Thursday, February 27, 2014

The Greek Erotes, those adorable winged love-gods

I readily admit I don't know everything.

I do know a lot about Greek and Roman mythology, having spent the better part of my life studying, reading, and learning about all the various versions, authors, beliefs, and characters active in the majority of the myths. Thus, when I find something new in this world of long-dead religious beliefs, I am surprised and intrigued.

Sappho fragment:
"[The rites of Aphrodite:] After the contests [mock contests of suitors] she goes into the bridal chamber, garlands the room and makes up the bed, then she gathers the girls into the bridal room and brings in Aphrodite herself on the Kharites' (Charites', Graces') chariot with her chorus of Erotes (Loves) to join in the fun. She binds Aphrodite's hair in hyacinth . . . she adorns the Erotes' wings and tresses with gold and urges them on in procession before the chariot, waving their torches in the air."

My newest discovery revolves around the birth of Aphrodite and her youthful, winged attendants.

Of course, the most famous of them is Eros, god of love. Of him, I know.

The other ones, however, are completely new to me. Unknown, in the best sense of the word.

HIMEROS: God of Sexual Desire
He was one of the Erotes, winged love-gods, little cupids which either Aphrodite was born already pregnant with, giving birth soon after her own birth from the sea foam or the two attendants which greeted her upon her birth. Though he had other brothers, the most famous were Eros and Pothos (this little fella always reminds me of Porthos from the Musketeers saga... very different "men" yet, in some ways surprisingly similar - look into it!). Most often, Himeros was seen, in art - both ancient, as in the first image and modern works, as in the second image - with Eros beside Aphrodite. However, in the written word, he appeared frequently with Eros, their combined presence renamed Anteros, god of reciprocal love.

POTHOS: God of Sexual Longing and Yearning
So, this guy is a little harder to pinpoint the origin of. He could be another son of Aphrodite... but, that is very debatable. Especially since a lot of the ancient authors never mentioned him until much later in history. Well after the first written account of Aphrodite's birth. Instead, he could have been a son of Zephyros, the west wind, and Isis, the rainbow. If so, he is supposed to represent the various passions of love. Despite his questionable parentage, my favorite story of his involves him sprinkling desire, in the form of petals, on the at sea Europa. 

The three brothers: Eros, Himeros, and Pothos

Other Erotes

HEDYLOGOS: God of Sweet-Talk and Flattery
I find this god rather insulting, actually, but maybe that's just me.

HERMAPHRODITOS: God of Effeminate Men
Yeah, definitely going to write a story about him... he's an interesting character. As an Erotes, though, I am highly intrigued about the lasting implications of both his birth and his relationship with the gods of Olympus.

HYMENAIOS: God of the Marriage Ceremony
Selena Kitt, in her novel, The Song of Orpheus, had this one of the Erotes as a son of Apollo and Calliope, one of the muses. Which, from my research, is a definite possibility. Why? Well, instead of being the god of marriage ceremonies, he was more likely the god of the wedding hymen sung by the bride and groom's attendants as they led the new couple to their honeymoon chamber. In Ms. Kitt's version, he is kind of a jerk, but from what I read, he wasn't all that bad.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Do you Zoo? How about Zoophilia (aka Bestiality)

Even if you have only a passing knowledge of Greek and Roman mythology, you are sure to know at least one story in which an animal is involved, very often a god in disguise. Not only involved, but frequently the animal is in a position of seduction or snatching - by the way, did you know the Latin word for snatch or seize is rapere? - either the mortal's heart or more.

