Giselle Renarde's Blog, page 113
October 9, 2012
Excerptfest 2012: Faithful John and the Dungeon Ravens
In this loose adaptation of the Grimm Brothers' tale Faithful John, the queen's untimely death leaves her son in charge of the brothel-like castle dungeon. Though her devoted servant, Faithful John, promised the queen he would keep the young man from the cursed Mistress Mei, nothing can divide royalty and young love. When the young king asks for her hand in marriage, she realizes her acceptance is a death sentence and says yes even so. Can Faithful John save Mistress Mei from her prescribed fate, or will his devotion see him turned to stone?EXCERPT:
Faithful John paused at the foot of the stairs, turning to face the boy. “On her deathbed, your mother asked me to share this secret with you.”
“Is this a torture chamber?”
“Only for those who wouldn’t wish it,” Faithful John began. “For those who would, it is desire fulfilled.”
Walking ahead, the devoted servant pulled open a rich velvet curtain to reveal a scene the likes of which young Edward might never have conceived. On a thick lumber platform in the cold stone room lay a bald man. He was on his back, immobilized, his ankles tied to his wrists like a giant naked pig ready for roasting.
When the stunning creature securing the knots stepped out from behind the pig-man, Faithful John made the introductions. “Edward, meet Mistress Jasmina. Jasmina, our new King.”
Her full breasts bounced as she curtsied, a move that seemed to Edward excessively formal for a woman wearing only a leather half-corset. Mesmerized by the sway of her bronze tits with their dark, pointed nipples, he only noticed the polished wooden phallus she wore when she began petting it.
“Are you here to watch?” she asked. Her words were shaped formally, but syrup-sweet. “To assess my performance, perhaps?”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” he stammered, glancing quickly up at Faithful John before returning his drooling gaze to Jasmina.
“Not to be a bother,” the stuck pig spoke up, “but could somebody close the curtain? Rather drafty ‘round the nether regions, I should say.”
“Shut up, pig,” Mistress Jasmina commanded in a tone hard and firm. “I’m speaking with the king. Do you fancy yourself more important that the king?”
“No, Mistress,” he gushed. “I’m sorry, Mistress. Sorry, King Edward. My deepest sympathy, by the way, on the passing of your dear mother.”
“Shut up, you loud-mouthed swine!” she scolded. With a casual shrug, she said to Faithful John, “This is why I usually gag them.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” Edward intruded. “What has this man done to deserve such punishment? And what is that you’re wearing around your waist?”
A chuckle like grains of sugar glittered from Jasmina’s pink lips. “Such innocence! It’s rare, nowadays.”
“This place is a playground for people who find pleasure in pain,” Faithful John revealed.
The giddy excitement fell from Edward’s face, though not from his pants. “Why would my mother allow this?”
“She built it,” the servant replied.
***
Faithful John and the Dungeon Ravens is a BDSM/fantasy/historical/fairy tale type of story, and it's available from Xcite: http://www.xcitebooks.co.uk/Book/6314/Faithful-John-and-the-Dungeon-Ravens.html
Oh, and one thing I noticed about the site is that you can scroll down and on the left you can change the currency from pounds to US dollars, depending on what you've got to spend. I think it's currently listed at only $0.99 or £0.65!
Hugs,
GiselleGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
Excerptfest 2012: Third Rail
I've written a lot of ebooks. I'd give you a number, but in truth I've lost count. Somewhere around 100 maybe? I don't even know.
When you have a lot of work on the market, it's actually kind of hard to market it. And when I say hard, I mean overwhelming. Especially when you've written books you've totally forgotten about.
So I'm sitting here, trying to remember. I'm checking out my publishers' sites and saying, "Hey, lookie here! I wrote that book!" I'm also thinking, I should post this excerpt on my blog. So that's what I'm going to do. And I'm starting with... (drum roll please)...
Third Rail, published in the transfix line at loveyoudivine Alterotica:
Perhaps it is a touch unusual to have a girlfriend and boyfriend both living in the same body, but Kokoro doesn’t classify her relationship with Fiona and Martin as strange. Kokoro rides the third rail, a dutifully subservient lover to both aspects of her transgendered partner’s psyche.
EXCERPT:
“Come on, let’s say goodnight to Fiona,” Fiona said, shifting Kokoro from her lap and heading for the stairs. She extended her hand, but still Kokoro stayed planted in the kitchen. “Why aren’t you coming? You really think I’m going to let you sleep on the floor?”
“No, it’s not that,” Kokoro replied, cuddling into the chair abandoned by her beautiful Domme.
“What then?”
“I just hate saying goodbye.”
With a tender smile, Fiona ambled across the kitchen. Kokoro observed their blue-tinged reflections in the glass door as her sensitive lover kissed her hair and consoled, “I hate saying goodbye to Fiona, too, but I can’t very well wear the wig to bed, now can I? And, anyway, even after Fiona’s gone, you’ve still got Martin to play with.”
“Yeah…” Kokoro smirked, scrunching her nose in a deliberate effort to appear snide. “Not really the same, is it?”
Fiona shook her head, slipping the gold bracelet from her wrist. “When did I become my own rival for your affections?”
“It’s all your fault. You’re the one who introduced yourselves to me.”
You might find this older version
of the book cover on certain sites.
Same book, different cover.The bedroom had been tidied to a certain degree, though clothing still hung from the hooks behind the door. The jewellery strewn across her dressing table elicited visions of Ali Baba’s cave: gold and gold, and then some more gold on top of that when Fiona removed her earrings.
“I’ve never once seen your boy clothes when I’ve been here,” Kokoro realized.
Fiona shrugged, tilting her head. “I don’t like to look at them unless I have to.”
