WINTER CAPTIVES – Book Blog, Book Brief & Book Teasers – AUTHOR: J. Z. LUCIANO'S

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FOREWORD

Updated Release – Winter 2025

The Romantic Thriller

“And so, it is…that both the devil and the angelic spirit present us with objects of desire—TO AWAKEN OUR POWER—inwardly…of course!

They call me the Lady Elle. Many people who know me liken me to the quintessential Wild Thing from D.H. Lawrence’s poem:

“I never met a wild thing feeling sorry for itself. A bird will fall frozen from its bough, without ever feeling sorry for itself.” (D.H. Lawrence) I, of course, agree with their assessment wholeheartedly.

This peculiar affair of the heart I have chosen to narrate for myself…

Introduction

I knew in my heart of hearts, that I was both brazen and wrong to have dared him──my billionaire lover and confidant, at that time. Now, former ambassador to Polonia and the EU security council──Dr. Yugo Alexi Strezazenski.

Yes! This I know. But I wanted what I wanted, at that time. Caution, be damned!

However, in my now unfor- giveable defense I believe a part of me deep, within the depths of my dark and hungry spirit I──both needed and wanted to go there (to the dark space carnally)!

That worshiped “sacred feminine” space of, cognitive, and primal ultimate submission! No ifs, ands, or buts. Let’s just call it an “Alpha Female” thing, for now!

Because… bitches like myself only invested our trust in that which we felt we had control. If we hadn’t the control… we pretty damn well had very little trust.

Yet, our adventurous spirits always took over the helm and trajectory, of our lives. Because we loved giving in to it! Very few women have the balls and intellectual mindset to go that deep into their carnal psyche’.

Obviously… I was not one of them, at the time. My courage and cognitive snarky elitism, so to speak, had always been daring. Because I don’t like missing out on sensually mischievous inclinations. Of course, within limits.

After all, it’s called the dark place for a reason. Right? Geeze!

Never hate the players… or the game! As women, these types of attributes take a strong depth of intestinal fortitude. Attributes of which I held in abundance! It was time for me to pursue an outlet….

Though in all honesty perhaps, I was emotionally and optimistically spent in the boyfriend-and-girlfriend department.

Especially, after having given my all to those I loved, with every fiber of my tattered being, literally. Only to have such love unabated, in return: which splintered my soul into rigidly charred fractions.

Yet, something deep within the depths of both my psyche and wounded guts would not let go of the “childish inclination” within me clambering for its last breath of survival. Enthusiasm! Why? I often asked myself, rhetorically. But the answer was so very simple. If you really try to think about it.

Albeit provocative and perversive to outsiders, I had my mother’s strong and stoic spirit for impatience and foolishness. But my father’s cast iron will and determination for adventure.

Also, to live my life out loud, and on my own terms. No matter the cost! It couldn’t be helped. My father drilled these ideologies and strengths of mind, into his daughters. Relentlessly! You gotta love those “Drill Sergeant” types. Their iron will, wisdom, and intestinal fortitude spews over into every aspect of their lives. No bulls shitl!

That said, having evolved into the consummate (father’s daughter) adventurer type, I needed to seek and unleash that voyager alter ego and spirit commanding itself to be released from inside me.

Moreover, my libido needed to feed off a stronger, darker, more carnivorous type of zeal, zest, passion, desire, and primal animal to live that, so called life of pleasure seeking, from its outer edges.

Because let’s be clear and earnest from a wanting woman’s perspective; the ultimate goal was to put out the fire raging ever so wildly upon my robust and wanting loins. I mean… to the point of my inner thighs turning a seething red to white hot…just at the mere thought! My goodness. Thinking back… I was ‘ate the hell up” (military term for fucked up), with primal need. Seeking a remedy, in all truth, was a damn no brainer! Though drastic, such a peculiar and determined mindsets were needed. Because this self- proclaimed Alpha female was on her mission, and my mind was made the hell up. I would move forward, as stealthily as possible, to eradicate the continued buildup of passion and aching need, clamoring within the depths of my sensually haunted soul. And hunted it was.

I reluctantly hate to admit. But damn… my ass was sssooo…needy, well back then. There was no hiding the hurt and pain within me, anymore.

