Wicked Wednesday #162: Photo (of my legs)

Eliza’s fingers lingered on her lips. Sitting next to Oscar at the bar, her fingers remained still. She wanted to keep the warmth, wanted to keep the sensation…the sensation of his kiss there. She had forgotten, but now that he had kissed her again, she remembered every kiss they had ever had. This kiss was like their first kiss all over again, it was like meeting him all over again.And he wanted to forget her…

She closed the door of her hotel room behind her when she returned to it. Her eyes lingered on a photograph taken by Fiona, that she brought with her. She wondered if Fiona was lost in the deal? They had been through a lot together, she was her sister because she practically had been for so long. They had even managed to survive Shanghai, and everything it had detailed…

The photograph had been a gift after she was newly engaged to Rafe. It was a detail of a woman’s legs, with a necklace draped over her thighs that said, “oui.”

“Because you said yes to Rafe…” Fiona had said when she presented her with the photograph.

Eliza smiled when she saw that she had a missed call from Fiona, but did she know yet? It was the dead of night…

Pressing herself to the door, her fingers were still on her lips. When she moved them, it felt like Oscar kissed her again. That he had said that he kissed her because he wanted to forget kissing her…

She closed her eyes, but tears did not come. Tears had stopped coming, because she really did believe she had used up their well.

The soft knock on her room door was against her hip. Eliza knew it was Oscar, but she did not want to open the door. What would be on the other side of it but Oscar telling her he loved her, but not enough? It was too much for her to hear that from him again…

She turned and looked out into the hallway, and she saw Oscar’s face through the glass. He looked contrite, and the tears came back.

“Go away,” she mouthed against the door, pressing her forehead to it. 

But she opened the door.

Before she was able to look up at his face, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. This time she remembered how to kiss him, she kissed him thoroughly. Eliza was filled with so much raw emotion: her last trip to Shanghai. Lying on his hotel bed alone, waiting for Oscar and he was with Polly. She did not ask about Polly, it was not her place to. Putting her hands over his, she kissed him because she needed to forget too…

She closed her eyes, and saw Fiona’s photograph behind them. The encircled oui on a chain, shone in her memory like the sun.

Oscar pushed her gently into the room, and closed the door behind him… 
Marie decided to use this photo from my first Sinful Sunday ever, for this week’s prompt. See more leg stories here:

  

photo of my legs in the nypl by Exposing 40

Masturbation Monday No. 44

Nichy sat on the bed, with her hands behind her back. Gavin stood in front of her. She smiled softly, because she loved everything about him. His hands, the tiny slivers of moon that were his nails. His thighs, his feet, his hair, his teeth. She loved everything about him as it was revealed to her. Right now, she loved his eyelashes that she could see fluttering over his eyes. His eyes were the thing about him she loved the most, tied with the timbre of his voice.She lie back on the bed, and closed her eyes. He was right in front of her, and she sunk into the hotel bed thinking about all the times that she had been on her own bed like this: naked curled into fetal position after she had gotten herself beyond wet thinking about being in bed with Gavin. First she would caress herself, not even touching her clit and she would still be that wet. When she finally touched her clit, she would need more. One finger, two fingers, three…pretending all the time that it was Gavin. She came so hard, that she could barely breathe after. 

The bed dipped beside her hip.

“You know, just because we are in a hotel room together does not mean that we have to make love, that we have to…”

Gavin said that quietly, so quietly she almost thought that she imagined it. Almost thought she imagined it, as she looked up at the ceiling that looked like floral cream-colored frosting.

She fished for his hand on the mattress, and caressed his finger when she felt it. Gavin wrapped his hand about hers. Nichy sat up and looked at him, she had been staring at the cream-colored ceiling for so long that Gavin looked cream-colored. They kissed and he tasted like frosting. She thought her imagination was that powerful, but remembered that they had both eaten red velvet cake in the restaurant. The best red velvet cake she had ever had in her entire life. 

Or was everything right now, everything connected to this moment, going to be the best thing that she had ever had?

