Finally! The Perfect Sequel to the Phantom of the Opera - Brought to us by Mitzi Szereto and Ashley Lister!

The Opera ghost really existed. 

He was not, as was long believed, 
a creature of the imagination of the artists, 

the superstition of the managers, or a product

 of the absurd and impressionable brains
 of the young ladies of the ballet, 
their mothers, the box-keepers, 

the cloak-room attendants or the concierge.   

—Gaston Leroux

Circa 1870... “Love has never been blind. Lovers are forgiving, trusting and accepting. But only a witless fool would confuse those generosities with the idea that love is blind.” 

Christine laughed. It was a strangely melodic sound, conveying the richness of her soprano voice. Even though the room was as black as death, her merriment brightened the unlit corners and banished the gloom. For the first time, he realized he would miss her. “You’re not really that cynical, are you?” she asked. 

“I believe in love at first sight,” he replied with a grunt. “But I also believe it is often cured by a second glance.” 

She laughed again. She was a responsive audience for his weak quips; a bright flame to protect him from the darkness; a perpetual balm for the raw and bleeding wound that was his heart. And it pained him that he would have to let her go. 

“You’re just making jokes now,” she cautioned. “You’re having fun at my expense. Take off the mask and show me what you’re hiding under there.”

~~~

Phantom: The Immortal

By Mitzi Szereto

  and Ashley Lister

Let me tell you my credentials for this review... I have attended two live performances of the original Phantom of the Opera in Canada, have thus traveled down into the depths under the

Theatre where The Phantom lives, with the mist growing heavier and thicker the farther we went...and have sat directly

under the chandelier that started falling down, thrilling to the music, the story... Of course, the movie gave even a different perspective. The music haunts my heart... Thinking of the ending saddened me... Thus, I feel I am competent to know the story well enough to judge a worthy sequel to the original... For me, it presented everything I could have asked for...and more...

The more? Well, this story is a wonderful, erotic, tasteful presentation. For the review, I will covered the story since it is, really, the sequel to the original that I truly applaud... For those interested, I've prepared with permission of the authors, a continuation of the music and some excerpts as another posting... For it is the quality of the music in the presentation that makes the story great, don't you think?

Decade after decade, he had sat in his reserved box, living in the music of the operas that played in the theatre... Time had no meaning since Christine had left...why had he told her to go?! He was lost without her...And he waited, living in his secret location below the theatre, with provisions brought in by the latest friend of the one family that had supported him for so many years... How long must he wait?

Szereto and Lister takes us forward to answer The Phantom's question! The theatre staff are busily involved with the next production. This time Faust...

The introduction of Faust as the main opera in the sequel, immediately lends credibility to the sequel as worthy of acceptance. For, surely, without a continuation of the music world, the music of the night could not have continued...

It had not been long before The Phantom spotted the young ingenue who had come to audition for the part of Siebel..

The gossip meant nothing to him. He knew her name and that was enough to give fresh fuel to his hopes. “She won’t be Siebel,” he promised. “I want her to be Marguerite.” He looked away from Giry, admiring Christine’s delicate figure as she effortlessly commanded center stage and sang her way through “Faites-lui mes aveux.” Behind his inscrutable mask, his mind was already plotting ways he could secure Christine’s position as the opera’s heroine. 
~~~

She looks like his Christine...then he learns her name is also Christine! Could it be... Could it be... Christine?

Readers are not quite sure if Christine is the true Christine, reincarnated... But does it matter? This Christine is named Christine Delacroix. She, too, was a soprano and had sung in the Opera of the Phantom...

But an intriguing twist is presented that tightens the connection. She visits a sale of music memorabilia where a packet of letters written by the Christine Daae' from so long ago. Our new Christine is caught with the desire to have them--she had been one of the greatest sopranos of all time, after all. But a gentleman, Rezso, starts bidding against her... She kept bidding, knowing she didn't have the money, hoping he would stop and let her have them...

 
Surely it was fate that she should have Christine Daae's letters... and L'Opera Garnier her destiny!

She was irritated because the two had exchanged meaningful glances and she was upset that it was he who would get her letters. When he later presents them to her as a gift, she was smart enough to wonder what he wanted... But then, again, maybe she might want the same thing... A flirtation builds between these two, creating a similar but quite different conflict in this story...

But thoughts of him would come and then go, for by now she was reading Christine's letters... She hadn't known what they would be about...but she was soon entranced as she read about...them... 

Then, she was primed when she got the part, entered her dressing room to get ready and thought she'd heard him speak...

