Wednesday, April 28, 2010

It's Not a Secret Anymore

It's no secret: more and more of us girls identify as queer or bisexual. I know more than a couple women who are decidedly straight, but they've had or dreamed of having relationships with other women. It's no secret: I love my girlfriend, but if Professor Snape knocked at my door you know I'd have a crack at him. (What is with my weird Snape obsession? Anyway...)

Some of us girls love, admire, desire, respect, want, need, lust after girls AND boys. We do. No judgements. No higher value placed on one or the other. We could fall for a girl or a guy. We could go for a story about lesbian romance or straight.

It's for US that I wrote my newest book, ONDINE. There's straight romance in there, there's lesbian romance, and there's sex, sex, and more sex. Let's cross some boundaries together. Let's enjoy different sexualities in one book. Let's do it!

Ondine has something for everyone! Do you like darling romance about clumsy artists falling for rich boys? Got it! Do you love girls succumbing to the temptation other women? Got it! How about pansexual hippie orgies and M/F/F ménage? Got those too! If you love it, Ondine 's got it! This title is already available as an audio book from iTunes, Audible and Audible UK, and now you can get it in print or as an e-book !

Novice painter Evelyn Fon gets more than she bargained for after receiving her first big commission with the brand new Drinkwater Hotel. Who would have guessed Gavin Drinkwater, heir to the family fortune, would take such a keen personal interest in her? But when Evelyn arrives at the hotel's elegant Gala Celebration, she soon discovers she's there as a date for Gavin Drinkwater Senior, her crush's elitist - albeit incredibly handsome - father!

In attempting to escape the party - not to mention her embarrassment - Evelyn stumbles upon Gavin's mother, Imelda. Over a bottle of champagne, Imelda reveals the 20-year-old tale of her torrid lesbian love affair with a young ballerina named Ondine. But, as Evelyn soon finds out from the Drinkwater patriarch, there's more deception to her love story than even Imelda is aware. Can Evelyn uncover the truths buried in the past and reunite Gavin's estranged free-loving parents?Perhaps her role in the family drama will even earn her a place in the bashful heir's heart.

An erotic journey through the worlds of ballet, art, and passionate liaisons, Ondine is a sensual exploration of pansexual free love wrapped in a boy-meets-girl tale of mix-ups and misunderstandings. Warning: This title contains graphic language and depictions of lesbian sex, a pansexual orgy, and M/F/F ménage.
Erotic Excerpt from Ondine

Ondine's impulse to flee subsided as Yvette traced gloved fingers across her forearm, consoling, "Ah! No, no, no! Don't cry, ma chere. We don't want your eyes all red and puffy as you greet your future husband." Yvette found a tissue in her purse and dried her eyes. "There. You look more beautiful than ever. I would be proud if you were my bride."

Her bride? What a ridiculous thing to say! Yvette's bride? Champagne bubbles effervesced in Ondine's belly, rising up through her chest until they burst as laughter from her throat. She couldn't contain the joy of being close again after weeks of estrangement and longing. A smile crawled across Yvette's cheeks as laughter burst the tension pervading the cold church room.

"Clotilde did my hair. Do you like it?" Ondine asked, fishing for a compliment.

"Absolument!" she giggled. "I always said you looked good with your hair up."

Giddy now, Ondine danced over to the old sofa at the far end of the room and collapsed there in her bridal gown. Yvette followed to lean in beside her, midnight black against pristine white. What a relief to feel at ease after so long. How wonderful to giggle and chat, and simply feel comfortable with Yvette again.

"There's something I have to tell you," Ondine admitted, gazing into her friend's cheerful eyes. Of course, she couldn't say the words with Yvette looking right at her, so she leaned in close and whispered, "I can't kiss Rejean without imagining you. Isn't that scandalous?"

For all her reluctance, now that she'd finally given voice to her irreverent desires, they no longer seemed so devastating. In fact, they seemed rather funny. Ondine laughed. They both did.

"Do you think I can ever be happy with Rejean?" Ondine asked.

"I hope so, for your sake," she sighed with seeming sincerity. Yvette spoke slowly into her ear, allowing each word the weight it deserved. "But if you want the absolute truth, I suspect you'd be more fulfilled if I were your lover."

