Review Tuesday: Juliet's Diary by Giselle Renarde -- #Lesbian #Covid19 #ReviewTuesday

Juliet’s Diary: My Secret Plague Journal by Giselle Renarde

Self-published at Smashwords and Amazon, 2020

Juliet is a nineteen year old college student. She’s spoiled, selfish, lazy, horny, and bored by almost everything, except her girlfriend Romi – whom she met in high school when she was looking for someone to sell her the exam questions. Romi needed the money, but one thing led to another and now Juliet’s head over heels in love, or at least in lust, with her far more experienced lesbian main squeeze. All Juliet wants is to move into the group household Romi shares with her intentional family of queer and trans friends. To stave off this event, her wealthy parents have promised her a big chunk of money and a fancy new car, if she stays at home until she finishes her first year at university. Meanwhile the Covid-19 epidemic is raging, so she’s forbidden to even see the woman who dominates her thoughts. Not that Juliet’s all that likely to obey...

Juliet’s Diary is a vivid and painful journey into the mind of a young woman who is so unlikable she could almost be a parody of how the privileged have dealt with the pandemic – except that Giselle Renarde has made her shockingly believable. Juliet, like most young people, figures she’s in no danger from the virus. Romi, who’s barely surviving economically, knows better. Romi’s housemates have various disabilities that make them especially vulnerable, but they’re all working their tails off trying to stave off eviction.

Juliet is mostly oblivious to their problems. All she cares about is spending time with Romi, having sex with Romi, getting her girlfriend off and vice versa. Meanwhile, the world becomes increasingly alien, with social distancing, panic buying, and ultimately, friends and family dying. Juliet has a hard time adapting, though she half-heartedly tries. She even gets a job in a supermarket, in order to prove to Romi and herself that she’s not useless. She lasts exactly one day.

As you may have gathered, this is not a fun book. One would hardly expect fun from a story sub-titled “My Secret Plague Diary”. At the same time, it’s an impressive book, a historical document that will serve to remind people, in the future, just what the first pandemic of the twenty-first century was like. Juliet might be extreme, but not so extreme that she doesn’t remind me of some people I’ve read about (fortunately, not people I know personally).

Juliet’s Diary is also, perhaps surprisingly, a sexy book. I always find Giselle Renarde’s erotic scenes to be original, visceral and lush. This secret lesbian diary is no exception. The protagonist’s confessional complaints and annoyed musings are punctuated by the infrequent but intense encounters between the two women. Romi becomes increasingly exhausted, barely able to muster a bit of lust, but somehow Juliet’s desire for her never flags.

I don’t think the author penned this book with the market in mind. It’s not a crowd pleaser. In fact, in some ways it’s a very difficult read, especially since we’re still in the midst of the Covid-19 crisis. At the same time, Juliet’s Diary has a sort of brilliant intensity that might take your mind off your own problems.

Review Tuesday: Country Girl, City Lights by Giselle Renarde #ReviewTuesday #romance #magic

 

Country Girl, City Lights by Giselle Renarde

Amazon KDP and Smashwords, 2020

When Matt, supposedly the love of her young life, moves away from their small Canadian town to the big city, Delia follows. She’s convinced he’ll eventually get in touch, that he’ll realize how devoted she is and will finally see that they’re destined to be together. Meanwhile, she gets a job working security at an art gallery. Not only do they pay her peanuts, but the manager bullies her, the gorgeous docent patronizes her, and she’s forced to wear a horrible, baggy, militaristic uniform.

Alone, poverty-stricken and desperately unhappy, Delia has only her unrequited love to sustain her. Then one day she falls asleep in the Roccoco Room of the gallery and finds herself within the landscape of a pastoral scene by Leduc. Furthermore, she’s not alone. In addition to a flock of perfectly delightful sheep, she makes the acquaintance of the handsome shepherd Jacob. Unlike everyone in her real life, Jacob respects her, cares about her, indeed seems to want her. Too bad he’s just a fantasy she’s summoned to escape from her loneliness.

Giselle Renarde has a reputation for kinkiness. She’s responsible for some of the most deliciously filthy erotica I’ve ever read. Her characters always feel genuine; her beautifully written descriptions of sexual acts are always supported by insights into how the participants feel about the process. Country Girl, City Lights proves that she’s equally adept when writing in a romantic mood.

Delia seems very real, her dilemma eminently plausible. Indeed, I have a friend who made the same choice, deluding herself that the man she followed to New York City would eventually wake up and claim her. Though far from stupid, Delia’s like too many women, confusing lust with love and believing that if they only give enough of themselves, the object of their desire will wake up and love them back.

