WATCH OUT: Xavier Axelson
SC: I want to welcome you all to another edition of Watch Out. This week I’m pleased to bring you author Xavier Axelson.
Welcome to Watch Out, Xavier, it is so great to have you here.
Thanks for having me!
SC: For the readers out there who might not know about you or your work, can you please tell them a little about yourself.
I write erotica for Silver Publishing and Seventh Window Publications and I am a columnist for Examiner.com, and also write a column for All Bear Online Magazine.
SC: You mentioned in your bio you have had many careers including working for a Hollywood Madame, and a talent agent for the adult film industry. Did any of those jobs inspire your fiction? What was the hardest part of working those jobs?
Actually no, they haven’t inspired my fiction, not yet anyway. I think they were all hard; working in the sex industry is difficult because everyone is in a heightened state of sexuality and that makes things complicated. It’s intense for sure.
SC: Can you tell us a little about your current release?
My current release is Lily:
Being a single Dad is hard enough but when Pryor loses his daughter Lily in an unthinkable event, he thinks he has experienced the ultimate horror but it’s when Lily returns he realizes his nightmare has only just begun…
When Pryor’s daughter Lily is taken by a wolf, Pryor is convinced she has turned into the creature he sees lurking in his woods. He swears she promises to return to him. But is it his despair and desperation making him see things or is there something more lurking in the shadows of the forest? When he meets Ned, a silversmith who helps him with a plan to bring his daughter back into his life, he begins to live again. But can his newfound love help ease the horror that may be waiting? What if the ultimate horror isn’t when Lily was taken but it’s when Lily returns and he realizes his nightmare has only just begun…
I am Lily’s father, my name is Pryor. It was a year ago last Father’s Day when she was taken from me. I still believe being Lily’s father is the most important thing in this world.
Unfortunately, my daughter dwells in another world.
* * * * *
I glanced at the necklace. Ned’s pressed close to me, but the necklace I hoped would bring Lily back to me felt closer. Ned was soft in his sleep; not the bull of a man he was when he’s awake. I loved him soft and I loved him hard. It was his hardness that grounded me, that brought me in from the darkness. The necklace caught the light of the fading moon and I wondered where Lily was tonight.
The old clock on the nightstand hummed quietly; its vintage florescent glow a pale mockery of the necklace that lay beside it and yet I heard the clock, it won in that department. Time always does.
Ned moved against me, I could feel his arms pull me close, felt the bulge of his muscles, his arms thick and powerful. He had never loved a man before me. I had only loved Lily. Once she changed, I had little left to love; in fact, I was certain love had disappeared from my life all together.
The clock still hummed, never quiet; it’s old and made noise as if time itself wanted us all to know that it was passing and with each minute Lily fell farther and farther into the darkness. The tears came then and at the same time Ned’s cock pushed more firmly against my back. He grumbled, pulled me even tighter so that I could truly feel his penis–not hard, not entirely soft–on the edge of wanting. A tear fell and I gasped a little. Seeing the necklace; hearing the clock, feeling Ned’s cock, his muscles, I fell away into him and closed my eyes.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I was,” I replied softly.
“No you weren’t,” his voice was sleepy; distant and yet he knew things, he knew I was awake, thinking about my lost daughter.
“It’s Father’s Day,” I answered, skipping over my lie. “Do you think she will come?” I felt him nod and nodded in return against my pillow. Another tear fell.
“Come closer,” he whispered.
“How much closer could I get?”
“Closer,” he said again, a growl, a grunt; there was the bull I knew.
His lips brushed on my neck, a hand on my thigh stroking, touching, pulling a sigh from my mouth. I wiped a hand across my face.
“I never get sick of touching you,” he whispered wetly, his tongue tracing my ear.
Smiling, I turned in his big arms and I could feel my thoughts ease. Ned had that way about him. ‘Magic arms’ I called him because he had this way of holding me that made me feel completely safe and for one man to be able to do that for another was amazing.
I kissed him and was happy to discover his breath was not bad but sweet, the trace of his toothpaste before bed still there and I smiled even as I kissed him. Ned sighed gently, his cock fully hard now, urgent, pressing. I reached down and stroked him through his boxers; he was already wet. I tried to pull my tongue from his mouth but he only pulled me closer, deeper; at one point I was almost certain one of us was going to stop breathing.
He finally relented but only because I jokingly squeezed his balls a little too tightly.
“Fuck, you make me nuts,” he grumbled, we both laughed at his joke.
His hand reached for my cock; I slept naked so there was no flimsy cotton between his rough hands and my skin.
“You like that?”
I nodded, I did like it, I’d thought I wouldn’t ever be able to like sex again, or any intimacy after Lily disappeared.
His hands were rough but I relished his edges; he touched me as if he knew me and, after a year, I guess he kind of did.
“You want me to suck it?” His voice was hoarse with his question; there was still a shy embarrassment behind it, as if he couldn’t really believe he was going to suck cock.
“What do you think?”
My response excited him. I could see it in his eyes, even in the dark; the fading moon told me just enough.
When you had a daughter like mine, you learned a lot from the moon.
SC: Which do you prefer eBooks or paperback?
I’ve never read an E-Book, so I guess paperback.
SC: What influences the topics, and genre’s that you pick to write a story in?
So many things; nature, news, design, art, anger, frustration, passion, sex, food
SC: One thing readers might be surprised to know about you?
I don’t read erotica.
SC: What is the biggest misconception you think people have about erotic authors?
I think it’s people’s misconceptions about sex which leads narrow minded judgements made about people who write about it.
SC: What are you currently reading?
A Man Lay Dead by Ngaio Marsh
SC: Currently listening to?
Lana Del Rey, Florence and the Machine, Monsters and Men
SC: Describe your books in 3 words.
Dark, Dangerous, Dirty
SC: If you could step into the shoes of another author who would you pick? Why?
Marquis De Sade….why? Come on!
SC: What do you think sets your stories apart from other authors?
I think my writing is different in the way each writer’s work is different; my voice, my descriptive language is different from other writers, as it should be.
SC: Is there anything you’re currently working on that you can give us a taste of?
“Surely you can spare one so pitiful, so full of remorse,” Nori spoke quickly. He could see the emperor was losing patience. There had been much blood shed as of late. Not more than a day passed without the spilling of blood. The street had begun to buzz with strange murmurs; fear and anxiety were plaguing the people. Rumours of madness and blood lust were growing and among a select few; mutiny was in the air.
SC: What is the best advice you ever got with regards to writing?
There’s always something else you could be doing, always some star that needs naming or dish that needs washing…sit in the chair and write!
SC: Any advice for new writers out there?
Do you scribe, just do you!
Where can readers find out more about you and your work?