“Like you’ll have to tomorrow morning when you get ready for work?”
Shuddering, Fiona moaned, “Don’t remind me.” A winged insect of some sort abducted her gaze, and she focused on it for a long while.
Kokoro let her bra and panties fall to the floor, slipping into the silk chemise she’d brought along, all while Fiona watched the flying creature buzz desperately along the line where the bedroom wall met the ceiling. The night air was chilly. Kokoro slipped into Nuala’s side of the bed.
“I could close my eyes, if you’d prefer,” Kokoro offered, breaking Fiona’s concentration.
“What do you mean?”
“While you change. I don’t have to watch if you don’t want me to.”
“If I didn’t want you to see, you wouldn’t be here.”
Kokoro sighed. “You make everything so difficult.”
With a shrug, Fiona giggled, “That’s my prerogative. Every good girlfriend knows how to make things difficult for her partner. Now, then, are we ready for the wig to come off?”
Absorbing the image of beautiful Fiona, the preferred aspect of this duo, Kokoro nodded, and the wig returned to its home in the closet. Martin tussled his tawny hair, but it still stuck straight up. He unbuttoned the white shirt and squirmed out of his long skirt, hanging both on the back of the bedroom door. The bra was white. The panties were, too. A vicious Domme in basic white undies? But for Fiona, somehow it worked.
Kokoro didn’t need to follow her into the bathroom; she could see Fiona’s reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. It was Martin who rubbed out Fiona with makeup pads, Martin who removed the shimmer from her lips and around her eyes, Martin who scrubbed away her existence with apricot exfoliant. And yet, how can I resent Martin when, truly, he and Fiona were one and the same? Without Martin, there would be no Fiona. Without Fiona, there would be no Martin. It worked both ways.
“Feel how warm these get,” Martin glowed, handing her two heavy-duty water balloons that, seconds ago, had been breasts.
“Oh yeah…” Kokoro replied, watching Martin slip off one then another pair of big white underpants.
“Do you really have to wear granny panties? They are so unattractive. Would it kill you to buy a little lace, a few thongs?”
Naked before her, Martin raised an eyebrow. “Takes a lot more than a thong to keep this thing in check,” he replied. “Besides, who wants something crammed up her backside all day?”
Now it was Kokoro’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I’m guessing we’re still talking about thongs?”
“Yes, Koko,” Martin scolded as he fished through his drawer of silky nighties, settling on the pink one. “Why? What would you prefer to have crammed up your backside?”
“I don’t know,” Kokoro gurgled. “Weren’t you just saying you needed some place to conceal your cock?”
Martin growled deep in his throat as he turned off the light. Crawling on top of the covers in the pitch-blackness, he was on top of her in no time. He found her intuitively, found her mouth with his as she ran her hands across his silk-lined back, sighing at the luxury.
The boy was back in town.
Sure, he was wearing a nightie, but the pure passion of the masculine aspect was back in full force. His hands caressed her cheeks, ran madly through her hair, and his lust ignited that which had ebbed in her. Kokoro moaned at the kisses of his mouth, glad for the darkness. Fiona was so much prettier, but she’d been put in the cupboard.
“Do you know how hot you get me, Koko?” he whispered, his breath sizzling in her ear. Martin’s voice was not Fiona’s. There was an overlap, but it was not the same. This voice had depth and a resonance that brewed lust in her core.
“So hot, Koko. You get me so hot.”
And he wasn’t lying. His cock was hard as he rubbed it against her mound. Even with two layers of silk, a sheet and a coverlet between them, he knew precisely where to stroke.
***
I actually made a trailer for this wee $2 ebook, and you can view it at lyd's site: http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=66&products_id=570 Just scroll to the bottom of the page. You can also buy a copy there, which would please me greatly. heh.
More excerpts to come!
Hugs,
GiselleGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
When you have a lot of work on the market, it's actually kind of hard to market it. And when I say hard, I mean overwhelming. Especially when you've written books you've totally forgotten about.
So I'm sitting here, trying to remember. I'm checking out my publishers' sites and saying, "Hey, lookie here! I wrote that book!" I'm also thinking, I should post this excerpt on my blog. So that's what I'm going to do. And I'm starting with... (drum roll please)...
Third Rail, published in the transfix line at loveyoudivine Alterotica:Perhaps it is a touch unusual to have a girlfriend and boyfriend both living in the same body, but Kokoro doesn’t classify her relationship with Fiona and Martin as strange. Kokoro rides the third rail, a dutifully subservient lover to both aspects of her transgendered partner’s psyche.
EXCERPT:
“Come on, let’s say goodnight to Fiona,” Fiona said, shifting Kokoro from her lap and heading for the stairs. She extended her hand, but still Kokoro stayed planted in the kitchen. “Why aren’t you coming? You really think I’m going to let you sleep on the floor?”
“No, it’s not that,” Kokoro replied, cuddling into the chair abandoned by her beautiful Domme.
“What then?”
“I just hate saying goodbye.”
With a tender smile, Fiona ambled across the kitchen. Kokoro observed their blue-tinged reflections in the glass door as her sensitive lover kissed her hair and consoled, “I hate saying goodbye to Fiona, too, but I can’t very well wear the wig to bed, now can I? And, anyway, even after Fiona’s gone, you’ve still got Martin to play with.”
“Yeah…” Kokoro smirked, scrunching her nose in a deliberate effort to appear snide. “Not really the same, is it?”
Fiona shook her head, slipping the gold bracelet from her wrist. “When did I become my own rival for your affections?”
“It’s all your fault. You’re the one who introduced yourselves to me.”
You might find this older versionof the book cover on certain sites.
