By
Dacy Alexandria (Guest Blogger)
Firstly
I'd like to thank Lisabet for hosting my little bit of rambling that
will hopefully entice you to read my new book Giselle and The HotSquad, published by eXcessica.
Apparently
I have super weird dreams compared to the rest of humanity. For
instance, I once dreamed I was getting a divorce from Kristen
Stewart, and in the middle of court we were attacked by Nazi robots
and were forced to rekindle our love to fend them off. Another weird
dream was about a thirty year old woman who had to go to Italy to
sort through her dead mother's remains and found many a magical
object. This dream is the reason I'm with you on this lovely day.
Unlike my team up with Miss Stewart I wasn't motivated to marathon
Twilight, instead I was spurred on to write a supernatural movie
script.
The
age of the woman got brought down to eighteen, because being
surrounded by eighteen and nineteen year olds in my ballet classes I
knew them like they knew the best IG filters. The script was shifted
from Italy to California, and the magically charged main character,
then named Kate soon to be renamed Giselle, was given four super
heroine friends and a vicious witch for foe. I thought I had a
blockbuster on my hands. I was going to get this movie made easy
peasy, be invited to many Hollywood bashes, and maybe just maybe use
the Nazi robot dream story to hit on Kristen Stewart. I'm smooth like
that, see me for my Pick Up Artist classes.
I
took the script to a consultant named Melody Jackson, who happens to
be a lovely woman. I had worked with her before on an award winning
script I wrote, and she told me this one was hilarious, and had her
not just writing LOL but literally LOL. Perhaps even LMAO? However,
while Melody loved the script she thought the story would make a
fantastic series of books, and convinced me to go that route.
I
linked up with the awesome editor Elaine Ash and she helped me craft
a novel with these cast of characters. The novel was supposed to be a
procession of wild supernatural action. But then I wrote just a tiny
scene where this petite hot-head, Dusty fondled the main character
Giselle, and Elaine was floored. She declared that I had a gift for
writing erotica and had to turn this into a erotic comedy. If there's
three things I like, its sex, beautiful women, and wild jokes, and so
like well trained Pokemon, Giselle and The Hot Squad evolved.
 |
| Giselle |
 |
| Tristan |
 |
| Fleur |
I
do very much hope you'll enjoy the story as much I enjoyed writing
it. I was actually going through a severe illness during its
creation, so I'm just happy to actually have it out and be able to
speak with you. And if you like the book and get a laugh I'll be even
happier!
Blurb
It's
the start of Giselle Nyfall's freshman year at the prestigious
liberal arts school Drouin University in Manhattan. From the moment
this well endowed innocent bounces in from Los Angeles, things go
awry. A housing mix-up denies her a dorm and forces her to spend the
first night in a male dorm with a cute but talkative conspiracy
theorist. Only the instincts of a true exhibitionist earn Giselle
some sleep. Thanks to the wicked temptress that heads student
services, Giselle lands a living place much better than a freshman
dorm: an upper east side condo! Giselle finds her roommates a strange
oversexed lot, a rocker chick from Boston, a true blue princess, a
vain Instagram starlet, and BB gun toting southern belle. Even
weirder are the men of the condo complex, who appear to be placed
under a devastating sex caused curse! The girls put aside their
differences and throw themselves boobs first into a solution that
probably won't get mentioned in any graduation speech.
Excerpt
Finally,
the tour of the condo concludes with the not so grand finale of
Giselle's room. The storage closet.
“The
master suite.” Fleur's wide sexy lips form a wicked grin.
“What's
in that box down there? Oh my god, is that a butt plug?"
“The
ginger bitch keeps hers in here. It can go up your ass, but it can't
go in your dresser drawer?”
Ginger
bitch? Butt plug stored like it's a spare bottle of Windex? Add that
to the thong/boy short rule, the BB gun, and it all equals an even
more confused Giselle Nyfall. What kind of oversexed zoo did Anika
banish her to?
“I
can't stay in this room. It's a closet.”
“Its
classically cozy.”
“There's
no bed, and there's a butt plug.”
“Pretend
you're sleeping in a Hustler store.”
“No
one sleeps in the Hustler store! People do not sleep next to butt
plugs! This is nuts. There has to be some mistake.”
“I'm
starting to think your parents may have made one.”
Giselle
stomps past Fleur down the hall to the living room.
“FLEUR
TROUBADOUR, YOUR IRRATIONAL HARRASSENT OF THIS YOUNG LADY SHALL CEASE
AT ONCE,” says another voice. This one has a silvery quality. Fleur
shrinks.
“Shit,"
she hisses at Giselle. "You got Viking Barbie on my ass.”
“Viking
Barbie?”
Viking
Barbie appears, carried in by long, gorgeous powerful legs that reach
up to a slender waist and a rock-hard ass. Beneath a luxurious
frilled-sleeve shirt a pair of pendulous breasts fill out the floral
pattern. Bright red lips form in a cupid's bow, resting above a
rounded chin and square jaw. Her hair has been fussed over into a
blond bob of rolling waves. The way she looks, the way she walks, the
air around her seems like slow motion. If Fleur is a doll under a
Christmas tree, then Viking Barbie is a goddess blessing The Empire
State.
“Welcome,
Giselle. My name is Tristen.” Deep-set almond eyes appraise the
newcomer. “If Fleur had only bothered to check her text messages,
she would have known you were coming and spared herself exposure as a
wretched bore. Yet, I am obliged to think her a fool for not simply
directing you the fifth bedroom Come. I shall show you.”
Tristen
leads the way to the room next to the storage closest.
“My
baddies, I opened the wrong door,” Fleur says with a halfhearted
shrug.
The
grey infused bedroom reminds Giselle of Anika's silver hair. Nearly
everything is shades of grey. The accent rug, cushioned seats, a side
table, are all one color scheme.
As
happy as she is to have a real room, Giselle is distracted. “I know
you. I've seen you on TV before!” Giselle exclaims to the tall
blond.
“Commoners
often recognize royalty. I am Princess Tristen Maria Anna Gunnarsson,
of the Gunnarsson royal family of Gyllengard.”
About
Me
Dacy
Alexandria is an erotic fiction author that has also taken home
several screen writing awards under a different name at the Los
Angeles Reel Film Festival and SkyFest, and happens to be a trained
ballerina. He loves the possibilities of the supernatural but also
the inherent weirdness of the everyday world and likes to combine the
two whenever possible. Dacy likes to focus his erotica on new
adults, which might explain why he can subsist on a steady diet of CW
shows and cans of Starbucks double shot for days at a time.
http://dacyalex.tumblr.com
(18+ only please!)
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