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 Word Count 57kSo Cynthia had this to say about Liam: I'm in love with this guy and it was kind of hard for me to find his image (which is not a bad thing at all, it makes him interesting!). He's had a hard life and he is tough, but has a 'soft' side and he is submissive too. I took some elements from the photo you sent - especially mouth, brows, maybe the face shape - but also added my 'touch'. The haircut had to say 'tough but soft' or 'rebel but submissive' and I'm not sure I got it but I came up with this conventional/unconventional style :P His height and weight are similar to mine, so I figured that, for a guy, he would be rather slim. I imagined him running from trouble, being scolded by one of the gang members, biting his nails because he is nervous and also happy because after all he is a nice guy with a big heart, and that's what I draw. I thought the way Cynthia portrays Liam is brilliant! She captured him in ways that I didn't think was possible. He does have that complexity going on. She did amazing on both Liam and Kai. I personally think she's improving her style. If you look at the last update, the shading between Kai and the young boy is amazing. The poses Cynthia did for Liam show so much of his personality and as I'm writing the story I have had these images in my mind. So very cool!  Word count is slow going. I felt stuck at the middle. (It happens) I knew I was missing something. Or felt like I was missing something. Then, I found John Trudy. His workshops have broken loose the scenes. They were all in my head and I was trying to hold them in memory instead of writing them down and letting my mind relax. Now the summary of scenes are written down and in order. I'm ready to go! Here's another favorite scene of mine:  Excerpt from: Handle with Care© S.N.McKibben No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted without written prior permission from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, incidents and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence. If you find any grammar, spelling or punctuation errors, please let know via the comments!! I may not get to them right away, but I will get to them. Thank you! If you are totally lost and would like to see more Story Updates for the Notice Me Senpai series push the button ↓ Chapter 5Jumpy little thing. Liam hopped around the room like a bundle of nerves standing on a live wire. I spoke soft and kept my words to a minimum. When I had come back from searing the steaks, I thought he had changed his mind and ran off. He was brave. Coming in here, asking to reside in my house. He had no idea who I was. If he had, he would not have stayed. It was dangerous for him to be with me. Our connection was not a fluke. I could not look at him. Those eyes burned my soul. I was unworthy of his admiration. His hero worship made me want to be the person he thought I was, but if he knew the truth, it would crush him. Bite after bite of steak, I wondered how Liam would taste. I stopped myself from imagining anything further. He was under-age. I resigned to think of him as the child on Labrador Street. But what we had, this thing, linking us together sent pulses of electricity through me. My spine felt it, my stomach felt it, my cock felt it too. A natural reaction to someone so attractive, for Liam had become a desirable specimen. That is what I told myself and ignored the ache between my legs. Liam picked up his plate and returned his dish to the sink. I would have to meditate tonight. “May I take your plate?” He was next to me looking down with that penetrating hazel gaze. Magnetism. If I described him in a word, that was his adjective. Mine were “dirty” and “cheap”. “Yes. I am finished.” He took my left-overs as a thousand questions flittered through my mind. How long would he stay? Why did he come find me? What did he expect from me? Was I a father figure? A friend? I would go no further than that. The bedroom needed to stay out of our relationship. But glimpses of imaginations tore through my resolve. Improper images… an arm reaching for me, his legs around my waist. I stood, the chair scraping against the floor as I rose. Silverware clanked against plates. His eyes were large and round as a doe’s. “I am retiring for the night. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.” I could scarcely look at him. “You are my guest. Take what you need. This place is yours.” “All right.” His voice soft. Reluctant. “And thank you for cleaning up.” “It’s what I do.” He smiled. I wanted more. To find out his reason for coming here. Why he came to find me. But I gave him a shallow bow and rushed to my bedroom. The ache between my legs only proved my procrastination to take care of myself. Since Moriel and I last spoke, I had not felt any need to sate myself sexually. I told my old friend I would not bother him anymore and I planned to keep that promise. Hard to admit, but Moriel was well taken care of. With his lascivious ways, having two lovers was perfect for him. And I had to learn to move on. His rejection was not surprising. Denied