Same book, different cover.The bedroom had been tidied to a certain degree, though clothing still hung from the hooks behind the door. The jewellery strewn across her dressing table elicited visions of Ali Baba’s cave: gold and gold, and then some more gold on top of that when Fiona removed her earrings.
“I’ve never once seen your boy clothes when I’ve been here,” Kokoro realized.
Fiona shrugged, tilting her head. “I don’t like to look at them unless I have to.”
“Like you’ll have to tomorrow morning when you get ready for work?”
Shuddering, Fiona moaned, “Don’t remind me.” A winged insect of some sort abducted her gaze, and she focused on it for a long while.
Kokoro let her bra and panties fall to the floor, slipping into the silk chemise she’d brought along, all while Fiona watched the flying creature buzz desperately along the line where the bedroom wall met the ceiling. The night air was chilly. Kokoro slipped into Nuala’s side of the bed.
“I could close my eyes, if you’d prefer,” Kokoro offered, breaking Fiona’s concentration.
“What do you mean?”
“While you change. I don’t have to watch if you don’t want me to.”
“If I didn’t want you to see, you wouldn’t be here.”
Kokoro sighed. “You make everything so difficult.”
With a shrug, Fiona giggled, “That’s my prerogative. Every good girlfriend knows how to make things difficult for her partner. Now, then, are we ready for the wig to come off?”
Absorbing the image of beautiful Fiona, the preferred aspect of this duo, Kokoro nodded, and the wig returned to its home in the closet. Martin tussled his tawny hair, but it still stuck straight up. He unbuttoned the white shirt and squirmed out of his long skirt, hanging both on the back of the bedroom door. The bra was white. The panties were, too. A vicious Domme in basic white undies? But for Fiona, somehow it worked.
Kokoro didn’t need to follow her into the bathroom; she could see Fiona’s reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. It was Martin who rubbed out Fiona with makeup pads, Martin who removed the shimmer from her lips and around her eyes, Martin who scrubbed away her existence with apricot exfoliant. And yet, how can I resent Martin when, truly, he and Fiona were one and the same? Without Martin, there would be no Fiona. Without Fiona, there would be no Martin. It worked both ways.
“Feel how warm these get,” Martin glowed, handing her two heavy-duty water balloons that, seconds ago, had been breasts.
“Oh yeah…” Kokoro replied, watching Martin slip off one then another pair of big white underpants.
“Do you really have to wear granny panties? They are so unattractive. Would it kill you to buy a little lace, a few thongs?”
Naked before her, Martin raised an eyebrow. “Takes a lot more than a thong to keep this thing in check,” he replied. “Besides, who wants something crammed up her backside all day?”
Now it was Kokoro’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I’m guessing we’re still talking about thongs?”
“Yes, Koko,” Martin scolded as he fished through his drawer of silky nighties, settling on the pink one. “Why? What would you prefer to have crammed up your backside?”
“I don’t know,” Kokoro gurgled. “Weren’t you just saying you needed some place to conceal your cock?”
Martin growled deep in his throat as he turned off the light. Crawling on top of the covers in the pitch-blackness, he was on top of her in no time. He found her intuitively, found her mouth with his as she ran her hands across his silk-lined back, sighing at the luxury.
The boy was back in town.
Sure, he was wearing a nightie, but the pure passion of the masculine aspect was back in full force. His hands caressed her cheeks, ran madly through her hair, and his lust ignited that which had ebbed in her. Kokoro moaned at the kisses of his mouth, glad for the darkness. Fiona was so much prettier, but she’d been put in the cupboard.
“Do you know how hot you get me, Koko?” he whispered, his breath sizzling in her ear. Martin’s voice was not Fiona’s. There was an overlap, but it was not the same. This voice had depth and a resonance that brewed lust in her core.
“So hot, Koko. You get me so hot.”
And he wasn’t lying. His cock was hard as he rubbed it against her mound. Even with two layers of silk, a sheet and a coverlet between them, he knew precisely where to stroke.
***
I actually made a trailer for this wee $2 ebook, and you can view it at lyd's site: http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=66&products_id=570 Just scroll to the bottom of the page. You can also buy a copy there, which would please me greatly. heh.
More excerpts to come!
Hugs,
GiselleGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
October 6, 2012
Fairies, Ghosts, Witches, Weres, and Vamps (Oh My!)
It begins! Mwahahahaha!
The stores around here are full of candies and costumes--it's beginning to look a lot like Halloween!
And, to celebrate all things paranormal, I've got a lot of ghostie/fantasy/witchy/werey/vampy ebooks hitting the market this October. The first one is a lot of fun. It's a lesbian comedy about a couple of urban fairies trying to make a quick buck off cash-for-gold programs. Good luck, right? Anyway, they don't actually have any gold, so... I guess they're going to have to break into a couple mansions and steal some. That's lazy fairy logic for ya.
Thieving Fairies By: Giselle Renarde
Published By: JMS Books LLC
Published: Oct 05, 2012
ISBN # 9781611522983 Word Count: 5,646Heat Index
DescriptionFairy mutt Honoria and her purebred wife Shelagh are knee-deep in junk mail and overdue bills. Their bachelor pad apartment isn't big enough for the two of them and they spend their days at each others' throats.
Despite the difficulties of city life, Honoria's dead-set against using their magical powers. Even when Shelagh devises a plot to make money off fairy gold, her girl won't go for it. Honoria would rather steal the old-fashioned way than end up in a military facility after the government catches wind of their abilities -- which isn't so far-fetched a concern.
When Shelagh insists they can earn a living off cash-for-gold services, the irritable couple begins a career in small-time thievery and find a life of crime provides a welcome boost to their sex life. Who knew breaking and entering would be such a turn-on?
