Getting Proustian With…CHEVOQUE – The Interview Series

What happens
when two dirty-minded girls
pass each other
– in the virtual sense –
in the night?

Most likely
they click
share some dirty stories
read each other’s stuff
trade interviews
and love up on each other
in that way Indie Authors
love to do

That’s Chevoque and me

Chevoque

I read her interview on Write Bitches and kind of fell for her
she read Dutch and kind of fell for me
and that’s it

love
laughs
– dirty ones of course –
friends

So check her out as she gets a little Proustian With It


Getting Proustian With…

Chevoque

1. What is your idea of perfect happiness? A sanctuary; a huge farm with a river and, if I can get my way, a beach also close by.  There must be a lot of animals; farm animals and pets who are in need of a sanctuary.  That sounds a little like ‘heaven’ to me.

2. What is your greatest fear? Not having the time I need to do all the things I want to and not achieving my goals before saying goodbye to this world.

3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? I prefer being alone and while I love it this way, I feel like I’ve missed and am missing things – what exactly I’m not sure yet – in life that once I’m older, I’ll regret it.

4. What is the trait you most deplore in others? Sticking with the old way.  To explain; I don’t believe that we should always do the same things due to tradition and culture.  Time changes and we should do the same.  As with the adapt or die concept, (at least you won’t die) I believe times are different and in regard to race, sexuality and so forth, we can’t live by the way our ancestors had, because to me it is a primitive way of thinking.

5. Which living person do you most admire? There are many and they are all equal to me.  My parents; for what they taught me.  My dogs; for how they love me.  My partner; how he sees me like no one else.  My friends; for how they support me.

6. What is your current state of mind? Content.

7. What do you consider the most overrated virtue? Patience.  I am not talking about waiting for the pizza type stuff, but when it comes to bigger things.  Like if I had worked hard on something, I wanna see the ‘results’ almost immediately, even though I know that isn’t how the world works.

8. On what occasion do you lie? When not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings, when they don’t need another person to remind them of it.

9. What do you most dislike about your appearance? Nothing, it is who I am and if someone else has a problem, that is their issue.

10. Which living person do you most despise? No one, my enemies are in books, games, movies and TV series.

11. What is the quality you most like in a man? Honesty, acceptance and tolerance.

12. What is the quality you most like in a woman? Honesty, acceptance and tolerance.

13. Which words or phrases do you most overuse? ‘Ag, shame’, but based on the South African use.  I use it; when I find out someone’s in the hospital, when my dog does something cute, when I’m being sarcastic and whenever else it seems suited.  It is maybe a South African thing though…

14. What or who is the greatest love of your life? Music.  I’m a self-professed music addict and I can’t go a day without it.

15. When and where were you happiest? Many memories pop up, but I am happy with where I am now in my life.

16. Which talent would you most like to have? To pitch perfectly when I sing; be it clean or unclean vocals, I always sing along and I don’t care how I sound, but as a favour to those who hear me, I’d like to sound a little better for their sake.

17. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? To focus on one thing at a time; my mind is all over the place.

18. What do you consider your greatest achievement? My BSc. Environmental and Biological Sciences I hope to never use, because I was aiming for tree hugger and it wasn’t all that, but I actually got something to show for years of working my bum off.

19. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be? I love the idea of reincarnation, but I think once on this planet would be time enough.

20. Where would you most like to live? I love South Africa, so I’ll pick it every time, but I would be so glad to see our people taken care of the way Madiba wished for it.

21. What is your most treasured possession? Not that I’d ever claim possession over any animal, but my two furry babies, Chloé and Zoey, are my everything.

22. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Losing hope.

23. What is your favorite occupation? Being an author.

24. What is your most marked characteristic? Compassion for all animals.

25. What do you most value in your friends? Tolerance.

26. Who are your favorite writers? There are too many great minds to only pick a few.  Any person who writes their heart out and can grip readers’ imaginations is awesome.

27. Which historical figure do you most identify with? I suppose Charles Darwin, he was someone who thought differently and people might not always agree with what he said, but there is a great lesson I learned from it.  Just because you don’t see the world and believe in things the way others around you does, doesn’t mean what you believe in is wrong.

28. Who are your heroes in real life? Anyone who stands up for what they believe in.

29. What are your favorite names? I love Chevoque and Zanandie.  While I am using Chevoque as my penname, both were one of the names my mum was looking at to name me, so it just works.

30. What is it that you most dislike? Intolerance.

31. What is your greatest regret? None thus far, but maybe in a few year I will screw up something, so ask me then.

32. How would you like to die? I would like not to die, but I suppose passing in a peaceful sleep, after I’ve done most of what I wanted to, knowing I had actually lived a life with few regrets, would be neat.