of making things right ripped my heart out. It seemed there would be no need for sexual release again in my lifetime. Then walked in Liam. He opened the locked door of my heart as easily as he had slipped into my home. Not just my heart. My thoughts. My soul. Now Liam preoccupied my body parts. It was unacceptable. He was a minor. Off limits. I removed my suit and put on the black and gray kimono. The light and easy assembly helped clear my mind and center myself. I would have tea, as usual, and that meant going downstairs. For a moment, I hesitated. Liam might still be down there. Irritated at my reluctance I pushed out of my dawdling and went down stairs to prepare my tea. “Ay, caramba!” Liam face palmed. He sat at the kitchen table, books open, papers sprawled, binders spilling out of his school bag. I waited at the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to bother him. “English, why do you have to be so stupid.” His words laced with a Spanish accent I had not heard out of him before. I padded over. “Can I be of assistance?” Liam jumped in his chair. He took a breath and ogled me up and down. “Hooaaaiiii.” His adorable shocked face made me want to smile. I did not allow my lips to curl, but I wanted to. “Hai.” I nodded. “Can I be of assistance?” He scanned me up and down, his mouth working but nothing came out until… “Haaa… I… bah… haaa… uuuuhhh…” Liam blinked his eyes. “English! Yes. English.” He patted the books and papers. “I was working on English. Paper. Report. Yes.” He looked up at me. “Huh?” The lift in my lips could not be helped. “English is my second language. It was difficult to learn so I can relate to its difficult inconsistencies. I blame English for my reserve in words. However, I have mastered the language. I can help you, if you desire.” Communication was not lacking within me now. Liam could get me to admit things without even asking. So very dangerous. He stared at me as if I had not said a word. “What are you wearing?” “A kimono.” “Are you a samurai?” He smiled. “This is traditional dress in Japan. While formal, it is comfortable.” I had one pair of jeans. Three t-shirts and the rest of my wardrobe were suits. “Before bed, I meditate and take tea. Care to join me?” “Do I have to wear a dress?” “No.” “Do you wear this every night?” “Yes.” “Is this what you sleep in?” His mischievous smile charmed me. He was acting like a kid jabbing at an old man. “I don’t sleep in clothes.” His pupils consumed his hazel iris’s. If I were a lesser man, I would have told him to close his mouth before drool spilled out. But I was humble and subtle. I filled the tea pot with water and put it on the burner. I gathered my set on a tray and turned around. Liam’s eyes snapped up. His cheeks blazed red. His admiration put me in a dark mood. Off limits. I told myself he was comparing himself. Not admiring me. “Would you like to join me?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ve got a report to finish.” He patted the papers before him. I was a distraction. “Is that a no? You would like to join me, but you have other obligations needing your attention?” “Yes.” He had been giving me half answers and changing subjects all night. He needed to understand that I expected honesty. Full disclosure. Yes, he had a private life and things he wanted to keep to himself, but with me—unacceptable. He could not hide from me. “Liam, when I ask a question, I would like for you to answer me truthfully. Do not use avoidance tactics.” He shifted back in his chair. “Yes sir.” “I want to know your likes and dislikes. This is how I get to know someone. Please, my name is Kai. I work for a living. I am no noble. I am no sir.” “Yes…Kai.” “Good.” I nodded took the kettle off the burner and put it on my tray. “Goodnight.” I carried my ritual set back to the tea room where I tried mercilessly to not recall his blown-out eyes filled with desire and strove to reach a state of mindless calm. I was unsuccessful.  That's it for today! Happy reading! ~ Stephy  BlurbLady Eleanor Russell needed a husband. Immediately. With her father’s death imminent and no male heir to be found, her ancestral home, with its famous Thoroughbred racing stable and 100,000 acres of surrounding villages and tenant farms, would revert to the Crown. But no man in his right mind would choose an unattractive, outspoken, thirty-year-old spinster of strong opinions and stubborn independence to be his bride. Well, she’d buy a husband—and send him on his way. An impoverished third son of a duke, Lord Miles Everleigh, tall, elegant and immensely handsome, relied on the generosity of his friends and the kindness of wealthy widows to keep himself clothed, housed and fed. That he was well-spoken and congenial won him acceptance into the highest of social circles—and into the beds of the most influential women. But his was a lifestyle that wore on a man’s self-respect; he was not the male whore his step-brother had named him. When Lady Eleanor Russell “bought” Lord Miles Everleigh as a husband, she never intended to lose her heart. When he accepted her proposal, Lord Miles never imagined he’d want more from