Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

Image: courtesy of Cari Silverwood and Skye Warren.

It’s no secret that I am a huge (huge) fan of dark erotica, so I cannot shout loudly enough about Make Me, a brilliant collection of popular stories that’s been put together by some of the genre’s stand-out authors. C.J. Roberts, Annabel Joseph, Skye Warren, Cari Silverwood, Claire Thompson … the contributor list for this thing reads like a who’s who of the smut writing world.

You get twelve full-length novels for what you’d roughly pay for a single eBook (£1.85 if you’re in the U.K. or $3.58 if you’re in the U.S.) and the collection is comprised of titles that have already proven to be extremely popular with readers in their own right. Don’t believe me? Check out the ratings for the individual books on Amazon and Goodreads. Basically, you’re getting the good stuff. Non-con, dark smutty heaven.

The catch? This is a March-only deal so you need to download the Make Me collection (purchase links below) before the 31^st. Go forth and find your mind’s dark alleyway!

Amazon.co.uk

• Make Me – Kindle

Amazon.com

• Make Me – Kindle

Oh, Liana I love you!

Not a discount alert but a ‘new season’ alert. The folk over at Lascivious, who make seriously sexy lingerie, got in touch to let me know that their Spring/Summer collection for 2014 is now available. I’ve got a few things from Lascivious in my cupboard and the workmanship and design of their pieces really is outstanding – hence the reason they’re included on the Chintz ‘Retail Therapy’ list over there on the right-hand side. Not only that, they actually have things that suit those of the small-breasted persuasion, such as myself. (As evidenced by my recent Sinful Sunday image, I’m no Dolly Parton but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to look sexy, dammit!) So it is with much covetous lust that I highlight this new creation of theirs, the Liana Long Suspender. *Sigh* Isn’t it beautiful?

 Image: courtesy of Lascivious.

MyStim Electrosex Lust Egg

Another item I’d like to get my sticky paws on – what a shocker! (Pun intended.) Given my growing interest in all things electrical (okay, may not all things – I have my limits (put that cattle prod down, M!)), this little egg was bound to catch my eye. It’s made of polished, medical aluminium, which means that in addition to providing little electrical vibes, it can be heated and cooled for temperature play. Bondara currently have the MyStim Electrosex Lust Egg down from £64.99 to £49.99 however you need to use it in conjunction with either the MyStim Pure Vibes Electrosex Tens Unit (£84.99) or the MyStim Tension Lover Electrosex Tens Unit (£114.99).

Food for thought if you’re a bit bored with standard vibrator sensations and want something a little different.

Have a great weekend everyone. And to all those attending Eroticon 2014: laugh lots, learn loads, be inspired, and enjoy the hell out of your smutty selves!

Jane
xxx

The post Freebies and Discounts: A Dark (Dark!) Erotica Smorgasbord, Luscious New Lascivious Creations, and Electrosex appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

MICHAEL’S TAKE

I guess it was sort of inevitable if we did this long enough.

A lot of people are comparing this to Captive in the Dark. I can see why. And I can certainly make the case for comparing them. A young woman is kidnapped. Mexico. International human trafficking. An anti-hero with a troubled past. But there comes a point when this has to sink or swim on its own merits. That is where Jane and I disagree.

Probably the biggest difference is Marco. He is a little hard to describe. He’s a monster, right? The evil human trafficker who forces his captives to do his bidding to further his criminal empire. Simple. Only at least some of his slaves delight in serving him, happy that he rescued them from a life of poverty and despair. In fact, at least one is desperately in love with him. And he could have killed our young heroine right at the beginning instead of taking her into his home. And he certainly could have taken her anal virginity … because … well, the reason he didn’t I didn’t quite get. In fact, I found that entire subplot a little odd.

Douglas. Colin Douglas. That doesn’t actually appear in the novel and Colin never got assigned a designation starting with a couple of zeros but the whole MI-6 thing was an interesting choice. But it was such a minor issue that aside from adding some unintended humour it didn’t make much difference.