33. What is your motto? Different doesn’t mean broken.


11223360_10203248813576019_2343463358324441707_o

Rochelle de Beer was born on 15 May 1992 in Klerksdorp, South Africa, and as an only child, the world seemed like a lonely place, until she set her mind free and got lost in the worlds she created herself. Her writing started at a young age and with numerous stories still waiting to be released from her mind, only time now seems to hold her back. She also has a degree in BSc. Environmental and Biological Sciences, because she’s a tree hugging animal lover, who hopes to never use her degree to cause cruelty.

You can find her all over the inter webs:
Amazon: Chevoque
Amazon Reviews: Chevoque
Facebook page: Chevoque
Goodreads: Chevoque
Google+: Chevoqu de Beer
Instagram: Chevoque
LinkedIn: Rochelle ‘Chevoque’ de Beer
Pinterest: Chevoque
Shelfari: Chevoque
Twitter: @Chevoque
Tumbler: Chevoque
YouTube: Chevoque

Advertisements

#WednesdayFreeWrite – VANITY

modern-cottage-master-bathroom

VANITY

I run my fingers along the wall
tracing imaginary meaningless shapes
as I make my way upstairs
this new home still such a stranger

I’m unattached to much of my surroundings
having never been the type
to get caught up in the
who
what
where
when
and most definitely not the why

Which explains how I landed here
in the first place

“I love it,” he said
sounding more like a woman
than I ever could.

“It’s cool,” I replied
unable to share his enthusiasm
but willing to indulge his need.

“Let’s do it,” he glanced my way
touched the inside of my wrist
just so
grazed his full lips
along the curve of my neck.
and I was sold.

Fucking horny slut.
Goddamned sexy bastard.

Now I was here
in all this space
amongst all these people
living this life
of absurd privilege.

Dinner parties
Networking events
Charity functions
Weekday drinks
Sunday champagne
Swim clubs
Lawn clubs
Yacht clubs

Fucking horny slut.
Goddamned sexy bastard.

I grinned to myself
as I reached the top of the stairs
making my way to the most random place in the house
to call my own
despite his good intentions

“It’s all yours,” he led me into the space
and smiled
because he knew I loved windows
and sunlight
and woods
“your own office.”

I kissed him
open-mouthed and deep
eliciting a groan
so masculine and full of desire
as my hands touched all his places
and I fucked him on that desk
and I never once looked around that office.

But this bathroom
with its picture window
and views of the city
its free-standing tub
and open-air shower
its heated tiles
that massage my tired feet
its earthen tones
that calm my frantic mind
its vanity
of stunning design
a piece of art
in a room designed by an artist
this bathroom is MINE.

And he knows it
so he stays away
allowing me to linger in the mirror
after i step from the shower
naked
fresh
wet
and stand at that vanity
going through the motions
of preparing myself
for whatever bourgeoise exercise in the bizarre
we have planned.

Except tonight is different.

He’s waiting in the doorway
a smirk curving those full lips
those brown tatted arms
of muscle and sinew
crossed loosely
relaxed
as he watches me
at the vanity
one
two
three
four beats
before he steps into the room
his heat
stealing my chill
and wrapping me in all kinds of sexy

“This is my room,” I close my eyes and hiss
as his hands slip between my thighs
and his lips leave wet heat along my shoulder
and he laughs
the sound low and full of sex
and I know I’m going to share my room with that gorgeous motherfucker
because I just cannot help myself

“Get up on the vanity,” he commands
as he turns me around
hands on my ass
and lifts
because he knows
just how I like it
and he knows
just how I want it
and he fucks me
hard and fast
dirty and raw
until we’re nothing but a
seamless
boneless
useless
puddle of each other’s
sweat
tears
come
and we’re closer in those seconds
than any other time of our togetherness.

Fucking horny slut.
Goddamned sexy bastard.

“This is still my room,” I smile the wicked smile of the sated
my eyes closed
enjoying our post-fuck quiet
as he kisses me and grins
“It is most definitely your room, sexy,” he whispers in my ear
his warm breath doing things to me
“but this vanity right here,
it’s got my name written all over it.”

Fucking horny slut.
Goddamned sexy bastard.


My #WednesdayFreeWrite series is based on what I write during the 10 minutes allotted my writing group’s Wednesday Prompt. As always, these pieces are works of fiction, erupting from my incredibly over-active imagination. They are unedited and unscripted, super loose and probably my favorite ten minutes of the week, so please be patient with the less-than-perfect and the not-quite-ready. They’re perfect in their imperfections and I hope you enjoy.

