Dominance Games: An Essay on Power A Novel
Book Details
Author(s)B Schiff
PublisherCreateSpace
ISBN / ASIN1460916069
ISBN-139781460916063
MarketplaceFrance 🇫🇷
Description
Truth floats through gauzy mists. Cynicism is wrapped in soft cloth. There is fear, intimidation, loss. There is ecstasy, the traps of history, of identity, of territory, of belief. There is passion. There is wisdom. There are kills, histories with long roots, many mothers, unyielding fathers. There are neon lit nights and a strong dose of tough; memories, cold hard facts.
Mean and lust are tempo. There is myth. There are back alleys, dark places. Depression America. Mid century America. World Wars. Modern times. A panorama of decades.
Conflict urges towards damnation, urges towards the visceral thrills of the rewards of power. There is dismissiveness, domination, the fears of power, the traps of circumstance, of will, of cynicism, of want.
There is love and loss. Love and truth. Gain. Fashion. Wry, lucid, formidable, cowling experience. Mean and lust are tempo. Blood lust, general lust. Movement. Desire. There is opportunity. Human capital. Vulnerable human capital.
A strange, hard, tough country with life full and intimidation fast and heat coming as a whippet, a whirlwind. Decades. A crooked mirror showing on force, intimidation, kills, want, ambition, politics, justice, conflict, power. Strength.
A hard, tough cynical little novel. 50,000 words. A mean searing little story. A dirty rapt little primer. Dominance Games. Visceral thrills and the rewards of circumstance. Death seeks his muse. There are charms for the charmer.
Swirling plays for the depths of men's souls. The world an art. Back alleys. Aphrodisiacs with coldness of purpose, nights of intimidation.
She was pure or not, my reward or not, my savior or not. "Tell me," she said, "of veins of ice, wills of iron, men of steel. Tell me," she said, "of men so bent and weary with the weight of the world on their noble backs. Tell me about the insurmountable," she said.
Vulnerabilities mix with fears. Muses skirt perfection. A trip through lovers' lane, searing challenges, hard victories. Loss, longing, loyalty. Love, yearning, fear. Hope, redemption.
Identities fuse with purpose, libidos, with the dregs of history, the wills of forever with fulfillment.
"I can make you sell your mother, your father, your past, your future just for a whiff of me, a whiff of my clothes, a look at me in the pale light," she said. "I can make you beg to take a fancy ride with me to the left side of hell," she said.
"We empower the currency of will, Steele," he said. "We yield to the temptation of corruption," he said. "We see as men of ability see, Steele," he said. "We structure in our little goals," he said
"The will business is a fascinating business, young Steele," Amy had said. "The conditions imposed on us by mere existence, Steele," she said, "offer countless variations on basic themes," she said. "The will business is a fascinating business," she said.
A tempered stew radiates out from the sinews and muscles of longing and regret. Sweet honor, love, power, revenge. Bazaars, back alleys, base myths. Time a strange longing myth. The world an art. Winners win.
Mean and lust are tempo. There is myth. There are back alleys, dark places. Depression America. Mid century America. World Wars. Modern times. A panorama of decades.
Conflict urges towards damnation, urges towards the visceral thrills of the rewards of power. There is dismissiveness, domination, the fears of power, the traps of circumstance, of will, of cynicism, of want.
There is love and loss. Love and truth. Gain. Fashion. Wry, lucid, formidable, cowling experience. Mean and lust are tempo. Blood lust, general lust. Movement. Desire. There is opportunity. Human capital. Vulnerable human capital.
A strange, hard, tough country with life full and intimidation fast and heat coming as a whippet, a whirlwind. Decades. A crooked mirror showing on force, intimidation, kills, want, ambition, politics, justice, conflict, power. Strength.
A hard, tough cynical little novel. 50,000 words. A mean searing little story. A dirty rapt little primer. Dominance Games. Visceral thrills and the rewards of circumstance. Death seeks his muse. There are charms for the charmer.
Swirling plays for the depths of men's souls. The world an art. Back alleys. Aphrodisiacs with coldness of purpose, nights of intimidation.
She was pure or not, my reward or not, my savior or not. "Tell me," she said, "of veins of ice, wills of iron, men of steel. Tell me," she said, "of men so bent and weary with the weight of the world on their noble backs. Tell me about the insurmountable," she said.
Vulnerabilities mix with fears. Muses skirt perfection. A trip through lovers' lane, searing challenges, hard victories. Loss, longing, loyalty. Love, yearning, fear. Hope, redemption.
Identities fuse with purpose, libidos, with the dregs of history, the wills of forever with fulfillment.
"I can make you sell your mother, your father, your past, your future just for a whiff of me, a whiff of my clothes, a look at me in the pale light," she said. "I can make you beg to take a fancy ride with me to the left side of hell," she said.
"We empower the currency of will, Steele," he said. "We yield to the temptation of corruption," he said. "We see as men of ability see, Steele," he said. "We structure in our little goals," he said
"The will business is a fascinating business, young Steele," Amy had said. "The conditions imposed on us by mere existence, Steele," she said, "offer countless variations on basic themes," she said. "The will business is a fascinating business," she said.
A tempered stew radiates out from the sinews and muscles of longing and regret. Sweet honor, love, power, revenge. Bazaars, back alleys, base myths. Time a strange longing myth. The world an art. Winners win.
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