Excerpt:“No,” Honoria said to pre-empt whatever unlawful request her wife was about to make. “I’ve gotten myself into enough trouble for you. Do it yourself this time.”
With theatrical pout, Shelagh said, “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask yet.”
“Yes, I do.” Honoria shook her finger like a turn-of-the-century schoolmistress. “You put on those puppy dog eyes and spin me a tale about criminal behaviour solving all our money problems. You know what would solve our money problems? If you got a damn job!”
Shelagh threw her head back with a cruel laugh. “Oh, right, like this is all my fault. Maybe if you could last more than a week at a job without getting fired ...”
“Hey, I told you I’m not good with people. Those damn managers want you to be sickeningly perky all the time. You should hear the way customers talk down to me! I’m not going to take that shit.”
Tightening her housecoat around her waist, Shelagh took a deep breath. The argument was not ingratiating Honoria to her idea. “Well, my plan doesn’t involve interacting with people. Exactly the opposite.”
Honoria tried to ignore her. She picked up a novel from the bedside table and flipped through it. She couldn’t reject Shelagh’s idea without at least hearing her wife out, could she? That didn’t show much respect. Picking up the TV remote, she hit the mute button. “You get one pitch. Make it good.”
“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking.” Shelagh’s fingers wriggled with excitement. If Honoria wasn’t so on edge, she might even find it cute. “Gold is at record-setting prices right now ...”
She smiled. “Yeah, I heard the Australian, too.”
“So you fly out to Rosedale ...”
“No flying.” Shelagh should know better than to try that one. Honoria had a hard and fast rule about flying in the city.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. She took a quick breath, and the saccharine smile once again reared its syrupy head. “You take the subway out to Rosedale, sneak into a few houses, get us some gold, and send it off in the convenient postage-paid envelope.”
Honoria stared right through Shelagh’s pyjama-clad body to the muted talk show on television. “You want me to steal for you,” she stated calmly.
“For us,” Shelagh reassured her. “The alternative ...” When Honoria’s attention swerved to the TV, Shelagh turned off the set. “The alternative is to make fairy gold.”
Honoria couldn’t believe her ears. She shook her head in disbelief. “You sure know how to get me riled up, woman.”
“I’m just saying ...”
“No.” Honoria put her foot down. Nobody back home believed she could survive in the city without using her gifts. She had to prove them wrong.
“What could be easier?” Shelagh said in a nursery maid’s sing-song. “You go outside, fetch a clump of grass, say a few words, and poof! We have gold.”
Honoria had said no, and she’d say it again. “I’m not going to cheat. You know I won’t, so stop tempting me, okay?”
If only Shelagh would put her powers of seduction to work in the bedroom, maybe they wouldn’t argue so much. Gone were the days of furtive glances and playful grabs, nails dragged across backs and fists pounding on the wall while neighbours shouted, Keep it down in there!
Maybe they needed an actual bedroom before they could re-ignite their bedroom eyes.
“You know exactly what’ll happen if we send fairy gold. We cash our cheque and, ten minutes later, our gold turns back to grass cuttings.”
“But it’ll all be mixed in with other people’s gold by then. They won’t know it’s ours.”
“No, Shelagh, no! You can’t think that way.” A shooting pain coursed through her temple and she pressed her palm to the side of her head. It hurt Honoria physically when they quarrelled. She couldn’t take much more. “You have to assume whatever can go wrong will. If we get caught cashing in fairy gold, what happens? We get found out. They track us down thinking we’re aliens or whatever. We get forced into some military testing facility like Adrianna was. I can’t let that happen to us, babe.”
With a deep sigh, Honoria considered the big picture. Rent was due in two weeks’ time. Where the hell was it coming from, if not Shelagh’s little scheme?
***
Thieving Fairies is now available from JMS Books, All Romance, and more!
Stay tuned for more paranormal activity!
Hugs,
Giselle Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
The stores around here are full of candies and costumes--it's beginning to look a lot like Halloween!
And, to celebrate all things paranormal, I've got a lot of ghostie/fantasy/witchy/werey/vampy ebooks hitting the market this October. The first one is a lot of fun. It's a lesbian comedy about a couple of urban fairies trying to make a quick buck off cash-for-gold programs. Good luck, right? Anyway, they don't actually have any gold, so... I guess they're going to have to break into a couple mansions and steal some. That's lazy fairy logic for ya.
Thieving Fairies By: Giselle Renarde
Published By: JMS Books LLC
Published: Oct 05, 2012
ISBN # 9781611522983 Word Count: 5,646Heat Index
DescriptionFairy mutt Honoria and her purebred wife Shelagh are knee-deep in junk mail and overdue bills. Their bachelor pad apartment isn't big enough for the two of them and they spend their days at each others' throats.
Despite the difficulties of city life, Honoria's dead-set against using their magical powers. Even when Shelagh devises a plot to make money off fairy gold, her girl won't go for it. Honoria would rather steal the old-fashioned way than end up in a military facility after the government catches wind of their abilities -- which isn't so far-fetched a concern.
When Shelagh insists they can earn a living off cash-for-gold services, the irritable couple begins a career in small-time thievery and find a life of crime provides a welcome boost to their sex life. Who knew breaking and entering would be such a turn-on?
Excerpt:“No,” Honoria said to pre-empt whatever unlawful request her wife was about to make. “I’ve gotten myself into enough trouble for you. Do it yourself this time.”
With theatrical pout, Shelagh said, “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask yet.”
“Yes, I do.” Honoria shook her finger like a turn-of-the-century schoolmistress. “You put on those puppy dog eyes and spin me a tale about criminal behaviour solving all our money problems. You know what would solve our money problems? If you got a damn job!”