Your heart will ache for Delia, as she blindly pursues her teenage dream. You’ll applaud when she finally comes to understand the true nature of her relationship with Matt. And you’ll close your e-reader, more than satisfied, when she earns a well-deserved though surprising happy ending.

Country Girl, City Lights is a quick read that will leave you with smile, a sweet and sexy romance infused with a hint of magic. I recommend it.

Review Tuesday: Tragic Coolness by Giselle Renarde #poetry #tragiclove #ReviewTuesday

Tragic Coolness by Giselle Renarde

October, 2018

As Tatyana – Tats to her family – and her sister Oka pick berries in their family orchard, two figures approach from the distance. One is Oka’s lover, Len – a transman who has captured blonde lesbian Oka’s heart and imagination. Tagging along is a stranger, Len’s acquaintance Eugene Onegin.

Tats has a strong urge to run. Some intuition warns her that this newcomer will bring tragedy and pain. Before she can escape, however, he has joined them, and she’s lost:

She looked at him, and he looked at her, and her heart nearly exploded. Attractive and poetic. She hadn’t met a man like him since university. Men like this were bad news then, but Tats was older now. Maybe she would handle herself a little better, a little more like an adult and less like an obsessive teen.

Aside from being young and handsome, Eugene is elegant, cultured, cynical, and terminally bored with life. “E is Eugene who died of ennui,” Tats jokes during their first meeting, but she turns out to be right. Her premonition of heartbreak comes to pass as she succumbs to her desperate, visceral attraction. Their incandescent coupling convinces her that she has finally found her soul mate. Eugene, however, is gone when she wakes, leaving her without a word but with (as she discovers later) a most permanent memento: a child growing in her womb.

Eugene’s abandonment tears Tats apart. The next time he shows up, she tries to tell him about her pregnancy, but his clear disinterest in love or family make her hold her tongue. Devastation and death follow Eugene wherever he wanders. After he is responsible for a fatal accident involving his friend Len, he disappears from Tatyana’s life for nearly a decade. When he steps back onto the scene, he discovers that everything has changed – that he now fiercely craves the woman he discarded in the past, but that she is forever beyond his reach.

Giselle Renarde is best known as an author of erotica, often queer or kinky, but her talents are too creative and diverse to be pigeon-holed. Tragic Coolness is a remarkable book, evocative and compelling, unquestionably a literary feat. It is in fact a re-imagining of Alexander Pushkin’s classic verse novel EugeneOnegin, the source of many literary references including Tchaikovsky’s opera of the same name. However, with contemporary allusions and LGBTQ themes, Ms. Renarde has made the material distinctly her own. Still, there are echoes of poetry in the dialogue. The rhythm of the prose owes much to art, and might be expected to distance the reader from the characters, but that does not happen. Tatyana and Eugene remain real and believable despite the deliberate craft evident in the novella’s structure.

After reading Tragic Coolness, I became quite curious about the original. The translations I’ve found thus far have been turgid and opaque, but I have some hope of locating a version that helps me better understand Ms. Renarde’s inspiration.

Tragic Coolness is not a casual book designed primarily for entertainment. The title is apt; the ending is far darker than most erotica or romance readers might like. Nevertheless, I recommend it. It offers a deeper sort of satisfaction that will stay with you after you’ve forgotten your latest happily-ever-afters.

Review Tuesday: Pie Girls and the Very Lonely Man by Giselle Renarde - #bisexual #erotica #ReviewTuesday

Pie Girls and the Very Lonely Man by Giselle Renarde

Smashwords and Amazon KDP, 2019

When mild-mannered accountant Jerry Butler breaks a date so he can go support his mother during a family crisis, Jerry’s girlfriend Tracey throws him out. Instead of sympathy, his mother offers criticism. According to her, he’s nothing but a useless wimp who can’t commit or keep a relationship alive. Jerry makes allowances for his mom; after all, her new husband Walter is on his death bed. Still, he’s feeling pretty lost and lonely when he wanders into the local pie shop. He’s all by himself in a strange town. Though he still has a job in the city, he’ll be homeless when he returns. Tracey has made it clear she intends to keep possession of the apartment they’d shared. His many sisters are wrapped up in their mother’s tragedy. Nobody really cares what happens to Jerry.

Lindy, the curvy proprietrix of the pie shop, serves him the best blueberry pie he’s ever had, then offers him a taste of her own ample flesh as a second dessert. Jerry’s astonished, but not about to refuse her gloriously full body. He doesn’t know what to think, though, when they’re interrupted by a thin, stylish woman who turns out to be Lindy’s wife Alberta. He’s even more confused when Alberta comes on to him, too. Are the two spouses really so out of touch with one another? Or are they conspiring together, using him for their sexual satisfaction while deliberately keeping him off-balance?

