odette and I went down in the first wave of the exodus from the workplace. The door opened on the ground floor. I wasn't the first person to notice her. My reflexes had improved to the point I had a moment to recognize her before the people around me sprang into action.Pamela side-stepped to the right, pistol mystically appearing in her two-hand grip. Chaz, Chaz bore Odette and me to the ground. His level of dedication astonished me. He was shielding us with his body. From what, I hadn't been able to determine."Deadman switch," one of my aunts stated. "I want to talk with Cáel." The voice had a stressed tenor to it."Back outside," Pamela simmered."No.""Chaz, what is going on?" I asked him. He hadn't moved and wasn't letting me wiggle around to see."Explosive vest," he responded coolly. That's right. Chaz was shielding Odette and me with his body.That is what I found astonishing, his desire to give his life for me. His expectation that Pamela could kill the threat while he was currently occupied was understandable."We seem to be at an impasse," Pamela edged further away.She wasn't avoiding the blast radius. That was impossible in this lobby. No, if it came to firing, she was making it easier for Chaz to get a shot off since the shooter couldn't cover both angles of attack."Let me talk to him," my aunt insisted. This made no sense."Chaz, let me deal with this," I told my bodyguard."Are you sure?" he questioned."Not really. As Pamela said, she's not going to let any of us leave until she talks to me and if you kill her, she kills all of you." Chaz let me stand.Odette was just awakening to the threat. Chaz rose to stand by my side. (Sadly, Odette didn't rate him dying for her.) I prayed I didn't fuck this up."Cáel, is that really you?" the women with green eyes and red hair asked me. She sounded desperate, which would explain the suicide vest."Yeah, which one are, Mom?"{9:10 pm, Tuesday, September 2nd ~ 6 Days to go}"Yes, I'm Sibeal. Are you my son?""Do you mean No! Grandfather Cáel hasn't supplanted my spirit with his own," I took a deep breath. "I'm not sure how I can convince you of this.""Do you miss your Father?" she queried."Yes," I murmured."Ahh Cáel, you are still my son. Thank all that is divine," she sighed."Care to deactivate the vest now?" Pamela suggested."Do you promise not to shoot me? You two, and the one sneaking up on me from behind." She meant Juanita, who had sensed the danger and exited the car."You are three kinds of crazy, so I'm not making any guarantees," Pamela answered."Pamela Chaz, I really think she is my mother. And I assume she is here to kill Cáel O'Shea, not me," I interjected. I still wasn't leaving Chaz' side. "Please don't kill her.""No guarantees," Chaz affirmed."She's his mother," Odette chimed in. "If it was anyone else, they would be in a cloud of bodyguards, not alone.""Here is the deal, Mom. You deactivate the vest, then we will talk. Otherwise, I'm taking my security's advice and backing the fuck out of here.""Okay," she nodded. "It's a fake. I'm upset, but not enough to be suicidal. I wanted to see what you would do. Father would have sacrificed everyone else. You got tackled and you obeyed the man who was trying to save your life.""Chaz, what do you think?" Pamela asked him."We could hold her here until Virginia shows up. That would give Cáel a few minutes to reminisce before she gets dragged off to the looney bin." (That would, of course, lead to her death while in Federal custody so that wasn't happening, period.)"I concur," Pamela agreed. She still had her gun out and aimed. She went to a one-handed grip so she could motion Juanita to come inside.I took the opportunity to walk around Chaz, though I only advanced half way."I think it is asking too much from my bodyguards to walk up to you with that vest lying at your feet," I pointed. "You know just in case you are lying." She nodded, smiled and came forward. A hug was in the offing. I almost missed Odette coming up behind me."I'm on a timetable," Mom murmured into my shoulder. "You know why.""I am afraid I do," (my pheromones were already affecting her). "What brought this on? How long can you stay?""The kidnapping made it imperative. But this has been my first opportunity to get close enough to you to determine if my father had won, or not," she confessed."I'm not sure how long I can remain ~ maybe a day, or three. I have heard you have an upcoming ordeal you must go through for your Amazons." Odette again by way of Delilah. I decided to give Delilah the benefit of the doubt and just accept that she did what she did because she was worried about me."Oh. Mom, this is Odette Sievert, my roommate and all-around better friend than I deserve." Odette extended her hand. Mom reached past me and shook it."Nice to finally meet you in person," Mom smiled."Nice to realize you aren't as nutty as the rest of the bunch,and considering you came at Pamela and Chaz with a fake suicide vest that is saying something," Odette grinned."My son is all I have left of Ferko (my dad)," she grew grim. "If my father stole him after killing my husband I wouldn't know how to carry on.""Aaahh," Odette stammered through this tense family moment. "You are about to be a grandmother in a serious way," she tried to turn things around. "How does a dozen grandkids sound?"Operational security and secret information were concepts Odette was aware of. She simply refused to use either one."Really?" Mom looked from Odette to me. "How serious?""How about we get out of here before the FBI shows up," I began directing my mom out the doors."Cáel?" Chaz questioned."Hey now, I never agreed to hand my mom over to Virginia. The vest was fake. Let's not dwell on this," I urged Mom and Odette out the door."Ishara," Juanita repeatedly prayed, "why do you test me so?"Chaz and Pamela showed their faith in me and my decision-making ability by tagging along. For me, what does a son who hasn't spent any time with his mother since he was seven (because she was supposedly dead for the past fifteen years) ask first?Actually, we waited for Chaz, who had the presence of mind to ensure the vest was truly a dud and then called Virginia so she could clean up one of my messes yet again."Thank you, Color Sergeant," Mom looked toward Chaz as the GL 550 pulled away from One Mi Ma1 Tower. Unfortunately, the look he sent her way wasn't friendly."Thanks for reminding me," I nodded to Mom. "Chaz, what in the Hell possessed you to jump on Odette and me? I appreciate it,""Me too," Odette chimed in."But please don't do that ever again. Of all the, let's just say I have too many deaths of people I like on my mind. I don't want you added to that list.""Tough.""Well, thanks for considering my request," I groaned."Chaz, three nights ago our boy learned that one of the women he knocked up is going to die and no one will intervene to save her life and they won't tell him where she is," Pamela let him know."Who do we talk to?" he asked me. By 'talk' I assumed he meant torture until they coughed up a viable location/suspect."The Goddess Ishara.""Fuck. I apologize, Cáel. That is hard news for a young man like you to take. As for my jumping on you suck it up. It is my job to make sure you can do yours.""Juanita," Pamela called out. "Stop driving to Havenstone. Take us back to Cáel's place. He won't let the Amazons take his mother, which means I won't let them, which means Chaz won't let them. Besides, Odette could get killed in the cross-fire and too many people like her for that to be safe for any would-be assassin.""Really?" Odette perked up. Of course she wasn't worried about being killed. Odette was fascinated that people found her valuable enough to kill anyone who killed her. She'd more fully grasp that curse later on. She was a genuinely nice person. What Pamela left unsaid was that if 'people' thought someone might kill Odette, they would 'proactively' protect her. Too many people she now hung out with were of that stripe of crazy."Pamela, would you miss me if I got killed?" Odette turned to the most dangerous person in the car. (I didn't think Mom was in her league, but then I had never seen her fight, so I was keeping an open mind.)"You bet your ass, Baby-cakes," she grinned at my super-kind sidekick."Me too," Chaz added gruffly. "Of greater importance, Addison would take umbrage. Next to Ms. Love, she's the nastiest bitch I've ever met." He meant that as a compliment."Not Lady Yum I meant Worthington-Burke?" I inquired."She doesn't take things personally. She'd miss Odette, but not enough to move off-mission," Chaz explained."Let's not forget Buffy," Pamela snorted. "What she lacks in experience she makes up for by being totally psychotic and fanatically loyal to Wakko here. People who piss him off tend to end up as a place holder on the Obituary page.""Unless they never find the bodies," Juanita commented from her personal experience disposing of people for me. Groan."Cáel, I am so happy I met you," Odette hugged my arm. "My life was going nowhere before you gave me your phone number. Now, I know my life is at risk and I don't care. Being with you has been more wonderful than I ever thought possible."Mom was studying me, both pleased and worried."What?" I asked."You have a lot of your grandfather in you. He did have a gift for inspiring the best out of people. You are like your father in that you care for those people caring for both their lives and their happiness. Your father inspired that same kind of loyalty because he kept the needs of his people in the forefront of his mind.""Dad was like Grandpa?" I worried."Hell no." That was Pamela."Thank the Divine, no," Mom exhaled at the same time. "How do you know my father?""I killed him," Pamela grinned."You were the one? I'm, I don't know what to think," Mom murmured."Keep that in mind before you try to pull another stunt like you did tonight," Pamela's grin grew feral."Pamela is the best Grandmother I could ever hope for," I explained."Spiritually speaking," Odette tried to lighten the mood (she was a cracker-jack morale officer). "Otherwise it would make Cáel's having sex with her granddaughters rather, suspect.""Odette, you can say 'incestuous'," Mom gave a half-grin. "Do you know much about my family?""Your Pa created you and your sisters to be fuck-toys who also ran errands for him," Odette nodded. "They are all loonies.""Don't share that view with them," Mom cautioned. "When we last met, they had a highly under-developed sense of humor and a well-cultivated mean streak.""Gotcha," Odette giggled. "After dealing with the Slayers of Testicles numbers 1 & 2, I have learned what kind of wacky girls Cáel attracts without even trying.""I really should make sure Mr. Fiennes is okay," I reminded myself."You would do better catching up with that girl down the hall. The Korean takeout girl also asked about you", offered Odette. Yeah, the girl in 3-F baked me some cookies when Dad was murdered."How many grandchildren are we talking about?" Mom looked at me with some serious maternal affection."Who are the Slayers of Testicles?" Juanita wanted to know. My family jewels belonged to House Ishara at least in her and her sisters' estimation."Oneida's bodyguards," Odette let slip out before she saw the warning look in my eyes."You are sleeping with the apprentice of House Arinniti?" gasped Juanita I was hoping her questioning wasn't hurting her driving. "What about the 84 day rule?""I'd better not bring up Rhada," Odette nodded thoughtfully."I'm going to spank you," I growled at Odette."Was that aimed at me?" Juanita."Yippee, and we are going home now, too!" Odette squealed."Not you, Juanita Odette. I want to teach her how to 'not say' whatever pops up in her head," I grumbled."You promised to punish me!" she beamed brightly. "Punish me! Punish me!""Uuuuuuu," I beat my cranium against the headrest in front of me."I thought she was the 'nice' girl," Mom chided me."She was," Pamela smirked. "Unfortunately, she's been totally corrupted by your son.""Yep," Odette agreed. "He's opened up a whole new horizon of things sexual for me.""Son, how many women are you seeing? I thought you were engaged." Mom."Uuuuuuu," I repeated."I'll take care of this," Chaz intervened calmly. "He is as loyal as he can be within the bounds of his limited moral arsenal to Hana Sulkanen. So he is sexually and romantically involved with Brooke Lee and Libra Chalmers, civilians he met through contacts at Havenstone. There is Anais Saint-Armour, RCMP, who departed this weekend,""She'll be back," Pamela assured Mom. "They always come back at least once.""Who has only come back just once?" Chaz laconically questioned Pamela."Good point," Pamela acceded. "They keep coming back until he changes the locks, his phone number and address." That made no sense,"I am glad you two are my friends," I groused. "I'd hate to think what you would say about me if you hated me.""You're welcome," Pamela grinned."Ms. Marla Chalmers," Chaz continued without missing a beat, "Libra's younger sibling, who your son indubitably impressed while in college; three teachers at an exclusive school, he met them while body-guarding a group of children; an assistant manager of a hotel he stayed at; six attractive, college-educated European young women,""Don't forget the Macedonian!" Pamela interjected."I have removed her from the list because she has no reliable way to hunt down our boy," he explained."Good point," Pamela nodded."They like busting your chops, don't they?" Mom smiled."As opposed to physically busting my chops this I can live with.""You have matured nicely. Your father would be very pleased quietly, of course.""Thank you Mom." She knew the man better than I ever would."We won't count the 189 Amazons who have staked a claim to him for the next nine days," Chaz added."What! 189? When did that happen?""The thirty huntresses and the 159 members of House Ishara," Pamela clued me in."159? When did that happen?" I gasped again. I was repeating myself not good. I knew I had told Buffy to 'keep up the good work', but still, House Ishara wasn't even two months old yet."They are the best of the roughly 20,000 Runners in the Host and thus, all are serious bad-ass bitches," Pamela assured me. "I think Helena would like you to explore a few more heroic Runners who have since passed.""Passed?" Mom."Cáel sees dead people," Odette beamed."So does his Aunt Baibre," Mom said."Met her, came off a bit, off," I confirmed."That's Baibre. What other ones have you met, besides Deidre and Brianna?"She was asking if I had met others outside of Delilah's watchful eye."Hmm, Imogen, Kelly and Matilda.""Okay. You haven't met the bad ones yet," Mom nodded. I was stunned yet again. Not by what Mom said, but by,"The 'bad ones'?" Pamela inquired. "They come in shades worse than Kelly and Matilda?""I'm with you on that. Those two were unsettling," Chaz agreed. Holy Shit! Pamela and Chaz were agreeing that two of my aunts had them worried on a tactical level. So 'not good' for me, since I couldn't take either of my friends. Bad-bad."Fiona is the worst. She is the second youngest of my generation and by far the most lethal. She was Father's pet.""Oh joy," I sighed."Is she bulletproof?" Chaz inquired."Not quite, but she is definitely hard to kill. She has a greater share of Alal while remaining sane.""Oh, she's the sane one?" Juanita joined in."On that side of his family, sane is a relative term." Thanks, Odette."Relative to how far your cock is into them?" Pamela snorted."Hold on now," I interrupted the jocularity. "What do you mean 'your generation' 'the second youngest' what happened to the youngest and when you say 'worst', define 'worst'."Pamela's phone rang."Father created three generations of daughters and sons. Carrig was the 'success' on the male side of the equation."Uncle Lumpy was the 'success'? What had the other uncles been like idiot cyclops cannibals?"He destroyed all the rest.""Please clarify," Chaz studied my mother. "Your father murdered his own children?""Yes. All but one of the 36 sons. He kept Carrig around as a reminder to not create any more sons. The first generation of daughters were all 'failures'.""You mean dead?" Odette gulped."Yes dead now, though he viewed all of us as property, not human beings.""Consider Grandad's low opinion of humanity, that's extra tragic," I put an arm around Odette. Pamela was muffling her conversation."Of the second generation of daughters, only Aunt Faoiltiama was kept around. I always had the impression her soul wasn't entirely human. She is rather primitive and predatory. A less horrifically unbalanced Carrig physically that is. Carrig was somewhat more erudite.""Wow, I don't know what to think of that," I mumbled."Of my generation, eleven of us were allowed to live. Kelly and Maitilda are the most physically dangerous. That was their purpose killing things.""Trained in combat styles by Cáel's grandfather?" Chaz looked, depressed."Yes. The four of us were. Fiona was the only one I couldn't best.""I would like to spar with you when it is convenient," Chaz requested."Okay. You deserve to know how bad it can be," she nodded. "Of the rest, Una was the youngest, the most human and humane. She was Father's final failure. I was never sure why he kept her alive.""For Cáel to rescue, of course," Odette insisted. Crap. She was right. By the horrified look on my Mother's face, she knew Odette was correct as well.Alal had let Una live as a contingency card, in case I was a soft-hearted sap. In hindsight, it was obvious. The innocent damsel trapped in a madhouse, at the mercy of her fiendish kinfolk, she was a perfect weapon to make me do stupider shit than normal."Damn," Mom muttered. "Anyway, Briana is the most willful and the family's representative to the Illuminati. Deidre is the most sedate, so she handles the normal business interests that we are allowed to know about. Darcie had Alal's hunger for lost and forbidden lore. In her case, it is all-consuming. She has memorized much of Father's collection.""She is rather good at it too or was when I last saw her. Imogen is our tactician and oversees the O'Shea's bodyguard contingent. She has Father's ability to choose the best men and women, to train them to a razor's edge and to inspire fanatic loyalty.""Sadhbba: she is Father's spy master; with the exceptionally eerie talents of subterfuge, deceit and finding the weakness in others. She and I did not get along. Fiona could do it all, except for my talent.""Which is?" Chaz took over, since Pamela was waving me over for a close, quiet chat concerning her phone call."Fiona was an updated version of me. She was slightly better at everything I could do, except for one thing. I had Father's sixth sense about things. Fiona did not, and that was the reason she hated me so much. Father stoked our internal conflicts to keep us all on edge.""Good to know," Chaz understated his concern. "Do you have any intelligence on how, when and with what your father will come after our boy?" I wasn't insulted by the 'our boy' moniker. He wasn't calling me a child. He was telling Mom that I was 'one of the boys' on his team. I felt all warm and tingly. My dearth of long-term male friends had meant I had never really been in a fraternity the close brotherhood of men before."Problem for you to deal with," Pamela handed me the phone. "It is Tabitha Loire." Tabitha? Vincent's FBI Special Agent Vincent Lorie's drop-dead gorgeous daughter. He had taken more than one bullet in Romania. I hadn't heard from him since that morning at the hospital, before being whisked away to the US via Germany. I remained a lousy friend."Hello? Who is this?" the weary, angry voice on the other end of the connection spoke."Cáel Nyilas. Tabitha Loire, what can I do for you?""What can you tell me about my Father?""Oh God! He is not dead, is he?" I grunted. Pause."No. No, Da is okay. He was released from the hospital a week ago. I would like to talk to you about what happened to him overseas.""He won't tell you?""No. Neither will his boss, or any of his acquaintances. Mr. Nyilas, he is down in the dumps and I want to know what I can do to help out. If you are his friend, you should help."I couldn't blame her for being both bitter and exasperated. She had run full tilt into the Great Wall of National Security and been stopped cold."How about I come down and talk to you?" I offered. "What I can tell you shouldn't go out over a phone and I have been remiss in not catching up with your father sooner.""Umm, when?""I'll take the next train down tonight," I decided. "We'll arrange some vehicles at the station. What is your address?" She hesitated. After all, she had Pamela's number, not mine and I was tied into her father being shot badly. She gave me the address, her desire to know what happened overcoming her caution when dealing with strangers. "I'll give you a call when we arrive in Alexandria.""Train?" Juanita griped. Chaz pulled out his phone and called Agent-86 for both the next train from Penn Station to Alexandria and an update to Virginia and the Homeland Security people for clearance to bring along our ironmongery. Pamela looked at me with pride. So did Mom. Whatever Juanita's opinion of me was, it was concealed by her call to someone else probably updating Buffy on my itinerary."Vincent was the Federal Agent who was wounded at Miercurea Ciuc?" asked Mom."I need to have a talk with Delilah," Pamela glowered."I want to be in the room when you do," Chaz agreed."Juanita Penn Station and call someone at Executive Services to pick up our car. Long term parking there is a bitch," I related.Was it? I had no idea, but Alal apparently did. I had been to Penn Station three times; and I never had a vehicle that needed a parking space. All three times, Havenstone sent a car to pick me up. That was for my preliminary and final interviews, plus handling all the paperwork after I got the job.I'd left Bolingbrook in a U-Haul truck (without much in it) a week before starting work. I had an iron-clad belief I could find a place to live within that time span. That was all the time and money I had allotted to that endeavor. My budget had been tight, or so I believed.Unlike the other four chuckleheads who joined the New Directive, I hadn't received a signing bonus. Maybe I should have asked for one. Too late for that now."You taking your mother to meet Vincent?" Odette poked me. I looked from Pamela to Odette then back again.Sneaky-ass bitches. They were introducing my widowed Mother to a really nice, mature guy who was brave, a good father, a widower and all-around stand-up guy. He had a ready-made family, an oldest daughter my age. Beyond some physical similarities, Vincent was not much like Dad. Dad was a quiet, private man.By the nature of his job as a Field Agent, Vincent had to possess superior communication skills. Physically, they were nearly the same height, but Dad was broader in the shoulders. On the other hand, Vincent had both a warrior's spirit and the skills to back it up.But why Mom? Her life was more a disaster than mine, and mine was colossally fucked up."Don't get any ideas," Pamela put out there. Was she talking to me? "Chaz and I don't like you. Your father is a rat-bastard with a mind like a snake. We have no idea if you are yet another one his plots to get at Cáel."They were still taking her with us as we went to see Vincent in Virginia. Since this was going to be a quick trip I had to be back at Havenstone at 6 a.m. no clothing was necessary. Chaz received a call from Agent-86 with a follow-up call as we pulled up to the station. I didn't know the nature of the second call until we went to pick up our tickets for the 10:05 Northeast Regional.Waiting there was my old buddy and now sister, Wilma Draper/Ishara. I was at a loss why. It wasn't as if I needed more firepower than Juanita, Chaz and Pamela in the confined environment of a train."Wilma?""Hello Ish Cáel," she smiled. She was emotionally pumped."What are you doing here?""Oh... Buffy told me that I was to be here on assignment to fulfill an Isharan obligation." This would be Wilma's first mission for House Ishara, no matter how brief and danger-free it might be. She was ecstatic.Huh? I couldn't recall any obligation I owed Buffy, or Vincent. Unlike every other Amazon House, things regularly happened without the Head of House's knowledge. Face facts: I was the least prepared leader the Host had ever had. I compensated by having hyper-competent underlings the very best of the best Runners-turned-Full-blooded Amazons."Ah," Pamela nodded, sensing my loss of understanding, "A promise to provide Vincent a bodyguard was made in your presence. Being the highest ranking member of the Host present, and failing to pass on that knowledge, it falls to your House to answer that pledge.""Wilma, you are here to be Vincent Loire's bodyguard?""Only temporarily. The current state of affairs at HQ won't allow me to take more than three days leave. Your 'First' is seeking another appropriate Isharan for the task."I had totally dropped the ball.The initiative to bring JIKIT and the Amazons together was my creation. Katrina had approved it, yet it was my status as Chief Diplomat of the Host (as I had redefined that role,) that was responsible for that group, and thus Vincent. There was also another undercurrent to providing Vincent an Amazon bodyguard. I would be sending Vincent the message that he was still a valuable member of the team. His infirmity was simply a temporary difficulty.I gave Javiera a call. I suddenly needed to know Vincent's status with the FBI. A little past Philadelphia, she called back. Vincent was on long-term leave and, barring a positive physical assessment, he would never be going back into the field. They were making him a desk jockey for the rest of his career. That would be a heavy enough blow to the man to put him in the dumps.I made my view clear. As Unpaid Honcho Assigned to Unit L & U HAUL, I wanted Vincent on my team JIKIT's field team. I had plenty of lethal shooters. I needed a trained investigator and a veteran lawman to keep us aware of the niceties the world's legal systems wished to live by. I finished that off with a very regal "Make it so!" Javiera, my boss, hung up on me; though I thought I caught a laugh before the connection was cut."Pamela," Chaz turned to Pamela, "I am proud to call him 'brother'.""I think he is coming along nicely, Grandson Charles," Pamela preened. Wha- huh? My family had grown yet again. Grown yet again with people who were better than me."Does that make Aya your niece?" a sleepy Odette smiled."I guess it does," he nodded."Aya will love you," Pamela smiled."I hope Caitlyn loves him too," I smirked."A man could do worse than marrying an Amazon," Chaz blithely retorted. Less I forget, the Tomorrow Clan had its own long warrior tradition."Asking it to be three thousand years long is a bit too much," Pamela agreed with what I had not spoken aloud."On the plus side," I began."He's also getting several frisky sisters-in-law," Pamela finished. Hi-Five."Super Twin Powers Activate!" we proclaimed loudly.Fuck Ishara for taking Tad fi from me. I could be just like my Father. I could bleed off my pain with humor and look at my daughter with untainted love."When I grow up, I want to be just like you," Odette yawned. Which one of us she wanted to emulate wasn't clear.