Monday, February 28, 2011

Quick Six TNG with Maureen O. Betita

It's been a couple weeks since I posted a Quick Six (Sorry! I know everybody enjoys them!) but the Quick Six is back today with Maureen O. Betita:

1. What does "vanilla" mean to you?

A scent that entices. Flavor wise, it is something to be decorated and enhanced with bits of rich surprise.

2. Is there any moment from your life that you remember in slow motion?

A car accident where a Volkswagen pulled out in front of my midsized truck and I looked down the hood to the startled face of a little boy as I bore down on them. And tried to stop by pulling back on my steering wheel. (All walked away without a scratch and none of it was my fault!)

3. What's the most unsettling movie you've ever seen?

I can't remember the title of this movie. Something made back in the 60's where a woman thought her fiance was taking her home to meet his family. Instead he took her to an isolated family estate on an island in the Mediterranean and they proceeded to terrify her until the amount of adrenaline in her body was high enough to withstand the brain transplant planned all along. And the fiance's mother took over her body and life while she watched from the ancient wheelchair bound body they left her with. And she knew it! Totally freaked me out!

4. If you had to get a tattoo on your face, what would you want it to
look like?

Hmmmm! On my face? A crescent moon to the right of my right eye.

5. How many monkeys jumping on the bed?

Depends on the size of the bed and if the monkeys are normal monkeys or undead monkeys.

6. Which of the books or stories you've written is your favourite?

The Kraken's Mirror. At the moment, my one and only book, due out from Decadent Publishing in 2011. (It isn't out yet, so no buy link.) It's the story of Emily Pawes, a widow from the 21st century who falls though a strange mirror and lands in the pirate haven of Tortuga. But this Tortuga is very different than any she's ever read of. It's 1690 and there shouldn't be jugglers on the street corners using rubix cubes. Or pirates working the the sails wearing ipods on their forearms. Or an omnipotent albino Kraken overseeing the world from deep within the Caribbean! Or a devastatingly charming pirate captain who seems intent of seducing her.

Captain Alan Silvestri isn't sure what to make of the woman he keeps dreaming of. But when he sees her on the streets, he sweeps her away for a night of intense passion. Only later does he realize this woman holds the answer to defeating his 5o year curse of good luck.

All through the machinations of the great Albino Kraken!

Upcoming Decadent Publishing Author (every Sunday) (every other Tuesday) (every Friday as 2nd Chance)

Thursday, February 24, 2011

NEW RELEASE: The Public Life of Private Paulsen

From the Transfix line at loveyoudivine Alterotica comes a pretty little postwar historical about one of the first people to undergo a full change of sex. It's a love story more than anything else, and really quite sweet and beautiful.

Private Paulsen went abroad and came back a broad.


World War Two changed the lives of all GIs who went into battle, but in the case of Private Paulsen, post-war transformations prove wildly more dramatic. After undergoing one of the world’s first sex change operations in Europe, the Private returns home with a splash…a brand new identity. Pearl Paulsen is instantly the most intriguing and yet reviled celebrity in the country, but her fame provides little comfort when she’s missing the man she loves. When Pearl meets up once again with George, the soldier she fought beside at Normandy, will the sparks they'd suppressed during the war return with a vengeance? Now that Pearl has the body she’s always wanted, can love bloom between the two?

The Public Life of Private Paulsen

by Giselle Renarde
lyd Category: Transfix
Length: 30 pdf Pages / 4000 words
Heat Rating: 3
Formats Available: pdf, prc, lit, zipped html,
lrf, epub, RB,
Ebook Cover Price: $2.00

Purchase from loveyoudivine Alterotica or All Romance ebooks


George stopped short as he approached the Grand Marigold Hotel. Pearl Paulsen! There she was, before his very eyes! His whole body felt topsy-turvy as he surveyed her, from the rhinestone brooch clipped to her mink pillbox hat, down past a matching mink coat, and all the way to her seamless stockings and high-heeled shoes.

Apart from Hollywood starlets, Pearl Paulsen was the most recognizable woman in the country. When she first returned from Europe, her photograph was smeared across the cover of every national daily. Even now she appeared in the odd newsreel, still greeted by the jeers and hisses of cinemagoers. But George never hissed, and he held to the hope that very few among the hecklers held any feelings of enmity toward poor Pearl.

And now she stood before him, chatting with the dapper men and elegant women of her sycophantic clique. Pearl Paulsen! What a glamorous girl she’d become since the war! With her blonde SwirlaWave hairdo and her deep red lipstick, she looked nothing at all like the young private George had landed beside on the beaches at Normandy.

His mouth opened and a name tumbled out. The wrong name: “Howard!”

Pearl’s head whipped around. Her gaze was hard when it met his. And then recognition sparked, thank goodness, and her expression softened. She smiled faintly at first, but her lips soon wore a full-blown grin. Excusing herself from her elite circle, she ran to George and threw her arms around his shoulders.

“Why if it isn’t good old Georgie Kensington! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Backing away to get a load of George in full military uniform, Pearl snapped up her fallen shoulder bag from the ground. Her wide smile gleamed. “How long has it been? How are you? What are you doing in the big city?”
George wasn’t terribly interested in talking about himself. His life was a bore. He’d much rather hear about hers.