My favorites of these stories are, in no particular order:

Leda and the Swan - not so much because I like swans or hate Leda and think she deserves no better, but because she lays an egg from the encounter [p.s. Zeus rapes poor Leda in the form of a swan]

Peter Paul Rubens

James LeGros

Greco-Roman mosaic, Museum of Cyprus

Europa and the Bull - most teenage girls go through a phase where they seriously consider becoming a vet because they "love animals;" Europa took it one step further [p.s. Zeus appears to Europa as a white bull, taking her to Crete to mate with her]

Carl Milles

Red-Figure Stamnos, Tarquinia Museum

Gillis Coignet

Pasiphae and the Bull - only because she fell for a real bull, flesh and blood bovine, no god in bull's clothing, er, hide; made even better because she has to beg Daedalus to help her find a way to satisfy her unusual desires, in the end putting on a cow suit

Jonathan Hirschfeld

As far as the Roman and Greek views on this act, beyond the scope of religion, it was widely assumed to be practiced often in all other cultures but their own. The Greeks thought the Egyptians, specifically women, found goats highly arousing. The Romans, well, they said the Greeks, specifically men, liked to find pleasure with goats, sows, and mares. And, just for giggles, the Hittites out-right forbade their men from engaging in intercourse with all animals... except mares and mules. Uh?

Monday, February 24, 2014

Review for Claimed by Centaurs

This is my review of Claimed by Centaurs by Audrey Grace, which can be found on Amazon for $2.99.

First off, some negatives: 1) The story was very short, the mass of the book's length was made up of numerous excerpt's from Ms. Grace's other works; 2) I didn't feel the story was complete; and 3) I found the story a little quick on the sex and not much character development (the story read far more like a prologue to a larger, more comprehensive work than a stand-alone piece).

Now, the positives: 1) Extremely well-written with clear, concise language and only one typo I noted; 2) an intriguing idea; and 3) I loved her centaurs!

In the story, a newlywed virgin is honeymooning in beautiful Greece with her equally inexperienced husband. Like most, I assume, virginal couples, little passion and pleasure is being discovered from this first dip into the lake of sexual interludes. Instead, both are kind of fumbling through the actions, unsure of what exactly they should be doing or feeling. So, it isn't too much of a surprise when the woman takes her pleasure into her own hands with the plan that she must understand her own passion before she can find it with her husband. I found it weird that she managed to discover an orgasm the first time out on her own means, but alas, this is fiction.

What follows is a rather understandable misunderstanding between the newlyweds, hurt feelings, and pouting from both sides. This all culminates with the woman deciding on a hike up the nearby Mt. Pelion to watch a sunset from the peak. Along the way, she gets irrationally angry with her hotel-sent guide and sends him away. Then, as the day ends, she decides to get down to her own business in the great outdoors.

This, the scent of her in heat, attracts the attention of a local tribe of centaurs. A gangbang, though traditional and ritual, ensues. Despite the unlikely hood of a woman uncomfortable with sex with her husband deciding instead to accept, willingly, the advances of not one centaur, but a whole tribe of them, and finding multiple orgasms in the  process, I did enjoy Ms. Grace's erotic style - the best I've read in a while!

What bothered me most, though, was the ending. Ms. Grace sets up a brilliant follow-up to this interlude and I actually looked forward to how the woman would explain all of the events on the mountain to her husband, whether he would react with understanding or not, if she could find ecstasy with him to, and, how she might explain a potential pregnancy and need to return to the hotel for their first anniversary. I couldn't wait to get into it... only to find out the story was done. Huh? It was just getting good, getting interesting, getting dramatic, and it's done. That sucked!

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Introducing: The First Lesbian, Sappho, and Her Love Poetry

Lesbian: a resident of Lesbos

Lesbian: a woman who is sexually attracted to another woman

How now brown cow? 

At what point, did the word, Lesbian, change from simply meaning a person from Lesbos  to its current reconstruction as a homosexual designation? The answer is simple: Sappho.

Sappho is one of the most influential poets of all time. The fact that she was born sometime in the 600s B.C.E. on a Greek territory island and was a woman makes her accomplishments as a poet even more impressive. Ancient Greece was not known as a particularly open-minded society, especially in the women-rights arena. Women basically had one purpose and that was the bearing of legitimate heirs. Beyond that, well, slaves and young men were far more useful for the rest of the day-to-day needs of the average Greek man.