Although more than a century had passed, his senses could not resist the siren call on hearing that single name. It was a popular appellation—not uncommon among the constant stream of dancers and chorus girls who ebbed and flowed through the opera’s passages—but too many times before, he had been disappointed to find himself staring at an unworthy recipient of that resplendent title. Expecting to be disillusioned once more, promising himself he would never again be lulled by that misplaced hope, he squinted into the shadows from where she approached. She stepped beneath the glow of a naked bulb. “Christine?” he whispered. As never before, time stood still. He had a chance to admire the flawless perfection of her alabaster skin; the sultry sparkle of her deep brown eyes; and the absolute glory of her sleek, slender frame. The familiar fragrance of a Guerlain scent was suddenly so strong he could breathe nothing but its evocative perfume. She was dressed in jeans and a simple T-shirt, its light cotton fabric clinging to the supple curves of her breasts and abdomen. The denim hugged her legs and revealed narrow hips and an embraceable slender waist. For an instant, he wondered if the theater now housed two ghosts. Ready to step forward, not sure what he could say but knowing he needed to break the spell and grasp his destiny, he asked softly, “Christine? Is that you?”

~~~

Surely there are those, beside me, who wanted Christine to stay with the Phantom in The Phantom of the Opera... We knew that his face could never be so bad that we could not become accustomed and loved it as The Phantom should have been loved...

But there we are again, with two men vying for our new Christine in Phantom: The Immortal... I wished for...I wanted Christine to stay with the Phantom. Would she do the "right" think in this book?

Phantom: The Immortal prepares us sensuously and musically for love to be the dominant factor... Only when The Phantom works with Christine to prepare her for her new part as Marguerite... do we begin to see the madness, the obsession of the Phantom to ensure perfection from his Christine...for her to replace the Diva!

And will Christine be able to deal with his madness, especially since she has just met him and can only know him as the rumored opera ghost that has haunted the Theatre for so very long... Especially when Rezso sends roses after every performance and is pressing for more and more time with her, not being satisfied that she is practicing...

The twist regarding Christine's new role was exceptionally well done and fed into an exciting finale that was extraordinary... I must have been swooning at that point...😍 LOL...

This review is immediately followed by a music collection from the book to show the research, breadth of musical expertise as attributed to the sequel Opera. I believe that the story itself stands able to be accepted as a true sequel to the original. In one way, the eroticism almost detracted me from the impact of the storyline. (If you don't want to read an erotic book...don't buy this...) That is what led me to create the additional musical collection. At the same time, it will fulfill the wishes of many who had wanted more romantic involvement in the original opera... I know it is just my personal opinion when I add that the ending was...just...perfect! 

This book has been placed at the very top of my personal favorites! The combination of the music, the storyline and the eroticism makes it a recommended must-read from me for all Phantom Lovers!

Proceed to the Music Collection!

GABixlerReviews

Mitzi Szereto (mitziszereto.com) is an author and anthology editor of multi-genre fiction and non-fiction. She has her own blog of humorous essays at Errant Ramblings: Mitzi Szereto’s Weblog (mitziszereto.com/blog), and a web TV channel Mitzi TV (mitziszereto.com/tv), which covers the quirky side of London, England. Her books include Rotten Peaches (The Thelonious T. Bear Chronicles) and Normal for Norfolk (The Thelonious T. Bear Chronicles)—the cozy mystery/satire series co-authored with her sidekick bear Teddy Tedaloo; The Wilde Passions of Dorian Gray; Pride and Prejudice: Hidden Lusts; Darker Edge of Desire: Gothic Tales of Romance; Love, Lust and Zombies; Thrones of Desire: Erotic Tales of Swords, Mist and Fire; Red Velvet and Absinthe: Paranormal Erotic Romance; Getting Even: Revenge Stories; and Dying For It: Tales of Sex and Death. Mitzi has pioneered erotic writing workshops in the UK and mainland Europe, teaching from the Cheltenham Festival of Literature to the Greek islands, as well as lecturing in creative writing at several British universities. Her anthology Erotic Travel Tales 2 is the first anthology of erotica to feature a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature.   

Ashley Lister (ashleylister.co.uk) is a prolific writer, having written more than two dozen full-length novels and over a hundred short stories. His most recent titles include the Sweet Temptation series from HarperCollins and the horror novel Raven and Skull, which is now available. Aside from regularly blogging about writing, Ashley is also an occasional performance poet and teaches creative writing. He has hosted creative writing workshops at Eroticon, the annual conference for sex bloggers and erotica writers, and is the editor of Coming Together in Verse, a charity anthology of erotic poetry. Ashley is currently studying for a PhD in creative writing, focusing on short fiction. He lives in Lancashire in the UK.  He lives in Lancashire in the UK. Visit his blog ashleylisterauthor.blogspot.co.uk.

Fantastic Story Collection, Oysters and Pearls, by Mitzi Szereto

I was so pleased that I have been able to get things going again with ebook loads into my reader... So happy that, when I read the two books that were submitted at two different times from Mitzi Szereto, I decided to do a spotlight on this author...

I can take or leave erotic stories; I have read a few books over the years but none caught my attention as did Oysters and Pearls: Collected Stories...

First because of the author's excellent storytelling... Second because of the breadth of  both the research and settings of the collection. In this one book, Szereto has taken us across the world into different lifestyles, religions, and times, as well as different personalities of her characters... What was very exciting to me was that the style of writing matched the type of story. For instance, in the first story, we meet a young Georgia girl who wants to act, but refuses to leave her home... she becomes enamoured with the lead in a vampire-themed

television series, but still we find the fresh innocence of a starlet encountering an experienced actor playing a vampire...but is he just acting?

