My fiction up at ERWA May/June in the Galleries

Find three stories of mine and two pieces of flash fiction in the story Galleries.

Enjoy.

xxoo!

from Valentine Bonnaire

Doing a reading of "Gardenias" for you. #sexy fiction my book of short stories...

You know you want this book.  You do.  Here is a partial reading from the first short story of mine.  The book is called "Gardenias" because of this story...

xxoo!
Enjoy....

(hopes my voice sounded okay!)

I'm amazingly better on the page.  I love English accents, wish I had one.  *Sigh*

Classic Literary Erotica what is it?

It's scandalous!

Writers like Pauline Reage and Anais Nin wrote it.

Who reads it?

Literary people.

Like you.

Here is a story of mine that is after these two, in a sense.  It should curl your toes.

If a writer intends to curls your toes, they can.

"Les Rubans"

Two new stories up of mine! xxoo! #Literary #Erotica

I have two pieces running at ERWA this month.  Both of them are very strong stories told from the feminine.

You can read them in the galleries at these links...

"Have A Nice Day."

It's a story about mothers-in-law and the havoc they can cause for young lovers.  In this case it's a story of Zombies, and how zombies happen...

I wasn’t going to let her kill me.  I wasn’t going to let them kill me.  The whole crushing force of the women who had come before me, who had lived before my time with him.  She sat like a matriarch on a throne wagging jeweled fingers on her dead hands while she attempted to orchestrate our future.  My mother-in-law.

She’d already killed him.  The man who was going to be my husband.

I had the evidence.  My poor, poor Charles.

“Make us a cuppa, will you love?”  She only pretended to be crooning.

I never could stand the way he jumped to attention when she issued a command.  Even now she was still issuing them.  From beyond the grave and he couldn’t let go of her.  That year we first met he was making her tea every Sunday.  She hated me.  Because I was alive.  Looking back I think she added something to her tinctures.  Datura leaves.  The poisonous flowers hung like fairy lanterns all around the garden next to her oleanders.  I never could trust her.

There is a very romantic part to this story in terms of "the erotic" so please go and have a read!

The second story is "l'heure bleue."

That's a ghost story.  What happens when we think back to other lovers?  It's not as if women ever forget, is it?  In the story my character Sophia (which means knowledge) is haunted by an old, old ghost that she has seen in the web.  It's the middle of the night and Sophia can't sleep.

“I was able to love,” she wrote, after seeing him on the screen.  “Again.” 

The moon hung like a tiny lantern surrounded by night clouds drifting in a rushing wind.  Nothing was clear anymore, about the sky or the stars or the planes flying about and what they might be.  She stood for a long time in the cold and brittle light of almost total darkness looking up into the heavens.  The pages of her journal fluttered on the desk, before she tore them out completely and crumpled them in her fist.

“Come to bed, Sophia.”

Brace called her back from her depths, his voice stronger than her darkness, stronger than the cold of the clouds and the night sky filled with uncertain stars.

“I’m waiting.”

“It’s so cold out,” she said.

“I’m warm.”

Her hands were icy as she slid them across his chest.  “Brrrrr,” he laughed.  “You’re freezing.”

He smiled as he pulled her toward him, in the way that husbands smile, that’s different than the way a lover smiles.

“Am I?”

“Take off your clothes and come to bed.  It’s late”

“You’re always right Brace, aren’t you?”

“Do you think so?”

“You’re always very sure of everything.”

“I am what I am.”

“I suppose we all are.”

“Come to bed.”

His arms were warm as they tucked themselves around her, pulling her in against him, but her mind had shifted elsewhere on some kind of different plane.  Brace rolled his back to her.  “Go to sleep.”

But Sophia couldn’t sleep.  Not anymore, not after hearing that voice, and seeing the photograph.  She and Brace never talked about the past or the other people they had been with.  What would have been the point?

In the warmth of the bed, against Brace’s back, in the heat of the blankets—her mind kept drifting backwards.

To read the rest, visit the site at the links above.  Literary Erotica for adults.

xxoo!

Valentine

ps: I write heterosexual Literary Erotica.

pss: I'm very excited to be published in a book that you can purchase here... look for my short story called "Flowering" -- there are so many fine stories in the book.  By the absolute tops in the genre.  Savor these reads about sex and the human heart...

You're heterosexual aren't you? I am.

You are looking to read something sexy.

You like sexy, and that is how you found me.

I write for men.

You're my audience.

You always have been.

Here is the first piece of me.

I never write anything that isn't a true story.

Transport yourself.

It's Friday.

xxoo!
Valentine

Velvet Babe's "Little Miracles" ~ flash fiction xxoo!

Just in time for Saint Paddy! xxoo!

Velvet’s “Little Miracles”

by Valentine Bonnaire c. March 2013 valentine@valentinebonnaire.com


The Velvet Babe looked skyward.  Saint Patrick and Oz were smiling at her, those rogues.

She pouted at Oz, and crossed her arms.

