BOOKS, BREAD, BALLS & BUTTS SHIP’S LOG 3
Leto Armitage, Quartermaster
Welcome aboard the Resilience. I am the Quartermaster of this floating pile of degeneracy and that means I control the rum, which includes a lot of quality control testing. I had to put that duty aside long enough to write this, so trust me, it won’t be longer than necessary.
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Now, I do encourage the degeneracy around here so long as work gets done on time. The ship is something like Hemingway’s mobile feast, just with more lesbians. Maybe, I mean it was Paris. Here, you can open a bunk room to find tentacles ravishing young maidens (gleefully), go to the quarter deck and find sapphic space farers who lost their way, enter the hold to discover things best not mentioned at bedtime, and far more.
Today, it’s my turn to update you lot on these various shenanigans. There will also be talk of books, bread, balls and butts, so draw a cup of the black spiced stuff and let’s get stuck in.
A LITTLE STORY
Being a quartermaster, I hear a lot of tales. Usually, they relate to why someone deserves a little extra from the stores, but not always. I’d like to pass a few along when it’s my time here.
On April 16th in 1972, at 5:03 PM, a Catholic priest named Herman Collingwood removed his smock and collar. He drove two miles to pick up a woman named Natasha Asloo. He was 34 and she was 31. Both carried legal documents with them and they drove for five hours deep into the night.
After midnight, they stopped at a rest area, locked the doors and slept until morning. Herman slept sitting up in the driver’s seat using a pillow that he had migrated with him since college. Natasha slept in the back seat using a white linen dress she had brought with her as a blanket. When morning arrived, she changed into the dress behind some trees while Herman looked the other way. The public bathrooms were still locked. They drove for two more hours, and as they pulled into the parking lot of a courthouse it was Monday morning and they listened to the news talk about the launch of Apollo 16 the day before. At 10 AM a judge married them.
That evening the husband and wife returned home. Natasha never changed her last name, but took over as his housekeeper. She even moving into an apartment newly built into his basement as part of her salary. They continued this for ten years until she was swollen with child. Herman and Natasha disappeared. A lawyer sold their house and the people, even more swollen with gossip than Natasha’s belly, never got the satisfaction of any further tale.
This is a tiny tale and it may not seem like much. But it is also true. Or at least that’s what the storyteller told me.
Work In Progress
So, the Captain tells me I should tell you, good souls, what I am writing about at the moment. I know, I know, when does a Quartermaster find the time to write?
Well, Hemingway said write drunk and edit sober. Clearly, that means he was a quitter. I say write drunk and find a wench to edit for you. Note: Erase this part before the Captain sees it. (Too late! I saw…) Really, I don’t even know why I wrote it. (Yes, you do!) Oh yeah, drunk.
Anyway, I am wrapping up Catgirl From Saturn, a short story about Melissa, a manga-ka (female comics creator) who has a silly crush on her own creation. Then one day, she meets a beautiful, vivacious girl dressed as her cat girl at a convention. Despite the fan-servicy title, there’s no sexually explicit content, but I’m quite enjoying it. Those who know their classics have a pretty blatant Easter Egg and theme to look forward to in this story.
Catgirl from Saturn is part of Libertalia Tales: First Love, a series of short romances I am doing with the crew mates. Next year, we’re releasing the anthology, How Sweet It Is, and I’m writing the title story there as well. It’s about a police detective who lost his sense of taste and love during the pandemic. This is my first Male/Male story and I enjoy doing it.
With our Captain, the aforementioned wench, I am also writing spoonie smut as Maddox Rhinehart which basically allows me to channel a snobbier, even more foodie version of myself. In May, we release Sweet’n’Spicy, the second book in the Pet’s Penance series, and This Saccharine Sensation, the third book in the First Love series together.
And there is more. You can sign up for my personal missives here and I will even send you a short story called Red63Tennis about a man who discovers that some Reddit forums are far more dangerous than others.
From the Kitchen
Bread. Bread is a staple of life aboard the ship and historically for many people. It smells divine and reminds us of home. It makes me think of sex. Bear with me.
Humans are funny beasts. We are getting better at talking about love, but we aren’t very good at talking about lust. Trust me, meeting a woman, dressed in a catholic schoolgirl skirt who wants you to spank her is a different lust from waking up in a comfortable bed with the woman you love and wrapping her in your arms.
This is bread lust, the lust of home and hearth. And the smell of fresh baking bread is like breathing fresh air onto a simmering fire. Work that bread and tell me your lover doesn’t see those fingers working them. Let the moisture and flour coat you like sweat. It’s all foreplay. Bake the loaf and cut a thick slice and serve it with butter and honey, and as it drips, lick it off their chin.
Here is my super simple goto recipe for bread
1, First, warm up some water to dissolve the yeast. Warm, not hot, you don’t want to kill the yeast. If it’s hotter than what you’d use to douche then let it cool down. Work in the flour, salt and oil.
2, Knead for 5-10 minutes. How hard you knead matters, so the best measurement is how you feel the gluten forming up. If you’re slapping it like when you’re making a nice ass pink – ten minutes. If you’re going for bruising – 5 minutes.
