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Saturday, 31 May 2014

ATTENTION!

GUYS AND GALS!!!

The GUILTY PLEASURES BOOK-BLAST 

is at 21:00h GMT!

BE THERE!

JOIN US TODAY/TONIGHT FOR THE GUILTY PLEASURES BOOK-BLAST!

OK! For all of you confused about what a Book-Blast is, it's basically a virtual Book-Launch party where you bring your own booze...

You get to hang around Ashley's Page, gossip, bad-mouth the Author behind her (my) back...
"Oh my god! Did you see how FAT she got!"
"Yes...but in compensation her PLOTS are REALLY thin..."

So you dish some dirt, drink too much, flirt a bit, take part in the quizzes and maybe take home a signed copy of Guilty Pleasures or one of my e-books!

Come along, don't be shy.

And the best part is, you can sit in your socks and bathrobe; drink gin and tell everyone you are looking MARVELLOUS!!!

SEE YOU LATER!



Friday, 30 May 2014

When someone asks hesitantly: "Can I be honest...?"

It amuses me no end that people who are afraid of hurting you with "honesty" have never a qualm about crushing you with a lie...

Thursday, 29 May 2014

Tomorrow night, get ready for the ULTIMATE BITE!

EULOGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD

Some loves we bury
Six feet under; buried deep,
Hail storms and thunder.

Some loves we bury
In shallow graves,
We walk away;
Though the dead
Plead and mumble,
Tongues pressing
Wet through
The dusty gravel.

We walk, we run;
We flee, we travel
Always away; because
Some loves we bury
In shallow graves,
And though the corpse
Is cold and still,
We dare not turn
Least we see
Through the dirt 
Carelessly strewn
The delicate tumble
Of fingers around
A pleading palm,
Still offering love,
Begging tenderness
As an alm.

Manuela Cardiga

Wednesday, 28 May 2014

WUTHERING HEIGHTS

I have loved
The wrong men
In the wrong way
Too often
To listen
To the stuttering
Of the tell-tale heart.

So I tell you straight,
What you wish to claim
I buried deep
With a sharp stake
Through the aorta,
Coming right out-
Bloody and gory-
On the other side.

I stuffed it with garlic
Anointed it with Holy-Oils
Sanctified it
By  burial
On Holy Ground.

Then like Heathcliff
Overcame with doubt;
I opened the casket,
Dragged the corpse out.
French-kissed
Its maggot–lips,
Spat the spite out.

So don’t come
To me now with
That winning smile
Requesting love
Without doubt.

Don’t you see my face?
My eyes washed
Wide-opened
By my last mistake?
I buried that love,
Along with my blindness,
In one mass-grave.

Manuela Cardiga

Monday, 26 May 2014

FIVE DAYS TO GO TO THE MEGA EVENT!

Join us on the 31st of MAY and WIN 
a signed print-copy of 
GUILTY PLEASURES
The Food and Fornication Fables,
e-books and so much MORE!

Friday, 23 May 2014

ANOTHER 5 STAR REVIEW ON AMAZON!!!

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.

Wednesday, 21 May 2014

FIVE STAR REVIEW ON AMAZON TODAY FOR GUILTY PLEASURES!!!

Colour me guilty, May 21, 2014
By Morticia Grey (Naracoorte, Australia)
Verified Purchase

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.

Tuesday, 20 May 2014

DING DONG  SAVED BY THE GONG

"Ding-dong the witch is dead..."
Now that song
Always confused
Me a bit:
Which ding
Or witch dong?

Did the witch
Ding the dong?
Or did the dong
Ding the witch?

Is it me or is it all
Vaguely obscene?
Like dignified Asians
Unfortunately named
Long Duck Wong?

Was the witch
Dinging
the Dong?
Or being Donged
On the aforementioned
Ding?

Let me however clarify
One little thing:
I have nothing against
Dings, or dongs
Prongs or wongs;
Be they shorts or longs.
Nothing! I swear!
I'm an equal
Opportunity dinger...

I fact ,one
Of the nicest things
A man ever said to me
Was: "I miss your ding"

(It's actually not
As exciting
As it may seem;
Or as thrilling
As it may sound
But it was sweet
And quite profound.)

What can I say?
My life is actually
Quite limited;
Rather like
A Munchkin
Midget.

Which brings us
Back to the story
Of the poor, poor witch
Lying dead in a ditch
Crushed like a louse
Under a huge house?