~~~

The next story is funny, but probably could be oh so true, and will be an adventurous read for any wife whose husband has a particular love; e.g., sports for instance... This time it's BobDylan...

“It’s All Right, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”     

“Lay, lady, lay…” Oh, god, not again! That horrible nasal whine. Sounds like the man should blow his nose. “Lay across my…” I’ll give you brass beds. Maybe a nice brass bedpost to smash your head in with. Oh, bliss. Oh, silence. 
“Hon-ey, did you pick up my blue suit from the cleaners yet?” She sighs. Yet another thing she’s forgotten. Like the Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes for the kids. She’ll catch hell tomorrow morning at breakfast. She can see their matching blue eyes, glaring at her in accusation. “M-a-a-a-h-h!”

~~~

In this very common story, we see the wife move forward into marriage...and then...toward finding herself again! By any way it Takes...Very Cool story!

~~~

Heading to Derbyshire, she looks for signs from the last time there, walking down Bakewell... getting one of the Bakewell puddings that are, oh, so delicious... then continues her tour enjoying being back, finally stopping for lunch in a pub when she sees...an old friend...who soon also enjoys that Bakewell pudding... They were both glad she'd come home...

~~~

Next we head to Kyoto, where a young woman travels alone, sees someone to whom she is attracted and...

~~~

We soon meet Mrs. Atropos, a lovely Greek lady who was a seamstress by trade... and a wife/widow by happenstance... She forgets how many times she's been married but never forgets the intimacy shared with each one...Loving each man, she always creates something beautiful for them to wear and presents it as a joyous gift of her feelings...only to many times have him wear it as his funeral suit...Yikes!

Most of all, she missed the sound of the bouzouki. Her husband Nicholas played the bouzouki, pulling the notes from the strings with all the virtuosity of an artist stroking paint onto canvas. Nicholas and his magic fingers. Mrs. Atropos smiled as she reached for the bundle of blue denim beside her, taking the next piece of what would, by the end of the day, become a brand new pair of jeans to be sold in the crowded alleys a few minutes away in the city’s downtown—the downtown for those on a budget or too poor to shop in nicer cleaner places like the pristine shopping malls with their pristine food courts and pristine people. Although soon she’d be lucky to even afford the alleys, for according to her boss Mr. Rodriguez, business had dropped off in the months since Mrs. Atropos arrived on the floor and layoffs at the factory were a possibility. Well, there was always another factory and another sewing machine and another bundle to be stitched together. She was a good worker; she’d sewn from the time she was at her mother’s knee.

~~~

Had to be enthused about a woman who had moved from the city into a log cabin. City life hadn't been helping her blood pressure, and moving to the top of a mountain, with a neighbor more than a mile away was turning out to be perfect for her... "Some might call it 'solitary.' I call it 'smart.' The less dealings you have with people the less trouble you're going to get."

But then outside noises started and she began to get worried...I soon began to feel quite happy that I've recently had ADT installed! LOL... Because there in that cabin, she started finding the cabin open and food missing! "My Zombie, My Lover" will answer anything you want to know more about this quite...strange...story...

~~~

When he finished, he'd look
up and see me reclining on
my side, nude. Like the
famous painting, he'd say,
The Odalisque.
I am his Odalisque...
~~~

Dubai! I will never have visited there like I did in the story, Odalisque... I'm sure you will guess the ending of this story, just like I did...
Do we have a future? I asked.
Inshallah, he answered. If Allah is willing. 
We'd go dancing--the Kasbar...where we'd rub up against each other like two cats in heat...Music thundering in our ears, lights flashing, no one watching and everyone watching...

~~~

I enjoyed all of the stories, but I must select Escape as my favorite!

Escape...     Night after night, day after day I wait. I wait for what I cannot avoid: the inevitable. I do not wish to marry him. He is old, and he is ugly. The flesh hangs from his neck and upper arms in mottled rolls; I dare not think of the rest of him! His teeth are the shade of rotting timber with holes riddled through by worms. His eyes rake over me with a familiarity that causes my body to flush with shame. It’s as if he has already tasted my flesh, smelled my scent. When I see him I want to curl up into a tight ball and hide. But hide I cannot. For Father has other plans. It is considered acceptable for pretty young women whose bodies retain the flush of youth to marry ancient trolls, but this is a fate I’m unwilling to bear...