I absolutely adored Pie Girls and the Very Lonely Man. The story is funny and touching by turns, filled with original notions and unexpected twists. Jerry’s a sweet, appealing character without a macho bone in his body. He’s as delighted to give pleasure as to receive it. (It occurs to me now that having grown up with lots of sisters may be partly responsible for his generous and female-friendly attitude.) Lindy and Alberta are complicated, both together and individually. Ms. Renarde keeps the reader guessing about their real motives until fairly late in the tale, but eventually we realize that Jerry is just what the two women need to stabilize their fraught relationship.

When writing erotica, it’s tough to avoid repetition and clichés. I am a huge fan of Giselle Renarde’s sex scenes, which always seem creative and fresh. In Pie Girls, she has outdone herself. Jerry’s encounters with Lindy and Alberta are full of delightful surprises. The three-way sex scene demolishes gender stereotypes in a most satisfying way– satisfying both for the reader and the characters.

I highly recommend this sweet, sincere and arousing story. It will leave you hungry for more.

Review Tuesday: Giselle's Best Fetish Erotica (#erotica #kink #ReviewTuesday)

Giselle’s Best Fetish Erotica: 14 Kinky Sex Stories

By Giselle Renarde, 2016

Nobody does kink like Giselle Renarde. She has the wildest imagination when it comes to sexual scenarios; her erotic creativity (not to mention her daring) knows few if any limits. At the same time, she writes so well that she pulls you completely into her tales. You really don’t think about whether the sex is extreme; you’re just wonderfully aroused, as well as (quite often) surprised and delighted by the stories' unexpected resolutions. Her characters, even in her brief vignettes, feel distinctive and real. And her stories feel new, even when the premise is familiar.

If you get the sense that I enjoyed her short story collection, Best Fetish Erotica, you’re right. At the same time, I wonder if the book isn’t mis-titled. While the stories she has assembled here are not vanilla, most of them don’t fit my definition of “fetish”, namely an obsessive sexual preoccupation with a particular object or situation. Some of her characters are playing familiar sexual games, but others are discovering unexpected sexual proclivities for the very first time. Also, the majority of these tales feature individuals who are in established relationships. Often the kinky sex in which they indulge strengthens their emotional bonds. (This is especially true in “The Fattening Room” and “Black Lace and Wood”.) There’s more than a hint of romance in this volume.

On the other hand, if she’d titled the collection “Giselle’s Best Kinky Romance”, she probably would have attracted readers expecting silk scarves and Christian Grey clones. That’s definitely not the vibe here!

The book kicks off with “Night Nurse”, an astonishingly hot cross-dressing story. The incongruous contrast between the protagonist’s burly frame and his female uniform just makes the whole thing more arousing.

Next comes “Massive Attack”, a forced sex fantasy with surprise ending.

I’ve encountered the third story, “Must Love Dolls”, before. That’s not a problem; it is one of my all-time erotica favorites. When a couple orders a high-end sex doll, it transforms and deepens their relationship.

“That’s Not a Scrunchie” is a peculiar but thrilling exploration of female dominance. Don’t expect stilettos and leather; Pella is far more spontaneous and creative.

“A Thief in the Night” deals with sexual improvisation. A fantasy takes an unexpected turn, much to everyone’s eventual satisfaction.

“The Birds and the Bees” offers a riff on exhibitionism. “Don’t Break the Chain” is a very brief, eloquent commentary on a more “traditional” BDSM arrangement.

“The Fattening Room” is another standout. Lily-white Canadian Jeremy is engaged to voluptuous Nigerian Nneka. Though he loves her dearly, he’s terrified of visiting her native country for their wedding. His fiancée teaches him a lesson about the many definitions of beauty. The lush prose and complex emotions in this multi-cultural fable push it well into the realm of literary erotica.

“Black Lace and Wood” shares some features with “The Fattening Room”. It’s also a tale of a committed multi-cultural couple. I didn’t find it as enjoyable, possibly because of the negative feelings swirling around Rebecca’s infidelity and Navin’s stubborn refusal to forgive her. It is kinky, though, and will feel familiar to BDSM romance aficionados.

“In Tooth and Claw” is Giselle Renarde at her gender-bending best. After many negative encounters, the heroine has sworn off men. Yet something attracts her to her effeminate, cross-dressing colleague.

“Crush” offers a femdom scenario that was a bit too harsh for my tastes. Even though I don’t have balls, I find stories of their torture a bit squick-inducing. However, some readers may love it.