“Is that fellow giving you trouble, Pearl?” one of the men from her clique called out.

“Heavens, no!” she chuckled. The late-evening sky threatened with drizzle, and Pearl grabbed George firmly by the arm and dragged him beneath the hotel’s overhang. “I would like you all to meet a darling man I served with in the army. This is Private George Kensington.”

He’d risen significantly in rank since the war, but George didn’t bother her with that information. The clique mumbled their hellos and then resumed conversations amongst themselves—all but the man who’d interrupted their reunion. “So you knew our girl Pearl on the battlefield, did ya?”

The man’s intense smile made George nervous. “We were like brothers,” he replied in earnest.

“Brothers!” Pearl released a shimmering giggle. “I certainly hope you don’t see me the same way now!”

George gazed down at his feet. “Why, no ma’am. No, I certainly don’t.”

Purchase from loveyoudivine Alterotica or All Romance ebooks


Giselle Renarde

Canada just got hotter!

Call for Submissions: Erotic Mythology Anthology

Hot on the heels of her Uniform Behaviour antho, Lucy Felthouse is putting together a brand new collection of mythologically-based erotic stories! Here's her call for subs:

Call for Submissions

Untitled Anthology
Mythology theme

Editor: Lucy Felthouse
Publisher: Um… me!
Deadline: 30th April 2011
Payment: To be determined – details below

Having thoroughly enjoyed the process of editing my first anthology, Uniform Behaviour, I thought it’d be fun to do another one. This time, however, I put the theme of the anthology out to vote and mythology won! So I kept my word and this is the theme for the as yet untitled eBook. Details are as follows:

I’m looking for stories involving mythology. I want myths and legends from all over the world, and from different periods of time. You can set the stories in the past or the present. That’s pretty much it! Just send me erotic stories from the depths of your imagination.

Please stick to the usual rules, i.e. no underage sex, no non-consensual scenes, incest and other yucky stuff. No poetry, please. Normally I’d also mention bestiality here, but given the theme of the anthology I suspect there are going to be creatures of some kind involved!

I will select 25 stories for this anthology and then split the proceeds equally, dependent on what I receive from each outlet after they take their cut. I’ll be submitting to the usual retailers; Amazon, iBooks, Smashwords, etc. I look forward to reading your stories!

How to submit: Send double-spaced Arial/Calibri 12 point black font Word or RTF document. Your story should be 1,500 – 4,000 words. Please indent the first line of each paragraph half an inch. Please include your word count, real name, pen name (if applicable), and 50 word or less bio in third person. I’ll also require the email address you use for your PayPal account, as this is how I will be paying you when I have myself received funds. You can submit as many stories as you like – within reason!

Please send your completed story to lucy (at) lucyfelthouse (dot) co (dot) uk. In the subject line, please write Submission for Mythology Anthology. I look forward to reading your stories! Closing date is 30th April. Providing I’m not totally swamped with stories, I’ll do my best to come back to you by the end of May. Any questions should also be directed to this email address.

ALSO: Please spread the word! Feel free to post this call on your own blogs/sites, Tweet about it, Facebook it, anything! The more the merrier!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Free Shower Sex! I mean...a free erotic story about it...

Who else loves Oysters & Chocolate? (The website, not the foods--that's a whole other post) Well, I happen to have a new free read posted at O&C. Shower Fittings is a funny little married couple shower sex story.

Shower sex is Sterling’s first love--and it's the one thing Michelle's afraid to do. Trouble is, it's all too easy to slip and fall when you're barefoot in soap and suds. She knows Sterling would do anything for her. Can't she work up the courage to do this one special thing for him? There’s got to be a dreamshower out there for both of them. Too bad they have to do some minor trespassing to get to it.

If you like it and you're into tales of nakedness in all its forms, you might also want to check out the Cleis Press anthology Smooth: Erotic Stories for Women
that first featured Shower Fittings:

Monday, February 21, 2011

A Shout Out to Chosen Families on Family Day

I consider myself very fortunate to be an out queer woman who has a great relationship with her family. There are many, many LGBT folks who aren't so lucky. That's where the idea of the "Chosen Family" comes from.
Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

A chosen family consists of people we have strong ties, even if those ties are not biological. It's kind of a queer community term, but you certainly don't have to be queer to consider yourself a member of a chosen family.

To me, a family is love, and love means sticking it out even when you drive each other crazy. Family consists of those people you can disagree with, maybe have a screaming match with every once in a while, and know they'll still be there the next day.

Family are those people you tell everything, or perhaps delay telling about that new crush because you know they're going to say, "Don't even think about it! She's not good enough for you!" They're the people who laugh when you get a bad haircut and poke your belly when you're putting on weight.

At a glance, this painting of "Family" seems awfully...awful! You might be thinking, "Sheesh, I would never want a family like that!" But family is so much more than just nit-pickers and belly-pokers. They're the people you can call in tears at three o'clock in the morning, the ones who grumble about helping you move yet again but do it anyway. They celebrate holidays with you, and pick up little gifts because "it was on sale and it made me think of you."

A true family's bond is thicker than blood, and when you're with those people who love you unconditionally, you feel their warmth. They'll always be there to support you through life, and you'll always be there for them.