Lady Eleanor than her money. Book TrailerInside ScoopThere are three brothers, so there will be three books. They follow the same story line but each brother will have his own book. Only the first in the series will be a "stand alone"... however, A Husband for Hire ends with a bit of a cliff hanger. This is Patricia's first time writing Regency/Historical Romance but she's a long-time reader. Author BioErotic Romance ~ calorie-free, guilty pleasures you will indulge in again and again. Patricia A. Knight is the pen name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas surrounded by her horses, dogs and the best man on the face of the earth – oh yeah, and the most enormous bullfrogs you will ever see. Word to the wise: don’t swim in the pool after dark. She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached at: http://www.patriciaaknight.com. She also loves email and can be reached at [email protected].  My Review Not one boring moment in this book. I wouldn't call it fast paced, but I wouldn't call it slow paced either. This is the Goldie locks of books. The author puts amazing, tireless effort researching the time period and presenting wonderful characters, complete with accurate language in a seamless story. It had me entertained through the night. The beautiful words! This is a book in which every word counts. Not only that, but I learned new words from an older time. Technically, this is not Victorian or Regency but this historical runs along that vein. The description of dress put me in a time and place like no other. I was surrounded by this book. For the time I read it, I was Rutledge, the manor and town Eleanor called home. The author proves her research in the back of the book with a glossary of terms, an explanation of what the times were like and other goodies I found interesting. She really knows her stuff! Here's the important stuff you want to know: The strong female lead has many likable and relatable qualities. The charming hero has a background to make the conditions of the marriage for money feasible. There is no cheating. The hero likes Eleanor for who she is. This has a happy ending and there is more to come. There are sex scenes so it's not recommended for people under eighteen years of age. There is only mutual sexual consent that is exquisitely done and the sex is not overly graphic. While the book is a stand-alone and Eleanor and Miles have their happy ending, the book ends with a cliff hanger for the next book in the series which will undoubtedly be the oldest son, Duncan. I Recommend this to Readers of:Regency Romance Historical Romance Strong Women Dashing Dukes Wordsmiths ExcerptExcerpt of A Husband for Hire by Patricia A. Knight © Patricia A. Knight Chapter One London, late February 1814 “These are the best marital prospects you can discover? In all of London?” The Lady Eleanor Constance Russell, sole offspring of The Right Honorable Earl of Rutledge and The Right Honorable Countess of Rutledge slapped the sheet of paper she’d been reading down on top of the mahogany desk and bestowed on her London barrister the look of a woman at her wit’s end. Grief for her dying parents and a sense of utter desperation had driven her to actions she considered borderline insanity. If she accepted any of the names on this list, she might as well rent rooms in Bedlam. Eleanor fought the hysteria surging in her breast and tried for a more cajoling tone. “Surely you can come up with more worthy candidates?” The barrister who had served her family for the last forty years sat immobile in his great chair, hunkered down behind his great desk, his hands steepled in front of his narrow-lipped mouth. “This was no small task you set before me, Lady Russell. We are at war with France. Many of our most eligible men fill our army and navy.” Her troubled gaze swung outward. Outside the windows of Elsington & Elsington, the London hansom cabs clopped past in the traffic-clogged street. Everyone had business to conduct it seemed. With a heavy sigh, she returned to the issue that had torn her away from the bedside of her failing but beloved parents and the celebrated stud farm into which she’d poured twenty-plus years of her life. Her eyes flicked to the sheet in front of her, and she jabbed at it with an index finger. “Sir Clive Wellery. Fifty-six years of age, just interred his fourth wife, has no property of worth, eleven dependents ranging in age from two months to twenty-two years, known for a propensity to overindulge in spirits and gambling, currently renting a six-bedroom house in Bloomsbury.” She shuddered and whispered, “Eleven children.” Her eyes rose and gazed at the gentleman across the desk from her then dropped back to the paper. “Lord Hilary Vance. Sixty-four years of age, of no property or spouse. No dependents, an unfortunate victim of the ‘China disease.’” She cleared her throat. “I understand there is no opium den he does not frequent.” The barrister sat motionless in his chair and gave her a disapproving frown. She rolled her eyes. “I am thirty-years-old, sir. I’m not an ignorant debutante.” “I disapprove of your unorthodox