“Bless Me Father” explores the familiar fantasy of lusting after a priest—in gorgeous, arousing detail.

“Here Lies Rob in his Dirty Clothes” may be the most original tale in the collection. A photographer finds herself irresistibly drawn to a slacker who lives in a filthy apartment and rarely bathes. She takes him in a frenzy of inexplicable lust, atop a pile of dirty clothes. I’m something of a neat-nick myself, yet somehow this story grabbed me. I found the sort of irrational attraction portrayed to be eminently believable.

“Dogging the Law”, a humorous story with a twist, wraps up this solidly sexy collection.

All the tales in this volume are quite short. The whole book is only 128 pages in PDF form. Still, each one is rich and complete.

I recommend sampling one or two, just before bed.

Review Tuesday: In Shadow by @GiselleRenarde (#stepbrother #repression #abuse)

In Shadow by Giselle Renarde

Smashwords and Kindle Digital Publishing, 2016

Although Clover is twenty four, she’s still a virgin, living with her mom and her step-father Gord. Somehow she has never had the urge—or the courage—to strike out on her own. She spends her days creating paintings in her studio out in the garage, pretending to ignore her vague sense of dissatisfaction.

Clover’s family gets along well enough, but they don’t talk much about their feelings, or about the wounds in their past. All the hidden pain and twisted need starts to surface when Clover’s sister Brooke marries her long-time beau. Gord’s son Mason flies in from Vancouver, where he runs a successful business, to attend the wedding. Clover works hard to treat her step-brother as just another member of the family, but her shadow reveals her true desires. When she’s in Mason’s presence, she’s horrified to see their shadows engaging in what are obviously carnal activities.

No one else seems to notice as Clover’s shadow becomes increasingly outrageous and menacing, independent of her physical activities and her will. Is she losing her sanity? Is she possessed by some sort of demon or other supernatural presence? All she knows is that she wants her step-brother, and the attraction seems to be mutual.

This synopsis may make it sound as though Giselle Renarde’s In Shadow is just another instance of the taboo step-brother incest erotica that’s become so popular lately. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. Truly, this short novel defies categorization. It’s intriguing, mysterious, insightful and frustrating, in part because Ms. Renarde never resolves the true nature of the Shadow that haunts poor Clover.

It could be something paranormal—the purple-haired lesbian witch who gives Clover herbal tea and crystals seems to imply something of this sort. It could be the product of repression and abuse. The terrifying scene in which Clover is attacked and sodomized in a church stairwell by the shadowy Presence suggests that she might have experienced something similar at the hands of her father, a convicted paedophile who died in prison. The reader never knows.

This tale has a psychological depth that one rarely finds in erotica. (Indeed, despite some sexual content, I’m not sure the label “erotica” fits.) Clover is a complicated and believable character, despite her sometimes extreme reactions (like chopping off all her hair). To some extent, she suffers from arrested development. She behaves like the teenager she was when Mason left home for his first job, after the earliest appearance of the Shadow. Indeed, one can also view this novel as a coming-of-age story. By the end, Clover has undergone some dramatic changes.

The story is also about lies and about corruption. From the married priest who screws Brooke’s best friend, to Clover and Mason themselves, almost everyone in the book tries to hide the truth. Clover is a virgin for a good part of the book, but neither she nor anyone else is “pure”.

I deeply appreciated the originality and emotional intensity of In Shadow. However, I had the sense that the author herself was confused by it. The happy ending seemed overly facile, even inappropriate, since the core conflict (the nature of the Shadow) is never really resolved. Although the story has the raw quality that comes from writing out one’s visions, I think it would have benefited from some structural revisions. It felt to me like something scrawled in a notebook after a feverish dream, rather than a polished novel.

Still, if you’re interested in sampling a truly different take on the step-brother romance trope, as well as enjoying Ms. Renarde’s always evocative writing style, I would recommend In Shadow.

Review Tuesday: Anonymous by Giselle Renarde (#reviewtuesday #erotica #menage)

Anonymous: An Erotic Novel by Giselle Renarde

Createspace, 2016

Fulfilling fantasies is both a major goal of erotica (at least, providing vicarious fulfillment) and a common theme in the genre. What happens, though, when fantasies spin out of control? That’s the question that drives Giselle Renarde’s provocative novel Anonymous.

Hannah and Nathaniel love talking about Nathaniel’s homoerotic fantasies while they have sex. Just the mention of his sucking another guy’s cock is enough to push them both over the edge. When Hannah decides to turn those cherished fantasies into hard-core reality, she plans carefully to avoid any unforeseen side effects. In particular, she insists that the encounter be totally anonymous. The escort service she has engaged provides exactly what she’s ordered: a gracious, hunky Latin lover with no name and no history, whom she mentally christens Mr. A (for Anonymous).