That's a chosen family.

Happy Family Day!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

NEW RELEASE: Painting With Brushes by Giselle Renarde

My first release with Amber Quill Press is out today, and it's on sale for only $1.95 for a limited time only. This baby is MMF ménage, because I know so many of you love the hot man-on-man action. It's full of friction and fun...and then more friction! Enjoy!

Painting With Brushes
by Giselle Renarde

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-066-5 (Electronic)

Claudia detests Mark. Mark detests Claudia. But they both love Jason Paul...

Two years after Claudia’s bisexual husband Jason Paul leaves her to live with Mark, she finds herself unemployed but desperate to stay in the city. As she sees it, the only solution is to move in with her ex and his lover Mark, whom she despises.

When she comes to prep her new bedroom with a fresh coat of paint, Mark immediately criticizes her work. Of course, she won’t hand over her brush to him, but concedes to let him help. Before she knows what’s happening, however, sparks ignite, and Claudia begins to recognize the romantic and erotic possibilities of having two men in her bed and in her life...

Genres: Contemporary / Romantic Comedy / Interracial / Multicultural / Ménage (M/M/F) / Group Sex / Bisexual Activity (M/M)
Heat Level: 3
Length: Amber Kiss (8k words)

Read a short excerpt...

...Claudia knew the truth. She’d always sensed it, but now she knew for certain. “You were in our bedroom when Jason Paul was still my husband.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Certainly it was true. In his silence, she waited for tears, but they didn’t come. She didn’t have it in her to be upset with them any longer. When she pictured Mark and her husband in bed together, the image made her tingle. “You made love to him in our bed, didn’t you?” One man and another man, their bodies writhing together…rough sex…tender kisses…

“When you were away,” Mark admitted. He didn’t stop painting to confess. “You visited your mother the summer Jason Paul and I first met. We lived in your bed that entire week.”

She nodded. Where had her anger gone? She felt none of it. In fact, when she reflected on the two men falling in love and into bed, it seemed romantic. She had the choice to play a bit part in their love story, or to play the evil witch. Why had she chosen the latter? Why had she made their love more difficult than it had to be? Simple enough, she thought. Jason Paul was her husband. Of course she felt possessive of him—she was in love with him, too!

Was it possible to love selflessly, she wondered? One could love one’s children and one’s parents without ego interference. Yes, it was very possible to love two people at once. But being in love was different. In love, she’d been jealous and controlling. It didn’t seem like too much to ask, at the time, that her husband not sleep with other people. Love was such a crazy animal. Uncontrollable.

“I had a feeling you did,” she said. “Something about the sheets. They seemed more tousled than usual.”

“We washed them.”

“Even so.”

“We had sex up against the washing machine,” he reflected.

The early days of any affair were always halcyon. Mark shook his head, staring at the wall. “Sorry. I’m sure you didn’t need to know that.”

“I don’t mind.” Claudia actually smiled when she pictured them together. And then she surprised herself by saying, “Tell me about it...”

Now for the buy link! Click here to check it out:

Friday, February 18, 2011

SHE is the Cat's Mother: Idiomatic Talk for Writers and Readers

I have very vague recollections of my great-grandmother saying "She is the cat's mother" and of having absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

Of course, I would have been very young at the time, and not particularly adept at parsing idiomatic English, so it took an explanation from my grandma to clarify. The axiom "She is the cat's mother" was my great-grandmother's way of saying that it's rude to refer to a person as she. She is the cat's mother; humans ought to be referred to by name, as Jane, or Mrs. Macintosh, or Grandma.

My grandmother on the other side of the family had a favourite saying, too: "Quand le chat est parti, les souris dansent." I was an adult before I ever realized there was an English equivalent to that saying, and that it actually rhymed: "When the cat's away, the mice will play." I suppose it was grand-mère's way of telling us she didn't trust us kids for a second, unsupervised.

I had a grandfather who said, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth" each time he tried to give us kids money we wouldn't accept. Apparently, when checking on a horse's health, one looks at its teeth. If you're buying a horse, by all means check out those teeth, but if you're given a horse for free it's rude to analyze the gift.

Keeping with this animal theme, my girlfriend often spouts a saying of her grandmother's: "Hay is for horses." Want to guess what that's in response to? "Hey, guess what?" And I say that a lot...which means I hear that saying, "Hay is for horses," just as often.

Maybe these sayings, proverbs, axioms, whatever you'd like to call them, stand out in my mind because I didn't understand them on first hearing. They're cute, and every one unique, in my mind, to the speaker.

Idiomatic speech might not be so particular as outdated axioms, but we all have turns of phrase we favour and others we rarely use. If there's one mistake many writers make in scripting dialogue, I would say it's overuse of a common lexicon across all characters. It's an incredibly easy trap to fall into: this is the way I talk, so this is the way all my characters will talk.

We may not notice that each of our characters says, "You're barking up the wrong tree," or "She's got an axe to grind," or "Mum's the word," but readers will. This is particularly obvious when characters across various generations or social groups use the same turns of phrase.

My grandmother would never say, "That sucks," but I would, whereas my friend Jamie would say, "Bad news bears!" If I step on somebody's toes, the first word out of my mouth is, "Désolée!" whereas you might say, "I'm sorry," and your character who's having a rotten day might say, "Outta my way, jackass!"

