Sunday, March 29, 2015

It Burns! It Buuurns!

I'm having trouble concentrating today, so I'm going to ask you this burning question as a means of procrastination...

Here's the set-up: I wrote a book for a vampire box set that's now off the market. The book's called Earth Blood is Easy and it's a quirky sci-fi New Adult heteromance about an alien vampire who's shocked when she discovers you can't just order up blood by the glass here on earth.  You have to like... suck it... out of people!

No sex. It's fun and funny (I guess it's a romantic comedy?), but it really doesn't fit with my... ummm... repertoire? What's the word I'm looking for?  Well, you know what I mean. I write erotica and queer fiction. This book isn't erotic and it isn't queer. It doesn't scream Giselle.

So my question is, what should I do with it?  It's previously published, but only in the box set. It was published as Earth Blood is Easy by Giselle Renarde, so whatever I do with it I'm not, like, disowning it or anything.  That said, I feel like if I pub it that way (either self-pub or with an indie publisher), I'm acknowledging that it's mine, I wrote it, all that.

But from a marketing perspective... see, here's what I don't want to happen: a teen picks up Earth Blood is Easy, likes it, says to self, "I want to read more by this Giselle character" and then BAM is hit with a wall of smut. Earth Blood is Easy is TOTALLY appropriate for teens. There is no explicit content, and I think it would appeal to NA readers of all ages. It's just got that tone.

Should I publish it under a pen name?  That's what I'm thinking I should do.  Then it's at arm's length and there won't be any underage readers seeking out more of my work because they love this book so much they just can't get enough of me. Because that's super-likely to happen. The book's just that good.

Sorry, that was my Canadian self-effacing-ness speaking. Earth Blood is Easy really is a cute little book. In fact, of all the books I've written (and she's read), it's my girlfriend's favourite. And she's a sci-fi geek, so that says I didn't miss the mark.

What do you think? Publish it under a pen name, even if I don't intent to keep it up or write anything else for that author brand?  Or is that a bad idea?  Any other authors have experience with this? Any readers want to chime in?

Any good pen names to suggest...?

Thanks! Love you!

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Give Me the Music

This one's for @amhartnett.  We've been tweeting back and forth about Rufus Wainwright a lot lately, and when I was searching for another post to show her, I came across THIS one.  I wrote it for Oh Get A Grip, where I blog every other Thursday, but if you're a die-hard Donuts and Desires reader and you will read NO OTHER BLOG but this one, you probably haven't seen it.

So here it is:

Give Me the Music

Have you noticed how pervasive "rockstar romance" erotic novels have become lately?  I'll admit, my finger's not exactly on the pulse of modern romance trends (much as it ought to be, since I operate at least somewhat in that genre), so if I've noticed it, it must be a thing.  Books, stories, 30-novel box sets, all about girls and guys lusting after rockstars.

And this is probably a brilliant trend to hop onboard--because if there's one kind of hero that never gets old, it's a rockstar hero.

I'm going to get way too personal here, because I know how much you love it when I tell you all my sexrets. (that was supposed to be "secrets" but I can't bring myself to erase a Freudian typo)

Right.  So, you've probably heard me mention that, at this stage of my life, my primary attraction is to women.  If you want to know something quirky and odd about me, here's a random fact: the only guys I've found myself attracted to in the past few years (aside from Professor Snape, but he's fictional anyway) are musicians.

Super-SUPER-gay musicians.

Rufus Wainwright.  OMG.  My heart is beating faster just looking at that name.

This is nothing new, come to think of it.  When I was a preteen, I recorded my father's Elton John's Greatest Hits record onto a cassette tape and played it every night as I fell asleep, fantasizing about dancing endless tangos with him.  Someone was wearing a flashy red gown, and I don't think it was me.

Earlier this year (or maybe it was last year), Ryan Field posted a call for submissions.  He was putting together an anthology called The Women Who Love to Love Gay Romance.  It happens that I don't read gay romance (or any romance, for that matter), but his concept of having female authors insert themselves into gay sex scenes hooked me, totally.  I had to write something for him.  And I did.

And it was about a gay musician. Obviously.

My story featured a fictionalized version of a Canadian indie artist called Owen Pallett. You may remember him from when he performed as Final Fantasy. Or maybe you don't know him at all.  Here he is:

I wrote a story called "Baby Got Bach" for Ryan Field's anthology--a what-if scenario based on... oh boy, this is embarrassing... 

See, last year Owen Pallett's first violin concerto was premiered with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra.  He didn't perform the piece himself, but he was there.  He hosted the afterparty.  Yeah, so after the show I found myself in the same room as him.

He was standing right there.  Right-the-fuck there. And do you think I could work up the courage to say, "Hey, I love your music."