Gavin tasted like frosting, and she knew she was making the red velvet covers wet. When he caressed her hip and pulled up her dress feeling for her to see if she was still as wet as she had been in the elevator,

she was. More so.

“Still wet,” she said nibbling on his ear. His hand had moved up to her breast as she kissed his neck.

“You taste like red velvet cake.”

“Your dress looks like frosting,” he said breathily. “Take it off because I want to lick you.”

Nichy pulled her dress over her head.

“I want to lick you.”

Gavin started to pull at his belt, but she replaced his hands with hers. She unbuckled his belt, and pulled him out of his suit pants. Touching the tip of him, damp with pre-come.

“You are wet too…” She said reaching up behind her back to unhook her bra.

“You always wear such sexy underwear…” he breathed, his fingers inside the thin damp line of her crotch from where he had been playing with her.

Her bra dropped over his hands looking like decadent lace handcuffs against his wrists. He reached for her breasts, pressing his unshaven cheek to them. Nichy welcomed the roughness. She wanted it rough, needed it to be rough with him.

His teeth were gnawing on her nipple, when his phone rang. She recognized his ringtone. Gavin looked up at her, with a frown and misplaced desire.

“Nichy, I kind of have to take this call.”

Nichy held her breasts when he was not holding them anymore, and nodded.

He took the call in front of her which soothed her a bit, but the wild look in his eyes made her nervous.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can…”

Nichy studied him.

“Nichy, my cousin just went into labor. She lives downtown, and is going to the hospital. She’s a little early and her husband is on a business trip. She is all alone. I have to go, can you come with me?”

“Of course I will.”

“Nichy…”

Nichy smiled at him to let him know he did not have to say anything, and pulled her dress over her head again, looking up at the ceiling that looked like frosting. Then she pulled the dress over her head again, because she had not put on her bra. The bra now looked very much like the undergarments it was, and clearly not handcuffs. Because everything in the world kept Gavin from being with her for any prolonged period of time.

They walked out of the hotel room, and she could still taste the frosting on his lips as the doorman hailed a cab outside of the hotel for them.

More Masturbation Monday here:

  

frosting via duck duck go images

Sinful Sunday, Week 221: Chairs

   
 

More chairs here:

  

This Prompt Got Picked for Fourth Place!!!

I was on the train, and took this picture based on a comment that sub-Bee made on this post. I cautiously took this photo, because it reminded me of the image that she described:
There is something truly hot about being on my knees in front of a man in a suit.

I was not planning to enter this contest, but with that inspiration, and since my friend Oleander was lovely enough to host it–I did!
Congratulations to Julia Von Rist the winner, read her story here, and find the rest of the results here!

For an encore…here is my story–with a new filter on my photo!

