The Raptures of Time, my latest novel from Bold Strokes Books, is coming out this month. In Raptures, my storyteller Mack and his friends explore a geologically impossible cave and emerge lost on another world. In the otherworldly realm of Qysteria, they explore cultures unlike our own with odd traditions and kinky sexual rituals.
The action shifts between the gynocratic customs of Qysteria and the societies of our Earth, past, present, and future. On Qysteria, villagers demand that the guys participate in gay sex rituals or subject them to sex slavery. In between participating in deliriously erotic acts, Mack and his friends must avoid outlandish creatures and a malevolent sorcerer from Earth’s future. While our Earth moves toward the totalitarian patriarchy of the twenty-fifth century, our heroes voyage to the Qysterian island of Absonia where they are dominated by towering island women with enormous phalluses and forced to emasculate themselves with a naturally growing island herb.
Without revealing more of the peculiar and tasty twists this novel takes, I’ll acknowledge that the story raises one obvious question about authorship: do you have to do it in order to write about it?
Does a mystery writer have to be a murderer?
Does a science fiction writer have to be a space alien?
The answer is simple. I’m a writer—I really am making this up. I can write from the perspective of another race or another gender, just as female authors can describe male on male sex or a black male can write about the experience of a white man.
Some writers write close to their own hearts and expose themselves and their relationships. Others write away from themselves. I belong to the second category. I’m not my characters. That first person I, Mack Frost the first person storyteller in this novel, is a voice I’m creating. Writing by the seat of my pants, I let my imagination and the developing characters carry me onward.
In The Raptures of Time, my characters travel through time and space in ways I’ve never done. They engage in oral sex with the hunky men of Tungon Village. They experience anal penetration in the village of Jekor, including getting pegged by women with strap-on dildoes. They are captured by underground troglodytes and held as sex slaves. They are emasculated by gigantic dominatrices, and eventually restored by Mack’s growing superhuman and paranormal powers.
I’m making up the story of The Raptures of Time—I’m a writer. I have done my upmost to give my readers a grand story in outrageous and enchanting detail. Raptures, like all that I write, is pure fiction and glorious invention.