Another important detail for us writers to watch is our use of idiomatic language within the narrative as compared to dialogue. If we're writing in deep third, for instance, and we tend to use our POV character's turns of phrase within the narrative, it's very obvious when those exact same turns of phrase show up the dialogue. We don't want for my great-grandmother Martha to say, "My God! She's beautiful! Who is she?" and Billy Joe Bob at the diner to reply...oh, for example... "SHE is the cat's mother."

Long story short: we all use varied turns of phrase and so should our characters.

As a parting shot (like all my idiomatic language today?) I'll ask questions to both the writers and the readers who have stuck it out through all this "writing" talk:

Writers, do you find there are certain idioms, sayings, or turns of phrase you can't get away from in dialogue? How aware are you of differentiation of lexicon between characters?

Readers, did the stories about my grandparents' favourite sayings bring any lost proverbs to mind? Do you remember your parents or grandparents overusing certain turns of phrase? And do you ever catch yourself saying them now and think, "Ach! I'm becoming my mother!"

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Is My Girlfriend A Sex Dream Psychic?

I'm convinced my girlfriend knows when I'm about to cheat on her in my sleep.

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. Sweet knew she'd be working in the city in the morning, so we had plans to go out for a late lunch and then back to my place for..."dessert" as they say.

Now, one thing you should know about me is that I keep very odd hours. I don't usually go to bed until 4 in the morning at the earliest, and I'll often sleep until noon. Bad, bad habit, but my body seems to like it.

Of course, my girlfriend knows what I'm like and was smart enough to give me a wake-up call. Here's what she interrupted:

I'm some kind of CSI-type investigator person and I'm working alongside the Spanish dude from Without a Trace (I don't remember his name). We're smooshed into a car as we check out some evidence inside it. Cramped quarters. Bodies pressed tight together, shoulder to shoulder. We're discussing the case but the sexual tension is out of this world. We turn our heads and I know it, I can feel it...we're about to kiss...

Ring ring ring ring ring!

God damn it! The phone was ringing and I had to toss off the covers and stumble to the cordless on my desk and grumble, "Hello?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're awake," she said in that super-sweet voice of hers. It was almost like she knew what she was doing. "Don't forget lunch, okay?"

Hearing Sweet's voice always makes me instantly happy, but I was still a little curious how that dream would play out. So I didn't get up. I went back to bed. I dreamed, but it was a different dream this time:

There's a girl. I don't know who she is, but she's hot: darkish skin, darkish hair, jeans and a black tank top...and massive breasts. She's in my apartment, for some reason, in the kitchen with me and she's talking about her long distance relationship, but I'm so focused on those gorgeous tits that I'm not really paying attention. I cling to her like a koala bear, wrapping my arms around her neck and my legs around her waist. She carries me over to the couch and I nuzzle my face into the curve of her neck. What would she do if I copped a feel? I think she'd be okay with it, but I'm super-nervous. I'm going to do it. I'm going to touch them. I'm just going to run my hand down her chest and...

Ring ring ring ring ring!

Oh, you have got to be kidding me! I fell out of bed, hobbled across the bedroom, and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

"Did you go back to sleep?"


Sweet knows me far too well. "Get up. Get dressed."

So I did. Bed was tempting, but I didn't go back. As I got ready to leave the house, I kept puzzling over the impeccable timing of those two phone calls. I mean, they were spot on. Both times, she called at precisely the moment I was going to start up with somebody that wasn't her. At lunch, I told her the whole story. She claims she had no idea, but I've got to wonder. Can such uncanny timing really be coincidental, or is my girlfriend a secret sex dream psychic?



Sunday, February 13, 2011

PANTIES is the answer! (What was the question?)

I knew you'd ask, so I'll just come right out and tell you that I've abandoned my Bah Humbug attitude toward Valentine's Day. It's just one more excuse to buy Sweet presents, so...yay! Now that I view myself as the provider rather than recipient of romantic gestures, I'm on the V-Day bandwagon, no longer disgrunted, no longer cynical.

So, what did I get Sweet for Valentine's day? Yes, that's right: I got her PANTIES!

And while we're on the topic of V-Day, you'll be glad to know the hottest piece of Valentine's Day erotica out there is now available from your favourite book seller, All Romance ebooks ! "All in a Valentine Day's Work" is the erotic story of Lexi's bisexual trek through an apartment building full of naughty tenants. I can't even begin to tell you how hot this book I'll let the marketing materials do that for me LOL.

Before I hand you over, I just want to say I snuck a peek at this ebook and--visually--it is truly gorgeous. What a lovely job Shadowfire Press has done with it!

And now, without further ado,

All in a Valentine Day's Work by Giselle Renarde

A 'Be My Naughty Valentine' themed story

Genre: erotic bisexual Valentine themed story

Warnings: contains both m/f, f/f and menage/voyeurism

Heat Rating: Fire

All Romance ebook:

Shadowfire Press?


Take one sexy building super and add lots of naughty tenants.

I'm here to fix your plumbing....