Veronica wanted him so bad, sometimes she couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t because he was one of the top executives in her company, she had ached for him before that. When he was an architect just out of grad school she had, and now he was a partner at the firm. She started as a receptionist, and now she was an executive assistant.
His.
Their careers were in very different directions, but they had known each other the entire time. He did not have that air about him that so many of the others at the firm did. He was always accessible and warm to her. Whether he was going to a meeting and wore jeans á la business casual–the way only he knew how–or he was in a three-piece suit, his affect on her was almost fatal.
He had a particular passion for watches, his one excess, his one vanity and she admired it. He had catalogs from all of the auction houses on a shelf in his library. She got them all, either walking to the one that was near them or having them messengered over.
Veronica bid for him over the phone. He never had a limit, he just expected her to win it and she always did. Including one for his former fiancée. It had been hard for her to look at the delicate diamond piece that he had selected for her. Veronica knew he did not ask for it back when they ended their engagement, and that made her crush on him even harder.
If that was possible.
Her fingers moved languorously over the red tab that marked the pocket watch that he had his eye on. She let her finger linger over it, imagining it on his lightly haired wrist. Veronica especially wanted to win this watch for him. He was moody since he had broken up with his fiancée, and it was would cheer him up.
Veronica waited on the phone, while she was looking at his schedule. Being his right-hand also meant that she was responsible for all of the administrative staff, so when a literal fight broke out between two of her admins…she had to run to break it up.
When she came back to her desk, she had underestimated the time it would take for his lot to come up. Damn it! She had missed the lot! His lot!
It was with a heavy tail between her legs, that she knocked on his door. He sat inside facing it.
“Can you close the door, Veronica?”
She nodded, her tight chignon even tighter as she did.
“You were not at your desk, and you missed the lot.”
“How did–”
She wanted to snatch back her words, how dare she question him? Nervously, she tugged at the edge of her silk blouse first, then her pearls.
“How did I know? I just happened to get off of my conference call early, and was going to tell you I could do it for a change. When I buzzed you, you were not at your desk…”
She twisted the pearls, and bit her lip.
“You’ve never disappointed me before V, this is uncharted territory for us. You are always perfect. How are you going to make me feel better…about this?”
The length of his gorgeous tall frame was slouched in his chair.
“So much is going wrong around me V, and now even you…”
“I always want to please you–”
He raised an eyebrow at her. His desolate expression shifted, as he studied her face.
“I usually please you don’t I?” she asked.
He sat up straight, and suddenly in her silk dress that was only sheer on the top and the edge of the skirt, Veronica felt transparent.
“You always please me V, you always have…”
Veronica was unable to breathe, as he stood up and walked toward her. His finger caressed a tiny polka dot in the sheer area of her dress.
“There is only one thing I want more than that watch, and it cannot be bid on. You do not have a price tag do you Veronica?”
“What do you mean?!” She huffed, her breasts rose between them.
“I phrased that clumsily, I meant you are not for sale. But I want you…I’ve always wanted you.”
Veronica saw that iconic scene from Butterfly 8, when Elizabeth Taylor writes “No Sale,” on a mirror with lipstick.
“But what about your fiancée?”
“I wanted you first…”
“But you never…”
“We work together so I never, but now only you can make me feel better…”
He kissed her, and she pulled away from him panting. He caressed her scalp and loosened her chignon, before he steered her back gently against the door. Veronica held his hand, her finger slipping inside the band of the gorgeous watch he wore today. He took her hand and put the watch on her, slipping it up along her arm until it fit.
“That’s all I want you to wear right now…” he said pulling at his tie.
Veronica took his hand, and kissed it.
“You can leave your suit on, and tighten your tie.”
“Why?”
“It’s how I always imagined it when I fantasized about you…”

Read more about this post here!

newly filtered photo by f dot leonora

Wicked Wednesday #161 — Self-Image

He could smell her on the bedsheets. Rafe rubbed his face over the pillow, he had not changed the sheets since the last time he shared a bed with Eliza. He needed her scent to still have something of her.Neither one of them had tried to call the other. He knew she would not try to contact him, and he did not contact her because he knew she was hurt. She needed time, and he would give it to her.

When he started his relationship with her, he liked that she was bohemian. He had been raised very conservative, with all the trappings of an upper-class family. Fiona had managed to escape the expectations, she was the artist. A successful artist, but nonetheless not what their parents had planned for her. Rafe was the practical one, pursued the safe career in finance and did all of the things that his parents wanted him to do. His parents admired Fiona more than she knew, but they did love that he did all the things that they expected of him. 

Eliza was like a diamond in the rough, and had changed for him. She had always changed for him. She became the art director of a major publication instead of being freelance artsy like she was when he met her, and she became polyamorous because it suited him. 

Maybe because he had done everything else the way his parents wanted was why, he at least wanted his relationships to be what he wanted. He was a hedonist, he savored his pleasure with the women that he was involved with. But just because he was not monogamous, did not mean that he did not value the women he was with. He knew that the reason Eliza was upset was because he had gotten involved with Sandrine without telling her. It was wrong, but he and Sandrine had gotten close again. When it seemed like Sandrine had given up on him, it was too much for him to bear. He loved her, even though he was not with her, he loved her and would always love her. He called her and told her what had happened with Eliza, and she soothed him.