A new wave of desire bred goose bumps along Ondine's bare arms. Yvette sat so near to her she could feel the intense heat radiating from that body cloaked all in black. Their cheeks brushed as Yvette leaned back to look into her eyes. Ondine knew she was about to get kissed. She knew it and did nothing to prevent it. She wanted that kiss. Would it feel as she'd always imagined? Soft and warm? Slow and languorous?

Yvette placed a firm hand on Ondine's cheek, holding her gaze steady. As their lips touched, glossy pink against deep crimson, heavy breaths escaped them both. Ondine savoured their long-awaited first kiss, her frantic tongue swimming in the warm pool of Yvette's mouth. Her body was electrified. Particles of energy darted through her like shooting stars. Never has she imagined a woman could kiss so heatedly, with such blazing intensity. Ondine wanted more. She wanted everything.

Welcoming Yvette's touch, she hiked up the skirts of her gown with desperate determination. Moth to flame, Yvette's hand cupped her mound over her new silk panties. Cupped and squeezed. Beneath her bridal lingerie, sweet juices flowed. Surrendering herself completely to the woman in black, she laid limp beneath the torrent of kisses. Whatever Yvette wished for, Ondine desired.

Forcing her satin-gloved hand beneath Ondine's panties, Yvette plunged impassioned fingers into her silken slit. The nectar flowed faster as she rubbed those tender lips. Yvette broke away to watch in the mirror, mesmerized as she massaged the bride's clito, but Ondine had waited far too long for that kiss. She wouldn't let it slip away so easily. Grasping Yvette's head in her hands, she brought the girl's lips to hers and kissed them in a frenzy. There wasn't much time. She had to get married soon.

Check out Ondine today!

Thanks for reading!
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Leslie Goosemoon Rides Again

New Release Alert!

The newest of my transgender lesbian stories is now available from the TransFix Line at lyd Alterotica!

Leslie Goosemoon the cowgirl used to be Leslie Goosemoon the cowboy, and folks in these parts don't take kindly to changes.

New to the rodeo experience, Dina doesn't understand why the biggest star on the circuit is despised by all. When she runs a search on the rodeo champ, it all becomes clear: Leslie Goosemoon the cowgirl used to be Leslie Goosemoon the cowboy, and folks in these parts don't take too kindly to those people. The town's intolerable ignorance drives Dina to seek out Leslie at her modest cabin, where desire is sparked by enlightening conversation, dusty jeans, and a refreshing shower in the great outdoors.

“Leslie? Leslie Goosemoon?” Dina cried, chasing after the rodeo champ. “Wait up, will ya?”

The remarkable rider stopped in her tracks twenty meters ahead, and Dina slowed her gait from a gallop to an amble. It felt like a good five minutes before the mysterious stranger turned her head. Even when she did, the brim of her tawny cowboy hat obscured her eyes until she took it off to wipe dusty sweat from her brow.

“Well?” Leslie Goosemoon prodded.

Dina’s blood ran cold. She wasn’t anticipating such piercing blue eyes on a rough and tumble rider. Her eyes should be brown like the mud spray across her cheek.

“Hi,” Dina began, forgetting why she’d chased her down in the first place.

“Whaddya want?” the rider grumbled, her quick-draw stance keeping Dina at a distance.

“It just seems strange that nobody came to congratulate you. All the other girls in competition have their legions of fans. Here you’re the big winner and you’ve got no one telling you how great you rode today.” Dina tried to sound casual, taking a tentative step forward.

With a shrug, Leslie Goosemoon replied, “Lots of folks on the circuit could do without me.”

“Well, of course they could; if you weren’t around, those other girls might have a chance in hell at winning. Do you always ride like that?”

Another shrug, and a fraction of a smile.

“This is my first time,” Dina went on with a keen smirk. “At a rodeo, I mean.”

“That so?” Leslie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup.” Silence made Dina nervous, so she filled it. “My roommate’s boyfriend, Rod the Clod, commandeered our TV during the Calgary Stampede last year. I never liked cowboy stuff before that, but when you’re subjected to something night and day…”

“…it grows on you.”