I stood in the corner and stared at him like a huge creepy perv.  And then I left.

(I could tell you a strikingly similar story about not talking to Peter Oundjian at the Toronto Reference Library, but we'll save that for another day, methinks...)

When I got down to writing "Baby Got Bach," I kind of hit a wall of writer's block. I just couldn't envision myself engaging in any kind of activity with this Owen Pallette-esque character of mine.  If I got my hands on one of the gay musicians I'm constantly perving over, what would I even do with him?

Here's the big question: do I want Rufus Wainwright's penis in my vagina?

Umm... actually, no.  I don't want that at all.  And yes, I realize there are many other ways to have sex, but when it comes right down to it, I don't want to do any of those things with these people.  I could perv over Rufus Wainwright concert clips on YouTube ALL. NIGHT. LONG. but I don't want to fuck him.  I'm almost disappointed in myself, admitting that, but I just can't picture it.

Maybe it's not the musicians.  Maybe I want to fuck the music.

The music gives me this giddy, blissful feeling that's... well, a lot like love.  Like a frenzy of misdirected lust and joy and cosmic orgasm.  It's hard to explain, because it feels like infatuation.  There's a longing and a pull, a desire, and it's strong.  It's damn strong.  I'm not even sure what you'd call it.

Romance readers can keep their rockstar heroes... as long as they give me the music.

Edit: I should have mentioned Owen Pallett's Heartland is one of my favourite albums of all time. I highly HIGHLY recommend it. The song in the clip above (Lewis Takes Off His Shirt) appears on this album, as do many other Lewis-related songs.

Friday, March 27, 2015

Spooky Bisexual Erotica: Sharing the Stranger

When I proofread this short story the other day, I was kind of... scandalized? Am I allowed to be scandalized by my own work? I guess I'd just forgotten how weird and dirty it was. I actually thought it was a purely lesbian tale about stepsisters spending the night in a haunted house. It's not. There's a dude in it who looks like Jack White and may or may not be a vampire. Don't ask me--I just wrote the thing.

Anyhoo... I recommend.  It's taboo and it's HOT.

Sharing the Stranger
A Dark Tale of Forbidden Fertility
by Giselle Renarde

Valerie and Marissa are spending the night in a remote old farmhouse. The last thing they expect is a knock at the door. When Raphael appears out of nowhere, they’re possessed. What is it about this strange figure that has them so mesmerized? Is it his pale skin? His raven hair? His silver-tipped walking stick and shoes that are inexplicably clean despite the mud all around?

Perhaps Raphael’s most alluring quality is his ability to make the girls want things they never imagined… and do things they’ll never forget…

A forbidden first-time fertility tale.

Now Available from Amazon|
Amazon UK|
Amazon Canada|
Amazon Australia|


“Valerie?” I asked, skulking around the corner.

She was standing in the entrance with the door wide open.

In the darkened entryway stood a man who looked neither young nor old. His dark hair fell in greasy strands across his gaunt cheeks. He had that pale sort of skin that gave way to blue bags under his eyes, the way I looked when I didn’t get a good nine hours of sleep. But there was something about him… something inexplicably appealing…

“Marissa,” Valerie said, opening the door a little wider. “This is Raphael. He says he used to live here.”

Raphael reached for my hand and I gave it to him in an instant. “Marissa? What a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.” When I felt his cold fingers against my palm, my knees weakened. I almost collapsed against the door when he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

Any other guy did that, I’d kick him in the nads.

But Raphael had these eyes, these piercing green eyes that convinced me everything was okay.

“Soft skin you have. Just like your sister’s.” He looked from her to me. “Such lovely young women you are. Same eyes you have. I see the family resemblance.”

Valerie broke out in a blush and said, “Oh, we’re not related. We’re just stepsisters. Our parents only got married less than a year ago.”

“Ahh,” Raphael said, nodding. “Then you have not lived here very long?”

“No, we just moved in,” I said, rushing to speak before Valerie could get a word in. “Before that we lived in the city. It’s very different, living out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“Very different,” the stranger agreed.

Now Available from Amazon|
Amazon UK|
Amazon Canada|
Amazon Australia|

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

#RandomBookIWrote Wednesday: Bali Nights

Here's a book I decided to write while watching a documentary about male sex workers catering to female clients on the beaches of Bali. Come to think of it, a lot of book ideas come to me while I'm watching documentaries.

Amazon UK:

Erotic romance by Giselle Renarde explores lust and sexual fantasies on the sandy shores of Bali...

Do Beach Boys really exist? They’re said to be hot young surfers who sell their bodies on the sandy shores of Bali—and not to other men, oh no. Beach Boys specialize in seducing women.