Because it took on a mind of its own, and it slithered itself into every fissure of my life. The situation was just that serious, or rather physically and emotionally dire. Alexi, so I thought, had no idea. But these untold wants, so to speak, were only gonna happen a certain way and manner… my way …and on my own damn terms! Of course, as a total free spirit with my own interpretation of the masculine mindsets. Because, back then, I wanted in on all those private and privileged billionaire boys’ club freedoms and carnal playing fields Alexi and his wealthy playboy sect always played upon, so to speak

After all, we were in a sense all equals professionally, philosophically, and intellectually. Sssooo… why not sensually? Time to level that pleasure playing field.

Shit──women need relief and satisfaction too! Just as men do. I can’t help salivating at the mouth… from the thought. Fact.

Please, let me make it as clarifying as possible…ideologically. Because sensuality is, after all, ideally a “competitive sport” …not for the faint at heart! That said, as an over-achiever and high-flier professionally (work had taken over my love life) ─” I had come a long way from Egypt” … so to speak …no shit. Out of what appeared to be a blinding determination and self-preservation to seek out the type of love and adventure──I so passionately longed for and pursue, for nearly seven long years. Literally!

Moreover, I was fucking over “polite society” elites relaying to me, that as a woman I had certain limitations and societal responsibilities to live up to. Meaning──”I couldn’t allow myself to be privy to such carnal, primal, or provocative indulgences─like those wicked ,wealthy, naughty and sexy ass playboys. Why? Because I was a woman. Obviously, they had no idea as to who or whom they were talking too. I am my father’s daughter! Once I heard this, it only strengthened my zeal for adventure.

What? Because I am a woman…indeed!

Total eye rolling notion.

Talk about raising my dandruff. Safe to iterate that our ideologies were a bit like the “clashing of the titans! I’d never fit in this snarky and snooty crowd, not for all the tea in China. Hence, my reason for relocating to one of the highest points on “Twin Mountain Lakes” reserve and conservation. No doubting I chose the cabin chalet from hell and corner lot, in a good way. To hell with those Buckhead- Atlanta wannabe snubbish sons-of-bitches. Of whom really had no idea of true etiquette and grace. Not all of them… but most.

Though fitting or irrational, facts are facts, they really pissed my ass off, trying to re-make me over in their image. Because I wasn’t about to give fuel nor favor to such utter nonsense. My soul was near a breaking point and needed relief or a remedy. Of──which, I cannot iterate enough.

Early twentieth century etiquettes and ideologies were a total non-starter, to me. Those folks needed to realize that some bitches, in the world, enjoy being tortured by salacious inclinations and impulses. Nothing wrong with owning my own intimate and primal self-truth. Emily Post will simply have to turn a blind eye or turn over in her grave. “Proper manners” and lady-like etiquettes. Indeed!

Don’t try to tell me how to live my life. I was gonna live up to my own expectations… not that of others! Alexi was well aware of this hunger within me, to the point of urging me to accelerate the momentum… to what he deemed as the cognitive and emotional unshackling of myself, mentally and physically to the whims and wills of others. Alexi really despised that Atlanta-Buckhead crowd, just as much. Feeling, they were over the top gregarious and capricious. How utterly ironic──looking back.

Chapter – One

FAIR IS FAIR

Nonetheless, deep down, in my emotional and psychological depths I felt that fair was damn fair, when it came to these peculiar and mercurial playboy types. Plus, as reluctant as I am to state──these gentlemen were fine, potent, and as Alpha male, as they come. Let me be frank and honest, as hell. My ass wanted in on all the benefits and rewards that had eluded myself: along with so many other women, that possessed the same peculiar mindsets all our lives.

Besides, this would be the only way to conquer the ever-deepening loneliness and feelings of utter abandonment that had churned wildly in my gut…for far too long. Wild adventure was the only remedy and cure. All I can iterate or state after that is…what in the hellfire damnation was I thinking???!!!

