Dear Dave, Let's Sort It Over A Good Cup Of Tea

Following last night's post An Open Letter to Dave Mustaine (thanks for the support, guys! It means a lot to me!), I wanted to write a bit of a follow up.

You see, I was raised in Christian household and my parents brought me up to love and respect my fellow man. They taught me about a God who loves and accepts everyone. About a God who took all the sinners under his wing. Surely this is a God who would want us to all be happy? Surely he doesn't care if you're black, white, pink, green or rainbow coloured? Surely he doesn't care who you're with as long as you're happy and putting good into the world?

Are my parents any less Christian because they taught me about love, peace and tolerance? Are they any less Christian for having friends who are gay?

Yes, the Bible teaches that homosexuality is wrong but it also teaches that you shouldn't have bowl haircuts (Leviticus 19:27: "You shall not round off the side-growth of your heads."); that fortune telling is wrong (Leviticus 19:31: "Do not turn to mediums or spiritists; do not seek them out to be defiled by them."); that tattoos are a no-no ( Leviticus 19:28: "You shall not make any cuts in your body for the dead nor make any tattoo marks on yourselves: I am the Lord.") and that those polyester trousers you think make you look like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever are against God's plan for the world (Leviticus 19:19: "You are to keep My statutes. You shall not breed together two kinds of your cattle; you shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed, nor wear a garment upon you of two kinds of material mixed together.")

So, you see, the world's changed. Those passages are seen as insignificant in this day and age. So why is there still the hate? Surely Christians are supposed to be loving and caring, welcoming all into their world? Surely they should be drawing these people closer and showing them that yes, someone loves them even when they've been abandoned by their family, friends and, more often than not, society?

You see pictures of Jesus and what do you see? You see someone who's loving and caring. Not someone who's smiting a person just because they love their own sex and, goodness forbid, would like the same rights as everyone else! I'm sure that God would want everyone to have the same rights. Women, children, transsexuals etc. I'm sure he'd want everyone to be happy and feel safe, knowing that if something went wrong their (same sex) loved one would have the same rights as every other couple. I'm sure he'd want someone who was undergoing a sex change to feel safe walking through town at night, to not fear either the residents nor the police. I'm sure he wouldn't want people to have to flee their countries because they were under the threat of death just being a little different.

There's enough hate in this world without people sending out more hate to people who are already under enough stress as it is. And I do wonder how the people who spread this hate would feel if they were a practicing Christian in a country that bans Christianity? Oh yeah, it's still happening. There are places where you can be executed for being Christian, places where your opinions on gay marriage, or transsexuals, or the poor would be insignificant when you're wondering if you'll survive the day. I wonder how they'd feel then.

I'm thankful that I have a family who teaches peace, love and tolerance. A family who'd told me that they couldn't care less about who I date, just as long as I love them. A family who support and love others no matter what their faith, race, sexuality or gender. Surely they are the true definition of what a Christian person should be?

Much love, peace and hope to you all,
The tattooed, denim-mix wearing caffeinate novelist who occasionally looks like her hair has been styled into a bowl cut.  

An Open Letter to Dave Mustaine

~ Everyone's entitled to their own opinion, and, as Dave is entitled to his, so I'm entitled to mine. What I've read has touched me and I wanted to write something about it.~

A lie can be halfway round the world before the truth has got its boots on.
James Callaghan

 
Sources listed at bottom of page.


Dear Dave Mustaine,

I respect that you have a right to an opinion. I also respect that you've always been outspoken and, in the past, you've come out with some real pearls of wisdom.

However, lately you've been taking it too far. Not only have you made homophobic comments, you've also made transphobic comments. As a celebrity and someone people look up to, you're pretty much advocating the abuse of people who don't fall into line with your view of the world. LGBT people are already marginalised. They're already abused and murdered because of who they are. They don't need someone who's supposedly anti-establishment adding fuel to the fire. They don't need impressionable people listening to what you say and thinking it's okay to go and beat up someone because they're gay or because they're going through the horrors of a sex change. Have you even researched what it's like to be a transgender person? They're not cross-dressers, Dave. It's far, far deeper and more complicated than that. Have you thought about sitting down with these people and actually finding out what makes them tick?

