Black Love

It's absolutely perfect that February is the month of love AND of celebrating black history. Another month-long excuse to love yourself and another beautiful afro-god(dess) spiritually, physically, and honestly. Never mind that February is the shortest month. It's about the quality of time spent, not the quantity.

As for me, I plan on a trip to the African-American Research Library and Cultural Center in Fort Lauderdale. After (or before) that I will watch When Night is Falling (my new copy on DVD!) at least once more, and then take myself off to the spa for a day of self-appreciation.

Ah, black love!

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February Appearances

Saturday, February 13, 2010. 4 PM - 5 PM.

Gay Black Heritage Literary Cafe
Join me, Skyy, and other authors for a reading and discussion at the Breath of Life Fellowship Community Church (BOLFCC) 2210 East 3rd Ave, Tampa, FL

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Tuesday, February 23, 2010. 8:00 PM

A Live on-line discussion on Lesbian Fiction and Literature
To join log onto: http://bit.ly/cBNRqC
See you there!

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Hot Shorts

From the upcoming novel Desire at Dawn

She tasted like fresh baked bread. Like the flavors from Kylie’s human life that had meant so much, that once made her tongue dance and wet itself and beg.

Kylie sniffed the woman cautiously, took her passive fear into her nose, ran her hands over the fear-stilled flesh. Bread and cheese, melting. Hm.

She tasted good. Like sitting on the front stoop waiting for her mother to come home while rain fell in lazy droplets ready to wash Naomi’s city smells away.

The woman stirred in Kylie’s arms. Twin red pinpricks dotted the curve of her throat. “Are you finished with me?” Her voice was fearful but excitement danced just beneath the words.

“No.”
“Yes.”

Kylie turned to see who had negated her although she already knew who had spoken. Silvija. Just a few feet away, barely sheltered by the trees in the woman’s front yard, she stood just behind Kylie’s mother. She was tall and fearsome while Belle, Kylie’s mother, was graceful and small, a gazelle waiting to run.

“No,” Kylie said again. “I am not finished with her.”
In her arms, the woman moaned softly and clung.
Silvija laughed. “Rebellion must run in the family.”
The look she leveled on Kylie was not amused. It was her first and last warning.

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Fiona on the Web and Online

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New Year, New Dreams

Writer’s Note

Welcome to the new year! Only a few days into it, 2010 already feels like a year of positive change, excitement, and blessings to come.

With the help of wonderful friends, I'm making great headway on the eBook, Kisses After Midnight, slated to come out later this year while my website is being re-vamped and made even more fabulous. So stay tuned for that unveiling to come soon. The paperback novel, Dangerous Pleasures, is on my editor's desk going through its own particular process. All good things. All progress. All things for the new year and beyond.

In that vein, be prosperous and be well. The fortunes of the future are yours to seek now.

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Hot Shorts

“Fast” Part V

[continued from last month]

Relief pushed aside Jette’s caution. She didn’t even bother to ask Luna how she got into the locked and alarmed car. “Where do you want to go?”

“Down to the beach.” Luna’s teeth glinted in the darkness. “Near the cliffs.”

They cruised down the boulevard, top down despite the rain-heavy gray clouds that floated above their heads. At the beach, Jette nosed the car past a high gate and down to a ramp leading to the water. Waves crawled up the beach, lapping at the Mustang’s tires.

Luna touched Jette’s thigh. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
“And you wanted to be found?”
“More or less.” Luna’s smile turned playful. “So now that you’ve found me, what are you going to do?”

Jette wasn’t used to all this talking. The other woman’s bright smile intimidated her, started a shiver of fear in her belly that she’d never known before. It felt good.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Jette opened the car door.

They made it as far as the hood of the Mustang before the rain started. They stopped and stood under the cool shower, watching each other. Silver droplets caught in Luna’s eyelashes and traced the full curve of her mouth.

“What do you want, Adrenaline Girl?”
“You tell me,” Jette said. “Aren’t you the one who’s sure that she knows what I want and how I want it.”

Luna chuckled again and stepped closer. Jette’s skin tingled in anticipation. Her world slowed, tilted until the warm hood of the Mustang was under her back. She closed her eyes. Rain danced against her mouth, streamed down her face and into her hair. Luna moved over her, shielding Jette from the rain. “I have exactly what you want right here.”

She tasted like a well-aged merlot, wet and soft, with a touch of oak and cardamom. Rain blinded Jette again as Luna moved away. She felt a hungry mouth nuzzling her throat, the delightful slide of the woman’s tongue on her skin.

The pain. It blossomed gently under the hothouse mouth. Jette gasped and swallowed rain, eyes fluttering, blinking quickly under the steady drops. It felt like she was losing her virginity again. Pleasure slowly obliterated the pain. Jette’s hands hooked in Luna’s hair, holding her against her throat, pressing the greedy mouth into her skin. Her body was wet from the inside out, spreading and softening under Luna’s hands.

Deft fingers floated over Jette’s belly, down to the zipper of her slacks. Luna opened her body, slid inside its welcoming heat. Her pussy clenched and sucked the fingers deeper. That’s when Jette felt it, a vibration like the roaring of the Mustang as it slid into third gear. Jette’s body trembled under the soft hand, then shook, then shuddered before finally coming to rest.

Luna slowly pulled away. “Now,” she said. “What can you do for me?” Her eyes glowed like headlights through the rain.

“I thought I already did it?” Jette touched her own throat, felt the rawness there. Her voice trembled. She knew exactly what had just happened. The part that most concerned her was that she’d let someone else do the driving. She said as much to her new lover.

Luna laughed, husky and low. “You are worth keeping.”

Jette once thought that death would come quickly. But now she knew better. Death was languorous and sweet, perfuming the air with the scent of blood and woman and jasmine. Death came at night, lingering over Jette’s throat and thighs with a hunter’s patience, drinking her fill, taking everything that Jette was or ever knew. Slowly.

**First published in VA-VA-VOOM: Red Hot Lesbian Erotica. Edited by Astrid Fox, 2005.