Key Genius's Blog, page 204

#clusone #italy #heartofflesh #location

#clusone #italy #heartofflesh #location

#heartofflesh #dessert #chocolate #cream #food #desserts #candy...

#heartofflesh #dessert #chocolate #cream #food #desserts #candy #sweet #biscuits #yum #yummy #amazing #instafood #sweet #cake #icecream #delish #foods #delicious #tasty #eat #eating #hungry #foodpics #sweettooth

Nature is wonderful and full of secrets. #nature #tree #life...

Nature is wonderful and full of secrets. #nature #tree #life #instagood #love #photooftheday #perfect #relax #picoftheday #instadaily #bestoftheday #instacool #beautiful #cool #water #montain #landscape #green #river

#heartofflesh #kiss #love

#heartofflesh #kiss #love

#heartofflesh #excerpt from Chapter 17- Cream Biscuit

Andrea turns around, while Susanna is bent over the
other way, looking for something in the basket.

“Where did I put the biscuits?” she mutters,
leaning forward and sticking out her heart of flesh, seemingly wanting to get a
little sun.

Andrea looks more closely at its outline, still not seeing
sign of any panties. He sniggers, but hides it quickly when she turns around
again.

“Here they are,” she exclaims, packet of
biscuits in hand. They’re his favorite: chocolate with cream filling.

“Nice,” he says, arching his chest towards
her. “Can I have one?”

“I brought them on purpose,” she smiles. She
opens the packet and offers him one.

He shakes his head. “Open it for me,” he
says, kissing her neck. “Hold the two sides, turn slowly and pull them
apart.”

She does so and hands him the half with the cream on.

Andrew grabs her wrist, puts his thumb in her palm and
her breathing alters. He brings her hand closer and licks a hole in the cream
with just the tip of his firm tongue. He looks at her and swallows the sweet,
strong fingertip. She’s startled and her hand begins to shake. Then, he slowly
licks all the cream with light movements as he intertwines his fingers in hers.
He imagines that he’s licking her, her skin, his precious Susy.

Then, he leans forward for a kiss. “Thank you.”

She’s enveloped in embarrassment, her cheeks painted red.
“Do you always eat biscuits like that?” she jokes.

He caresses her neck with his lips, licks, kisses and
nibbles it slightly. “If my girlfriend’s not wearing anything under her
dress, yes.”

She doesn’t say anything and lets him cuddle her,
forgetting about the biscuit as it falls onto the tablecloth.

“Come to my house,” he pleads. “You’ve
not been since that night. It’s not fair.” He kisses her and squeezes her
waist with his hand.

“I don’t go into the lion’s den,” she
whispers.

“I won’t do anything compromising,” he
continues, moving his hand lightly over her leg. “I promise.” Feeling
her skin so warm, he slips it under her skirt. “Go on, go on, go on,”
he insists. He kisses her again, opening her mouth and sinking into her,
leaving her breathless.

As she moves away, he hears her restless breath and
sees her eyes narrowed.

She’s to be eaten
when she’s as soft as this.

He bites his lip, really wanting to bite her all over.

“So, shall we go?”

She wets her lips and shakes her head.

“You’re cruel, though.” He tickles her
shoulder around the outline of her dress and then down to where the helpful
button, that he had managed to open before, allows him to venture inside. He
touches another while she strokes his neck.

Andrea looks around quickly and doesn’t see anyone. Just
the mountains, surrounding the vast, bright green plain.

Turning back to her, he takes a deep breath and opens
another button. He sees the swelling of her skin, the fabric barely covering it
now, and slides his finger inside as she closes her eyes.

He feels her hard nipple and tickles it between his thumb
and forefinger, watching her for signs of arousal. She opens her mouth slightly,
with a light moan, and he fills it with his tongue.  His hand squeezes her soft, yet firm,
breasts, making him boil over again. “Susanna,” he says, drunk with
desire. “You’re beautiful, my love.”

#sunset #clusone #italy #heartofflesh

#sunset #clusone #italy #heartofflesh

#Clusone #Italy (Location from #heartofflesh ) #landscape #love...

#Clusone #Italy (Location from #heartofflesh ) #landscape #love #skylovers #skyporn #cloudporn #nature #clouds #horizon #beautiful #mountain

#heartofflesh #itunes #apple #ebook

#heartofflesh #itunes #apple #ebook 

My novel is on #iTunes now! Genre: #romance Thank You...

My novel is on #iTunes now!