education, Ma’am. It did you a great disservice, and so I told your father.” You old fusspot. Eleanor swallowed her retort and returned her gaze to the page on the desk. “And then there is Sir Aubrey Dedham… really, Mr. Elsington? Really? The fellow lives at the molly houses.” She frowned as her barrister stirred awkwardly in his high-backed chair. “Did you think I didn’t know the meaning of the term? How am I supposed to persuade a sodomite into marriage with a woman when he is not inclined toward women in the first place?” She scowled. “Though perhaps my possessing no feminine attributes is a recommendation.” “Lady Russell, please…” Eleanor held up a gloved hand. “Stop. I know what you are going to say. £30,000 will make any man blind. And this last entry.” She sighed and relaxed her upright spine for one moment before resuming her erect posture and folding her hands in her lap. “This last marital candidate.” She could feel the heat climb her neck into her cheeks at the thought of a man that elegant ever giving her a second look and if he did… she’d probably turn and flee. “The Lord Miles Everleigh, twenty-five, the third of four sons, whose eldest brother is the new Duke of Chelsony. I understand Lord Miles lives on the charity of “friends” in return for his convivial companionship and educated guidance on the purchase of fine bloodstock. What could induce…” She closed her eyes and fought back the tears that threatened. How had she come to this? Was she going to go through with an action that in her more rational moments caused her to lose the contents of her stomach? In short, yes. The alternative was even more appalling. One thought of the manor house with its 100,000 acres of attached properties and villages all peopled with men and women who relied on her family for their livelihood... the thought of all this reverting to the Crown because of some quirk in the laws of primogeniture? Accompanying the loss would be the upheaval and complete displacement of the lovely Thoroughbred mares and stallions of impeccable breeding whose pedigrees she could recite to the nth generation and all their offspring, in short, the entire racing stud she’d helped her father make so fabulously successful. Well, it was enough to make anyone cry. Despite having three torturous seasons on the marriage mart ten years ago, no eligible man—there’d been numerous made ineligible by virtue of being unacceptable to her parents or unacceptable to her—had stepped forward with an offer to make her his wife. All the wealth and property she would bring with her was insufficient incentive to overcome her plain features, awkward deportment and utter lack of the slightest feminine attribute, so… she’d have to buy a husband—and soon. With no male heir, upon the death of her father, the estate, and all its entailed properties would be subject to the peregrinations of escheat. “Mr. Elsington…please. What could possibly recommend me to Lord Miles Everleigh? Even rusticating as I have been, I hear the on-dits about the ever-so-handsome and sophisticated Lord Miles Everleigh. There will always be other options for a man like this, much better options than a gawky plank of an ape-leader with shriveled social skills who reeks of the stables and is his senior by five years.” The man across from her cleared his throat. “My lady…if I may be allowed…” He looked over his pince-nez. “The marriage agreement that you have required me to draw up demands a gentleman of a certain …” He shifted uncomfortably. “Ah…” “Let me assist you. The word you want is desperation. It wants a gentleman who has reached a point of desperation. Well, Mr. Elsington, find more candidates. This week. I’m running out of time.” “Err, yes, Lady Russell. Quite.” His eyes softened. “How is your father, my lady?” Eleanor dropped her eyes and fought for composure until she was sure she could speak without succumbing to tears. “The physicians tell me, ‘at most a few months’. He could go at any time.” “My sincere regrets, ma’am. Lord Rutledge is a fine gentleman.” With a murmur of thanks, she inhaled and rose to her full height. Mr. Elsington was not a short man, but as he stood to escort her out, she topped him by a full head, reminding her yet again of her abysmal lack of any physical feature possessed by an even a moderately desirable woman. She hardened her jaw as she marched out of the law offices to her waiting carriage. There was no point in dwelling on a source of immense hurt that her adoring parents and formidable fortune hadn’t protected her from, nor the reasons for her present desperate action. She decided on the instant to go to the one place in all of London where she’d always felt at home regardless of the strictures of polite society and Richard Tattersal’s distinct lack of welcome for those of her sex. “Take me to Tattersalls, John. They have advertised some young breeding stock I want to inspect. We need some outside lines to cross on Dare To Dream.” “Yes, your ladyship.” With a tip of his beaver brim, he helped her into the carriage and climbed onto the box. At John Coachman’s instruction, the groom stepped away from the leaders, sprang to the back of the carriage and the team of beautifully matched bays stepped smartly away.  