More Kinky Fairy Tales

Little Red Riding Hood

She was little, barely five feet tall, but her nickname derived from her glorious mane of copper hair, not her costume. No, she wore the regulation fairy-tale uniform, a green dirndl with embroidered bodice. The full skirts complimented her broad hips and tiny waist. The finely woven white blouse offered a tantalizing glimpse of her firm, apple-shaped breasts. Not that she deliberately intended to arouse. Red Riding Hood was an innocent maid of eighteen, scarcely aware of the effect her ripe young body had on the lads of the village. A good and dutiful girl, each Sunday afternoon she'd make her way through the woods to bring some cheer and company to her aged grandmother.

He was a lone werewolf, expelled from his pack for his perverted desires. Hunger drove him to the crone's cottage, though the skinny old woman hardly made for a satisfying meal. He morphed into his human guise and washed the last traces of blood from his handsome face, disgusted by his beast-ways. With a sigh, he opened the trunk where the granny had stored her clothing.

As she did every Sunday, Red knocked on the wooden door before entering the cottage. "Granny, it's me," she called. Normally her grandmother would already have the teapot on the table, ready to share whatever goodies her granddaughter had brought in her wicker basket. Today, the kitchen was empty, though a merry fire burned on the hearth. "Granny?" Red cried again, a quaver in her voice. Doubt shadowed her normally sunny disposition.

"In here, child," a deep voice answered. "I'm resting."

"Grandmother!" Red rushed into the bedroom. A figure huddled on the wood-framed bed, buried under a mound of quilts. "Are you ill?"

"Just a bit under the weather, my dear. Come, sit beside me. You're looking very lovely today." A ghand emerged from under the coverlets, captured her wrist and began to stroke her palm. The old woman's flesh was hot as a furnace.

"You feel feverish, Gran. And your voice sounds so harsh..."

"Yes, well, perhaps I've caught some sort of bug. Come closer, darling. Let me feast my eyes on you."

Grandmother wore a lace-trimmed cap pulled low over her brow. Not a trace of her gray curls were visible. Her dressing gown, a lovely thing of peach-colored satin embroidered with birds and flowers, was buttoned to her chin, the ribbons tied in an elaborate bow. Her cheeks were ruddy and smooth under her wire-framed spectacles. Although she claimed to be ill, she looked better than Red had seen her in years.

"My, grandmother, how bright your eyes are!"

"All the better to see you with, my dear."

The other hand shot out from under the covers, caught her around the waist, and dragged her half onto the bed.

"Grandma! What are you doing? What big, strong hands you have!"

"All the better to touch you, my sweet. Do you like my nightgown, by the way?" The elderly woman threw off the quilts, showing off the gown, which covered her down to the ankles.

"It's lovely - isn't it one from your trousseau?"

"Yes, I believe that it is. I thought, it's crazy to let it rot in my trunk." The figure on the bed tried to pull Red down next to him. "Why not take a bit of a rest with me, darling? Keep me warm..." For the first time, the maiden resisted.

"Yes but - Granny, what big feet you have!"

"All the better to - um - stomp on the grapes during the harvest. Come, Red Riding Hood, don't be selfish. Give a bit of comfort to your old granny..."

"But - OH Granny! What a big....what is it? What is it it for?"

"Lie down with me, little darling and I'll show you."

***

Red pushed her Titian tangles away from her face. She gazed down at the splendid young man she held clasped between her thighs. Her grass-hued skirts were bundled around her waist. Her bodice hung open, exposing her cream-colored breasts and strawberry nipples. He arched his back, driving that mysterious appendage of his deliciously deep into her secret places. She tightened around him and he let out a satisfied groan.

"Ah, Red...You've made me hard again."

"Oh... How lovely! I never imagined..." She surveyed his muscular form, still attired in her grandmother's wedding finery. Something nagged at her, even through her lascivious haze. "Henry...what happened to Granny?"

Her lover answered with faster and more potent thrusts. Pleasure forced the niggling worry from her mind. "Oh, Henry, that's divine! Oh! Oh, I think... yes ... yes, like that ... Oh YES!" Paroxysms of delight shook her. Finally she collapsed on his broad, satin-clad chest. "Oh Henry, darling! I love you so much. I'd do anything for you."

