Confessions of a Caped Crusader (CCC) takes the superhero genre and reimagines it for the social media age. Filled with sex, violence, and droll sarcasm, CCC is an unflinching look at the man behind the mask. Confessions is the unfiltered journal of the flawed hero that has inspired some of today’s greatest pop culture icons.
In the aftermath of a massive prison break, the caped hero must battle a rogues’ gallery of his most dangerous foes. Complicating matters, he has been poisoned by an unseen enemy and only has days to find the antidote. A series of events has been set in motion that will force the masked avenger to confront his inner demons and come to terms with his own mortality.
Targeted Audience: Adult cosplayers, superhero fans, 18 to 65
DF Lawrence is a writer and director. Recent film work includes, "The Flying Tigers – the 14th Air Force," "BRUTAL" a mix martial arts science fiction film and "East Meets West" a documentary featuring students from the world famous Laizhou Zhonghua Martial Arts School.
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
Fan of the superhero genre. Wanted to create something a little more adult and fun, than the current offerings.
Read more, including a sample from the book
Sample from Book:
Woke up lying in my own vomit. Not exactly the heroic image my biographer Robert writes about in his books.
Head’s throbbing and the boys are not letting me forget I let them down. Twenty goons – no problem. One hot villainess in leather, and suddenly I’m getting my ass kicked. Need to stop thinking with the wrong head.
Lucky to be alive. Can’t believe I fell for the oldest move in the book. Note to self – get a better cup.
The suit’s in bad shape, probably totaled. The Old Man is gonna be pissed.
Checking the area for clues. Not much to go on. The Cat left one of the rocks she jacked behind. She’s yanking my chain. Not sure what her game is. But I better figure it out fast.
Flashing memories. Bruce is excited, and the boys are aching, horny thinking about her. Pheromones? Residual effects of getting owned? Not exactly the “always in control” demigod my biographer makes me out to be.
Sun’s coming up. A guy in tights wearing a pointy-eared cowl doesn’t exactly blend in. Need to get the hell out of here.
Every step a painful reminder of a long night. The Old Man says losing builds character. I’m not buying it.
Where the hell did I park the car? Need to find it fast, before I get stuck in the morning commute in a fire-spewing supercar.
Cold, exhausted, sore – the car heater feels good. Opening her up on the back roads. Last ten miles are always the longest. Wish I had autopilot to get home.
Need sleep. Gotta be at the office in a few hours. Gonna play the out-all-night- party-boy role again. I need to come up with a good line to explain the busted lip and black eye.
I was a rank amateur out there tonight. Got handed my ass by a girl. Not great for the ego.
Back at the cave. Recap the night with the Old Man. Long, hot shower. Breakfast. And then bed. Sounds like a good plan.
Shower feels good, washing the night away. Muscles are starting to relax. Well, most of them, anyway. Sporting a raging hard-on. The boys are still tender. I need to play gentle for awhile.
Jesus that was fast. I came like a twelve-year-old who’s just discovering what his dick can do.
Headache is finally going away. Gotta be a correlation.
Bruce wants more. Not much time. The old man will be pounding on the door any second with breakfast. I can get one more in. Need to concentrate…
Robert would be horrified. In his world, I’m too busy saving the world to jerk off. Dogma demands that superheroes are virginal. We fall in love, only to have that love denied to us. It’s one of the seven scripts Hollywood loves to recycle. Too bad it’s bullshit.
Fuck, I hate alarm clocks.
Didn’t sleep well, was wired, couldn’t shut down. When I finally did pass out, I woke up an hour later humping my pillow. Can’t remember what I was dreaming about, but it must’ve been good, cause I left a stain.
Putting on my daytime costume. Nice to be wearing something that doesn’t confine so much. Skipping the underwear today.
The Old Man hates it when I free-ball-it in a three-thousand-dollar Armani, but he doesn’t have to wear tights with body armor all night long. The boys like the freedom, and Bruce is always much happier when he’s got room to roam.
Robert likes to write about my playboy persona. It’s probably the only part of his writings that are even close to the truth.
Having serious buyer’s remorse about letting Robert write my story. Thought I could use him to control what the world thinks of me. Not sure it’s working out the way I planned. No way I can ever live up to the legend he’s creating.
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