According to Kimmy, Beach Boys are not only real, but they’re Bali’s top tourist attraction. And she should know, considering she hired one last time she vacationed there. How she convinced co-worker Shandra to fly halfway around the world just to pay a guy for sex, Shandra will never know… until their first day in Bali, when she falls for Man: tall, dark, handsome, and on the make.

There’s something different about Man—he’s nothing like the guys back home. Shandra can tell him things she’s never shared with anyone, shed her inhibitions, and abandon herself to the best sex of her life. Now she understands why Kimmy was so anxious to return to her Beach Boy, Budi.

With Man’s encouragement, Shandra surrenders to a lust for men (and women) she’s long denied. But there’s more to a Beach Boy than meets the eye. Are Budi and Man really as trustworthy as Shandra and Kimmy think, or will their secrets shatter the girls forever?

Amazon UK:

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Tell Me What You're Up To, Lilith Lo!

It's "Tell Me What You're Up To Tuesday." Sorry I missed last week, by the way. I was out of town and thought I'd post when I got home at 4 in the afternoon. Walked through my door, cleaned out the litter boxes, crashed on the couch. That was it. I was out for the night.

Anyhoo, today's guest is Lilith Lo!

Giselle: Tell Me What You're Up To, Lilith Lo!

Lilith Lo: Morning Giselle :) I can feel the heat from Canada all the way down here! Fabulous work.

On the stove - is a mess I need to clean up from when I made coffee this morning and spilled the sugar. :)

On the books - I'm writing two series. One has become known as Thor Porn. The official series title is Gods of Lust. Book 1, Rapture, will be released in late March. I grew a bit weary of Thor being delivered sans erotica time and again.

The second series is Vespa's Sapiens. Book 1 is available now. A sci-fi series that puts the Sexy in World Domination.

On the Roundabout - I have a list of things to do that's a mile long. Every day I work morning to night and somehow I've only managed to slip further behind!

Giselle: Got a new book out? What's it called?

Lilith Lo: Relax

Giselle: Done. Now tell me about this book LOL

Lilith Lo: A couple trapped in a sexually repressed marriage sought out sex therapy - and then discovers a new passion while putting their counselor's suggestions into practice.

Giselle: I love couples trapped in sexually repressed marriages! Where can readers buy it?

Lilith Lo:

Giselle: Where can readers find you?

Lilith Lo: Website:
Twitter: @lilithsirinlo

Monday, March 23, 2015

...but the weird part was...

Random middle-of-the-night post, here. My girlfriend had this dream about us. And when I say US, that includes YOU:

I had a weird dream ... well not really weird but different for me .. usually dont dream about sex

.. it was one of those no lead-up no end dreams .. just the action in the middle ..

I finally got my entire hand inside you .. all the way past the wrist .... you were totally naked flat on a table with a velvet table cloth and you kept trying to pull your shoulders up so you could get a view of what I was doing .. but the angle was wrong and you kept wincing with a touch of hurt but smiling to encouraging me to keep going

... but the weird part was ....

.. that you didnt seem to notice (or if you did you didnt care) that there were people around watching sort of like bleacher style and they were making comments and encouragements 

.. weird huh ?

Saturday, March 21, 2015

#MySexySaturday Sapphic Confessions: 24 Kinky Lesbian Sex Stories

Is your life lacking lesbians?  No?  Well, lucky you. Sheesh...

What I'm trying to say is there's a new book in the world, and it's full of lesbian letter-style erotica!  Sapphic Confessions: 24 Kinky Lesbian Sex Stories is just what it says on the box--two dozen tantalizing tales, available in print and as an ebook!

And you know the really great part? You can get the ebook at a low introductory price from select retailers--limited time only, so act fast!

Amazon UK:
All Romance Ebooks:

This 7-paragraph excerpt is brought to you by the sensuality scientiststs at My Sexy Saturday. From the story “Could Have Been Any Girl”:

“You gotta fuck me,” I growled, crawling from her arms.

Until she glanced at the group of dykes watching us kiss, I’d nearly forgotten we were on a city street.

“What, right here?” she asked. Her voice was squeaky and high, and she cleared her throat before saying, “We got an audience, babygirl.”

I didn’t care. I turned around, leaned against the brick wall, and spread my legs. “Fuck me. Hard.”

The dykes were all watching when my reluctant stranger shoved her hand between my thighs and shifted my thong out of the way. When the stiff night air kissed my cunt, I gasped. It felt so new to be exposed like this, out on the street before a group of gawking lesbians.

The stranger took her turn with me, and the moment those thick fingers slid inside my pussy I was a helpless.

“Yeah, fuck me,” I moaned, bucking back at her hand, making her fingers move hot and fast. “Harder!”

Get Sapphic Confessions ON SALE now at...
Amazon UK:
All Romance Ebooks:

Get it in print from: