This review was no exception.
I want to thank Sally of Queer Magazine Online for not only reading but reviewing HEART OF CHANGE.
Here is part of what she said:
"Deep and sorrowful, Heart of Change is an empowering read that is more about questions than it is about answers. It’s about questioning every aspect of your identity, and about finding the courage to look deep inside yourself, even when the answers you find aren’t necessarily the ones you were seeking. As the title suggest, it’s also a book about changes, the emotions that drive them, and the emotions they elicit in the reader."
"For me, a significant part of the appeal in Heart of Change was the development of Simone’s sexuality. I thought her transition to bisexuality was handled very well, and I had no trouble accepting such a significant change in her lifestyle after 40+ years. I also appreciated the fact that the story ultimately led her to question whether she might really be a lesbian, as opposed to arbitrarily making some bold declaration. We may not be left with the happiest or tidiest of endings, and there are still questions remaining, but it’s a story that comes across as real. When you’re dealing with porn stars, lesbians, and a mid-life crisis, the fact that the characters and choices do come across as ‘real’ is a testament to Roxy’s talents as a storyteller."
And so much more. The entire review can be read here.
YOU CAN BUY AT:
From the Publisher
I love this story...
I love these characters... all of them... which means there is room for future growth, not that I'm promising another long drawn out series, especially since The Chronicles is still ongoing (if for now only in my head)... just saying there could be room for more story to be told at a future date if any of my readers feel as I do that these characters need to tell more of their story...
Blurb:Just who is sleeping with whom?
Love, lust, hate, revenge, heartbreak and triumph abound for four men and five women, experiencing the joys and trials of polyamorous-life, Los Angeles-style. They’re not above wading into each other’s drama, wallowing in each other’s misery, offering unsolicited advice or swapping romantic partners. The sex is hot, the lust hotter and the jealousy scathing in this tale of personal evolution where everyone has a stake in the outcome of who ends up sleeping with whom.
Unapologetic sex in all its forms: M/F, M/M, F/F, bondage, dominance, changing partners, polyamory.
Here's the WHO you won't get anywhere else:
Bianca, otherwise known as Mistress Bee
Jameson, Bianca's number one snuggle, also married to Emma
Emma, Jameson's wife
Adrian, Bianca's number two snuggle
Phelp's, Adrian's ex, available to be anyone's snuggle... and still in love with Adrian
Bishop, the guy who wants to be Bianca's only snuggle Hiroko, Bishop's wife Toby, Adrian's boi (lovers but not in a traditional sense)
But better yet...why Don't I let them introduce themselves?
Here they are, or at least a few of them willing to say a few words...
No one knows me, not anyone. Some days I don’t even think I know myself.
God, I’ve been hiding for so long. Hiding the truth, hiding everything about me. Right now, you think you want to get to know me. Soon, you will want to heal me. Fix me. Trust me, there’s no fixing what broke inside of me. It’s too old, too damaged.
The pain goes too deep.
That’s why I don’t let any of the men in my life love me. I’m unlovable. Is there even such a thing as love? There is like, hate, lust… but love seems to me just a word that is the placeholder for the word not used. Sometimes I love you really means “I hate you.” And sometimes it just means “I want to fuck you.”
See what I mean?
Many men in my life want to fuck me, but they don’t love me. Sometimes I don’t even think they like me…
Once I used to dream of finding love, the real thing, you know? Who knows, maybe, I’m just not holding my breath waiting for it to happen.
Where should I begin? What should I share with you about myself? My name is Adrian Georgiou and I would say that I am all the best my Greek lineage promises. I am a poet, an artist, a lover of women, especially that last part, but I also love men. I don’t call myself bisexual though. If pressed, I will use the term pansexual, because every human, despite their sexual orientation, is loveable, and desirable.
That is why I opened a nightclub that caters to the fetish aligned members of our society. I called it Orgasms and promised to cater to a wide clientele base. We have nights that focus on specific interests, for example: Monday is Latex Night, also ladies night, and if the lady is clad in latex, she drinks free all night; Tuesday is Transgender Night, although clients do not have to be transgender to come on that night; Wednesday is all about the leather, strictly gay men, and Thursday is all about the lace, strictly lesbians; Friday is Fantasy and Uniform night; and weekends are generally a mixed soup orgy.
