Rano

Just to say I've started to read this story ... As a result of a nice "fluke". Was checking e-mail after lunch and amongst the few new messages one from GA re. some R. Eric having updated a story - I hardly ever open these kind of mails, but this Sunday I did. Zoomed into your "resume" of stories and, well, was quite chaffed at the titles and short "summaries." Then my eyes caught this one, and noticed it was completed (I just HATE starting a story and then have to wait for ages plus an extra few days for good measure...) The title caught my attention and decided to download all five chapters for a quick read. My of my, was I ever so pleasantly surprised to realise just how long most of the chapters are! When I've finished reading your introductory paragraph, I just had interrupt myself to compliment you on a job well done. Whether you've done so intentionally, I don't know, but you've arrested my attention. Well done, I can't wait to withdraw and continue this prommising tale...

The closing two paragraphs have me confused. Had to read it a few times to get a handle on the broader context So, Sergei is a "spirit" as well? Quite some cliffhanger you leave a person with - well, me at least. Looking forward to see what you have up the sleeves. Just wondering if Neal is some kind of "Sixth Sense" chappy who finds it difficult to distinguish between reality and the other world? Just to get back to the closing paragraphs, it left me with an eerie, foreboding feeling... Looking forward to see how you are going to develop this tale.

Definitely hooked by this intro-chapter. Likes Eddie's voice, and can't prolong to see how the relationship between him Daniel is going to develop...And that askance reference to when he was 14 years ild . hmmm something happened...Anyway, got some further reading to do

This is not a review at all - just a few thoughts to share It's been a few years since I've last commented, but I want you to know that, since your return to this story, I was way-out delighted and started to read all over from scratch... As far as I'm concerned, Riley, this is one of the best chapters so far. You've chosen appropriately to allow the Buford's to visit. In a very natural way you've solved a problem I wasn't shure just how you were going to pull it off, meaning: bringing Lucy and Geoff around. Well done This whole chapter fits and feels just right. The content and the way in which you've allowed everyone's emotions to play out - beautiful. My heart went out to Alice, and off course, our young hero as well. I've been choked up, and, well, with wet eyes...helping me to reflect in a positive way upon some personal loss as well. No, you won't do justice to this saga by trying to tie everything together in the funeral-episode (that is sure to follow) and an epilogue. Epilogues are are almost like Deus ex Machina's, as far I'm concerned... Luke and Elliot beg some serious rounding-out, and Si (a fave of mine - one of four ) needs to properly come out and take his stand side by side with Luke. Then again, it's your story. Just had to share my thoughts.

When I wrote this Tanka, it was the least of my expectations to see it published here. How kief (cool) is that! Ta stax for the acknowledgement. Inspiring indeed

The healing process is slow but sure (for most of us ) It's great to know that you plan to wrap-up T&T in a satisfactory way and I'm looking forward to it. I thoroughly enjoyed this story so far...and that reward you've received some time ago was well deserved

As a teenager, before I poured water, I had to bump the glass three times on the palm of my hand. Ate food drenched in vinegar – where others will take swigs out of the milk bottle in the fridge, I would take a swig from the vinegar bottle – fried eggs swimming in vinegar, and afterwards drinking the vinegar… When going to sleep, the bedroom must be in utter darkness, so dark that I literally can’t see my hand in front of my eyes. Don’t ask me to quickly come watch something on TV – I won’t. I don’t own a TV I watch DVD’s on my laptop if I feel the need for a movie… French fries and cheese-curls I eat with a fork...only braai'ed (BBQ-ed) ribs and chops I can handle with my hands, but with a damp cloths closeby Lastly: I can’t read a GA story (or any other story) on the net. It have to be downloaded and pasted into Word. As I read the story I just can’t help but to proofread at the same time (whether asked to do so or not,) highlighting etc. as I plod along – except where I find the author, editor and beta were just careless; then and only then I will just discard a story and steer clear of that author’s work

Thanks for the review, Timothy. You've sold me Judas Tree Downloaded and on my reading list.