Shelagh threw her head back with a cruel laugh. “Oh, right, like this is all my fault. Maybe if you could last more than a week at a job without getting fired ...”
“Hey, I told you I’m not good with people. Those damn managers want you to be sickeningly perky all the time. You should hear the way customers talk down to me! I’m not going to take that shit.”
Tightening her housecoat around her waist, Shelagh took a deep breath. The argument was not ingratiating Honoria to her idea. “Well, my plan doesn’t involve interacting with people. Exactly the opposite.”
Honoria tried to ignore her. She picked up a novel from the bedside table and flipped through it. She couldn’t reject Shelagh’s idea without at least hearing her wife out, could she? That didn’t show much respect. Picking up the TV remote, she hit the mute button. “You get one pitch. Make it good.”
“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking.” Shelagh’s fingers wriggled with excitement. If Honoria wasn’t so on edge, she might even find it cute. “Gold is at record-setting prices right now ...”
She smiled. “Yeah, I heard the Australian, too.”
“So you fly out to Rosedale ...”
“No flying.” Shelagh should know better than to try that one. Honoria had a hard and fast rule about flying in the city.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. She took a quick breath, and the saccharine smile once again reared its syrupy head. “You take the subway out to Rosedale, sneak into a few houses, get us some gold, and send it off in the convenient postage-paid envelope.”
Honoria stared right through Shelagh’s pyjama-clad body to the muted talk show on television. “You want me to steal for you,” she stated calmly.
“For us,” Shelagh reassured her. “The alternative ...” When Honoria’s attention swerved to the TV, Shelagh turned off the set. “The alternative is to make fairy gold.”
Honoria couldn’t believe her ears. She shook her head in disbelief. “You sure know how to get me riled up, woman.”
“I’m just saying ...”
“No.” Honoria put her foot down. Nobody back home believed she could survive in the city without using her gifts. She had to prove them wrong.
“What could be easier?” Shelagh said in a nursery maid’s sing-song. “You go outside, fetch a clump of grass, say a few words, and poof! We have gold.”
Honoria had said no, and she’d say it again. “I’m not going to cheat. You know I won’t, so stop tempting me, okay?”
If only Shelagh would put her powers of seduction to work in the bedroom, maybe they wouldn’t argue so much. Gone were the days of furtive glances and playful grabs, nails dragged across backs and fists pounding on the wall while neighbours shouted, Keep it down in there!
Maybe they needed an actual bedroom before they could re-ignite their bedroom eyes.
“You know exactly what’ll happen if we send fairy gold. We cash our cheque and, ten minutes later, our gold turns back to grass cuttings.”
“But it’ll all be mixed in with other people’s gold by then. They won’t know it’s ours.”
“No, Shelagh, no! You can’t think that way.” A shooting pain coursed through her temple and she pressed her palm to the side of her head. It hurt Honoria physically when they quarrelled. She couldn’t take much more. “You have to assume whatever can go wrong will. If we get caught cashing in fairy gold, what happens? We get found out. They track us down thinking we’re aliens or whatever. We get forced into some military testing facility like Adrianna was. I can’t let that happen to us, babe.”
With a deep sigh, Honoria considered the big picture. Rent was due in two weeks’ time. Where the hell was it coming from, if not Shelagh’s little scheme?
***
Thieving Fairies is now available from JMS Books, All Romance, and more!
Stay tuned for more paranormal activity!
Hugs,
Giselle Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
October 5, 2012
Gag Me With A Spoon
It's official: nothing is sacred. Look at this ad in my program from the Canadian Opera Company's production of Die Fledermaus:
That's right! You big-time lovers of the bestest cultural phenomenon that ever did exist ever-ever-EVER can now get Fifty Shades of Grey THE ALBUM (at Indigo, apparently). Gosh, sorry for all the caps but I haven't been so darn excited to live in Toronto since I spotted that bus ad for labiaplasty on the TTC. Oh, and in case you heard about this album, which is without a doubt super-amazing, and had the gall to forget, now you can be reminded of its existence whenever you go to the opera this fall. And you thought you could escape low culture at the Four Seasons Centre! Mwahahaha... the bat's revenge!
I think I'll cancel my subscription now. Or maybe after I hurl. We'll see.
*gags*
Giselle
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
That's right! You big-time lovers of the bestest cultural phenomenon that ever did exist ever-ever-EVER can now get Fifty Shades of Grey THE ALBUM (at Indigo, apparently). Gosh, sorry for all the caps but I haven't been so darn excited to live in Toronto since I spotted that bus ad for labiaplasty on the TTC. Oh, and in case you heard about this album, which is without a doubt super-amazing, and had the gall to forget, now you can be reminded of its existence whenever you go to the opera this fall. And you thought you could escape low culture at the Four Seasons Centre! Mwahahaha... the bat's revenge!
I think I'll cancel my subscription now. Or maybe after I hurl. We'll see.
*gags*
Giselle
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
October 3, 2012
1-Day 1-Dollar Sale!
Wednesday October 3, 2012:Today only (okay, and maybe tomorrow too) you can score a copy of the latest Wedding Heat title, Wedding Heat: Swing Low, for the low low price of $1 at All Romance ebooks!
The regular retail price of this and all Wedding Heat ebooks is $2.99, so $1 is a steal! Get it while it's cheap!
Wedding Heat: Swing Low is a BDSM threesome story about a swinging married couple, Denitsa and Neil, and their adventurous sister-in-law Suki. There's a sex swing, a strap-on, a whip, and so much more!