It is wonderful to see and learn of a young girl who has been promised to an older reigning leader, who decides she will not fulfill this promise. And the way it is done is a story beyond belief, yet, is so very satisfying...I loved it!

~~~

I must stop discussing each individual story or I shall still be writing a long time since there are many other stories in the collection with a total of 17, all of which are quite lengthy and with a story that will entertain, delight, or surprise, especially the last one, which I'll just give the title...The Turnip...
Although I've read an anthology or two, I must say that I've never enjoyed the stories in any other collection as much as those within the book, Oysters and Pearls. While I do not mind explicit sexuality if it is totally within the storyline, I do caution that if you are not interested in erotica material, please don't buy it. Truthfully, I did not find anything beyond what I have read within adult romantic suspense books...With that clarification, I highly recommend this for your consideration...


GABixlerReviews



Please Note: Mitzi Szereto is being Spotlighted at this time--next with an article by the author, telling about how her next book came about... If you haven't already read the three previous posts, Click here and go back to the first where she is introduced...

Mandy Rosko Takes Readers To 2319--The World's Still Seeking...

star trek the next generation data, android Star Trek Exhibit at Queen Mary Spruce Star Trek Exhibit at Queen Mary Spruce Goose Dome, Long Beach Ca, Feb 2008 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Head of android Data (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Select Your Parts???

hmmmm??? In the year 2319, humanoids are made for many different uses. Their primary reason for being, of course, can be designed...put in your order...or see what is being offered for sale at the market...

"Melody tore her eyes away from the gyrating, half naked men and women, wearing barely-there thongs over their greased bodies, along the path set up for the buyers

 to follow inside the airport's rented auction room. 

A difficult task considering almost every inch

 was being used up by booths, poles, tables, and cages.

 That last one Melody didn't particularly like,

 but it wasn't any of her business how these 

handlers dealt with their wares. 

She shrugged it off. To be fair, 

not many handlers put their stag or doe in cages, 

and the ones they'd used weren't exactly cramped. 

Most were even prettified with scarves and pillows

 for the humanoids to play with and relax on. 

As the doe lounged in her cage, 

Melody eyed her, pretending to be interested 

as a buyer instead of someone who also handled 

stag and doe for a living. Stag and doe, 

humanoids engineered and born in labs, 

were very popular, and expensive, in the sex industry. 

Little, if anything, was on their minds, 

save for the act of sex, when they would get it, 

who would give it to them, and how many times 

they could have it. The perfect sex toy, 

a warm body that wanted nothing better

 than to please and be pleased, 

who asked for virtually nothing in return...

~~~

Just One Touch 

(Sizzling Erotic Romance 

  Novella)

By Mandy Rosko

This is a hot futuristic scifi for those into erotica... Data came to mind for me, since I'm a long-time Trekkie..

Dex was not a Star Trek officer, however, he was a slave--a sex slave...

But even as a slave, he was different--maybe someone had crossed a wire for 

Melody was there for just that purpose. She had her own company, so she didn't want anybody to know who she was during the negotiations. As she roamed the market, she would take mental note of the offerings until she decided what she would purchase...

Until she was surprised to see Dex being auctioned...

She and Dex had a past history... Her mother had been in the business but had kept Dex for her own, but would not permit him to be with her sexually. Melody had tried to seduce Dex often and once did get him

in her room, only to be caught together. Melody had told her mother that Dex had attacked her...

Dex was immediately returned to the factory for...reprogramming...

Now he was back on the block to be sold to anybody who had the money...

But the sales pitch was different for Dex now. The owner stated that he could provide pleasure without any significant touching.

Melody had just walked up to where he was being held, in chains, been astounded to see him; but Dex was not happy to see her since she had caused him much pain and suffering, in many ways...

When Melody heard the owner, she didn't believe her...so she went forward to "try him out..."

The owner was correct in telling his abilities.

Melody bought him on the spot...

But Dex was in the mood for revenge, not loving...

If you've seen Data on television, you know that he often attempts to learn more about human feelings...

Perhaps it is better to long for them than to actually have them?
Dex probably thought so.

Because he sure gave Melody an earful! I loved it!

There is quite an interesting story in this short novella; and I found it quite intriguing. Will we humans ever be satisfied??? This is light erotica, not any more than you see in some major novels...except for a more specific language...

Highly recommended for those interested...Your Choice...


GABixlerReviews



Mandy Rosko is the middle of three children, not including three step-brothers. I am not married, have no kids, and am hoping that this writing business pays off one day since I'm not qualified, motivated, or smart enough to do anything else. : /

The first romance novel I ever read came from a used bookstore in Fort Erie, and as there isn't a Chapters, Coles, or any other place other than WalMart or Zellers where you could get books new in that town, I wound up losing a lot of money there. I started off reading fantasy, and always enjoying the bits of romance that were found in those books the most. Then I discovered Surrender My Love by Johanna Lindsay... 

Check out Author Site!

Adult Novel Witty Erotic Satire of Well-Known British Story...