The rugged, jet-haired man gave her a wolfish grin. "Really, Red?"

"Oh yes," she exclaimed. "What would you like? Do you want me to lick you? Do you want to do it doggy style?"

"Well...actually..." Embarrassment made her prince look younger. "I was wondering if I could try on your dirndl."

Kinky Fairy Tales and Nursery Rhymes

By Bianca Sommerland (Guest Author)

Too easy. You might have noticed, a lot of erotic authors use fairy tales for inspiration because many have built in sensuality. I had to do something on Snow White because my muse told me it was begging to be a ménage. And that’s how Rosemary Entwined was born.

But what other fairy tales could easily be kinky? Well, I saved that question for my guest post on Lisabet’s blog (as a special thank you) since she gave me the idea.

You did say no heat limits, right?

Beauty and The Beast (BDSM)

Crumpled rose petals settled in the dirt around her slippers. Beads of moisture gathered on her neck from his hot breath as he leaned over her.

“Don’t look at me like that. Your father sinned, not I.” His eyes, dark as rain soaked bark, narrowed when she shook her head. “You surrendered yourself to me willingly to spare him.”

Tears spilled as Belle stared at the metal trellis in the center of the rose garden, with chains woven through it like vines and four shackles wrapped in silk and fur dyed the color of the blossoms. Her gaze dropped to her feet and she shivered, imagining those chains around her wrists and ankles, displaying her, naked and helpless before this...this...Monster.

“You can’t mean for me to...”

“Oh, I can.” He tilted her head back and studied her for a moment. Lips curved, he trapped her wrists in one, big hand. “But do not fear for your innocence. I would not take it from you with this animal form.” He drew her hands over her head, shackling one wrist, then the other. “But watching you writhe and enjoy the pleasure none other can give you...” His smile full of fangs seemed almost tender. “Perhaps that will be payment enough.”

Belle gritted her teeth as he crouched to shackle her ankles, tightening the chains so her legs were pulled apart. “You could never please me.”

The beast smacked her thigh. “You will not speak.” He smirked when she tugged at her restraints, hips jerking towards him and away as she fought her own reactions. The sweet essence of her arousal filled the air between them. Beast inhaled deep and straightened. “Unless the pain becomes too much or you are truly afraid. Then you may say ‘Rose’ and I will stop. Do you understand?”

No words came to her, so she simply nodded. And took the punishment, screaming and crying when the strike of the paddles or whips teetered on the edge between pain and pleasure.

But she never said ‘Rose’.

*

Now let’s try another.

Cinderella (foot fetish)

The glass slipper covered her toes and her sweet little heel like crystal moulded to display the perfection of her dainty, little foot. He had to take it off. He’d wanted to ever since his first glimpse of one bare when she’d lost her slipper after the ball.

Beneath them, the wagon wheels creaked and thumped on the craggy road. Cinderella reclined on the gold brocade, padded seats and crossed her ankles. His eyes leapt from her feet to her face. Her brow creased and he forced a smile to his lips.

It wouldn’t do for his new princess to think him odd.

His heart flipped and flopped up into his throat when she kicked off the slipper and wiggled her toes. The sight had him staring. He couldn’t help it.

“I’ve never had a man look beyond my breasts or my ass like that.”

The prince tore his eyes from where they caressed her sleek arc, his mouth watering. “Does it bother you?”

“Not at all.” She rested her foot on her knee and flexed it, gaze fixed on his crotch as his rock hard dick stirred. “Would you like to touch?”

“Oh, yes.” His hands covered her foot, massaging that flesh, so soft in places, textured and rough in others. He traced each delicate bone with his fingers in an attempt to cast the wondrous image to memory.

She twisted her ankle and freed her foot.

No, not long enough!

“That was...all right.” A half smile on her lips, Cinderella braced on her elbows and swung her foot under his chin. “Now how ‘bout you do that again. With your tongue.”