The long-awaited night with their hired partner is scorching. Nathaniel experiences not only fellatio but anal penetration. An eager voyeur, Hannah enjoys every minute, at least as much as her husband does.

After his initiation into gay sex, Nathaniel brings a new partner into their circle, a sexy and charming Caribbean waiter named Lewis. Far from being jealous, Hannah finds their new lover a delight. For some reason, though, she can’t stop thinking about Mr. A. She starts haunting the neighborhood where the escort service is located, hoping for a glimpse of their elusive first partner, or a clue to who he might be. Her obsession isolates her from Nathaniel and Lewis and influences her life decisions. For instance, she turns down a promotion that would require working in another part of the city. Becoming progressively desperate, she even tries breaking into company’s offices in the hope of searching their files.

This is one hot book. Ms. Renarde pulled me into the naughty scenes with her usual expert touch. Since I find gay sex a turn-on myself, I strongly identified with Hannah’s arousal as she watches Nathaniel with other men.

On the other hand, I couldn’t really understand Hannah’s obsession. The author seems to suggest that somehow it’s a side effect of her being unemployed and depressed, but the dynamics weren’t obvious, at least not to me. What is Hannah looking for, that she can’t find in the intense, sexual-creative polyamorous relationship she shares with Nathaniel and Lewis? Her thoughts and actions just didn’t make sense.

To some extent, I felt that the theme of obsession and the luscious descriptions of three-way erotic excess were at war in this novel. It’s almost as if the author started out to write a super-hot MMF fantasy (a goal in which she definitely succeeds) but then got distracted by a what-if scenario involving her heroine’s fixation. I don’t really feel that the obsession thread contributed to the eroticism in the book. On the contrary, it was disturbing, puzzling and ultimately distracting.

Obsession can indeed be a powerful theme in erotica. Perhaps that was what Ms. Renarde was aiming for. In this case, I don’t think it quite works.

Nevertheless, if (like me) you have fantasies about watching sexy guys pleasure each other, I think you’ll enjoy this book.

Review Tuesday: LGBT Love by Giselle Renarde

LGBT Love: 10 Queer, Trans, Bi, Lesbian & Gay Romance Stories

By Giselle Renarde

2015

These days it’s common for reviewers to note that they received a book for free “in return for an unbiased review”. In the case of Giselle Renarde’s LGBT Love, I bought the book. I shelled out the cash at least partly because Giselle is donating all proceeds to non-profit organizations serving lesbian, gay and transgender people. Like most of us, my book-buying budget is a lot smaller than I’d like. I’m always glad when a purchase can support a worthy cause.

Meanwhile, I can hardly claim to be unbiased about Giselle’s fiction. I’ve known her for a long time. In particular, for the past two years, she’s been a fellow contributor to the quirky Oh Get a Grip blog, where every other Thursday she offers her uniquely twisted view on life, love, sex and the state of publishing industry. I invited her to join the blog precisely because I’d enjoyed her stories in the past.

Just a caveat.

LGBT Love collects ten of Giselle’s previously published tales. I liked them all (and surprisingly, almost all of them were new to me), but I have to admit, my favorites were the ones that defied traditional categories.

“Baby Got Bach” is a case in point. A shy young woman who works in a theater obsessively admires a famous gay musician who plays both indie rock and classical piano. When she’s assigned as support staff for the star, he and his boyfriend encourage her to share her odd but arousing fantasies—then fulfill them for her. The story is deeply erotic, without really including sex, at least not in the traditional sense.

Another standout is “Glitter in the Gutter”. This romantic tale features a man struggling against his need to cross-dress, and the woman, his lover, who encourages him to celebrate his sexual duality. Connor’s pain and conflict, his shame and his irrepressible attraction to lingerie, all come through clearly in this sexy yet moving story. When his ex-wife castigates him for his transvestite behavior, he tries to deny what is a fundamental need, to the extent that he labels the more accepting narrator “a bad influence”. Indeed guilt and repression almost triumph—but love eventually conquers.

Perhaps the most emotionally intense tale in this collection is “The Public Life of Private Paulsen”. Set after the Second World War, it chronicles the reunion of two soldiers who served together—one of whom has since transitioned to being a woman. The lovely Pearl—née Howard—Paulsen is wealthy, glamorous, famous, constantly surrounded by a côterie of curious males, but ultimately alone. Meanwhile, George Kensington can finally express the love he’d always felt for his army companion.