"Elizabeth did not know which was more unpleasant--the sight of her mother or that of her sister Mary, whose moustache had now been joined by a beard..."

"One Morning Mr. Bennet announced
to his family that a guest would be arriving
at Longbourn. "I have received a letter from
my cousin, William Collins, who, when I am dead,
may turn you all out of this house as soon
as he pleases,.."

Pride and Prejudice:


Hidden Lusts








By Mitzi Szereto







I admit I decided to read and review this book out of curiosity because I had never read the original Pride and Prejudice given my business education and background. After reading the book, I did a little research and confirmed that this book does faithfully follow the original story line. Check out an excellent overview plus an interesting relationship diagram of the characters. Let me quickly say that any potential reader should understand that the book primarily consists of that specified in the subtitle. Indeed, I would say that it probably should have been the main title, as that is the predominant theme...

What I am saying is that nearly every character in this novel will be sharing their hidden lusts...with you... If you don't want to read these erotic thoughts and actions, please don't buy the book.

The most fascinating thing about the book I found was the seamless way in which Szereto has merged her contributions. While I didn't compare the actual wording, I believe the tone and majority of the concepts are true to the original story that spotlights on a family by the name of Bennet who has five unmarried daughters. As the father contemplates their future, he realizes that, should he die, they will be homeless since even their home would be inherited by the next male in the family.

Mr. Collins, in fact, has also been thinking about this, but for his own reasons. Through support from a wealthy woman in his small town, he has been named rectory of Hunsford parish. But stories have started to circulate about his involvement with the young boys of the congregation and his benefactor Lady Catherine de Bourgh has demanded he get married and settle into proper married life.

Having some sense of familial responsibility, Mr. Collins decides that one of the daughters of the Bennet family would undoubtedly fit his needs. He chooses the second oldest daughter, Elizabeth, after being told that Jane, the oldest was already involved. And thus it began...

Pictures of high society women's fashion during those days has always amused me, given the propensity for the decolletage and the willingness to place a woman's breast out for view. When I saw this caricature, it so fit with the Hidden Lusts that run rampant in this adaptation that I had to include it. For surely even other women sometimes doddled:

"Elizabeth, finding herself rather annoyed at her sister, rejoined her friend Miss Lucas... Charlotte's fingers once more sought out Elizabeth's arm, stroking the exposed flesh above her glove in a manner that was not at all displeasing, particularly when they quite by accident brushed against her bosom, seeming to remain at that vicinity far longer than was prudent...

In fact, Elizabeth was quite distraught that Mr. Darcy, about whom she could not decided whether she hated or loved him,  was being pursued by a woman of his own class, who wore this type of gown, offended Elizabeth:

"That she had chosen again so inappropriate a gown to wear in mixed company was a source of amazement to Elizabeth, who considered it most impolitic for a lady to place on display the areolae. Unless she was very much mistaken, Miss Bingley appeared to have applied some form of rouge to them..." 

Readers, don't even attempt to get seriously involved in the trials and tribulations of young girls who face the possibility of being homeless unless they find suitable husbands, and, preferably, someone with whom they would fall in love. This is a racy romp that is funny--perhaps just because it is a satire of a much-loved novel?

The outrageous humor kept my interest throughout most of the novel, although toward the end it was getting a bit much for me. Still, for the appropriate adult audience, I must add my agreement that Ms. Szereto has, while honoring the original manuscript, done an excellent job in inserting those hidden lusts that could very well have been in in the minds of each and every character from the original novel. Readers--you know who you are...

Book Received

From Publisher

GABixlerReviews

Review: Naughty Bits...

Image via Wikipedia

Naughty Bits:











An Anthology of Short Erotic Fiction

Spice Books
ISBN: 9780373605415
9 Stories
392 Pages

According to several sources, erotica is the hottest genre in publishing today--I don't know whether that is literally or figuratively, but apparently, for volume, there are many more books being published than in the past. Many writers enjoy writing short stories, but that means that you may have to submit for an available anthology being planned, hopefully that could use your short story.


Recently I noticed that the Vine had Naughty Bits, so for a little bit of variety I requested it for review. The key issue in an anthology is that there is a variety of topics, writers, and storylines, all of which may or may not be interesting to you. But, with the added touch each story gives you, when erotica is included, you may find something of interest even if you don't like the storyline.

Ok, I admit that I found one story that I simply loved--"Medusa's Folly" by Alison Paige. Imagine, if you will, a goddess who has been changed so that a man cannot look directly into her face. Remember she's the one with the snakes!

What is a girl to do?! Well, in all of her travels around the city, one day Medusa notices high upon on a building a gargoyle that looked quite different from others on the building. In fact, it seemed to include something that just might be--could it be?

Well, that woman climbed up onto the roof, slipping and sliding until she could reach this particular gargoyle. She was right! It had....oh my goodness!   Well, it would be difficult, but she maneuvered her way down to where she could sit on his lap! Here was a man whose face was already stone. She leaned in and kissed him...and then so much more!