{Wounded, but not forgotten}{2:00 am, Wednesday, September 3rd ~ 5 Days to go}The tickets were one-way. Katrina was having a private jet come down at 4 a.m. to fetch me. We arrived in DC at 1:30. Two bleary-eyed State Department flunkies met us with an S U V and a sedan. We took the S U V ~ we had seven people ~ while they drove the sedan back so they could try to make something of the night that duty had destroyed.They looked curious about what this was all about and were a bit disappointed that no explanation was forthcoming from our crowd. We were polite, and I thanked them for their service. Being a decent human being doesn't cost you much and can pay serious dividends.The drive to Casa de Loire took thirty minutes. Juanita informed me the small airport I would be flying out of was a twenty minute drive, so I had roughly an hour and half with Vincent and his family. When we arrived, Juanita sent Wilma to make a 'walk-around' Vincent's home so she could get the lay of the land as well as keep an eye out for voyeurs.Pamela saved another series of frowns from Juanita by being the first person to the door. Tabitha had called her after all. Tabitha, Vincent's oldest and a Georgetown University senior, clearly didn't know what to make of us, and we weren't making it any easier for her by showing up on her stoop three hours after she had called Pamela.It wasn't going to get better. For starters, Juanita (and the not visible Wilma) had a MP-7A1. Ya know military-grade weaponry. The door opened halfway. It was Gretchen Loire, the middle daughter."Hello. May I help you?" That wasn't her being uninformed about our imminent arrival. This was the child of an FBI agent allowing a stranger at her door to identify themselves instead of giving them a name to use."I'm Pamela Pile," my mentor answered. "This is Cáel Nyilas, my grandson. The gentleman to his left is my other grandson, Color Sergeant Chaz Tomorrow of the British military. To the left is Juanita Garza, my younger grandson's bodyguard the one without a gun in his hand. The young lady in back is Odette Sievert, another one of your father's co-workers. The woman beside her is Sibeal Nyilas, Cáel's mother. Don't trust her long story. A seventh member of our group is checking out your backyard. Her name is Wilma Draper.""You are heavily armed. Is my Da in trouble?""I want to talk to your father, if that is okay with you. I'll let Cáel answer your questions. He's our titular boss."'Thanks Pamela', I groaned inwardly.She was cute, exhausted and emotionally-vulnerable. Eager for answers and for someone to make sense of a world where her anchor her father had been nearly killed (not that his wounds had really been life-threatening). I hadn't had sex in over a day and that had only been a tension-breaker quickie with Odette.As we entered, it was obvious that Gretchen and her younger sister, Mariyah, had camped out in the front living room, catching some 'z's' on a recliner and a sofa with light blankets for covers. Mariyah was on the sofa, sitting up on her elbows and struggling to wake up.As Chaz shut the front door, Tabitha came down the stairs."Mr. Nyilas," she greeted me. Well, I was an infamous celebrity. I even had two Facebook pages (Nyilas Nailed Me! and Az j Magyarorsz g kir lya (The New King of Hungary)) as well as four Instagram accounts devoted to me."Ms. Loire," I met her halfway and shook her hand."Call me Tabitha.""Call me Cabbage-Head," I grinned. That caught her off guard."Oh, kay, not what I expected." (I get that a lot) "We need to talk," she failed to stifle a grin."If you sleep with any of these girls, I will shoot you," Pamela warned me in Hittite."Excuse me?" Tabitha looked her way."Don't worry about it, Tabitha," Pamela gave her a congenial look. "I simply warned the boy that if he acted inappropriately, I would scar him.""Aren't you engaged?" she turned on me."Yes. Yes I am. Hana is a wonderful woman; beautiful, smart, with a big heart and a serious nature. Sadly for her, I'm a lousy human being, untrustworthy cad and perpetually prone to making bad decisions where women are concerned. Very bad decisions.""Miss, since my associate appears to be eminently capable of mangling the English language, let me help you clarify the situation: Cáel can't say 'no' where a woman is concerned. He can't even say, 'no, please don't hurt me', or 'no, not now. I'm talking to my date'.""Hi. I'm Odette. There are four sane people in this room and I'm one of them.""Says the woman who snuck aboard a transatlantic fight and hid in a place in the galley which you couldn't get out of," Pamela snorted."I got to go to Europe for free," she defiantly perked up. "Oh, and ladies," to the Lorie girls, "your father is a wonderful and brave male. (OK, too much time around the Amazons for her.) "He saved my life in Budapest.""He was in Budapest?" Gretchen."When?" Tabitha."Why?" Mariyah."We need to talk to Vincent
Hell Rains Down.Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels. Would you choose ephemeral beauty, or rugged determination? Brief Segway :Senator Susan Collins of Maine, JIKIT's Congressional mentor, at our urging had proposed an amendment to the Taiwan Relations Act Affirmation and Naval Vessel Transfer Act of 2014 which would allow 'Turkey' to purchase six 'Oliver Perry class frigates for $10 million each. The same act already proposed four such vessels to be sold to Taiwan for the same amount as well as giving two to Thailand (and two to Mexico) free of charge.Things had immediately bogged down in the 113th US Congress. It was too easy for Democrats in both Houses to take the President's position that any additional weapons into the South China Sea area would further destabilize the region. The pro-PRC lobby was equally opposed to the bill. Under normal conditions, that would have been good enough to send the measure off to the procedural graveyard.Except in the current contrary nature of the US's chief legislative body, this meant Republicans found themselves drawn to the anything the White House opposed. They could claim they found the anti-Communist, anti-Islamic Extremists stance of the Khanate to be attractive to them though none of them felt the need to actually talk to anyone in the Khanate to find out what they were really all about.We were happy with that policy because true congressional oversight was the last thing we needed. They might start asking uncomfortable questions like...'Who gave you the authority to do any of the crap you pulled?'(No one. We lied like big dogs, purloined resources and cloaked ourselves in 'National Security'. Plus we let our elite personnel have a crack at doing what they had so dedicatedly trained to do, wreck things.)'Wasn't that, that, and that an act of war against the People's Republic of China?'('No comment'. If that didn't work, we would try 'they will never find out'.)'Why are 90% of all the names on these documents redacted? We are the freaking Congress! You work for us.'(Work for them? Not to our way of thinking. We earned our paychecks without any slavish devotion to corporate campaign contributions. We were working so that the lives of Americans and Brits abroad would be that much safer, the world more orderly and for the US and UK to have an ally they could really rely on. We couldn't tell them that. They'd throw us in jail. We'd redacted the records because the names were for people that did not officially exist, or existed in a capacity that didn't imply they were elite warriors, spies and assassins.)Besides,('Those are private citizens not in the employ of this group, or any other government agency we are aware of'.)'We don't care if they are private citizens. We want to know.'('You don't want to know' followed by some major gobbledygook with the term 'deniable assets' interspersed relatively often.)'What do you mean ~ you don't want to know? We asked you a question.'(We meant you people leak information like a sieve and the people we are protecting aren't going to be afraid of getting revealed. They are going to murder people to ensure they are not ~ basically you don't know what is going on and we don't want to tell you, for both our safety's sake.)So,('Trust us. There are factors we are taking into account that you are unaware of because you don't know what's going on'.)'Of course we don't know what's going on. That's why we are asking you.'('You really don't want to know.' We are your highly trained and underpaid experts on this, we aren't raging assholes and we are telling you that bad shit will happen if you force this, thus 'you really don't want to know'.)'What do you mean ~ you really don't want to know?? Yes, we do. We are warning you,'(Okay. Execute Plan B. 'Excuse us for a moment, {create a plausible lie.}'.){Pregnant pause,}Congressman-type: 'It is rather odd that they all had to go into another room to take that phone call.'{Minutes pass}'Go see what is taking them so long.''What do you mean they are all gone? Find them!''What do you mean they seem have left the building? Find them!''Who do I call about this? The FBI, Homeland Security, or the CIA?And finally,'What do you mean they appear to have fled the country? Find them, damn it!'(Hey, I worked with some real shady characters.)Then would come the international manhunts, the flight to avoid prosecution and then resurrecting my life under a different ID in another country which hopefully had a dim view of handing me over to the FBI, or the Navy SEALs.Now back to our regularly scheduled diversion :'It has to do with giving something to the Khanate if you expect them to do anything for you.'Tony: 'You can't appreciate how that is going to look. Besides, that is a political decision, way above your pay-grade.'(Not a good time to remind him that he didn't pay me.)'What precisely do you want us to do? Please be specific.'Tony: 'How is the Khanate going to react to an intervention on the part of the United States?''They will ignore you.'Tony: 'What if the President makes public statement.''What is he going to say?'Tony: 'That the US is dedicated to a peaceful resolution of the unrest in Thailand.''They won't care. They truly believe that actions speak louder than words. If Thailand requested our intervention, or was a client state,'Tony: 'A what?''Client state, a country beholding to the US, or UK for their external security.'Tony: 'I know what client state is. That is 20th Century Imperialist thinking. No one does stuff like that anymore. Besides, the UN is responsible for the external security of its member states, which Thailand is.''The Khanate doesn't see it that way. We won't let them into the UN, so they see no reason to play by the UN's rules. The President can evoke the UN Charter all he wants. Unless he makes UN acceptance dependent on their cooperation, they will see no reason to cooperate.'Tony: 'That's not going to happen.''What part of that won't happen?'Tony: 'The President is not going on international television and endorsing the Khanate as a prospective UN member. What happens if we imply through back channels that the President will support such an action at a later date?''You want us to lie to them? Do you have any idea how badly that will compromise our working relationship with the Khanate?'Tony: 'We will deal with that later. Would they accept such a bargain?''So you are going to lie to them, Mr. Blinken, they will never forgive this act of treachery.'Tony: 'No, you are going to lie to them.'Addison: 'I will resign. I suspect that the rest of the team will quit as well.'Tony: 'What is wrong with your team, Ms. Stuart (Addison)? Can't anyone over there do their damn jobs?''We are doing our damn jobs, Mr. Blinken. We are telling you this is a diplomatically fatal move that will not only reduce this taskforce to uselessness, it will have long term consequences for all future Khanate-American relations.'Tony: 'That is a ridiculous assessment.''That is our experienced assessment. They believe treachery is only forgiven by death. They do believe in loyalty and keeping one's word. In our country, perjury is an unfortunate side effect of the judicial progress. To the Great Khan, it is reason enough to cut your head off.'Tony: 'Fine. I am ordering you to open back-channel talks with the Khanate concerning their admittance to the UN contingent on them taking a reasonable course of action.''Even if we were to do such a moronic thing, the Great Khan will ask Cáel directly to verify this. It is that important to him and his state.'Tony: 'Okay.''Perhaps you could suggest to me what form of coercion I should employ to make Cáel to commit such a blasphemous act?'Tony: 'Tell him to do it. That is what we pay him for.''Mr. Blinken, Mr. Nyilas is an unpaid consultant. At the job he is on sabbatical from, he makes more money than I do. He has an Irish diplomatic passport, been nominated to be the Prince of Albania, Georgia and Armenia, been proclaimed a warrior-prince of Transylvania and is a hero in both Hungary and Romania. He has no brothers, or sisters. His parents are both dead. His only surviving kin are people he is not particularly close to. Since economic and social blackmail are off the table, I am asking you if you are ordering me to use enhanced interrogation techniques to exacting his cooperation in this foolhardy endeavor.'Tony: 'You mean torture him?''I would never go on the record using that word. I don't advise you to use it either.'Tony: 'What kind of people are you?''The kind you engage to take on a mission of this delicate nature. You honestly don't want to know what we've done in the name of our constituent national bodies. You employ us so that you don't have to know. As you said, we 'get it done'. Until now, you have never asked us 'how' we got things done. You wanted the intelligence so we got it for you.'Tony: 'No member of this administration ever asked you to violate US, or International Law.''Which is precisely why the government employs me, so that you can keep your hands clean while mine are steeped in blood. Nothing our team has done will ever blow back on you, so don't worry about that. Why don't we get back to our current dilemma?'(I think until that moment Tony had convinced himself that Addison was another civil servant drone and people like her only existed in the 'black bag' fantasies of conspiracy theorists, hackneyed movie scripts and questionable 'true' spy novels. People like Addison and Lady Fathom weren't standard issue intelligence officers by any stretch of the imagination. They were almost unique in that they did what they did for the very beliefs they had sworn an oath to uphold, to serve their countries.There were no personal vendettas going on. No slush funds were vanishing into Cayman Island accounts. Neither had a God Complex. There was no desire for personal power, career advancement, or fame. I was beginning to think that was why Temujin used them, and me, because we could be counted on to do the right thing when required and only when required. Addison and Fathom had damned themselves forever because someone had to pay the price and get the job done. I imagined they really felt blessed for the opportunity. I worked with maniacs.)Tony: 'Thailand, yes. What if we put troops on the ground in Thailand?''How many?'Tony hummed and hawed so we had to guess.'A Marine Expeditionary Unit? If that is all, they better have an exit plan. Sir, if you want to impress the Khanate with the White House's resolve, you need to start landing troops from the Rapid Deployment Force starting tomorrow. Base aircraft out of Thai air bases. Threaten to ram any Indian Naval vessels that get in your way.'Tony: 'Is that what it would take?'('Yes. It would take the US to growing some balls, damn it!' was not the diplomatic reply though it desperately needed to be said. Hey, I could be a bit of a jingoist when I feel the lives of my loved ones are in danger.)'That is our current assessment of the situation. The Khanate has no reason to take any American threat of force seriously. They won't see anything short of a full-court press as nothing more than posturing for the home audience and what allies we have left.'Tony: 'What does that mean?''It means you are taking the cooperation of Taiwan and Philippines for granted. Our people tell us they see American influence in the region waning and we have been letting the Chinese push them around. Now the Khanate appears and knocks the Chinese back three decades on the World Stage. The Khanate is trying to create a ring of allies around the PRC and a few of them are curious why the US is dragging its heel about such a critical regional issue.'Tony: 'You don't dictate US foreign policy.'(No, we simply enacted foreign policy without your knowledge.)There were probably a large number of Special Forces operators who would be shaking their heads in bewilderment when they found out the US was trying to face down the Khanate over, of all places, Thailand. Hadn't they just busted their humps trying to make the Great Khan see their nations (the US and UK) as potential worthy allies?Working with the Khanate had been 'interesting'. If you asked them for anything, they got it for you, danger and consequences be damned. They'd try anything for the men they considered 'brothers in the struggle'. If you were pinned down by fire from a hillside and asked for fire support, they would napalm the whole damn mountain if that was what it took. The man/woman on the other end of that radio cared for your life, not the human rights of the scumbag shooting at you, or any of the people they might be hiding behind.You also know if they couldn't get it done, it was only because the resources didn't exist. The Khanate Special Forces hadn't acted like co-belligerents, or allies. They treated you like their own kin. They would and had died to make sure some of them got home to their families. If ordered to, they would definitely take the fight to the Khanate. I believed many of them would be asking what had it all been for.'We wouldn't dream of it,' Addison lied.'Good. You have your marching orders. Now get to it,' and Tony hung up on us. Everyone in the room was looking around. What exactly were our marching orders? Had I'd missed that part of our conversation?"Well," Fathom sighed, "there is only one thing we can do." I seriously prayed she would ask me to lie to Temujin."Understood," Mehmet nodded. "Somehow we get the Khanate to launch their offensive into Thailand in three days.""Can they do that?" I blurted out."They do it, or everyone in this room is in a shitload of trouble when they get around to it next week," Addison grinned. "The Khanate high command isn't going to back down just because we ask them to. I wouldn't if I were them.""What happens if they can't make the three day window?" I asked."Then you call up your blood-brother and ask him to fuck over his nation to save us from lengthy prison sentences, or outright assassination," Fathom smirked."If he says 'no'," I looked into her eyes."That's the real tragedy in all this, he won't," she gave me a comforting look. "He isn't going to leave you hanging in the wind. He'll call off his attack dogs because he isn't the kind of man to fuck you over because it is politically expedient. I'm staking all our lives on that. I always have."The Black Lotus? We'd explain to them the ugly reality that neither of us could afford to be painted into a corner over this Thailand issue. We were doing our best, but our political masters were dead set on making a colossal error and we had to follow through with those directives. The Khanate would do everything in their extensive power to support the Black Lotus and if they could invade in three days with some nebulous chance at success, they would go.The Black Lotus, the entire 9 Clans knew JIKIT had no power except what we finagled from the US and the UK. We had borrowed their resources to accomplish what we'd done. The Black Lotus had profited from some of those operations and both the Khanate and JIKIT would owe them big, but we were good for it. That truism was why they worked with us.My personal problem was that I knew the Great Khan would not forgive, or forget this interference by the US. It wasn't in his nature. Worse, the politicians and bureaucrats in Washington would see this as a victory and an expression that the US remained the globe's premier super power. Too few would remember the price of this sense of superiority would be born on the back of Thailand's masses. The revolution would fail after a short, brutal civil war. The tyrant would remain in power and the voice of the Thai people would be stilled.The end result of that late night phone call? We weren't told.What follows is pure conjecture on my part, fueled by intelligence information provided by other JIKIT resources and knowledge about how much the political landscape of Southeast Asia had been transformed by the PCR being driven back to their own coastline, leaving a power vacuum India, Vietnam and the Khanate were eager to fill.The Republic of China/Taiwan --'Aren't you the same people who said only a week ago that sending more weapons into the region would only escalate tensions? And now you want to use our airbases against our latest ally in the region? Do you understand how much internal political turmoil this will cause? Half of us are jumping for joy that someone big and fierce embraces our independence. The other half think it is time to retake China.Yes, we mean the territory currently under the oppressive yoke of the People's Republic of China. Yes, the China the Khanate just kicked the crap out of. The nation that might not be able to protect say, Zhusanjiao. That would be the Pearl River Delta to you Westerners, that huge area on the mainland adjacent to Hong Kong. Hainan is looking pretty ripe for conquest as well. That would be that big island off the coast of, yes, we have indeed suspected you could read a map.At the moment we are expecting the permission of the Khanate to use Woody Island as a forward staging area and logistic base to help us do just that. Take Hainan, yes, that large island currently, and temporarily, under the illegal occupation by those illegitimate bastards in Beijing.What do you mean 'don't declare war on them'? We've been at war with the People's Republic since 1945. No, we are pretty sure we would recall signing a Peace Treaty with them. No, we can't 'get over it' either. Why are you even asking us that? Don't you know our history?Anyway, if we help you, can we expect the same level of cooperation from you as we are getting from the Khanate? In case things go sour, Yes, a shooting war would qualify. See, your people at JIKIT have been helping the Khanate and us, your people, at JIKIT, we are pretty sure it is made up of Americans and British personnel. Why would we think that? Are you serious? Because that's what your governments told us, that's why. Besides, why are you asking us what your people have been doing? Don't they work for you?Speaking of the US government helping us out, what progress is there on the Taiwan Relations Act Affirmation and Naval Vessel Transfer Act of 2014 ? We sure could use those vessels. While we are at it, how about sharing some of the technology used in the F-35. We'll build our own, or a model vaguely similar to it. We value your friendship and know you will help us out in a pinch.Right?'The Philippines --'Sigh. If you really think this will help. By the way, aren't your fighters going to need some in-air refueling? What are you going to do if the Khanate engages them over Philippine airspace? What are you going to do if you get into a shooting war with the Khanate? Will you defend us from their ballistic missile threat? We have a long history as your allies, but the Khanate is totally ruthless, and they scare us. Can you hold our hand, say for the next twenty years?'