So, how is it that a Greek woman managed to garner such influence and reputation as a poet?

Well, simply put, she was THAT good. She wrote lyrical poetry, a great deal of it centered on love and emotions. Although the bulk of her works are missing, lost to time, the few fragments which remain are still insightful into her genius. It also doesn't hurt, that the ancients from her time and on, also found this woman a masterful poet.

In their own words:
Solon of Athens heard his nephew sing a song of Sappho's over the wine and, since he liked the song so much, he asked the boy to teach it to him. When someone asked him why, he said: "So that I may learn it, then die."
So much so, that one Roman poet, Catullus, basically was translated from the Greek to the Latin.

But, what of the woman, herself? Is there anything, there, that suggests she was in fact a lover of women? How do we get from Lesbos, Sappho's birthplace, to Lesbian?

We know very little about Sappho, the woman. That which we do know about her family and early life, is gathered from ancient sources and her surviving works. So, as any of you poets know, that could be reality or metaphorically. But, here's what we got: her parents probably died while she was somewhere in her early twenties. She gave birth to a daughter. She had three brothers, though, she only really cared for the youngest. At some point, we know she was exiled from Lesbos and sent to Sicily - due to politics.


Sappho wrote the majority of her verses on declarations of love - from either men or women, but most often to a woman. Since, as both writer and reader, Sappho was the voice of her poetry, she wrote homoerotic poems. Also, she seemed particularly comfortable in the presence of women, as contemporaries.
What else could one call the love of the Lesbian woman than the Socratic art of love? For they seem to me to have practised love after their own fashion, she the love of women, he of boys. For they said they loved many, and were captivated by all things beautiful. What Alcibiades and Charmides and Phaedrus were to him, Gyrinna and Atthis and Anactoria were to her ..
Thus, it comes to light that Sappho herself made use of the Lesbian, resident, to one of Lesbian, homosexual attraction between women. This favorite poem of mine (echoed by Catullus):
He appears to me, that one, equal to the gods,
the man who, facing you,
is seated and, up close, that sweet voice of yours
he listens to

And how you laugh your charming laugh. Why it
makes my heart flutter within my breast,
because the moment I look at you, right then, for me,
to make any sound at all won’t work any more.

My tongue has a breakdown and a delicate
— all of a sudden — fire rushes under my skin.
With my eyes I see not a thing, and there is a roar
that my ears make.

Sweat pours down me and a trembling
seizes all of me; paler than grass
am I, and a little short of death
do I appear to me.
just puts it all perfectly... enjoy!

Friday, February 21, 2014

Free Kindle eBooks on Amazon - February 21, 2014

Always check price before purchase as cost may have changed.

A Date of Godlike Proportions

There’s bound to be pressure when it takes 2500 years to get to a second date. Which is exactly why Theo Rockman, a.k.a. Prometheus, would rather not go. With his best friend gravely injured and the fate of humanity still on the line, Theo has all sorts of creative excuses to avoid dating swoon-worthy god and love of his life, Hephaestus.

YA romantic comedy gets an epic mythological twist in the short story A Date of Godlike Proportions (The Blooming Goddess Trilogy Book 2.5). Being human hasn’t killed Theo, but this date just might.

Excerpt and description taken from Amazon site.

Pandora's Mistake

** The Fate of Eros Series: Book 0 **

Forbidden love is passionate. Pandora knows that she shouldn't be with a man reviled by the gods, but that makes him more exciting.

Excerpt and description taken from Amazon site.

Cartoons - Need a Laugh?

Some lightness for your week...

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Ganymede, a short story (part 1)

This is just a short story, not related to one of my novellas. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Warning: Homosexual sex, a threesome, and rape. All explicit.

Ganymede, snatched away
            “My dear boy, you know I wasn’t jealous much before we met.”