One thing was for certain… I should have known much better…

Not wanting to beat the proverbial dead-horse to death… I can’t iterate this notion enough…

Unfortunately, or rather imprudently, I willfully and excitingly signed both the NDA and the Cohabitational Agreement between Alexi, Yuri…and myself. Knowing full well what it meant, from a dark mercurial and intimate prospective. As well as what would be required of me, going forward in my relationship with both gentlemen—fiscally, intellectually, spiritually, sensually, and physically. And… in that order! Truth be known─”Christian Gray” would have been green from envy. Those agreements were as powerful and spot on, as they come!

In the interim, as I signed on the bottom-line… my overly pompous ass couldn’t help but snicker and think quietly to myself. Because I knew of three snarky and snooty bitches, who would kill to be sitting were I was. Literally!

Of course, my ass was smirking like hell. Fucking game on! Proper lady-like etiquette…the nerve of those sons-of-bitches was all I could think about. Just the thought of it made me smirk with utter insolence and beguile. Why? Because deep down in places those snarky bitches don’t wish to expose; they would hit the damn “kill switch”; in their own boring relationships, to experience this level of pleasure-seeking and freedom. Hell fire… and damnation!

What a sobering truth──they’d never reveal…at least not openly! Ladies…let’s just call it for what the hell it is. Rachet emancipation!

Because, truth be known, both agreements had all the I’s dotted &T’s crossed. Along with said agreements being ironclad as hell! Fucking…yessss.! A total, woman’s wet dream. Prompting my nectar of the Gods and resonating heat to flow, between my clinching thighs. How funny and extraordinary. Nothing was left to chance or guesswork (very surreal). The interests of all parties involved (Alexi, Yuri, and me), were well satisfied and curated. Making me a goddamn millionaire and ‘heir apparent”, of global significant holdings, bonds and property, in a matter of a few moments.

What in the damnation, or rather fuckety-fuck, was that shit about? I wondered quietly to myself, as my limbs trembled in utter excitement and fear. (Cause no ex-wife in, her right mind, would allow such lustrous and magnanimous gifts to the “other woman so freely. Especially, a vital, viral, and hungry one, like myself.)

Alexi and Yuri (his very close cousin and business partner across the way) were determined and spot-on to insured that they would fully “ready” (military for fully prepared) me, for my trip down that decadently delicious dark and reprobative rabbit hole. Gosh──Alexi and I…sssooo… underestimated that boy’s lust and darkness. Who could have guessed how my life would get turned so upside down, intimately, and emotionally? Yet the darkness is so brazenly and magnetically alluring… No way in hell I could have resisted such frighteningly mind-blowing debauchery with these two roués! Especially, with Yuri’s ass being just as fine, if not sexier, than Alexi’s ass. Talk about a fuckety-fuck fucked up situation.

Albeit right, wrong or indifferent… my mindset was nearly off the proverbial reservation.…

Meaning….

Resistance was too far out of the picture. I had zero control over my willfulness and willingness, towards either gentleman. Alexi, as fate would have it, was well aware of my deficient resilience. Either way… it couldn’t be helped under the present circumstances; both of those boys were overwhelming.

At least, from a wealthy, dark daddies and Alpha male perspective. I didn’t have what it took to flee, not in my former state of mind or philosophical state of being (straight libertine). Having been in the possession of my daring spirit. Fucking curiosity. That son of a bitch always seemed to get the better of us all—me, most assuredly. The best explanation is that we all became the absolute best of dark clandestine intimate-friends and amazing lovers, for the duration of our lives! It would not matter if we were married, divorced, or dating others. Ours was a specialized and unique connection.

Yet, little could our little love-pact have guessed or known, just how perilous the signing of such agreements would be, at the end of it all. We were blinded by impulsive indignations and carnal greed! Never a good or righteous state of being!

Although, driven by necessity or unbridled want from Alexi and Yuri both gentlemen knew exactly what they wanted. This was too daring and delicious, to turn down. There was a special clause in that NDA: which required this obligation. Specifically, the fact that the three of us were nearly salivating at the mouth from excitement… kinda says it all. But, back then, that’s where we were. Out on that dark edge… teetering with such primal peril. Safe to say──we were allied with each other for life. From my perspective and purview──a permanent safety net, both emotionally and intimately.