After a lengthy pause, Pearl set her hand on his. “Did I ever tell you why I enlisted in the first place?”

“To show the Jerries who’s boss,” George replied with a shrug.

“Well, yes, I should say so. And we certainly accomplished that much. But there was another reason too—one more sinister and terribly, terribly selfish.”

George was all ears. He leaned in close to hear, because now Pearl had her head bent down toward her chest. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Georgie, I wanted desperately to die.” She rose from the sofa, clutching her hand to her breast. “Every day and every night I prayed the Nazis would shoot me right through the heart. I couldn’t go on living. It was the body that was the problem, you see. Nature gave me the wrong one.”

In the time they’d served together, George had seen every conceivable emotion in those eyes, but he’d never fully understood their pain until now. Did God really make mistakes? If the atrocities of war were any indication, he could only conclude yes.

Finally, I want to mention “Everybody Knows”, a story about the love between two transgender individuals in the process of transition, one from the male to female, the other in the opposite direction. With this premise, the story might have been exploitative or glib, but it’s just the opposite. Giselle shows clearly how hard it is for these two people to trust their emotions and their new bodies.

LGBT Love also includes three lesbian tales, one gay encounter, and two bisexual ménages, including the luscious “The Other Other Woman”. However, it’s the less well-bounded tales that will stick in my memory, the ones that bend gender almost beyond recognition. These tales confirm my convictions that arousal doesn’t depend on body parts, and that eroticism is too rich to fit a fixed set of labels.

Sunday Snog #194: The Witches of Gloucester

Happy Sunday! I’ve been away all week on a business trip, but I’m back just in time to post this week’s snog.

I decided to share a kiss or two from my lesbian paranormal erotic romance story The Witches of Gloucester. This is partly in celebration of the wonderful review I just got on Amazon for this book. Plus, of course, we’ve just entered the month for witches, though there’s nothing scary about my sorceress trio.

Also, I’m in a LGBT mood, because I’m reading a new book of short stories by the fabulous Giselle Renarde, entitled LGBT Love. Giselle is donating 100% of the proceeds from this book to LGBT charities. So why don’t you pick up a copy, too? You’ll find all the buy links here: http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com/2015/10/true-heartfelt-loving-kindness.html (And no, this is not just a ploy to get you to visit my other blog Oh Get a Grip! Giselle is an amazing writer.)

After you’ve savored my snog, slide over to Victoria’s place for more Sunday kisses!

She flipped the card over to reveal the three of hearts.

Fear, excitement and lust washed through her in alternating waves. She pushed the exultation away. “It’s just random luck,” she said, wanting but not daring to believe. That force, that attraction – she’d imagined it. She was suggestible – Tim had always said so – and these two women had formidable wills.

“Try again,” Beryl urged.

The two of spades, the Jack of diamonds, the ace of hearts – she found them all, one after the other. The pull of the card she sought grew stronger each time.

“What does it mean?” she asked at last. She sounded small and scared to her own ears.

‘“Let’s try something else first.” Marguerite drew a card from the deck, gazed at it for a moment, then placed it face down in front of her. “Tell me which card I just picked.”

The answer came to her almost before the tawny beauty had asked her question, with no effort at all. “Four of diamonds.”

“Now me.” Beryl selected not one but three cards, setting them out in a row. “You know what to do, Emmeline.”

The messages weren’t so clear this time. She felt as though several different people were shouting in her head. Images of cards flashed by, too fast and indistinct for her to decipher. “I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I can’t...”

Beryl seized her by the wrist across the gap. Power jolted through her. The pictures snapped into focus. “Nine of spades, six of clubs, Queen of hearts. Oh my God...”

Marguerite gathered Emmeline into her arms as the girl burst into ragged tears.

“Hush now.” The raven-haired woman combed her jewel-encircled fingers through Emmy’s platinum locks. “Don’t be afraid.” Warm lips branded Emmy’s brow. A supple tongue flicked out to gather the tears from Emmeline’s cheeks. Through wine-colored velvet, Marguerite’s ample bosom, simultaneously soft and firm, pillowed her own more modest breasts. A whiff of cinnamon tickled her nose, followed by the musky aroma of female arousal.

Emmeline’s already swollen nipples pulsed like the lighthouse off Bass Rocks. A wave of liquid need swept through her, cresting and breaking between her thighs.

“Oh...oh, please...” Marguerite’s fierce kiss swallowed her moan. A snake-like tongue wriggled into Emmy’s mouth, brazen and seductive. Emmeline yielded, swooning with the heat of that kiss, until needle-sharp teeth nipped the plumpness of her lower lip.

