What a perfect surprise!, May 23, 2014 By FSMeurinne "FSMeurinne" (USA) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Guilty Pleasures (The Food andFornication Fables) (Kindle Edition)
What an amazing story, I didn't know what to expect but believe me when I say it wasn't what I thought it would be at all. It truly surprised me.
I love how Lance went from no sex, no commitment, no nothing to well, Millie, I love her character she is just a regular girl that loves food, btw I hope to get some of those recipes they where just mouthwatering. The rest of the characters are also well built, the story flows perfectly and I just couldn't stop reading, each chapters showed a sexual secret from Lance and ended with Millie's diary, I love this parts.
It is a great story, hot, romantic, funny, well it has it all. I would definitely recommend it for anyone. I will also be looking forward for next installments of the series.
Colour me guilty, May 21, 2014
By Morticia Grey (Naracoorte, Australia)
This review is from: Guilty Pleasures (The Food andFornication Fables) (Kindle Edition)
I really wanted to write a witty review worthy of this fantastic book but I realise I am a reader not a writer for a reason. I 'discovered' this author after reading a very short story by her and I was intrigued enough to search for more of her work. I love how she has written this book from the delicious descriptions of the food ( I could nearly smell and taste it) to the lovely little sensual tidbits that lead into each chapter, I felt I knew intimately all the characters by the end of the book and I was in love with them all. Serge was like a Heston Blumental meets Tyrion Lannister and I adored him and his relationship with Millie. As for Will/Lance I didnt know how I would feel about him, at the beginning of the book he was less than endearing but as the story progressed he stole my heart along with Millies. I enjoyed just going along on this sometimes wierd and wacky ride, I was heartbroken when they were, joyous when they were and I swear there was a time when I felt a little tipsy, thats how easy it was to get pulled into this love story. I cannot wait to read more from this talented author.
I want to tell you a story…
(I hear you! Those cries of delight only SOUND like despair; you all shut up now and ready your ears!)
Once there was only void.
Here let me pause, because you see, every word is ripe with its own meaning and only means what it means in opposition to its antithesis, see? And in the context of this story that would not apply. “Void” for example, or “Empty”; these words hold in themselves the promise and definition of fullness, completion, satiation, both before and after. Here there was no before, and no promise of an after. There was only Only.
So let me start again:
Once in a no-place of no-sound and no-time something Became.
It was and it felt, and stirred and probed at the elastic limits of itself and discovered that it Was. There was an Itself, and nothing else.
It was Only.
Its Onlyness grew and became More, and still it was Only. So it pushed at the confines of its Will - the only cohesive thing there was – it pushed and pulled. It was agony: it was birthing and being born, yet the pain was welcome. A sensation other then the desperate sameness, the spinning bewilderment of being Only.
So it pushed and the something gave- the Will , the thing-that-glues - shattered, and out from what suddenly became not All but a Core, spilled and spattered shards of matter.
Out, out- the flickering, flashing fragments of flame flew; spun away from the Only; thrust out into the no-void and in a heartbeat (though there were no hearts to beat and no concepts of measurement, or even time outside the self-awareness that was the Only) the sparks screaming in incandescent joy and pain sped away.
And at the Core the Only still spun, twisting and turning upon itself, coiled around the embryonic surge/urge of being.
Away the Light fled and sped: faster than all there was and would be, until it’s careening slowed…slowed; and awoke to the same slow awareness of Itself. Each scintillating dart of the original Heart awoke and found itself Only. Spinning, spinning in the dark confines of itself; and so it cried out strove and strives to unite with itself, to return to the Core.
Each particle seeks at every moment to draw in upon itself every other, to become More; to reunite with the Core. This is what fuels the perpetual motion of all. This is the urge at the core of every soul.
We long for the Only, it calls to us, this embryonic God we are part of, this urge/surge to Love.
It call itself The Only, and we, we are the Lonely; the longing to be more than we are. To be a part and not apart. The desirous, avid fragmented cells of the ever replicating Body of a self awareness just beginning to awaken.
"Desire's Detective" has a new cover and seems to be gathering a new readership, BUT Desireé Cronson and I would like to ask for your help!
Anyone who CAN, please buy a copy of our book today or TODAY?
How about it?
Help us get onto the top ranks for Historical Romance!
Come on Guys!!
Give us a hand!
You will LOVE the story...