Princess by mannequin-atelier In the last chapter, Jack was staring off at an impromptu time towards a young woman in the crush. Her name is Faye and the above is an illustration I found that represents her. I don't have a lot of visualizations of Faye. It might be because I see her so clearly that I don't need a visual aide. Under her subdued vibe is courage and a willingness to please. In future installments she displays her zeal to try new things with our Prince. Much to Jack's surprise he is eager to show her *ahem* things. I wanted to portray Faye as innocent but not gullible. At first she goes along with Jack but she's quick to stop and tell him what's not acceptable. While I edit and rewrite this story I could never publish this. It wouldn't fly. It's whimsical and not to be taken seriously as a historical at all. But there are some aspects I like about it. For instance, I wanted to have some fun with BDSM-ish relationships but I understand some people back away slowly from anything with that stigmata. This isn't a whips and chains story. It's a power exchange. But that's not the right word for it either. Neither one or the other person has "all the power". It's more of a I like this, do you like that? situation. One partner takes conscious control of their exploration. It might seem like a "normal" relationship (and it is) but Jack & Faye get into some kink. Voyeurism. Boundary pushing. Relationship testing. Things adventurous couples like to explore. So if you like to explore... and don't mind a fantasy regency type romance, this might interest you!  If you are completely lost, and this is your first time here, you might want to start from the beginning. I suggest clicking on "Jack the Bodice Ripper" under the CATEGORIES on the right hand side of the screen. Or clicking the button below to start at the beginning. For the rest of you...enjoy! This is a FREE internet story for my fans. This is a fantasy somewhat historical called "Jack the Bodice Ripper" © S.N.McKibbenNo part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted without written prior permission from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, incidents and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence. If you find any grammar, spelling or punctuation errors, please let know via the comments!! I may not get to them right away, but I will get to them. Thank you! Jack the Bodice RipperChapter 2 I think it’s time for you to give me my birthday present.” My mother’s wicked smile held trouble. I bowed, taking her bejeweled hand and gave her ring a kiss. “Of course, my queen.” Every year since I could talk, my mother’s gifts from me were always something substantial. A ring, a necklace, a horse—anything I saw that took her fancy. A son showing appreciation for his mother. Since it became just the two of us, our tradition was that she would be given two gifts. One I choose and one she named for herself. After father died, I didn’t want her to go without her second gift. Strange thinking for a child, but it was my way of compensating her for the loss… and mine. When I was five, she asked me for a kiss on the cheek. Last year, the year of my nineteenth summer, I “gifted” her my alcoholic abstinence. Three hundred and sixty-five days without liquid courage. Lately, these requests were always things “good” for me. As she turned back to the banister, I cringed. Today’s gift would go via public announcement. “This year my son gives me his best gift to date.” Her wide smile cast upon the crowd. “The most eligible bachelor in Allsveil will end his reign.” “Here it comes,” I groaned under my breath. Sexual abstinence seemed fitting. At least I could have alcohol again. “Tonight, my son shall choose a bride.” Whirling at mother I hissed, “What?” She ignored me. “All eligible ladies will be considered.” “Tonight?” My anger barely contained. “Tonight! Not tomorrow, not next month? Tonight?” She turned a sly smile to me and waved a hand at the crush below. “You have four hours to choose.” Shocked I blurted, “No.” She lifted an eyebrow. “You refuse?” Careful, I cautioned myself. She didn’t often mix royal duties with motherhood but the pressure of social constraints and social power danced with light toes and a heavy heart. She meant what she said. The queen had priorities to marry who she deemed a good pairing. Her choice was fortuitous to most couples. Still, her forcing the issue, and publicly, was downright vicious. “What have I done to displease you?” The Queen lifted an eyebrow. “Hopefully by next year you’ll have a legitimate heir and I won’t have to worry…” “Low blow, Mother.” My hands balled into fists. “I’ve—” “Gone through every woman in the county.” “That is my business.” “You’ve sown your oats.” Her tone dangerously commanding. “Time to choose.” Face flushing, I was nine once more. “So I have to choose, now?” Mother sniffed and looked me up and down. “These women are of fine families, and I made sure to invite every single one of them.” Thankfully the banister was