“Hey! Aah...” Her yelp became a groan of need as the tiny pain kindled new fires in her hungry pussy.

“Ssh. Just relax, love.” That was Beryl’s voice, smooth, hypnotic, matching the delicate brush of fingertips along her shoulders and down her arms. “Let us pleasure you the way you deserve.”

Seduced by the redhead’s quiet dominance, Emmeline obeyed. She closed her eyes, letting the rising tide of her own lust drown the last shreds of fear.

In the sweet darkness, every sensation grew more acute. Marguerite deepened the kiss, sucking Emmy’s tongue into her mouth, while Beryl stroked Emmy’s back, belly and thighs. The wandering hands barely touched Emmeline’s body but everywhere they traveled, delicious heat followed. 

 

Review Tuesday: Can't Get Enough

Can't Get Enough: Erotica for Women

Edited by Tenille Brown

Cleis Press, 2014

“Too much is never enough”. That's the title Tenille Brown chose for her introduction to this anthology, and it sums up the theme quite nicely. This is a book of stories about sexual insatiability, about lust that can't be denied and sometimes can't even be satisfied, for more than a few minutes at least. The characters in these stories get plenty of sex, plenty of pleasure, sometimes plenty of delicious pain as well, but it's never sufficient.

How well do the tales in this volume explicate this theme? As usual, some are more effective than others. At the top of my list is Preston Avery's amazing “Won't Last the Week”. The narrator meets the woman of his dreams at a party. They spend the night on the beach, so entranced by one another that they forget to exchange phone numbers.

She isn't skinny like the girls I usually go for, like my ideal “on paper” woman, but curved and soft and she fits me just right. Her breasts are big with a delicious slope to them, and I know they will overflow my grasp. I could bury my face in the valley between them and never come up for air. I could have seconds and thirds and fourths of her and die a gluttonous happy man. She does everything I lead her into. I don't ask – words are still lost to us. The first time I lower one of my hands to those gorgeous mounds, hidden between a thin blue cotton shirt, she doesn't protest of push me away- she arches into me, into my touch, and makes the most beautiful noise in her throat. That moment, those moments, are all that I can feel. The future is as unreal to me as a unicorn on the planet Saturn. That place where names and phone numbers matter is at least a world away.

As the week goes on, dreams and fantasies of the lost woman consume the narrator's life. Will he somehow manage to find her? Or will he go mad with need and frustration? The beautiful urgency of this story left me in wet wonder.

Another highly apt contribution is Kissa Starling's cautionary tale “Blue Balls”. A young man too busy with his career to pursue a relationship receives a pair of mysterious blue balls from the gypsy he consults for advice. The balls provide instant orgasms, of such intensity and delight that the protagonist soon finds himself neglecting all other aspects of his life in the quest for ever increasing pleasure.

“Before They Burn” by Beatrix Ellroy is a delicious tale of power and surrender, as a party guest teaches the hostess in the kitchen just how much she loves to be dominated. As he brings her down from her orgasm and allows her to take the cookies from the oven, he tells her: “Next time, Orya, I will take my time with you.”

In Giselle Renarde's exquisite “The Girl on Your Skin”, a lesbian couple with an explicitly open relationship discover that the scent of a casual lover on one of their bodies creates a virtual three-some, kindling a whole new kind of desire.

The editor's own contribution, “Famous Last Words”, is notable for its clever and insightful portrayal of “break up sex”. It's not necessary to love someone, or even to like them, to be swept away by lust for their bodies. In fact, one of the aspects of this entire book that I particularly liked was the fact that not all its stories end happily. Stupendous orgasms are not necessarily the key to long term happiness.

On the other hand, they're not something to be rejected, either.

Given the title, I expected Ms. Brown's story to be the last in the collection. However, that place belongs to Annabeth Leong's incredibly perverse “Objects of Desire”. Once again, Ms. Leong articulates sexual complexities that few other authors would even recognize. This tale of shame, need and kitchen utensils is one of the kinkiest – and most insightful – things I've read in months. It made me squirm, which I have to believe was the author's intention.

I've only mentioned the stories that particularly grabbed me, but overall, Ms. Brown has assembled a solid collection of erotic fiction, with considerable diversity in tone, content and gender pairings. I believe this may be her first time editing an anthology. She can afford to be proud of the result.

Review: Seven Kisses by Giselle Renarde

Seven Kisses by Giselle Renarde

Introverted, order-loving Gabrielle goes for a walk one afternoon, planning to explore a wooded parkland in her home town. Instead of the forest path shown on her map, she encounters a gated driveway that leads to a magnificent Victorian mansion. An unprepossessing sign identifies the property as Loindici Rehabilitation Centre.