(The Philippines rolls out their Wish List)Maybe you could give us some advanced fighters?We are a poor country and can't afford to buy any before 2018.We are not greedy, 72 F-16s will do and you are upgrading to the F-35 anyway so we know you have some lying around. Could you also help us with the maintenance cost? We are a poor country, but very large.Some of your decommissioned naval vessels would go a long way in showing us some love. One of those Tarawa-class amphibious assault ships would be really nice and you've got the USS Peleliu decommissioned and about to be scrapped. We have hundreds of islands in our Republic so moving stuff around is pretty tough. Can you help us out?If you could toss in the ship's complement of 20 AV-8B Harrier 2 and 12 V-22 Ospreys with a fifteen year maintenance package that would be even better!We are a poor country. We could never afford to buy any of that stuff.Maybe a frigate, or three? You have a dozen Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigates sitting around. We can finally retire some of our World War 2 relics and make one our new flagship.We know you aren't going to give us one of those powerful nuclear submarines, but maybe you could secure a few loans so we could buy some of those nifty German-made, diesel-powered Type 214's. We hear they are pretty cool, very silent and practically a steal at $330 million per boat! We love you guys! And, we are poor.Oh, and some helicopters!We were going to refurbish some Vietnam-era Iroquois, but since your Marine Corp is retiring the far superior Bell AH-1 SuperCobra, can we have a dozen of those instead?We were going to fix up some of our aging Sikorsky S-76s as air ambulances. Getting new ones would be far superior, don't you think?You also have those cool Blackhawks. You have so many. Could you spare us, say twenty? You're the best!And some guns. And artillery. And some APC's.Did we mention we are a poor country going through an expensive force modernization program?Got any amphibious vehicles lying around? We could use a few of more of those small unit riverine craft (SURC)'s we bought from you recently. They are excellent counter-insurgency tools. You want us doing well fighting the War on Terror, don't you?Did we mention that we are a poor country? And we love you guys!The Federation of Malaysia --We like this idea. Give us say a week to ten days and we can jump right in.You want to go in four days? With what precisely? Compared to the force projections you have been providing us, Who? JIKIT, of course. Who else would you send us to when we requested intelligence on Khanate activities from you? Did we believe them? Why wouldn't we? They are your people,When do you think Thailand will let us intervene? We've asked the Prime Minister if he needs our assistance and he politely declined. Apparently he thinks he's got things well in hand. He does retain command of over 200,000 troops and the opposition is much smaller. I hope you have better luck than we did in convincing him he's in serious trouble.Also, what do you plan to do about the Indian Navy's South China Sea taskforce? It is pretty big, not something we can tackle on our own.Yes, we kind of need to know what you are doing before we decide what we are doing. You do realize that the Gulf of Thailand is currently under the complete domination of the Indian/Khanate/Vietnamese Axis, right?48 combat aircraft? What gave you that idea? The Vietnamese have been refurbishing their Mig-21's like crazy, using Khanate stockpiles, plus there are nearly a 150 Su-22's. Sure, they are both older than manned flights to the Moon, but they can drop bombs, fire rockets and launch ground attack missiles with the best of them. They are still jet aircraft.Worried? You are aware that those antiquated pieces of crap can bomb the northern part of my country, aren't you? So 'yes', we are worried about those 300 flying deathtraps being more than a 'manageable' nuisance.What about our air force? I imagine it will be doing what we trained it to do, defend Federation air space because I doubt those relics will be coming at us unescorted. We can already tell you that the Mig-29's and Su-30's the Khanate and Vietnamese will be flying are excellent aircraft. We fly them too, just not as many.Of course you can base your F-22's out of Sultan Ismail Petra Airport as long as you supply the logistical support. How many? A lot? Could you please be more specific? Two squadrons? My, that's going to get pretty dicey. I believe you when you say the F-22 is a highly advanced stealthy fighter. I also believe that they are a lot less stealthy when they are sitting on the ground re-arming and refueling.Do we think they will really threaten us? They are threatening us, over our Spratly Island claims, are you sure you know what you are getting into? By the way, when this blows over, do you think you can pressure the Khanate into giving us their Spratly island airbase? It is rapidly approaching completion and is over 3000 meters long.How did they do that? They are dredging the ocean floor, it is a man-made island. Didn't your government protest the environmental damage they were causing?No, not the Khanate, the Chinese.Yes, the Khanate currently controls it. They stole it from the PRC hours before the ceasefire. So, can we have it?Yes, we know it belonged to the People's Republic, but it doesn't anymore. Besides, we both opposed it when the Chinese were dredging it up the island from the sea floor, so giving it to us isn't all that egregious, or unexpected, action. It would also go a long way in supporting our just and worthy claims to the Spratly Islands. We really don't want those greedy Chinese, yes, both the People's Republic and the 'Republic of', or, those incompetent Filipinos to steal them from us.Both of us knocking the Vietnamese back on their heels will be going a long way to getting those Communist knuckle draggers to back off as well. Hey, if they do get antsy, can we also take the Vietnamese base in the Spratly's? It isn't as big as the one the Khanate stole, but it is finished, and closer to us. We are sure that if we help you out, you will do the right thing when the time comes. Right?The President of the United States --'They want what? Have they lost their fucking minds?The Philippines is talking about a billion dollar aid package and guaranteed loans we doubt they can ever repay. We only want to use their air bases for a month, maybe two, not deflower their teenage daughters. It isn't as if we are really going to go to war with the Khanate over Thailand. Besides, the last time we 'got involved' like that, George Bush ran up a trillion dollar deficit, and his party was thrown out of office. Doesn't anyone care we are facing a difficult mid-term election in November?So, the Taiwanese think this is the appropriate moment to invade mainland China? And they want our help? Do they know how expensive that can get? Do they understand how much that will unbalance the already shake state of Asian affairs? It is another land war in Asia for the love of God!'And, the Malaysians are going to help us, but not actually help us and they want tens of billions square miles of ocean for the measly concessions they are making? What do they expect us to do with all the Filipinos, Chinese and Vietnamese who already live there?What do you mean none of those islands are actually inhabited? They are just military bases, some of them nothing more than rusting iron hulks on submerged reefs? OH, God damn it! Why don't we take the God damn Spratly Islands for ourselves if they are that fucking important? We have a Marine Corp. Aren't they good at taking islands? I read about it somewhere.No, I'm not changing the damn mission. I'm venting because the world seems to be inhabited with greedy assholes who can't appreciate peaceful discourse without trying to lift my wallet.Okay, okay, I've got this. We are going to form a new international commission to resolve this Spratly Island's nightmare. Have the French chair it. They love that kind of stuff. Makes sure the Germans are on the commission too. They need to look less like money-grubbing douchebags after that fiasco over the Greek economic collapse. Then invite Russia, India and Pakistan. That will pretty much guarantee nothing gets accomplished.That will allow us to keep our promises to those three leeches without having to deliver anything and, when it fails, it won't be seen as my fault. (Groan) What we really need is new videos of Khanate soldiers bayoneting babies, another ISIS atrocity, or more indisputable evidence the Russian Army's involvement in the Ukraine. The Great Khan really screwed us over Tibet (you know, by allowing them to become a free and democratic society), Putin is an evil cuck (who most likely laughs at me behind my back) and another round of Islamophobia-bashing to remind everyone how this is all Bush's fault.No wonder George spent so much time at Crawford Ranch. Navigating international relations is totally thankless and no matter how rosy we paint the latest economic numbers, someone still finds a way to make me look bad. Oh well, if this blows up in my face, I only have two more years in this shooting gallery. Maybe then I might change my mind and decided I really was born in Kenya, or Indonesia. I really wish Hawaii was an independent country. I'd like to retire there if there weren't so many of those damn contentious Americans.The US President wanted to run this operation on a shoestring, not engage in 'nation-building', much less backing an invasion of anybody. In fact, he was trying to stop an invasion.The Philippines was a poor country. So what? It wasn't his fault. He had poor people in the US too and they cast votes.Taiwan suddenly thought it could take on China? They were insane. Of course he would be ignoring a major stated political goal of the ROC for the past 65 years ~ reunification on their terms. Any high-level technological transfer wasn't going to happen because if the Republic ran off the reservation, the President would bloody well be sure no one could trace that decision back to anything he'd done.At least Malaysia was on board, sorta/kinda. They wouldn't actually be able to help until day ten, or fourteen and, unlike the Republic of China, they had a small air force that might not be able to protect forwardly deployed troops. If he ended getting of those National Guard yahoos killed his party would be murdered in November.For a split second, he wondered if he should attempt to make a personal call to the Great Khan, potentate to potentate, except he had this sinking feeling that a winning smile and a handshake would be worse than useless. The man would look him straight in his eyes and start making demands. He would demand action and when the Leader of the Free World prevaricated, he knew the Khanate would call his bluff.And they would fight. The alternative was a grand spectacle of public humiliation and that he could not accept. The US military machine would fight and they would win. They would win because he needed them to win, fast and clean and home for Christmas. Maybe he would authorize the mobilization of those California airmen. Just in case.In the end, Secretary Kerry gave POTUS what he asked for.The Philippines would let them use their country's bases for logistics and strategic assets (aka bombers).The ROC would extend their air umbrella out 200 km to the east, south and west, acting like a shield between the Khanate and US Pacific assets moving through the tight Formosan Straits.Malaysia gave them an airbase from which they could strike into Thailand, or Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. The US Air Force would have the opportunity to be lethally effective.Had they known the sum total of the US commitment, they would have been appalled. The Khanate did not fuck around.One Carrier Strike Group,Forty (maybe sixty) Air Force fighters,Lumbering B-52's flying half way around the globe,Hadn't they been watching the dogfights over China for the past month? Maybe they would like to dive down and examine the wreckage of the PLAN carrier Liaoning and see just how it met its grisly fate?Apparently not.(I live, love and have loved)"What are you doing here?" she got the preliminary nonsense out of the way. With the way she was dressed, I was an expected visitor. She was expecting some make-up sex. I was thinking 'paying for my past mistakes' sex because I was already seeing way too many women who required me to do things outside the bedroom, non-sexual things. I had my dress jacket swung over my shoulder. It would only get in the way later."I brought you motorcycle over. You left it parked by my place," I kept any appearance of lust, or glee off my face."It is one o'clock in the morning," she glowered."I was called into work. I'm on call 24/7.""Let me guess, you can't talk about it.""You wouldn't believe me if I did, so suffice it to say I was doing things I didn't want to do instead of coming over here, waking you up from a sound sleep.""I wasn't asleep. I was angry," I pointed out."I apologize. Maybe I should have waited until morning." She didn't think I should have waited as long as I had. Keeping her waiting until morning would have left her volcanic."I wasn't asleep.""Your bike is in the parking lot across the street," I handed her the lot ticket."How did you find it?""There are only two places in my neighborhood that allows parking and the second one is poorly lit," I replied."And the attendant let you steal it?" she frowned."He knows me. I do a ton of business with him and it wasn't as if I was dressed like your average carjacker.""How did you start it?""Chaz showed me how to spoof the lock. He's got this spiffy lock-pick set on him.""That he carries with him for such contingencies?""Hey, he's the spycraft professional. I'm the amateur who tags along because karma is a bitch," I grinned."Did you ruin the ignition?""No. He's got this skeleton key thingy. I need to get me one of those," I added. See, I was drifting down the path to becoming a hardened criminal and she had to save me. Girls love saving bad boys from themselves. There is an entire literary genre devoted to the topic."Get in here," Anais barked. She emphasized that command by grabbing my tie and dragging me into her room. Now I could ogle her in her bra, panties and dress shirt left open. As I said moments ago, she was expecting me. Anais had thick, light-brown, just-past-the-shoulders hair with blonde highlights. Her dusky skin tone suggested some ancestral link to the South of France while her deep green eyes suggested Celtic ties.She was definitely someone I would describe as possessing an hourglass figure. She worked out just enough to stay fit, practiced judo (in and outside of the bedroom) and ate right. Her ass was the correct mix of firm and fleshy, her breasts were pleasant without too much bounce and she sported broad, but short, nipples that liked to get bitten.With her bare foot, she kicked the door shut, spun me around by my tie until I slammed, back first, into the wall in the short hallway that led to her bedroom."I repeat, what are you doing here?""I never actually apologized for how things ended up," I sodomized the truth. "Anais, I am truly sorry for how badly I fucked up our affair. I acted without a thought for the possible consequences, or thinking about how betrayed you would feel. Can you accept my apology?""You came here to have sex," she declared. She stepped up tightly against my body, her eyes boring into mine. I had around six inches on her so she had to tilt up her chin to do so."That too," I shrugged."I ought to throw you out the window," she growled. We were on the seventh floor. The window didn't open and the safety glass looked alright."I'll go then," I nodded. Now to make her beg for/demand sex."You are not going anywhere," she snarled. Then she kissed me, a tongue-grapple ensued and she finished things by biting my lower lip so much I tasted blood afterwards. I dropped my jacket. I was about to need both my hands."I think us having sex would be a mistake," I pushed her buttons. I wasn't some wimp acquiescing to her demands. I was a free-willed being; a strong man who needed to be wrestled down and forced to perform.She pulled me down into a second kiss. This was an 'I will leave you incapable of thinking about anything but me' kiss. Yes, I had names for kisses too. They were similar to naming the ingredients of a choice meal. I propelled her back until we slammed into the opposite wall. Anais was a tough chick and a bit of banging around was par for the course.I cupped each ass cheek and pulled her up. She responded by wrapping her legs around my hips. We were still kissing. Anais slipped her hands along my sides before linking them up at the small of my back. She pulled me hard against her while she ground her crotch against mine."Clothes," she rumbled from deep within. As in 'why was I still dressed?'"Been a while," I taunted her. Since she was glommed on to me, I used my freed up hands to rip off my tie."Yes. I bet it hasn't 'been a while' for you," she sizzled."Long as in 5:30 this morning," I teased back. At this point in the foreplay that revelation was akin to throwing gasoline on a fire. I was being an unrepentant dog and she was taking me to confessional, between her thighs."Bastard," she condemned me as well as the entire male side of the species."It doesn't mean I haven't missed you, this, us," I riposted. She retaliated by turning her humping motion into to more of a grind. Bad kitty. Bad kitty wanted to be spanked. Woot!"You are never going to change," she dug her fingernails into my flesh. I yanked my shirt off."If I hadn't changed, you wouldn't be here," I reminded her while nipping at her nose and lips."You are still an egocentric bastard," she growled."Hey, I always took care of your needs," I countered. I had. She knew I had and since she currently wanted me to take her to that higher erotic plane, she wasn't going to contest that fact. Instead, she began working her shirt off and in doing so, squishing her boobs against my chest.Holding her tight, my left hand under her right buttock and my right hand on her mid-back, pressing her torso into mine. We dance through two slow circles before crashing, side by side, on the bed. Anais rolled us over so that she was on top. I didn't let her get in a totally dominant pose, oh no. I had a kitty to take care off. I grabbed her firm ass and propelled her up until I was face first with her gusset.I might not remember to check my bank balance, or the atomic number of Technetium (I once had a girlfriend who would rate my performance on the periodic table in the midst of our fucking, I never made it higher than Copernicium before she passed out), but I can recall the precise taste, texture and topography of every cunt I've had face to face contact with. I knew right where to tongue-fuck Anais to twist her up inside.Control-orgasm, control-orgasm, Anais was pig-headed and wanted to keep dictating our reunion. She also wanted to return to the level of sexual bliss we had shared so often before. Her compromise was to hump my face; really grind it in. Black silk underwear is an excellent medium for transferring force and wetness between partners.She rubbed her love-nub against my upper lip/teeth while I did tongue-ups into her cunt. She was wetter than Bangladesh in the rainy season. That was an indicator of some serious masturbatory sessions stopping just short of orgasm before I arrived. I had some aching sensations to play with and I wasn't cruel. I maneuvered a hand between her thighs, underneath the band of her underwear and exposed her vaginal opening to my fingers and tongue while keeping that silky feel for her clitoris."Rurr," she began growling from the depths of her diaphragm. That was how she always was, thundering like a female grizzly bear in heat. It was an expression with deep subharmonic components that caused the heart to flutter and her flesh to shimmer with the vibrations mixed with her bodily sweat."Come on, Baby," I urged her on.That pissed her off. She was trying to hold off her orgasm for a few more seconds. My 'baby' crack shifted her resolve into anger allowing her climax to overwhelm her."Rah," she howled. It didn't sound like a female coming to fruition. It was more akin to the sound European soccer hooligans made when their team scored a goal. The muscles in Anais' thighs were strumming along like the cords of a piano, her belly was undulating in and out, and her head had rolled back so that she was screaming to the ceiling.The countdown was on. The people next door/across the hall/above or below us would be waking up, think that someone had unleashed a wild animal in the hotel, figure out they were not immediately on the menu, then call the front desk, stating their fears as justifiable fact. Anais and I had been down that road before.I gave Anais' flank a light smack to get her attention. Sure she looked back at me with simmering anger, yet she also knew the score. That had been round #1 in a nightlong bout of sexual conquest, rebellion and re-conquest. She drew her knees to her chest so she could pull off her damp panties in one swift motion. I worked off my shoes, pants, socks and underwear. While she soaked up my naked flesh (muscles, scars and all), she retrieved the phone from the side table and placed it beside her. She wouldn't want to break up our rhythm when the phone rang.No romantic small talk interrupted our shared lust. She wanted that cock and I wanted to give it to her. I moved between her inviting thighs while she examined me, her upper body uplifted by her arms resting on her elbows. Bite-kissing-biting resumed. I slowly pushed her head to the bed with the force of my kisses and strength of my upper body pushing down on her. Somewhere along the way, I slipped into her.Condom? Crap. I was slipping. I would have to pull out, because stopping to put a condom on would earn me some serious ferocity on her part. I plunged in. Anais placed her hands on my hips, claws beneath my kidneys, guiding my pace and power. I may have been on top, but she wasn't giving up on one ounce of control."Damn you," she hissed."Yes?" I leered."Fuck you.""I'm working on it. Is there anything," I teased."Bastard," she looked away, "You remember how I like it.""Whatever made you think I would forget?" I kept at it."Don't look so smug.""I'm working on it," I looked smug. Anais dug her fingernails in. I had to be punished, just ask her."When do you have to go back to work?" she huffed."Six a.m. When do you have to go back?""I have two days off.""Good to know," I stole a kiss from her lips painlessly. Good to know.