there to hold me upright. My head swirled. If I didn’t retain my wits I might find myself married in the morning if I passed-out. “My pick?” Sounding resigned, my mind raced. Operative word being sounding. It was Mother. My queen. My liege. My last living relative asking me to fill the family tree. Custom dictated she order me to a wife of her choosing. I knew why she was doing this. She was right, but, I wasn’t ready so soon. “Yes, your pick. Do you want my recommendation?” I glared at her. My choice was something. I feared what she might consider a perfect pairing for her son. “No,” I answered petulant as a five year old. She shrugged. “Very well then. But if you don’t choose by the end of the night, I will.” Heat flamed my cheeks. It was her prerogative to select my wife. In reality, mother was very good at seeing into people. She probably had a better chance of matching me with someone I might like. But, she might not match me up with someone who shared my carnal tastes. Since I had a new gift to give her and my abstinence was over, I grabbed a filled glass nearby and downed the scotch. After a year without a drop of hard liquor, the drink went straight to my head. Pounding little hammers beat from the inside of my skull. That was enough alcohol for tonight. Half of my mind went into overdrive trying to find a way out of this circumstance. Warm honey eyes looked up at me and all thought scattered like so many leaves in the wind. Sir Ahibodeau carted the beauty holding my interest as a chaperon. Feeling my time growing short, I bade my mother a bow and a happy birthday and plunged down the stairs. Both Adillo sisters rushed towards me. Wonderful girls, they were. The ladies were twins that shared everything, including their men. My night with the both of them had been an unforgettable one. But they were also mischievous and always tried to find a way out of their bindings. They succeeded a few times. After a maddening chase down the palace halls, I knew Mother wouldn’t approve of either girl. I was not so low to choose out of spite. Now that I was the one trying to gnaw out of the ropes of sociability I’d rather do more time tied in hemp ropes. “Jack!” Maria, the taller twin, smiled. “Why not a two for one?” I skimmed my hair with a rake of fingers and gave them a grin. “Ah, thank you ladies, but, I still have tonight to pick.” Dorthea Adillo, the shorter one grabbed my arm. “We could have so much fun, think about it.” They both giggled. Looking at them made me feel so old. Two bubbly women. Two of the most unsubmissive Obiediants I’d ever worked with. How would that go? Could I live like that? No. Paul, Mother’s aide, made his way down the stairs. I took that opportunity to excuse myself. “Ladies, I have to consult Paul for a moment.” He heard me and turned my way. Bless him. Paul’s watery eyes, and wrinkled features was one of the only non-threatening faces in the room. Every woman I saw either was a potential restriction or a potential trap. Some men with daughters eyed me in wary concern. Most men, at the prospect of having royalty as an in-law, brought their daughters front and center. They were finding ways to close in. “Your mother seems set on her gift this year.” His milky eyes twinkled as though he were ten years younger. “Do I look that desperate to get out of it?” Paul smiled sharp and quick. “I don’t think I could talk her out of it.” I sighed. “She’s been set on it for a while.” “Hints have been dropped over the months.” He noded with somber reserve. Our comrade and adviser was a stoic man and he would never admit defeat. Especially not from his post as Queen’s Guard, but as I observed his slight slouch, and his quiver hands… perhaps mother wasn’t just thinking of her golden years with grandchildren. “Are you ready to teach another generation?” I set a gentle hand on his shoulder. The old man straightened and pulled on his weskit. “I think one more.” He nodded again with gravitas. “Yes, one more.” My heart softened for the battle axe. No other would match his like. The warm honey-eyed beauty passed behind him and caught my eye. She stood demure one step in Sir Ahibodeau’s shadow. I turned my back to her and pointed a thumb trying not to draw attention to the fact that I did not know a potential Lady of high pedigree. “Paul, who is that woman behind Sir Ahibodeau?” He brushed his coat sleeve and craned his head. “That’s Lady Fayola Ahibodeau. She’s his daughter.” Paul grinned. “She’s available. But, Sir Ahibodeau is aware of your—indiscretions. I don’t think he approves.” “He doesn’t need to approve—” “Young man…” Paul soured his voice and narrowed his eyes. For a moment I thought he would flatten me on the tile. “You are not a God. You serve the people. Approval is what you should be thinking about. Not floundering about, ruining girls for the next man.” I knew when to shut my mouth. But pride jabbed me in the gut. “I have not fostered any bastards.” “That you know of.” Exasperated, I threw up my hands. “Do you have any advice for me?” Paul cast his eyes away. “When you find her, don’t let her go.” “Yeah, but how do I find her in four hours?” 