Lexi the Sexi building superintendent (okay, assistant super) thinks she's taking Valentine's Day by storm. She doesn't do ‘romance' or ‘relationships.' Casual sex with attractive tenants is more her style. After an exhausting porn-watching session with a cute guy in the building, the beautiful Mrs. Suraj won't release her until those rusty pipes are fixed. The sexy super comes home to a pussycat pair of college friends desperate for someone to help them out with their Valentine's Day gift to each other: homemade porn! For Lexi, gettin' it on is all in a Valentine Day's work!


"Today is Saint Valentine's Day," she said. Her tone of voice was sweet almost to the point of being patronizing, like a school teacher.

"Yeah...." I couldn't stop staring at her neck. It was so long. And it met up seamlessly with her jaw line. Her contours flowed like silk. This Mrs. Suraj was a woman of incredible, indescribable beauty. "Oh," I said, snapping back into reality. "Valentine's, yeah it is."

Taking my hand between her soft palms, she asked, "Do you have a Valentine?"

I held my breath. I didn't want to hate her, but that question made me grit my teeth every time. "No," I said. No, I didn't have a goddamn Valentine to waste my money on. What a stupid holiday....

Sunita must have sensed my hostility. She changed gears. "When I was growing up in India, nobody had heard of Saint Valentine's Day. Now, you go to India and it is a big thing for the young people there. They love this idea of celebrating love and romance. It's like rock-and-roll was. It's a rebellion. It's good for them, I think."

"Oh," I said. I wasn't sure why she was telling me any of this, but I suddenly felt badly for snapping at her. It was undeserved.

Changing gears yet again, she went on to say, "My husband and I married for business reasons, not for love. It was more of a corporate merger than a marriage. From our second bedroom, he runs a textile business. From this bedroom..."

"Let me guess," I interrupted, looking around at the rolls of fabric strewn about the room and the sewing machine in the corner. Not to mention her trendy threads. "You're a fashion designer?"

She giggled. Her voice was like music. "I make some clothing, yes, but costumes mainly. Both our businesses are becoming highly successful. I have contracts with a major theatre company and a few smaller film productions."

Noticing the bed was draped in layers of fabrics, I said, "If this is your bedroom, where do you sleep?"

"There is a bed somewhere underneath this mess," she said, sorting through fabric. "I sleep in here and my husband sleeps on the couch in his office. That is my problem." Sunita must have noticed me eyeing the door, because she shifted to block the exit. Okay, that was a little weird.

I started to ramble, "If you moved your office into the dining room, you and your husband wouldn't have to contend with all this fabric at the end of the day. Your bedroom should be your sanctuary. When you enter it, you should forget all the problems of the outside world."

"Even so," she said. "My husband has no time for me. And even if he had time, he would still have no idea how to please a woman." She took a step toward me. "He has no clue how to give me pleasure."

Gazing at Sunita's long black hair, her glowing cinnamon skin, and her delicate features, I admit I was tempted. And who could blame me? Her blouse was tight, and buttoned almost all the way to the neck. From her perfectly proportioned hips flowed a long skirt. I was drooling to see what was underneath.

"I'm not exactly sure why I'm here," I lied, trying to appear puzzled.

"I've seen you around the building and, forgive me if I'm wrong, but judging from the clothes you wear and your short-short hair, I thought you might..." She was searching for the right words, I guess. " might have some experience in pleasuring women?"

I gasped. I tried not to. It seemed really nerdy to react so obviously, but I couldn't help it. True, my tank top and cargo pants were a far cry from the smart outfits most city girls wore, but I always hated it when people pigeonholed me based on my clothes or the fact that I fixed things for a living.

When Sunita brushed my bare arm with her fingers, all bets were off. Man Alive, she looked at me so seductively I had to let it go. I wanted her. I couldn't resist. "But your husband's in the next room..." I stammered. Not that I cared all that much, it just seemed a little rude to cheat on him on Valentine's Day. Or any other day, I guess.

"Oh, he's working," she said with a shrug. "Nothing can distract him from his business. Trust me." I had to be dreaming! No way this was really happening.

Click the link to buy from:

All Romance ebook:

Shadowfire Press:

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Friday, February 11, 2011

NEW RELEASE: Expanded Definitions by Giselle Renarde

This one's a first--and for someone who's written well over a hundred short stories, there aren't many firsts left. You know I've got a lot of work on the market involving transgender characters, right? Well, I realized some time ago that I was always writing about trans women...most likely because I've got one firmly lodged in my...umm...let's say life. ;-)

Even though Sweet and I both have friends and acquaintances who are female-to-male transsexual, I had never written any stories involving FTM characters. Just never got around to it...until now!

Just in time for Valentine's Day, loveyoudivine Alterotica brings you my new, totally romantic, really sweet (but also graphic and explicitly sexual--this is me, after all!) EXPANDED DEFINITIONS.

When Patrick claims he's satisfied by nothing more than giving a woman pleasure, Alison doesn't believe him. She's convinced men are never contented until they've 'shoved their cocks down my throat, or up my ass or…I don't know…into an electrical socket.' Can Patrick the true romantic expand Alison's definition of sex, or will his secret former life scare her away for good?


“The trick,” Patrick told me, “is to find someone who complements you.”