I nodded my acceptance of his claim, though; internally I debated its fact. His romantic conquests were legendary, not just here in Troy, but all across the Mediterranean. The sailors at the taverns were always eager to share the most lurid of the tales after a few cups of undiluted wine. I, myself, had shared a few with the guys. Never, however, my personal experiences.
“Every woman I see look at you makes me want to swoop down and snatch you up. I’ve never been so possessive.”
“Eros had it easy, I was an easy mark. A little small talk, a little touch, and I was stuck. I really don’t know what you’ve done to me. Women never fall this easily.” He laughed, a deep-throated rumble like the sound an approaching storm makes as it gathers force in the open waters. I loved it!
“I feel a kind of fear when you aren’t right here near me.” His grip tightened on my arm, pulling me closer to his chest. His dark, only slightly greying, chest hair tickled my own hairless ribcage. Smiling, I rolled over to my side to rest my soft cheek over his pounding heart and draped my leg over his much larger, more muscular one.
I lifted my leg a bit, sliding my thigh up higher along his, just barely nudging his already hardening cock. My voice lowered seductively, “Everything is new…”
“I beg you, Ganymede, don’t waste any of your emotion on or share your devotion with another. Give me all your love!” His volume rose, a true godly command, as he turned my face up so our eyes could meet. The deep brown of his pupils, clouded still with lust, met my own paler brown eyes – like a woman’s, my father once told me, though not as a compliment. He waited for my acquiescence, a slight gesture of understanding. I was his.
“I’ve had my share of love affairs, boy. Short, meaningless flings. Sensible enough for my wife to accept. Which makes this…” he waved his hand, heavy and etched with years of labor, rough with so many callouses at the air above us, intertwined as we were. “This is so unfathomable. Hera is not going to be pleased with you.”
I didn’t appreciate hearing Hera’s name, her wrath was as well known as his sordid tales of lust. Speaking her name was, no doubt, some kind of signal for listening ears to report what was going on here. If she didn’t already know about me, I definitely didn’t want her to find out by catching her husband and I in the act. Or, rather after the act. Our skin still shone with fresh sweat, our hearts still beat rapidly, our breaths coming shallow and quick between words, my skin flush, his smile content, and signs of his completion drying white and sticky on my thighs and backside. Just the thought of what had moments ago been happening in this room and on this pallet, brought the memory back and with it, my passion.
Idly, I looked down to see my fingers had found their way around Zeus’ cock. I slipped my fingers slowly up and down the hard, steely, length of him. At first, barely tickling the velvet skin, then with more pressure each stroke. The pleasure I caused to flourish and peak in Zeus amazed not only him, but also me. It was so easy. It felt so right. My tongue eased from my lips to lap at the nipple I rested my head on. Deep strokes of my tongue across his pebbling nipple grew stronger and harsher with each stroke of my fist on his cock. I moved my thigh higher on his, pulling his cock a little higher away from it, and caressed his balls, instead, with my soft and tender flesh. I shivered at the sensation.
Zeus’ sigh quickly turned to a deep groan, which reverberated through his chest and echoed against my ear. I lifted my head for a moment to look back up at my god. His head was tossed back; eyes shut tight, mouth open. Tugging at his beard, I got him to open his eyes and lift his head, confusion clear on his face.
“Will you take me again, my lord?”
The confusion vanished, replaced with pure passion. “Climb on up boy and let’s pleasure each other first. Then, yes, I’ll take you, my boy.” Under his breath, he continued, mumbling, barely audible, “I can’t seem to deny you or myself.”
I moved swiftly, happiness and joy at getting him again, moving me faster than usual. Untwining my limbs from his and switching direction, I gracefully draped my smaller, more feminine body, soft where other young men in the village were hard muscle, over him. I reveled in the musky smell of the olive-skinned god as I stretched my arms along his thighs and gripped his knees, already bent for me. My legs, I gingerly straightened and placed over his arms. His hands grasped my calves as I felt him pull us both into a more upright position, bracing his neck against the rolled up bedding at the headboard. I kneeled upon his broad shoulders. His breath blew zealously across the heated skin of my rampant cock a moment before I felt the warmth of his mouth suck me in.
“O, Zeus!” I almost lost it then, nearly came in his talented mouth. But, that wasn’t allowed. At least not until I got him off first. The rules were never spoken outright, but during that first night together, he had directed me in the ways of earning his praise. Direction I took to heart, eagerly.