“Exactly. Although, I never did warm up to Rod the Clod.” Dina hesitated, but what the hell. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “I probably hated him so much because that rat bastard totally crushed my chance to get with Vicky. Hard to make a move with him on the couch twenty-four-seven.”

With a wolfish smile, Leslie gave her a blatant once-over. “You lookin’ to get over Vicky?”

Dina shrugged, meeting her penetrative gaze straight on. Leslie took two steps closer. In one fluid motion, her arm swooped around Dina’s waist and a dusty hand brushed through her hair, firm against her scalp. Those pink lips hovered like Tantalus’ water glass, so close she could nearly sip them.

“Best way to get over someone is to get under someone.”

Buy Leslie Goosemoon Rides Again by Giselle Renarde Now from All Romance ebooks!

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Monday, April 19, 2010

NEW RELEASE: Waxing is for Pussies

Like lesbian erotica?

Me too. That's why I write it. The newest of my new lesbian releases is a great little Torquere Press Sip called WAXING IS FOR PUSSIES. Best part? It's only $1.29!

Claire is a butch dyke who doesn't go in for all the "girly" stuff. Her girlfriend Billie works at a salon, joyfully painting nails all day. When Billie takes up hot waxing, she asks Claire to be her test subject. She also asks her salon buddy Soo Jin to give her hand. How will Claire and Billie react when Soo Jin takes the request for help as an invitation to play?


"Have you ever had a bikini wax?" Billie asked as she ate.

I laughed. "Do I look like someone who gets waxed?"

With a shrug, she said, "I don't know. You got a pedicure once."

"From you," I reminded her. Billie lifted a piece of sushi saturated in soy sauce to her mouth. "I just wanted to meet you. Every time I tried to say hi on the street, I chickened out. I get nervous talking to beautiful girls."

Billie smiled as she chewed. "Want one?"

I waved away the sushi. "Nah, I already ate, but thanks."

Shaking her pretty head, she leaned forward to kiss my cheek. I knew she'd left a big red lipstick stain in her wake, but I ignored it for the moment. "Not sushi, sweetie," she cooed like a crafty little dove. "A bikini wax. Want one?"

Without meaning to, I laughed out loud. There were so many reasons to say no, I didn't know where to begin. "What, you mean at the salon?" I asked. "Because I'm pretty sure your boss banned me for life."

"We could do it after hours," she countered. "I'm a key holder."

What other excuses could I come up with? "I've heard it hurts like hell."

"Oh, don't give me that," she said with a sneaky grin. She spread some wasabi on her sushi and topped it with pickled ginger before setting it in a pool of soy sauce. "You have how many tattoos? I think you can handle a little hot wax."

Rising from the footstool, she pulled down on the hem of the black cotton dress that served as her uniform. The one last piece of sushi, she left in front of me in its plastic box. I stared at it in displaced awe. After tiptoeing to the door, she turned around and said, "Come down after hours. We'll have a good time."

Buy Now for only $1.29!

Thanks for reading!
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Saturday, April 17, 2010

First Kiss Revisited

I thought I'd already told you the story of my first kiss with my girlfriend Sweet...the one on my balcony when she came to my house at one in the morning to finally reveal herself to me in full female form. My sister says I repeat myself too much, so I was going to resist retelling the story until I actually read my old blog entry entitled Same Old Sparkling Eyes and realized I'd left out the kiss.

So, at risk of pissing off my sister, I will repeat my story--this time, without neglecting the kiss.

This recollection takes us back to the time before my Sweet came out to me identifying as a male-to-female transsexual. Remember, when I first met Sweet, she presented as a boy. She, who was then he (at least, to me...) had made some strong suggestion leading me to believe she identified as a cross-dresser. In fact, don't tell her this because she'd kick my ass if she knew, but the nickname Sweet was originally short for "Sweet Transvestite." And I feel like a huge scuzz admitting that, because transvestite is not a word in my vocabulary anymore. I'll just have to hope she isn't reading this post. If you are, baby, you know I didn't mean it like that...I just call you Sweet because you give sugar...LOL

Oh god, I get scuzzier by the second, don't I?
Anyway, let me tell this story before I end up in the doghouse again. I'll start with my post from way back when, otherwise known as Thursday July 17, 2008:

Before last night, I had an awareness, of course, of Sweet’s feminine persona. I knew the other half existed. I’d heard the voice. I’d seen the pictures. We’d spoken on the subject. A lot.

