Feb 08 2015

A Review of Death Becomes Her by D. Valley

Death Becomes Her by D. Valley

Death Becomes Her by D. Valley

Knowing of one’s self is more than simply being aware of who you are, but more importantly what you are. It is part and parcel therefore that losing one’s self, becoming not just lost in spirit, but in body and mind can be crippling to an extreme. So what happens when a Succubus is punished? What happens to her then?

What does she think about, feel, know inside of herself? What happens when someone opens her eyes to who and what she is? What comes next?

It is an interesting thought…

  • Title: Death Becomes Her
  • Author: D. Valley
  • Length: 18 Pages
  • ASIN: B00J9XP9GY
  • Publishing Date: March 26, 2014
  • This work at Amazon.com

The work tells the story of:

A chilling paranormal tale. Bella, a forlorn temptress, has lost the will to live after a fiery rendezvous with Dominic. Dominic is not what he seems. Neither is she. As fate would have it, there are a legion of ways for one to lose their soul. Yes, there are worse ways to die…

Bella is a wreck. Falling apart, pining for a man that she feels like she needs like no other. She thinks about ending everything, but cannot. But then he returns and she is taken on a journey to find who she is, why she is, and more.

Bella is, quite clearly, a Succubus, This is made very clear by the situation she is found in, how she looks, what she remembers about her past. She has no horns or tail however, but she has the powers of a Succubus in that she does feed on the life, and souls, of others. But interestingly, only one specific kind of person and in that I found I could accept her motives and reasons when they were explained.

Bella’s personality and character is stunningly told from the first page and I rather enjoyed that. She isn’t a cardboard cutout, nor stereotypical. This made me like her even more as the story progressed along. All of her emotional distress feels right as is the moment when she is brought to what and who she is by Dominic.

Dominic is an Incubus, again without horns or tail, and what makes him more is that he cares about Bella, wants to make her whole and return her to being who she is. He pushes and shoves her into action, though she never really wants to. He is the driving force in the story that moves it from watching a woman falling apart to one of both rediscovery and excitement in being whole once more.

The work really isn’t erotica per se, and I think that having it turn in that direction to a great extent would have ruined this work as a whole. The author focuses on the mystery that surrounds Bella, takes the reader on the journey, and at the end you are left with so many questions about both Bella and Dominic.

As a whole, the writer does very well in telling this story, making one care about Bella and staying with her though out the work. The only real problem i have is with the very end of the work. I don’t think it fits with the rest of the story and seems like a sentence added for the sake of having it appear. The mystery, story, events, and conclusion create a world that really does have very much going for it… But it ends far too soon and I wish it had not ended where it did. The work feels like the beginning of a larger story and that would have been something to see.

I’m giving this work four out of five pitchforks.

Far too short for all of the story that exists here. The ending is not quite what I expected it to be, and really this should be the beginning to a much longer work by far. Two characters this well developed, told, and given form and yet the story can only begin to scrape the who of them both. It would be nice to see something more.

 

Tera

Feb 07 2015

An almost perfect Morrigan Aensland Art YouTube

I think I have found what well may be the best work of Morrigan Aensland art that I have seen this year so far… It’s an amazing work and fortunately beside the YouTube, I also found this artist’s page on DeviantArt, and so it will be what I share this time on the Tale…

And if the video does not work here on the Tale, try this link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=blz-J7gjCYg

And here is the image of Morrigan, the work called Lady Aensland by Jose Andres…

Lady Aensland by Jose Andres

Lady Aensland by Jose Andres

You can find the original page with this art on DeviantArt here and Jose Andres’ main art page can be found here.

I think, as a whole, this really tells a lot about Morrigan’s character and her personality. It’s incredibly detailed and in that comes a lot of things that I think are interesting… One of them being the length of Morrigan nails which make me ponder a bit. But the thing that I adore most of all was the look in her eyes here and the smile that is playing upon her lips.

That, more than anything for me, is what defines Morrigan and this artist I think has captured the mischievousness and style that she shows so very well…

 

Tera

Feb 06 2015

A Review of Ghosts, Monsters and Madmen by D. Nathan Hilliard

Ghosts, Monsters and Madmen by D. Nathan Hilliard

Ghosts, Monsters and Madmen by D. Nathan Hilliard

One of the more interesting aspects of the idea of Succubi is that their story of where they came from and what their purpose is, can be varied in so many ways. It is also possible to give them certain powers or abilities that provide means for either redemption or damnation.