(Painful dreams)I edged back into consciousness realizing that I was not alone. The muffled sense of my surroundings informed me that I wasn't really awake. She sat on my side of the bed, feet on the floor, side to me."Good evening, Dot," I yawned."Good morning, Cáel," the Goddess Ishara let her melodic voice float over me."Hold on," I interrupted her. I weaved as I leaned over, pawed at my pants (still trapped in the real world) and finally drew forth my offering."A fortune cookie," she chuckled. "I admire your dedication.""It is a simple enough request and I aim to please." I hesitated. "We don't have much time, do we?""You are dreaming, not concussed, so we will be alright if we tread carefully," she told me. "This time, I have no cryptic warnings, or specious pieces of information. I am giving you a gift. Take my hand."I did, not that I had much choice. We 'went', where to, I wasn't sure yet I suspected we were skirting the Weave itself where concepts like Time and Distance had little meaning.The Goddess released my hand and I stepped out of the fog brought about by the abrupt nature of our progress to see a woman sitting beside a pool, no, a sunken bath. She looked up at our approach. Oh shit, it was,"Cáel? You are Cáel, aren't you," she smiled. She stared at me with her blind eyes while waiting for my response with deaf ears."Yes, Tad fi, I'm Cáel. How did you know?""I bear our shared life inside me," she graced me with her serene presence."Ah, I was warned," I stopped myself. I was going to add 'this might happen'. That would be unfair as she appeared pleased with this alteration of her life path. "I was warned by the Goddess that she had something to show me. How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?"She put her hand over her lower abdomen and rubbed the spot with her palm."Seeing you and giving you the news in person is enough," she glowed with happiness."Have you picked out a name yet?" seemed weak."I will leave that up to you.""Oh, come on," I relaxed slightly. "This is something we are doing together.""No, it is not, kind Cáel.""Just because she will most likely end up an Isharan doesn't,""No, Cáel. This birth will cost me my life. I am not destined to ever see my daughter draw her first breath," she confided in me."No!" I recoiled. "That's unfair." What else could I say? 'I take it back. I shouldn't have listened to my Goddess and screwed you out of what little life you had left.'"I am content with my fate, Cáel Nyilas Wakko Ishara. Our daughter will be the first female of the Isharan line in nearly 1600 years. Rejoice that we have been confronted by Destiny and triumphed. The light of the Peacemakers will shine once more among our sisters.""It is not worth the cost of your life," I responded bitterly. This was colossally unfair to all three of us."That you grieve for the short time I have left gives me strength, knowing our daughter will grow up with a strong, caring father. I,"I could sense Ishara close by my side."You must go, my Cáel. We will next see each other in the Halls of our Ancestors. Take our daughter and raise her well. I have faith in you," she sighed pleasantly, as if I had sheltered her from the rainstorm with my umbrella."We must go," Ishara whispered in my ear and then we left. I was back in the hotel room, looking down at the tears on my sleeping face and it hurt so much."You gave me that command knowing what it would cost her," I sounded so hollow, chin on my chest, eyes closed instead of looking at my feet."We are not an easy people to love, Cáel. We are harsh. Endless centuries of suffering, pain and mistrust have made us this way. Please understand that what you see as one life passing is really one life coming into being. It is a life Fate would have denied the line of Ishara. I took you to meet Tad fi because I wanted you to greet your daughter with understanding, not sorrow. I owed you.""Steal my anger why don't you?" I chuckled bitterly. "Can I even blame myself for this tragedy? It isn't like you made me do anything. I did it because I wanted to and never gave much thought to the frail health Tad fi was hanging on to. This is so wrong and I don't know what to do.""Wake up. Keep living. If this news turns your heart, or fills your mind with doubt, then both of us have failed you. Tad fi didn't have to tell you. I didn't have to bring you to her. I believed you were owed the chance to say good-bye.""I didn't say that," I exhaled sadly."You openly grieved and let her comfort you. That is more of a 'goodbye' than most people are able to convey. She knows your heart. You were honest in your sorrow. She saw that and that eased her suffering knowing that you are a person who is free with their heart. For a woman who expected nothing but wickedness from men for so long, that was the ultimate gift. You did help her. You truly did.""I," I woke up. Anais was looking down at me, concerned."You've been crying," she noted by touching my cheek with a finger then showing me the dampness."Do you believe a person's soul can fracture?" I murmured. That sort of talk was unlike the 'me' she once knew."Do you believe that another can help you put your soul back together if that happens?" I continued."You are not talking about us, are you?" she studied me."No. I'm thinking about being a parent, not just a father. Can I fuck that up as much as I've screwed up so many of the other women I've cared for, am I going to be worthy of being a Dad?""Oh, I don't know. You are not the man I knew two years ago. I think you have changed for the better. You are still far from perfect yet, you seem to be trying so much harder than previously.""You think I'm going to screw things up, don't you?""Yes. Yes, I do, but I also think you will only make the same mistake once. That is better than most men can hope for," she let her gaze soften."This is us breaking up,""Yes. I think if I stayed, you would break my heart; and I am starting to believe neither one of us wants that," she nodded. "One more time?""I'd love to," I smiled at her. I still hurt. I was using sex to bandage my pain. Anais knew that and was giving me this unlooked for piece of kindness. It was the best break up I'd ever had, or could ever hope for.{5:45 am, Saturday, August 30th ~ 9 Days to go}"You look like someone strangled your kitten," Pamela told me as I exited Anais' hotel room. She was leaning against the wall across the hall. I had the feeling she had been there a while. Of course I hadn't been allowed to wander off alone; most likely, Chaz had kept an eye on me until Pamela relieved him."I, I got Tadifi killed," I unloaded on her.Pamela immediately dropped her casual fa
Tadifi's legendBook 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.Meanwhile, Elsa was quietly amused. It wasn't like I could request the SD to force my House Guard to not do something they had been told to do by someone in my hierarchy. That would lead to chaos, and it was unfair to Juanita."Fine," I decided. "Get us three some water. Elsa and I will be practicing."Now Juanita was stuck. I wasn't asking her to leave the room, just leave me alone. I was technically her leader, respect notwithstanding."It is good to see you have not become drunk with power," Elsa smirked once Juanita had left on her errand."Your mockery is unappreciated," I glared back. I was only kidding. "I haven't seen you around recently. It is good to see you.""It is good to see you too," Elsa said in a voice far softer and compassionate than I would have preferred. After all, she had me drugged, beaten, then beaten me up again in the not so distant past.Of course, I had also sexed her up, bringing her to orgasm with my fingers alone. We had also exchanged a burning French kiss in Katrina's office that Buffy was aware of. Then there was the Buffy-Elsa personal feud and the Elsa-Rhada family feud. Balancing that was Elsa's super-hot body and intriguing personality. Sex with her promised to be memorable, more memorable than normal."What have you been up to? I'd like to say I've been behaving myself, but I don't want to advance our relationship by lying (right now, about this).""You are largely responsible for what I've been up to the past two weeks," she stepped back. She tossed her spear aside and entered her fighting stance. How nice of her to warn me, and get rid of her weapon. How erotically odd of her to give me the illusion of a chance."I deny everything," I rocked back. She was blindingly fast. The fact that I was able to block most of the blow was a testament to how much I had learned in the past two and a half months."Watashi wa nihongo o hanashimasu', 'Wǒ shuō pǔtōnghu ', 'Wǒ shuō guǎngdōng hu ' and 'Aku isa basa jawa'," she lectured me as she maneuvered me into a corner with a series of kicks and feints. She spoke Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese and Javanese. That was nice to know."Wait," then she kicked me off the mat."Amazons don't have a 'time out'," she smiled. I cautiously worked my way back onto the practice area."What part did you play?" I readied myself. This time, I went on the offensive. I used my greater strength and reach to compensate (rather poorly) for her superior reflexes."Someone had to ride herd on those disparate forces. My status was respected by the Amazons, I had experience dealing with outsiders, plus your person Addison nominated me, and Katrina suggested that you and I were close. That was enough for the Khanate. Your embassy and earlier aid to the Seven Families brought the 9 Clans along.""And you stole the carrier?""It was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to humiliate the Seven Pillars," she grinned. "Riding in a nuclear submarine was interesting, right up there with running around, spray painting translations next to all the markings onboard the captured vessel. Herding regular civilians wasn't nearly as much fun.""In the annals of the SD, that is going to be a victory hard to surpass," I got out right before my legs were swept out from under me. Before I could roll over, she landed on top of me. She didn't go for a pin. Elsa simply sat there, straddling my hips and looking down at me. We were both breathing heavily."I owe you for that," she patted me on my bare chest."Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?""I'll let you figure that out during the Great Hunt," she gave a sliver of a smile."Not you too," I groaned."Who else are you worried about?""You and twenty-nine other Amazons. By name, Rachel. She's pretty upbeat about her chances and believes she has a score to settle.""Rachel will be a tough one," Elsa acknowledged."Comfortable?" Juanita muttered."Yes, I am," Elsa grinned her way. "Thank you for asking." Juanita gave me a look that suggested I do something like protest, or actually try to fight her off."Why are you being nice to me?" I wondered."I've learned to appreciate your numerous qualities," Elsa enlightened me. "I am also honest enough to admit I was completely wrong about you. You make a good Amazon." That was huge praise indeed and more importantly, it was to a public audience. I was double fortunate that no one was close enough to see Elsa's camel toe resting against my lightly covered hard-on."Thank you. Is there anything I can do for you?""Aren't you engaged to someone?" Juanita reminded me. What she was really saying was 'don't you know you belong to the maidens of House Ishara?' Trust me, I know these things. Had she meant Hana, she would have said Hana."She has the patience of Job," I reasoned. "Oh, Elsa, Job is a figure in the Old Testament of the Bible." I doubted she knew."Oh. Is he a bloody-handed butcher, raging misogynist, or one of those pacifistic wimps?""He's a nice guy who gets swallowed by a whale.""That's Jonah," Juanita corrected me. "Job is the one who was tested by God. Job accepted God taking away all his family, wealth and health, only to be rewarded for his loyalty to God with more than he ever had before.""Wimp.""I would never turn away from Ishara," Juanita rumbled."Zorja would never feel the need to test my loyalty so," Elsa riposted."Oh look," I thrust my hips up. "I seem to need a shower." Elsa's expression was of superiority and lust combined into a lethal cocktail of my demise."Let's go. You can wash my back," she said as she rose over me. She even offered me a hand up. That was unexpected and accepted warily."Is there some battle wound that makes you incapable of bathing yourself?" Juanita got feisty. Holy Hell, she was my Caribbean Buffy-twin."None," Elsa smugly commented. "I like the feel of his hands on my body. He possesses non-threatening masculinity wed with sisterly solidarity. It is a unique experience that you seem woefully unaware of.""Yippee!" I whispered."You really are a man-whore," Juanita declared under her breath."Check," I gave her a thumbs-up. Sadly, Elsa gave me enough respect to walk at my side, not in front of me (so I could have been mesmerized by her buttocks.) As I was stripping down in the locker room, I noticed Juanita hovering close by. "Are you going to follow me into the shower?""Yes.""Why? I am not going to be in danger in the middle of Havenstone.""I'll be the judge of that," she insisted."You do realize I've had sex with an audience before, don't you?""I've been warned about that and know proper counter-measures.""What? What kind of measures?" I was now naked and, towel in hand, was making my way to the communal showers."Charlie horses, trips, stun-gun if applicable," she informed me with relish."You are threatening to damage my prestige," I enlightened her."Cáel, I was chosen for more than my martial skills. I was selected because I will not wilt before your childish ways.""Are you a lesbian?""No. Why would a woman have to be a lesbian to withstand your wiles?""You'll figure it out eventually," I chuckled. Actually, knowing what a playboy-cad I was turned out to be a counter-intuitive edge for me. Expecting me to be a letch just meant I totally ignored the woman. Then the doubt would set in. 'Why wasn't I hitting on her?' she would think. She'd go through the phase of her not being good enough for me to knowing that wasn't the case, definitely, and would come at me to prove herself right. Wham-bam, another one in the can. Oink.Step One: reduce the amount of time talking to her as a fellow human traveler of life. From here on out, I would address her by her name when I wanted something and otherwise treat her like furniture ~ furniture I was comfortable with. In this case, I treated her like a towel rack. She promptly dropped it. That was okay, I was planning to get dressed wet anyway.I rinsed off my hair quickly as Elsa settled underneath the showerhead beside me. As soon as I finished, she handled me a bottle of (scentless) body soap. It was probably one of those the jaguar will smell me coming ten miles away excuses Amazons used to avoid being girlie. I got my hands all sudsy and began working on her shoulders and neck from behind.Wordlessly, Elsa followed my physical directions, allowing me to wash her arms before working my way down her back in languid, amorous circles. Around the 10th thoracic vertebrae, Elsa gave me a deep, cleansing exhalation. I dug my fingers into her taut back muscles, racking them down to her buttocks, deftly ran them along the sides of her glutes and finished up caressing them along the line between her thighs and ass.I worked her buttocks apart, worked my fingers along her perineum, tickling the back of her labia then up, across her anus and back to her tailbone and the small of her back. A crazy idea came to me: maybe I could talk her into a tramp stamp; something like If you are reading this, know I'll kill you next. That would be so Elsa.I lathered her ass up for another half-minute before working my way down to her thighs, starting with the hip joints and then coaxing of her parted lips. I knelt down so that I was resting on the balls of my feet. Elsa obliged me by parting her legs, standing on her toes with her feet over a foot apart, then placing her hands against the shower stall while arching her back so that her hips were thrust back."Oh, come on," Juanita protested. "What kind of bath is this?""Did you hear something?" Elsa looked down at me."Nope. I was focusing all of my attention on you," I smiled up at her. I was really liking the way her muscles were stressed through her exertions. I couldn't seem to pay enough attention to her robust calves. I didn't pass up the opportunity to plant gentle kisses on each cheek either.Elsa's ankles and feet happened all too fast and the pretense of a bath was complete. She looked at me while she soaped up her breasts then let the water cascade all over her body."Thank you, Cáel," she gave me a regal nod of her damp head, turned and left. "Train harder for the Hunt. You are going to need every edge you can get.""I'm stalking oysters over the weekend. They are cunning and stealthy adversaries," I replied sagely. Elsa snorted, then started toweling off as she left, going toward her own locker. I walked past my soaked towel on the floor without a single glance. Juanita stalked behind me, clearly with a lot on her mind she was now waiting for the proper moment to share. I got dressed."Not going to dry off?" she grumbled."I never use towels," I lied. "I like the rain-washed feel." By ignoring her act of defiance, I really steamed her. I wasn't done. As we headed toward the elevator, I opened up with my next jibe. Buffy really shouldn't challenge me so. I'm a past-master of dealing with clingy, bossy women."Regretting you made that bet?" I mused while we waited."What bet?" she simmered."The bet where you assured Buffy and whomever else was in the room that you wouldn't break down and physically harm me ~ punishing me for my wicked ways?""What? How did," she groused then, "You are playing me.""Yep.""You really are full of yourself," she seared me with her gaze."No, but I know what I'm good at and I'm good at frustrating women. I've been working at it for the past four years and I've got over 200 women who would agree that I'm very good at doing it.""Why are you doing this to me? I'm on your side," she turned all pouty and hurtful."Because if I don't, I'll go mad, Juanita," I enlightened her. "You want to protect me, right?""Yes," she sensed a verbal trap. The elevator opened and we stepped in."See, I don't want to be protected," I started."That's,""Let me finish, please," I stopped her. She gave me the visual 'go-ahead'. "I don't want to live a life where I need to be protected. I don't want to worry that women I hang out with could be cornered by some unsavory types at an eatery because those women happen to know and like me.""I admire what you are doing, I really do. This is not the life I wanted, though. This is not what I wanted to be doing four months after leaving college. I wanted to be some corporate worm, barely scraping by on my work reviews and being, as you said, 'a man-whore'.""You don't have that luxury," she pointed out."Am I not doing my job?" I countered."I guess you are," she grudgingly admitted."Yet you feel you have the right to critique my personal life and how I approach it," I related. "I'm not beating you up by playing the I am Ishara bullshit. I certainly don't expect anyone to be grateful to me for the opportunity to be in a House. I don't because I believe that every member of House Ishara has already proven they belong here before I ever meet them. I believe in you. Sometimes I would appreciate it if my sisters would give me the same respect."She looked away because my harpoon had struck home."Unlike the rest of you, I inherited my place in this madhouse. Unlike every other Amazon here, I am only a part of House Ishara because I am the choice of a thousand ancestors to be our leader. Notice that no one asked me if I wanted to do this. And I don't think I ask too much of you because frankly, there are times when I feel unworthy to be in your company.""You are still Ishara and I must still be your guardian," she held her ground. I glared at her. She glared back. I coughed. She kept glaring."What's my name?""Oh," she shrugged. "Cáel Wakko Ishara.""That may sound silly you to, but I have chosen the designations for myself, my First Ancestor and the Goddess for a good reason."We rode in silence. When we got to the ground floor, we made our way to our bikes and got ready to head home."What is the reason?""To never take ourselves too seriously. The worst thing I can think to befall my House is we become as humorless as the rest of the bitches around here. 'Laugh at Death' should be our motto.""Isn't that a bit childish?""Of course it is," I groaned. "You clearly haven't been paying attention to a damn thing I've been saying. I swear I'm thinking about bringing back 'National Clown Nose Day'.""We had a 'National Clown Nose Day'?" she pedaled to keep up."God help me," I muttered.