Angela’s character was obviously inspired by Natalee Holloway. In fact, when Jane suggested this book, I deliberately just started reading without knowing anything about it. So I had no idea what was about to happen although perhaps I should have seen it.

Ultimately it came down to whether I liked Angela and Colin. And I did. They weren’t Livvie and Caleb but they had their own strengths and weaknesses. I was really hoping things would work out for them. And they did – although not without a few twists right up the very end.

I’m sorry this didn’t measure up for Jane but there is always next time.

JANE’S TAKE

I live in the U.K. Granted, I wasn’t born here but I’ve spent the last decade of my life residing and working in Britain and, over time, have become reasonably familiar with all the dialects therein. Although I will never get the hang of Cockney rhyming slang (the first time someone asked me if I ‘fancied a butchers’ I had all sorts of bizarre images going through my head – we were going to some sort of butcher appreciation event? Some sort of sausage festival? Seemed a rather unlikely turn of events given the nature of the conference call we were having …). My point is that I have a semi-reasonable handle on regional accents these days.

I’ve worked with a few Scotsmen. One of my neighbours is from Edinburgh. And I can tell you right now that NONE of them sound remotely like Colin, the Scottish dude in this story. If ‘C’, said neighbour, started talking to me the way Colin does at certain points in Escape from Paradise, I’d probably think she’d been drinking a lot of Glenfiddich. In short, I could count on one hand the times I’ve heard ‘och’, ‘lass’, ‘lassie’, and ‘ken’ come up in conversation with Scottish people my age.

Reading the blurb for Escape from Paradise, I was excited – in fact, this was my reading choice rather than Michael’s. I like dark erotica, non-con in particular, and I thought this was going to be in the vein of C.J. Roberts’ Captive in the Dark, which I adored. Unfortunately, I fell rather heavily from the wagon within the first quarter of the book and just couldn’t get back on it again.

It wasn’t just the dialogue that flipped the off switch for me, but the rather erratic characterisation of both Colin and Marco, neither of which felt believable. The first does a dramatic personality one-eighty in the space of a few paragraphs, albeit due to a major life event (narcissistic party boy to avenging angel) and the latter is, well, just off somehow. (I was incredibly surprised that he didn’t kill Angela at the very beginning. I realise that would have stopped the story dead but, ultimately, that reaction from him to the circumstances would have been far more true to type.) Oh, and the way the police show up and deal with the crime involving Colin’s younger brother at the very beginning of this story? Er. No. It just wouldn’t happen that way here.

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” one of them said softly. “But we must work quickly. Your parents have been murdered and your brother’s gone missing. We’re taking you into custody for your own protection.”

Maybe this book works better for non-U.K. readers? Looking at this review I can see a lot of my gripes are to do with context and setting. For a comparison, it would be like me trying to write in a caricature American accent.

‘Howdy, Michael. Are you swell today? Because, dude, I totally I am. I am a total hot mess. My checking account is full of cooties and there’s a stick shift stuck in my drywall.’

Eh, something went wrong for me, that’s for sure. I wanted another Caleb, another Livvie – and I didn’t get either. Although looking at all the positive reviews Escape from Paradise is getting, it would seem I’m in the disliking minority.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to purchase a copy:

Amazon.co.uk

• Escape from Paradise – Kindle
• Escape from Paradise – Paperback

Amazon.com

• Escape from Paradise – Kindle
• Escape from Paradise – Paperback

The post Escape from Paradise – Gwendolyn Field appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

On Monday, we covered the books that, for various reasons, had some sort of influence on the first two decades of my life. In this post, I’m going to be looking at titles that have managed to stick a literary stake in me post-twenty through to the present day. (For those who’re curious I’m thirty-five, so this particular batch spans a fifteen-year period.)

Again, a really mixed bag, although my penchant for grit and darkness is, I think, far more evident in this group. Surprisingly, there are a number of YA books in the line-up; not sure whether that’s because I’m completely ambivalent when it comes to ‘recommended age group’ ratings or a sign that I’m desperately trying to have a second childhood. I’ll let you decide.