“Mr. Swankypants forgot those flowers didn’t he?”

Velvet nodded wistfully.

*Poof!*

A great green cloud of smoke and stardust enveloped the Babe. She waved her arms to clear the smoke and saw her outfit.  It couldn’t have been sexier.  Little green bows and the tiniest straps, green heels made of the finest suede from Spain, thigh highs with tricky garters.  She looked like she was wearing all the Frenchiest green ever, with continental overtones.

“Well, Darlin,” Saint Paddy said...

“What be your wish?” smiled Oz.

“Five orgasms in rapid succession.  That will take my mind off all the bad news.”

*Poof!*

The “Ye Olde Leprechaun” where Oz beamed the Babe was afire with spirit.

Swankypants was the last thing on her mind once she saw Pan the flautist dressed as Peter himself.  He had one all right.  Those tights were a dead giveaway. 

“In his lap, Velvet,” Oz commanded.

“A perfect fit if ever there was one,” cried Paddy.

’Twas better than the pot of gold, as Velvet smiled down a million rainbows, crimson in the clover.


* * *

Vanilla Erotica ~ my story Flowering in a new anthology...

I'm very happy to announce that one of my short stories "Flowering" will be appearing in this anthology by Constable and Robinson, edited by Maxim Jakubowski. 

It's going to be out in April in London and in June in the United States.  I'm incredibly excited about this as you can imagine.

I've been very careful to only be published by the best.  To be in this book with my editors makes me beside myself.  I hope that doesn't sound too gushy.

If you knew?

This particular publisher?

Well. 

This publisher also published Jean Rhys, Theodore Dreiser, Herman Melville, Henry James and...

To have a story be in with that league?

I attend the Santa Barbara Writers Conference.

If you were to take a look at the league of writers who passed through there?

Oh, my.  When I go back in June I'm going to have a copy of the book in my hands to show them.  It's very hard to believe in a way?  It is.  The man who founded the Conference wrote this book:

I only wish Mr. Conrad were still alive.  I would have loved to have shown him where "Flowering" ended up.  I know he would have approved.

xxoo!

Valentine Bonnaire

What is "Vanilla" Literary Erotica?

There is a term I came across when I began to write Erotica.  "Vanilla" -- many people scoff at that term?  But the reality is that most people are "vanilla."

Anybody who isn't writing about things like whips and chains?

That's "Vanilla."

Is Erotica the same as a Romance Novel?

No!

The Erotica genre spans many types of things.

What I write is the way that heterosexuals make love.  I'm interested in exploring what happens between the characters in my books and all the sex scenes I write are "human."

Is it more taboo to write "Vanilla" sex?

Maybe.

Two of my favorite writers, D. H. Lawrence and James Joyce both wrote erotic novels.  Heterosexual novels.  They are considered classics, and at times they were banned.

These two books would be considered "Vanilla" Erotica. 

You will not find sex toys in my stories.  My stories are only about humans and how they touch each other. 

One of the reasons I'm writing in this genre is because these two writers are part of the canon I admire.

You will find my own short stories archived at The Erotica Readers and Writers Association in the web.
Today there was an article I spied in the Library Journal, which mentions the place I'm published above. 
Most of the literary writers I know?  Want to be archived in libraries next door to Lawrence and Joyce.

xxoo!

Valentine Bonnaire
valentinebonnaire.com

What does Erotica sound like?

One of the most erotic films I've ever seen is "The English Patient."  The love scenes in that film "flare" on the page.  Even in the trailer you get a sense of that fire.

Many many people are too literary to watch pornography.  I don't because there is no appeal in it for me?

I'd rather read something beautifully written and allow my own head to make the pictures for me.  That is what Literary Erotica is all about.

Quality.

Because the people who are writing that can also write poetry.

The man who wrote the film "The English Patient."  Listen to this poem in youtube: The Cinnamon Peeler's Wife."  This is exquisite erotica.

Beautiful.

xxoo!

Valentine Bonnaire

I just made a new author website for myself -- last night.  It should be up in a day or two?

Pretty exciting!

See what you think?

Heterotica ~ a definition

Heterotica is Literary Erotica for heterosexuals.  It's not clear when heterosexual got a bad name to me?  Anyway -- I write heterosexual erotica. 

As a writer I grew up on Erotica writers like D. H. Lawrence and Anais Nin.

Last night I spent some time in Wordnik defining what that is and actually making a term for Heterotica.  I believe as a writer you have to write what you know?

And I do.

The noms de plume I have used in this genre are Adrianna de la Rosa -- you can find my stories archived at Cleansheets.com and Valentine Bonnaire -- at both Cleansheets and The Erotica Readers and Writers Association.

So, what does heterosexual mean?  It means you like the opposite sex.  I'm a woman and I like men as sexual partners.  The same works vice-versa.  Men who like women like me.

You will not find pornographic images in my blog.  When you see art it will be classical like this image of Chagall's -- "The Lovers."  

Marc Chagall's "Lovers" 1956