Darcy's News & Happenings
- Blogging at RT BOOKreviews Blog about Haevyn's life in Quentopolis.
- Silver took 3rd Place in the Best Bisexual/Transgender Romance & Erotic Romance Category of the 2011 Rainbow Awards.
- Silver received an honorable mention in the Best Bisexual/Transgender Novel/Book Category of the 2011 Rainbow Awards.
For someone who reads so widely it was refreshing to see a book that combines my love of mm and mf, mfm in such [a] unique way. ... I have to give this book 4 stars for such an interesting storyline and one that successfully presents a character who's past mistakes have made her a toy in an interesting political game. Who knew spying could be sexy! --Queen Bee, Booked Up ReviewsSilver Review
...Silver is a story that is riveting and at times disturbing, yet utterly fascinating. It melds gender and erotica together in one sensual story. ... To say I was riveted by this story is an understatement. I marveled at the world that Ms. Abriel has created. ... It is hard to adequately find the words to describe the world and the characters that inhabit the world of Silver, and equally difficult to explain the characters and story line without revealing too much that needs to be read and digested and mulled over by the reader themselves. This is a great start to a new series and Darcy Abriel is definitely an up and coming author to take note of! --- --Sabine, Amazon.comSilver Review
...I had a love/hate feeling while reading Silver (first book of Humanotica series) book.... It was different and very unique from any book I'd ever read...I loved Silver's voice and mind... Overall, I highly recommend readers to give this book a chance... --Sean, Hearts On Fire ReviewsSilver Review
Every once in a while (if you're lucky), you come across that one book that so absolutely amazes and delights you that it makes you want to run through the streets, singing its praises to the world. The kind of book that's constantly on your mind, playing with your emotions, and demanding that you find a few more minutes to savour it -- because just 'reading' it is never enough. For me, Darcy Abriel's Silver (Book 1 of the Humanotica series) is that book... --Sally, Bibrary ReviewsSilver Review
..The sex scenes were inventive and carefully written so as to bring out emotion. It wasn't mindless. They were also very very hot. The science fiction concepts in regard to the sex was also interesting and gave it even more depth... --blackenedvoodooreviewsSilver Review
...The science fiction parts of this story were fascinating. I found the decadent, fallen-empire politics very reminiscent of the darker parts of Star Wars, and the Roman Empire during the excesses of some of really bad Emperors. The sexual politics and cybernetic control that Entreus is both using and fighting are really wild. --Marlene, Book Lovers, Inc.
- Amazon Author Page
- Shelfari Author Page
- Darcy's Word Press Blog
- Humanotica World Website
Darcy's Blog Preview
Duty and honor demand the ultimate sacrifice. No matter what the law decrees, Entreus is no one's chattel. And he's determined that no other humanotic--part human, part robot--spends one more second under the stranglehold of the power-mad government machine. That means doing whatever it takes to advance the cause for freedom. Even seduce a government minister's favorite toy, a newly minted trinex named Silver.
Silver was a free woman until she committed the ultimate sin--pretending to be male to gain entrance to an exclusive science academy. Her punishment: modification. Now she is equal parts female, male and machine. The property of the secretive, charismatic Lel Kesselbaum, whose appetites push her new sexual abilities to heights of pleasure that make her wonder who is master, who is slave. Until Entreus bargains his body in exchange for a secret meeting that rekindles her longing for freedom. Yet helping the fiery revolutionary execute his plan isn't so simple, especially when she discovers her master's secret--a secret that leaves her heart torn between two men. And one step in the wrong direction could mean death for them all.
I slide from the bed and walk into the bathroom. I remember to leave the door open and unlocked. It is a large room, almost equaling the magnificent proportions of the high-ceilinged bedroom. Stark white marble veined in ambient red. Thick, pale columns surround the sunken circular tub. Brass fittings with an odd assortment of contraptions to clean and to arouse. Strong crimson metal rings affixed to the columns at just the right height, and more of them embedded into the shiny floor, used both for pleasure and for punishment. I feel a phantom bite of the crop across my flanks as I step past the columns and stop in front of the finely-appointed porcelain pedestal sink. I regard my reflection in the oval beveled mirror as I clean off the evidence of my lust. I hear the muffled tinkling melody of a music box from the other room. The minister is obviously satisfied with the fucking that has just taken place. The music is light and cheerful.
I gaze down at the silver-tipped cock that bobs against my abdomen, rising proudly from the close-cropped thatch of curly silver hairs. The shiny tip stark and foreign, yet intriguingly sexy against the dusky flush of my aroused flesh. Oh, yes, they've done a superbly artistic job of blending human flesh with silvery graft. One couldn't even tell it was not part of my original skin. I could almost feel the whirring and spinning of mechanisms inside me spliced with my human parts. A touch to the crown by my master and the silver creamy substance spurts from the slit. I noted the seepage on his command--a touch of human flesh to the new, enhanced skin of my cock. My prick responds like a security door to a palm-print recognition device.
I touch the tip with my finger, curious. No fluid leaks from the slit. A subtle difference in body temperature between human and humanotic. Or is it, as I suspect, that his imprint is embedded for recognition into the silvery surface of my newly enhanced penis?
My hands are no longer made of truly human flesh, but now have artificial texture, degrees of difference in body temperature. My hands and arms were the first limbs robotized two years ago when I first gave my consent. I laugh at the word consent. My choices were few. Incarceration at the Factorium and subjugation to the whims of many with no hope of protector among any, or allow the minister to perform his personal brand of research and accept protection as the chattel of a powerful man? Memories of my life in the workhouse fueled the only possible decision I could have made under the circumstances.
I grip my cock just below the head. I note how the color of my glans now perfectly matches the hue and texture of my arms and legs. And yet there is no harsh delineation between silvered humanotic and human flesh. Oh no. The doctors have turned into true artistes. Silver blends and fuses together like one of the statues in the esteemed Museum of Antiquities. Not a hint that I was once wholly human, nor possibly wholly mechanized. I appear as though I have always been as I am at this moment. Trinex. And I think that scares me more than anything else. What truly terrifies me is that, at some deeper level, as I assimilate the modification, I love what I have become. How long before the minister realizes my feelings? Outwardly, I fight him, but my sporiti yearns to be exactly where I am. I stroke my hand down over the flesh of my cock, enjoying the knowledge that this maleness is now so much a part of who I am. And then there is the other.
How long before I am fashioned to respond more as machine than human? How long before not a speck of that young woman of so long ago is left?
No, he would want some of her to remain. Just enough to know the flesh and blood woman is still screaming inside to be released. The womanly essence that will fight him with her very last breath. Or will she?
How long can the agony go on? How long before the lust, like any addiction, takes me over completely, making me care little for the woman who forms the foundation of this creation? I am conflicted. I cannot let go of the past completely. And I think that, above anything else, will be my utter destruction. I must find a way to come to terms with the here and now.
I toss the washcloth into the sink and turn away from my reflection. I am not ready to surrender yet.