Control Is the Real Seduction

 

Happy Monday my lovelies. Did you have a fantastic weekend? Good, good. I had a very enjoyable one here in the Militiverse.

Can I take your coat and offer you something to drink, tea, coffee, or something a little more… veinous?

Tonight, let’s talk about how control is the real seduction in books. Get comfy and let’s begin.

 

Measured Moves

It was my last night in the city. The trip had been to scout out places where he would go, bars he frequented. Drinks he enjoyed. All the little details that go into making the scenes authentic.

That first night, he came to my room. He oozed a confidence that I knew he was going to be different, difficult, everything about him was measured and completely on his terms.

Even now, he decides that he has something to add. I had left my main notebook in my hotel room. In my bag, I had a smaller one, bought about an hour and a half earlier in a convenience store near a metro station.

I removed the notebook, glanced at the cover, it was very pretty, with a graphic of the Eiffel Tower, a riverboat, and the bridge. I placed the notebook on the table and rummaged for a pen, when I glanced across at the side of the building. A tall, shadowed figure, leaned against the wall, leather coat buttoned and hair loose. The smile was infectious. Here he was again, pursuing, waiting for me to find the pen, and he would dictate the words.

Surrender as Choice

It was warm inside the bistro. All around the various tables, there were couples, small groups and a few men playing cards. There was even a woman reading a book. I peered to see the title, it was Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du mal.

A wry smile crossed my lips as I thought, what else would be perfect in the bistro but a woman reading one of the most delicious irresistibly dark poems. The irony wasn’t lost on me. You see, he loved Baudelaire along with the good doctor’s story.

I wonder now, as I remember that night in detail, if he guided me to the bistro or if it was coincidental. However, nothing about him was accidental.

The Power in Silence

The first time that I had ever seen him, he was standing with both hands resting on a highly polished counter. A glass of single malt whisky in front of him. That hellishly sexy smirk on his handsome face. His head half turned and he locked eyes. He was waiting, for whom I had no idea. Though it didn’t take long before they came. They greeted him but his eyes never left mine.

All around him there was music blaring out of the speakers, and while the others laughed, and spoke amongst themselves, he stayed silent. It was the first time that I noticed how he controlled the situation. He wasn’t loud, he didn’t raise his voice above the din. His restraint dominated the scene without even trying. 

Intimacy in Command

They all commanded attention. Let’s face it, they walked into a room, and one was completely under their spell. A look from them, and you would willingly commit a sin twice without remorse.

He was the one that pulled me in first. A look from those eyes, a half smile and the way he shifted his body. All done masterfully. Within the intimacy one found oneself. That seductive command he was expert in.

The Pull That Remains

That is how morally grey men are. Particularly in books. They don’t want to be saved. There’s no calling to understand them. We are drawn to them because we think we can save them. That is the real control that they have over us, that is how control becomes the seduction.

The writer and the reader are under the spell now, it didn’t take long, did it? A look here, a word uttered there.

He pulled me in long before I ever wrote a single word. He showed himself to me, half in the light but mainly in the shadows.

Though I am finished polishing the manuscript, it is with the editor, he still pulls me into his world. He is the one that I can’t stop thinking of.

 

Next… You’ll Meet Him

One thing that this city has, that almost no other capital city can ever have and that is, it seduces without even trying. I came here researching atmosphere, locations, and my senses were opened to things that I never thought possible.

His game was being played long before I met him. He is an expert at what he does. He commands without trying. He guides you; he teaches, he dominates and you are helpless to resist.

What I found with him, was his ability to tell you to write the story his way. But even as I outlined his book, I knew he wasn’t completely honest with me. None of them were….

I know you want to meet him. So let me introduce you to the man who has dominated my life, my insomnia and my waking hours.

Tempus Ordo Mortis. Emile’s story.

Coming on eBook and Paperback 08-05-2026.

Thanks for sharing this journey with me over the past few weeks. Remember my lovelies, the sound of a saxophone playing in the distance, a petal casually landing at your feet, or a page in a book suddenly opening, perhaps Emile is close, he’s like that, he doesn’t like rules and refuses to obey them.

So, if you feel watched…Don’t turn around!!!

Anna