He groaned and caught her big toe with his mouth. His tongue circled the plump end and he sucked his way up and down. Then he released it with a plop and grinned.

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

*

Well that was just tons of fun. Fairy tales are kinky in the most wonderful way. All it takes is a bit of imagination.

Hope you have some fun with your bedtime story tonight.

Blurb: Rosemary Entwined

One kiss might save her, but if Rosemary has to lose even one of her men, she doesn’t want a prince.

The only role of Rosemary's nest of men is to feed her insatiable hunger for lust, but that's not what she wants for them. Or what they want from her. While Rosemary presses for them to live their own lives, they each find ways to steal into her heart. With the threat of her mother's nest hanging over them, Rosemary decides to surrender to the love they offer and focus on building their combined strength to stand against the inevitable attacks.

When her control over her powers slips, another problem arises. The nest is incomplete. A prince must be chosen, and if he is not among her men, she'll be forced to let one of them go.

She once feared her heart wasn't big enough to hold them all. Now she fears she's not strong enough to release even one. Even if it costs her her life.

Bio:

Bianca Sommerland was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. When not reading neurotically or writing as though the fate of the world rests on her keyboard, she is either watching hockey or teaching her daughters the beauty of a classic, steel pony while reminiscing about her days in Auto Body Mechanics.

Her time is balanced with utmost care between normal family life, and the internal paranormal realm where her characters reside. For the most part, she succeeds. She is currently working on a risqué new ménage novel called EMBRACING EVIL. You can find her at http://imnoangelauthorsblog.wordpress.com/

Where Does Inspiration Come From?

By Katie Hines (Guest Blogger)

One can talk about motivation and inspiration as though they were one and the same. That, however, is far from the truth. Motivation has to do with getting up, getting something done. Inspiration, on the other hand, comes from deeper within, from the heart of the writer.

Merriam Webster’s dictionary defines motivation as something that causes a person to act, like a need or desire. For example, Kerry was motivated to diet when she stepped on the scales after the holiday season.

Inspiration, on the other hand, is defined as “a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicated sacred revelation” or “the action or power of moving the intellect or emotions.”

As one can see, there is a great difference in the two words. How does this apply to our writing? Do we see the inspiration as a divine influence? I don’t know about you, but I certainly hadn’t thought of it that way. On the other hand, there have been times that I have been writing and been “in the zone,” where the words come fast and furious and I wonder from whence they come.

One could say that inspiration causes motivation, which in turn causes action. Inspiration seems to come from the heart, while motivation is acting on the inspiration found within.

So, do you feel your writing is inspired? Should you feel your writing is inspired? Based on these two definitions, I think I’m going to aim toward the inspired part of my psyche, and let that inspiration cause me to act. To be motivated. How about you?

Bio:

Katie Hines has been writing snippets here and there as long as she can remember. When in 8th grade, she wrote a short story called, "Underworld." Then, in high school, she wrote several poems that were published in an anthology.

Marriage and raising two children contributed to putting away writing for a few years, but she came back to it while in her 40s. Since that time, she has been a contributing feature writer and columnist for a local newspaper, has written several features articles for another area newspaper, and wrote religious and humor articles for an online Catholic ezine.

Since the release of "Guardian," Katie is working on another fantasy novel as well as a couple of chapter books, and is extending "My Name is Bib" into a full young adult novel.

Links:

http://4RVPublishingllc.com

http://www.katiehines.com

http://katiehines.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/people/Katie-Hines/1442953493

Twitter: http://twitter.com/katiehines

Katie Hines

Children's Author Member, SCBWI

NOW AVAILABLE! Guardian - a middle grade urban fantasy Order from http://www.4RVPublishingllc.com

Imagine you have made a secret promise that can lead you to an incredible treasure and an ancient power. But in order to fulfill that promise, you must defeat an age-old sect determined to claim the treasure and power themselves.

The Challenge of Romance

I'm weird. Okay, that's not news to anyone who hangs around this blog. This struck me yesterday though, with particular force. Why? Because yesterday I realized that I find it much easier to write graphic erotica than to write erotic romance.