My throat produced that familiar noise that sounds something like a giggle, but only comes about when you’re trying not to cry. “Yes, you really don’t compliment me often enough. I’ll feel much better if you tell me I’m pretty.”

“Of course you’re pretty, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” The off-handed compliment made my heart soar. “What I mean is that if you look for someone who’s identical to you, there are too many sames.” To illustrate his point, he withdrew his fingers from mine, only to press his fingertips against my fingertips so they exerted some pressure. “When someone’s the same as you, all the sticky-outy parts meet up and you deflect each other. You see what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” I sniffled. It suddenly occurred to me that this might be a break-up conversation, which I don’t think I could have handled on a first date.

“But when you meet a person who complements you—and I don’t mean this in a sexual sense—all the sticky-outy parts on you correspond to all the curvy-inny parts on them.” Patrick brushed his fingertips down a touch until his were between mine. Our fingers no longer deflected one another. Now, they snuggled in, fingers woven between fingers, until we were holding hands again. “You see? When people complement each other, they fit together so easily.”

Was he talking about us? I didn’t want to ask; it was too early on. Instead, I sat perfectly still, gazing down at our interwoven fingers as though they might open to reveal a crystal ball. Was that my future cradled in the sweating palms of our hands? I had my doubts, but I could so easily be swayed.

It's available for purchase now from All Romance ebooks, and in a couple days I'm sure it'll be up at Amazon and a bunch of other retailers, too. Best of all, it's only $2.00 at ARe, so Buy Now!

Big Hugs,
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Dance Me To The World's Sexiest Music

With Valentine's Day on the way, I've got sexy music on the brain.

When I asked myself, "What's the sexiest song ever?" it was first an artist who came to mind. It was Leonard Cohen. I've been half in love with Leonard Cohen for years now, and when I tried to narrow down which among his many songs is itself the sexiest...well, the first one that came to mind was Dance Me To The End of Love...but then I realized that was only because it had the word "Love" in the title.

"I'm Your Man" THAT'S a sexy song! Strangely, I always envision it as a lesbian song. I guess that's because if I were ever to take part in a drag king performance, I would absolutely wear a suit and a fedora and sing this number to all the lovely ladies in the crowd. Though, upon reflection, it's not only the lyrics but the trotting sort of cowboy beat that makes "I'm Your Man" irresistibly sexy.

The next number on the Leonard Cohen songlist that jumped out as sexy was "Who by Fire." Again, it's about the beat, the lyrics (which are, yes, more melancholy than explicitly erotic, but maybe that's what makes them so sexy), and the overall intriguing feel of the piece. Here it is performed by another fine poet, Buck 65 (I love him to death, I really do) and Jenn Grant:

My final pick is one Leonard Cohen referred to on tour as a prayer, and I certainly hear that quality in "If It Be Your Will" but I also hear it as a love song every time I listen to it. Why? Because the ultimate act of love is the sacrifice of personal will do the other. I guess that sounds a little more submissive than I usually come across, but maybe conscientious submission is the ultimate act of love.

I've chosen this video of the Webb sisters on tour with Leonard Cohen not only because it's a gorgeous rendition, but because I attended this very performance at the Sony Centre. Happy memories.

Your turn: what songs do you consider sexy? Is it music that would have other people looking at you askance and asking, "What's so sexy about that?" (as I'm sure you're doing right now as you listen to my picks) or are you all about the old fashioned love songs? And, if so, which ones?

Tell All! It's beginning to look a lot like V-Day!

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Happy Birthday Untreed Reads! Freebies and Discounts All Month!

February is a big month for my mainstream publisher, Untreed Reads. It's their birthday! To celebrate, they're giving 25% off their titles at most vendors. If you're looking to buy my lesbian eating disorder story UGLY NAKED PEOPLE, now's the time! Discounts are available from:

The Untreed Reads Store
The Sony Reader Store
CoffeeTimeRomance (formerly 1RomanceEbook)

And if you're looking for something for nothing, Untreed Reads has got you covered! The following retailers will be offering the free downloads of
How to Eat Fruit by Anne Brooke, The Zagzagel Diaries: Forsaken by Bryl R. Tyne and Roads Through Amelia: The Beast and the Forgotten Tribesman by Joshua Calkins-Treworgy (where these titles appear in their catalog):

The Untreed Reads Store

Happy Birthday Untreed Reads!
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Sugar and Spice: A Collection of Kinky Girl-on-Girl Stories

...and of course I'm going to recommend it because my opera glove fetish story "No Love, No Glove" appears in it!

Sugar and Spice: A Collection of Kinky Girl-on-Girl Stories
By: Mira Paul
Published By: Ravenous Romance
Published: Feb 03, 2011
ISBN # 9781607773863
Word Count: 42,000
Heat Index

Sugar and spice and everything nice...that's what you'll find in this smoking hot collection of kinky lesbian stories! Discover what can happen when the chemistry between two sexy women ignites...and they explore their playful sides!

Spanking, bondage, blindfolds - it's all here in this wildly entertaining - and titillating - collection! Find yourself on your knees serving dinner and sexual delights to a loving Mistress. Or maybe you're dressed in your power suit and heels, waiting for your eager secretary to bring you your morning éclair. Delve into a community of women who claim their desires proudly and unabashedly mixed romance and kinky eroticism into their everyday lives. These juicy characters replace the mundane with sugar and spice, and will show you one hundred and one new ways to transform pain into delicious pleasure.