3, Put the dough in a bowl and cover it with a cloth. Cotton. Don’t use rayon or some other artificial shit. I don’t know if it matters in terms of the rising, but try to have some fucking standards. 5 minutes
4, Then dust it with flour and shape it into a ball. Like a man’s testicles, it doesn’t have to be a perfect sphere, just a ball. Cover again and let it rise for an hour.
5, After an hour you can divide it into two halves. You can do it with your hands, but it is easier to use something like a dough divider or a knife to make sure you get it right. Separate these out and they will make two loaves. If you don’t want two loaves, and don’t know what to do, ask a ten-year-old to do basic division for you and reduce the above amounts by half. But honestly, if you don’t want two loaves of bread you have made life choices that I question.
6, Turn the halves into balls again. You now have two balls and don’t have to worry about being made fun of, congrats! Sprinkle them with flour and drink a glass of wine. Technically, the wine is optional but I was told to do it by an Italian grandmother, and I’m not questioning the Italians when it comes to bread. If your balls are feeling neglected sprinkle them too. If you go further than that, start a weird Onlyfans. Let the balls rest for 15 minutes. The dough ones.
7, Get a clean surface ready and put flour down on it. Keep some more on hand in case you need it. Press down on the balls and form them into a shape that is right for your bread pan. Put the shaped dough in, cover with the cloth again and let rise for another hour.
8, Preheat your oven to 400F or 200C, stick the bread tins in and let the loaves bake. Take the rest of your wine and read for 40 minutes, and if you don’t have anything to read – keep reading after this and I’ll help you with that too.
9, Take loaves out of oven and let them cool. Fresh bread is best eaten warm, not scorching. Optionally, brush the top with some melted butter.
WORLD BOOK DAY
I am told that it’s World Book Day this week. As Charles Dickens said, “These vazey mutton shumpers need to put down the pie and pick up a book!” Okay, I don’t know for a fact that he said that, but since he was a working writer I’m confident he thought it.
I wanted to make a recommendation, as I don’t think World Book Day should just be encouraging the world to read a book. It should also encourage existing readers to read outside their normal comfort zones. Don’t worry, it won’t be a radical suggestion. No mutton shumping, at least, but I’m not judging if you’re lonely.
Haruki Murakami is a Japanese literary writer, one-time jazz club owner and general dude who writes, and obviously listens to, a lot of classical music. Although Japanese, his sensibilities are more modern than Nihon-centric. He lists many western writers among his influences and it shows. The writing certainly captures Japanese cultural themes, but ones that overlap with most of the developed world. The result is a literary perspective that is as global as it is modern, at least among urban nations.
Although he has been prolific I would start with his translated short story collection, The Elephant Vanishes. He weaves between the surreal and the mundane and sometimes juxtaposes them while occasionally dipping into magical realism emphasising the loneliness and impossibility of being truly alone in the world.
The opening story, The Wind Up Bird and Tuesday’s Women, is one of my favorites in all of short fiction.
From the Ship’s Log
This week, in celebration of World Book Day, I’ve decided to step away from blogs and social media and show you nine books with a bite from members of our crew instead.
I’m very proud of the fact that our ship hosts writers from different genres, and that between us we publish everything from fantasy and sci-fi to sweet romance and hot tentacle smut. Normally, we don’t showcase (too much) of the spicy stuff here (we save that for the Holihell Headlines), but today we’re making an exception.
You heard the Quartermaster – World Book Day is also about reading outside your comfort zone. To that end, I have chosen titles from our ever-growing catalogue that I know have made our readers feel… Well, let’s just say their reactions have changed from absolute horror to hot and bothered.
I’ve got fresh towels and smelling salts at hand in case you need them. And no worries – we don’t judge.
Libertalia Tales: First Love
I think the best description of this, our very first book series, can be found in the back matter of Love Never Dies: “[It was] born on a rainy afternoon in Jamaica Inn. It’s a sleazy little dockside tavern, in a secluded side-alley of the internet, frequented only by those in the know. […] A few spiced rums in, our table full of writers-come-sailors started to spin sweet and salty yarns of their own romantic voyages over the years.
“This is good stuff,” said Linnea, and she wasn’t talking about the rum. “We ought to finish these and publish an anthology of our best First Love stories.” And so, as writers do, we turned the tales of our real first loves into stories, which are both untrue, and more true this way.”
Fanny Ingram-Bull is an old friend of mine who has a small cabin below passenger deck where she writes juicy romances and tries to seduce our deckhands.
An Afternoon Delight
Can you meet the love of your life in a bar? When gorgeous Sam walks into Jess’s local bar, it seems like fate. Flirty, fun, and teasing, this sapphic tale of true love will have you gasping in surprise like it’s your first time…
Love Never Dies
They say love never dies, that the dead never really leave us When Maya’s first love is tragically taken, she wants to believe it, but all she can feel is the lack of him. Until love finds her in the least expected way.
Love Never Dies is a bittersweet story of first love beyond the grave.