But the experience was still missing. I’d never met the girl face-to-face.

Earlier this week, Sweet mentioned being torn: he wanted to share “her” with me, share her directly. “But why?” he went on to ask. “What’s the point?”

Sweet’s always known how receptive I am to meeting the girl in him. I’ve been very clear on that point. I’m all-embracing.
Yesterday I was out having dinner with a friend. When I got home, there were about 300 messages on my answering machine. “Just calling to say hi…” “just wanted to see if you had plans…” “Just seeing if you’re home yet…” The phone rang even before I was finished listening to them. It was Sweet. But not just everyday Sweet. It was the girl.

“I was out having dinner with Mara,” I told her.
“Oh, that’s great. That’s good…” she began, hesitating. “I just thought maybe we could go to the movies. It’s too late now, but…”

My heart sank. I can see stupid Mara anytime, and here I spent the evening with her instead of with
her. Sweet. Her. I didn’t even know her name.

“Hey, who the hell are you, Lady? Here some random woman calls me up, doesn’t even introduce herself, and wants to take me out? Talk about presumptuous!”
Sweet giggled.

“What’s your name?” I probed.

“I can tell you that when I see you.”

I’ve always been a fan of immediate gratification and, having missed that evening’s opportunity to see my Sweet in this new-to-me form, I was dreadfully concerned this might be a one-time-only opportunity. He’d expressed his trepidations before. How could I be sure he’d want to unveil his feminine aspect for me again?

I wouldn’t normally make demands on the time of someone who lives so far away from me but this was a special occasion. “Come over, Sweet. Come now.”
At 1:15 in the morning, a beautiful woman appeared on my doorstep. I already knew the person, but the girl was new. We had a cup of tea and chatted. She told me her name, at long last. She was…oh, I’m fluttery-hearted just thinking about her… You know what I was most taken by? Those same old sparkling eyes, of course. Like I wasn’t having enough problems suppressing that question of love…

“I’m feeling self-conscious,” I told her.

“Because you’re so much prettier than me.”

Sweet giggled.
Cute story, right? Well, it doesn't end there. I kissed her. We went out to the balcony, teacups in hand. We sat across from each other in my ugly white lawn chairs and we ate chocolate-covered digestive cookies. She wore a green skirt and top, and those kind of heels that have the toe cut out. I set down my teacup and put my head in her lap. She pet my hair. I pet her bare ankle. It was summertime--no need for stockings.

When I looked up into her face with minimal makeup, I fell in love with her all over again. No, that isn't right. The truth is that I realized in that moment why I'd fallen in love with her, or rather, why I'd fallen for someone I'd met as a fairly unattractive boy. When I looked at Sweet presenting female and happy, happy...I knew I'd fallen for the woman hidden behind the male facade.I kissed her lips. Not a big, messy smooch, but more than just a peck. It was the sort of kiss where you press your lips against hers and then you breathe together for a moment, and then release. You gaze into each other's eyes, and you want to cry because you're so overwhelmed by the emotion of the experience.

She went home that night. We talked on the phone first thing the next day, and when topic of our first kiss as women came up, Sweet threw me for a loop. I told her how it made me feel, and you know what she said? "I felt...uncomfortable."

It was the most highly emotional kiss I'd ever experience, and it made her feel uncomfortable.


"I wasn't sure why you did it," she went on. Sweet explained to me that she'd never viewed her rather new female self as a sexual being. She hated that the word transsexual contained the word sexual, because it made her feel like people would view her as some kind of sexual deviant. She wondered if I fetishized her, or if I viewed her as a "guy in a dress" and I got off on that sort of thing.

She said it was okay that I kissed her, that maybe one day she'd let me kiss her again, but I needed to give her time. She wasn't sure what she wanted. It was all so confusing, she told me. We would never have sex--that was for certain. There were so many thing we'd never do.

And now, two years later, I'm pleased to say we have done every single one of those things Sweet said we would never do. I didn't force her. I did take time, and I gave her time, and in that time she came to realize I loved her and desired her for who she was: my gorgeous girlfriend. Not a sex fiend or "guy in a dress," but a woman...with a pleasingly large clit. It comes in handy!