Exactly what I also say. Most often than not we wait for the other person to make the first move - that seldom happens - instead of just moving in and grab the bull by the b... horns. I wish you a positive one! Hey, when you think about it, all he can say is yes or no...and if no, it's not the end of the world. We'll be here to dust you off But go for the positive, armed with that killer smile that got you the job at the Varsity

This story is just getting better and better It’s so much fun tot read and a real delight to follow the ever-blossoming relationship between Ben and Asher. Asher and Tommie’s interactive bantering in the kitchen, once again, while Ben is listening in on the conversation - very humorous and quite natural. A real treat is on display in carrying the story with dialogue. You are definitely compensating one heck of a lot with all the intimacy all of a sudden, considering how some of us were panting while our boys(and they were panting more ) were still finding themselves on some kind of desert-patch on the island and in the glass-castle. I’m not really one for hardcore S&M, but the wonderful way the “S&M” bit is weaved into this storyline almost makes it desirable for me to go and try out heh heh , with Asher growling all the time. Very good and, well... I like how they begin to laugh, tilting heads, snorting, smirking, kissing, nodding, snickering, suggest, some more humming and even purring, whispering and making a negative noise. The following, well written: “OK, I’ll leave ASAP then,” Tommy said happily. “No ‘extra’ ingredients, though. I don’t care how kinky you and Ben get, just keep it away from my food.” Tommy snorted. “I noticed your shorts are inside out. Maybe if I search hard enough, I’ll be able to find your virginity, since you’ve obviously misplaced it.” “Try looking for a girlfriend instead. Maybe you can find somewhere to ‘misplace’ your own.” “Beg,” he suggested, teasing me with his eyes. “Please, Asher,” I begged, not hesitating at all. “I’m all yours. Please fuck me!” He ignored me, punishing me for disobeying him, and started to nibble up my neck to my ear. “Punish me,” I begged. “Fuck me hard!” I froze, trying to obey him, but he ran his hand down my chest, and I shook slightly with raw need. RAW NEED, now that’s something new to me. “Stay. Still.” He growled, digging his teeth into my neck. “I’m sorry, baby,” I moaned, trying not to quiver with anticipation as his hips moved slightly. His hand left my ass for a second, and I fought against another shiver until his hand met my ass again with a soft smack, making me moan. I couldn’t stop myself from wiggling, and he smacked my ass again, growling his displeasure. “You’re so sexy,” he whispered, punctuating every word with a thrust forward, pulling me towards him by the hips to meet him. “You make me feel so good,” I gasped. “I’m gonna-” “No!” he growled. “You’re mine, and I won’t allow you to orgasm until I do.” The following created an interesting cameo in my mindal eye: I whimpered, pleading with him wordlessly, but he was relentless. I recited the alphabet backwards, doing everything I could to slow the rising wave of pleasure, but I was losing touch with reality as Asher pounded my ass. I dug my fingernails into my palms, even though they weren’t long, and it seemed to help a little, delaying me for just long enough. All in all it must’ve been quite a workout: I don’t think he said anything else, but if he did, I missed it, 'cause I was out like a light. Tommy’s coughing sounded suspiciously like the word ‘pathetic’. And the cooking oil...OMG! I just love the way the chapters are ended, not necessarily cliff hangers, but the sweet, beautiful and romantic way they usually goes to sleep – “perchance to dream...” This kind of talented writing is a breath of fresh air indeed. You can take your place with some of our most talented authors here at GA...Again WTG, Faxity

This was such an extra super duper luxuriously extraordinary chapter, when measured against all the previous ones - they are all extraordinary as far as I'm concerned but this one could be an object lesson to others, even more "mature" authors, of how to write sensitively, sensually yet graphicall erotic love scenes. Adjectives such as erotic, steamy, sexily, sensual, voluptuous, etc. do not fit here and are not by far able to describe, from my point of view, what actually transpired here. I was deeply moved by this eventual “consummation” scène – for lack of another or even better term – between Ben and Asher. I actually don’t have the appropriate words to describe to the author or anyone else reading this wonderful story -- what I have read here. The extra bonus also being one of the love scenes that’s based on the painting... Thank you so much for that, Faxity, yip, one mighty Big FAT HUG, 'K?. Beautifully done and as visually descriptive as the visual itself! heh heh I mean: “I opened my mouth for him, ready to give him anything he wanted, and I felt the tip of his tongue touch mine. The soft, wet, warmth of his tongue touched my lip for a second, and I smiled as I stuck out my tongue further for him. Our tongues pressed together, and Asher leaned in, closing the last small gap between our lips. Our tongues danced gracefully as we kissed leisurely, full to the brim of love.” Who can better that!? You’re a STAR in your own right. Allow me I loved the scène in the kitchen while Ben, Asher and Tommy are having the tacos for supper. The bantering and witty remarks between our two boys and Tommy, especially from Asher’s side. So natural and unaffected. I wonder to who else these wonderful two so-called fictional characters have actually became rather real? Whenever I turn to any one of these chapters, I'm transported to another world that's extraordinarily and wonderfully real to me... Listen, Buddy, I hope you realize that you have and are still setting standards here, eh? Big Hugz for a fantastical chapter (and as you know, it was all actually starting to build up since chapter 6 and 7!) I really stand in awe when considering all the facts... SIGH...