(Where is my Serge?)"You are not going to let me go through my door first?" I sighed in exasperation. Juanita insisted that she go through every door first, because today was so very different than yesterday, when I had Pamela, perhaps I protest too much."You have a gun," a somewhat familiar voice said from inside my/Timothy's apartment. Oh, fuck. Ya know, because Juanita was as pretty as she was lethal, which is to say 'too much for the given company'."Don't make any sudden moves unless you want to see it," Juanita cautioned her."Oh, it's okay," Odette intervened. "This is Anais Saint-Armour. She's a Mountie.""Oh, she's on the List too," Juanita grumbled. "What has he done wrong this time?""Why don't you tell me who you are first?" Anais growled at Juanita while I pushed my way into the room."I don't like your attitude," Juanita glared."Anais, this is Juanita Leya Antonio Garza; she's my latest bodyguard. Juanita, this is Anais, a good friend of mine who helped save my life in Hungary when the 'terrorists' were closing in," I somewhat exaggerated,, she had helped me catch up with the rest of the team when Pamela and I got sidetracked."Why did he chose you?" Anais fumed. Did I mention she's insanely jealous with an aching need to know why I was marrying anyone else, but her."What list?" Odette proved to be on the ball."He didn't chose me. I volunteered for the spot.""Buffy made an anti-girlfriend list. Elsa is on it too," I mumbled."I bet you did," Anais (responding to Juanita)."It is not like that," I moved to interpose myself between my Mountie and my non-mounted (for now) guardian. "I'm on the board of directors for Havenstone now and,""How did that happen?" Anais turned 'The Force' on me. (That's Canadian for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, really) "You insisted (reference back in the days we were seeing one another) you were impoverished.""I inherited it from my Father,""He's poor too. I ran a background check when we first started dating," Anais kept up the pressure."My Mother?""She's dead.""Okay, it was my Father through a convoluted meandering of genetics," I went back to attempting the truth (shame on me)."Which is it?" she glowered."My Father, but it's too complicated to get into now," I tried to touch her. She recoiled. She was still pissed with me."He's telling the truth this time," Odette rose to my defense."Why didn't you tell me this when you were in Hungary? For that matter, if you are rich, why didn't you use those resources to get yourself out of trouble instead of involving me?" She really was a great cop."I had to make a call to someone I trusted and who couldn't be traced back to me, or Havenstone, or the Irish Embassy," I fibbed."What have you gotten yourself into?" Anais thawed somewhat."I believe I promised you dinner," I reminded her."You did.""Where are we going?" Juanita stressed our lack of privacy."'We' aren't going anywhere. Ms. Anais Saint-Armour and I are going to a restaurant of her choosing. Don't worry about it. She carries a gun.""I'm not carrying a gun," Anais torpedoed my plan."Where are we going?" Juanita repeated herself. I had to switch mental gears quickly to take in the new looks I was getting from Anais. I shouldn't have ignored those cues."I can't get around my personal security service," I sighed. Why did I give in? Anais was all about gathering evidence and then drawing conclusions from the facts in available.I had been involved in some significant bad-assery in Europe that was way beyond anything she would have associated with the old me. Terrorist cells duking it out with me (and others) in a Budapest metro station? A rustic inn being reduced to ashes after a suspected firefight? Bomb threats? A full-scale military operation in Romania?I had been kidnapped with a resultant massive manhunt for me then returned under highly mysterious circumstances. There had been a young girl with me, we were close for reasons not really gone into and I had saved her despite all forms of parenthood had been anathema to me.I was a man who others deemed necessary to protect, thus a man making secretive phone calls, getting snippets of information and being involved in the deaths of way too many people to be the old, playboy me. Who had I become?I therefore might be a man who 'needed' to marry a billionairess due to some unspeakable political reasons, not out of any romantic/sexual desire of my own. Anais knew that I was a commitment-phobe, not a gold-digger. That meant she could be involved with me without it really being cheating. I needed her help, I had reached out to her when I was in crisis and she was in the people-helping business, right?There was clearly more evidence out there for her to discover and she had the good fortune to be able to have me in a spot where I could be interrogated."Where do you want to go?" I disengaged and went to my room. The door was only partially shut as I changed."Eleven Madison West," I was told."Oh," Odette cooed, "that place is expensive.""I know," Anais remarked."Why did you pick it?" Odette inquired."To remind Cáel that meals can be very expensive." That was my 'date' reminded me that I'd cheated with her over the course of a home-cooked meal, cooked not-by-her in someone else's home. I wondered how Maya was doing.Eleven Madison West meant I pulled out one of my Havenstone suits. They were tailored after all and I suspected that getting into this place at this time of night was going to take some charisma and finagling. Dressing as causal-me wouldn't do. When I stepped out, jaws dropped ~ I do look good all gussied up. Odette dispelled the shock by jumping into my arms."You look hot," she squealed. "Too bad I'm not going out with you.""You might want to remember that," Anais griped."We need to stop by Havenstone so I can attempt to dress up for this affair," Juanita stated."How about we call in a replacement? Give you the night off?" I suggested."Who?""Chaz?""You want that British SSR non-commissioned officer to be your personal bodyguard for tonight? You've got balls," Juanita coughed. I took out my phone and got ready to give him a call."Hey, Anais, why didn't you call me to tell me you were coming over?" I carefully avoided the word 'warned' as she would take that the wrong way."I don't have your personal phone number. I called your home phone and got the answering service, last night and again this morning," she narrowed her eyes."Odette, did Timothy get lucky last night?" I looked past the Mountie."No. A good friend of his rolled his motorcycle and he went to the hospital to help him out," Odette shook her head. Poor Timothy. My roomie/fuck-buddy misinterpreted Anais's pique. "Timothy is gay, not a sexual enabler.""Huh?" Juanita wondered."Wingman," I translated. "Sometimes the three of us go to gay clubs where I act as his wingman,""And they feed me to lesbians," Odette sounded enthusiastic. Thanks to me she was hardly a same-sex virgin."If there are three people living here and two bedrooms, who sleeps on the sofa?" Anais skewered Odette with her eyes."If Cáel has company and isn't sharing, I sleep with Timothy," Odette refused to wilt, or cut me some slack with Anais."Isn't sharing?" those ocular death orbs flicked my way."Hmm, if we are going to Elven Madison West, I had better make that call," I evaded. I rang Chaz."Nyilas," he answered. "How are you doing this evening?""I'm good. I have an ex-girlfriend from out of town visiting, she wants to go to a swanky place and Juanita isn't dressed for the detail so,""You want me to double date?""No, I need a bodyguard.""You are assuming I have something appropriate to wear.""You are British!" I protested. "Even your chicks have tuxedos.""Very well. Will this be a personal protection detail, or close support?""Aahhh,""Close support," said Anais."Personal Protection," countered Juanita."The one most likely to save me from being stabbed with a steak knife," I muttered."I am not going to physically attack you," Anais simmered. Yeah, right, I had heard that one before, and not just from her."Personal Protection it is," Chaz informed me."Oh, and she's a Mountie.""Is she armed?""No," I thanked the goddesses."Does she want to be?""Huh? Are you going to arm her?" I panicked."No. You have a NYPD liaison. Give Officer Kutuzov a call and make a formal request. If she is a law enforcement officer in good standing, it shouldn't be a problem.""Oh, I can do that?, I'm not sure that's the best idea," I prevaricated."Man up, Nyilas," he chided me. "You should work on making it so women don't want to shoot you instead of thinking of ways to disarm them.""Spoken like a man who wisely prefers the company of other men," I grumbled."Good use of the word 'wisely'. Next question: what are we using as a means of conveyance?""Umm,""I have my motorcycle," Anais was less than helpful."If you weren't one of the bravest human beings I'd ever met, I would determine at this moment that you are a dolt. Call Havenstone and arrange for one of those Mercedes Armored GL550s. Bring your license. I drive on the correct side of the road and I'm not keen on having a distraught paramour driving into a storefront at 80 kph.""Man, I like the way you speak," I joked."I took advantage of a proper English education.""I was joking with you.""I know.""Can I date your sister?" I didn't know if he had a sister, but he'd hinted there were multiple Tomorrow's out there. Anais' mood didn't improve."Yes. I like you. You are a good bloke.""Does your sister know how to kill people?""Yes. I'd say she's relatively proficient with a variety of small arms and hand-to-hand techniques," he enlightened me."Just checking.""Cáel, every woman you are interested knows how to kill people, or how to have people killed," Chaz reminded me."What about Odette? She's neither well connected nor lethal.""Odette is indeed an enigma. She counters that by being well liked by people who are capable of killing others who hurt her, except where you are concerned. You live a treasured life.""Have you made dinner reservations? If you need me for a black tie event it has to be, what is the American for it, swanky.""That's more of a Cael/Pamela thing," I corrected him. "American's say 'high class', expensive, or 'hot spot'.""Thanks for the update. Make those calls.""O-kay. Will do. I'll meet you at Havenstone in thirty minutes. Does that work for you?""Yes. Make those calls. I'll see you at, 7:52 pm, EDT. Mark.""Huh?""Goodbye Cáel," and he hung up."Who is this 'Chaz' character?" Anais questioned me."He is Color Sergeant Charles Tomorrow of the British Army's Special Reconnaissance Regiment, he's a badass and he's delicious," Odette answered for me."How do you know him, either of you?" came next."He was with," Odette began blabbing 'National Security' stuff."Odette, don't. Anais, he is member of the Joint International Khanate Interim Taskforce along with me. Odette helps out in an auxiliary role," I answered."Cáel, how did you end up doing this kind of work?" she was perplexed. "You were devoid of anything approaching civic responsibility when we were last together. Quite frankly, I didn't think you cared for anyone but yourself.""Hey now," Odette got feisty. She was my friend after all."We can talk about that over dinner?" I suggested. She didn't like that answer, so I lied. "I grew up," which was what she wanted to hear. I was spared any more interrogation at the moment by the necessity of making those three phone calls. Nikita liked hearing from me again, though she was less pleased that it was official business. She did agree to contact the appropriate agency for me, despite me making it for a different female law enforcement agent.I'd wised up about Havenstone. I called Executive services to have the car delivered to my door step. I cautioned the operative that, in my neighborhood, they might be stopped on suspicion of purchasing guns, drugs, and/or a good time. I would have the car in fifteen minutes and agreed to take the delivery driver back to work afterwards. I'd have done it even if I wasn't meeting Chaz.At Eleven Madison West, I got a snooty 'exactly who do you think you are?' followed by 'you will be placed on the waiting list, a spot may open up around 9:50'. Was I going to inform Chaz and Anais of this? Of course not. I planned to beg like a big dog, suggest that while I was a nameless face, I actually knew people, a person, and we'd see how far that got me.While waiting for the S U V to arrive and on the drive back to Havenstone, this is pretty much what followed:"Do you know who was behind your father's murder yet?""Yes, but I can't talk about it.""Was that the reason people are trying to kill you?""Yes. That and other reasons.""What other reasons?""Things I can't talk about.""Why can't you talk about it?""Secret society stuff ~ decoder rings, secret handshakes, writing in cyphers, holding clandestine meetings in public places after dark, and various other things world governments don't want me talking about.""Are you pulling my leg?" I wished I was running my hands over her legs. This wasn't the time for that revelation."No. Most of what I am telling you is the truth.""Were you in a shootout at the Chicago Medical Examiner's morgue?""Yes. I was unarmed at the time.""Was your life in danger?""It depends on what you mean by 'danger'. My allies had guns and were expert shots. I was shot at, but they missed me, so I not sure how much my life was at risk.""Can you please be serious?""I'm trying. You scare me.""You don't need to be afraid of me. I only want to help." That was mostly true. She was a diligent, hard-working incorruptible public servant,well, as long as you overlooked her charging me with bestiality when she was truly pissed with me."I'm not afraid of you hurting me. I'm afraid for you. You are an excellent peace officer and I'm worried that you will learn too much. Then your life will be as screwed up as mine.""I can take care of myself.""The reality that you are going out with me unarmed speaks volumes about what you don't know, Anais.""Don't think this line of questioning is over, Cáel.""Don't worry. I know you are not done.""Very well. How is your aunt?" The crab-fisherwoman, not the Irish menagerie."Happy as a clam, working a real job and living life on her own terms.""Where did you go wrong?" That was a loaded question. I had to tread carefully."A girl humiliated me in high school. I decided to take control of my life and somehow, despite my best intentions to be an unreliable lothario, I've ended up with people closer to me than family,and this constant need for physical protection.""Why are you engaged?" Finally, the real reason she was here. Had she come by to pick up her accoutrements, she would have been gone by the time I came home. She wanted answers, answers that allowed her to be in charge of our relationship again. It was the double-barreled impact of exceptional sex and wondering why she wasn't 'the one'.(Me) "Are you seeing somebody?""You didn't answer my question.""I've answered plenty of your questions. Answer mine.""No. Men expect too much from a career woman." Translation: 'I'm a bitch that, regardless of my dynamite looks and raunchy sex drive, repels men because I'm a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.'"You do put your career first." Translation: 'I've totally forgotten that you are a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.' It was what she wanted to hear."Your turn.""Put on your tin-foil hat. I did it to save lives in Central Asia when the anthrax strikes were going on. I have this friend over there that people listen to.""Who? The Great Khan?"I didn't respond which wasn't the answer she was expecting."How?" as in how could I possibly be good friends with the master of arguably the third or fourth most powerful nation on the face of the Earth"That's one of those things I can't talk about.""Do you love her?""I don't know. I'm lousy at relationships. I get along with her daughter. Her father wants to bury me alive in the Nevada desert. The rest of the family seems to be coming around to the idea that I might be one of them.""That isn't a 'yes'.""No, it isn't.""Do you think you can ever love someone?" If you need translated, sigh, okay, 'why don't you love me?'"Do you mean 'when am I going to stop stumbling from botched relationship to botched relationship and make something constructive of my personal life?'""Yes.""Did I mention that I've discovered I have a grandfather?""No. That isn't answering my question.""It is in a way. Did I mention that Mom had ten sisters I wasn't aware of? I had an uncle, but he died in my arms.""No. My condolences on your uncle. What does this have to do with you becoming more of an adult and becoming accountable for your life?""Did I mention I have an adopted grandmother who is my spiritual twin?""No.""Don't worry about my uncle. He died trying to kill me. My aunts murdered him, though I can never prove it.""Oh.""My grandfather? He was the one who sent those terrorists to kill me. It was his litmus test to see if I was worthy of being in his family. I passed.""Are you serious?""Yes. My spiritual grandma? She's a retired professional assassin. Daily I interact with a half-dozen people who have killed multiple human beings in their lifetimes. You want to know why I'm not behaving responsibly? I am acting responsibly. I'm trying to not get the decent civilians around me killed."She took awhile digesting that. By that time, we had returned to Havenstone and picked up Chaz. I made introductions."So, are you really with the SRR?" she asked him."Yes.""Why are you with Cáel?""My mandate contains multiple answers. Suffice it to say, since my RAF contemporary will not be returning from the UK until tomorrow, I am presently chief liaison officer for Her Majesty's government with JIKIT.""Why are you coming along as Cáel's bodyguard? Don't you have something better to do with your Friday evenings?" Subtle and polite, Anais ain't. Why was I putting up with her? She was a sexual tornado who would try anything once. She was a real prize."First question: Cáel is a friend, his life is in perpetual danger and I consider it my duty to keep him alive. He would do the same for me. Second question: the nature of my present assignment doesn't leave much room for any meaningful romantic associations.""Hmm," I contemplated what wasn't being said. "Chaz, you are nailing one of my security chicks, aren't you?""Yes.""Which one?""A man of character doesn't brag about such things."Chaz was getting some Amazon nookie. I had to find a way to tell him how dangerous that was. She might decide he's make good father material, not a good thing where Amazons were concerned."Are all of his security personnel women?" Anais pressed."Miss Saint-Amour, Havenstone is a corporation that employs over ten thousand people. There are precisely five men currently on their payroll. All their security personnel are woman. Cáel has very limited, if any, input on the matter.""Are you sure about that?""Yes, Miss Saint-Amour. Who would trust a man of Cáel's dubious experience with his own security?" Chaz pointed out."Oh." She hadn't thought of that."Can you tell me why you think his life is in danger?""He is far more likely to be kidnapped than murdered. He possess certain sensitive data that powerful entities would like to access, thus I am his bodyguard tonight. Considering the quality of the women who normally guard him, I consider it an honor.""To guard Cáel, on a date?""He was kidnapped visiting a child at a playground. Yes, we believe his life is in constant peril. The training and experience of his security service is top flight and it has been a pleasure to serve among them.""Were you with him in Budapest and Romania?""The metro station?""Yes.""Yes.""Romania?""Do you mean the counterterrorism action south of Miercurea Ciuc?""Yes.""Yes."Wow, these two were lousy communicators. I could imagine Chaz propositioning one of my Amazons.Chaz: 'You have a superior feminine physique which I find appealing. Want to fuck?'Amazon: 'You look like you have the prerequisite stamina and battle scars to be part of the New Directive. Sure.'"Were you involved in the actual combat? The SRR is normally an intelligence gathering unit.""I was gathering battlefield intelligence, Miss. That required my close proximity to armed and actively hostile enemy aliens (as in they were in Romania illegally, not that they were all supernatural beings). My involvement resulted in two KIA's and one WIA.""Damn Chaz, you rock.""I am a professional.""How many did Pamela gak?""One KIA.""Just one? Whoa, that's so unlike her.""She kept trying to bracket the cell leader (aka Ajax). He had the Devil's Own Luck.""Cáel, why are you making light of all those deaths?" Anais chastised me. "How many terrorists did you wound, or kill?""I wounded one guy.""That is disingenuous," Chaz chided me. "You orchestrated the operation, showed tactical expertise in seizing the most critical terrain feature and engineered the death of the terrorist leader.""My Cáel did that? When I knew him, he was adverse to violence," Anais shook her head."Considering the considerable number of people he's killed, he's still adverse to physical confrontation where his own life is involved. But God help you if you threaten someone he is close to, though. He's the man who can get things done when the team is in a pinch.""Cáel, what happened to you?" she didn't sound upset at all."I learned to care for people beyond my immediate interest, you know, actual long-term relationships," with the unspoken 'as opposed to women I'm currently having sex with'."It took you long enough," she snipped. Reference her being a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.The interrogation was put on hold while we entered the restaurant and,"Mr. Nyilas?" the maytre dee greeted me."Yes.""We will get you a table right away," he nodded obsequiously. What the hell was up with that? Where was my two hour wait time? Oh yeah, I was a minor, fifteen seconds of fame celebrity."Will Ms. Sulkanen be joining you this evening?""No. She had to oversee a packaged Erythrosine-monosaccharides explosion in Boca Raton. Flaming plastic pink flamingo bits were raining down everywhere. I imagine it is taking an Everest-sized load of hush money to keep this out of the media," I replied. I was so eerily sincere, he bought it and a look of horror snuck over his face. I had become the public face of corporate malfeasance."Your table (gulp) is ready, Sir," he began to sweat. He took us to our table for four then beat a hasty retreat. Undoubtedly his civic-mindedness would have him calling up TMZ within a minute. After all, it was unlikely he owned any plastic pink flamingos, or invested in their construction. Once he was gone, Chaz let a thin smile break through his hard-earned military unfazed-ability."What exactly are packaged Erythrosine-monosaccharides?" he inquired."Packaged is self-explanatory. Erythrosine is pink food coloring and monosaccharides are,""Sugar," Anais frowned."Exploding pixie sticks, I have nieces and nephews. You are a genius at misdirection, Mr. Nyilas," he nodded."Thank you, Color Sergeant Tomorrow. It is nice to be appreciated for my bizarre and useless preoccupation," I grinned."You practice lying?" Anais' view of me dimmed."Miss, he excels at extraneous, outrageous utterances. No harm is intended.""Things like I was helping her find her contact lenses?" That had been my excuse when caught coming out of Maya's apartment. Sadly, Anais is highly perceptive and knew the lady didn't wear contacts. The copious female aroma wafting off me certainly hadn't helped."That's unfair," I countered. "Back then, I was a college nitwit suffering from undiagnosed nymphomania. I'd like to think I'm getting better."" tes-vous mieux?" she retorted in French."Je suis assez intelligent pour aller vers vous lorsque des vies taient sur la ligne." That's right, Anais. When my life and the lives of others were on the line, she was the first one I thought to call. Letting a woman know that you admire her profession, professionalism and reliability never hurts."Are you really a nymphomaniac?" she returned to English. French is the language of sex, as is any derivative of Sanskrit, Farsi and Portuguese. Reference the multitude of Indians, the hotness of Persian women and the outpouring of lust that is Brazil."I had a magnetoencephalography recently. The neuroscientists didn't know what to make of my brain patterns. I appear to be somewhat unique in my madness."She didn't believe me. I didn't blame her. No one really likes hearing a truth they don't want to accept."Here," I leaned forward and pointed to the tiny divot in my forehead. "I was stabbed with a needle in the skull. That is why they looked at me, not because of my sexual malfunction."She touched it to makes sure. We were interrupted by the waiter stopping by to see if we were ready to order yet."We will have three of the most expensive appetizers, dinners, deserts and wines," Anais preempted us. Ugh. I was either a millionaire by the wonders of Havenstone accounting, or broke. I foolishly never looked into such things, never having had much money before. I needed a distraction."Hey Chaz, nice suit," was what came to mind. It was a swell masterpiece of the tailoring arts I hadn't expect from a ground-pounder from a family of ground-pounders serving Queen and Country for generations."Thank you. Pamela picked it out for me, suspecting an event such as this would transpire. She told me you paid for it," Chaz answered."I did?""I made the reasonable deduction that she forged your signature on whatever medium was used for payment," he shrugged, "in the same way she exhibits a criminal tendency toward every other aspect of her life.""What does Pamela look like?" Anais glowered."She's his grandmother," Chaz responded politely. "They make quite the pair. Normally we don't let them alone in the same room. Bad things happen.""Bad things?""Things like that scenic hostel being reduced to ruin," he enlightened her."This is the supposed assassin?""Retired assassin," Chaz corrected her. "So far she's only, what is the term you two use?" he looked at me."Sending a Get-Well card to their next of kin? Pumping up the volume? Making a critical attitude adjustment? Retroactively revoking their lease on life? We have a few.""Yes, those. Pamela has assured the team director that she no longer accepts assignments of a murderous nature. These days she only practices her skills on those we determine are a threat to the greater endeavor," he explained."She murders people? You all murder people?" Anais furrowed her brow. "Cáel, do you engage in these activities?""What? Who? Me? No!" I waved off any conspiratorial associations. "The vast majority of people I've killed was totally by accident.""How do you accidently kill people?" she pierced my soul with her voice."Okay, I let them kill themselves because warning them would have resulted in me and some friends meeting very immediate violent ends," I pleaded."Miss Saint-Amour, I've talked to trustworthy people who were on the scene when this happened. It was a paramilitary action with the lives of children on the line. Cáel acted to save the lives of innocents," Chaz defended me. That is what Anais wanted to believe; that I was basically a decent human being. I was a pig, but a courageous one. I had confronted her after my infidelity, on the other side of the US/Canadian border where her jurisdiction didn't apply.I knew my revelations were hideously hard to believe. In my favor, I had been in dangerous places doing dangerous things. The Metro firefight had been captured on the place's security system (which had been leaked to the public thus leading to some delusional admirers into thinking I would make a great new King of Hungary even though they hadn't had a monarch since 1918 nor was I from the right (Hapsburg) family. In case this whole Havenstone thing came crashing down in flames, I needed to keep my options