 SynopsisJustice, and the enforcement of it, has changed. In the 22nd century, Japan enforces the Sibyl System, an objective means of determining the threat level of each citizen by examining their mental state for signs of criminal intent, known as their Psycho-Pass. Inspectors uphold the law by subjugating, often with lethal force, anyone harboring the slightest ill-will; alongside them are Enforcers, jaded Inspectors that have become latent criminals, granted relative freedom in exchange for carrying out the Inspectors' dirty work. Into this world steps Akane Tsunemori, a young woman with an honest desire to uphold justice. However, as she works alongside veteran Enforcer Shinya Kougami, she soon learns that the Sibyl System's judgments are not as perfect as her fellow Inspectors assume. With everything she has known turned on its head, Akane wrestles with the question of what justice truly is, and whether it can be upheld through the use of a system that may already be corrupt.  My Interpretation of the SynopsisIn the 22nd century, justice has changed. Most definitely. Newly minted Inspector, Akane, works with a rogue force of "criminals" who use special guns to track and catch... criminals. Catch a criminal with a criminal. Only the guns are computers connected to an internet of things called Sibyl. Okay, first Sibyl? Really? That can't be bad. Let's look at the definition of Sibyl. A woman in ancient times supposed to utter the oracles and prophecies of a god. In reality, Sibyl is a freaking crazy person. Compacted with the fact that few knew what the hell she was talking about in the first place. We get it. Sibyl. Okay, moving on. So Sibyl is judge, jury and executioner. Sibyl holds peoples lives in its calculation of whether you are a good or bad person. How? Fuck if I know. The main character points a gun at people and Sibyl gives a rating then pulls the trigger. Sometimes Sibyl pulls the trigger on a person and hell if I know why, thus unreliable judgement. Or maybe Sibyl wants to get rid of people who know the truth. But there is one person whose found a way to jack the system and he's out to open people's eyes--how? Terrorism.  Main Characters
Supporting Characters
 There are other supporting characters but... I found them fill-ins for the story. You get to know them and their background in the first few episodes but while interesting, doesn't move the plot forward. I found it fluff for the main plot. Themes I caught in this series:
 ReviewThis police procedural, dystopian, futureistic crime mystery has beautiful artwork, good music and a descent story. It reminds me of Ghost in the Shell and has twists in the same vein. I understood the message it portrayed and would happily write a one-off fan-fic for Pshyco-Pass. Word of warning... it is gory. Exploding men, bodies everywhere. Blood. Guts. Torture. It's sub-genre is horror. Really, this is a dystopian, futuristic, sci-fi, police procedural, mystery, horror fiction anime. The thought experiment of this anime is what really gripped me. Don't let the meandering beginning episodes lead you astray. It's worth it. In other words, if you're looking for a beautifully penned anime with future/dystopian setting a thought experiment and cops, this is the one for you!  I would Recommend this to Fans of:Dystopian Utopian Societies futuristic Sci-fi plot twists cop procedural's cop procedural's in the future characters who love old books Gore Horror  |
Welcome to The Enclave Thanks for taking a look at my little hodgepodge of a blog. The format and subjects of my blog has changed through the years as it's my log of S.N.McKibben's writing journey. You've now been sufficiently forewarned, happy reading! Categories
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