Jane Eyre – Charlotte Brontë
Age read: 21
Charlotte is my favourite Brontë, although after hating her sister Emily’s Wuthering Heights (I thought Heathcliff was a total tool) I was a bit slow in getting to her. Picked this one up and didn’t put it down until I’d reached the end. Rochester is, in my opinion, one of the best Byronic heroes out there. Complex, troubled, but ultimately loveable; smouldering and redeemable in a way that that wanker Heathcliff just isn’t. I’d even pick him over Mr Darcy.

Rain – Kirsty Gunn
Age read: 24
Another Kiwi novel, which just goes to show how strong an affinity I have with authors from the country I grew up in (New Zealand); clearly, there is something about the language and style of Godzone writers that speaks to me. This book is dark, there is no happy ending, and it is spectacular. In 2001, a film of the book was released, directed by Christine Jeffs (Sylvia, Sunshine Cleaning), which made it into the Directors’ Fortnight at Cannes. It also appeared at the Sundance, Edinburgh, Toronto, and Montreal film festivals. Watch the trailer below and be seduced. (Although I should warn you that a friend of mine bought the DVD on my recommendation and his wife cried for a week after watching it :-/)

Alias Grace – Margaret Atwood
Age read: 24
Did Grace do it? Is she an innocent young girl or a cold-blooded murderer? The colour symbolism in Margaret Atwood’s books never fails to win me over. Cat’s Eye, which is my other favourite of hers, plays with purple; Alias Grace, however, teases with the contrast of innocent white and guilty red. I adore clever authors and Atwood is as sharp as they come.

Venetia – Georgette Heyer
Age read: 27
What started as a casual dalliance rapidly exploded into a steaming hot love affair. I now have an entire shelf devoted to Georgette’s regency romances and, while I’ve named Venetia as my landmark book here, I could quite easily slot any one of her ton titles into its place. The libertine Lord Damerel? Well, we all need a bad boy to cheer for, don’t we?

Crank – Ellen Hopkins (YA)
Age read: 31
Two words: free verse. I found out about Crank because it was banned from a youth literary festival – or, rather, the author, Ellen Hopkins, was banned from said festival because her book was deemed to contain content ‘inappropriate’ for minors. Sex and drugs, basically. Wow. Young people don’t come across those sorts of things nowadays, do they? Tackling the very difficult topic of crystal meth addiction is one thing, but to do it in free verse? Ellen, I bow to you. Reading this was like being smacked in the face with breeze block – and I mean that as a compliment.

*You can read about the furore surrounding Crank here.

Story of O – Pauline Réage/Anne Desclos
Age read: 32
Why did it take me so long to get to this book? I really don’t know. Looking at my reading history, this should (in theory) have come much, much earlier. Pauline Réage (the pen name of French journalist Anne Desclos) supposedly penned O as something of an ‘in your face’ after being told by her lover, Jean Paulhan, that women weren’t capable of writing decent erotica. Originally produced as a series of love letters, Réage pulled out all the stops and turned out what I have come to think of as the BDSM erotica benchmark. Whipping, branding, piercing, sexual slavery … Reading it was a decidedly uncomfortable experience. You can absolutely tell that it was designed to appeal to Paulhan’s love of the Marquis de Sade. Disturbing and hot in equal measure.

Lean on Me – Cherise Sinclair
Age read: 32
BDSM erotic romance. No one does it like Ms Sinclair. This is actually the fourth entry in the Shadowlands series but it’s my favourite because the entire book is devoted to the development of the relationship between Cullen, an experienced Dom, and the fiercely independent Andrea, who’s desperate to submit. There’s no suspense plot. No mystery. Nothing except them working out how to be with one another. It’s rare that I pick an erotic romance up and read it more than once. Lean on Me, however, has been on and off my bookself multiple times.

