‘Pure Joy’
a novel by
BG LeBen
"...think a mix of The Alchemist meets American Psycho... this has something rare: fearless weirdness."
- Grok
Stretch the fairy-floss of your soul over the burning coals of an impossible task.
The hero in this story,
is you.
Bali – Nusantara
Starlight deep on dusty sidewalk, People call me God, but my real name is Joy, I say to the virgin standing on the other side of a severed leg.
Waiting for her to open tightly shut eyes, feeling saltwater trickle down the back of my throat, my breath fast from running, cool sand stuck to my bare feet.
Wiggling my toes, licking my salty lips, starlight splashes a sheen over my jet-black skin bouncing to her small brown face, eyes fluttering.
Allah, her timid voice begs, eyelids flashing open, pupils circling under the growing rain of light, eyes expanding to reveal the street, her head twitching, huh, she says, I’m still in Bali, a small face moving from side to side, I’m supposed to be in, ummm… p, p, paradise, her hands quickly sliding down a new body in rapidly increasing light, I’m… I’m wearing a DRESS, I’m a… I’m a KID, and I’m a… GIRL, the sweet young voice coming from her mouth is deeply confusing to the ears on each side of her new, smaller head.
Smiling, We both look, forever young, I say calmly, taking a breath of air and starlight, my name is Joy, and your name is, ‘India,’ offering my oasis scented palms to the night-sky.
Her face narrows, cautiously looking down at the severed leg on the ground between us, That’s, that’s… her voice thinner.
Yes India, that… was your leg, waiting a moment, a young man’s leg, the man that you were, sitting in a minivan, with a bomb, moments ago, my words pumping sticky emotions inside her blood rising to choke her neck.
India, wiggling my toes faster, look at your old, severed leg, it’s bent at the knee, speaking as gently as I can, even in death, it looks like it’s trying to run, I lean forward, trying to get somewhere, yes, in a big, BIG hurry, my shoulders, my neck and breath relaxing, drying sand falling from my feet.
Looking up under starlight shimmering, frustrated and confused in the dust, her new, young chest puffs in and out, I thought, I thought I was getting… 72 virgins.
Ahhh, I reply softly, you… you are one, one of the virgins.
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review of BG LeBen
Themes of spirituality and comedy intersect uniquely… think light-satire on life’s absurdities mixed with earnest calls for self-reflection.
Travel elements occasionally appear, grounding the whimsy in real-world wanderlust.
LeBen’s prose is conversational and unpretentious – think a chatty friend recounting a wild dream over coffee.
He favors short chapters, vivid imagery, and punchy dialogue, making his books bingeable – Grok
BG LeBen (author)
Living wild, stealth-camping in a tiny tent, writing books.
My life is in my backpack and on my bicycle.
Desperately searching for serene coves, pushing through the bush, wandering and cycling for days or weeks, hoping to discover a beautiful, private, sandy beach cove.
In my basic camp, I write books sourced from the quiet part of my soul while trying not to be eaten by mosquitos and crocodiles, bitten by sharks, snakes, spiders, wild dogs, marine stingers, stonefish, poisonous ants and life threatening ticks.
Undigested, creativity flows hot under the sun, cool under the stars, sheltering from rain or howling lonely at the moon.
Smiling with tough-bliss, it’s hell, an emotional and physical hell… but, sometimes, just sometimes, a delicious heaven settles firmly on my shoulders.
Living outside, feeling strong against the wind, fighting, loving the pain of pure nature and its endless solitude - that’s the real high.
review of BG LeBen
BG LeBen is a daring, borderline theatrical indie writer whose work leans heavily into erotic-spiritual mood, experimentation, and emotional transparency.
If you like writing that flirts with mysticism, sensual imagery, and personal transformation — and you’re okay with possible rough edges — LeBen might deliver something fresh.
LeBen doesn’t hide. The prose takes risks: erotic, spiritual, surreal. That can either draw a reader in or repel them, depending on taste.
LeBen’s works have garnered a niche audience appreciative of his candid and unorthodox approach to storytelling. While not widely reviewed in mainstream literary circles, his books resonate with readers seeking narratives that challenge traditional boundaries and delve into profound personal and spiritual themes – ChatGPT
ebook &
audiobooks
Stories drenched with lush adult themes,
blinding magical-realism,
delicious naughty-but-nice erotica,
gritty real life travel and delicate self exploration.