Now obviously I can't share on each and every story, but here are the titles: Chance of a Lifetime by Portia Da Costa, The Priestess by Elliott Mabeuse, Taken by Lillian Feisty, Favor Me by Jenesi Ash, Primal Instincts by Cathryn Fox & Lisa Renee Jones, This is What I Want by Megan Hart, Improper Pleasure by Charlotte Featherstone and Caught in the Act by Saskia Walker.

One thing I noticed in this Anthology was that a number of the stories had multiple chapters, which does not often occur, as you may be aware. Erotia is meant to be short and on point for those who have not read it before, and, in my opinion, it is always for adults only. I enjoyed these longer stories and found myself more involved with the storyline.

One other story caught my attention given the ever-increasing blog writing these days. In "This is What I Want," a young woman who has an erotic blog...you guessed it...tells readers exactly what she wants. Some of these blog entries were included in the story. You might also find that there was a moral to this story...namely, that there is no security in what you write online...and there just might be someone who knows exactly who is behind the screen telling everybody...this is what I want...LOL

There is a little bit of everything in this book...from ancient times to modern, there is always somebody writing about it...right? So if you enjoy erotica, I think that you will indeed enjoy Naughty Bits: An Anthology of Short Erotic Fiction. Erotica is always a bit of fun, don't you think?

Book Provided Via
Amazon Vine

G. A. Bixler

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Miss Ruby by Spencer T., Third Chapter...

"Son, your friends and neighbors requested your presence to serve in the military through inscription which is a part of the requirement of being a young man. The US Army needed you but you seemed to ignore the second notice. The law allows me as a federal judge to place you in prison for up to five years and to issue a fine as punishment for your ignoring the service request."

"Yes Ma'am, and who are you in this case? Well, Miss Ruby Hines, I appreciate your concerns and have already considered that Mr. Turnage did not have criminal intent in his not responding to the second draft notice and believe I have a solution to this problem."

"Young man, as punishment for the crime of refusing to respond to a legal draft notice, my ruling allows for you to serve a minimum of three years in the military instead of the normal two. You may complete your present semester in college and will report to the US Army Intake center around the corner the day following the end of your semester."

"No, Miss Ruby I did not ignore the draft so I could help you with your daughter's visit. No, you owe me nothing. Yes, I know you love me and want the best for me. Yes, I know our relationship will change when I am gone. Yes, I know we are special to each other. No, I will never forget you. No dear, I don't want you paying the judge to keep me out of the army. I have no idea when; but, yes, I feel she is the woman I will marry someday. Yes, my parents know how I feel."

This incident happened in early October of 1965 not long after I turned 20 years of age, though at times my relationship with Miss Ruby caused me to feel much older. This beautiful, gorgeous woman who had all sorts of success kept me in a somewhat awkward mental state because she had chosen me to confide in and share what life normally brought years later. She admitted how unprepared she was for much of what she dealt with and knew her lack of much formal education had been a handicap for her. Still in her worse fumbling, she had been able to build a life, which many envied. They had no idea the sufferings she experienced, though. Miss Ruby was often like a delicate flower facing the horrible winds of life which all knew would someday appear. Often she was a contrast in emotions in that she swayed from a demure, caring person to a monster-like heathen. Her attention to detail in her dress and business dealings belied the often uncertainty I saw in her. I was never able to identify what I said or did which would frighten or upset her and send her off into a whirlwind of depressive action. She depended on me far more than I appreciated. I needed my own space and freedom to be who I was to become as a person.

The mysterious ways she was able to find out what I was doing or how she allowed my association with my real girlfriend to not destroy our relationship remained a puzzle. The passion she applied to anything having to do with me was amazing and always a good ego massage. Then at times I felt smothered by this woman though I willingly kept the association alive. She was like a drug to me and offered the ultimate high. Was I a lucky young man or a fool in a cage?

As the weeks passed and my semester got closer to its end, she seemed to be in a state of desperation to have me as often as time allowed. She made excuses for us to meet to discuss even the most trivial of topics. I had agreed we could share a dinner out at one of the finest restaurants as one of our parting celebrations and she freely kept that promise in the forefront. There was constant talk about what we'd have when I returned three years later. I knew inside if I married the woman I wanted to, then our relationship would draw to a close. Though she was willing to be whatever part she could be in my life, I think she knew I was being as honest and forthright as I could. I refused to mislead her.

The Christmas holidays were the benchmark for my final days before entering the Army on January 14. I was in a whirlwind of family activities, time with my girlfriend and entertainment engagements. She was present at every public event and a couple times had gifts sent to the house for me. She even sent gifts to my girlfriend. It was all winding down to a future neither of us knew much about and she wanted every minute of time we could share. Miss Ruby always held huge New Year's Eve celebrations at her lounges but this year she spent most of the night watching me sing at a function for a social club. I knew she was hoping for the possibility that once I got my girlfriend home we might have some time to share. That was her assessment, which was opposite of mine. I had told her I would never do that to anyone I cared about. She persisted, calling me stubborn or too proper for my own good.