Genre: #romance

Thank You

#heartofflesh #book #read #reading #reader #page #pages #paper #library #author #bookworm #readinglist #love #boy #boys #girl #girls #woman #apple #cover #photoshop #heart #Ian

#heartofflesh #excerpt from Chapter 5- Blood Bond

After
an hour, the doctor only says that Barbara’s not in a critical condition. The
prognosis is private. She’s in intensive care and will remain there for several
days, at least until she’s stable. If, that is…

And
that “if, that is” is a
dagger in Andrea’s chest.

That
is if she doesn’t die first, he meant. Or, at least, if she doesn’t worsen.

They’re
advised to go home since there is no point in staying any longer. They can call
or come back the next day at about one and then seven in the evening. Those are
the times to talk to the doctor.

Letting
the staff know that they prefer to come in person and are staying in Clusone, they
both give their cell numbers in case of an emergency.

They
leave, heads bowed, and make their way to the cars. Andrea’s uncle tells him
that they had given him the bags taken from the accident and he put them in his
trunk. He wants to stay with him a few days rather than leave him on his own.

Andrea
thanks him and, each in his own car, they drive to the house where he had spent
all his childhood holidays. He hasn’t been back to Clusone for over ten years
and would have never imagined coming back in these circumstances.

It’s
the dead of night and even the mountains are resting. They rise up
majestically, piercing the sky strewn with stars, illuminated like little
lights and intimidated by the three quarter moon, splendid in its silvery glow.

The
house is still surrounded by a hedge that hides the courtyard from prying eyes.
All on one floor, the windows and doors are
locked. His uncle opens the gate and they drive in, one after the other, leaving
their cars parked by the house.

The
walk down the red tiled driveway is accompanied by the sound of cicadas
chirping loudly.

Fortunately,
his uncle knows the security code to get in. Andrea doesn’t remember it, even
if they had told him it many times.

He
reads “Groppi”, his mother’s maiden name, on the front door nameplate
and the memories start coming back.

His
mother and grandmother had both been born in this house. Indeed, all the
Groppis had lived here.

The
smell of the past envelops and almost stuns him. The aroma of the pipe tobacco,
that his father only smokes here, still lingers. Like the vegetables cooked in
the morning and the wood that’s a little musty.

It’s
not cold, yet an icy wind penetrates his bones, making his shoulders tighten suddenly.
He goes straight to the old bedroom that he used to share with his sister.

“Do
you want something to eat or drink?” his uncle asks, putting the bags down
in the hall.

“I’m
not hungry. I’m not thirsty. I don’t want anything,” he replies, head
bowed. He sees the usual burgundy carpet and wooden nightstand with its two
little doors, one without a handle.

His
uncle turns on the light, illuminating the entrance hall.

This
isn’t like a trip into the past. Time never passes here.

Everything
is still here, still in the same place. The corridor opens into a large hall
that the other rooms face onto. Three bedrooms, kitchen, living room and bathroom.

He
looks at his grandparent’s pictures hanging on the walls. Of the children with
a drum and guitar, the red hat of straw, the sieve, and the drawings that he
and Barbara had done when they were little. The sideboard that had been in his
room, but they had moved because his little sister arrived and they needed
space for another crib.

He
feels a knot in his throat and clenches his fists. “I’m going to bed,”
he says, on seeing the photos taken during past Christmases, where everyone is smiling,
including him. They tear him apart mercilessly now.

“I’ll
call you for eleven, okay?”

He
nods and goes into the bedroom, closing the glass door behind him. The two
cribs are still there, with their pink and blue quilts. The stuffed animals and
old toys still sit on the shelves, as well as the children’s fairy tale and
adventure books. Everything is clean and tidy.

It
looks like a house that is inhabited all year round, not just on some weekends
and during the holidays.

He
is the only stranger here. Thrown into a setting that is no longer his, he
takes off his shoes, lifting them with his toes, and
slowly lies down on the bed. He turns onto his side and curls up in a silent
suffering. There is just the ticking of the clock, each second beating out all
the wrong things said and the right things unspoken, now lost forever.

He
tosses and turns all night. His uncle’s sobs, slipping through the cracks in
the closed doors, alternate with moments of silence.

Then
the room is dimly lit by the dawn, the sun filtering in through the gaps.

Maybe
he dozes off, because he wakes up when his uncle calls him.

“Andrea,”
he says, knocking lightly on the glass door.

He
tries to say something, but his mouth is dry. He clears his throat. “Yes,
uncle, I’m coming.”

He
tries to get up, but doesn’t have any energy. His arms are weak and his legs
tremble.

I
must find the strength.

I
must find the strength…