Don't delay. Buy today: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-weddingheatswinglowmffbdsm-960767-147.html Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
October 2, 2012
Nuit Blanche Redux and Big Discoveries
People are always asking me what the hell "nuit blanche" means. Directly translated, it's "white night" (most can figure out that much on their own), but it kind of means sleepless night, awake all night, that sort of thing.
Nuit Blanche is also an all-night arts festival that's held in cities worldwide. Here in Toronto, we just had ours September 29th, from sundown to dawn. It really does run all night. And, as you might expect, the downtown core is packed with drunk kids and the whole city smells like pot, but if you avoid the patches of vomit along the sidewalk and try not to see all the garbage people have thrown on the streets, you can see some really amazing things.
I stopped attending Nuit Blanche for a couple years, mainly because for a while it seemed like events were getting really spread. You had to walk a long while to get to one, and then once you got there it was pretty "meh." I'm not exactly sure why I returned this year, but I'm glad I did.
The new Ryerson Image Centre opened its doors with an excellent inaugural exhibition (my favourite part was the panoramic views of Northern Canada), and I also spent a long while at the... oh, what was it called? I want to say "World Championship High-Five Competition" in the front lawn of Campbell House. Members of the public competed in pairs, putting together high-five routines, and they did it in a ring with full colour commentary. It was hilarious.
But the best event by far was at TIFF Bell Lightbox, a YouTube-centric show called Like/Comment/Subscribe hosted by Andrew Gunadie, a.k.a @gunnarolla. And friends. And a lot of friends, actually, because his shows all featured a musical guest.
And now we come to my loveliest discovery of the night: Mitchell Moffit. When he walked on stage, I thought to myself "this guy will be the next Owen Pallett." Sure enough, he started looping tracks and singing and I couldn't believe my first impression was so on the money. He was aaaaamazing! Amazing! Incredibly, the performance I saw was his first live gig ever. I was blown away, so I tracked down his website where you and I and everyone can download his album FOR FREE (with his blessing--he wants you to have it!)
Here's Mitchell Moffit's website: http://www.mitchellmoffit.com/ If you and I have the same taste in music, you're bound to love him.
K, that's it for now.
Giselle out.
hehGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
Nuit Blanche is also an all-night arts festival that's held in cities worldwide. Here in Toronto, we just had ours September 29th, from sundown to dawn. It really does run all night. And, as you might expect, the downtown core is packed with drunk kids and the whole city smells like pot, but if you avoid the patches of vomit along the sidewalk and try not to see all the garbage people have thrown on the streets, you can see some really amazing things.
I stopped attending Nuit Blanche for a couple years, mainly because for a while it seemed like events were getting really spread. You had to walk a long while to get to one, and then once you got there it was pretty "meh." I'm not exactly sure why I returned this year, but I'm glad I did.
The new Ryerson Image Centre opened its doors with an excellent inaugural exhibition (my favourite part was the panoramic views of Northern Canada), and I also spent a long while at the... oh, what was it called? I want to say "World Championship High-Five Competition" in the front lawn of Campbell House. Members of the public competed in pairs, putting together high-five routines, and they did it in a ring with full colour commentary. It was hilarious.
But the best event by far was at TIFF Bell Lightbox, a YouTube-centric show called Like/Comment/Subscribe hosted by Andrew Gunadie, a.k.a @gunnarolla. And friends. And a lot of friends, actually, because his shows all featured a musical guest.
And now we come to my loveliest discovery of the night: Mitchell Moffit. When he walked on stage, I thought to myself "this guy will be the next Owen Pallett." Sure enough, he started looping tracks and singing and I couldn't believe my first impression was so on the money. He was aaaaamazing! Amazing! Incredibly, the performance I saw was his first live gig ever. I was blown away, so I tracked down his website where you and I and everyone can download his album FOR FREE (with his blessing--he wants you to have it!)
Here's Mitchell Moffit's website: http://www.mitchellmoffit.com/ If you and I have the same taste in music, you're bound to love him.
K, that's it for now.
Giselle out.
hehGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
September 30, 2012
Guest Post: When in Rome by Lucy Felthouse
When in Rome by Lucy Felthouse
I've found that the longer I've been writing, the more I find inspiration in the strangest places. And sometimes the inspiration doesn't strike me until much later. My story in Smut in the City is a perfect example of this.
I went to Rome back in May for the first time. I fully expected to come home with some ideas for stories, and given I needed to get my story written for Smut in the City when I got back, then that was perfect. What I wasn't expecting, however, was for the inspiration to come from the Colosseum. It's an absolutely awe-inspiring place, but it's so busy and crowded that getting up to anything sexy would grant you a large audience of onlookers and possibly some time spent in an Italian jail.
But, would you believe, a metal barrier and a sign gave me an idea. The whole structure is ancient and crumbling, but there's a particular part of it which is fenced off from the public as it is apparently more dangerous than the rest. And it's here that I set the sex scene from my story. My horny characters slipped past the warning barrier and had some kinky fun with thousands of people just feet away from them.
And voila, Within the Crumbling Walls was born. Now, I know my ideas are sparked by unusual things, but I think a metal barrier has got to be the strangest.
*****
Sultry, smouldering sex in the city is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.
From the stifling heat of the London Underground to the crumbling walls of Rome’s Colosseum, Smut in the City has it all. Whatever your interpretation of sultry urban sex, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Lusty couples, horny office workers, hunky bakers and gardeners, tourists and the Mafia are portrayed for your titillation in this exciting collection of stories
from erotica’s finest authors.
More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-in-the-city/
*****
Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's never
looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Ellora's Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk.
Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
I've found that the longer I've been writing, the more I find inspiration in the strangest places. And sometimes the inspiration doesn't strike me until much later. My story in Smut in the City is a perfect example of this.