When I saw the title of this story, interest was immediately aroused and I wondered just how the author has approached this subject, especially considering the fact that in ancient Greek mythology, dryads are depicted as female nymphs or spirits, taking care of forests and groves in the greenwoods, and where each dryad exists for the sole purpose of guarding and nurturing their individual trees, whether living in their personal trees or very close by. When the tree dies, the dryad goes down with it. In the case where a mere mortal is to be blamed for the death of the tree, the person responsible will have to bear the retribution of the gods, and in this case, the great god, Pan, under whose auspices all the dryads are; although the dryad may also step in and dish out some punishment should a mortal dare to injure the specific tree of the dryad... That said, I am of the opinion that the author has done some groundbreaking by creating a new mythos and introducing a young, male dryad, and to top it all, a hot and beautiful teenage dryad. Whether the depiction of this male dryad gels with our present knowledge of mythology or not, we do create our own realities, and in my opinion our author has done just that, wittingly or unwittingly, providing us with a new slant and view of “modern” mythology... We meet a teenage boy, age 16 (he’s never introduced by name, neither the dryad, or for that matter, anyone of his family) who relates his experience in the first person. (I was wondering how the story would have developed if it was approached from the omnipotent observer’s point of view, i.e. in the third person?) Howbeit, our boy lives with his family, together with three brothers and his mother (nothing is said about a father), apparently in a pastoral setting, because he is so close to a forest and goes to school by bus. He suffers from severe headaches, and the only relief for this unfortunate malady is to take a book and visit a favourite tree of his in a forest close by. This he has done many times, but on this specific day he’s in for a pleasant surprise: meeting a beautiful, hot, teenage male dryad his own age. After some verbal interaction between them, the story moves very quickly to an entertaining erotic encounter of some length. This reader is left with the impression that the boy has found his cure by having had this encounter with the dryad-boy, and was looking forward to many more meet-ups in the wild greenwood... I was left with a question. Just how reliable a source of information does the boy prove to be? He’s obviously a loner amongst his other three brothers. He suffers from severe headaches and is constantly looking for an opportunity to be alone in the woods, away from “the maddening crowd”. Although it is not stated in the narrative, there is the possibility of the boy hallucinating when he thought he saw the dryad – who appeared to him to be just another boy of his own peer group. On the other hand, the whole episode may be “for real,” and final judgment depends on how the reader prefers to interpret this episode. I happened to go with the flow of the narrator... The setting (forest) influences the drive of the plot quite strongly, in my opinion. Consider the forest as representing a place of wild abandonment – the possibility that someone will chance upon the two boys is far and few between. And as for the mortal boy to be so blatantly forward in his request to the dryad, makes it more believable that he could have done so considering his surroundings. I was looking for some kind of message in this story. At first I thought it may have been written without any specific message in mind, intending just to be a pièce of entertaining, voluptuous and wanton slash. But after some thought it dawned on me that in this short, charming, yet lustful story, a profound message is bound up. Thoughts such as perseverance will pay off; altruism do have its rewards; to make friends, you must be approachable, and I’m sure you, the reader of this review, will be able to conjure your own slant on things. When I refer to perseverance, altruism and being approachable, I’m thinking of: Perseverance: the boy has made a point of always taking a bottle of water as a gift for the tree that has provided him solace and temporary relief from his headaches. A kind of thank-offering. Altruism: He was not rewarded materially, he just did it, even when he thought it was "stupid" to do so, but without him expecting it, he was rewarded with one of the greatest gifts a person can wish for in our day and age, i.e. friendship, companionship and even the fringe-benefits that eventuates from that (physical indulging and gratification.) Being approachable: The boy opened himself wide, risking a lot, by boldly taking the first step and laying bear his personal desire...How many times do we sit and wait to be approached by someone we fancy, never considering the unfortunate fact that the other party is just as scared as yourself to make the first move. Think about it... I’ve found The Dryad to be an entertaining and even educational pièce of fantasy writing. When I compare (actually there’s no comparison,) but trying to compare it with the authors debute story, The Island’s Secret, I’ve been pleasantly “shocked” by the overt display of sexual scenes and images that are mainly non-existent so far in the Island narrative – mind you, this is but an observation and not a judgment. To wrap up: In reflection I’ve enjoyed this simple tale tremendously. It took me back to my own youth where I’ve met with incidental situations in mealie (corn/maze) patches; being on educational school tours; memorable so-called one night stands, and more... And, YES, I’m looking forward to read much more in future by this author. He has a way to present natural, uncontrived, and ingenuous content in an enjoyable and loveable, likable way. If you haven’t yet, go check out and enjoy his other work. I can assure you, you will be surprised by joy and in for a massive treat