Elizabeth Thorne

Louisa Bacio

J.V. Altharas

Dorla Moorehouse


Xan West

Scarlet Page

Maggie Morton

Angel Propps

Giselle Renarde

Thomma Finland

Nothing Like The Sun
by Elizabeth Thorne

Mara took Friday afternoon off from work and spent hours preparing her Sabbath dinner. She was experimenting with a new recipe and enjoyed having the opportunity to concentrate so completely on the task. The abundance of time she had spilling out before her allowed braiding the special six-stranded challah to become a form of moving meditation. Shaping the bread made her feel so free and focused that, while it was undergoing its final rising cycle, she went down to her craft room, drew six lengths of crimson leather from her stash of supplies, and wove them into a matching whip.

Later, when setting the table for the night, Mara curled her beautiful braided creation around the Sabbath candles to highlight the matching intricacies in the structure of the bread. Then she pulled the Moroccan chicken casserole from the oven to rest and went into the bedroom to clean herself up before her Mistress’s arrival.

As was her wont, Michelle called when she was a few minutes away, letting the phone ring twice, then hanging up before Mara could answer. When Mara heard their private signal, she finished brushing her hair, hung the damp robe from her shower on the back of the bathroom door, and fetched her collar from its place of honor beside the bed. Taking one last look at the Sabbath table to make certain nothing was out of place, she unlocked the front door and knelt before it, naked and head bowed, to wait for Michelle to arrive.

No matter how many times she had waited for her Mistress like this on the Sabbath, Mara still found it exciting. There was something oddly empowering about preparing their home and her body to welcome the woman she loved. It made her feel strong to be comfortable enough to kneel there wearing only her skin, and it made her feel beautiful every time Michelle asked her to do so. The heat in Michelle’s eyes when she looked on her slave’s naked body had helped Mara to finally begin to love herself as much as she still was amazed that her Mistress did.
Mara had been in place for only a few seconds when she heard her Mistress’s steps on the front porch, but thoughts of Michelle’s arrival had already warmed her body with lust. Waiting for her Mistress on her knees always felt like a promise of things to come.

Want More? Buy it from All Romance ebooks or from Amazon!
Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Monday, February 7, 2011

Quick Six TNG with K.I.L. Kenny

Which excellent editor of such anthologies as Taken, a BBA Menage Anthology, Bite Me, and I Put a Spell on You also happens to be an awesome author? Why, that would be today's guest, K.I.L Kenny!

1. What does "vanilla" mean to you?

A: My favorite ice cream flavor. ;)

2. Is there any moment from your life that you remember in slow motion?

A: Mm, no. I can remember a few moments that seemed to *occur* in slow
motion (usually negative moments, alas), and afterward, the memories are
usually of a single expression or verbal exchange.

3. What's the most unsettling movie you've ever seen?

A: It's a toss-up between "Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" (the REAL
version, which I saw new in the theater when I was six) for the
worms-on-the-face tunnel scene, and "The Brain That Wouldn't Die," one of
those schlocky B-movies that used to show up on Sunday afternoon TV in the
late '60s and early '70s. Hey, when you're four or five, even bad special
effects are convincing!

4. If you had to get a tattoo on your face, what would you want it to look

A: Probably some really cool eyebrows. The natural ones drive me crazy. ;)

5. How many monkeys jumping on the bed?

A. Five, of course. I always prefer those moments before the attrition

6. Which of the books or stories you've written is your favourite?

I don't have a favorite "child," really, but I think the one that has been
most successful in coming across the way I meant is my most recent, the
Everyday Spectre "Splash." Here's the blurb:

Alex wants to spend one more season on the family farm before he's forced to
sell the property and move on. What was supposed to be a reflective time is
turned delightfully upside down by Jordan, the beautiful, laughing spirit
Alex finds living in the cow pond. Needless to say, a pond is not Jordan's
usual hangout, and as the autumn wears on, it's clear that Alex will have to
find a way to get Jordan home before the first New England freeze. But if he
succeeds, what will be left for Alex?


Buying link:

K.I.L. Kenny

Saturday, February 5, 2011

NEW RELEASE: Gigglepuss by Giselle Renarde

I know every new release is my new favourite, but Gigglepuss is my absolute new favourite for reals! (Until the next one, of course. LOL) And the cover! Love it, love it, love it!

Gigglepuss is an erotic lesbian short story from Xcite ebooks and...oh boy, it's hot! Even my editor kept telling me how much she enjoyed this one. I take editor compliments as high praise, because they read so damn many stories and don't usually express opinions about them.

Anyhoo, enough of my blabbing. Here's the blurb and excerpt. Trust me, this one is well worth the $1.49 you'll pay for it at ARe. It's pretty rockin'.

An erotic story with lesbian and femdom themes by Giselle Renarde

After working in the same restaurant for four years, Lorna develops a sudden and explosive crush on quirky Mitsuki. Though Mitsuki doesn't seem to oppose Lorna's advances, every time Lorna tries to kiss the girl, Mitsuki giggles. For a cocky dyke like Lorna, giggles are insulting ... almost infuriating! A sacrilege! Can Lorna quell the giggles, or will she join in?