I find this odd because I've read many blog posts by my colleagues, who say that they found it tough, at least at first, to add explicit sex scenes to their romance stories. I'm just the opposite.

I spent eight days struggling to write 16K words for my most recent romance submission. Meanwhile, yesterday I banged out a 5K erotica short story in about six hours - with time off to make and eat lunch and to read the newspaper! Why was did one story go so smoothly while the other bogged me down?

Both stories are (I hope) erotic. At least, they both contain explicit sex. The romance, a ménage, is in fact more extreme and transgressive than the erotica. Both have (I hope) well-developed characters. Certainly, the erotica I write depends as much on character and plot as the romance. I find purely physical sex boring; whether I'm writing erotica or romance, I'm focused on the characters, their emotions and sensations, fantasies and fears. So where does the difference reside?

It might just be the fact that I'm more used to writing erotica. That was my primary genre before I moved into the romance world. But introspection suggests that is not the main reason.

To be honest, when I'm writing romance, I think I worry too much about whether I'm following the conventions. I wonder whether I'm doing enough to show the emotional bond between the characters. And I find myself censoring my language, concerned that my sex scenes might be too raw for romance readers. (In fact a few reviewers have faulted my sexual language for being overly "hard" or "strong" for their tastes, particularly in M/M encounters.) If I'm writing erotica, I feel like I can let go. In romance, I find myself holding back.

The tension and the self-censorship slow me down, I think. To write freely, you have to feel free, and I still don't feel that way when I'm working on romance. It does not come naturally. A good deal of the time, it's more work than it is fun.

In truth, I think my erotica is better written than my romance. This is rather discouraging, given the amount of time and effort I've invested in marketing myself as an author of erotic romance. But I'm not ready to give up yet! I do think I'm learning. And I really want to be able to write the sort of books that readers say they can't put down. So I'll grit my teeth and try to relax (!) and have fun. I'll focus on the love and let the sex fall where it may. And maybe, at some point, I'll be able to produce 5K of romance in an afternoon as easily as 5K of erotica.

Romance and E-Readers

By Anna Kathryn Lanier

Merry Christmas! I’m spending time with my in-laws and will check in from time to time, though, see what’s going on. Thanks for having me, Lisabet. First, I’m discussing the phenomenal sales of e-romances. Second, leave a comment on my topic or on my blurb and you could win a prize

I attended a conference in October 2008 where, during the question and answer panel, one of the visiting agents said that two things sell well during a bad economy – movie tickets and books, in particular, romance books. To back up this statement, The New York Times in an April 2009 article says, “While sales of adult fiction overall were basically flat last year, according to Nielsen Bookscan, which tracks about 70 percent of retail sales, the romance category was up 7 percent [in 2008] after holding fairly steady for the previous four years.” It went on to say that Barnes and Noble reported that they expect a 4 to 6 percent decline in overall book sales for the year 2009, yet there's been an increase in romance sales since January.

Now, we have e-book readers, which has brought on a whole new playing field for readers. An area of publication that more established publishers all but sneered at has become the jewel of the industry. As The New York Times wrote on December 8, 2010 the sale of romance e-books is thriving. Matthew Shear, the executive vice president and publisher of St. Martin’s Press, says “Romance is becoming as popular in e-books as it is in print.”

The New York Times article would have us believe that this is because romance readers are ashamed of the covers on print books, embarrassed by the bare-chested men and scantily clad women that so often catch our eyes. With the advent of the ‘brown-paper bag’ for bookcovers, readers are snatching up romance books as never before, albeit as e-books. However, as the statics above show, romance has always been in the forefront of book sales. Romance has always outpaced the sales of all other genre, taking anywhere from 30-50% of the market.

According to the Romance Writers of America yearly report, romances generated $1.36 billion in sales in 2009. They made up more than fifty percent of the paperbacks sold and 25% of all books sold. In comparison, religion/inspirational books generated $770 million in sales, mystery $674 million, Sci Fi $554 and classical literary fiction $462.