open).There had been a bomb threat at Mindszent which I had reputable sources call in (and where I had admittedly hung out with a few of the women who saved me from an earlier disaster) and Miercurea Ciuc had made the international news. Well over 100 people had died and some of the terrorists were still at large. The Romanian government declared I had been 'instrumental' in the confrontation without saying what 'instrumental' meant.I was heroically vague, more mature than where we left off and clearly incited pussy-twitching memories. We'd once fucked so continuously hard and long one weekend that neither one of us could stand until an hour after we stopped. Anais was well worth the pain I was contemplating. Sex with her wasn't the pain I was worried about. It was dodging all her calls afterwards. Once again reference her being a compulsive control freak with abysmal trust issues.Oh, how did I know she was reveling in our past coital moments? She hadn't walked out on me yet. She hadn't walked out when she found Odette in my domicile, when she met Juanita, or when she found out that I worked with highly experienced killers as part of my new daily routine.Normally Anais was smarter than this and had a career in law enforcement to contemplate. Lastly, she hadn't asked to be armed, despite getting permission from the NYPD. Had she decided to get a gun, Anais was sure in her hormonally-cascading mindset she would have shot me by now. I incite all kinds of passion in women. It is a curse.The rest of dinner was unremarkable. Anais continued to interrogate Chaz who proved that he was both skilled in counter-interrogation techniques and not willing to spill anymore secrets about what anyone at JIKIT did. However he had provided her with every logical reason to beat feet back across the Canadian border and she hadn't taken the hints about what a disaster sleeping with me could be.We drove Anais back to her motel, then Chaz and I headed home in silence. Despite his earlier declarations, he knew how to drive the 'right' way all along. As he was letting me out in front of my building, he gave me this pleasant warning."I'm not going to lecture you about not going back there, or avoiding the crazy ones. You already know better and are going back by her place anyway. I do advise that whatever you do, don't let her restrict your movements in any way. She's likely to make you pay double for your past indiscretions and take payment out on your cock. Good luck, Mate.""Wait," I stopped him. "Can you help me hotwire her bike? I can use that as an excuse to darken her doorway.""Dolt," he muttered. He helped me anyway because that's what really good friends do ~ assisting you in your self-destruction so we could joke about it later. At least that was what I hoped was going on. Chaz being a closet sadist was an unsettling idea. I didn't get to immediately pursue my plan because,(We work for you, don't we?)At 9 am, the President of the United States of America, after a late night briefing and a good night's sleep, decided that for the sake of world peace he had to intervene in Southeast Asia ~ Thailand to be specific, though he had some vague notion that a summit of regional leaders was in the offing and the US needed to establish some sort of game plan instead of looking impotent and disinterested.Based on carefully selected bits of information supplied to him by us (JIKIT), he ordered two carrier taskforces to move to the Gulf of Thailand to enforce an anticipated UN arms embargo and 'No-Fly Zone'. It would take four days (September 3rd) for Carrier Strike Group Nine (built around the USS Ronald Reagan) and the 11th Marine Expeditionary Unit (2,200 souls) to take up a position in the South China Sea close to the Gulf of Thailand. By fortuitous circumstance, 500 Marines and sailors were already deployed to Malaysia on a joint training mission with the Malaysian Marines.The second one, the USS Carl Vinson's Carrier Strike Group One wouldn't arrive until the 9th, six days later. What the US government wanted to know was what the Khanate and Vietnam would do in those long, lonely six days. The Khanate had as many modern, up-to-date combat aircraft on Woody Island as the Reagan could send up. The Vietnamese could add another 48 planes worth worrying about.There was the added complication that Thailand hadn't asked for help yet. His experts (us again) were suggesting that he was about to wake up one morning and find Khanate tanks rolling down the streets of Bangkok, which
Investigating the sins of a church have sent the Pity Party into an underground dungeon where they uncover an even more devilish plot.Use code DRAGONDEEZ10 for 10% off your own Story Engine Deck at https://storyenginedeck.com/Become a Member! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCMkvQUm_aXR-iKHVUTk0ILw/joinDDD Merch!https://dragondeezdice.shop/Timestamps (Beware of spoilers):Intro + Recap 00:00Rescue 4:25Combat 41:00Portal to The Hells 1:11:33Escape 1:35:34Shello & Pebble 2:03:16Travel 2:14:43Loot Distribution 2:17:18Group Discussions 2:25:03Next Town... 3:04:50
Cáel saves a spirit and risks losing his soul.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Life gives you two chances to get it right; be who you want to be, or who you need to be.(Making choices we can live with)"Trouble," Wiesława relayed to our vehicle. Velma had an 'issue' at my apartment. She'd gone ahead in order to see to my security. My GL-550 had come within a block of the apartment when Wiesława's call came."Tell me what the problem is," I demanded. Wiesława relayed my request."Your roommate won't let them search your bedroom," was the answer I got back."Fuck that," I grumbled. "Tell Velma I'm coming up. Wiesława, take us to the front of my place." She gave me a cautious look, testing my resolve. Sensing that I'd jump out if I had to, she spoke over her blue-tooth to Velma. She wisely didn't pass on Velma's vitriol at me poking my nose into my SD's business, protecting me.As we pulled up and double-parked, everyone piled out."Are we going to need any "extra" assistance?" Delilah suggested. Considering the flock of 'follow-up' cars and SUV's tailing us, I wasn't overly worried about the law enforcement angle.What was I worried about? It wasn't dark yet on a weekday and Timothy was home. Since Velma would have informed me if he was toting around the Black Death, this had to be a crisis of a personal nature, most likely my personal nature. Wiesława struggled to keep pace with me as I took the stairs three at a time. She'd given up on me letting her go first.At the third floor landing we came across one of Velma's team covering that approach. A second member was at the door and from inside, I could hear Velma cursing in Hittite under her breath. But first,"I really don't think you'll need your sword, Saku," Delilah advised. "Timothy's not that kind of trouble.""Hey Velma, Crewe (who, together with Constanza, I'd sparred with, way long ago) and Timothy," I loudly announced myself just as I stepped in. "What seems to be the problem?" Timothy sighed and gave a head-toss to my closed bedroom door. Since I didn't want to be an asshole, I turned to Velma. "Let me send a neutral party to check things out." I had so many to choose from, Miyako, Selena, Vincent and Delilah.Saku might kill on general principle. Buffy and Wiesława were Amazons and I was beginning to think that Amazons, shit. I sighed, groaned and lowered my head. I looked to Timothy and clapped my wrists together (slave-like). He nodded. Rhada. Mother-puss-bucket! What was I going to do?"I've changed my mind, Velma, the room is fine," I started off. "I know for a certainty that my life is not imperiled by my visitor. Everyone else, I am about to have sex, so could you please head out to a restaurant and give me an hour, or two?" I took in the rest. Timothy coughed and pointed to the ceiling. "Three hours, " another cough, "four hours." No more coughing."Who is it?" Buffy snarled, lest I forgot that I was her scratching post. She was resenting the lack of scratching going on between us. I was about to tell her I needed some private time,, or just not tell her anything. But I was working on not being a jerk. I pulled Buffy to Timothy's room and gave her the lowdown. She mulled over the information. Her wrapping a hand around the back of my head and pulling me into a steamy kiss was unlooked for."Okay," she smiled. "Please don't think I'm not righteously pissed with the two of you, but I know you are doing the best you can with your limited survival instincts.I'll take care of everyone." Off she went and in moments, the room had cleared out until it was just Timothy and me."She stopped by work this afternoon looking pretty badly beaten up, emotionally," he explained. "I doubt she's slept in three days and she's really confused about all kinds of things. I was in the process of letting her know you weren't going to be back for two more days when the Welcome Wagon arrived.I figured the last thing she needed, before seeing you, was public exposure," he said."Thanks buddy," I hugged him. "A few hundred guys tried to kill me and Aya last night, so we came back early. Now," I steeled myself, opened the door and entered my room. Rhada was at the head of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chin and my pillows stacked up around her in some sad effort at a visual barrier.Her eyes had a sunken quality to them that suggested someone two steps past hopelessness. She was waiting for me to say something, which was an added truckload of bad news in my book. I began to undress in an unhurried manner. The shirt came off. Working the belt free came next."I've missed you," I said in a calm, yet positive manner. No response.I finished undressing while she remained frozen and emotionally clouded. I made some semi-educated guesses. Her mind was probably an incomprehensible cyclone of clashing upbringing principles and adult desires. She didn't need to be built up, Rhada needed to be rescued. That kind of emotional crisis was something I didn't need, or want, at this moment in my life.Rhada had nowhere else to go. Her martial bravery was of no use in the matter of her heart's insistent call. Her fear was of a different nature. She was looking down that unholy, dark corridor that was the last walk of all failed Amazons. She craved her personal slavery to a man and master. It was tough to move farther away from her native culture than that, or so she thought."Have you missed me?" I asked with authority. I ran two fingers along her left jawline. Rhada nodded. It was a rather feeble effort. "I asked you a question.""Yes," she sniffled."I am curious why you are hiding your body from me, Rhada," I prodded her. I wasn't 'curious'; I was peeved and she knew it"I don't know why I'm here," she moaned."Oh, " I mused. I was on her like lightning.She struggled weakly as we rolled around until she was ass-up on my lap. I had her right arm pinned to her back. Two sharp blows rained down on her covered posterior. Just two for now."I asked you a question. We both know your answer was inadequate," I spoke softly. Two more stinging, open-handed slaps to her buttocks. "I have defeated you in battle," two more smacks. "I have repeatedly taken you by force as my captive," two more with her accompanying moan."What makes you think you can defy me now, Rhada?" The promised blows did not fall. "I own you, don't I?" She moaned wantonly from anticipation of the spanking that wasn't coming. The lesson was simple: punishment and reward were mine to dispense, not for her to demand."I'm sorry," she mumbled."The incompetent are sorry, failures are sorry, useless people are sorry," I stated, followed by two more loud, cupped-hand blows on her ass. "People apologize when they commit an error. People apologize if they plan to learn from their mistakes. Now, are you someone else's miserable excuse for a human being, or are you MY person who learns from her lapses in judgment?""I bring shame to my people," she whimpered. Two more smacks fell upon her backside."Why do you insist on insulting me, Rhada?" two more, far harder, spanks landed causing her to gasp in pain. "Of all the Amazons I have defeated, I picked you to be mine, captive, no other. I thought you had the fierce spirit worthy of my fighting prowess.Your crawling up and dying inside disappoints me," I continued. It didn't disappoint me; it scared me. Rhada was so fiery and feisty. Seeing her mentally ground down into a crippled state ate at my mind."I'm afraid, Cáel," she choked out between her tears.The emotional riptide she was going through caused her to shake uncontrollably. I telegraphed my intent to move her, face down, to the middle of the bed. As I straddled her, I dragged her hands over her head and crossed her wrists. I nuzzled her shoulder, the crux of her neck, and ear."What are you afraid of, my captive?" I murmured.The term 'captive' along with the gentle affections brought forth a pleasurable response from her."I am perverse," she whispered. "I want you to take me as I cry and scream. I want to feel your body pressing down on me as you are doing now.I beg to be spanked, lashed, tease and tormented by you. Steal my sight and hearing. Render me helpless and utterly at your mercy, my Cáel," she pleaded. I'd allow the 'my'."And?" I mused."And?" she was confused."I was waiting for you to request something perverse, something I wouldn't do to you," I explained. I punctuated that by pulling her shirt aside and biting down on her shoulder strong enough to leave deep indentations on her flesh."Aha!" she yelped. She still wasn't making the connection, how incredibly stubborn of her."Do you doubt my bravery?" She didn't respond, so I bit into and worried her left earlobe. "Do you doubt my dedication to the Host?""No," she moaned. "You are an excellent warrior.""So we both agree I have earned the right to take you as my captive," I teased her."This is why I find your insolence to be so confusing," I kept up my routine. "It is almost as if you would rather be bound, whipped, beaten, spanked, bitten, lashed, covered with hot wax, blindfolded, and gagged instead of giving me my due obedience." Rhada's deep sensual moan was what I had been looking for. She spread her legs slightly then pushed her ass against my crotch."I am yours," she sniffled slightly. "You defeated me in battle and I can expect no other fate.""Dates take off their clothes. Slaves strip before their masters," I related. Not true. I had enjoyed multiple stripteases in my time and even give a few. What Rhada wanted to know was that I hungered for her naked flesh."You are on top of me," she protested. I pulled her braid to the side and chomped down her right shoulder. That earned me another squeal. Rhada's initial efforts were frantic, inspired by her pain. Within seconds she recalled our shared moments and slowed down. She knew I liked to watch her clothes come off and go back on. I'm odd that way.I rewarded her obedience with alternating kisses and nips to her freshly exposed flesh. As we progressed, Rhada became more insistent for sexual attention. Her finely honed thighs and abdominal muscles ground her buttocks against my cock in a continuous, circular motion. In our current state, she couldn't get her pants and panties off.When I rolled off, Rhada shot me a worried look. First she flashed up fear because she mistook my look for one of anger. In a second, she keyed to my real mood. I was going to own her, stretch her to her limits and then take it one step further. I was going to use my war captive as I saw fit, rip my pleasure from her passion and break her doubts down to their foundations.She shimmied out of her remaining clothing. I rummaged up the appropriate toys with a bit of an amused snort. Odette had organized the 'toy box' (including a bill for 'modernizing and updating' of my equipment.) What girl does that for a guy, categorize sexual aids she knows you are going to use on other women in your life?"Loosen your braid," I directed her after I turned and soaked in the view. She was in the center of the bed, kneeling with her buttock resting on her heels. Rhada's hands rested just above the knees, her great brown eyes had more of their old spark to them. Part of that was caused by my words sinking into her psyche. The rest was her love affair with my physique.Me and all my scars, plus I had a new one for her to judge and appreciate."Small caliber round from a Seven Pillar's QCW-Type 05," I informed her. Amazons loved their weaponry and their martial exploits."Did you kill him?" she asked with her intensity overcoming her attempt at a demur nature."Him and a bunch of other guys," I chose to answer as she unbraided her silky, black hair that cascade down to the small of her back. I was the son of a Chicago working stiff, not some super-soldier."You fought for the Host and killed our enemies," she tried to ease my mind.I wanted to feel bad about what had happened. The horror I had inflicted would never go away."Most of them were burned alive," I enhanced her experience by ripping open my own, fresh mental scar tissue. For Rhada, ruthlessness, martial valor and battlefield accomplishments were their own aphrodisiac.In her translation of events, her captor had proven yet again he was a fearless, masculine champion, a lion-heart. I put one knee on the bed and waited. Rhada had to shuffle to me. It was interesting to see the magnetic effect of the three items I held in my casual grasp, a leather collar, a thin silver-coated chain and a pair of leather handcuffs. I motioned with the cuffs first.I left it for her to discern my intention. I wanted her to put her wrists forward, yet I wanted to train her to know my wishes. Not only would it keep her mind and perceptions occupied, it would give her a needed sense of learning and broadening her education. It was a very subtle narrowing of the eyes that I used to tip her off.She half-turned with her wrists at her back, caught my 'displeasure' and then extended her arms toward me. I cuffed her right wrist, then her left wrist and finally cinched them together with their two bronze links, all the while demanding she retain eye contact with me. With our silent measuring of our true grit, we established our positions.Without that clash of wills, everything else would be tawdry trinkets of no value. As she accepted those bonds, she set aside her willingness to challenge me and embraced our new sense of harmony. A corner had been turned. Submission became the only outcome her destiny allowed. Mamitu; the Amazon belief that the Goddesses put nothing before the sisters that experience hadn't prepared them for.Out of arrogance, she had struck me. Destiny had prepared me for the fight and I had won. In tribute to destiny, Rhada had acknowledged the lesson and was finally learning from it. I yanked her wrists up roughly until they were extended high over her head. Rhada kept them there, as I intended, because now was time for the collar.This time she couldn't keep her eyes from flickering to the device until it passed beneath her chin. With the cuffs, I had been deliberate and relentlessly purposeful. The collar was an easy gesture, me exerting my rights as her captor and master, nothing more. I spared her a smile. Her dark brown-olive complexion, nearly black around the areola and nipple, was extended by the raising of the arms overhead for my viewing pleasure.Lastly, there was the chain. It had clasps at both ends, so I hooked it around the single ring on the collar and pulled Rhada toward me. I feasted on her lips, touched tongue to tongue inside and outside our mouths, and ended up chewing her lower lip. As I pulled and plucked it with my teeth, my fingers began to coax a stiffening of her teats.Gentle caresses turned into vigorous touching that evolved into painful pinches between the thumb and forefinger and energetic plucking. I let my kisses migrate from her lips to nose (briefly) then her cheeks and the underside of her jawline. Rhada made a gasping-choking noise as I nibbled her flesh.My distraction must have worked because she missed my hands moving down. The middle and forefinger of my left became a wedge working between her buttocks. With the right, I led with my middle finger, using my fore- and ring-fingers to part her labia. The clip-rings of the chain were secured on each thumb.Her fluids turned her sex into warm molasses coating folds of molten tenderness. My solo probing finger didn't penetrate, not yet. I ran the length of her vulva vestibule, rubbing her vaginal and urethral openings. Rhada expressed a piteous whine as I stoked her sexual frustrations. I ratcheted up my torture when my left twin fingers reached her sphincter.Tap the opening, tease her with false penetrations. My lips reached her neck right beneath her ear. I pulled in the flesh with a powerful suction, grabbing the tiny tip of taut flesh with my teeth. Her dolorous pleading ramped up as I delved my fingers in simultaneously. Rhada's anal ring pulsed, alternating between ushering my forefinger inside and resisted my progress.I was breaching her defenses without lubrication. It was wiggling, tentative advancement on my part and sensations of extreme sensitivity on her part. By comparison, her vagina virtually sucked me in. Having been denied sex for so long (if you counted two weeks as long) all the while fantasizing to the point of tripwire anticipation, she was quickly rising to orgasm."Do not," I cautioned her. Rhada trembled. Her groans became guttural as she reached down into her physical conditioning to exhibit some control over her racing heart rate and labored breathing. Had I stopped my assault, she might have held out. I didn't. The task for us both was to push her past the point of control. She was going to lose, that was given.How she lost was the lesson. What level of stimulation was going to be too much? She fought it with every fiber of her being. She fought it for me. Rhada sweated profusely and vibrated like a gypsy tambourine. She could not win. She knew I never intended for her to win. But I wanted her to reach down deep and fight.She would fail and I would punish her for her failure, but it would be a punishment that she felt was well-deserved, and she craved that. Even her failure was part of our dynamic, captor and captive. Pain with a purpose. Pain as a thread that united us. She could not wound herself the way I could. Everything she could inflict, she would sense and prepare for.I provided torment from unexpected angles and stimuli in a myriad of forms. Everything faded until only the touch and the pleasure of the messenger remained."Urah, " her opening declaration of the overwhelming tide was animalistic and desperate.For fifteen seconds I continued to play with her as her climax turned upon itself, building and becoming more chaotic. In the back of my mind, I realized my sex play was being cruel to my neighbors. I had to hope the anonymous death threats would keep Mr. Fiennes at bay.I'd deal with my 'friendly' female neighbor later, once I figured out how to repay her for her patience and the cookies she'd sent over when I was ill. For Rhada, it was a temporary cessation of my sexual attention and allowing her to rest her body against mine. I admired her ability to hold her arms aloft. Still,"You failed," I whispered into her ear. Rhada hiccupped. I dragged my fingers covered with her cunt juice up her pubic mount, abdomen, around the belly button and between her breasts. At the conclusion of the trip was the resounding 'click' of that end of the leash being attached to her collar. "I don't think you have been humble before me."I looped the chain around her shoulder, then dragged it over her left breast. She shivered. My next stop was beneath her right breast. Her nipple seemed to swell up as I rubbed the other loop all over her areola. Next under the right mammary, then looping the chain around her right arm before reaching around the back and securing the second clasp.It was both a symbol of her captivity and body ornamentation. The shiny silver links contrasted with her dusky, sweaty flesh.
Holy Hell that was a long release gap! But here it is, the next episoide I'd promised. If you remember that I'd promised it. And if you're still interested in what I'd promised, which was an episode about four different Jaws knockoff movies with killer animals. This it a fun one between myself and Michael Heffernan, who was a good sport about having to watch four movies of wildly varying quality.