As far as the Internet is concerned, the place doesn’t exist, but as Gabby stands marveling at its forbidding glory, her life shifts. A limousine enters the vast grounds. A teen-aged girl in provocative attire emerges. Rushing to Gabrielle, she blurts out “You’re Suzanne!”, then flees. And before Gabrielle realizes what’s going on, several burly figures in scrubs and surgical masks arrive to take “Suzanne” to the rehabilitation centre. At first Gabby protests, but some imp of the perverse – a mixture of curiosity and fatalism – motivates her to assume the patient Suzanne’s identity and agree to undergo Madame deVilleneuve’s “therapies”.

Then she descends into hell. Suzanne is apparently a nymphomaniac and “chronic masturbator”. The Madame’s therapy involves drugs, restraints, beatings, humiliation, sensory deprivation and violent sexual penetration by a Beast – an ominously silent creature whom Madame de Villeneuve explains is the externalization of Suzanne’s own wild and untamed sexual cravings.

This isn’t a question of playing games or acting roles. The pain Gabrielle endures is real and lasting. After several days of therapy her flesh is bruised and torn. She is unable to walk. Yet despite the terrible indignities inflicted upon her, Gabrielle somehow craves these experiences – not with her mind, which turns away appalled and disgusted, but with her traitorous body.

The delicious and chilling aspect of this situation is that the whole scenario is consensual – at least in a formal sense. Gabrielle has freely chosen to enter the Madame’s purgatory. Her reasons seem trivial, but Ms. Renarde makes it clear that in some sense, the Madame is right. Though Gabrielle’s behavior has never been anything other than exemplary, she shares the real Suzanne’s unlimited sexual needs. She has managed to hide this truth from herself all her life – until she entered Loindici Manor.

Madame de Villeneuve furrowed her brow. “My dear, we do not commit patients against their will. You are a legal adult and, as such, your parents’ signatures are not sufficient to gain entry to my program.” She pulled a document from her drawer. How odd—the papers were put together not with a staple but with a brass tack. “It is up to you to commit yourself to my program, Suzanne.”

“Oh.” Could Gabrielle really go through with this? Could she really pretend she was someone else, some rich nymphomaniac? She hadn’t acted a part since the Grade 8 Christmas play, and she wasn’t very good in that.

Handing Gabrielle the wooden calligraphy pen, Madame said, “I must warn you: my therapy is intensive but it yields results. When we begin, you will more than likely wish to return home to a world of comforts. But this, I will not allow. Once you sign my document, you are committed to my care. You do as I instruct. You will not leave until I tell you to go. If this is understood, then sign your name at the bottom of the page.”

The contract, or whatever it was, hadn’t been typed on a computer. The whole thing had been written in Madame’s dense calligraphy hand. Gabrielle couldn’t read a word of it, yet all she could think to ask was, “My parents are paying for this, right?”

Madame nodded solemnly, seeming offended by the mention of money. “Your stay has been paid in advance.”

This place was basically a five-star resort masquerading as a rehab clinic. What was the sense in letting the booking go to waste while the real Suzanne camped out in Loindici Woods, or boarded a plane out of the country, or whatever she was doing right now?

“Once you sign that page, Suzanne, you are mine to treat. You give up your right to say no. Are you prepared to do that, young lady?”

As the therapy proceeds, Gabrielle’s reality begins to dissolve into dark fantasy. Liveried monkeys act as the Madame’s servants. Walls waver and melt into mist. The Beast who so expertly batters her becomes her lover. Madame reveals her own prurient interests in the hapless patient, in an almost unbearably kinky interlude in the mansion’s stables. The Beast helps her to escape. Yet the first thing Gabrielle does when she’s out of the Madame’s clutches is to race back in order to save her beloved Beast from de Villeneuve’s inveterate cruelty.

Seven Kisses offers a totally original mix of heart-catching romance, unbridled kink and wondrous magic. Sometimes the meld is a bit awkward, but overall it works. Occasionally the book reaches the heights of great fantasy. I particularly loved the scene in which Gabrielle leads the wounded Beast through the crumbling wreckage of the manor, as the Madame’s sorcery unravels.

A warning, though: this is not a book for the squeamish or faint of heart. Despite Gabrielle’s having committed herself by signing the Madame’s illegible contract, much of what occurs in this book would be considered non-consensual. Just because Gabrielle enjoys some aspects does not erase the fact that she’s being raped.

If you’re interested in the interaction between desire and will, however – if, like me, you think you were Victorian in a previous life – if you believe in magic - if you’ve ever fantasized about making love to your own Beast – I highly recommend Seven Kisses.