Barnes and Noble, it seems, has had its head in the sand for the past two decades. According to William Lynch, the chief executive, Barnes and Noble has been a non-player in the romance field. But with the genre capturing 25% of the e-book market, it has decided to get on the romance bandwagon. Sometime next year, Lynch says he “expects the company’s e-book sales in romance to surpass its print sales.”

Even when the economy is on the down turn, romance sales bloom. When things look bleaker than bleak, people want hope, love and happiness. Romance novels give them that along with an escape from reality. And now, with e-readers, it gives it to them in a handy, take-along way. Most e-readers can hold hundreds, if not thousands of books.

Thousands of more choices, too. On average, a print romance book has a shelf life of about a month. E-books change all that. Now a book can have an unlimited life-span. Both Random House and Harlequin Enterprises are digitizing backlists of favorite authors, Harlequin to the tune of 10,000 titles dating back to 2002.

I do not believe the argument that romance is selling through the roof (a 27% increase at Sourcebooks this year) because of e-books. Romance has always sold through the roof. Romance has been the back-bone of the publishing industry for decades. Nor do I believe we buy e-books over paperbacks because we’re embarrassed to let other people know what we’re reading. I have proudly read my paperback romances in public.

No, I think the reason e-books are selling like hotcakes is due to the convenience of buying them. E-readers allow for the instant purchase of a book, no matter where the reader is. Sitting at home in one’s easy chair, at the airport waiting for a flight, at a restaurant talking with friends (“You have to get this book.” Bingo, go online and download the book then and there.). As long as wi-fi is available, a reader can instantly get a book.

Contrary to the recent snickering and whispers by the news media, the popularity of romance is nothing new. Romance novels have been at the top of the buyers’ lists for decades. It is no surprise to me at all that the genre is leading the e-book pack, too!

What’s your opinion in this argument? Do more people buy romance e-books because an e-reader hides the ‘naughty’ books they’re reading? Or are more e-romances being bought because it’s convenient?

Speaking of e-books, my latest story A GIFT BEYOND ALL MEASURE was released on December 8, 2010 through The Wild Rose Press. It is now available for purchase for Kindle and will soon be available at Barnes and Noble for their nook.

Leave a comment and you can win a copy of A GIFT BEYOND ALL MEASURE. I’ll draw for a winner on December 28^th.

Blurb:

Arriving home for Christmas, the last thing Jacob Scott expects in his house is a sexy, shotgun-toting stranger. Worse, his attraction to her bothers him even more than the gun. Still reeling from the deception of his long-time girlfriend, he’s not looking for romance.

Tessa Jones has learned one hard lesson—when everyone in your life has failed you the only one you can trust is yourself. Facing the whispers of the townsfolk and an arson charge, Tessa unexpectedly finds herself trusting Jacob with more than her legal troubles.

Struggling between the promise of the present and the hurts of the past, can these two lost souls overcome their pain long enough to discover a gift beyond all measure?

Unedited Excerpt:

Jacob Scott raised a brow, then broke away from her hypnotic stare to glance at the shotgun pellets embedded in his wall. “You could have killed me.”

“You broke into the house in the middle of the night.”

He reached into his jeans’ pocket and pulled out his keys. “I didn’t break in. I have the damn key to my own front door.”

She put a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “And how was I to know it was you making all that noise? You’re not supposed to be here.”

Irritation boiled inside his gut. She was treating him like a criminal for entering his own home.

“Well, I am here and this is my house. And just who are you?”

She drew in a breath and glanced to her left. “Tessa Jones,” she mumbled.

The name rattled around in his brain. It was familiar. She was familiar, but he didn't think he'd actually met her before. He sure would have remembered that thick auburn hair and lush body if they'd been introduced. So, why did he know the name?

Oh, no. Not that Tessa Jones.

“Tessa Jones? The cook for Baxter’s Diner who burned down half of Spencerville after she started a kitchen fire last month?” Thrusting a hand through his hair, he shifted his weight “What are you doing in my house?”

Her face reddened as she glared at him. “I’m the cook for the cowboys here on the Triple H.”

What was Christina thinking? Hiring an arsonist as a cook?