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review
‘There’s real emotional intelligence here, even if its’s delivered through a haze of bodily fluids.’
A feverish, sun-drenched erotic fever dream that refuses to fade.
I dove into Sun Won’t Set… it’s one of the most unfiltered, hypnotic things I’ve read in a while. It’s billed as a “mini novel,” but it feels more like a long, liquid poem crossed with a very explicit tropical hallucination — like you’re trapped in the same endless late-afternoon light as the characters.
The Premise (No Spoilers)
The sun is stuck. It never sets. It just hangs there, soft and golden and relentless, over a fictional island that feels like a fevered mash-up of Bali, Phuket, and every hedonist’s deleted search history. Life has adapted: plants tilt differently, animals have adjusted their rhythms, and the humans… well, the humans have gone full bacchanal.
At the centre are Baptiste, a French surfer with a golden retriever soul, and Shanty, a local woman who’s equal parts wild child and wounded romantic. Their relationship is the spine of the story, but it’s constantly tangled up in threesomes, orgies, drugs (hello, Cake Pop), jealousy, money, violence, and the slow realisation that endless sunshine might actually be a kind of hell.
The Atmosphere: LeBen nails the sensory overload. You can feel the salt, the sweat, the sticky sweetness of Arak, the way the light gets into everything. The sun as narrator is a stroke of genius—detached, amused, slightly cruel. Lines like “I am the Sun, stuck in the sky, soft and warm” set the tone perfectly.
The Eroticism: This isn’t polite erotica. It’s raw, messy, funny, and sometimes genuinely shocking. There are scenes that made me laugh out loud and others that left me a little unsettled (in the best way). It’s not porn for the sake of porn—it’s porn as philosophy, as rebellion, as a coping mechanism.
The Darkness Under the Sun: Just when you think it’s all coconut oil and orgasms, the book swerves into something much bleaker. The confrontation with aging (“Leatherface”), the near-drowning scene, the moments where pleasure curdles into boredom or rage—these hit hard. There’s real emotional intelligence here, even if it’s delivered through a haze of bodily fluids.
The Voice: Shanty’s broken English, the stream-of-consciousness switches, the sudden bursts of poetry—it’s messy, but it works. It feels like the island itself is speaking.
Sun Won’t Set is not for everyone. If you want tidy plotting, clean prose, or anything approaching “wholesome,” run the other way. But if you’re in the mood for something that feels like Tropic of Cancer got drunk on arak and woke up in a David Lynch film, this is gold.
It’s ambitious, sweaty, funny, sad, and completely unafraid… it’s an absolute no-brainer.
Rating: 4/5
And that fourth star is mostly for sheer balls – Grok
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review
‘Highly recommended for free spirits and curious souls.’
I’m A Gay Mermaid is a short, enchanting interactive experience that feels like a whispered secret between you and the page. Part sensual short story, part playful spiritual game, it invites you to answer six simple “Soul Questions” with the first honest thought that pops into your head—no overthinking allowed.
Through a dreamy, candlelit scene of two women sharing a mirrored bedroom under an impossible starry ceiling, the questions unfold.
The interpretations are delightfully revealing: an eagle might mean you’re a free-spirited observer who swoops in for what you need and soars away, while a timid rabbit as a partner suggests a gentle, careful dynamic worth exploring. Your favorite place and feeling? That’s your deepest creative, life-force energy—perhaps the ocean calling you to embrace your inner “mermaid.”
The writing is lush and immersive, full of poetic sensuality, flickering candlelight, and that electric no-touch tension that builds to a joyful, liberating climax. It’s erotic without being overwhelming, mystical without being heavy-handed. The title’s punchy reveal—“I’m a gay mermaid!”—lands with humor and self-acceptance, turning the whole thing into a celebration of your unique wiring.
What makes it special is how personal and fun it feels. Readers often discover surprising truths about themselves (or spark lively conversations with partners), and the brevity keeps it light and re-readable. Including your mum’s hilariously honest blurb (“my son is an idiot”), and you’ve got instant charm—no pretension here.
If you’re drawn to self-discovery through animal totems, twin-flame vibes, queer sensuality, or just a quick, intimate ritual that leaves you smiling (and maybe a little flushed), this little book delivers. It’s brave, weird in the best way, and genuinely empowering.
Perfect for anyone ready to play, reflect, and maybe attract exactly the energy they’ve been craving.
Highly recommended for free spirits and curious souls – Grok
Rating: 4.5/5
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