However, monetarily, Alexi and Yuri both knew… I didn’t need them. My needs were more wanting and hungrier. The dark side of me saw this as, nothing short of…leverage. But don’t think for a minute that a small part of me didn’t turn pseudo back-flips, from the thought of becoming that loved, desired, and wealthy by both gentlemen. Nor was it easy to take this all in at once, and at face-value. Especially, with me being a consummate cynic. Goodness!

Still, I loved Alexi and Yuri… like no other. It could not be helped. Once my benefactors suborned my body and hunger under those Norwegian blue fox fur comforters, our passions scorched the linens like a napalm laden LZ (landing zone). No denying such carnal bliss joined us at the hips forever! In addition, to perpetuating me into utter and total suspended animation, as well. Cause those boys left no stone unturned, intimately.

In other words,──we became lewd as hell, as we fed our dark and carnivorous wanting’s. But, goodness, it was the way we conducted this lude and lustful journey… that blew the hell out of ourminds. Of course, at the end of it all. Yet, in the interim forging a very intimate and dark alliance with that dark sect. Don’t know what the hell we were doing or thinking, at that time. Damn.

Lawdt… go fucking figure…

At the same time, our little love-pact would become privy arbiters of all our deepest and darkest secrets, which was the primary thread of our tightly woven and primal union. In the interim, however, I must iterate without any fear of reproach that I was taken on one daring and fucking fantastic sensual pleasure-seeking journey. I need to re-iterate. It was not only bliss-filled, but absolute sensual enlightenment!

Um talking early twentieth century; Anais Nin; D. H. Lawrence; Georgia Douglas Johnson; Gabrielle Colette; Langstone Hughes; Gwendolyn Brooks; Marjorie K. Rawlings; Arna Bontemps; F. Scott Fitzgerald; Gertrud Stein, and Ernest Hemingway levels of intellectual and sensual enlightenment… just to name a few. Hey… we weren’t spring chickens. Never underestimate the sensual hunger of baby boomers. We act… good… bad… or indifferent.

As for me, there would be no girlfriend conferences or encouragement needed. The closing of the deal has a ticking timer… and we (Alpha female baby boomer types) don’t negotiate… periodt. Consequences are always damned. You only live once. That said… it’s pretty fare to state that we were all headed off that proverbial cliff, with pleasure seeking and primal madness. At that time, we could have given a good goddamn!! Who the hell woulda thunk it, though? Hey, what can I say? Self-proclaimed cognitive elitists are very gregarious and esoteric creatures! We matriculate towards one another, the likes of a “moth to a flame.” No shit!

Albeit, by happenstance or purpose, I’m consummately a commitment-phobic for life beyond any shadow of a doubt by nature, for that matter. (So, I thought). That old soldier in me had made me emotionally tough and resilient. However, love is like history—it evolves, luckily for me. You gotta be a warrior type to understand the meaning and mindset of that. Adventurers! We are wildly curious and daring creatures of what is—what can be—what is missing…as well as what is unknown! Such risky and dangerous pursuits can be both psychologically and emotionally gut-wrenching. Let alone, perilous as fuck! Yet… on the other hand…hhhmmm.

Nonetheless, who could have imagined in their wildest of dreams that the on set of an impending winter storm would re-chart the course of three lives perilously, as well as forever! Put it this way──Our continual quest to seek pleasure, whenever and wherever, brought about magnificent pursuits of carnal and intimate bliss.

However, that same bliss was a very unyielding entity──it refused to be controllable and obedient. It’s permanence in my life simply was not mine… to ever behold! Of course, as with any disobedient animal or ideal it forced me into a very reluctantly personal space──the challenging of my faith, beliefs, and uncontrollable wanting darkness. It was now on!

The reprobative dive into utter bliss, enlightenment, chaos, and utter peril! We never saw it coming.

Chapter Two

As WE SLEPT

Oooohhh… holy shit!

As Georgia’s sons and daughters slept on that infamous Sunday night in February of twenty-fourteen, the second arctic blast spread across Georgia like the seven plagues of Egypt. Bringing with it a type of paranormal omen, many of us mountain folk couldn’t begin to recognize. Seriously, we would end up scrambling for our lives, the likes of 1972’s refugees in Cambodians fighting for a squat on the last plane out to America. Nnnooo…fucking shit! Because Mother Nature’s cold and icy wrath brought with it a type of brutality and insolence, from outside of our normal comfort zones…and ideallyc silos. That second artic blast turned our mountain retreats and carnal sanctuaries into some type of pseudo-Siberia!