Blood Promise – Richelle Mead (YA)
Age read: 32
Tears. Lots and lots of tears. In fact, at one point, my husband told me to put Blood Promise down because I got so upset over it. Rose is a teenage dhampir, a hunter of evil vampires known as Strigoi. The man who taught her to fight, the man she’s in love with, Dimitri, has been turned – and she must kill him. This book was emotionally relentless and ended with a cliffhanger of epic proportions – not something I normally like. Dimitri? *Sigh* Even when he’s totally soulless he’s delicious. (For some reason, my friend L has it in her head that he looks like Ashley Banjo – who I agree is very hot, but definitely not who I picture when I think of Russian vampire slayers!)

Forbidden – Tabitha Suzuma (YA)
Age: 34
Almost didn’t buy this because of the subject matter – incest – but was swayed by the stellar online reviews. I definitely made the right decision. This is a brilliant, brilliant book that, unfortunately, I think a lot of people run past because they’re worried about their ability to cope with the challenging content. Just to be clear, Forbidden IS NOT an erotica but a very (very) realistic portrayal of love between siblings. There’s no denying that this is a difficult read but Suzuma’s treatment of the topic is at once unashamed, delicate and masterful. She manages to create a grey area where I never, ever thought there could be one. Poignant and haunting (read: I cried, sobbed and snotted all over the place).

Captive in the Dark – C.J. Roberts
Age read: 34
Self-published. Independently marketed. Wickedly difficult subject matter. Actually, to the power of about a billion on that last one. As one reviewer friend on Goodreads said whilst reading it:

‘I might just have to scrub myself clean with a wire brush.’

He went on to give it a very high rating, as I did.

A classic example of an author going where angels fear to tread and turning out something amazing.

*You can find a full review of Captive in the Dark here.

So, that’s it. A very condensed summary of Jane through her reading habits. Enlightening? Interesting? Or have I now scared you all away with my penchant for dark tales involving death, murder, S/M, incest and human trafficking?! :-/

The post My Life in Books (Part Two) appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

We’re taking a bit of a break this week, so there won’t be any new posts until Monday 12 November. If you’re new to Behind the Chintz Curtain and want to know what we’re all about (or you haven’t stopped by in a while), here’s a selection of last month’s most popular posts:

TOYS

• C is for clitoris, C is for clip
• Christian Grey’s playthings, part three: pleasure beads
• Squeeze. Tease. The agony and ecstasy of nipple clamps
• The Wartenberg pinwheel: the sharp edge of sensation play
• Toy with me Tuesday: Autumn berries
• This story is about a little vibrator. Her name is Gigi
• Toy with me Tuesday: Surprise!
• A touch of glass: the Spartacus Smooth G-Spot Dildo

EROTIC BOOKS & STORIES

• Yes, Sir (Erotic Stories of Female Submission) - Rachel Kramer Bussel
• Uncle Charles’ Girls – Anne Randolph
• Seduced in the Dark - C.J. Roberts

I hope you find something you like!

Jane
x

The post Hiatus appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

Title:

dark
adjective
1. with little or no light
2. (of a colour or object) not reflecting much light; approaching black in shade
3. (of a period or situation) characterised by great unhappiness or unpleasantness
4. hidden from knowledge; mysterious

noun
1. (the dark) the absence of light in a place
2. a dark colour or shade, especially in a painting

I have picked through the above definitions numerous times, trying to decide which one best reflects C.J, Roberts’ Seduced in the Dark, but it’s virtually impossible, because they all apply. It is a story with the barest glimmer of light visible at the end of a long, dark tunnel. A story with a plot that borders on pitch black. A story with characters and situations that twist your stomach. A story that, perversely, arouses you and mere seconds later makes you want to weep. A story of secrets. And, yes, I realise that the title refers to the noun form of the word ‘dark’ but the adjective is equally relevant, equally valid, when describing the fabric of this book. Similarly, I cannot help but pick apart the meaning of the title word ‘seduce’ and ponder its relationship to the story: ‘to attract someone to a belief or course of action that is inadvisable or foolhardy’. Because who is ultimately seduced in and by this murky tale? The characters, the reader, or both?

I need to say up-front that it is virtually impossible to review Seduced in the Dark without introducing some spoilers because its plot is so closely tied to part one of the Dark Duet series, Captive in the Dark (which I reviewed back in July). I will do my best to keep them to a minimum but if you’re spoiler-averse, I suggest you look away now. Further, Seduced in the Dark – and therefore this review – will likely make no sense if you’ve not yet heard of, started, or finished Captive. It cannot be read in isolation. As C.J. Roberts herself says in her ‘note to the reader’ at the very beginning of Seduced:

‘If you’re reading this and you haven’t read Captive in the Dark, turn back! You’ll be lost.’

I had high hopes for Seduced in the Dark – its predecessor was gritty, engaging, unsettlingly sexy, and very well written. Even better, it was a self-published work and I have a bit of a thing for authors who 1) have the courage to go it alone, and 2) have the talent and skill to turn out a great piece of writing without any professional hand-holding. Kudos.

So did Seduced live up to my expectations? Absolutely.

I love the way C.J. Roberts structured this book. She could very easily have made it a straight-forward continuation of Captive in the Dark, neatly stitching the first page of Seduced to the last page of Captive – but she resolutely resisted the temptation to be boring and predictable. Instead, from the very first sentence, the reader is presented with a patchwork puzzle of information that alludes to the direction the story will take, yet leaves huge, tantalising holes of knowledge that they’re unable to immediately fill. They’re in the dark, just as the characters of Seduced are. They can see there’s hope, but it’s a mere pinprick of light that’s at risk of being snuffed out in an instant.

It’s Livvie who draws us back into the story, and her situation is unexpected to say the least. When we last saw her in Captive, she was possessed by Caleb in every sense of the word – emotionally, physically, as a chattel. But most importantly, she was trying to come to terms with her feelings for him and the fate he had planned for her – sexual slavery at the hands of a man he intended to kill – and her devastation that Caleb would sacrifice her as a utilitarian pawn in a game of revenge.

On page one of Seduced, Caleb is still causing Livvie pain. But the source and method of her hurt is very different. It is Caleb’s absence rather than his presence, the separation of her fate from his original intent, that now has her hung, quartered and drawn.

‘Vivisected. It’s the only word I can think of to describe how I’m feeling – vivisected. As though someone has cut me open with a scalpel, the pain not sinking in until the flesh begins to separate and my blood bubbles out. I can hear the crack as my ribs are flayed open. Slowly, my organs, wet and sticky, are pulled out of me one at a time. Still. Alive.
.
.
.
I want to leave this place. There’s nothing wrong with me. If Caleb were here, I’d walk right out of this place, happy, smiling and complete. But he’s gone. And they won’t let me grieve for him in peace.’

What has happened? How has Livvie, Kitten, become separated from her captor, her Master? Was she sold? Has she escaped? Was she sent to Pakistan? Is Caleb dead?

In the initial chapter, which is broken into non-sequential days, C.J. Roberts feeds the reader the edge pieces of a much larger puzzle and we learn that Livvie is in the psych ward of a hospital in a very precarious mental state. Even more worryingly, she is being questioned by members of the FBI and facing multiple criminal charges, including assault against federal border patrol officers, possession of a weapon, resisting arrest, and felony murder. Clearly, she is back in the U.S. and no longer in Mexico but how did she get there? Why is she not being treated as a victim of human trafficking but, instead, as a criminal? And where the hell is Caleb?!

C.J. Roberts doesn’t give it away easily. Over the course of the book, she colours in the blanks, slowly revealing what has happened between the end of Captive and the beginning of Seduced as Livvie unwillingly recounts her experiences to the members of the FBI assigned to her case, the aggressive Agent Reed and the quietly perceptive Dr Sloan. Cleverly, she frustrates both them and the reader, revealing partial truths and giving selective accounts, forcing those listening to her tale to knit together the threads of her ordeal and discover what she – and Caleb – have gone through since we last saw them. Least you be worried that Caleb is completely hidden from view, don’t panic. He is still very much a part of the story, his third person presence peppered between Livvie’s first person narrative, providing support and cadence to the tale being told – and revealing his inevitable crumbling in the face of his past, his future and his feelings for Livvie.