So, that is my first kiss story. It's a sweet story, isn't it? I'm glad a repeat myself.

Giselle Renarde

Another Spanking Antho! (Gee, you'd think I liked it!)

Hello my little monsters!

Long time, not post. Sorry about that. I've had a ridiculous week of falling asleep in front of the TV.

But today I'm the bearer of good news! X-cite e-books has just released yet a second spanking anthology, and my story "In Tooth and Claw" is featured therein. Remember "Spring Fever"? Anybody? (It appeared in Violet Blue's antho "Girls on Top" and the eXcessica "Spring 2009" antho) Anyhoo, that was my sweet and spicy story about Dotschy, who falls in love with a guy she works with. Connor is a cross-dresser, and Dotschy likes it.

In Tooth and Claw is a follow-up to Spring Fever:

Dotschy's reached that point in life where she never wants to bring another man into her home. It's one thing to fuck a co-worker in an underground parking lot, quite another to have him in her own bed. Connor, the sweet and sensitive cross-dresser, understands her apprehensions and assuages her fears. Good thing! Had she not invited him home, Dotschy would never have discovered how delicious a good dose of pain can be...

*sigh* Spankings are fun. Plus there's a cat in this story and we all love the pussies. (?)

Six of the Best Spanking Stories - Volume 2
By: Miranda Forbes |
Giselle Renarde |
Elizabeth Coldwell |
Dee Jaye |
Fulani |
K D Grace |
M Renee |
Published By: Andrews UK Ltd
ISBN # 9781907016967
Word Count: 19,159
Heat Index

Categories: Erotica BDSM Short Stories

So, it from ARe.

Giselle Renarde

(p.s. I still love you even when I'm not here)

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Sweetheart Rolando

Who loves a hilarious (and molto sexy) fairy tale adaptation? I do! I do!

And so do the good folks at Xcite books! That's why they're bringing you another of my Grimm stories. Those brothers would be rolling in their graves if they new what their precious little Lily got up to in my version of their story "Sweetheart Roland." Frankly, I think my Sweetheart Rolando is better! LOL

Sweetheart Rolando by Giselle Renarde

When Lily's wicked stepmother tries to chop off her feet, she must flee with her sweetheart Rolando. To outsmart the witch, Lily transforms into the flower that shares her name. But Rolando and the witch share a secret so shameful he leaves his lily to rot. Luckily, a passing shepherd brings her home only to discover her mysterious sexual abilities. Who will be wed when this story ends? Lily and the shepherd? Rolando and the witch? Or Lily and her sweetheart Rolando?

Extract from Sweetheart Ronaldo

It befell that a lonely shepherd moved his sheep through Lily’s field. When he beheld the poor flower, she appeared to him so pretty and so mournful that he felt a great affinity for her. Plucking her from the ground, he took her along, stem laced into his belt and broad petal against his shirtless chest. Having retained scent receptors from her human days, Lily took in the heady musk of the working man. His body oozed liquid masculinity, encouraging her yellow pistil to soak his flesh with nectar. Lily eased her way across the downy hair of his chest until she could nudge her white petal against the shepherd’s tender nipple. Using her pistil like a tongue, she licked that bud in circles.

‘Why, if I didn’t know better I would think this flower was coming on to me!’ the shepherd said to his sheep. When he arrived home to his one-room cabin, he placed Lily in a clear glass vase on the table.

From that time forth, strange things happened in the shepherd’s house. At night, Lily hopped from her vase and floundered like a trout to the mat where her manly shepherd lay asleep. She crept under the covers, leaving traces of dew from his ankle to his thigh. The musk of his male parts overwhelmed her senses, and she traced her moist pistil along the crease of his hairy sacs. His cock responded immediately, growing by inches.

Along his hard meat, Lily traced her pistil until she arrived at the pleat in his cockhead. That, too, she licked with her yellow tongue, slathering his eager tip with love nectar. In his sleep, he responded encouragingly, so Lily dove down on him to gobble his entire shaft into her soft-as-silk mouth. Folding her white petals around the shepherd’s drooling cock, she formed a tight satin cunt and moved slowly, up and away, then back down. As she plunged, Lily coiled her wet pistil around the musky man’s hard cock.