Screen Shot 2015-05-10 at 9.38.05 PM

#Poesia – Fuck Adulting

iStock_000013771292Small

FUCK ADULTING

A note to my sixteen year old self
that hyped-up being
full of wonder and angst
passion and enthusiasm
mind-boggling naiveté

Trust me, Georgia peach

Fuck adulting
it sucks

I know your Duran Duran-loving ass
isn’t going to listen to a word I have to say
because you believe
wholeheartedly
by age twenty-five you’ll live in a huge Soho loft
have fabulous friends
and date sinfully gorgeous boys
because you’re just that damned special

But trust me, little girl

Fuck adulting
it sucks

I know your pompous
self-righteous
too fucking smart for your own good
Barnard ass
is eager to graduate
because there’s a bigger world beyond those gates
just waiting to embrace you
and celebrate you
and hear you roar in all your fierce womanhood.

But trust me, Seven Sister

Fuck adulting
it sucks

I know being unemployed hurts
and parental threats loom
and suddenly there is law school
and stifling conservatism
and the Socratic Method
But slow down, hot stuff
just for a second
and smell the torts
revel in the hearsay
estop yourself
because the job market is weak
and ain’t nothing sexy about
billable hours and face-time

So trust me, masalamama

Fuck adulting
it sucks

It’s freedom
sure
but it’s also
financial burdens
obligations
family strife
debt
savings accounts
jobs
mortgages
long nights
too-short vacations
heartache
car notes
renovations
PTA
not enough me-time
suburbs
little league
lawyering
too much job
not enough writing
stress
stress
stress

So yeah
like I was saying

Trust me

Fuck adulting
it sucks.


Okay, I feel much better now. I needed to get that rant off my little chest and out into the ether and I can now breathe easy and go do some yoga and just chill the fuck out. I’m having one of those moments and this ranty poem sprang from the clusterfuck that is my current state of being.

But don’t be fooled – just because I’m feeling kind of calm and somewhat zen doesn’t mean I take back a word of what I said.

Fuck adulting. It sucks.

Screen Shot 2015-05-10 at 9.38.05 PM

#BookReview – THE MANY LIVES OF RUBY IYER by Laxmi Hariharan

Laxmi3bookcover

YA Dystopia
Published November 2014


Laxmi Hariharan’s RUBY IYER opens with a note from the author that struck a chord and stayed with me throughout my reading of her action-packed, thrilling dystopia.

I wanted to be economically independent. So, everyday I would leave the relative safety of home, knowing that my commute to work was going to be nightmarish. It’s just how public transport is in this city. When you get on a crowded local train platform, you accept that you are probably going to be felt up. Every time this happened to me, I would get really angry. But, I would deal with it and get on. So, when a young photojournalist was raped in the centre of Bombay in broad daylight, I was furious. 

It was as if nothing had changed in all the years I had been away. Then, I had a vision of this young girl who would not back down anymore, who would stand up for herself regardless of the consequences. Who would follow her heart… Thus Ruby Iyer was born.

I love this note – it’s a feminist call-to-arms and every time I read it, like right now as I typed it into this post, I feel angry and disgusted for all those women in India getting groped by those men – as a kid, I remember walking through the Chennai airport with my mom, when a man approached and grabbed her breasts…because he could – and then empowered by Laxmi’s vision of Ruby Iyer and her take-no-prisoners, suffer-no-fools attitude.

Which is all a long-winded way of saying Laxmi sucked me into her tale of a badass girl, a sexy rogue cop, and a crumbling city from the very first word. And boy, am I glad I took a little time away from my writing to get lost in Ruby’s world because the adventure was exciting and thrilling and read like an action-packed Bollywood film that all of us would stand in line for and pay good money to see.

But I must say, just as enthralling as the action and adventure, the characters and the danger, is Laxmi’s writing; her ability to make you touch and taste, smell and hear her city is spellbinding. I found myself closing my eyes and letting her descriptions really get into my bones, deep down and dirty, and felt Bombay, that grimy, throbbing, smelly, loud city of never-ending energy right along with her. It’s escapist to the extreme and even if you’re not a fan of YA or dystopia, you should read RUBY IYER just to lose yourself in Laxmi’s descriptions.

The world created by Laxmi is fast-paced, full of righteous anger, and so well-written, you close the book only wanting more. More Ruby, more Vikram – please, Laxmi! more Vikram – and more of those delicious, delectable descriptions of a city on the verge of collapse and a girl on the verge of greatness.

Rock on with your bad self, Laxmi, and keep writing because I can’t wait to see what’s next. And if you haven’t done so already, grab a copy of RUBY IYER by clicking HERE.

Happy reading, bitches.

Screen Shot 2015-05-10 at 9.38.05 PM

 

#BookReview – EVERYTHING SHE NEVER WANTED by Tasha L. Harrison

25559024

Erotic Romance

published May 2015


Tasha L. Harrison packs quite a bit of sexy into EVERYTHING SHE NEVER WANTED, book two of The Lust Diaries, including friendship, reruns, threesomes, and old hurts. It’s a lot of ground to cover but she handles the task with the same fresh attitude and dirty sexy mouth I fell for in the first book of The Lust Diaries, IN HER CLOSET.