How would you feel if it were one of your own kids? How would you feel if one of your kids was a little different to everyone else and someone came out with the comments you've been voicing recently? I'm sure that you would feel your blood running hot and, as someone who is, more often than not, outspoken, I'm sure you'd say something.

How do you think the people you're talking about feel? Do you care that you've probably marginalised some of your fan base?

I know what you've said isn't as bad as what others have said. But you have to look at it this way; you're someone of power. People take what you say seriously. Your words reach millions of people. And, in this day and age of the internet, they spread far faster than even you can imagine. See the James Callaghan quote at the top of this page. Once it's out there, it's very difficult to retract, especially in our age of lightening fast communication.

I'm not going to lie, Dave. Ignoring what you've said and done in the past, you've been an inspiration on how to drag yourself from the gutter and to the stars. You've created some of the greatest metal of my generation. But you also have the power to impress young minds. What would you prefer to impress them with; the power to create great music, or the power to create more hate in a world that already has enough of it?

Take care and may peace, love and hope be with you.


SOURCES:

I’m almost positive they’re trying to have the opposite effect. It’s not just in the schools. There are a lot of people being persecuted for what they believe in. There was that girl who was fired from a Macy’s in Texas because she didn’t let some cross-dressing dude into the woman’s dressing room. Come on! Are you out of your mind, Macy’s?
I think she was transgender, not a cross-dresser.
That’s not my point.
There’s a pretty big difference. And if we want to talk about persecution …
All I know is, if my wife walked in there and some transgender dude in a dress walked out, I would beat his ass.
Her ass.
What?
You mean her ass.
The dude in the dress?
http://read.mtvhive.com/2011/12/19/dave-mustaine-interview/

When asked if he supports gay marriage, Mustaine said, "Well, since I'm not gay, the answer to that would be no." Dave was then questioned if he would support legislation to make marriage between a man and another man legal. He replied, "I'm Christian. The answer to that would be no."
http://legacy.roadrunnerrecords.com/blabbermouth.net/news.aspx?mode=Article&newsitemID=169975

Follow up to this post here: Dear Dave, Let's Sort It Over A Good Cup Of Tea

Month of Letters

February become the month of letters. A great little project which encourages us not just to slow down and enjoy the company of others but utilise the often unappreciated postal system.

I'm already a huge letter writer. I love sending and receiving things through the post so I thought I'd try and keep a log of everything I send in February. You're more than welcome to join in (even though I know we're a few days into February. But who's counting? It's the thought that counts. :) ). You can find the information at:

Month of Letters

Feel free to keep a record of what you send and post it up. Let's make the world a better place, one letter at a time!

February 2012

1st - Letter to a friend in America
2nd - Letter to a friend in the UK
3rd - Card to my sister in London
4th - Package of goodies to a friend in Greece
5th and 6th - Package to a friend in the UK and a letter to a friend in Ireland
7th - Letter to a friend in Australia
8th - Card to a friend in the UK
9th -
10th -
11th -
12th -
13th -
14th -
15th -
16th -
17th -
18th -
19th -
20th -
21st -
22nd -
23rd -
24th -
25th -
26th -
27th -
28th -
29th -

Friendship House; Members Only - NSFW!!

Night clasped the city in her grasp, casting out her demonic mist to further hamper the paths of any travellers. The light of hissing gas lamps cast strange, ethereal orbs in the fog and the sounds of the city were dulled almost to nothing.

Cursing quietly, Billy stumbled over the uneven cobbles of the Darker Quarter, regaining his balance before bones connected with the unforgiving road. In its usual disarray, it was the area the local government had chosen to forget about, instead letting fall into ruin. Not even the City Guard dared to walk its paths, choosing instead to let the local inhabitants deal with any disputes.