The sleeping shepherd moaned with delight. It was as though a silky-wet cunt with a spectacularly flexible tongue sucked his cock. The impossibility of it all convinced him, when he awoke in the morning, he had dreamed the enchanted blowjob. Why his Lily lay beside him in bed, smelling of come no less, remained a mystery.

The next night, his delightful dream improved. As the tight silken cunt sucked like a demon on his straining shaft, her sly stem made its way around his muscular thigh. Not only did Lily’s wet pistil coil around his cockhead, but her long green stem also wrapped itself around his hairy ball-sacs. As if that weren’t gratifying enough, she ran the base of her stem along the sensitive path at the base of his balls until she arrived at his twitching asshole.

As Lily sucked the shepherd’s cock, his willing hole twitched under the tickle of her stem. Moistening the entryway with the juice of her veins, she traced circles around it in preparation. When her manly man began to ooh and ahh above the covers, Lily knew he was ready for deep penetration. She launched her solid stem clear past his assring and into that tube of elastic flesh, thrusting forth as she squeezed on his thigh and balls. As she plunged deeper into the shepherd’s ass, he responded by clutching the covers with such violence she feared he might tear them in two.

Yes, that's right--flower shifter sex! You have got to buy this book! Sweetheart Rolando by Giselle Renarde

Hugs and Love,


Tuesday, April 6, 2010

A New Cover for Faithful John!

It's got bondage, rope play, a love story, a curse, and a BDSM dungeon. Now Faithful John and the Dungeon Ravens has a new cover as well! Isn't it hot?

In this loose adaptation of the Grimm Brothers' tale Faithful John, the queen's untimely death leaves her son in charge of the brothel-like castle dungeon. Though her devoted servant, Faithful John, promised the queen he would keep the young man from the cursed Mistress Mei, nothing can divide royalty and young love. When the young king asks for her hand in marriage, she realizes her acceptance is a death sentence and says yes even so. Can Faithful John save Mistress Mei from her prescribed fate, or will his devotion see him turned to stone?

Buy Now from All Romance ebooks!


Sunday, April 4, 2010

Attention Authors: Free Advertising!

I know we all love free ad space, so I'm reposting this lovely offer from Denyse at Sensual Treats.
Giselle Renarde

Hello everyone!
I know we have a few authors and lots of readers who can spread the word, so here we go, feel free to repost this information.

Over the next few days, there is going to be a small change in policy here. The Sensual Treats Website is going to be a little bit different from the magazine in regard to advertising. As of this issue, I'm not repeating all the magazine ads on the site. The new change will be that Sensual Friends is becoming Sensual Whispers and all the sites listed on that page are going to be those currently there, and bunches of stuff for romance and women: things like links to Victorian's Secret, Aren't We Naughty - just playful, sexy stuff.

The change in the magazine is that I'm creating a Classified page called De-Classified Secrets and will list, for free, a short text only ad. I'm using Twitter as the guideline. If it's the length of a Tweet, it's free - you want more than that, and you pay a couple bucks. Your adline, or promo can run 150 characters (spaces included), plus your link. How's that sound to you? Just send us your "ad/promo" at our email, subject "Free Ad", and you'll be added to the list for that page, and it will appear in the next issue of the magazine.

If you have any questions at all, please let me know.

Webmistress / Editor - Sensual Treats Magazine

Friday, April 2, 2010

Put on your Easter Bonnet and head to The Little Burlesque House by the Sea!

Happy Easter to all who celebrate! What better way to enjoy the holiday than savour some chocolate and read my "Easter Egg" release from Shadowfire Press? The Little Burlesque House by the Sea is a lesbian/MFF post-war historical, complete with Amish sex! What more could you ask? Maybe you'd like to know how girls end up working in a house of ill-repute. Maybe you like to see families grow and reunite. Well, we've got that too! And a whole lot of burlesque to boot!

Sapphic secrets abound at the little burlesque house by the sea!