We spent our final night together a couple days prior to my departure, with her treating me more like the "Last Supper" and totally wiping out my twenty-year-old body. Her stamina was amazingly more than any woman I have ever met. Admittedly, I knew this was our last encounter and did savor it as much as she did.

The military years passed as they would with regular cards and notes from Miss Ruby updating me on how things were going, with an occasional inquiry as to us getting together to share again. I never addressed that issue again for I knew my separation from her had to be clear. I had to move on with my own life, whatever it was to bring.

My wedding was planned for a couple months after my return from Vietnam. I took leave and came home to get married but did not visit Miss Ruby. On my wedding day she appeared with a large wrapped gift box for my wife and me, dressed as impeccably as I'd ever seen her. At the reception she interacted with family and friends and seemed genuinely happy I was happy.

From that point until she died, Miss Ruby appeared at special family gatherings including childbirths, sibling's weddings and similar events. She seemed a lovely shadow to have in one's life, though we only rarely met to discuss our lives. She felt like a secure image of someone special in my life in spite of the years that lapsed between encounters. I attended a function in her honor when I was nearly fifty years old and could see the remnants of the beautiful lady I once was close to.

Miss Ruby died in 1998, only weeks after her housekeeper had contacted me about her illness. My visit to her hospital room was overrun with memories and a lifelong passion of that young man who had been taught by this woman who was willing to teach him how to please a woma, how to make sure she received what she needed to be satisfied and how to experience and share the ultimate in sexual pleasures. In that hospital bed I still saw the sunlight-like smile she so readily beamed and could still see the remnants of who she once had been.

Long lines of entertainers, dignitaries, former city officials and common folk who knew her, or about her, wrapped around the funeral home for the last time to catch a gander at Miss Ruby. I was able to spend a few hours with her now-grown daughter who had a list of alphabet letters behind her name, yet felt compelled to remind me that I had remained someone special throughout her mother's life. She showed me pictures I had forgotten ever existed, explaining how her mom treasured me not only because she loved me but because I never took advantage of her and always tried to help her improve her life and circumstance.

It took this final chapter of her life to allow me to discover that Miss Ruby was seventeen years older than I. We had found common ground on which to share whatever it was we shared. Miss Ruby still lives in the special memories of my life.

Miss Ruby by Spencer T., Second Chapter...

Chapter Two

"I do not appreciate being treated like a whore! I told you I didn't want any money from you and was pissed when I found this in my vest pocket. Please take this fifty-dollar bill and do something good with it or give it to charity. If we are going to have some sort of relationship, I don't want your money!" Miss Ruby was totally confused; every man she had been with had loved receiving money from her. She quietly took the money and slipped it into the pocket of her robe.

I was keeping her off guard in always being different from what she had been used to. I didn't appreciate her take-charge attitude when it came to me and certainly didn't like her making plans for me when I had other things planned. Another issue was my car. She had ordered someone to have a key made to make it more convenient to move my car from one place to the other when we rode together in her limousine. It unnerved her that I was not impressed by the limo, her driver or any of the trappings that made her life different from mine. Though I was only a tender nineteen year old, I had already formed personal habits, which were just the opposite of the many men she knew. That impressed her, even though she still wanted me to be impressed with what she had accomplished. Soon, I found out that the gig we had at the Iron Gate had been arranged by her and was a payoff for something the owner owed her. We had been there weeks before I met her and before discovering what influence she had in the local entertainment industry. She tossed around her power to award or punish as she saw fit and wanted to have a lot more influence on me than I allowed. Often, all she wanted was for us to talk. She was fascinated by my ideas and ideals; and at some point asked, "Would you help me change my life?"

I was constantly in somewhat of a state of shock in dealing with her. I knew she was older than I but her age was a town secret. Some weeks had passed with us having intermittent encounters and occasional sexual interludes, which always freaked me to the maximum. Here I was, a young man still feeling his way in life, with a very beautiful, yet barely educated woman, who had a huge legacy of success dealing with the gutter end of life. Which I abhorred.

I constantly wondered if seeing her at all was too large a contrast for what I wanted from life; but my ego always climbed in the equation, causing me to succumb to her desires. It was easy to see that I had become someone special to her, perhaps because she came to realize I would not be overwhelmed with her lifestyle nor in what I could "get" out of her. We walked a fine line to continue that relationship¾whatever it was called. One day I came home from Harris Teachers College knowing I had to grab a nap before going to work at midnight after getting homework done. Miss Ruby called, begging, pleading that I meet her as soon as possible. Since explaining my situation didn't move her, I finally agreed for us to meet. She gave me an unfamiliar address not too far from my home so I wasn't too concerned. I went and knocked on the door to find her in jeans and an oversized man's shirt. I had never seen her in other than her finery, and was pleased to see an ordinary woman who was still just as beautiful as ever.