“We messed up cheri,” she told him, her French accent heavier from being in France. “We messed up, and we both hurt people we love. I hurt Marcus…but I know we will be okay. You and Eliza? Do you think that she will, that you will be okay?”

Rafe rubbed his unshaven cheek, unable to dwell on whether or not he would get her back. Whether she would come back of her own free will. His self-image was so tied up in being with Eliza, that he did not feel like a whole person now. He could smell her on the sheets, he smelled her everywhere really. She had only taken some of her things, there were reminders of her as he walked to the kitchen to make coffee. He was stabbed tinily with one of her pumps was on the way there. He cursed as the buzzer rang to the apartment. Hoping Eliza had forgotten her keys even though it made no sense, he pressed the buzzer.

Moments later looking at his sister, he was silent. Continued to go about making coffee, now for Fiona as well. The steam that came from the cup, looked like clouds in his coffee. Like an impending storm. 

He gestured to Fiona which cup was hers, yet after he made the coffee he did not touch it. Just looked at the clouds of smoke gathering from it.

“How do you expect to get Eliza back if you look like you lost the battle already?”

Rafe shrugged, and knocked over his cup of coffee. The steaming hot liquid spilled all over his pants, and he did not even flinch. He hurt far worse on the inside.

He did not know how to be without her, Eliza would have told him to not leave the coffee on the edge of the counter like he did. Like he always did. The same way he always told her she could do anything that she did not think she could do. Because she was talented, she was talented, beautiful and smart. But mostly, she loved him the way he was. She never tried to change him. She changed for him, she was the chameleon in their relationship. He was the caveman, the one so set in his ways. He kept hurting her, because he did not know how to change and now she had forced change on him.

Without her was a change.

“Fiona, I really do not need your philosophizing right now. Just because you the one who is in stable relationship, does not mean that I want to hear you tell me what to do.”

“You mean you do not want me to tell you that you fucked up with Eliza as usual,” she said sipping her coffee. “But the good news is that she put up with this much from you, so you have a chance brother. You have a chance to get her back. But you have to put yourself together…for your own self-image you have to look like you think you have a fighting chance. Because some other man or woman will snatch her up. You are lucky I am with Alice, because you know I love Eliza…”

Rafe smelled coffee now instead of Eliza, as he pulled up a stool and stared at the gorgeous female version of himself and saw a reflection in the shiny appliances of his unkempt appearance. He was in a quandary, unsure what his next move was going to be. Spilled coffee mingled with Eliza’s scent, and he realized that he needed to get her back.

More Wicked Wednesday here:

  

coffee photograph with filter by f dot leonora

 

Masturbation Monday No. 43

The light returned to the city in smatterings. Manhattan was lit, but Brooklyn was not. Nichy and Gavin decided that they would split the cost of a hotel room and stay there until the light returned to their borough. There was a gorgeous boutique hotel that was tucked into a random corner of the West Side, that she had seen many times when she was in a cab. She immediately recommended it to Gavin, and he agreed while they were sitting together in the back of a taxi.

“It is almost like a horror movie what we are going through–No Escape from Manhattan!” she laughed.

“Do you want to escape from me?” Gavin asked her.

There was no need for a verbal response, when his hand rested on her thigh. She wrapped her arm about him, and shifted her legs over his lap to deepen their kiss.

She was breathless and flushed from kissing him, and because he insisted on paying for everything. The cab, the hotel which she began to hotly protest while they were in the lobby…but then he kissed her and she stopped.

“What kind of man would I be to make you pay for anything on our first date?”

“Gav–”

He kissed her again. Every time he kissed her the red velvet interior of the hotel lobby left her vision, like red velvets curtains on a stage coming down. She would open her eyes, and wonder what was going to come next.

“Are you hungry?” he asked holding her hand, and gesturing to the jewel-like restaurant that was also encased in red velvet. 

She shook her head.