I fought my imminent climax and tried to will my body into waiting. I needed a distraction. As fortune would have it… I grinned. Zeus’ cock was a masterpiece. Thick and long, curved slightly up. According to him, he was bestowed with the unique shape courtesy of Aphrodite – “in order to better pleasure his women” – a gift, for all of us, really. With my hands supporting my weight, I had to maneuver about to get that cock where I wanted it, right between my lips, the head clamped tightly between them. Then, using my gifted tongue, I dipped it into the slit and began to stroke up and down. I savored the bitter flavor of his pre-cum as it leaked from the slit. I started to hum, then, my lips vibrating on his sensitive cock head. His own mouth, sucking and licking my cock, suddenly let go as he moaned deep and whispered my name. Safe, for the moment, from a premature climax, I continued my satisfying assault on my lover’s cock. Opening my lips just the slightest bit, I lowered my head to slide his cock further into my mouth and down my throat. I took as much of him as I could, sucking on his thickness, licking along the veins which beat and throbbed with his desire.
He rocked his hips up and thrust himself more deeply into the moist warmth of my welcoming mouth. The head bumped against the back of my throat and I fought hard ignore the reflex to pull back and dislodge him. Turning the sensations inward, I let the feel of him in my mouth and throat register lower, in my groin, making my balls bounce and tighten and my cock swell just a little bit more. Zeus’ deep grumbly mirth coated my cock with a dewy heat as he laughed, “Like that, do you boy?” I tried to smile around his plunging cock, but it was impossible. I nodded my ascent instead, causing another round of laughter from Zeus.
So enjoying himself, he began to draw circles around my button, one pinky tracing the puckered skin. I groaned and he thrust again, harder and deeper. Needing more, at this point in the game, I thrust right back at him, lifting my ass and pushing it back towards his finger. He understood, gods bless the man, and went from tracing my button, to pushing first one finger, than two inside me. My canal shivered around the intrusion and I contracted against his wide fingers. He curved the same fingers and stroked the thin, inner lining of my canal. Bliss, pure bliss! I sucked mightily, using my tongue to swirl saliva around the head of his cock as he withdrew each stroke.
“Good gods, Ganymede, I need you!”
The sudden exclamation surprised me, as did the sudden switch in position. I looked back, beneath me, between my legs where Zeus had moments earlier been. All I could see now were his upper thighs as his hands grabbed my hips harshly, pulling me tight into his groin. I reached back behind me, bowing by back, raising my ass and shoulders, to caress his Zeus’ cock and situate it perfectly for what we were before eager for. No lubrication was needed; his leaking precum was enough to coat himself, with the help of my hand. He slid in easily, his fingers already loosening the sphincter. Moaning, I grasped my own cock, trying to pinch back my climax. At first, his strokes were slow, easy, and painful in their simplicity. I threw back my head, close to begging for more. Zeus’ chest fell upon my back as one hand reached beneath me to remove my hand and take over, teasing me, as the other hand tangled in my hair and yanked my head back far enough for him to kiss the soft and tender skin of my neck and nibble on my ear.
Only when I started to writhe, whimper, and silently beg, my mouth wide open, did Zeus release both my hair and cock. Shifting forward, pressing fully into me, he took me in earnest – our bodies slapped together rhythmically, loudly, my cock flopping all around, its weight pulling on my hardened balls. I braced myself on the bed, the thin sheet clutched in my hands, my knuckles white with the effort to hold on. When, at last, Zeus pumped me hard, with long, deep caresses, stilling with his release, did I let my own cock spew. My cum coated the sheet. His warmed me inside.
“You are perfect.” Zeus lessened his hold on my hips and allowed me to fall to the bed, flat. Lying down beside me, he tucked a few strands of my sweat-slick hair behind my ears. “I must go, now. Promise me you’ll stay in the house tomorrow, please?”
“My lord, why?” I frowned at him; he looked so serious, brow all furrowed, after our exploits. “You said you couldn’t tell me, but why?”
“Just promise me. I can’t lose you.”
I shook my head, wanting so much to make him tell me. It was such a strange request. Usually, he asked me to go riding or hunting in the forest around the city so he could admire me from Olympus. He’d never asked me to stay inside, unable to be seen by him, watched by him, and prized by him. So strange. “I promise.”
He stood, then, gathered his discarded tunic and cloak, re-donned them, and after a sensuous kiss, his thick tongue tasting mine, left.