Muttering to himself, Cedo could only just make out the shadow of his mate ambling through the misty streets. His fingers grazed a wall, trailing through grime and moss. It almost felt as if it were alive, waiting to slither to life and pull him to his doom.

“Billy!” His voice were muffled by the mist. “Just where in Inferno are you taking me?”

Through the wisps of fog, Billy chuckled, a low and husky sound. “You'll see when we get there. Trust me, you're goin' to love it.”

“Well, how much farther do we have to walk?”

“Not far. Just keep your 'and on the wall an', when you feel an iron 'and twistin' out of it, we're there.”

Shaking his head, Cedo did as he was told, fingers trailing over the slick, mossy bricks. Unlike Billy, he was not accustomed to the Darker Quarter and never felt completely safe. Nothing had ever happened to him, but it was only a matter of time before someone, or something, stole him away. He could almost feel the eyes of his Master boring into him from the roofs above, the demon of death come to claim him once more.

“Nearly there...” Billy's voice tumbled off the brickwork.

Placing his hand flat to the wall, Cedo felt the cool ironwork, dampened by the mist. His fingers slid over a strong wrist and to a clasped hand. It held something in its metallic grip. Peering through the murk, Cedo read the words of the plaque that dangled from its fingers.

Welcome to Friendship House.

Members Only.

He arched an eyebrow and glanced to the cloud of fog that wrapped around him. From it, Billy emerged, his face lit by the gas lamp that swung above the door of the tall house. A grin was etched into his face, his eyes darkened by shadows.

“What is this place?”

Billy did not say a word, just took his hand and lead him up the steps.

The door swung inwards as his mate knocked and they stepped into an unlit hallway. A cloaked figure, the hood pulled up over their head, swept towards them, a lamp gracefully held before them. Cedo felt his skin prickle at the unusual atmosphere. Despite its size, the house was strangely quiet. Yet there was a warmth to it that he could not identify.

The figure swung the hood from their head, revealing a tall, ghostly looking woman. Her face was pale, her lips painted a deep red. One corner of her mouth twitched upwards.

“Mr Burton,” her voice was soft and lilting. “It is a long time since you last graced my house with your presence. May I inquire as to your absence.”

“I've been away, fightin' the Dynastians. Took me a while to get back.”

“Ah.” She gave a small nod. “I have heard that they are coming to our shores. And whom, may I ask, is your friend?”

Billy's hand curled around his wrist, drawing him closer. He could not take his eyes from the woman. She was captivating in a strange way, unlike any he had previously met.

“This is Cedo. Nicked 'im for the night from 'is Master. Boy needs to get out more.”

She stepped to one side and gestured towards a closed door. “Well, you know your way around Mr Burton. You enjoy your evening.”

Strong fingers slid from his wrist and to his hand. In the low light, Billy smiled at him before leaning in, lips brushing his ear.

“You'll be fine. Just follow me.”

The hallway was narrow and claustrophobic and Cedo was when they stepped through the door.

Beyond it was a darkened room, a few candles dangling from a chandelier in the high ceiling. As his eyes adjusted, Cedo noticed that the room was devoid of furniture. Instead, it was filled with overstuffed cushions, upon which several couples embraced. A chill ran through him as he watched them writhe, limbs tangled together. Yet none of them turned to see who had stepped through the door, in the same way that they were only interested in their partner.

Grabbing his wrist, Billy gently guided him to a corner, settling them both on the cushions. Cedo could feel his heart racing, thundering against his chest.

Leaning into Billy, he whispered, “What is this place?”

A hand stroked over his hair, twisting it around fingers before tucking it behind his ear. “This is the friendship house,” he softly replied. “Just relax, okay? All will be revealed.”

Gazing into a face he could not read, Cedo allowed himself to be pulled upright. One arm wrapped tightly around his waist while the other brushed hair from his eyes. Trembling beneath the touches, he arched his back and strained to press his lips to Billy's. Softly he sighed as they kissed, lips barely touching, tips of tongues gently exploring. Jolts of pleasure coursed through him, thingling over his skin and lighting passionate fires. Never had he craved the touch of another so much. Never had he wanted them to teach him as much as he did Billy.