Rooting for you, Steph

The following is an extremely subjective take on the author's poem that had me return time and again these past few days, to read and reread the words that evoked an almost unexplainable response within me: This poem speaks to me about the deceptiveness of the human mind, and reminds me of a passage that was originally jotted down in an ancient scroll, where the author of said passage refers to the human heart (or mind) as hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out. We need to be moderate in our thinking because nothing is really the way as we perceive it to be. A flickering flame of fire, like a snowflake – is never the same, it has no duplicate; a soft breeze – may be soft, but never exactly from the same direction or with the same force; the sound or tinkling of the act of peeing – at times at the exact same place, but always at a different angle, with a different sound; and even the earth that seems to be so solid or “compacted” is in actual fact not all that solid, because everyday the earth's crust moves up and down, approximately 30 cm (coincidentally overheard this interesting byte over the radio today.) All so-called things are uniquely different in appearance but existentially the same in their separate, individual constitution or substance. Everything in and around us disintegrate eventually – apparently a necessity to comprehend something of the eternal return, the so-called Wheel of Life, and this action of Life and Death and Life again, is based on cause and effect (reaction/response). This apparent inexorable motion of everything that we know, and even what we do not know of, happens at times in an abnormal haphazard, kind of trial-and-error manner, i.e. at random; and relentless and mercilessly without consideration of who or what gets hurt in this process of hit-or-miss. We are not aware when or how an anomalous “event” is going to transpire, due to its fortuitous disguise (I cannot be seen and clothed [for] I’m camouflaged...) All of these random actions or events stands in contrast to that which is inevitable – death... All considered, what is left at the late afternoon of the day, before the sun sets, that you have consciousness, that you know that you know, and to exert yourself while still this side of the Big Blue Curtain, Otherwise your life become futile and without meaning...

This intro (chapter 1) grabbed my interest from the word go – “I had thought they were only a legend...” I also appreciate the voice, presenting an atmosphere of other-worldliness, and in a rhythmic cadence that reminds me of the old man on the farm, when us cousins would sit around the fire during the December school holidays, listening to fireside stories. The voice is soothing on my inner ear and a pleasure to read, i.e.: “They were said to be close to the Earth, to hold the Earth’s secrets of healing and nature. They were said to be of great stature and strength while being by nature peace-loving, were capable of making terrifying war.” I realize that this is but some kind of introduction, but I’m already hooked. “And then he appeared. He came silently from the trees. He was completely naked, head and shoulders taller than the tallest of my people. His broad, powerful chest was covered with light brown hair that trailed down to meet his genitals.” Interesting way of introducing a rather mysterious kind of people, especially a people about who no one knows exactly how they procreate; but if he has healing powers in his semen, than I guess there could be some alternative ways of procreating too?...Anything goes with Fantasy Stories heh heh. He’s definitely not a barbarian or sex-crazed maniac, ‘cause “His face was a mixture of the concern he had shown before and small satisfaction of orgasm.” I think I’m going to enjoy this fantasy tale...