Though the sun was well above the line of the horizon, the quick rap on my door still woke me from a deep and comfortable sleep. I stretched my limbs, feeling the bedsheets crumple and crack beneath me instead of slide seductively and at once remembered why I found myself just now stirring. A night with the king of gods will do that to a boy. The smile that crossed my lips was pure cheekiness.
“Ganymede, damn boy, get up!” Assaracus’ first light rap of knuckles on the door had now turned to full-fist blows upon the rather weak wood. From my bed, through the split curtain separating my room from the rest of the apartment, I could just make out the rippling of the wooden beam he was focusing his attention on.
“Stop banging on the door, brother, I’m up!” I stood from the bed, grabbed my tunic, a little wrinkled from spending the night in a heap on the floor, donned it quickly and strode to greet my brother, making sure the curtain was tucked fully across the archway.
I opened the door a few inches in time to see Assaracus mimicking my own words dramatically. “What do you need?”
“Ilus sent me.” With those few words, I opened my door wider and stepped aside to let my brother in. This was not going to be good news. With Ilus involved, it rarely was.
“I’m going to need to make another trip along the coast to Prokonnessos aren’t I?”
“Seems so. Apparently, the latest shipment of marble isn’t quite up to standards. ‘I tell you, Assaracus, look at this grain! Within a month, the entire altar will be pocked. Fit for the gods, my balls!’ Do you know what he’s talking about because I sure don’t?” My brother’s ability to impersonate was truly uncanny. And, when not me, hysterical!
“Doesn’t even matter if we did understand. We’d be doing his bidding regardless.”
“That means you’ll meet him at the shipyard, right? Because I’m not leaving here until that’s your answer.” All hilarity gone, Assaracus’ face was serious. Ilus was our brother, and as such, fair game for a little fraternal teasing, but as the city’s main engineer, the entire population’s savior, and our only hope for greatness, his commands were as imperial as the king’s. Perhaps even more so, lately.
“Of course.”
“Good luck, then, brother. Safe travels.”
After Assaracus left, I returned to my room, ripped the linen from the bed, and tossed it in the basket beside the door. I would have to drop the full basket off at the launderer on my way down to the port. Picking up my satchel, I filled it with another tunic, another pair of shoes, an extra cloak, and length of linen. Then, donning my usual, weatherworn and faded, travelling cloak, I picked up both the basket and satchel and headed out.
The walk was quick, downhill most of the way. Before reaching the port, I took a left, toward Ilus’ studio. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d be there, that’s where he spent all his time these days. Well, not days, more like years. Bent over the tilted table, drawing. Designing the city walls, the tiled roofs, and the palace spires: seeking perfection in the man-made world. I didn’t even bother knocking on the heavy wooden door, stepped swung it wide and stepped in, dropping my satchel heavily.
“… the sacrifice is too big, lord.”
“Nevertheless, I will be expecting it.” The booming voice echoed through the small chamber, drawing my eyes to the faint glow before my brother’s kneeling form. The voice was so similar to Zeus’ deep rumble, I almost called out to my lover. But, something was off, something… fishy. I smelled a hint of the ocean wafting through the otherwise stuffy room. Well, of course, the brothers would share the same commanding, husky tone, full of worldly wisdom and expected obedience.
Silence greeted Ilus’ whispered plea. The radiance faded completely.
Minutes passed before Ilus turned to face me. Although obviously shocked at my presence, his face only momentarily belied his surprise. He recovered quickly, addressing me, “Assaracus told you? Good, then I assume that bag is yours.” His direct, slightly condescending glance flicked to my satchel. “Be careful. Don’t forget to pass along my grievances to the stonemason. “
“What? No offer of a sacrifice…” Ilus flinched at the word,  “you know, brother, for safe sailing.”
“Ganymede, don’t be foolish…”
“And think I saw you speaking – er, arguing – with the god of the sea?” I grinned at him. “I don’t think pissing off the gods would be your wisest move at this point in your career.”
“The wall…”
“I don’t want to know. Just be sure to make your amends before I set sail. I’m not too fond of drowning because of you.” I left then, not waiting for his response. In the end, it wouldn’t matter what he said. Egocentric. Evermore.
The rest of the walk to the shipyard was uneventful, as was the equipping of the Syrian freighter for our short, coastal, circumnavigation to Prokonnessos. To fetch back Ilus’ perfect stone, for the city’s perfect altar.