“Maybe after we get settled in our room?” she said.

Gavin squeezed her hand tight, and nodded.

The night before, everyone slept where they could find a place to sleep in their office. She and Gavin found a place together. Nichy had been draped over him like a blanket, and he was under her like a bed. His hard body was exactly what she needed to lull herself to sleep. She fell asleep easily in his arms, but he slept fitfully. Every time he shifted, he kissed her softly and caressed her face, neck…later drowsily her breasts. Then consciously, very consciously he caressed them. 

Since touching her breasts was like touching her clitoris, the feeling of them being caressed, her nipples being tugged or inadvertently stimulated while he was fondling them made her shift against him. With her eyes closed tight, she squeezed her legs tighter then opened her eyes gasping when she came.

“Did you just come?” he whispered against the soft skin under her ear in the darkness of their corner of the office. He licked her there just beneath her earlobe. When he kissed her, she could taste the remnants of her perfume on his lips and tongue.

Nichy started panting softly now, as they got into the elevator. The hotel was called The Red Velvet, so the decor was everything was red velvet covered. The thickly-painted ceiling resembled cream cheese frosting, in a much more decorous way.

Gavin studied her face, as her head rolled against the plush red velvet interior of the elevator. She saw the look in his eyes, that unmistakable look that let her know he wanted her. She wondered what her face looked like to him. If he could see her naked lust as well. Neither one of them looked away, until they ended up on the top floor because neither of them pressed the button to their floor.

Nichy felt like she was walking into a dream, as they walked out toward the glass doors that led onto the roof. Putting her hands on the decorative cream-colored ledge, Nichy watched New York spread brightly before her. Because it was daytime. She knew that there were parts of the city that were still dark, that was why she was here with Gavin. He was not touching her, but she felt his presence and heat more than she felt the sun.

More Masturbation Monday here:

  

  
red velvet cake via duck duck go images cropped and filtered by f dot leonora

 

 

Wicked Wednesday #160 — Disability

Maybe because she was in a hotel room alone in New York was why…Eliza had been alone in hotels in Shanghai and Paris, and not felt like this. But being alone even in this plush boutique hotel room, reminded her of being alone in the hospital after the car accident. For the most part, she was never really alone after the accident. Most of her nights in the hospital and during her short-term disability leave, Rafe was with her. She had been very lucky to not have been more injured than she was, as it was she had been more injured than Rafe. 

Things had been hard. The first time she saw her bruised face in the mirror, she had cried. She was so badly bruised, and had broken bones that had broken through her skin. Oscar had kissed her bruised hand, and she had fallen in love with him even more at that moment.

Love, she laughed bitterly as warm, salty tears covered her tongue.

She couldn’t sleep. She stood in the middle of the hotel room, in her dress that was mostly unbuttoned. Her breasts were bare, her nipples hard as she alternately flicked them. She was not aroused, she touched them like a lullaby to soothe herself.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she let her fingers slip under the lace of her thigh highs. It was damn late, but she called Marcus all the same. He had led her down this rabbit hole, he should support her as she moved through it.

“Eliza?”

She wondered how accidentally she had really called the wrong number, as she heard Oscar’s lucid voice.

“I am sorry, I meant to…”

“Are you okay?”

Her eyes flooded with gold tears, gold reflecting the gold-colored room that she was in.

“Why do you care about me?”

There was silence.

“Why do you care?” she repeated. “I mean why do you still treat me like we are still together?”

She closed her eyes. This was the hotel where she had met Oscar when she was unsettled about her engagement to Rafe. Now that she had broken things off with Rafe, talking to Oscar felt like dejá-vü. 

Like he should be there with her, but she knew that they were over.

“Where are you?”

“Oscar, I know you are with Polly now. I don’t want to–”

“Where are you?”

“Where we first met…”

“At the bar?”

“No, I am upstairs in one of the rooms.”