I kissed her on Tuesday, and she giggled.

I kissed her on Wednesday, and she giggled.

Thursday I vowed not to take another chance. I wasn’t used to being laughed at. Other girls didn’t titter when I pulled them close, took their soft cheeks firmly between my palms and pressed their luscious lips to mine. Other girls understood the seriousness of my intent. But other girls were not Mitsuki.

My ego was battered and bruised, but I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t resist those pink lips gleaming like liquid glass under a thick layer of gloss. I couldn’t resist those hazel eyes, which sparkled even more brilliantly than her lips. She reminded me of a Japanese anime schoolgirl, the way she flirted and teased with nothing but the bat of an eyelash. But Mitsuki was real. She was flesh and blood – warm flesh and cold blood, it seemed to me, because I kissed her again on Thursday, and she giggled.

I left work in a hidden fury that night. I didn’t want her to see how exasperating I found her, or the restaurant, or this situation, or anything. Cool as a cucumber – that’s Lorna. Ask any of the closet bi babes in this godforsaken boonie-ville and they’ll tell you the very same: Lorna never loses it. Lorna’s always in control. The guys around here are scared of me – they cross to the other side of the road when I’m marching down the sidewalk – but the women? Oh, they’re a different story altogether.

Women love me. They just don’t know it until I tell them. And, actually, it’s less a telling than a showing. I catch some gorgeous marriage-laden MILF or some barely-legal pretty checking me out, and I hold their gazes. I don’t let go. They’re spellbound. I know when I’ve got them mesmerised. I know they’d follow me to the ends of the Earth and, when we arrived there, they’d let me do whatever I damn well desired.

Well, I don’t usually trail them along quite that far, but it’s never been too hard to force-feed that look that says, ‘Follow me’. Up they get, excusing themselves from their friends or family or date-night with the hubby. ‘Just going to powder my nose,’ they say, because the women in this goddamn town never stray beyond euphemism. These are girly girls, even the grown women. They don’t piss; they powder.

Though they don’t piss or powder once I’ve made eye contact. They walk right past the restrooms, straight down the hall to my filthy post-war industrial kitchen. If it’s summer weather, I pull them out into the alleyway and press their backs to the brick wall. The garbage cans are right there, but I’ve never heard one of them complain about the smell. They’re already too intoxicated by the spell they’ve let me cast, and they go limp in my arms. They don’t put up a fight. They don’t chatter or gab, and they definitely don’t giggle. I kiss them and they take it. They might sigh or gasp – in fact, they usually do – but I’ve never heard a single one of them laugh.

If it’s spring, when a young woman’s fancy turns to thoughts of lust and her wardrobe turns to breezy little dresses, I might just hike up the girl’s skirt and let her pussy ride my palm. Otherwise, I’ll just launch my hands up her top and thumb her tits through her bra. If one of those nipples escapes, so much the better – I’ll squeeze it between my thumb and forefinger until she’s weak at the knees.

For less than the price of a coffee, Gigglepuss is absolutely worth a look. Buy it now at All Romance ebooks. Coming Soon to other vendors.

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Friday, February 4, 2011

The Importance of Being Erotic

Today I've been thinking about the importance! Authors of erotic fiction. Why do we do this? Is it important? Or is it fluff?

Here's a question for authors and readers: Do you think erotica plays an important role in society?

I vote yes. Erotica is an affirming force.

It isn't as common as it used to be for people who fall outside the accepted "norms" of cisgender vanilla heterosexual to think, "My god! I'm the only person on the planet like this!" What do we have to thank for queer empowerment? In part, porn! The internet! Erotica! Artists! Ourselves!

When we read about different sexual practices or pairings, our desires may well be affirmed in fiction. I might read a story about a lesbian in love with a trans woman and feel elated in knowing I'm not the only one. There are others like me. Because my girlfriend Sweet was raised in a different generation, she grew up thinking she was the only boy in the world who liked wearing girl clothes and playing with "girl toys" and who, all in all, wanted to be a girl. It was in fiction that she found her identity.

But literary fiction only gets us part way there. Reading literary fiction and watching characters get together and get close, I always used to wonder (and still do)...what next? Okay, they're getting it on, but how? What exactly are they doing?

When we see our own sexual practices or sexual practices we've always dreamed of in print, there is a moment of, "Yes!" We feel recognized, acknowledged, and affirmed. It's a confirmation that we are not alone in our world of desires. There are others like us. I think that's important.

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Just Call Me Giselle Renarde-Simpson

I didn't call my blog Donuts & Desires solely as a tribute to the pastries at Tim Hortons--although, yes, that was a huge consideration. I also happen to be a big fan of The Simpsons, so the "Donuts" in D&D is in part a tip of the hat to Homer at al.

When I discovered you can make your own Simpsons avatar at I thought WOWEE! I want me one of those! I think the program is a little funky with my Mac, but here I am rockin' a fine pink donut T-shirt with my good pal Homer and assorted lovable creeps.

Just call me Giselle Renarde-Simpson!
By the way, I know I look wasted, but that's actually my sexy look. I am totally coming on to you!