In glamorous 18th Century Versailles someone is murdering the Court Jesters. Courtesan turned Detective Noelle de Jouissance is ordered by Louis XV to investigates the hidious crimes, and finds herself embroiled in the sex-mad Royal Family’s erotic secrets; her virginal sidekick - Desiree - is being pursued by the King's lecherous brother; the King is out to seduce the Queen and her Mistress, and the only clue to the killer's identity is a tattoo on his scrotum. Oh...And d'Artagnan? He's is gay...
Desireé Cronson and Manuela Cardiga's tongue-in-cheek take on the sexy shenanigans of Louis XV's sinful court.
I have been questioning the basic premise of religion and the search for God, and the belief in divine love.
We reach for it - that is certain - we ache to connect to some ultimate source of Universal Love. The very fact that we long for that establishes it (for me) as a reality beyond a shadow of a doubt. The other impulses that drive us as ardently - namely reproduction and hunger - are essential to the survival of the individual organism, and therefore the continuation of the species.
So why the drive to unite with the intangible universal light? What basic necessity is served? How does that improve the species' ability to survive? It doesn't, really, yet it is so universal. It is at the very center of every human culture.
And then I realised WHY. It just feels like the truest thing there is, and when I see through the frail veil of human faces a glimpse of that same divine light, I understand why we all fight to love.
READ the Erotic sensation that spent two weeks in the top 100 rank at Amazon for Erotica/BDSM
He sees her, through the stone-lace trellis, bathing her arms in the fountain and the water runs down, wetting her tunic; the thin muslin clings to her breasts. He calls his eunuch: “Bring me the woman with the white arms,” and the eunuch says... “But Master that one is not for you..."
"Would you like to dance with me? Now - or some other night. I’m sly-stepping up to invite you: come do a phantom Tango with me. I stand here in the dim light: tall heels, black dress - a froth of chiffon, so light you can glimpse the shadow between my thighs; and the intricate lace cuffs of my black stockings flirt with your sight. Come join me: step towards me, into the light..."
She sat in the chair,
And tapped impatient nails:
"Off with their heads!"
I ran my fingers in a slow caress
Over each long sinuous tress.
"Cut it off?" I exclaimed,
"All of it!" she cried, "Off!"
I entwined my fingers
With the languorous curls:
"It will grow back, you know..."
My reluctance must have shown
For she raised her eyes from
Her own reflection to mine-
Long dark lustrous eyes-
And a slow perfect tear
Ran down her cheek
And turned to stone.
"I'm just so very tired
Of being alone."
"Yes," I whispered,
"Sister, I know..."
And I lifted the razor.
It was a labour of love,
Let me tell you,
For the bloody vipers
To be beheaded,
And soon I was knee-deep
In blood and venom;
But in the end I had to agree
She looked quite sweet
With the snakes trimmed.
She jumped up and beamed:
"Oh thank you, dear sister,
I feel so much lighter!"
I had no desire to blight her
Patent joy, but I knew the truth
She chose to avoid.
It was not the snakes
That made men quake;
It was the tranquil
Of her dreaming face;
Or perhaps the fear
They'd find themselves truly
In that silvery reflection;
Lost in the power of
So I let her go.
I watched her
Sway away in her heels
And her red silk dress;
And screamed to
The waiting Manticore:
That and about a million rejection slips is how you know you have ARRIVED!
Also my access to potential victims is wildly increased!
So lets have fun! Apparently the point is to promote my book?
So this is how I intend to get you all hooked:
Everyday I will post something new.
It may be a scrap of a story a weird poem, a drawing or a recipe that is so deliciously, sinfully strange you will HAVE to try it out!
And today, since it's the first day, I'll do all three!
There will be continuous references to GUILTY PLEASURES and a freaky subliminal posting that will hum around your brain like that song by Katrina and the Waves: BUY MY BOOK/ BUY MY BOOK/ BUY MY BOOK/ BUY MY BOOK/ BUY MY BOOK/ BUY MY BOOK...
Desireé sentou obedientemente na beira de uma chaise-longue, entrelaçando as mãos modestamente no colo, para evitar estar sempre a ajeitar a sumptuosa máscara de penas de garça que lhe fazia cocegas nas bochechas e no nariz.
"Posso ...?" Assustada, Desireé virou-se e viu um jovem com um ar cansado e de aparência elegante, trajando um casaco de damasco roxo magnífico e uma peruca branca empoada. Uma simples máscara de cetim negro acentuava os traços finos do rosto moreno.
Desireé afastou-se para a ponta do sofá, deixando-lhe o máximo de espaço possível. Ele sentou-se com um suspiro.