The Little Burlesque House by the Sea
A New Lesbian/MFF Historical
by Giselle Renarde

Madame Mireille's ocean-side parlour, Les Trois Dames Jouissantes, is one of the last houses holding to the tenets of classic burlesque. They specialize in raunchy comedy
sketches, undulating fan dances, chorus lines and, of course, the striptease. In post-war Maritimes, Trois Dames enjoys notoriety thanks to an all-female cast combining the smart with the sensual.

It was this reputation that drew the troupe's two newest members to the little burlesque house by the sea. Ginger the saucy redhead is master of the Comedy Striptease.
New to the business, Wild Orchid embodies all that is innocent--or so
she'd have you believe! Secrets abound at Les Trois Dames Jouissantes,
and it takes more than slippery fingers to bring them to the surface.

Brand-Spanking-New Excerpt!

Around the dormitory, where Leili kept mostly to herself, the girls all looked rather plain. In costumes and stage makeup, they were gorgeous. Every last one of them. A thrill ran up Leili’s spine. She hopped on the spot, tapping her fingernails together. Two nights from now, or perhaps even tomorrow, Orchid would make her debut appearance in that line.

The girls waved their feathers in the air in such a way that the girl in front always managed to conceal everybody else’s...what was the word, again? Blisters! Every so often, the lot of them would turn and you’d catch a glimpse of their ruffled panties in a shade of pink so subdued they looked almost grey. But the sequins, ah, the bright pink sequins down the front glittered like stars under the stage lights. With every roll of the girls’ hips and flick of the feathers, the girls’ scant clothing produced a veiled shimmer effect.

She and Ginger rehearsed in their own clothing. This was the first time Leili got to see the costumes. They were spectacular. And the girls! The way they moved their bodies...they had something Leili didn’t have. They had

“How do they move like that?” she whispered to the brassy woman at her side.

“How should I know?” Ginger glowered. “I’m the one who can’t get the moves down, remember?”

“I don’t mean the dance steps,” Leili said. “I mean the way they move. You move that way too. It’s...”


“I suppose.” Leili realized this woman was the closest thing she had to a friend at Trois Dames.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” Ginger went on. “It’s sexual.”

That was the word. The dance was so sexual, so sensual, so erotic, it had her insides swirling. When the fan dance ended, the girls shuffled offstage to hoots and hollers from the jerks. Salomé’s Seven Veils act was up next. Warm butterflies fluttered up and down Leili’s core as Sally–-Salomé on stage–-took her mark draped in layers of translucent fabric. The entrancing eastern music only compounded the excitement in her core. How strange to be so uniquely aroused by the performance, when the girl she’d met at lunch had been nothing to write home about.

“I don’t know how to be that way,” Leili said, fixated on Sally’s dance but inching in front of Ginger. If this lady was anywhere near as aroused by the Veils act, and if she was anything like Madame, she wouldn’t be able to resist. Reaching up the wall, Leili turned the knob on the gas lamp above their heads until their little corner of the house was completely in the dark. She took a step back, posing herself against Ginger’s soft form. For a moment, she didn’t breathe.

Click the link to buy

Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Quick Six Interview with Ruth J. Hartman

1. Hi Ruth! Would you be so kind as to tell us what type of stories you write?

RJH: I love writing sweet romances, whether it's contemporary or fantasy.

2. What are you reading right now?

RJH: "Mrs. Miracle" by Debbie Macomber

3. I hear music in the background…what’s playing?

RJH: Journey

4. Do you have a favourite naughty word?

RJH: Not really :)

5. Is there a word or phrase that absolutely makes you cringe?

RJH: Embalming. It's creepy!

6. Be honest: What are you snacking on?

RJH: Mini-Reese Cups

Promo time! Flog your wares. Any exciting new releases? How can readers find out more about you and your work?

"Purr" in the romance anthology "Must Love Cats" is on sale at Midnight Showcase Fiction

My memoir, "My Life in Mental Chains" is on sale at Pipers' Ash

A romance novel "Flossophy of Grace" will be out with Midnight Showcase Fiction in Feb/Mar 2011.
More info can be found at my website:

Must Love Cats looks wonderful! I do love cats, and they love me--a little too much at times. One of my boys lies on my office chair, and I don't have the heart to kick him off so I end up sitting on the edge of the seat, and then the other one crawls into my lap and demands my attention. I'm an author covered in cats!
Thanks for the interview!
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!