Many times that story is seen from the aspect of the Succubus herself. But what if the damnation and redemption was seen from someone that was never meant to be? And what comes of that in the end?

The work I will be reviewing this time is an anthology of stories, but as my focus is rather specific, I will be speaking about one specific story in the collection which would be my favourite even if I wasn’t so focused on Succubi.

  • Title: Ghosts, Monsters and Madmen
  • Author: D. Nathan Hilliard
  • Length: 271 Pages
  • ASIN: B00JH5EHWQ
  • Publishing Date: April 4, 2014
  • This work at Amazon.com

The work is a collection of:

Within this book you will meet the malevolent dead, creatures with a hunger for human flesh, and men with hearts hardened by guilt, vengeance, and betrayal. Spirits race on moonlit highways, judges find themselves on the other side of justice, day-trippers end up on the wrong end of the food chain, and a reluctant cat stands between his family and a primeval fiend…and much more. Things are often not as they first appear in this well-turned collection of shadows, but each story delivers with grim satisfaction. So get comfortable and prepare to enjoy a fearful buffet served by a natural storyteller. Just be sure and leave the lights on.

This collection of stories has moments of horror and at other times the horror is not that of the supernatural kind, but the human one. It is an interesting mix of myths, legends, fears, hopes and dreams that touch upon some questions about humanity’s wants and needs, but also its darker side as well.

The final work in this collection, That Last, Lone Kiss Goodbye, tells the story of Colin, his past, and the woman that haunts him. It tells of the darkness that has whispered inside of him since they kissed and she vanished. He is called by her, a year later, and the truth about Colin, and about her, becomes tragically clear.

The tragic part of this story is the truth about Barbara, the woman that haunts Colin so. She calls herself a Succubus and admits to her purpose as such. But it how she came to be, what she does, and why she does so that is tragic on so many levels. It is more so when she explains why Colin’s darkness has enveloped him and, the worst of all, what she has been responsible for and the only way she can make things right.

It is shattering to see what happens to Colin from the past before meeting Barbara, through the moment that comes at the conclusion of this story. The words within him that goad him, push him towards doing unspeakable things are strong and insistent, but what I felt was the most powerful was Colin’s own sense of keeping his sanity, his… soul. The battle that wages throughout this work tells of temptations and suggestions that someone lesser would have given way to, and, more interestingly, Barbara tells of this in the past.

As a whole, the collection is varied in subject and tone, but in each of the works the author tells of characters who remain with you, tells stories that are strong, clear, and have their own truths. By doing so the collected works are wonderful short stories that are more than they first appear to be. I did feel however that some points in the opening works in the collection seemed slightly… lost. By that I mean that the stories seemed to lose their way partway through the work before finding it again. This happened to a lesser extent in That Last, Lone Kiss Goodbye at the point in the story where Barbara reappeared, but the author was past that very quickly and as a result it is barely noticeable.

I’m giving this work three and a half out of five pitchforks, but That Last, Lone Kiss Goodbye I’ll give five out of five pitchforks.

I suppose that we shall never see anything more about Barbara, which for me is somewhat disappointing. But this small tale about her leaves me wanting that and more.

 

Tera

Feb 05 2015

Succubi Image of the Week 368

What I think is a very striking piece of Morrigan Aensland art on the Tale today for the Succubi of the Week. Sometimes the best thing, when it comes to telling about someone, is to focus oneself upon what are their most important features. Not so much the physical ones, but rather that which gives them presence and power. I think this piece of art quite clearly does that.

Morrigan Aensland by ツムジン

Morrigan Aensland by ツムジン

I found this work of art here on Pixiv and honestly I think it’s really quite a powerful image of Morrigan in one important aspect. Rather than her body being the focus… it’s her eyes. I don’t think I have seen very often so much expression in the eyes alone of art of Morrigan and in this case there’s something very haunting about the look in her eyes.

It feels very emotional and with that comes an interesting effect the artist has created here in that the sharpest relief is in her eyes and then it slowly becomes less focused as one looks away from them. I think the emphasis on Morrigan’s hair to frame her eyes and the downplaying of her cleavage only adds to the power of the image as a whole.

Simply gorgeous and one of my favourite images of Morrigan for this year by far…

 

Tera

Feb 04 2015

The name of this costume is as bad as the costume is

Red Devil High Collar Long Sleeves CostumeI wonder sometimes if the lack of imagination about a costume comes from the costume itself or if it is the name of the costume that does it. It’s like the question of the chicken and the egg… Which came first? In this costume’s case… neither would be the right answer I think.