I have asked myself many, many times why I empathise and, yes, actually like Caleb. He is everything I should abhor: a human trafficker, a murder. But there is something in him that just barely stops him falling into the category of irredeemable villan. Does he hurt Livvie? Yes, physically and mentally. Is he a good person? Not really. He’s certainly no candidate for sainthood. I can only boil it down to one thing – that his life, over which he’s had virtually no control, has dictated who he is. He was made. As he himself says:

‘I wasn’t born a monster’

Watching Caleb in Seduced in the Dark was close to painful and he affected me far more than any other character, because, in the end, I saw him as the victim. Seeing him dismantle himself, emotional stone by emotional stone, and eventually confront a ghastly truth (a truth I actually suspected at the end of book one) left me feeling very raw. But his erosion, the torture of his character, never felt gratuitous. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it was necessary and a big reason why the book’s conclusion works – both in terms of plausibility and from a moral point of view.

Partway through the novel, Livvie says the following of Caleb:

‘In the dark, he seduced me. I didn’t want the seduction to end.’

Livvie’s acknowledgement is undoubtedly valid but the truth is that it’s actually her who seduces him. She who shines light on the man dwelling in the shadows and makes him consider the infinite blackness around him.

I’m not going to talk about the more major secondary characters in Seduced in the Dark – Dr Sloan, Agent Reed, and Caleb’s acquaintance Rafiq – because I think that it’s important their respective roles in the story are discovered by the reader. I will say, however, that I was intrigued by the byplay between the two FBI agents and I get the sense that Roberts, while concluding Caleb and Kitten’s story with Captive in the Dark, has left the door wide open for a tale involving the two of them.

There is a song I adore by Placebo, Running up that hill, a wonderful cover of an original Kate Bush track. It’s not cheerful. It’s not flowery. The lyrics are painful. It’s about hurt and dark places. And it seduces me every time time I hear it. Seduced in the Dark is its literary equivalent and I loved it.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to buy Seduced in the Dark: Amazon.co.uk (Kindle ; Paperback), Amazon.com (Kindle ; Paperback).

The post Seduced in the Dark – C.J. Roberts appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

Title:

I’m pretty bombproof when it comes to subject matter – there’s not a lot that can shock me – but if I’m going to tackle something harrowing, the balance has to be absolutely perfect: the writing has to be solid, the story clever, the characters worth the emotional investment. So having read the synopsis for this book on Amazon and come face-to-face with the pretty blunt warning about its content (‘This book contains very disturbing situations, dubious consent, strong language, and graphic violence’), I wondered how I would get on with Captive in the Dark and what I might be letting myself in for.

An amazing book, as it turned it. I am not exaggerating when I say C.J. Roberts – who wrote and published Captive in the Dark herself – had me in the palm of her hand from the prologue. Lately, it’s been a bit of a struggle to find BDSM erotica books that stand out from the crowd and have something truly unique about them (one power exchange plot can start to feel very much like another) but Captive had me absolutely glued. To the point that I couldn’t even put it down to do the dishes – and let me tell you, scrubbing a dirty pot one-handed is hard. I devoured the entire book in a day, that’s how good it was, and then immediately visited C.J. Roberts’s website to find out when Volume 2, Seduced in the Dark, was due. (As you’ve probably guessed from the title, Captive in the Dark is part of a series.)

The premise is a challenging one. The book’s prologue introduces us to Caleb, who is, for all intents and purposes, stalking eighteen-year-old Olivia Ruiz (Livvie), a poor high school student living in a not-so-savoury part of Los Angeles. Caleb is a slave trainer – a man who teaches girls to become pleasure slaves for the gratification of wealthy men – and he plans to kidnap Olivia, smuggle her out of the United States, train her, and sell her at auction in Pakistan. Olivia’s sale has a purpose other than money, though; it will help him instigate a revenge plot against a man named Vladek Rostrovich – a shady Russian whose past is inextricably tied to Caleb’s.