The dark room melted away, leaving them to wrap themselves in each other, the cloying scent of incense mixing with the heavy scent of what was to come. Still locked in the passionate embrace, they stretched over the cushions, letting the deep ravines hide them from all who wanted to pry into their private world. Their kisses became eager, lips chapping, each gasping and sighing. Limbs wound around one another, tugging on hair and sliding over the slender lines of their bodies.

Pulling away, Billy relieved himself of his coat and, in the dim light, Cedo could make out the lust that lay over his face. His mate had became serene, movements slow and flowing as he encouraged Cedo from his patched and aging frock coat. Tossing it to one side, Cedo returned to the warmth of the cushions, his clothes becoming a burden. They clung to him with a film of sweat, the heavy wishbone necklace weighing him down. Now he was enslaved to another, eager to please the whims of both his Master and Billy.

Gently his head was tilted and warm lips gently suckled his flesh, fingers creeping over his chest. Sighing, Cedo dropped his hand to Billy's head, stroking over thick waves of hair. Teeth nipped at his throat, marking and bruising him, but he did not care. Billy could mark him all he wanted. His only regret was that, come sunrise, the bruises would barely be visible. Just as Erus had placed the necklace upon him, Cedo longed for a more permanent symbol of Billy's affection.

In the darkness, Billy began to pick at his shirt, carefully undoing the buttons before exposing his chest. Taking deep, ragged breaths, Cedo could only watch as his mate moved lower, lips and tongue tracing the lines of his body. Hair settled over his skin, tongue lapping at his collarbone. Stifling a groan, Cedo arched his back as a nipple was sucked into the warm, welcoming mouth. A hot lust screamed through him and he grasped at Billy, tugging his head up. Baring his teeth, Cedo growled. Billy just chuckled and shook his head.

Lying over Cedo, he kissed the marks on his throat. “Calm down. This ain't a race, you know. Just lie back an' enjoy.”

The rough fabric of his trousers only goaded his arousal, his cock painfully hard. Groaning softly, he allowed Billy to continue his gentle kisses, his flesh tingling beneath his lover's lips. Finally, just as he thought the torture would carry on all night, Billy shifted and lay back beside him, arms pulling Cedo back to him. Wrapping a leg around Billy's waist, he hungrily kissed him, gasping and mewling as he rubbed himself against his mate. In the same way that Billy had, Cedo pushed him back until he was sprawled over the cushions, hair a stark white against the darkness. His lips were parted, eyes staring up at Cedo and he lifted his hands to stroke along his jaw. Closing his eyes, Cedo leaned into the touch, feeling the roughly calloused fingertips scratching at his skin.

“Kiss me,” Billy hissed. “Kiss me like you mean it.”

Cedo felt himself smile and lowered his head to nip at Billy's throat. Beneath his lips, the supple flesh was sheened with a light film of salty sweat. Hungrily he lapped at it, swallowing and savouring the taste of his friend.

Wrapping his tongue around the shell of Billy's ear, he whispered, “I always kiss you like I mean it. Never have I not meant it.”

Trailing his tongue along the strong jaw, he pressed his lips back to Billy's. Beneath him, his mate groaned, hands coming up to hold his head just as Cedo had held his. Straddling his lover's hips, he swayed, drunk on the excitement that coursed through him. Leaning forward, he pressed their still clothed erections together, snarling as Billy bucked beneath him. It was an agony of the greatest kind and, as slow as the coming of winter, he peeled away the thin material of Billy's shirt. With his mouth watering, Cedo attacked the expanse of golden skin, lips and tongue sucking and licking, taking in the swell of muscle and the dip of his stomach. Touching the tip of his tongue to a budded nipples, he gently pulled it into his mouth, sucking as he listened to Billy groan. Teasing Billy's trousers down to his hips, Cedo glanced up to him, his tongue tracing the line of his pelvis.

