Take it away Mina!
***
A hunk from the past
First of all, many thanks Maggie, for letting me hijack your blog today and happy holidays to you all!
Christmas time always reminds me of my gran. She passed away just before Christmas ten years ago. While it still makes me sad to think that she is no longer with me I also have wonderful memories of her, which make me smile every time I think of her.
My gran was the coolest grandmother in the world (okay, I admit I'm biased, but I swear it's true!) and a wonderful storyteller. I used to hang on her every word when she told me her memories. We used to sit in her workshop – she was an artist – and she would draw or paint and talk at the same time. She always wore men's pants and shirts, sleeves rolled up to her elbows to give her room to work, her beautiful, thick gray hair held back with a colorful bandana. There were usually paint smudges on her clothes and her face, but somehow she still managed to look like a true lady. I guess it was her bearing more than anything else. She was petite, with dark hair and brown eyes and an easy grace that came natural to the women of her generation. She used to say with pride that there was gypsy blood somewhere in her ancestry and I'm inclined to believe her.
Judging from her stories, she must have been quite a hottie in her time – and I suspect I only ever got the edited version of her memories. She used to tell me of her travels all over Europe and the people she met. She spoke French and German fluently and had a smattering of Italian and Polish. One of her best friends was a Polish writer and she had some drawings of him in her workshop. They were mostly pencil sketches of him working at a typewriter, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He was handsome, with dark, slightly ruffled hair and a wide, generous mouth. I remember that, as a romantically inclined teenager, I used to wish I would one day meet a man like him – tall, handsome and broodingly intellectual (come to think of it – that still is my type…).
Of course, as a teenager I never got to see the best picture of the lot. Gran must have kept it hidden from my innocent eyes, and I only discovered it by accident, many years later, when I was helping her sort through some older works she wanted to sell. It was an unfinished oil painting – some of the background was missing – but it was still gorgeous. I instantly recognized the Polish writer from the sketches. In this painting, he was naked, leaning back against the railing of what looked like a French window, his head thrown back with the sunlight full on his face. He was also sporting the most impressive erection I have ever seen outside of porn. When I finally managed to look away from him and over at my octogenarian grandmother, the smile playing around her lips said it all.
So, now you see why I think my gran was the coolest grandmother in the world. She always told me that a woman should live her dreams and that is basically what I'm doing at the moment: I am living the dream of seeing my stories published. My only regret is that my gran didn't live long enough to see me achieve my dream. I'm pretty sure she would have enjoyed reading my stories just as much as I enjoyed hearing hers.
To give you an impression of what kind of story I'm talking about, here's an excerpt from my most recent novella The Accidental Sub. It's available from Total-E-Bound in the Subspace Anthology – with a host of other hot stories – and it will come out as a stand-alone novella on 2 January. Here you go:
One minute to go. She checked her makeup in her pocket mirror, then had to readjust her top again. Thirty seconds. She peeked out through the glass doors but couldn't see much of the street. At eight o'clock sharp a black Saab convertible pulled to the kerb, just as she stepped out of the building. The roof was closed so she couldn't see the driver but the passenger door was opened for her from the inside and she didn't hesitate to get into the car. He looked even more handsome than she remembered, in black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that fitted his broad, muscular upper body to perfection. His short brown hair was combed back, and a pair of black Ray Bans dangled from the neckline of his T-shirt. He was definitely gorgeous enough to eat, and Catherine had a strong compulsion to lick his body from head to toe.
He said, "Good evening, Catherine." His deep voice went straight to her G-spot and her knees went weak.
She risked another brief glance at him and whispered a shy 'Hello', before turning to fasten her seatbelt. Suppressing the insane urge to throw herself at his feet and beg him to take her right here in the car, she meekly folded her hands in her lap and stared at the floor. He started the engine and pulled away from the kerb. Catherine didn't dare ask him where they were going. She felt completely at his mercy, and a delightful shiver of anticipation ran through her body.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he ordered as they stopped at a traffic light. A feeling of calm spread slowly through Catherine’s whole body. It was such a relief to cede responsibility to him. She wriggled forward in the seat and clasped her wrists behind the small of her back. No longer self-conscious about how she looked, she attuned herself to his wishes, anticipating the pleasure of his touch.
He took one hand off the wheel and reached over to pull her cowl neck down below her waist and expose both breasts. He gave an appreciative ‘Hmm’ when her nipples hardened in the cool evening air. He slipped his hand between her legs, nudging her thighs apart as far as they would go in the short skirt. “I like the outfit,” he commented and slipped one long finger into her, then ran it through her folds to spread the moisture. “Hmm,” he rumbled again. His hand slipped lower and his probing fingers found the butt plug. “Very nice.”
He tapped the end lightly, sending shivers of dark delight up Catherine’s spine. She imagined him taking her from behind, fucking first her pussy and then her arsehole. The vivid mental images made her so wet she was sure she would leave a puddle on the seat.
The light turned green and he took his hand away abruptly to put it back on the steering wheel. Catherine felt strangely bereft without his touch. She clenched her mouth shut around a tiny whimper of frustration.
Want more? Get your copy of Subspace from Total-E-Bound. Did I mention it's totally worth it, because it's an anthology filled with hot stories? Here's the buy link: BUY SUBSPACE HERE
The Accidental Sub is now also available for pre-order: HERE
Mina Dorian's Blog A DARK KIND OF DESIRE can be found here: http://minadorian.blogspot.com/
Or join me for more weird ramblings when I'm Hitting the Hot Spot on the 19th of each month at: http://totalebound.blogspot.com/
4 comments:
I would have loved your grandmother. Mine was every bit a lady. I have some pottery she painted. I was told it was her only job after she graduated from college. Quite the feat back in her day.
Thanks for sharing such a lovely post, Mina. Your grandmother sounds like she was a very special lady. I wish I had that type of relationship with my only living grandma.
Hot excerpt too! ;-)
Oh Mina, your Gran sounds like she was a wonderful free spirit. My memories of my Nanna are a bit dim since she died when I was young, but I do remember she was devoted to my Granddad.
Ash - your grandmother sounds amazing! Graduating from college as a woman back then was quite an achievement!
Nichelle - oh yes, that excerpt is burning up the page!
Hi, Mina,
I wish you could have shared the drawing with us - although with your description I can easily imagine it!
Best of luck with "The Accidental Sub". It sounds pretty hot!
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