It just reeks
Of overcompensation
On the part of
Those little
Munchkin pricks
Mulling over their teeny
Weeny little prongs...
And singing
"Ding-dong"
In a joyful throng...

Now that we are on the subject
Of uncomfortable truths?
I have serious doubts
About Dorothy too.

Come on!
Three guys in the woods?
And TOTO???
All you girls and boys
Into the whips
And other sick toys
Know that Ruby Slippers
Really means...
NO UNDERPANTS!

That's right!
Little Miss Dorothy
Wasn't quite
Miss Purity!

She was probably
With the Tin-Man
Denting the ding
And having a fling
With the Scare-Crow
And how about the Lion?
That wasn't Aslan out there!

But back to our
Original analysis...
If the poor witch
Was dinged to death
By the dong...

OH DEAR GOD!!!
The witch was dinged
To inglorious death
By the dong
Of Long Duck Wong!

So all along
They were detailing
In some obscure code
The last incursion
Of the American-Asian war?
And how they
Evened the score?

And here I was
Maliciously thinking
That they were hinting
That that Bitch
Of a Witch was just
Another cheap whore!


Manuela Cardiga

Friday, 16 May 2014

SHIT I SPOUT ONCE IN A WHILE

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.
We are the ambition of the Light.


Manuela Cardiga

Thursday, 15 May 2014

A deliciously raunchy Historical Romantic Comedy!

"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. 




Monday, 12 May 2014

LOVE AND LIGHT

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.

MC

Sunday, 11 May 2014

Find out what all the fuss is about!

READ the Erotic sensation that spent two weeks in the top 100 rank at Amazon for Erotica/BDSM

FREE





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..."

Can a Sultan's lust be refused?
 

Saturday, 10 May 2014

HEY! #1 on Romance at B&N Nook Book with "Tango with a Rose"!

Romance Nook Books

1.Tango with a Rose ( Romance ) by Manuela Cardiga. (THIS IS ME!!!!)

2.Loving From Afar ( Romance ) by Mona Ingram.

3.Marriage by Contract Part 1 ( Romance ) by Sandra Steffen.

4. The Jumbie House ( Romance ) by Pamela Fagan Hutchins.

5. The Last Lord Of The Moors ( Romance ) by Isabella Brooke.

6. Second Chances ( Romance ) by Wendy Thomas.

7. That Damn Duke ( Romance ) by Alexandria Grant.

8. My Boyfriend is a Monster ( Romance ) by J.H. Coates.

9. The Dancer, The Gentleman And The Godson (Part 1) ( Romance ) by Catherine James

10.Finally ( Romance ) by Matthew Burgos.






"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..."

As a THANK YOU for my fans, I am giving away a coupon for one of my books!

As a THANK YOU for my fans, I am giving away a coupon for my book
"Lizzie Browning Rocks in her Box - New Sonnets from the Portuguese"!



One woman follows the twisted winding path of romantic love that leads from Lizzie Browning to Lizzie Borden, and she does it all with an Audrey Hepburn smile…

To claim your book, log on to 
and "buy" the book, 
enter the Code: RB82M prior to completing your checkout. 
Enjoy!

ONLY UNTIL TOMORROW|, SO HURRY!


Friday, 9 May 2014

Wednesday, 7 May 2014

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

Melancholic Medusa


HARPIES HAIRDRESSING IN HADES

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
Were unwilling
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
Pale perfection
Of her dreaming face;
Or perhaps the fear
They'd find themselves truly
In that silvery reflection;
Lost in the power of
The spirit-snake.

So I let her go.
I watched her
Sway away in her heels
And her red silk dress;
And screamed to
The waiting Manticore:
"NEXT!"

Manuela Cardiga


Monday, 5 May 2014

Sunday, 4 May 2014

Not boasting or anything, but...GREAT REVIEWS!!!

Check out what readers are saying about Guilty Pleasures on GOODREADS!

This is it! I did it! I'm a FAMOUS AUTHOR AT LAST!

Well hello!
This is it...
An Author Page!

That and about a million rejection slips is how you know you have ARRIVED!

Also my access to potential victims is wildly increased!

YAY!
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!



ManuelaCardiga

WARNING
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...



Thursday, 1 May 2014

Brevemente em Português: DETETIVE DO DESEJO!

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!”"

DETETIVE DO DESEJO

Manuela Cardiga e Desireé Cronson