I went to Rome back in May for the first time. I fully expected to come home with some ideas for stories, and given I needed to get my story written for Smut in the City when I got back, then that was perfect. What I wasn't expecting, however, was for the inspiration to come from the Colosseum. It's an absolutely awe-inspiring place, but it's so busy and crowded that getting up to anything sexy would grant you a large audience of onlookers and possibly some time spent in an Italian jail.
But, would you believe, a metal barrier and a sign gave me an idea. The whole structure is ancient and crumbling, but there's a particular part of it which is fenced off from the public as it is apparently more dangerous than the rest. And it's here that I set the sex scene from my story. My horny characters slipped past the warning barrier and had some kinky fun with thousands of people just feet away from them.
And voila, Within the Crumbling Walls was born. Now, I know my ideas are sparked by unusual things, but I think a metal barrier has got to be the strangest.
*****
Sultry, smouldering sex in the city is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.From the stifling heat of the London Underground to the crumbling walls of Rome’s Colosseum, Smut in the City has it all. Whatever your interpretation of sultry urban sex, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Lusty couples, horny office workers, hunky bakers and gardeners, tourists and the Mafia are portrayed for your titillation in this exciting collection of stories
from erotica’s finest authors.
More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-in-the-city/
*****
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Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's neverlooked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Ellora's Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk.
Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
September 28, 2012
New Release! Wedding Heat: Swing Low (BDSM Menage Erotica)
Super-quick post today, and a plea that you pardon my recent absence from all forms of social media. Jury duty has been kicking my ass up and down the block (mainly down, because the courthouse is downtown) and I've accomplished next to nothing. But that doesn't mean I'm not irritable. Oh, goodness, you should see me now.
Anyway, wanted to let all you Wedding Heat fans know that the ninth story, Wedding Heat: Swing Low is NOW AVAILABLE from select retailers. Coming soon to more!
Swing Low is about swingers. And a sex swing. And anal fetish, male domination, BDSM, pussy licking, strap-on sex, fishnet body stockings... hell, I think there's more but I'm in a hurry so you'll just have to buy a copy and see for yourself.
Look at the time... damn it, back to court. Okay, here's the blurb and a dirty excerpt. Gotta go!
Forget the happy couple—it’s the guests that make this wedding sizzle!
Neil and Denitsa could be called many things—swingers, fetishists, sex toy connoisseurs, BDSM aficionados—but when they attend their nephew’s wedding, their wild sex life isn’t something they share with the family. Well, that’s not entirely true. After Neil stops off en route to buy a sex swing, fishnet body stockings, a whip and a brand new strap-on, he and Denitsa are eager to invite their sister-in-law Suki to play with their new toys. It’s been years since the three of them have gone to bed together. Does Suki still swing that way?
WARNINGS: This title contains bondage, domination, lesbian sex, anal fetish, sex toys, and MFF ménage.
EXCERPT:
Denitsa stood at the foot of the bed and waited. With every breath, she felt her bodystocking dig more ruthlessly into her skin. She could smell Suki’s cunt. Their mutual excitement was the perfume of nymphs.
“Stand still,” Neil instructed. He fitted a belt around Denitsa’s hips and buckled it at the back. She knew what it was by the heaviness in front of her. There were straps that went around her upper thighs too, and Neil buckled them so tight she wondered if she’d be able to move her legs.
“Open your eyes,” he said.
Denitsa gazed down at her sizeable black cock. It was big, but not too big, and in fact that surprised her. Neil so enjoyed watching her insert shockingly huge items into other women’s pussies. The dildo attached to this gorgeous leather harness appeared small for his taste.
The cat o’nine tails rested over Neil’s shoulder as he strode toward Suki’s upturned ass. Grabbing her cheeks with both hands, he spread them wide, giving Denitsa a superb view of her sweet asshole.
“I want you to fuck little sister’s ass,” Neil said before spitting into the groove of Suki’s crack. Her hole puckered as his frothy spit lingered above it.
“Is that all the lubrication she gets?” Denitsa asked. Now she understood why this dildo was smaller than the ones they had at home. Even so, the cock was large enough to cause Suki serious pain without considerable lube.
“Don’t get antsy,” Neil said. “Remember who’s holding the whip.”
Available now from:
eXcessica: http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6&products_id=593
Rainbow Ebooks: http://www.rainbowebooks.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=8927
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/240184
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
Call for Submissions: Chicken Soup/Lemons to Lemonade
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Chicken Soup for the Soul:
From Lemons to Lemonade
"When life hands you lemons... make lemonade!" And don't just make lemonade but squeeze out every last drop of juice from that sour lemon to make the sweetest lemonade possible. We are looking for true stories that show how you made the best of a challenging situation and turned it into something positive. Tell us your success stories and how you made them happen.
Here are examples of the kinds of "lemons to lemonade" stories we are imagining:
You got fired/laid off and discovered a new better careerYou prevailed over an illness or medical condition and found a wonderful silver liningYou overcame an addiction and found new purposeYou lost all your money and possessions and discovered new happiness with your familyYou went through a difficult time with your child but came out with a better relationshipYou lost a loved one and created a non-profit that is saving lives so other people don't go through the same loss
Please remember, we do not like "as told to" stories. Please write in the first person about yourself or someone close to you. If you ghostwrite a story for someone else we will list his or her name as the author. If a story was previously published, we will probably not use it unless it ran in a small circulation venue. Let us know where the story was previously published in the "Comments" section of the submission form. If the story was published in a past Chicken Soup for the Soul book, please do not submit it.
If your story or poem is chosen, you will be a published author and your bio will be printed in the book if you so choose. You will also receive a check for $200 and 10 free copies of your book, worth more than $100. You will retain the copyright for your story and you will retain the right to resell it.
