Showing posts with label WMS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WMS. Show all posts

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Hardened Desire



Hardened Desire by Layna Pimentel


BLURB
What could Luc Mercier, a gargoyle who's more than a century old, possibly have in common with modern introvert, Gillian Harris? Loneliness and isolation.
When meddlesome friends bring the two together, neither is prepared for the flurry of emotions nor revelations that overwhelm them. That is, until Gillian stumbles across the truth and struggles with how she let her guard down.
Learning to love again has never been harder.


EXCERPT
Luc picked up a newspaper from the stand and tossed a two-dollar coin to the elderly man working the counter. He ascended the cavernous stairs of Bloor and Dufferin subway station, irritated by the lights flickering intensely. I should have just taken my car.
But if he did, Luc would have missed an opportunity to observe society other than from the café he frequented lately. A society he didn’t belong in, technically speaking, and had no business being a part of. Long gone were the muddy, off-beaten roads of provincial France. Long gone was the time when an over-flowing bodice was considered scandalous.
Now people thrived on exposing as much skin as possible. The modern day sentiment of what was attractive and acceptable embarrassed him to the core, from the mode of dress to the inappropriate use of language. Didn’t anyone know how to speak without using an expletive every other word? Where had humanity gone wrong? It was ghastly enough that children didn’t respect their elders, much less their parents.
Nevertheless, as much as this modern world perplexed him, nothing could deter him from at least enjoying his freedom, regardless of the limitations restricting his activities to the darkness of the night.
He did, however, miss the ambiance of candle light and the soft cries while seducing a woman, tormenting her with his wicked tongue. Exploring deviant, but heavenly, practices of binding and mixing pleasure with pain. Sweet promises falling from his lips while exploring every inch of her delicate and exquisite flesh.
These days, the few women he was able to enjoy weren’t interested in highly sensual liaisons. No. Today’s women thrived on being in control of seduction, whether they were proficient or not. There certainly wasn’t anything wrong with the scenario, but it wasn’t his taste. He preferred his women soft, like Genevieve…his sweet, sweet Genevieve.
No matter how many decades passed, the only woman he’d ever confided in, and planned to wed, crept into his mind many a time. Genevieve was an old soul, who found him and fell in love. Then, much like a Greek tragedy, their story ended woefully. The trust and courage it had taken to confess to Genevieve of the monstrosity he had become left him restless and, for once in his miserable existence, vulnerable. If not for her kindness, encouragement, and love, who knew what he would be doing and where.
This last week, though, he thought to explore the possibility of trying again. A particular woman, who frequented the café where he spent his early evenings drinking a brandy and reading The Daily Sun, had caught his particular interest. Her laughter aroused his curiosity in the few and far between moments when he contemplated actually living life. Her voice, whether chuckling or whispering to her friend, always made his body react in an animalistic way.
While they had never met, she seemed like someone he’d be interested in getting to know, at the very least, for a little while. Luc doubted very much he’d find another woman like the love of his life and often thought it would be better that way. How could he even begin to explain why he only ever spent time with her at night, and why he’d always be gone before the first sign of daybreak?

WHERE TO BUY

BIOGRAPHY
Born and raised in Toronto, Ontario, Layna discovered her love of reading at an early age. When she isn’t devouring salacious romance novels or writing, she enjoys losing herself in researching ancient history and mythology, weaponry, and hiking. She lives in Northern Ontario, with her husband and two daughters.
Layna is a member of the Romance Writers of America, and is a monthly contributor at 69 Shades of Smut. For updates on her upcoming releases, or to leave her a comment, you can find at:



Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Fifty Shades of Green


Plant Sex 101

Gardening’s the world’s dirtiest profession. I’m not just talking about under-your-nails dirt. I’m talking sexy botany.

If you have a thriving garden there’s an orgy going on in your backyard.

First there’s the perfume: flowers—from trees, shrubs, annuals (those are the flowers and plants that grow, flower, and die all in one year), perennials (plants, like roses and shrubs, that stick around for years), bulbs (like tulips), tubers (dahlias), rhizomes (irises) . . . all of these create flowers that beckon pollinators with their enticing scents. Then there’s the gorgeous hues, the attention grabbers that also say,“Come do me.” The pollinators, in a hungry (one might say even lusty) frame of mind buzz and flutter from plant to plant. They sip, and rub, and gather, and frolic around in the luxuriousness of the silken flower, drinking the nectar, gathering pollen. 

Pollen, by the way, is plant sperm.

The pollinator’s happy sipping that plant-wine. The plant’s very excited because it’s getting . . . laid.

The pollen moves from one flower to another as the bees and other pollinators (such as wasps, flies, butterflies, moths, ants, sometimes even humans) move around in the orgy. The goal for the flower, who have put on this party, is for the pollen grains to attach to the lady part of the flower. The top of this part is called a stigma (think vagina opening). The pollen travels down the tube and fertilizes the female “eggs” in the ovule (think womb). Of course there are many variations of sexual intercourse in the plant world, so this isn’t the only way it happens . . . but you get the idea.