What he thought must have shown on his face, because the hand on her hip fisted, bunching the flannel and inching it up to reveal more of her lovely thighs. Fire blazed in her eyes. “You know, things aren’t always what they appear to be.”

With that, she strode down the hallway to a bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Also, I have a limited-edition A GIFT BEYOND ALL MEASURE COOKBOOK. You can download the FREE pdf version of it off my website.

Anna Kathryn Lanier
More than Tumbleweeds
Heartwarming, Sensual Westerns
www.aklanier.com

Review: Training the Receptionist

Training the Receptionist by Juniper Bell

Samhain Publishing 2010

Dana Arthur may be a native of Lowlife, Long Island, but she's nobody's fool. When she applies for the job of receptionist at the upscale consulting firm of Cowell & Dirk, she figures out pretty quickly that this is not your usual entry-level position. Simon Dirk, junior partner of the firm, requires more of his new employee than just answering phones and handling mail. Her new boss demands that she obey even his most outrageous commands and administers swift punishment when she errs in the slightest. Dana is surprised to discover that she's addicted to both the pleasure and the punishment Simon provides, largely because of the powerful yet sensitive man administering them.

Simon quickly comes to find his new receptionist indispensable. For a long time, he and his mentor Ethan Cowell have been seeking a worthy partner to join their kinky games. Dana's intelligence, daring and passion make her perfect for the role. As the two of them grow close, though, Simon realizes that he's not willing to share Dana, even with the man to whom he owes his life. He's ready to quit his job and abandon his commitments to Ethan, rather than be forced to let Cowell have her. Dana, however, has other ideas.

Let me get straight to the point. I loved this book! Of course, I'm a huge fan of stories with D/s themes, but I read lots of BDSM novels that do not get to me the way this one did. One reason for my enthusiasm is Ms. Bell's breezy, literate style. She gives Dana a highly distinctive voice: clever, funny, irreverent, and convincingly horny. Dana's the sort of woman I'd love to have as a friend (though she's a bit patronizing toward her best bud Brandi). You can't help but identify with her quest for an exit strategy that will get her out of her dead-end existence - as well as her constant state of arousal in the presence of her hunky, demanding boss.

The submissive secretary theme has been done a hundred times, but Juniper Bell manages to make it fresh. For one thing, Simon is ingenious and creative when it comes to the tests he sets for his trainee. Being forced to answer the phones while bound half-naked to a desk chair or having remotely-controlled vibrating balls in her sex is just the beginning. Also, Simon's approach to the trainee process makes him the perfect Dom. He always asks Dana if she's willing to comply, confident that her curiosity and desire to please will make her agree.

One of my favorite aspects of this book is the way it demolishes the notion that submissive women are wimpy, needy, cringing creatures without a will of their own. Dana Arthur proves that it takes courage and intelligence to submit - and that any dominant worth his whip will recognize that fact.

I highly recommend this sexy, tightly-written romance novella. I'm only sorry that it sat on my To-Be-Read list for such a long time. I didn't realize what I was missing.

When Romance Becomes Erotica, And Why I Care

By Gianna Bruno (Guest Blogger)

First off, many thanks to Lisabet for offering me a guest spot today. I always enjoy the interesting, thoughtful posts and lively discussions, and it’s an honor to be here.

I'm known as somewhat of a cross-genre queen, and write science fiction and urban fantasy as well as spicy paranormal romance. I'm often asked why I started writing erotic romance, and with the publication of The Journey (http://www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781615722488 ) on December 7, why I chose to include BDSM and ménage in a love story with an action/adventure plot.

The answers to both questions are the same. Because the story called for it. Sure, I could have watered down the sex to be less graphic and, in fact, a few beta readers suggested that I do so.

So, why did I leave it in? Other readers felt the plot supported the scenes in question, and that they were an integral part of the story. I started out to write about a woman lost in the woods who was waylaid by fairies (that came to me in a dream). I knew from the beginning the human/fairy relationship would necessitate it be erotica. But I had no idea how far the plot would twist along a dark path until the heroine, Milena, mustered the courage to accept the challenge.