Above him, Billy was sprawled over the makeshift bed, head back and hands bunched into the satiny fabric. He groaned as Cedo nipped at his flesh, a hand unwinding and guiding him back to lie beside him. One hand cradled the back of his head, forcing Cedo to look into his shadowy eyes. A howl ripped from his throat as the other was pushed into his trousers, fingers wrapping around his cock. For a moment, they just held him, tightening and loosening before slowly, teasingly beginning to stroke.

Carefully he followed, shivering as he wrapped his own fingers around Billy's thick shaft. They stared at each other, hands mercilessly teasing the other, saliva slicked skin sliding together. The pace picked up and slowed down, breath coming in shaking pants as they rocked their hips into the others hand. A rough thumb slid over the head of his cock, smearing warm fluid along his shaft, making Cedo nearly cry. The pleasure was building to a painful level, the need for release threatening to choke him. But each time he felt he would come, Billy cruelly stopped, kissing him as his hand hung limp around Cedo's cock.

Mirroring his lover's movements, he watched as Billy changed, face contorted before relaxing only to spasm a moment later as he slowly began to stroke. Sweeping his thumb over the slick head, he felt Billy buck into his hand, murmuring a quiet plea for release.

Resting his head in the crook of his lover's neck, Cedo whispered, “I shall give you release if you give me the same.”

Beneath his forehead, Cedo felt him nod. Pausing for what felt like an age, he gently began to stroke, Billy's cock throbbing against his fingers. Cedo could feel his own doing the same, Billy's fingers ghosting over veins and warm flesh. Doing his best not to make a noise, he buried his face in Billy's shoulder, quietly muttering and pleading.

It came in a flash, his body shaking and the sticky warm soaking his stomach, just as Billy came in his hand. They lay, hands still wrapped around the other, their hips bucking as they spent themselves. Billy's lips were pressed to his hair, muttering quiet words of thanks.

Regretfully he drew his hand from Billy's clothing, looking at the pearlescent semen that coated his fingers. Grinning, he wriggled from Billy's grip and sat on his stomach, winding his tongue around his fingers. Deftly Cedo cleaned them, delighting in the taste of his lover. Once he was finished, Billy offered him his own soaked hand, letting Cedo taste himself.

When he was done, Billy laid his hands at Cedo's waist and pulled him down. “There are more rooms. You want to go an' sample another?”