“I will meet you at the bar. Go wait for me.”
Eliza obediently sat at the bar waiting for him. She did not look as well put together as she had the first time he met her. He had kissed her bruised hands and bruised face in the hospitalq, she did not feel she had to knock herself out for him. Her hair was down about her shoulders, and all she had done was button up her dress. She had not put her bra back on, so her breasts jiggled as she tugged on the lace of her thigh highs to pull them up. Eliza felt them run, as she looked up and saw Oscar.

He sat on the stool beside her.

“You did not have to come…” she started. 

“You act like I just stopped loving you, you act like nothing ever happened between us. I care about you Eliza. I will always care about you, and I know something is very wrong…”

“I left Rafe, I broke off the engagement. I am staying here.”

Oscar stared at her like she was speaking another language while she talked.

She stopped talking.

“And you are sure that you do not want to marry him?”

“He has made it very hard for me to stay, I can’t just forgive him this time. I changed for him you know? I lost you because of him, if I had met you and I was not with him…”

Oscar put his hand on her thigh, and she put her hand over his.

“This is like some crazy kind of dejá-vü. But we are not going to end up in bed, because you are with Polly…”

Eliza looked down at his hand on her thigh, she watched it slip just under the lace band of her thigh high because she had not buttoned her dress all the way. When she looked up at him, his hand was higher up on her thigh. 

Their kiss was so sudden, her teeth hit his because she was surprised. She moaned low in pleasure, but the moan had the sound of pain. He pulled away from her mouth, and looked at her.

“I just needed once more to do that, just once more. So I can forget…”

“But now I remember…” Eliza said inside another kiss, her eyes filled with amber tears mirroring the amber bottles at the bar.

This was my soundtrack while writing this post: http://youtu.be/zMBTvuUlm98

More Wicked Wednesday here:

  
 

bar photograph with amelie filter by f dot leonora

Discussing The Joy of Anthologies with Kate Hill Today!!!

Last week, Del Carmen featured an excerpt from Tie Me Up on Kate Hill’s blog. Today, I am Kate’s guest! I am talking about the joy of anthologies–go over and see my post! 

Masturbation Monday No. 42 

Her computer went off with a whoosh, Nichy was submerged in a pool of black. She remained calm, but she heard the panic about her and it unnerved her. The entire office was dark, the entire floor and the phones were not working. Outside was dark, It felt like something from The Twilight Zone. It always amazed Nichy how someone always managed to have a battery run radio for times like these, when no one really used them anymore.

The blackout was exclusive to New York City, and the cause had not been determined yet. The electric company was frantically working to restore it, but it was unclear when that would be. The city was at a standstill, the reporter stated with a bit of glee like if it was not real life but a movie.

It was past the end of the day, so her colleagues who lived in the city made the dark trek home in numbers. The rest of them who lived in the outside boroughs, were resigned to staying in the office. There was no alternative. The well-stocked company refrigerator was raided, because people felt the food would spoil anyway.

Nichy looked at her phone which had a very low signal. She was not hungry, as she wandered into her boss’s office. Outside was black, there were no streetlights through the large windows that she walked over to. Her face pressed to the glass, Nichy gasped.

“Are you scared?”

She recognized Gavin’s voice.

“Starting to get scared that I am not supposed to go on a date with you! Now natural disaster is preventing us!”

Gavin pulled her close, and kissed her. The sound of semi-panic in the hallway was drowned, as she chewed on his lip when he pulled away.

“I thought you were scared of me…”

He pressed her into the dark corner of her boss’s office. Her boss was out for the day which was why she had slipped in there. Gavin pressed her against the wall, and kissed her again. It was pitch black when she closed her eyes as she kissed him, as if she was blindfolded and all she could do was absorb him.

The blackout reminded her of 9/11, a random blackout awhile after that and Hurricane Sandy. She was not scared, but she remembered the anxiety and emptiness of those times. Being with Gavin made her feel alive in a way she had not then. 

She could not keep her legs together because of the quivering of her labia when she looked at him, and when he kissed her…

Gavin closed the door behind her, and gasped for air from kissing when he pressed her to it.