Welcome to Episode #207 of the Life Happens, Laugh Anyway podcast. Comedian Tracy DeGraaf and her co-host and bestie, Cathrine, invite listeners into their Pod Lab where a fresh rearrangement has taken place. Tracy shares her solo efforts in creating a cozy recording space, much to Catherine's appreciation. The conversation transitions into excitement as they discuss an unexpected email from one of their listeners, Pat, who has crossed over from being a humor consumer to a humor contributor. Pat's heartfelt message and her decision to sponsor the podcast bring joy and laughter to the hosts, who delve into how Pat discovered them and express their gratitude for her support. Amidst talks of sleep arrangements and future video plans, they humorously reflect on real-life interruptions during their podcast recordings, bringing a genuine and relatable touch to their storytelling. As always, Tracy and Cathrine keep the laughter rolling while engaging with their audience in their unique and charming style. In addition, the hosts covered the documentary Holy Hell, the bizarre true story of an alleged sociopathic narcissistic cult leader Jaime Gomez. He was an out-of-work actor who was once known to wear nothing but Speedos and eyeliner. You won't believe the mess he made of his followers lives and the mind control methods he used to keep people in his web for decades. The episode closes (as always) with scripture and pointing to the one true God. ;0) A note from your hosts... Do you LOVE the podcast? Become a Humor Contributor by donating $5 per month or a one-time gift of any amount. Click here to go to Tracy's website and help us offset the cost of producing weekly episodes for your binging pleasure and personal growth. Funds collected from our Humor Contributors are used for: monthly platform fees email service fees editing costs equipment upgrades And...we are adding video to this podcast ASAP! If you look forward to each episode, please help us keep going and growing by crossing over from Humor Consumer to Humor Contributor. Thank you so much! Tracy and Cathrine
Send us a textDaniel and Duffy are back for Season 4! New Years Resolutions and the desire for change are common this time of year. The word of God, (the Bible) is the ultimate template for lasting change. The discussion today covers how we apply it and what stands in the way of our success or lasting change? Duffy and Daniel talk about some tough topics and experiences they've had, as well as ideas to help us through hard times. All things are HOLY…. But they also have the opportunity to get perverted! HOLY or HELLY! Which direction are we headed? Our tag line is “I have never heard it like that before !” It's our hope that you will be inspired by what you hear today. God truly loves you and we are so glad you're listening!!Support the showCheck out what's happening locally with “1LoveHTX” and ways to get involved. www.1LoveHTX.org
Hello and welcome back to another episode of B Bin Horror! On this week's episode we talk about the 2021 found footage anthology film, V/H/S 94. V/H/S 94 consists of five separate parts, "Holy Hell" which was written and directed by Jennifer Reeder, "Storm Drain" which was written and directed by Chloe Okuno, "The Empty Wake" which was written and directed by Simon Barrett, "The Subject" which was written and directed by Timo Tjahjanto, and last but not least "Terror" which was written and directed by Ryan Prows. On this week's episode Dylan and Fred discuss each segment and rank them, they also talk about which short segment they would like to see turned into full length films. If you like what you hear please follow us on Instagram and Facebook @bbinhorror. You can also send us emails at bbinhorror@gmail.com and please don't forget to subscribe to B Bin Horror on whatever podcast platform you listen on! *B Bin Horror theme music - "Uprising" by Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio*
Being Subversive Isn't As Much Fun As It LooksIn 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels. “Friends stand by you through the struggles your enemies create” "You are depraved and despicable," Mhain seethed."I get that a lot; now get out," I growled back, "because I have a thousand other bitches who are, scratch that, 999 other bitches, Doctor Kennedy is growing on me; the rest I'm not so sure about, who are making my life miserable.""Don't get your hopes up, Mr. Braxton," Doctor Kennedy warned me. "I'm happily married.""Cool," I responded. "I hope to be like that one day.""Happily married?" Virginia inquired."No; a female law professor at an all-girls school," I grinned. "It sounds like a real cool job.""Feel free to hit him," Dana interrupted. "I swear that is the only way to get him to learn anything; or the only way we will discuss at this moment." Ah, sex. I thought my life had gone on a bit too long without the mention of sex. "It is also a fun form of stress relief."A painful blow rocked my shoulder and nearly sent me sprawling."You are right," Gabrielle noted clinically. "I feel better." Fuck, she hits hard. I look at her and try not to get pissed off and say something stupid. She makes my life difficult but my existence at FFU makes her life far too interesting as well. Whack! Someone hit me with a briefcase."I have to agree," Doctor Kennedy confirmed. "It has a therapeutic quality to it.""Bloody hell," I blurt out."Everyone, please stop physically abusing Zane," Ms. Goodswell snapped. "He's a student, for Pete's sake. He's not subject to corporal punishment.""Virginia, have you ever punched or slapped Zane?" Dana teased. "Give it a try before dismissing it out of hand.""He likes spanking," Barbie Lynn beamed happiness as she skipped by on her way to my/our bedroom. Technically, it is mine, Vivian's, Barbie Lynn's, Rio's, and Mercy's, plus whoever is feeling lonely on a given night. As for the spanking, I'm more of a giver than a receiver, but I doubt explaining that right now would be appropriate."Uhmm, okay, I think that is my cue to leave," Virginia piped up."I have rounds to make," Gabrielle added."I'm going home to my family," Doctor Kennedy headed out."I'm going to stay here, kick back, and watch some Pay-per-view," Dana grinned."What are you going to watch?" Hudson inquired."BBC America has this show called Copper that I've been meaning to catch," Dana informed her."Mind if I watch an episode with you?" Hudson asked."Sure, knock yourself out. You can pick the second show," Dana yawned. "It's only Zane's money after all." The rest of my guests filed out and I retired to the showers and then to my room. The day's stress revealed itself as the women curled into bed calmly and soon were cuddled together, including the odd ones out.On the far side we had the rather unusual appearance of Valarie. Next to her was Rio, who had her arms wrapped around Mercy. Mercy was snuggled against Barbie Lynn who held the middle spot. I was on my side, face-to-face with Barbie Lynn. After a few minutes, Vivian came to bed, wedged up against my back, and put an arm over me. I was in close proximity to several beautiful women but as long as no one doused the room with an aphrodisiac, we'd do just fine."Zane," Barbie Lynn whispered, "my vibrator burned out this morning, and I'm terribly horny."Oh, fuck! Barbie Lynn gazing down at me, I'm not sure another guy should ever see this because it could break one's heart to see it once and never again. She's built a faint sheen of sweat on her body already and she's looking at me with a definite Zen to fuck. My cock is cocooned deep inside her rectum, rubbing inside as she rotates forward on her hips.The distant, dreamy look in her eyes flashes to alertness as she catches me looking at her; 'hi' she whispers. I nod and smile so she inclines into me so that we can start kissing. She leads in with her tongue along my lips. I touch the tip of her tongue with my own, snaking inside her mouth before we are done. She starts murmuring, deepens our kiss, and begins rubbing my nipples."Vivian?" Valarie says softly. She snuck around the bed to settle behind my guardian."Yes?" Vivian replies. She is on her side watching Barbie Lynn and I."I, umm,” Valarie moans.Out of the corner of my eye I catch it as Val's hand brushes Vivian's hair off her neck and her lips start suckling on the exposed flesh. Vivian closes her eyes briefly but doesn't move Valarie away."Oh, Baby," Barbie pants with barely an inch separating our lips, "I know I say this often but I so love this. You tear me up inside and I want it so bad all the time, it scares me.""Vaginal sex with you scares me," I tease back."Will it be even better?" she draws in an even deeper, breast flaunting breath."You never know, but you are so damn good at everything else, I can't imagine you doing anything but haunting my dreams forever," I say, as I coax her movements with my hands on her hips, flanks, and thighs. Barbie shows her appreciation by running her hand through my bangs and pushing my hair back so that she can cover my forehead, eyes and nose with kisses."You like that romantic shit, don't you, Mercy-slut?" Rio grumbles playfully from the other side."Yes," Mercy whispers. I know Rio well enough to know that when a spiteful reply isn't immediately forthcoming, she's dusting off (and unchaining) her Better Angel. Mercy is looking at Barbie Lynn and me, her head facing sideways as she lies on her back. Rio crawls on top of Mercy, prompting Mercy to open her legs, and locks her hands over her head to gaze down on her."Your skin is so pure, your hair so black, and your eyes so full of passion, it breaks my heart to look at you, My Little Whore," Rio begins. She leans in and bites Mercy's earlobe, causing her victim to moan and buck up slightly. "Mercy, you give and give, making me so hot inside that I want to grab you and never let go.""Really?" Mercy gasps. "I, ""Don't get used to this," Rio growls with famished sexual enticement. "But, well, I want you to know that I hope all our children look just like you." Poor Rio was running out of material. It was terribly uncomfortable for me to show her where to go. I ran my hands over Barbie's body, which is an absolute torture I am forced to struggle through repeatedly.I start by massaging Barbie Lynn's tits, rotating three fingers over the nipples before rolling up the whole meaty breast in my palms. Barbie Lynn starts pushing back on my cock harder and grunting to the rhythm."Damn, Mercy," Rio teases, "I love these titties." She accentuates by sucking the top third of one breast into her mouth and twirling her tongue around it.Vivian gives a visible shiver from her side of the bed; Valarie has done something to her beneath the sheets to turn her on. In the interim while I have been watching Rio and Mercy, Valarie has been working over Vivian, temple to shoulder, with her lips. Now I see Vivian pulling up her left (upper) leg until it is resting snugly against my upper ribs, giving someone easier access to her snatch.She's also put her left arm behind her back between herself and Valarie. I'm starting to wonder if there is something in the air filters of my place, some undiscovered aphrodisiac mold, fungi, or spores that turns nice, virtuous girls into promiscuous bi-sexual vixens. To the best of my knowledge and belief, neither Valarie nor Vivian had the slightest lesbian tendencies before they started coming to my room.I give Barbie Lynn's luscious orbs one final squeeze before migrating my hold down to her ass, giving each cheek a double-slap. Barbie Lynn exhales a huff of ecstatic relief as the impact travels through her. Rio smirks and follows suit, her hand reaching between their thighs, prying Mercy's leg up, up and up until Mercy's knee is nearly at her breast."Your body is the first female form that I've ever lusted after," Rio murmurs as she rubs and pats Mercy's buttocks. "I think I've always wanted you, to taste you on my tongue, your scent strong in my mind and your sweet, sweet ass under my hand." Mercy brings one hand up to stroke Rio's cheek as she gives a strangled sob. No matter how much Mercy fears loving a woman, Rio can chisel that away and get her to love openly and freely.Barbie Lynn bounces up and slams down on me repeatedly as she is coming to the end of her fuse."Zane, Zane, oh yeah," she pants. Vivian chooses this moment to sneak her climax in on the rest of us. I am vaguely aware of her biting her lip, rocking her hips under the sheets, and perspiration beginning to bead on her lower lip."Holy God, Christ, and, my, hot damn, Val, ugh, Oh, God!" Vivian squeals as Valarie vigorously whips her hand in a tight pattern, cloaked from sight but obvious to the knowledgeable. Vivian's clit, lips, and the gateway to her cunt are all supers-stimulated. Valarie cools her down and holds her with enough strength to stop Vivian from rolling face-first into the sheets."Jesus Loves Me!" Barbie Lynn screams one last time. Her body bows, her breasts thrust forward and up, bouncing so deliciously while her thighs tremble in climax. Her anal muscles rippling from sphincter toward my cockhead are grinding me toward orgasm. Finally, she collapses against me, still twitching and fighting for breath.With my arms wrapped around her, I roll us over toward Mercy and Rio, placing Barbie Lynn on her back. Barbie Lynn has her legs pulling back before I can even move to push them back. While I had never fully pulled out, I was nearly there. I shove my hips forward, forcing my cock back in hard, causing Barbie Lynn to grunt, her mouth to gape open, nostril flaring, as her eyes squeeze shut."Oh, hell, yeah," Barbie Lynn gasps, "hammer me!""Oh, fuck," Valarie moans, "I am so lonely." Vivian is still roaming her hands over Valarie's special place, picking up the pace as she's inspired by Barbie Lynn's passion. Rio expresses her perverse nature by going at Mercy slow while the rest of us are going gangbusters."Here is my baby-smooth, tasty friend," Rio says as she kisses Mercy's bald twat. Rio pushes her thighs apart, her leg muscles taught while laying on the bed. Rio's restraint could only last so long. Every lick became more insistent, every nibble elicited a greater yelp, and every hip-thrust by Mercy into Rio's hungry mouth was more desperate.Valarie gives off one long, cavernous growl, then screams in between Vivian's shoulder blades."Damn," Vivian whispers, as a sympathetic orgasmic shiver coasts through her body. I'm pushing up on my knuckles, Barbie Lynn's legs between them as I rise up until my bulbous head is fixed in her sphincter; then I slam down once more. She's rocking her hips up to maximize the depths I reach as she cries out, again and again and again.When I finally let go, I feel a volcano of lust, frustration, and fulfillment exploding out all at once. Barbie Lynn's head sways rapidly side to side as she comes unglued."Zane, Jesus loves me, Jesus Loves Me!" she howls loud enough to shake the glass panels overhead. Those words ringing in my ears are going to haunt me in whatever church I go to."Ugh, ugh, ugh, Love, right there, feels so good," Mercy drags out with shallow breathes."Umm,” Rio gurgles. Mercy has gotten quite wet and visibly aroused. I'm sure Rio has worked a finger or two into the action and in Mercy's ass. Mercy starts bouncing off the sheets as she hisses out the last of her restraint."Mother-fucker-god-damn!" Mercy cries out. Rio growls, slurps, and sucks up Mercy's cunt juice while lapping up and down her slit."That's my baby," Rio's fluid-marked face looks up from between Mercy's legs and smiles. "Was that good for you?" Rio asks? Mercy nods dreamily. "Are you a happy little whore?" Rio teases. Again, Mercy nods with pleasure. "Did you use the 'L' word, Ass-fuck slut?" Rio hardens.This time Mercy realizes her mistake and shudders. She raises her head and looks into Rio's eyes."Yes. I'm sorry, Rio," Mercy mumbles."Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Bitch," Rio sneers. "Tomorrow morning you are going to get it coming and going, all day long." I am actually aware of what that threat means."Okay," Vivian sighed, with more contentment than annoyance, "we've all cum so let's try and get some sleep.""I haven't gotten off yet," Rio chuckled. I knew what I had to do before someone else volunteered my services."Come here, Rio." I smile to her and extend a hand. "Let me get another taste of my best bro.""I'll clean you up," Barbie Lynn grins up at me, as she wiggles her body around my own so she's on top again. She slithers down my torso, waggles my still mostly hard cock against her lips, then begins to take it into her mouth. Barbie Lynn's tongue licks along my shaft as she gobbles up more of my rod.I expect Rio to come over but Mercy, following along and lying on her belly, her head propped up on her hands and elbows as she watches my blonde angel's skilled fellatio, is a bonus. Rio ends up near my pillow, one hand on my chest and the other resting between Mercy's ass cheeks. Her fingers are definitely sliding in and out of Mercy's cunt. If Mercy is a bit sore, she's smart enough not to complain to her Mistress about it."What do you have in mind, Zane?" Rio catches my gaze."I want your teeth tearing up the mattress with your ass up in the air as I plow you through the headboard," I inform her. I make a focus group assessment of the situation by slipping a finger into her cunt, she's creaming already.For Rio, the greater physicality of the sex, the better it is for her. She'll let me have my foreplay and some good loving, but she goes wild over the raw, brutal act of sex itself."I think you are ready to put that smile on her face," Barbie Lynn taunts Rio as she informs me she's finished. "Come with me," Barbie Lynn turns to Mercy. "My nipples need some attention. Can you do that for me?"After checking with Rio, Mercy gives a hungry look and lick of the lips at Barbie Lynn. Barbie crawls over Mercy to land on her back on the far side. Mercy twirls around and latches on to Barbie Lynn's left breast with such rapidity, it momentarily causes my visage to blur."I want some of that," Valarie suddenly blurts out.She makes her own quick trek around Rio and me as we are still positioning ourselves to come swooping down on Barbie Lynn's right side. The right nipple disappears into our school biker girl's mouth with a decidedly audible smacking of the lips. Val's hand starts to stroke the inside of Barbie Lynn's thigh but Mercy's free hand reaches over and starts tweaking Valarie's closest nipple. Yes, I definitely must check the air filters.Rio resumes her sensually crawl my way and I give her a beguiling look to lure her in. I'm on her in a flash once she's close enough for me to make my move. She screeches like an alley cat but I've got a hand on the back of her head and the other on her hip as I slam her face first into the pillow."Bastard," she screams through the fabric, but she's not following through with the anger."Give it up, Bitch," I snarl back. My cock slides full-throttle all the way into her cunt on the first pass. Her cunt feels like slick, melted butter as I bottom out in her hole. At the same time, I let up on her head a bit."Oh, fucking-A," Rio gasps. "Did someone sneak a gerbil up behind me or is it Needle-cock pretending he's a man?" I give her another powerful slam. "Oh, fuck, stop that.""What? Too much for the bitch whose had it all?" I tease Rio.
Co-hosts Beth Stovell and Ryan Reed speak with Derek Ryan Kubilus about his research and writing, including his new book, Holy Hell: A Case against Eternal Damnation (Eerdmans, 2024). Derek Kubilus is an Ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church, serving the East Ohio Conference and appointed to Ashland First UMC. He is a member of the Order of St. Luke and the former host of the Cross Over Q podcast. His new book is Holy Hell: A Case Against Eternal Damnation published with Eerdmans.
HOLY HELL! In Episode 39, Ben & Eric break down the Panthers dominant VICTORY and Andy Dalton's incredible performance. Subscribe to our YouTube channel (https://youtube.com/@KeepPurringPodcast?si=Kzy3LlpICnBaHYEJ) Visit our Linktree to follow us on Socials (https://linktr.ee/KeepPurring) Visit our Website (KeepPurringPodcast.com) Have a question or discussion topic for us? DM on Twitter or send us an Email (KeepPurringPodcast@gmail.com)
Holy Hell! I interviewed comics after they went up at the Gratiot Pub Open MicIt was a bitch to edit. https://open.spotify.com/episode/5uD4aP6rJ9n2RrmrMRZKjN?si=6f2902fabb204d9ahttps://open.spotify.com/episode/5uD4aP6rJ9n2RrmrMRZKjN?si=6f2902fabb204d9a
In one of the most hyped movies in recent memory, Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman are finally together in DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE. But does it live up to the hype? Let's talk about it...Plus, Robert Downey, Jr. is back at Marvel. We discuss his new role.
Returning guests, Stacie Stukin and Phillip Deslippe are joining the show once again to speak about their newest investigative piece on the troublesome boarding schools of the 3HO community. Stacie Stukin is an arts and culture journalist from Los Angeles. She was a contributing editor at Yoga Journal and has also written about yoga for the Los Angeles Times and Time Magazine. Over the years, she's had the opportunity to write about Kundalini Yoga as taught by Yogi Bhajan, including a majorly impactful article for Los Angeles Magazine about the sexual misconduct allegations against Yogi Bhajan and the subsequent reckoning within the 3HO community. Philip Deslippe is a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of Religious Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and holds an MA from the University of Iowa. He has written articles for several academic journals including the Journal of Yoga Studies and Tricycle magazine. Philip was himself a member of 3HO for about a decade after taking a Kundalini Yoga class at his undergraduate college in the mid-1990s. He left in 2008 and went on to conduct research into the origins of Yogi Bhajan's Kundalini Yoga that culminated in the ground-breaking 2012 article "From Maharaj to Mahan Tantric" for Sikh Formations. In this revealing conversation, Stacie & Phillip delve into the disturbing practices within the 3HO community, particularly focusing on the abusive and neglectful conditions at the boarding schools in India. Philip provides a detailed history of Yogi Bhajan's rise to power and the hierarchical structure he created, which facilitated widespread abuse and control. Stacie shares harrowing accounts from former members, highlighting the long-lasting impact of the community's toxic environment. The discussion also covers the recent reparations program for survivors of abuse within 3HO. While the program aimed to provide settlements and institutional changes, many claimants found it re-traumatizing and inadequate. Read Stacie & Phillip's "3HO's Boarding Schools Were A Living Hell": https://www.baaznews.org/p/3hos-boarding-schools-abuse-yogi-bhajan Find more info on Stacie and her work here: https://www.staciestukin.com/ Find more info on Phillip and his work here: https://philipdeslippe.com/ Connect with Us on Social Media: Twitter: www.twitter.com/_indoctrination Facebook: www.facebook.com/indoctrinationpodcast Instagram: www.instagram.com/indoctrinationpodcast YouTube: www.youtube.com/rachelbernsteinlmft Your reviews and ratings on Spotify and Apple/iTunes are greatly appreciated and help the show reach a wider audience.
DEATH FROM ABOVE!!! If you have seen this gem of a motion picture, you know what means... HOLY HELL!!! On this new episode of MOTR, we are not only speaking about the very underrated movie directed by Gareth Edwards, but this is also the first episode of the newest member of our little group. So give us a listen and you will enjoy... Also, be on the lookout, this isn't going to be our only show out this week... CHEERS!!! INTRO: PEG & THE REJECTED -- ALL SING ALONG REFILL: SHAOLIN DUB -- SKANKING IT EASY DUB OUTRO: DISTEMPER -- HAPPY END EMAIL : MOVIESONTHEROCKS2020@GMAIL.COM INSTAGRAM: @moviesrockpodcast
Ian talks with director Joshua John Miller and co-writer M.A. Fortin, whose new film, The Exorcism, is now in theaters.In this spoiler-free discussion, the guys talk about paying homage to one of the greatest horror movies of all time; how to cope when your writing partner is your life partner; and one of the darkest, most sinister forces in Hollywood: studio mandates!Plus: You can read Ian's written review of The Exorcism at Kicking the Seat!Subscribe, like, and comment to the Kicking the Seat YouTube channel, and check out kickseat.com for multiple movie podcasts each week!Show LinksWatch The Exorcism trailer.
Holy Hell we made it to the 200th episode!!! We'd like to thank all our faithful listeners first and foremost!! Join Jessy, John and Scott as we look back at the funniest moments and look at what ahead for the Commanders. Here's to 200 more!!
Did Diddy pay to have sex with Carl Winslow from Family Matters? Is there a Diddy/Jeffrey Epstein connection? Was the death of Aaliyah not an accident? Is Aubrey O'Day about to bring the whole fucking house down around Sean Puffy Combs? Friend of the show and Celebrity Sex Scandal Expert, Desiree Simone is back to unleash some All New Diddy Bombshells and HOLY HELL are they wild. Did Diddy pay America's Favorite Police Officer Carl Winslow from Family Matters for a night of raunchy violent dress up sex? Were Diddy and Jeffrey Epstein working together? Did Diddy have something to do with the death of Aaliyah? What the hell was Diddy really doing on a Nickelodeon show? Is Aubrey O'Day coming to blow the whistle? How many Diddy victims are really out there? Are they being suppressed from coming forward? Was Justin Bieber one of them?Dustin and Desiree tackle every single one of these, including one final terrifying question: Is there someone much worse out there pulling Diddy's strings? We already received a cease and desist over this episode so you better buckle the fuck up, this one's a Diddy. Doozy. I mean doozy. This one's a doozy. Welcome to Episode 122: “Did(He)” with Desiree Simone.Watch the video version of the show on YouTube YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIuCkOl_XummXVdu1t3XOuQFollow Desiree SimoneInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/iamdsimone (@iamdsimone)TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@iamdsimone (@iamdsimone)Twitter: https://twitter.com/iamdsimone (@iamdsimone)Check out Desiree Simone's Websitehttps://desiree-simone.comListen to Growth On The RocksApple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/growth-on-the-rocks/id1571305600Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/5aNBaBrtLTFvAnP36L7Z2w?si=9bebe485e9a748bfFollow the showInstagram: https://instagram.com/sexparty.fm (@sexparty.fm)Twitter: https://twitter.com/sexpartyfm (@sexpartyfm)Follow Dustin Instagram: https://instagram.com/dustinrybka (@dustinrybka)Twitter: https://twitter.com/dustinrybka (@dustinrybka)Sex Party with Dustin Rybka
Holy Hell y'all, have you seen "I Know Who Killed Me"? It is a legitimate masterpiece of terribleness. And as we all know, that's what makes a great movie! Lindsey Lohan stars in this sooooooooper mysterious mystery in shades of red and blue. There's torture, high school, poemitry, CSI, backgina, and a case of mistaken identity. Or is there?! If you're feeling adventurous, have a blue drink and a red drink ready and take a sip each time the color appears. Great fun until you get alcohol poisoning!
Are you ready for more cult action? Episode 93 is all about the more benign cults that may fly under the radar, but still pose a threat to vulnerable people.First, the two discuss what makes a person more susceptible to getting sucked into a cult, and Benton shares the beliefs of UFO religious leader Raël and his group of Raëlians. Then, Anna tells of the current communal group of off-grid survivalists known as The Garden. Finally, Benton and Anna settle in to watch the documentary "Holy Hell", profiling the spiritualist cult known as Buddhafield.Our TV doc this week is "Holy Hell: 22 Years Inside a Modern Cult".