SUBMISSIONS GO TO http://chickensoup.comSelect the Submit Your Story link on the left tool bar and follow the directions.
The deadline date for story and poem submissions is February 28, 2013. Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
Chicken Soup for the Soul:
From Lemons to Lemonade
"When life hands you lemons... make lemonade!" And don't just make lemonade but squeeze out every last drop of juice from that sour lemon to make the sweetest lemonade possible. We are looking for true stories that show how you made the best of a challenging situation and turned it into something positive. Tell us your success stories and how you made them happen.
Here are examples of the kinds of "lemons to lemonade" stories we are imagining:
You got fired/laid off and discovered a new better careerYou prevailed over an illness or medical condition and found a wonderful silver liningYou overcame an addiction and found new purposeYou lost all your money and possessions and discovered new happiness with your familyYou went through a difficult time with your child but came out with a better relationshipYou lost a loved one and created a non-profit that is saving lives so other people don't go through the same loss
Please remember, we do not like "as told to" stories. Please write in the first person about yourself or someone close to you. If you ghostwrite a story for someone else we will list his or her name as the author. If a story was previously published, we will probably not use it unless it ran in a small circulation venue. Let us know where the story was previously published in the "Comments" section of the submission form. If the story was published in a past Chicken Soup for the Soul book, please do not submit it.
If your story or poem is chosen, you will be a published author and your bio will be printed in the book if you so choose. You will also receive a check for $200 and 10 free copies of your book, worth more than $100. You will retain the copyright for your story and you will retain the right to resell it.
SUBMISSIONS GO TO http://chickensoup.comSelect the Submit Your Story link on the left tool bar and follow the directions.
The deadline date for story and poem submissions is February 28, 2013. Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
September 25, 2012
Smut in the City Release Blitz
Smut in the City, edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria BlisseSultry, smouldering sex in the city is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.
From the stifling heat of the London Underground to the crumbling walls of Rome’s Colosseum, Smut in the City has it all.
Whatever your interpretation of sultry urban sex, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Lusty couples, horny office workers, hunky bakers and gardeners, tourists and the Mafia are portrayed for your titillation in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.
eBook:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0...
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B009...
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/prod...
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/smut-...
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Smut-i...
Print:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/17...
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1782...
Excerpt:
Within the Crumbling Walls
By Lucy Felthouse
Exiting the Colosseo Metro station, Libby shot a grin at her boyfriend, Ciaran. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding it, do
you?”
“Hmm?” Ciaran frowned, then turned his gaze in the direction that Libby was pointing. He gave a sheepish smile. “No, I don’t
think we will. Shall we put the map away?”
Libby nodded, and Ciaran spun round so she should take the map and load it into his backpack. Zipping it back up, she patted
it twice to signal she was done. Ciaran turned and held out his hand. She took it, and together they took their lives in their
hands crossing the busy Roman road and walked to the Colosseum.
Despite the early hour, the queue was already considerable, and the couple exchanged a wry look. But then Libby remembered
something. “Hey, don’t look so glum babe. We can skip the queue, remember?”
Ciaran frowned. “We can?”
Pulling a small credit card shaped and sized item from her pocket, she replied, “Yes! Our Roma cards mean we can get in
quicker. That was one of the selling points the rep kept going on about when she was trying to flog them to us.”
Ciaran slapped his forehead theatrically, then retrieved his own card from his pocket. “Of course!” He used his not
inconsiderable height to peer over the heads of the group in front of him. “Okay, I see it. There’s a separate line for Roma Pass
holders, and it’s moving tons quicker. Hurrah!”
He made his way through the crowd, using a combination of touches on people’s backs and the words “excuse me.” Libby
followed quickly in his wake. Soon they were at the back of the very short and swiftly-moving queue. People passed through,
showing their cards to a very stern-looking Italian man, who nodded and pointed them towards another line.
This time they scanned their cards through some kind of barcode reader, and finally, they were in. Within the crumbling walls of
the ancient Colosseum, probably the most famous landmark in Rome. Looking around, Libby could see why.
Photos and videos didn’t do it justice. She wasn’t sure if Colosseum translated to colossal or not, but it was certainly the most
apt word to describe the place. It really was huge—and they hadn’t even seen the best part yet. Following Ciaran from the
ticket booth area—which was literally within the great walls—they passed out into the open area in the middle. Libby gasped. It
was amazing.
They were at ground level, with two or three levels above—she wasn’t sure which—and of course, the one below. Where the
gladiators, warriors and fierce creatures would have been kept before being forced to fight in the arena.
Realising Ciaran was gaping at the sight before them too, she encouraged him forward. “Come on, we’re kind of in the way
here.” Looking left, she saw an area which was fenced off and held warning signs urging the public not to enter. Libby snorted.
The whole place was falling to pieces, how could they possibly deem one section more dangerous than another?
Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the right and saw an area which would allow them a better view of the arena
floor. She grabbed Ciaran’s hand and pulled him with her.
Leaning on a barrier and looking out, Libby saw that arena “floor” was not an accurate description. At one end of the enormous
structure, a wooden base had been erected, but the rest of the oval was open, displaying what lay beneath. It looked like a
labyrinth, and suddenly she became aware of an English-speaking tour guide telling his group the history of the place. She
eavesdropped for a while, then fell to thinking how lucky she was to have been born in this day and age. She’d never know
anyone who’d be thrown to their deaths in such a place—or be forced to watch them killed in such a brutal manner.
*****
Lucy Felthouse: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk
Victoria Blisse: http://www.victoriablisse.co.ukGiselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!
http://www.wix.com/gisellerenarde/ero...