Back again are writer Yves Santiago and editor Elijah Weinstein, working together on publishing Yves’ new book and testing the limits of their budding relationship, both emotionally and sexually. These two are sexy as ever, but I also found it nerve-wracking to read their exploits this time around, maybe because I “know” them already and fear for their every. bad. move. Because hot damn, they make a million of them.

Tasha did a great job of making me fall in love with Yves in book one, then turned around and made me find her annoying and childish in book two. I’m not sure this was purposeful, but I found the deconstruction of Yves quite impressive. Gone was the smart, brash, ballsy woman I met in book one and in her place was a hesitant, self-conscious, sometimes foolish woman in book two. Interestingly, the regression didn’t make me dislike Yves at all – a testament to Tasha’s writing prowess and stellar character development – but rather, I look forward to book three and the (hopeful) reclamation of Yves’ original self.

And who had a hand in this back-peddling transformation of Yves? Her lover and editor, Elijah, that sexy, smart, BDSM enthusiast who pushes Yves’ limits again and again, oftentimes too far and with unfortunate repercussions.  I’ll admit, his tests of her sexual appetite make for some of the hottest sex scenes in the book – think threesomes, think girl-on-girl – written with Tasha’s skillful, intelligent, filthy hand, but ultimately left me wondering where such risky, impulsive behavior would lead the couple.

Add both Yves’ and Elijah’s old flames to this mix and you just know this won’t end well.

But you know what? When you close the cover on EVERYTHING SHE DIDN’T WANT, you’ll be fiending for book three of The Lust Diaries

Screen Shot 2015-08-24 at 1.36.01 AM

and fuck if that doesn’t end well for Tasha and her sexy book.

Grab your copy of EVERYTHING SHE NEVER WANTED now, read it, and then help me harass Tasha into finishing book three…like yesterday.

Screen Shot 2015-05-10 at 9.38.05 PM

#SundaySnippet – DUTCH, The Keeper Series Book One

dutch-final


SUNDAY SNIPPET

“You never said my name,” he tried to sound casual although his statement was anything but and he knew it and that’s when I knew he had been waiting all night to hear his name cross my lips but it never did and now it was time to part ways.

I bit my lower lip and studied my feet for a second fidgeting under his gaze his need his vulnerability and I considered myself and him and everything I was about to do and I wished I had more time to analyze and proceed with caution but I didn’t because he needed something right then and I had to decide whether I wanted to be the girl to give it to him or tell him to leave me the fuck alone.

“Spread your legs,” I ordered as I moved towards him and gestured, “wider.” And his eyes filled with that feral fear I saw earlier when I came too close for comfort but he did as I said and I moved into the space he created for my body and I made sure not to touch him because I knew I had already gone too far.

“I don’t know what you were trying to accomplish the other night when you gave me that little lecture about touch,” I started nice and slow my voice low just for him, “but you were right, I am the kind of woman a man takes his time with – he touches me everywhere because he wants to possess me leave his mark so to speak and his lips linger on my body and his hands slip between my legs and he kisses my pussy because he wants to and because I love to be touched. And even though you say you don’t want to touch me I know you do I feel it in the heat rolling off you in waves I hear it in your voice I see it right now while I’m talking to you and your dick is fighting to break free of the confines of your jeans.”

“And that,” I glanced down at his crotch and he glanced down and neither of us moved and he didn’t even breathe, “is all right because there is nothing more I want than to touch you I crave it just like you said I would. I want to run my hands up your thighs and press my palm against that fucking huge bulge and listen to you moan while my lips press to your throat and I taste the salt of your sweat. I want to climb into your lap and grind my wet pussy against you and wrap my fingers in your hair and kiss you so deeply you lose your breath. I want you to touch my face and lips and throat and kiss me softly as if I’m delicate and I matter and am not just the girl you slammed into the door and pretended to fuck like a whore. And I want you to whisper in my ear that you have never seen anyone so beautiful and that I feel. so. good.”

“But I know you can’t do those things that they break all of your rules in epic fashion so much that you might never recover from such an encounter, so here’s the deal: I will say your name if you let me touch you.”

He leaned away from me fast and panicked and something wild flashed in his eyes and I almost felt bad for the devil’s deal I offered him but I refused to relent because if he wanted a part of my soul I wanted a part of his. Tit for tat.


dutch-final

Pre-Order Dutch on Amazon from now until its October 12th release date and enter to win a $50 Amazon gift card. Enter your pre-order confirmation number in the comments below and get a chance to win. Re-blog this post, let me know you did, and earn a bonus entry for the giveaway.

Click HERE to order now.

Happy clicking.

Screen Shot 2015-05-10 at 9.38.05 PM