A main theme of The Journey is slavery and the slave trade just before the Civil War. Milena had to take extreme measures, including the granting of sexual favors, to find and free the hero, Thomas. And he had not been fully truthful with her about his dealings, causing great heartache and anguish. Milena's actions required the use of dark magic, which was justified to protect both herself and the escaped slaves.

I could have written The Journey as a traditional paranormal fantasy, perhaps even a sensual love story, but anything less than erotica was not sufficient to ply the dark depths of humanity and explore the misery of prejudice and violence against people because of race or religious beliefs. One contest judge commented that the BDSM in the story was "disturbing" but somehow did not find the torture and murder of innocent human beings to be at issue. I am always mystified that, in any genre, graphic violence rarely triggers the same reaction as graphic sex.

I did try and remove the erotic content from Hot Chocolate Kiss, (www.eternalpress.biz/book.php?isbn=9781770650268) a novelette published last January by Eternal Press, and the story stopped cold. I put it back in and it has garnered five star reviews even from readers who don't traditionally read erotica.

Andrew Richardson (http://andrewjrichardson.blogspot.com) reviewed The Journey and commented, “The plot is well thought through, and enough to keep the reader gripped on its own,” and added it “rightly comes with a high heat rating. Gianna doesn’t pull any punches with this aspect, and writes the sex scenes with the same confidence as the story’s other elements. The erotic element is all in context, though, and fits seamlessly into the story.”

Why do I care? Because I want to tell the best story I can. Because my stories have deep, universal themes no matter if they are fantasy, science fiction, humor, romance, or erotica. Because I don't want to be typecast.

I've learned to trust my writer's instinct and stories the way they needs to be told, even if it means crossing into territory that I haven't previously explored. I’ve learned to trust my readers will “get it.”

My work in progress, a contemporary collection At Home With Peter and Sandra is highly erotic as well, though with a humorous tone. There are an awful lot of real life couples charting a new course and facing the same challenges as this fictional one in the suburbs of somewhere, and I want to craft something which brings that to life.

I'd love to have anyone who has read any of my stories share their thoughts. Haven't read any yet? Here's an excerpt an excerpt of The Journey.

Milena prepared a place on the floor, but before she could lie down, Hecabe's chanting and rocking began anew. Her eyes opened and stared into Milena's.

A male voice spoke. "Meet me in the forest. I have news of Thomas. Time grows short."

Milena's hands shook as she pulled on her boots and drew a cloak over her nightdress. Why had she not sought Hecabe's counsel sooner? She ran into the woods, fearing it might already be too late. Dead branches snapped under her feet. Clumps of wet snow fell from the pine boughs and landed with a thud on the sodden earth. A flock of bats flew overhead, headed for the safety of the thick forest growth.

Mist rose from the snow. Fairies materialized and swarmed around her; the furious beat of their wings raised a high-pitched whine.

Half as tall as she, they seemed fashioned out of silver strands of gossamer, clothed in cloaks of snowflake lace. Females, Milena surmised noting their firm, full breasts and silver haired pubes through the translucent garments.

The fairies surrounded Milena and guided her along the path for a good distance, until her feet were soaked and freezing.

A male fairy appeared, clad in the same lacy garments. Two heads taller than the females, his organ dangled nearly to his knees. A deep growl vibrated in Milena's ears raised a spiral of fear along her spine. He smacked his lips like a pig at the slop trough.

"I am Hamil, the guardian of the Forest Otherworld. Fear not, sister. I mean you no harm. You have prayed to the goddesses for news of your lost one who lives still. The creatures of the Otherworlds have conducted his pleas to you, over sands, oceans and through the woods. We can take you to him."

His was the same voice channeled through Hecabe, another sign the fairy spoke the truth. Thomas lived, and she had to find him.

There is a contest question posted on the header of my blog, (http://giannabruno.blogspot.com). The first reader to answer correctly HERE ON THIS SITE, wins their choice of The Journey or Hot Chocolate Kiss.

While you’re over there, scroll down to the bottom to view the trailers for both stories.

Here's wishing everyone all the greetings of the season, no matter what you celebrate!