Marcus van Heller's (John Stevenson's), account of a boy and a girl, innocent and in Eve's case somewhat frigid, who flee the countryside for London, him to be a painter, her an actress. Along the way, she trades her innocence for a career, with sometimes disastrous results, he gets caught up in the ecstastic arts scene, the two part, until finally reuniting in an earth-shattering conclusion.
Marcus Van Heller (John Stevenson) wrote this book for Olympia in 1961. The work presents detective Nick Harding, and wraps a thriller between amorous adventures and recollections of same.
The fake Marcus, an Olympia house name in the '60s, is here with one of his finest works. One sliver of gold to encircle them all; and unceasing sex to bind them. A bored housewife is shocked to discover the change in herself when her husband's throw-away gift sends a rush of longing into her mid-section. But the ring is powerful, so much so that no man or woman can wear it for long before dying of exhaustion.
Not to be included in the canon of Hellerotica, as laid down by Patrick Kearney, our sacred bibliographer. Still this work, part of Girodias' revival of the van Heller name for the late '60s Ophelia line, is an impressive account of a Hollywood star, marooned in England, imprisoned by hypocrites, sexually abused, who makes a comeback with his wits and physical gifts, educating various female members of the populace on the right way to do things, achieving his revenge in legendary fashion. True, the author himself is British like Jenn Crowell was worthy, but it's still a van Heller and merits attention.
The in-house Marcus sets his sights on wiseguys and wannabees, in a novel replete with approximations of the old school dialogue, and not a little bit of drugs, sex and violence.
One of the rarest of the later van Hellers, possibly only a TC edition. It's the story of the physical and emotional wanderings of a young woman, and the many, many partners she meets along the way.
Three grunts on a wild drunken jaunt, away from the pressures of war, and right smack dab into the joys of booze and women in a non-stop rollicking, sensuous tale, one recounted in exacting detail.
Opal made it to the top-but not before she had submitted to the whims and desires, both ecstatic and agonising, of the men who held her fate in their hands.
Duke had a gambling joint, and this joint had many girls--and Ape was there to make sure the girls behaved themselves for the customers. But Duke's beautiful wife had an even more beautiful teen-age sister, and that was the start of their big trouble.
Tale of a young girl who finds herself abducted from the arms of her lover in Paris. She's eventually returned to her family, but not without gaining in experience.
Alvaro's sole desire was to free his people from the dictator's power. There was only one place for him to turn, The Black Caiman, a secret revolutionary guerrilla army. Trying to reach them, he first fell into the hands of Marita, the tall, sensuous black dancer whose mouth both made and fulfilled promises. Then there was Kim, English but definitely not cool, whose luscious body was to both give and receive torment as she worked to help him. And there were others in the secret army who knew there was more to pain than suffering. This is not a book designed for the faint of heart.
A sequel of sorts to the Hard Guys (OPB643). Our hero wants to join the mob, but to get there, he's gotta get through a 14-year-old guy, some time in the slam, and not a few gals of easy virtue.
Shades of Miz Scarlett in this early fake Marcus. Keeping with the original's mastery of historic erotic fiction, Gone With The Whip places us in the Antebellum South, where slaves exist to serve their masters and, during the war, take revenge for generations of suffering.
Bert and Eli are out of jail, ready for action, and willing to do just about anything to handle their pent-up lust. Of course a pair that wild's gonna run afoul of the law eventually, but they know how to handle themselves on the inside as well.
Not for the squeamish: a steaming-hot saga of passion and brutality in the ancient temple of Angkor Wat. Too many people wanted the secrets it held--and none of them gave a damn who got hurt along the way.
House name Marcus borrows a page from the Greta X playbook in this tale of women on the make using sex, violence and cement blocks to get what they want, when they want it. Though a product of the late '60s, this is the kind of book you read if you want to hear of wanton, lascivious women taking what's coming to 'em... and beating the rap.
Early fake van Heller about an Edie-Sedgwick-like socialite who's introduced to her sexuality at the hands of a family maid and rises through her family fortune to become a top socialite and actress. Something of a first-wave feminist, the sympathetic portrayal of young Mandy is one that doesn't quite sync with other accounts in the post-Paris van Heller genre, but still merits a look.
Author van Heller is a legend among writers of erotic fiction, so good that his name and craft were often imitated, but never duplicated. Considered by many to be his finest work, Roman Orgy is a retelling of Spartacus. In this case, our hero is a servant, willful but submissive, until one day when Clodia, his master's wife, lures him into the baths, teases him, makes love to him... and then cries rape after the pair are found out. Forced to become a gladiator, Spartacus survives the coliseum, rallies his fellow men, and they rebel, successfully at first, wreaking their erotic vengeance on the townsfolk.
The oft-imitated but never duplicated Marcus Van Heller (John Stevenson), is back with this fast-paced account of rebellion, Algeria, the National Liberation Front and quite a bit of sex, some of it forced, some of it paid for, some given sweetly.
OFTEN whispered about--but rarely spoken of aloud--the startling theme of this story concerns Carroll, a pretty young widow. She is taken into the household of a friendly couple, only to find that her caresses are sought not only by the husband--but by his wife... Should warm, lovely Carroll be condemned for yielding both to the love of a married man, and the equally ardent embraces of a voluptuous though twisted woman? The answer is not simple. True, Carroll responds to their needs, yet it is a haunted, tortured experience... despite its warped delights, its moments of almost unearthly bliss. Perhaps she is more to be pitied than condemned. For the whole point of this bitterly true novel is that pretty Carroll is the seduced rather than the seducer--the sinned against, rather than the sinner... entirely too attractive for her own good. Out of her own experience, the anonymous author tears the curtain from one of the gravest threats to modern social morality--the strange love practices trapping unwary girls today, particularly in our larger cities!