This is called, and I am serious, the Red Devil High Collar Long Sleeves Costume. I have to say that at least they aren’t missing out on a lot of descriptives… Save for lousy or ugly that is.

The costume comes with the romper, the pitchfork and the horns. It sells for $25 US, shoes not included.

Honestly this ranks into the worst 10 costumes I have seen. There’s so much eye burning ugliness in this disaster that it pains me to try and start describing just how bad it is.

Pitchfork? Lousy. Horns? Look like sparkly rabbit ears. The zipper in the front is “eye-catching” and I use that term very loosely. It is only that for the way it screams “cheap!”

As a overall look, there isn’t anything sexy about it. The high collar is so silly in the first place and then the entire style of the costume seems to say that no imagination was needed save a vat of red dye to colour the costume.

This is one of those disasters that has no possible means to making it better… Save for tossing it into a fire and watching it burn for amusement…

Zero pitchforks out of five.

I don’t need to say to avoid this do I?

 

Tera

 

Feb 03 2015

A Review of Gender Swapped by the Succubus by Sinn Lee

Gender Swapped by the Succubus by Sinn Lee

Gender Swapped by the Succubus by Sinn Lee

I adore intelligent Succubi. I think that the most wonderful thing I can read is where a Succubus comes up with a plan, an idea, that shows she’s more than sex on heels.

It amazes me that, up until the point I read this work, no one came up with this simple, logical means for a Succubus to get what she needs as easily as possible. That’s not to say she’s lazy, far from it. I think she might well be one of the most intelligent Succubi I have read in some time…

The summary tells of:

Ben’s life is turned upside down when a name appears to him in a dream. This single event is a domino effect which leads to Ben’s gender change and servitude to a succubus. The succubus Amun’Kori decides that it’s better to have Ben do all the naughty work with men, instead of always going out herself. Why bother sleeping with men and stealing their souls when she can gender swap Ben and have him screw men for her?

Bill has a very memorable dream and with that dream comes a name: Amun’Kori that name leads him to a website where after a short chat, the succubus Amun’Kori appears in the flesh. Soon after Bill is transformed into Brook and only wishes to serve her Mistress’ will.

This is one of the most unique succubus stories that I have read for some time. The gender transformation aspect has appeared before, but the reason for it, the mind control inherent with it is actually quite a bit different and does, in a way, make a lot of sense.

Amun’Kori’s reasons for her going to Bill and transforming him into Brook, looking at things from the perspective of a Succubus did give me pause. However if Kori is the only Succubus that is using this method, which really seems to be unlikely as I would think that using others to gain what a Succubus needs would be inherently obvious.

But it is the method Kori uses, how she connects with Bill that just really worked well. After all, you can find anything on the internet can’t you?

Once Bill is Brook, there’s a lovely bit of mind control that comes into play that is very lightly played in the story, By doing so, the use of it doesn’t seem to overwhelm Brook, makes her want to obey her Mistress and do her bidding.

While there isn’t a lot seen of Kori erotically, there is quitea lot with Brook. The hot flash is quite well done, if rather short and to the point however.

Setting aside the erotica, this is another example of a story, characters and universe created my this author than needed another ten or so pages to fully develop into something more. Or be the opening chapters in a longer story.

But this is, I regret, too short and leaves a lot of questions I’d like answered about Kori, about Brook’s new life and more.

Four out of five pitchforks.

Too short for what is created, it would have been nice for more story to be developed for all of the buildup in the beginning. I like Kori, I really do. Perhaps she’ll appear again sometime…

 

Tera

Feb 02 2015

Explained by TeraS

For those that were expecting Sparkly Horn Horror this time on the Tale, I really have been stalled on that story and I set it aside in order to try and write something. This is that … something. This appears on Groundhog Day and … I do feel sometimes like I am repeating my stories over and over again …

Still, sometimes there are things to say and they need to be …

 

Explained
By TeraS

 

Occasionally, though it is rare, there are those in the universe who can see more than most can. Sometimes they see the world around them a bit differently. Sometimes they see shadows or flashes of light that no one else can see. Sometimes they see something—or someone—that pushes at their sense of reality, or belief, and forces them to reconsider that which means the most to them.

Sometimes the question is asked by a raven-haired woman with a pair of red horns poking through her hair and a long red tail.