When the book begins in earnest, we learn that Olivia’s abduction has taken place and, unbeknownst to her, she is en route to Mexico. Her kidnapping is traumatic enough in and of itself, but her arrival over the border is when her nightmare really begins. It signals the start of a dark psychological battle between her and her captor, Caleb, who is absolutely determined to break Olivia down to her core in order to create the perfect, saleable, sex slave. Olivia is equally determined to fight and resist him – even if it means bringing the full force of Caleb raining down upon her. And when I say force, I really do mean it. (‘I like to hurt you Kitten…it’s what gets me off.’)

For all intents and purposes, this is a story about human trafficking but C.J. Roberts doesn’t make it anywhere near that simple for the reader. Against all odds, she manages to grab hold of this incredibly emotive and difficult subject and turn it into something dark, edgy and powerful. The key to her success? Well, in my opinion it’s largely to do with her amazing and brilliant characterisation of Caleb. As I read the prologue, I wondered how on earth she was going to redeem this man – a human being who is single-minded in his focus, and almost (almost) completely remorseless about what he is doing.

‘There was only one obstacle between him and vengeance. The last true test of his soullessness – wilfully stripping someone of their freedom.
         He’d trained so many he no longer remembered their names. He could train this one too …’

And the short answer is that she doesn’t. At least, not in the way that you expect her to. Caleb is absolutely a product of abuse and the criminal underworld he’s a part of – sadistic, cruel and unforgiving – and Roberts doesn’t give into the temptation to give him a hearts and flowers makeover to make things easier on the reader. Not even when Olivia’s thoughts and emotions start to become tangled towards him. What she does do, however, is let us to glimpse where Caleb has come from and in doing so, helps us understand why he behaves the way he does. Despite wanting to hate him, I began to find myself torn in my feelings towards Caleb and, heaven forbid, seeing him as being deserving of sympathy. He is the ultimate anti-hero.

In heaping praise on the characterisation of Caleb, I can’t fault that of Olivia either. Given the bleak nightmare she is thrust into, she has your empathy from the very beginning but as the novel progresses, she also gains your respect. She is fundamentally powerless against Caleb but that doesn’t stop her from trying to escape the horror she finds herself in. She has grit, but she also has a sense of self-preservation.

Interestingly, Captive in the Dark is told in both the third person and first person, with Caleb’s thoughts and actions being observed and Olivia’s coming directly from her. Reflecting on it, this was a smart choice on the author’s part because it allows the reader to experience the full impact of the trauma and abuse that falls upon Olivia (‘I was my pain and nothing else. No thoughts, no emotions, only a body screaming to be released’) and to examine Caleb’s rationale for the way he behaves at a slight distance – almost in the same way that he examines himself. This becomes more and more important as the book progresses and he tries to understand his increasingly complex feelings towards his captive (‘He wondered, not for the first time, what the fuck he was thinking. He knew this was the last thing he should be doing, inviting her into his space’). When the tenuous thread of humanity that’s present in him emerges, it is all the more believable because we’ve been able to see what has led to its appearance. Ultimately, the reader becomes as confused as Olivia is about Caleb; he stands as a dark, yet steady beacon within the even darker world Olivia has been dragged kicking and screaming into. Is she suffering from Stockholm syndrome? Is the reader, for that matter?

If I had to pick on one thing to improve Captive, it would be the editing. As with a most self-published books, it could have been a little tighter. There were some punctuation errors and some minor typos but, really, for an indie title, the standard was pretty good.

Captive in the Dark won’t be for everyone. It is gritty, twisted, and goes places some readers will be uncomfortable with. However, if you are open-minded and enjoy the psychological dynamics of power-exchange (in this case, not quite consensual and with a heavy dose of sadism) I think you’ll devour this book. I can’t say it’s an ‘enjoyable read’ – the subject matter doesn’t allow it to be – but it is undeniably erotic and disturbing in equal measure and I cannot wait for the second instalment to be released in September.

Read it. I dare you.

Captive in the Dark: The Dark Duet (Volume 1) is available from: Amazon.co.uk (Kindle ; paperback), Amazon.com (Kindle ; paperback).

The post Captive in the Dark: The Dark Duet (Volume 1) – C.J. Roberts appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.