Every inch of mountain soil was under attack. Trees were ladened with icicles and nearly three to four inches of snow, while sharp icy knives of nature began to stab and slice our beautiful landscapes, ponds, and rooftops. Onlookers would have sworn a scud missile had gone off, up there. It was just that dire and messy. Especially, with some of those cabins caving into the ground, because of the heavy ice and snow. Reality was setting in on us the likes of a runaway freight train.

Our properties were in dire peril, and we were helpless to do anything to fight back. God… were we more pissed than ever. Mountain folk were everywhere outside attempting to curse the ever-approaching weather peril, but that was to no avail. She was coming with a vengeance and agenda. Leaving nothing short of bewildering destruction and danger, at every possible pass. She (Mother Nature) meant business. By the raising of her hand, that cold icy bitch commanded both ice and snow to begin the offensive assault upon the mountain tops of Georgia, with a type of vigor and vengeance determined to level it! That arctic blast was obedient, as hell.

It fell over our houses, buildings, roads, and waterways. Even our praised and gorgeous peach orchards, with their beautiful white veils of lacy flakes, had the appearance of a wonderful winter wonderland. Yet, underneath all that beauty and grandeur was an unprecedented and unparalleled danger. It was time for us mountain folk, rather we liked it or not, to make haste. But you know that Mother Nature’s ass was impatient, as hell. She needed to make point. Boy did she underestimate the real deal──Governor Deal! He sent the National Guard, State Police, and God knows who else, to empty out those mountain top residents of Georgia. It was not enough, however, to stop Mother Nature’s icy ass wrath.

Regardless, she clearly, underestimated our determination and zeal. Yes, we were some stubborn and tenacious folks. Only this time, we Georgians were prepared to go to war! We would not be snowed in without a fight, especially after that first artic blast catching us off our guard! Literally! Including me. Having to live alone for nine days, during the first artic blast over Georgia. Because the mountain side was just too dangerous to risk attempting to leave, or escape.

My ass was stuck, and terrified… to say the least. Black bears and coyotes… every damn place. (Plenty of guns… but very little ammo. Go, figure!)

Thought my swanky wannabe swanky and snarky G.I. Jane ass would be eaten up, at any moment.

Unfortunately, my chalet was surrounded by three plus fifteen-hundred-foot drop offs into dangerous ravines. What I deemed as my punishment for having such a beautiful, well sought-after corner lot. I both relished and adored those lovely leafy reviews. Ohhhh… they may have looked like a gorgeous and unassuming winter wonderland. But at their bottoms were a type of bloody and perilous death, calling its potential victim by name. Wasn’t about to live through that shit again. The goosebumps dancing upon my arms was all the indication I needed, for that…mentally. No… we had resolved ourselves to stand, deliver, and fight. The good fight… as we mountain folk endearingly love to say and proclaim.

During that infamous night, I had fallen into another one of those deep winter-night trances. This was my way of escaping the world; I cared not to fully see, and to afford myself an opportunity to rejuvenate. My workplace was ridiculously toxic and tense, back then. Imagine, the nerve of corporate execs and types attempting to call it… the “beauty-industry”. Indeed!

But escaping into deep winter night slumbers had become a ritual, of sorts. Deep sleep that is, during those shivering cold starry and wonderous winter nights. Goodness… how I loved to wrap myself in those warm hand-woven wool blankets. I purposely, left hanging by the upstairs fireplace, as I surreptitiously wrapped my naked body one into one of them, before slipping unto my screened in porch. This was just my little naughty thing.

My flesh felt as if it had been wrapped in pure rapture, and the comfort of some sexy gentleman’s brawny and inviting arms. Goodness… yes! Of course, with a mason jug of my neighbors specialized moonshine, or corn whisky. That shit was absolute splendor! Well, it was starry before any snowflakes dared themselves to fall upon my cabin, yet again! Yes, safe to say, I was oblivious to everything going on outside, that infamous night.

Rewrite Coming Winter 2025