Episode Summary: In this episode, host A.B. Ridgeway explores the controversy surrounding former President Donald Trump's sale of "God bless the USA Bibles" for $59.99 amid mounting legal challenges. The episode features commentary on the intersection of religion and politics, prompting listeners to consider the implications of combining the Constitution with the Bible.Key Takeaways:Blasphemy or Blessing?: Reverend Lauren Livingston denounces the "Trump Bible" as blasphemous and disgusting, emphasizing the sacredness of the Word of God over political agendas.Separation of Church and State: Ridgeway delves into the debate over the separation of church and state, acknowledging the challenges of navigating faith and patriotism in a diverse society.Biblical Authority: The episode highlights Romans 13:1, which calls for submission to governing authorities, prompting reflection on the role of government in religious discourse.Hypocrisy and Profit: Ridgeway critiques the hypocrisy of political leaders using religious platforms for personal gain while condemning Trump's Bible sales, urging listeners to consider the ethical implications.Engagement and Discussion: Ridgeway encourages listeners to engage in respectful dialogue, inviting them to share their perspectives on the controversy and the intertwining of faith and politics.Quotes:"The gospel is not an American gospel; it is the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ." - Reverend Lauren Livingston"If you glory in political mess, you do not know what the Word of God says." - A.B. Ridgeway"Your faith supersedes everything, but you've also got to love your country and the Constitution." - A.B. Ridgeway
Episode Summary: In this episode, host A.B. Ridgeway explores the controversy surrounding former President Donald Trump's sale of "God bless the USA Bibles" for $59.99 amid mounting legal challenges. The episode features commentary on the intersection of religion and politics, prompting listeners to consider the implications of combining the Constitution with the Bible.Key Takeaways:Blasphemy or Blessing?: Reverend Lauren Livingston denounces the "Trump Bible" as blasphemous and disgusting, emphasizing the sacredness of the Word of God over political agendas.Separation of Church and State: Ridgeway delves into the debate over the separation of church and state, acknowledging the challenges of navigating faith and patriotism in a diverse society.Biblical Authority: The episode highlights Romans 13:1, which calls for submission to governing authorities, prompting reflection on the role of government in religious discourse.Hypocrisy and Profit: Ridgeway critiques the hypocrisy of political leaders using religious platforms for personal gain while condemning Trump's Bible sales, urging listeners to consider the ethical implications.Engagement and Discussion: Ridgeway encourages listeners to engage in respectful dialogue, inviting them to share their perspectives on the controversy and the intertwining of faith and politics.Quotes:"The gospel is not an American gospel; it is the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ." - Reverend Lauren Livingston"If you glory in political mess, you do not know what the Word of God says." - A.B. Ridgeway"Your faith supersedes everything, but you've also got to love your country and the Constitution." - A.B. Ridgeway
[Contributors to this Episode: Joey Svendsen, Hayne Griffen, Jack Hoey, Derek Kubilus]In EP10 of the Podcast, 4 months or so ago, Derek Kubilus introduced us to his perspective on a Universal salvation plan carried out by Jesus, captured in his new book, Holy Hell. Regular guest, Jack Hoey, read the book and didn't have a positive reaction, even felt like it was contemptuous. Hosts Joey Svendsen and Hayne Griffen beg to differ, and the four discuss. Get The B-Sides Feed Facebook Discussion Group here.E-mail the PWNA team here.Theme Song and Intro Music: Stoy Prioleau (aka: Riggy Rock): Apple MusicClosing music by Derek Minor. Other music by Mechanical River
PAINE Calls FBI Site Commander for Deadly WACO Siege & OK City Bombing and All Holy Hell Breaks Out + Rare Bill Cooper We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...
PAINE Calls FBI Site Commander for Deadly WACO Siege & OK City Bombing and All Holy Hell Breaks Out + Rare Bill Cooper We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...
PAINE Calls FBI Site Commander for Deadly WACO Siege & OK City Bombing and All Holy Hell Breaks Out + Rare Bill Cooper We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...
PAINE Calls FBI Site Commander for Deadly WACO Siege & OK City Bombing and All Holy Hell Breaks Out + Rare Bill Cooper We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...
PAINE Calls FBI Site Commander for Deadly WACO Siege & OK City Bombing and All Holy Hell Breaks Out + Rare Bill Cooper We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...
Part 1 -- PAINE Calls FBI Site Commander for Deadly WACO Siege & OK City Bombing and All Holy Hell Breaks Out + Rare Bill Cooper We Cannot Say Much of the 'Really Good Stuff' on Here That's Why We Created Paine.tv YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** GET the Intel that's Too Hot For Anywhere Else at P A IN E. TV CONTRIBUTE TO THE SHOW BY CLICKING THIS LINK -- *** DONATE HERE *** ...
Derek Kubilus, a Methodist pastor in Ohio, talks with Word&Way President Brian Kaylor about his book Holy Hell: A Case against Eternal Damnation. He also discusses translation issues, Wesleyan teachings, and Star Wars. Note: Don't forget to subscribe to our award-winning e-newsletter A Public Witness that helps you make sense of faith, culture, and politics.
Immaculate Film Review | HOLY HELL! #immaculate #sydneysweeney #sxsw In this video, we review the film, 'Immaculate,' which is directed by Michael Mohan and stars Sydney Sweeney. "An American nun embarks on a new journey when she joins a remote convent in the Italian countryside. However, her warm welcome quickly turns into a living nightmare when she discovers her new home harbours a sinister secret and unspeakable horrors."
This Quoircast episode is brought to you by the Jonathan_Foster Podcast. In this episode we chat with Derek KubilusDerek Ryan Kubilus is an ordained elder serving in the East Ohio Conference of the United Methodist Church. He is also a member of the Order of Saint Luke and an amateur podcaster. He currently serves the First United Methodist Church of Ashland, Ohio, where he lives with his wife, Maggie Astrino, and their two Great Pyrenees dogs, Beowulf and Fenris.You can follow Derek on:Facebook InstagramYou can find all things Derek Kubilus related on his websiteYou can purchase Holy Hell on Amazon.comYou can connect with This Is Not Church on:Facebook Instagram Twitter TikTok YouTubeAlso check out our Linktree for all things This Is Not Church relatedPlease like and follow our Quoircast Partners:Heretic Happy Hour Messy Spirituality Apostates Anonymous Second Cup with Keith The Church Needs TherapyIdeas Digest The New Evangelicals Snarky Faith Podcast Wild Olive Deadly FaithJonathan Foster Sacred Thoughts Holy Heretics Reframing Our StoriesEach episode of This Is Not Church Podcast is expertly engineered by our producer The Podcast Doctor Eric Howell. If you're thinking of starting a podcast you need to connect with Eric!
This week on Myopia Movies, would you look at that, it is Quinntober an entirely Matt Quinn programmed month, so we, of course are starting with a Sci-Fi Fantasy Movie, where priest warrior Paul Bettany fights vampires when the theocratic world government Catholic Church claims they have all been eliminated. Yup...Holy Hell this movie is nuts. Episode 450! Woo! How will Priest (2011) hold up? Host: Matthew Quinn Panel: Nic and Charlie Rose Directed by Scott Stewart Starring: Paul Bettany, Cam Gigandet, Maggie Q, Karl Urban, Lily Collins, Brad Dourif, Stephen Moyer, Christopher Plummer
Join Reverend Derek Kubilus and Michael having an amazing conversation on the doctrine of hell and how Derek came to reject it as a mistranslated, misinterpreted, and illogical concept that totally contradicts God's love. Derek addresses these questions below. Don't miss his insightful answers: * How are some people haunted by hell? * What are the major glaring contradictions of the notion of a hell that is created and maintained by a loving God? * If Christians truly, really, honestly believed in hell and truly, really, honestly loved their neighbors, how would they live their life? * What are the most interesting examples of mistranslations of terms referring to hell in the New Testament? * What does Jesus mean when he says “everyone will be salted by fire?” * Where did modern Christians get the idea that God is retributive—to the point of punishing people infinitely if necessary? * What is your response to those who claim that death is the ultimate cutoff for securing one's salvation? * How does the concept of “remedial punishment/rehab of the age” equate with purgatory? Is purgatory in the Bible under a different term? * How do you define being a universalist? Why does it not mean all religions are alike all lead to the same God? * How does Jesus expand the borders of those to be saved? * How do you answer the objection that we need hell to maintain human freedom? * What are the wonderful, beneficial implications of no longer believing in hell? Find Derek's book, Holy Hell: A Case Against Eternal Damnation here (out Feb. 27 and available for preorder now): https://www.amazon.com/Holy-Hell-against-Eternal-Damnation-ebook/dp/B0CBVLY23F/ Michael Camp's Spiritual Brewpub, Deconstruction Workshop, books, and blog: https://www.spiritualbrewpub.com/ More episodes: https://spiritualbrewpub.podbean.com/
This is an episode we genuinely looked forward to recording. Andrew and Matthew talk with Derek Kubilus, author of the book Holy Hell, A Case Against Eternal Damnation. Derek is genuinely compassionate and that comes across in his writing. His acknowledgment of the harm that hell theology causes and his case against it presents a god that many will find more palatable or even attractive. If hell doctrine is something that bothers you or even if you only have a passing interesting in hell, then we highly recommend reading his book, it has the power the heal wounds. If you enjoy this conversation, Derek has also appeared on the Deconstructionists podcast. Derek Kubilus https://www.eerdmans.com/9780802883179/ Derek on The Deconstructionists podcast part 1 and 2 https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/derek-kubilus-holy-hell-a-case-against-eternal/id1080170463?i=1000633172265 https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/derek-kubilus-holy-hell-a-case-against-eternal/id1080170463?i=1000633945184 Terry Eagleton - Culture and the Death of God https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23360122-culture-and-the-death-of-god Universalism https://www.theopedia.com/universalism Derek's Heaven Buddies Sermon https://player.fm/series/the-united-methodist-church-of-uniontown/exilecast-heaven-buddies Open Theism https://iep.utm.edu/o-theism/ Devid Bentley Hart - The New Testament: A Translation https://www.amazon.co.uk/New-Testament-David-Bentley-Hart/dp/0300186096?ie=UTF8&tag=mh0a9-21&hvadid=&hvpos=&hvexid={aceid}&hvnetw=o&hvrand=&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=b&hvdev=c&ref=pd_sl_7dy1f5hemb_e To contact us, email: reasonpress@gmail.com Our Theme Music was written for us by Holly, to support her and to purchase her music use the links below: https://hollykirstensongs.com/ https://hollykirsten.bandcamp.com/ --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/still-unbelievable/message
if you like your classic holiday music ruined by soundbites, samples, a live mic and juxtaposed with obscure holiday music, we got you covered!
SUBSCRIBE TO THE NEW BNC CHANNEL: https://bit.ly/45Pspyl Ad Free & Bonus Episodes: https://bit.ly/3OEBbbj NEW MERCH: https://shoptmgstudios.com Holy Hell! 100 Podcasts! Brooke and Connor crack open some cold ones and reminisce on their favorite moments from the early days. Plus, they quiz their BNC 101 knowledge and announce an exciting rebrand. Thank you for 100 episodes, here's to 100 more! Join our Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/5356639204457124/ If you listen on Apple Podcasts, go to: https://apple.co/bandc Get 20% Off and Free Shipping with the code BANDC at https://Manscaped.com. Go to https://Quince.com/bandc for free shipping on your order and 365-day returns. Control Body Odor ANYWHERE with @lumedeodorant and get $5 off off your Starter Pack (that's over 40% off) with promo code BANDC at https://LumeDeodorant.com! #lumepod B+C IG: https://www.instagram.com/bncmap/ B+C Twitter: https://twitter.com/bncmap TMG Studios YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/tinymeatgang TMG Studios IG: https://www.instagram.com/realtmgstudios/ TMG Studios Twitter: https://twitter.com/realtmgstudios BROOKE https://www.instagram.com/brookeaverick https://twitter.com/ladyefron https://www.tiktok.com/@ladyefron CONNOR https://www.instagram.com/fibula/ https://twitter.com/fibulaa https://www.tiktok.com/@fibulaa Hosted by Brooke Averick & Connor Wood, Created by TMG Studios, Brooke Averick & Connor Wood, and Produced by TMG Studios, Brooke Averick & Connor Wood. 0:00 The Humping Wolves 1:05 NEW INTRO!!! 1:28 Happy 100 Pod!!! 4:38 A Celebratory Cocktail 7:50 Getting Sappy & Sloppy 10:10 Make A Wish 11:55 Cursed With Perfect Teeth 16:44 Manscaped 19:53 WE HAVE NEW ART 21:38 Brooke's Tragic Story 23:32: Who Said It: B&C Edition 31:03 Quince 32:45 Analyzing Curb 33:32 More Who Said It 48:49 Lume 51:22 Chick Fil A BMs 53:50 More Games 58:42 B&C Pop Quiz 1:13:14 Hitting The Word Count 1:16:44 One Touch Is ALL It Takes 1:16:15 Thank You For 100 :) 1:17:44 See You In Bonus!!!
This holiday season, let's talk about how close we are to World War 3. Trita Parsi of The Quincy Institute joins Francesca to discuss the regional implications of Israel's war on Gaza, what happens to Palestinian refugees, and why the Biden administration is truly screwing itself. Plus, comedian Subhah Agarwal joins to talk about women (and moms!) in red states finally fighting back against draconian anti-abortion laws. Finally, a Christmas game of "keep, re-gift, or trash" with Elon Muskian trinkets. In other words, stop trying to make Grok happen. Featuring: Subhah Agarwal, https://twitter.com/subhah Trita Parsi, https://twitter.com/tparsi **** THE BITCHUATION ROOM IS BACK AT SF SKETCHFEST on Sunday January 28th at 7pm with Miles Gray of The Daily Zeitgeist, Emma Vigeland of The Majority Report and Nato Green. Get tickets here: https://sched.co/1VUtt **** The Bitchuation Room Streams LIVE every TUESDAY and FRIDAY at 1/4pmEST on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/franifio and Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/franifio Support The Bitchuation Room by becoming a Patron: www.patreon.com/bitchuationroom to get special perks and listen/watchback privileges of the Friday *BONUS BISH* Tip the show via Venmo:@TBR-LIVE Cash-App:@TBRLIVE Music by Nick Stargu Follow The Bitchuation Room on Twitter @BitchuationPod Get your TBR merch: www.bitchuationroom.comThe Bitchuation Room Streams LIVE every TUESDAY and FRIDAY at 1/4pmEST on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/franifio and Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/franifio Support The Bitchuation Room by becoming a Patron: www.patreon.com/bitchuationroom to get special perks and listen/watchback privileges of the Friday *BONUS BISH* Tip the show via Venmo:@TBR-LIVE Cash-App:@TBRLIVE Music by Nick Stargu Follow The Bitchuation Room on Twitter @BitchuationPod Get your TBR merch: www.bitchuationroom.com
[Hosts Contributing in this episode: Joey Svendsen]If God has the type of unlimited power and unquenchable love most Christians ascribe to the Creator, the theological reasoning behind people being separated from God forever simply doesn't hold up, at least not to our finite minds. But there are so many verses in the Bible that point to a much greater salvation than what most Christians have been taught. Hearing this episode, listeners will digest the reasons why a universal view of salvation is backed by scripture just as much (if not more) as traditional views of “heaven and hell” are. In his book, “Holy Hell: a Case Against Eternal Damnation,” Methodist minister Derek Ryan Kubilus lays out an exhaustive theological and philosophical framework that outlines not only why this view is far from heresy but also why it's very likely to be true. Joey and Derek also discuss many objections to this view, including notions like “God's love has to be balanced by justice,” and how people need to be careful not “to put a human, man-made perspective of love on infinite God."PREORDER BOOK: Holy Hell: A Case Against Eternal Damnation Get The B-Sides Feed (comes with access to our private community)Facebook Discussion Group here.E-mail the PWNA team here.Music (including theme song): Stoy Prioleau (aka: Riggy Rock): Apple MusicOther Music: Derek Minor, Joel Hamilton (The Mechanical River), Joel Hamilton+Friends (Embassyfreqs)
WE'RE BACK...and with a bang. We're kicking off our post-season interviews with none other than the legendary Rob Bell. He was a massive voice for many of us who began to question and deconstruct our faiths. Josh, one-half of Holy Hell, went down to Los Angeles to interview Rob for his new book, 'Where'd you Park your Spaceship.' We looked at its central themes, and how it offers readers the freedom to make their own interpretations. Buckle up for this soulful ride with our spiritual hero, Rob Bell.
Just for fun, this is an episode of "The Barking Dawgs" ...a Toddversation. Hope you like it. Season 4 of the ToddCast looms... Holy Hell! We beat USC....! "What is a Ute?" --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/todd-doyle-parks/message
Guest Info/Bio:This week's guest is Pastor/Author/Podcaster Derek Kubilus. Derek just released a fantastic book on the topic of Hell, how we came to view Hell as we do, and what that says about how we view God. Derek is an ordained elder serving in the East Ohio Conference of the United Methodist Church. He is also a member of the Order of Saint Luke and an amateur podcaster.Guest (select) publications: The Real War on Terror: Waging Holy War in the Peaceful Kingdom; Holy Hell: A Case against Eternal Damnation Check out Derek's podcast: Cross Over QGuest Website/Social Media: Twitter: @DerekKubilus1Special Theme Music by: Forrest ClayInstagram: @forrestclaymusic Twitter: @clay_kYouTube: www.youtube.com/claykmusic Songs featured on this episode were from the Recover EPYou can find Clay's music on iTunes, Apple Music, Spotify, YouTube, or anywhere good music is found!This episode is sponsored by Hello Fresh - America's #1 meal kit! My daughter and I swear by it and have our favorite recipes that we make together every week! Go to www.hellofresh.com/deconstruct50 for 50% off PLUS free shipping! This episode of the Deconstructionists Podcast was edited, mixed, and produced by John Williamson Stay on top of all of the latest at www.thedeconstructionists.com Go there to check out our blog, snag a t-shirt, or follow us on social mediaJoin our Patreon family here: www.patreon.com/deconstructionists Website by Ryan BattlesAll photos by Jared HevronLogos designed by Joseph Ernst & Stephen PfluigT-shirt designs by Joseph Ernst, Chad Flannigan, Colin Rigsby, and Jason Turner. This episode is sponsored by Hello Fresh! Go to www.hellofresh.com/50deconstruct and use code 50deconstruct for 50% off PLUS free shipping!Starting your own podcast? Try Riverside! https://riverside.fm/?utm_campaign=campaign_1&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_source=rewardful&via=john-williamsonOur Sponsors:* Check out Factor 75 and use my code deconstruct50 for a great deal: https://www.factor75.com/Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-deconstructionists/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy
Guest Info/Bio:This week's guest is Pastor/Author/Podcaster Derek Kubilus. Derek just released a fantastic book on the topic of Hell, how we came to view Hell as we do, and what that says about how we view God. Derek is an ordained elder serving in the East Ohio Conference of the United Methodist Church. He is also a member of the Order of Saint Luke and an amateur podcaster.Guest (select) publications: The Real War on Terror: Waging Holy War in the Peaceful Kingdom; Holy Hell: A Case against Eternal Damnation Check out Derek's podcast: Cross Over QGuest Website/Social Media: Twitter: @DerekKubilus1Special Theme Music by: Forrest ClayInstagram: @forrestclaymusic Twitter: @clay_kYouTube: www.youtube.com/claykmusic Songs featured on this episode were from the Recover EPYou can find Clay's music on iTunes, Apple Music, Spotify, YouTube, or anywhere good music is found!This episode is sponsored by Hello Fresh - America's #1 meal kit! My daughter and I swear by it and have our favorite recipes that we make together every week! Go to www.hellofresh.com/deconstruct50 for 50% off PLUS free shipping! This episode of the Deconstructionists Podcast was edited, mixed, and produced by John Williamson Stay on top of all of the latest at www.thedeconstructionists.com Go there to check out our blog, snag a t-shirt, or follow us on social mediaJoin our Patreon family here: www.patreon.com/deconstructionists Website by Ryan BattlesAll photos by Jared HevronLogos designed by Joseph Ernst & Stephen PfluigT-shirt designs by Joseph Ernst, Chad Flannigan, Colin Rigsby, and Jason Turner. This episode is sponsored by Hello Fresh! Go to www.hellofresh.com/50deconstruct and use code 50deconstruct for 50% off PLUS free shipping!Starting your own podcast? Try Riverside! https://riverside.fm/?utm_campaign=campaign_1&utm_medium=affiliate&utm_source=rewardful&via=john-williamsonOur Sponsors:* Check out Factor 75 and use my code deconstruct50 for a great deal: https://www.factor75.com/Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/the-deconstructionists/donationsAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy
HOLY HELL!!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
HBO's newest true crime docu-series, Telemarketers, a look at a New Jersey phone scam; Robert Krut returns to discuss it, and brings personal stories to share! Around The Dial takes us through Winning Time, Poker Face, and Painkiller. Bobby pitches the Atlanta episode "Woods" for induction into The Canon. Then after naming the week's Winner and Loser, it's on to a Game Time that takes us, and our bidding acumen, back to the Garden State. Hang up on that Likely Scam and listen! GUESTS
Universal Flowering Perfumer/Founder Courtney Rafuse is in the Perfume Room today! We discuss everything from her creative process, to why fragrance pyramids are gentle suggestions at best, to the vulnerability that comes with transforming intimate accounts of her personal life into fragrances meant for other bodies (and imaginations and memories). FRAGS MENTIONED: Diptyque Fleur de Peau, Glossier You, Chanel No. 5, Universal Flowering Venus in Tuberose, Kiehl's Cucumber Essences, Demeter, CB I Hate Perfume, Universal Flowering: Gossamer Spirit, Death of a Ladies' Man, Heliotrope Milkbath, Poems One Through Twelve, Beachy Head, Holy Hell, Summer Sauna SHOP: universal---flowering.com || luckyscent.com (code 10pr for 10% off orders $40+) FOLLOW: @universalflowering BOOK A SCENT CONSULT WITH ME: shopmy.us/emmavernon/consults