If fertilization occurs, the seeds (babies) ripen in the ovary and eventually are borne onto the soil—again through many variations: spontaneous explosion of the seed case, the wind might loosen and free them (think dandelions). Animals, birds, and insects might dine on the seeds and later deposit them. When seeds land on the sweet earth and the conditions are right they germinate, grow, reach maturity.

And the orgy invitations will go out again next season.

—Sandra Knauf



Excerpt from Fifty Shades of Green, “Exploding Alfalfa”

Lessons in botany can be very . . . arousing, as this story about a native plant field trip with an eager student and a passionate professor shows. —SK

“I loved what you said about the alfalfa exploding.” I looked up into his eyes, and my longing connected with something within him. There was no turning back. Here goes, I thought. “I found it erotic.”
My remark caused a tremble in his hands. He turned to watch the last car pull out of the parking lot and head down the gravel road. His car’s trunk was open, ready for his books and gear. He turned to me and softly said, “Maybe you’ll write about it on your blog?”
My heart thudded. “You’ve read it?”
“A colleague forwards it to me every week. It’s quite a hit in the biology department.” At that he looked a little embarrassed and shy. My heart melted.
“Thank you, that means a lot.” I stepped closer, close enough to smell him. He smelled earthy and spicy and wonderful. I looked up at him; he met my gaze and smiled.
“Do you have any plans for lunch?” He gestured to his backpack. “I brought a couple of sandwiches, some fruit. I was going to eat in the car and then go up the trail to pick some more of those raspberries.” He suddenly seemed shy again.
“I would love to join you for lunch, Professor.” I saw that there was a wool blanket in the trunk next to the backpack and seized the opportunity. “I see you have a blanket. Why don’t we have a little picnic, and then you can show me where those berries are? It’ll be fun.”
He flushed again, and I knew then that he felt the same as I did. He grabbed his backpack from the trunk—and the blanket. “Come on, I’ll show you my favorite spot up here.”
We hiked back up the trail for a quarter mile and then went down a steep embankment to the stream. I couldn’t get over how wonderful the air smelled, how every cell of my body seemed electrified, and God, I was getting wet. Never had anything like this happened in my life. I had always been the shy, quiet nerd, and so, I could tell, had this man. Now I sensed he was growing more excited with every moment, too. He tried to make small talk, but it was no use, we could barely put a sentence together.
The spot we came to had a grassy area under a beautiful western river birch. No one could see anything from the trail as shrubs lined the road. The water was rushing so fast (like my heart) no one could possibly hear us . . .
“There are lots of raspberries up there, by the road,” he pointed.
“Mmmm. We’ll have to pick some on our way back . . .”
He laid out the blanket then turned around, took me in his arms and kissed me with a forcefulness that left me weak and wanting. He tasted sweet and salty, his scent was so good, dark woods, spice, musk. The embrace felt like more than just sexual excitement; it felt like a claiming. I pressed my body into his and discovered that his erection was enormous.
The world around us disappeared as we began fumbling with each other’s clothes, between fondling, exploring, kissing, sucking. We had a few moments of nervous laughter as we struggled with tugging off shoes and socks and underwear. And all through it I felt the building of an intense hunger.

—Gloria Holden

Blurb and buy links

Fifty Shades of Green is a garden of naughty delights!
Within our pages you'll discover:

- Virile gods and their mortal conquests.
- A community garden’s secret (and very dirty) fertility ritual.
- An Edwardian dominatrix living out her sadistic garden fantasies. 
- Student/teacher lessons in horticultural hotness.
- Young lovers seeking the help of green witches.
- A beautiful, blind priest who helps an injured traveler.
. . . and so much more.

Peek inside the garden gate.

(You know you want to.)

A dozen racy tales await.

Fifty Shades of Green is a collection of twelve delicious and erotic short stories with gardening themes. What you'll find in these pages is hotter than the hottest pepper on the Scoville index of heat! And smart, not smutty. Well . . . maybe a little smutty.

To Buy Fifty Shades of Green (it’s on sale, just for you):


Author Bio and Links

Publisher Sandra Knauf

Sandra Knauf has been a featured “Colorado Voices” columnist for The Denver Post and her humorous essays have appeared nationally in GreenPrints, an Utne Reader award-nominated garden writing journal. She has also been a guest commentator on KRCC’s (a NPR affiliate station) “Western Skies” radio show. In addition to Fifty Shades of Green, her publishing company has published six volumes of the garden writing journal Greenwoman, a young adult fantasy/sci-fi novel, Zera and the Green Man, and other works.


Gloria Holden fell in love with plants at the age of seven, when she pressed a pinto bean (culled from her family's dinner) into the soil—and the miracle of life revealed itself. When she grew up and became a mother she decided to follow her obsession and write about the green world. She marvels daily at the splendors of creation and feels that connecting with this force is the key to . . . everything. This is her first erotic story.               

FREE Sample Stories!

To sample two free stories from Fifty Shades of Green visit our Garden Shorts website.

If you sign up for our newsletter you will be sent “Seed” (our sexy story about a community garden’s secret fertility ritual).

To read “Phallus Impudicus,” (a tale about the horny god Pan’s visit with a lonely gardener) just click on the Fifty Shades SAMPLE! tab