She should have been cowed by them, frightened certainly, even begging for mercy. That is what they expected when they had surrounded her. Of course, she was found in a place where there was nothing but pain, suffering, and more. That is where their kind dwelled, after all. They expected that she would fight them, in a battle where many would fall. They were prepared for her to twist some of them into things of darkness, the survivors having to end them to protect themselves and the innocents around them.

They had been told, clearly, that she was to be shown no mercy, because her kind, those with horns and tails, were obviously evil and would not give any mercy in return. They attacked, weapons drawn, intending to subdue her as quickly as possible and then vanish into the night. The thing was, none of that unfolded as they expected, and this brought the first small questions into their minds about what, and who, they were dealing with.

Before they could set up their ambush, before they could place their traps, before they could create a situation where nothing could survive … she simply walked out of the depths of the darkened streets. She walked up to them, unconcerned about her safety, it seemed, and approached the leader of their group. She stopped a short distance away, crossed her arms over her chest and regarded them all. She had an expression on her that they couldn’t quite read, but the first words she spoke made it all clear.

“Explain yourselves.”

For a moment, they were all taken aback by her force of will, but then they remembered they were all protected from evil, from what it could do with their minds, and their bravado returned with the leader of their group answering in a gruff voice: “Prepare to die.”

Her eyes narrowed, the green bright and clear beneath the bangs of her wild ebony hair: “I have better things to do. If you were doing good, you would be helping here. But you are not. All you have in you is black.”

Of course they all took this as an affront: a creature like her making such a claim was unthinkable. They drew their weapons, seeing no other choice but to fight her in the here and now, the innocents be damned.

She shook her head, pinched her nose, and sighed: “Fine.”

At this point, they expected her to summon darkness to protect her, to turn into her true evil form. They had seen if before, and were prepared for that again. What they were not prepared for what when she offered her wrists and said: “Bind me. Take me away from here. You will not cause harm here.”

They did not know what to make of this, as never had a creature like her given up without a fight. The leader couldn’t help himself, blurting out: “Explain yourself.”

She smiled, and that smile was one that they knew had no power over them. It couldn’t. Yet it did, and they lowered their weapons slightly. She did not move as she replied: “You will not hurt a soul in this place by your actions. If I do not fight, you will not either. At least there is that much honour in you. So, bind me, take me away.”

They did so, they had the special bindings to hold any being of evil and secured her with them. From that point onwards it should have been a simple matter to walk out of the place, drag her along, and then deal with her elsewhere.

It didn’t quite go as they expected.

They expected to be cheered as they left, to be called heroes for taking this evil from this place. It had happened every time before, and they expected this occasion to be no different. Instead they found that, at first, they were greeted by looks of surprise, then confusion, and then—more troubling—disdain for what they were doing. It started with one of the elders, one they had not spoken to, looking at them in anger and sternly barking two words: “Explain yourselves.”

They were only the first of many. It seemed the further they walked, the more of the inhabitants of this place were coming out to see what they had done. The next demand was made by a child. Two words: “Explain yourselves.”

The next by a couple, the wife with child: “Explain yourselves.”

They did not answer any of these queries, for they had no need to speak to anyone, they knew exactly where the evil was. Still, they quickly escaped the place, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the moment, but certain in their own minds that she was responsible for what happened. She obviously placed a spell on all of the locals, making them so demanding. It didn’t mean a thing.

This was an assumption that none of them should have made.

They arrived at the place they had been told to bring all of the evils they had found, the place where the evils would be judged—a formality—and then ended—which was decidedly not. The building was made to hold evil, restrain it, bind it tightly.

Again, this didn’t go as they expected.

The first sign of a problem was when they finally noticed that the bindings they had used on her, which should have been tight … were not. In fact she had tapped the leader on his shoulder and handed him the bindings with the comment: “Would you like to listen to an explanation?”

When he moved to grab her, expecting her to run away, she pointed at the building in front of them and sighed: “Fine. Let’s go inside. Maybe that will explain it.”

When they placed her in shackles, then locked the cell door and activated the wards, they all felt safe and secure. They all knew, without a shadow of doubt, that no evil could possibly escape their prison. They retired to their canteen, to have a meal and mull over the creature. It was just as the first drink was served that the door to the place swung open with a loud creak.

She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, her long red jacket swirling around her legs, and she glared at all of them. Again she demanded: “Explain yourselves.”

This was impossible! She couldn’t have escaped! Even if she had gotten out of the shackles—which was unthinkable—she could not open the door to the cell or any of the doors in the place. Evil could not do anything there.