In the candlelight, Cedo saw him wink. Glancing over his shoulder, Cedo saw another closed door and smirk twisted his lips. Sliding from Billy's lap, he swept up his coat and walked towards it.

~~~

Cedo and Billy feature in the Veetu Industries series. Book 1, Mars On The Rise, which is now available in ebook form from Torquere Press.
Print books are available from Amazon and The Book Depository.

Welcome to Svenfur (Part 2)

The second, and final, part. Enjoy and thank you for reading! Do not be afraid but just behind you, to your left, is the seedy area of the city. Our advice is to not go there after dark, not even for the houses of ill repute. As an unfamiliar face, you will be prime pickings for the thieves, pimps, whores and other undesirables who roam the narrow, ill lit streets. The shadows of Sea View don't so much breathe as crawl and eat all that is in their path. You enter those streets at your own peril and, if you live, you dare not tell the tale. In the Darker Quarter, even candle flames die quietly.

Beyond that, above the wide road known as Parson's Way, is the slightly more upmarket area of Whitmoore. Here are a jumble of lodging houses, small hotels and shops that do not know what the are. Junk shops, for use of a better name, with windows and shelves crowded with clothes, books, pots and items for those who have come to create whatever lives in their heads. The buildings of Whitmoore are far prouder than those of Sea View; bigger and painted in an array of gentle colours. It is here, nestled among these buildings that you will find a park. It is a welcome breathing space, ageing trees stretching towards the sun, welcoming the casual visitor to doze beneath their boughs or to dip their toes into the cool waters of the great iron and stone fountain that stands in the heart of the park. During the welcome weeks of summer you will be hard pressed not to smile at the joyful cries of children and the sing-song voices of the hawkers selling fruity ices or toys of the latest inventions. You might even see a white cat chasing a tiny metal walker along a path.

Across the West Road, to the right of Whitmoor, is the area known as Antonovo. The peaceful squares are lined with large, white-washed regency houses. Gates close them off from the world and servants silently roam the hallways, doing the bidding of their masters and mistresses. A railing clad park strands in their heart of each of these squares, mature trees stretching years old branches over carefully tended grass. If you are lucky enough to be invited to Antonovo, enjoy it as you are one of the chosen few to enjoy the decadence that exists behind the closed doors.

Below Antonovo, and facing the sea, is Hinckledon. The more upmarket sister to Sea View, it is where the rich come to play once they have finished at the pier. Hinckledon is home to those who cannot afford Antonovo but have enough to not live in Whitmoore. Artists, actors and the established stars of the theatres and song halls all live in the closely built gabled and pastel coloured houses. The narrow streets and lanes which wind across the city and through Hinckledon are packed with small boutiques and shops selling everything imaginable and a fair few thing you would never imagine. Whether you need them or not is another matter.

2012 was AMAZING!

Thanks to Dan over at Single Dad Laughing for this idea! No, you haven't slept through a whole year (although it's tempting at the moment!). You're reading a post as if it's already happened. Go on, are you brave enough to put down your hopes and dreams for 2012?!

2012 was INCREDIBLE!!

Where to start?

"Mars On The Rise" was a huge global success. It put me in the place I wanted to be, the place where I could be financially secure through my art, the place where I could travel, see the world and meet the awesome people who helped me. Book 2 is already out and Book 3 should be on shelves soon. The series has had several bidders for various merchandising deals, including a band wanting to create a concept album around it. The film I had to put the brakes on has been picked up again and has started shooting. The subject is a real sweetheart and I've got a feeling we're going to be friends for a very long time. The other film is also in production and, while wandering around the globe, lots of us have met up and put our thoughts about pen-palling onto film.

I made good on my promise and now I'm working with other artists and getting them to where they want to be. I'm also helping out with several charities, including LGBT and anti-bullying ones.

Physically I'm fine but I've managed to lose the few extra pounds I need to and can finally fit into clothes that I really like.

For the past few months, I've been dating a wonderful guy. He's sweet, funny and accepts me for who I am, warts an' all. We share a lot of the same tastes in things but, at the same time, we've introduced each other to things we wouldn't normally have done. And we have fun doing it! We have our differences, but who doesn't. We're very much in love and that's all that matters.

Thank you to all the wonderful people who've made 2012 an awesome year! You're all wonderful and I love you all!

I'm a great believer in positive thinking making things happen. And heck, the world could use a little more positivity, right?!

Happy 2012! How's Your Brain Feeling Today?!

Welcome to the first day of a brand new year! Hopefully you had a fantastic evening. :) While you're here, how about trying out our Victorian era quiz. Answers are available. Just email waking_the_dead (at) yahoo.co.uk (replace the (at) with @) with the subject heading "Quiz Answers, Please!"

Enjoy!


1. What body part was it considered risqué for women to show?
2. What form favourite Christmas day table entertainment was invented in the 1840's?
3. Which author wrote under a male pseudonym?
4. In the 1830's, which, now popular, form of capturing the world was invented?
5. Tiny Tim is a character from which novel?
6. Queen Victoria came to the throne in what year?
7. The following lyrics are from which early 1900's music hall song?
"Talk about the shade of the sheltering palm
Praise the bamboo tree
with it's wide spreading charm,
There's a little nook
down near old Hampstead Town"
8. In 1863, the first London Underground line opened. What was it called?
9. The Penny Black was the first what?
10. The Pirates of Penzance and H.M.S Pinafore were written by which theatrical partnership?