The last thought which whisked through my mind before the wave crashed down over the railing of the ship and swept, like a torrent, across the deck, taking at least one man with it – screaming, half gurgling the salty water – were Zeus’ words the previous night. Promise me you’ll stay in the house tomorrow. Why had I not obeyed my lord and master? My white-knuckled grip on the edge of the stairwell leading into the storage bay was weakening with each passing wallop. Poseidon was no doubt taking his sacrifice, us, for Ilus’ blasphemy. One brother for the other; one life devastated for the sins of a kinsman. Ilus, you idiot!
The ship heaved suddenly, as if striking a rocky shoreline, creaking and groaning. For a moment, the sloshing waves ceased and the few of us men still hanging on, managed to catch sight of each other, eyes wide, fear clear. The ship settled again, hard, into the sea, definitely listing to the stern. Slowly, we all felt the freighter begin the tortuous slip into capsizing. Unable to swim, too far from shore to float on debris, we were doomed. The screams came unbidden from throats raw with salt.
I closed my gritty eyes, the pain too intense even to cry out. And, I prayed. An eternity passed.
The roughness of the wood beneath me vibrated with a wrenching impact and the screech of ripping lumber. I was dead. No escape. Cold water seeped into my veins. Then, suddenly, I felt a sharp, piercing pain in the muscles of my shoulder. I was dangling, legs flailing in the air, my weight supported by something large above me, intermittent gusts lashing my face from each side. Death and water retreated and the wind froze my dripping body. Peeking from behind bloodshot lids, I saw only calm skies around me and a whipping whirlpool below. My ship was gone. My friends and shipmates nothing more than specks of vanishing color in blue-green brine.
With a funereal sigh, I passed out.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Free Kindle eBook on Amazon - February 19, 2014

Always check price before purchase as cost may have changed.

Taken by the Amazons

Hector is a young warrior taking care of the family farm while his father is ill. His farm life is peaceful until a band of Amazon Warriors attacks the local village.

It is breeding season for the Amazons and they are looking for temporary mates. Hector and other villagers not killed in the attack are captured and taken to a faraway territory. Inside the Amazon kingdom Hector and his people must undergo grueling tests and training if they want to live. Will he survive? Is Hector ready for these challenges that will test his manhood and challenge his notion of self?

Taken by the Amazons contains graphic sexual content intended for adults only.

Word count approx. 3000 words. - check out my other books!

Excerpt and description taken from Amazon site.

Literotica, erotic literature, free & online for adults

Do you know about Literotica?

You should. I won't tell you that all the stories are good because, honestly, some are just plain awful. However, a lot of them are really good. These are more like one-shot shorts, than short stories or even chapter books. Not much in the way of plot, but lots of heat and passion.

Got you interested, did I? Then, my job is done.

Mythology related stories can be found here.