"Estou tão cansado: fornicação pela manhã, cópula desenfreada de tarde. Realmente, eu tenho que encontrar algum tempo para dormir." Ele levou a mão á cabeça e tirou a peruca que deixou cair sobre as almofadas entre eles, revelando por baixo uma massa de caracóis escuros despenteados que lhe davam um ar de menino rebelde. "E agora estes Bailes de Máscaras todas as noites! Eu tenho que atender Mm. d 'O em meia hora, em seguida, a nova Condessa Russa às 12h30, e eu prometi a Mou Sieur, o Conde de Villiers que iria acompanhá-lo a Paris para um pouco de estupro desinibido ..."
Desireé riu: ele era tão divertido! O rapaz olhou-a surpreendido."A menina acha isso engraçado? Eu tenho que trabalhar muito - e no duro - para manter a minha reputação, sabe. Às vezes desejo que tivesse sido menos zeloso em a conquistar, mas quando se é jovem pensa-se que ser o maior galinha da Court é quase tão prestigioso como ser o Herdeiro do Trono..."
"Oh, como eu o intendo! A Irmã Stella sempre disse que eu era fanática por galináceos! Eu amo Coc-au-Vin ! E capão assado, Frango Fricassé, canja de galinha…"
“Fricassé?" O jovem olhou fixamente para Desireé através das aberturas estreitas da sua máscara. O seu olhar atento notou a delicada pele acetinada, a boca botão-de-rosa, os finos cabelo de seda prateada a escapar do penteado sóbrio; pousou sobre o pescoço longo, e deslizando sobre a margem do modesto decote, fixou-se nos pequenos seios jovens e firmes. "Quem é a menina?"
Desireé sorriu e estendeu-lhe uma mão esbelta: "Desireé de Jouissance, ao seu serviço! Eu sou a prima de Noelle. "
O jovem ficou ainda mais surpreendido."Noelle de Jouissance? A Noelle? Eu conheço Noelle muito bem, muito bem mesmo."
"Oh, como é adorável!" Desireé sorriu alegremente: "Então, nós já somos amigos." Ela apertou sua mão com firmeza. "Acabo de chegar e estava com tanto medo... Mas são todos tão simpáticos!"
“Sim... Somos todos muito amigáveis… De onde exatamente chegou a menina?"
"De St Cyr. Do convento? Ia tomar o véu nesta Primavera, mas o Ministro do Rei ordenou-me a colocar-me sob a tutela da minha prima para esta temporada." Desireé inclinou-se para frente, os seus olhos escuros brilhando intensamente, “A minha vocação, sabe, é a Cura. Das Almas. Eu sinto isso. É um chamamento."
O jovem parecia absolutamente fascinado. "Curar almas? Há muitas almas feridas por aqui. A minha, por exemplo... Eu tenho uma dor... A menina cura pela imposição das mãos? "
"Não. Através da oração. Eu acredito no poder da oração. "
"Oh, ideia da menina de joelhos para orar é deliciosa..." O jovem lambeu os lábios finos daquela maneira perturbadora.
"Monsieur", Noelle interrompeu, esboçando uma vénia graciosa, "Peço que perdoe a minha prima, ela não tencionava desrespeita-lo. É recém-chegada na Corte! "
O jovem ergueu-se lentamente e acenou com uma mão lânguida, "Não se preocupe, minha querida Noelle, não estou nada ofendido. Na verdade a caridosa menina estava prestes a ajoelhar-se para rezar pela minha alma. Retire-se, pode voltar mais tarde …"
"Senhor, eu imploro-vos… "Noelle inclinou-se para frente e sussurrou fervorosamente ao ouvido do jovem. Ele olhou para Desireé espantado.
"Quantos anos têm, minha menina?" perguntou ele.
"Vinte, Senhor." O rapaz fitou-a, boquiaberto, incrédulo. "Vinte?" Noelle, mais uma vez sussurrou-lhe ao ouvido. "Oh muito bem, mas vai ter de me compensar, Noelle de Jouissance. E bem! "
Noelle afundou-se noutra vénia e agarrando na mão de Desireé arrastou-a da sala apressadamente. "Eu disse-lhe para não falar com ninguém e encontro-a á conversa com o sedutor mais debochado e mais perigoso da Europa!"
"Ele parecia muito agradável... E devoto." Protestou Desireé.
"Devoto? Aquele Senhor devoto é Jean, Duque de Orleãs, irmão do Rei! A menina Desireé vai sentar-se na biblioteca e de lá não sai!”"