Still, she walked into the room, stopping at the far end of the table where they were. “Now, at this point, most intelligent beings are questioning if I am what they think I am. Are you yet?”

The silence in the room was deafening, and the looks they gave her didn’t seem to faze her in the slightest.

“Fine. If you want me, I’ll not be in that cell. I’ll be in your library, reading. Come see me when you can explain yourselves.”

They moved to stop her, but she vanished in a puff of cherry-scented smoke, and that was when panic set in. They scrambled all over their keep, looking for her, knowing that she couldn’t be in the library. The books were sacred: evil could not touch them, use them, or even read them.

When they did find her, she was, in fact, reading by the fireplace in their library. She placed a finger upon the page she was reading, to keep her place and waited, patiently. When they said nothing, but came into the room and surrounded her, she turned her attention to the book she was reading again. “This explains a lot. Who you are, what you do and why. But it does not explain how it is that you are so blind as not to see the truth when it is staring you in the face.”

She turned the page and posed a question to the leader of the group: “How do you know evil?”

He would have preferred to drag her out of the room, but held his hand and answered: “We know it when we see it.”

“I see. Therefore, the failure of your bindings, your spells, your wards and all that you use against evil tells you nothing about me, then?”

“You have the marks of evil.”

She smiled: “Those that I have given comfort, love, and hope to would disagree with you.”

“You trick them.”

She tilted her head to the right: “Really? Then tell me. What is your absolute proof of evil that none can overcome? Please, I ask you, test me. See if you are right or wrong.”

It took some time, during which they all expected her to run, to burn them, to create chaos and destruction. Instead she kept reading the books, one by one, and occasionally leaving for the kitchen to make herself something she called ‘tea’ before returning to her reading.

The time finally arrived, and they brought to her their test. It never failed. It would always, always turn to where evil was. They had searched for some time to locate a newborn and her mother. While the mother would not tell truly the sight of evil, the child would. In evil’s presence they would cry and howl in despair. They expected her to now explode in anger, to kill them all, something to prove she was evil.

Instead she looked up from where she rested when they brought their test in. She smiled, put her book down and then offered: “Please, won’t you both come in?”

While that surprised them, they were more so when she offered the mother her chair, asked if she needed help somehow, and then took another, less comfortable chair from elsewhere in the room to sit beside them.

The mother should have been concerned, upset, angry that her life and that of her child were in danger. Instead the mother looked at the leader of their group and repeated a now familiar demand: “Explain yourselves.”

Before he could, the creature—he still thought of her as that—answered for him: “They wish to test me, to see if I am evil or not. They believe that newborns can tell, for they are the closest to the light of all of us.”

The mother chuckled: “Are they all really that dense?”

She smiled: “They wish proof. They cannot explain themselves.”

There was no other hesitation as the newborn was given to her and she held the child in her arms. No cry, howl, fret, anguish. The child looked up, smiled, and even laughed. She did not look up at them, her attention on the child in her arms as she spoke. “You cannot see anymore. The evidence has been there in front of you all of this time. You have all become so blinded that, when light shines at you, the darkness you dwell in takes it away. You cannot explain yourselves.”

She paused, still looking at the child as a halo formed just above her horns. Large black feathered wings appeared behind her as she stood, still cradling the child carefully. She kissed the child on her forehead and then gave her back to her mother, the two sharing a look between themselves.

She then turned to her ersatz captors, a look of sadness upon her as she did so: “Open your eyes to see. No one else can do that for you.”

She then walked past them all, stopping at the leader’s side for a moment: “See them home safely or you will explain yourselves to me.”

He nodded, still not believing that she had passed the test, as she left the keep, vanishing into the dusk as she did so.

The mother stood and asked: “Do you know her name?”

“No.”

The mother looked at the book the woman had been reading and then closed it with her free hand: “Had you known your own legends, you would have known her name.”

She then looked at her daughter: “And you, my child, you now have a name, too.”

Many years would pass by, the green eyes of her daughter twinkling at the sound of the name, a name she would come to know in the years to come, for she would hear it every day. The day came, many years later, when she discovered a book in the archives of her town. The image in the book and the name written there told her much, but then the story that followed told even more. When she came home that night, she hugged her mother and showed her the book, open to the page with the name, picture, and story.

“I … know her. Can you please explain?”

That story took some time for her mother to tell. At the end of the story she resolved to find this …Tera. Perhaps she might remember her. Perhaps she might explain.

Perhaps she would be pleased to know that they had the same name …

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