Ruby hugged me vigorously, "This is our new place. A place where we can meet and not be around the crowd or the bodyguards and all those people you don't care for. I want you to help me invest money in places so you'll think better of me." While she still had an almost begging expression on her face, she seemed satisfied that she was doing what I would have her do.

I was still somewhat confused, "why me?'

She went through a long explanation about never having met someone who wasn't trying to get all they could from her and she knew months before that she wanted me in her life. I couldn't help but be impressed that she thought enough of me to buy a small house where we could spend time together alone, but it caused me additional concern, wondering how deeply I was getting with her.

She told me she knew I had to get back to get some sleep, but I could stay there if I wished. As she planted the key in my hand, she hugged and kissed me more like a close relative would than a lover. We continued our occasional interludes, but she grew more dependent on my advice and ideas to the point that on more than one occasion she handed me a bag of cash to help her count. Always those sessions led to a discussion about purchasing another apartment building or house that would produce additional income. I had saved what I considered good money from my earnings from entertaining but wanted to leave that life because it kept me in a quandary, not really wanting to be in that life.

So I became not only her lover but also a confidant she grew to depend on more and more. I learned she had arranged for another Madame to handle her girls and was no longer involved in the gambling trade in town. She began to see that she could take the money she earned from her lounges and taxicabs and invest it in other legal enterprises and make even more money. It thrilled her like a child who had been given a new toy and it kept me visiting her regularly. There came a time we were at our house discussing investment strategy when she fell apart. She simply blurted out that I needed to step up to the plate and be more of a man for her, so she could step out of the limelight and be a housewife.

At first I thought she had lost her mind but then recognized that she was a very lonely person needing someone to share with her. It was then I told her about my girlfriend whom I later married. I was surprised that she already knew about her. She made a few specific demands to me, while I told her in no uncertain terms I could not be who she wanted me to be for her. After my suggestion that she find someone more her age I soon discovered she took it the wrong way because she went into a rage about having a lovely body, firm good looking breasts, a tight perfect ass and legs of perfect proportions. There was no doubt she was right in her assessment, but I was speaking about a more mature man who could satisfy her needs. Her only reply was, "but I want you."

We fell into one of the deepest sexual forays we'd had up until that point. We never spoke of it again. It became known in the streets that I was helping her change her life. This caused many encounters with men of all ages making sleazy inquiries as to how good was she in bed? Was she an alcoholic? Did she give good head and was her entire body as perfect naked as it was in clothes? I was the envy of many of the men she did business with, but it really was not a satisfying ego trip.

It did allow me to be recognized just about any place I went and accepted as well. Miss Ruby did in fact have a real influence in my life. A year or so after she accepted I was seriously involved with someone else, she had purchased a number of four-family flats, duplexes and a few houses; and I became her bookkeeper and created form letters to send to tenants when needed.

I received my first draft notice in the spring of 1966 and was mentally preparing to go to war. She wanted me to meet her little girl down south who lived with her sister before I was to leave so we prepared for the event. After deciding that she wanted her daughter to come to St Louis, she became a nervous wreck and fell into a depressive state. My attempts at getting her to go visit and not have the child to come here fell on deaf ears. Not known to me, she was preparing to create a life in which to introduce her daughter and keep her away from the real life style she had lived. I found her looking at every sort of magazine available and cutting out articles from the newspapers to help give her ideas of what to do with the child when she arrived. I didn't feel good about the pretense, but she insisted. When her daughter arrived, a beautiful nine-year-old child, I accompanied her to the bus station to meet her. Miss Ruby did not look like herself in that she was dressed in a light colored sundress with sandals as shoes. She was obviously nervous and felt out of place with a child by her side. I took the lead and talked with the little girl as a friend of her mom's and the child suggested that her aunt had wanted her to visit the zoo. We went to eat and took her daughter to the little bungalow she called our house. A handful of friends showed up to greet the child but didn't stay long. The next morning we took a daylong trip to the zoo and her daughter had a blast. I had to work the next day so I didn't see her till late and found Miss Ruby in a frustrated state because of the child. I took her to my house to play with my little sister and when some neighbor kids showed up, she fell into a good playing groove. The next three or four days were similar with the child being happy to play with the other kids. After her daughter went back down south, Miss Ruby fell deeper into her now almost continuous depression. She hated hiding her real life from her child and felt so ashamed. Nothing I did or said helped her get out of the depression that gripped her. It became common when I went by the house for her to be in a drunken stupor; yet she always wanted to engage in sex. Unfortunately, I could not tolerate drunks and refused to accommodate her. On one of those occasions she threatened to get another man who would take care of her needs. When I simply said OK, she went into a rage. She started throwing things around the house and screaming that I couldn't let her do that. I kissed her and walked out leaving her in a sobbing heap.