“Are you still scared of me?” Nichy opened her eyes at his words, it was dark except for the brightness of his. She closed her eyes when they kissed again, and his hand moved from her jaw, slowly down her side until he reached the edge of her dress. Her hips were thrust toward him as a silent invitation, and her leg curled on the outside of his. His hand firmly gripped the very top of her thigh, before his finger slipped inside the damp crotch of her thong. It was only a bit of lace and cotton, but it was thoroughly damp. His finger sought every bit of her labia, as if it were a maze that her had to cover every part of. She undulated with every contour of his touch, her eyes flew open when he caressed her clitoris. Absently at first, and then with purpose. She bit her lip in an ugly way as his finger lingered in a particularly sensitive part of her, she sucked the light blood from her wound as she came. “Are you? Still scared that is?”

Nichy panted, as she shook her head.

“Are you hungry?” he changed his line of questioning.

Nichy laughed.

“For what?”

“I am hungry to be properly alone with you, but I meant for food. You know there will be nothing left if we don’t go soon…”

Nichy turned to grasp the doorknob.

“I am going to spend the night with you here princess, and I promise you…one day very properly…”

ahe kissed her neck.

She turned around to face him, he was haloed by the black city and stood as her bright light.
More Masturbation Monday here:

  

blacked out times square via duck duck go images

Book Review: Cathedral of Furs by Lana Fox

***From deepest taboos to ardent longing that ignites the page and makes the heart thump harder, no one writes passion like Anaïs Nin. That’s why erotic author and publisher Lana Fox created Cathedral of Furs—five ardent linked stories inspired by Anaïs Nin’s diaries and creations.
 

Much like Nin herself, the protagonist Arielle refuses to let her heart be bound by rules that make no sense for her. Thus she embarks on a journey of honeyed liaisons, exotic revelations, and courageous encounters that society would have her shun in spite of their heart-driven passion.


It is not surprising that Lana Fox’s own blurb for Cathedral of Furs her new release, would be sufficient enough to describe the honeyed beauty of her work. It is no secret that I am a HUGE fan of Lana’s ever since I read “The Silver Belt,” which was featured in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s anthology, Passion. I interviewed her on this blog, and she described how Anaïs Nin saved her. “The Silver Belt” was filled with Ninesque style, but Cathedral of Furs is a top-notch thank you letter to Nin. 

Lana is an amazing writer, her own style is lush and makes me close my eyes as I pause and savor her prose. Her love of words is obvious, and she manipulates them to convey warmth, longing or fulfilling desire in the unforgettable way only she can. Writing in Nin’s style is not that different from her own, but there is an exploration of themes and emotions that she reincarnates from the pages of Nin’s journal that floored me. So much beauty, I could hardly bear it.

Although the stories describe different relationships in Nin’s life, they flow in a breathtaking way that unites them. I took in passages that made me stop and wonder, was I reading Nin or Lana? And yet, Lana manages to make it her very own, with a intuitive contemporary angle. Lana is like a legit medium, filling us with the deepest secrets of desire. 


“When asked for my favorite erotic books,” says the author Lana Fox, “my answer is always Anaïs Nin’s unexpurgated diaries—the most erotically charged, emotionally intense writing I’ve ever read.”
 

Through Cathedral of Furs, Fox hopes to either share her own passion with those who already adore Nin, or encourage those new to Nin to read and be moved by her breathtaking work.***


I can say Cathedral of Furs is now a favorite erotic novel of mine, because the degree and daring of emotion catapulted me to where I need to be as a reader–completely immersed in the world of the novel I am engaging. I think Cathedral of Furs should be mandatory reading for those who study Nin. Lana Fox is without a doubt her literary descendant. 

Enter the Cathedral of Furs!

http://godeeperpress.com/projects/cathedral-of-furs-by-lana-fox/

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/551392

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1122154629?ean=2940152198874

http://www.amazon.com/Cathedral-Furs-Erotica-Inspired-NINspired-ebook/dp/B00ZYKNGYS