My business keeps me busy, focused, but that doesn’t mean I neglect my sex life. I especially love two women, Bianca, and Toby. I try to split my free time as equally as I can between the two of them. They balance me and provide a sea of calm in my other was tempestuous life. As far as men, they come, they go, and honestly I can’t see myself as attached to a man as I am to Bianca and Toby, but yes, a part of me has needs that only being with another man can sate.
With Toby, I know where I stand, because we have been together awhile now. With her I know where I stand. She loves me and I know how to love her. I make her feel needed and important. With Bianca, it isn’t that simple, she rarely shares the truth of her emotions with me. Hell, sometimes, I don’t even think we’re sharing the same space. She can be inches away but it feels like miles. I can be kissing her, fucking her, and she isn’t even there. Still, I love her as much as I love Toby.
Trouble is…I think about Johnny Phelps way too much. I miss him…
I am a person. I am not a label. Do not call me female, do not call me male. I am not a lesbian, obviously, right? I have a boyfriend. I am queer. Some would say genderqueer, but I don’t even want that label.
I am me. I am who I am damn it, and if it’s good enough for me, it should sure as hell be good enough for you. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you a goddamn thing.
You think you want a peek into my life? I promise you, you really don’t. Cling to the one you love and do not let them go. The promise is freedom, but in reality the truth is a heart shackled and riddled with pain.
I wish I had a happier intro to share with you, but really, there isn’t going to be a happy ending to this, so if that is what you are seeking, go elsewhere.
I know, I sound like one of those horrible country western songs, all gloom and doom, cheating partners and whiskey soaked nights. How did I get to this place? I don’t even like country music.
I admit I am in love with two women though.
Desperately and utterly in love…
Although she is my Domme, Bianca Phelps was an after thought…as in after I was already married to another woman, Emma, who I shared a lovely decade with; we made three wonderful, beautiful sons together, Laertius Thomas, Cicero Michael and Socrates David, who go by their mother’s chosen middle names…Tom, Mick, and Dave…and although my wife’s butchery of their names was no more the cause of our separation than our decision to keep to our polyamorous roots even after our marriage, she might disagree with that statement. We fought over the boys names ceaselessly.
I still see Emma once a week, Wednesday nights, for our weekly foray into marriage counseling, followed by sex, really awe-inspiring sex, because that really was the best part of our marriage from the very beginning. I suppose it will be what holds us together, if anything can.
I have the boys every Tuesday and every Friday, over-nighting into Saturday, the latter part causing some disgruntled feelings on Bianca’s part because she can’t sleep in our house when the boys are sleeping in our house, and although she bitches and moans about it quite loudly, I doubt she is that distressed considering the fact that she is seeing not one, but two other men. I know, I can’t complain…I have a wife after all. Can I help it that I don’t like the other men she is seeing?
No, I can’t even say that.
I do not like
call it my great character flaw, machismo. On the other hand, I’ve never met
the man she calls, Bishop, but I don’t like it that she’s in love with him. Oh,
she would say differently, so closed does she keep her heart. But I’ve been in
love…I know what it looks like in a lover’s eyes and when she talks to him on
the phone, I see that look. She doesn’t look at me that way. Adrian
Do you think I will care if you think I’m a bitch? I don’t care. Really. I don’t. I married Jameson because I expected to live the rest of my life with him, raise children with him…growing fucking old with him. What? You think I sound angry? Good. Angry is beneficial…anger gets things done.
Sure, when I met Jameson I knew he called himself poly as in polyamorous as in he just wants to have his cake and eat it and everyone else’s too. I get that. I even went along with it…I’m not a nun—I like sex, a lot, and if there is one thing not wrong with our relationship, it’s the sex.
But you know, it is one thing to swing and attend play parties when there is no one to hurt but each other, add kids to the mix and it’s a whole different story entirely. At least in my mind, it is. So yeah, once we had a baby, I thought Jameson would grow up and leave the wild sex orgies behind him. Then we had a second baby…and a third. I don’t think that scene would have lasted much longer for us. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be getting bored with the whole thing…and then he met The Bitch.
I can’t even say her name, Bianca, without wanting to puke. The little cross the border whore, came over here to steal our hardworking, educated men!
I don’t begrudge her love…she just needs to find someone that she doesn’t have to steal from someone else.
I gave him a choice: me and the kids or his perverted lifestyle and her.
Sure, she’s laughing her ass off right now, because he moved in with her, but that was just a minor battle, I still have a war to win…and you know what they say, all’s fair in love and war.