This Saccharine Sensation
Gianna has dreamed the hubby, house and rugrats dream for 20 years, but what would normie life look like for someone like her? How do you find a man when the only one you talk to is “Joe” in tech support? Can you fall in love with someone you haven’t met? And if you do… What next?
Nine Books With a Bite
Fear that gets under your skin. Readers report that Calyptra has given them an irrational fear of flying objects smaller than a London pigeon. Scratch that – anything smaller than a Cessna. This is a gruesome tale about a new species of vampire moths and a scientist who really should have known better.
Caged With the Dogmen
From fear of insects to fear of monsters. This book has over 200 ratings and hit #1 on the bestseller lists for horror and paranormal erotica this week. As one reviewer remarks, Sibley Stamps “does a great job of humanizing paranormal monsters” and frequently leaves readers panting and wondering who the real monsters are.
So, fear… How about a fiery demon from Hell? Trust a nosy teenager to google how to do a summoning ritual in the hope of connecting with her dead father. Imagine Ellyria’s surprise when it’s one of Hell’s generals who comes through instead and tells her they will be one until he has slaughtered all her enemies. And imagine his when she tells him she hasn’t got any. She just needs to speak to her dad…
Hearts of Emerald Bay
Sometimes the bites are of a sweeter kind, but we don’t necessarily want them anyway. At least not to begin with. When love comes knocking, romance author Dana Lawson slams the door in its face. Can the gorgeous redhead she meets in a bar ignite the fire she’s afraid to feed and desperate to fuel. Will she write her love story or tear up the chapters and throw them in the fire?
Flames of Alexandrite
What about the stinging bites life (or fate?) seems to give some people? What if all you ever dreamed of was love and a family to call your own? And what if you found that in a beautiful girl in a foreign land? You would assume this was your happily ever after, right? But what if the girl turns out to be your sister? Ouch!
One Thousand Cranes
In One Thousand Cranes, a bittersweet yuri story about love and friendship, the bite is physical and comes from the needle in the traditional ink tool Helen uses to tattoo cranes down her friend Sakura’s spine. It’s painful, just the way she wants it to be. Legend has it her wish will come true when she has one thousand cranes. But what is Sakura’s wish? And will it, indeed, come true?
Tangled With The Tentacle Alien
Do tentacle aliens have teeth? That’s the kind of weird discussion that some of our writers may have in the nerd tent. We have so many sci-fi lovers in camp and some of them write steaming hot happy-for-now erotica. Meet Dylan who’s been sent to a remote planet to study the last alien of a kind. He decides to offer a helping hand with the incubation of its eggs, and…
Pet’s Penance, Book 1
Pet is neither a demon nor a vampire, but she loves a good bite. Luckily for her, she is owned by a Master who loves to cover her in marks of his affection. This is a slice-of-life story in four parts that follows illustrious romance author Maddox Rhinehart and his pet as they travel to London to attend an erotica convention.
Our Next Author
Your Story Here
The last book of my nine is the one that will bite your butt if you don’t write it. Yes, you heard me. I believe you have at least one story in you that wants to be told, and I think you should get in touch asap so we can talk about whether we would be a good fit for you. And whether you’d be able to fit in with us. Writing is a solitary venture, but I believe we all write better when we’re part of a community.
Drop me a message at firstname.lastname@example.org and who knows – it may be your book that’s featured here next time.
The Resilience hosts a series of independent blogs and websites, including aswewrite.com and holihell.com. But more importantly, she offers a steadily growing number of writers a home and a treasure trove of shared resources, knowledge and experience. Your support keeps her afloat and helps us make more shit up. Thank you and welcome aboard!
Pick up some sweet and spicy stuff in our Sween’n’Spicy shop. Special requests? Let me know and we’ll see what my pet can do…
If you become one of my first delicious sluts on Patreon, you will get extra everything. I may even write you into one of my stories…
Check out my book swag in the Resilience shop. Is there anything you want to see from me? Let me know and I’ll see what I can do…
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Linnea Lucifer, Week 1
Captain of the Resilience, amateur liar and bearer of many names. Linnea is a multi-genre author who writes fantasy, romance and sweet’n’spicy spoonie smut under different pen names. An ancient dragon lady who doubles as a writing coach, editor and desktop publisher.
Leto Armitage, Week 3
The Quartermaster, in his own words, is a simple man of simple pleasures, but don’t forget: Two things can be true! Leto is not only a certified geek and living encyclopedia – he’s also a multi-genre author, storyteller and content creator who writes fantasy, sci-fi, romance and erotica.
Leto was born in a crossfire hurricane, or at least that was what he believed until his parents told him he fell asleep in the car listening to the Rolling Stones too much. Somewhere after that, he accidentally got an education while reading.
He has played D&D with one of its inventors, learned archery from Buddhist monks, and is no longer allowed legal entry to three ex-Eastern Block countries. Sorry, Sascha.
Deciding that he should combine his experiences with cooking, information technology, strippers, and stroking women’s hair while they fall asleep, Leto realized writing was the only reasonable path forward.
Today he lives in the greater Atlanta, Georgia area with cats, dogs, and humans who seem to like him despite actually knowing him. He prefers to write on his back deck listening to birds as he writes romance, erotica, and weird fiction.