Memories & Kisses
by
Muffy Wilson
(@SexyMuffyWilson)
Thank you so much for coming to my release. I think I
have fallen in love with the girl on the cover of my latest book, Memories & Kisses. She is beautiful,
of course, but what really attracts me is her mystery. I’m sure it is no
accident that she uses bright red lipstick. Take a casual glance at her
picture, and you are caught by that luscious, loveable mouth. Who does she
kiss? Just one lover? Or several? Does she kiss men or perhaps women? Would she
kiss me on the right evening?
What do you think? Is she thinking about memories of love
lost? Perhaps the memories made trying to forget a lost love? Even old memories
revisited by old friends, united in a kiss that rekindles flames, passions and
desire, too. Old memories are like old red wine - all the richer for time
passed. And the kisses taste sweeter too. Three romantic and very sexy
stories take us back to things as they once were, and forward to the wonderful
times to come.
Memories &
Kisses has three stories of old loves remembered; a grieving woman rescued
from the sea, two childhood friends growing old friendship into passionate
loving, and two long separated teenagers finding that time has mellowed them
both and maturity has brought a passionate intensity they had never imagined.
All three stories are of rekindled love that survived decades of longing and is
now ready to burst into flame.
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| Published by Yellow Silk Dreams |
Blurb:
The Storm ~ a
newly widowed woman unable to face the world alone and lonely, buries her
husband. Overcome by grief, she walks into the rough, grinding pitiless surf in
an effort to blend the gray in her heart with the gray on the horizon. She is
saved from the crashing waves by a man, a bearded white haired man who brings
her back to life and gives her a reason to live again.
The Park ~ two
childhood friends, now adults, reunite on the eve of the dedication of their
once favorite playground now slated to become a high-tech water park. The
destruction of their favorite playground makes them melancholy; reliving their
dreams as children in this park inspires them to greater, more passionate long
buried desires they never responded to as teens, but knew existed but in their
memories.
The Story of Us
~ high school friends, once nearly sweethearts, reconnect in their sixties. The
Internet removes the veil of uncomfortable shyness. They are open and revealing
in emails about their youthful teenaged desires for one another. They discover
what we all hope is true: that love is eternal. Surviving decades, not only in
the shadowed recesses of our memories, but in a kiss, a touch, a magnetic
embrace love thrives.
Do you have
memories of a love that once was?...of a love that was lost?...of, perhaps, a
rekindled love that survived decades of longing?
Buy Links:
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/memories-kisses
BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/memories-and-kisses-muffy-wilson/1120494304
BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/memories-and-kisses-muffy-wilson/1120494304
Excerpt from The
Storm:
I walk to
the surf, heaving for breath, weak from running against the rain, fighting the
storm, the sadness, my loss - your death. I walk into the surf and keep
walking. It is surprisingly warm and enveloping. I suddenly feel comforted, my
heartbreak no longer a penetrating pain. I know you are with me and I seek out
your embrace. I cry again, scream at the thunderous surf, and then I am gone. I
can’t breathe and I am falling, rolling, tumbling in a hazy grey darkness that
is wet, ferocious, demanding. Suddenly my dizzy comfort turns to fear and I
struggle against the pounding, relentless waves. What have I done? I am a good
swimmer and an athlete, but can I beat this? Instinct overcomes me. My heart
pounds. I start to kick wildly. Moving my arms toward the surface, the current
catches me again, tumbling me over and over. My lungs burn. I lose my
bearing—which way is up, down? I start to get a sickening feeling of death, my
own impending death, and, just as I start to give in, I feel the hand of God
grab my hair and hood in a fierce grip and yank me to the surface. I feel the
sky darken and the surf diminish. Everything tastes salty, gritty, and then my
body heaves, relaxed, and my world goes black.
I awake to
pounding on my chest; I am being rattled and something is covering my mouth and
nose. I cough, retch, and then vomit the last vestiges of the ocean from my
body. My mouth is filled with grit, sand, and the salty taste of taffy. I open
my eyes and see God reaching down toward me. He leans over me and the salty
ocean water drips from his face to mine. He is big, strong, and gasping; he is
surrounded in a glowing aura which intensifies his white hair and white beard.
I am frightened. I must be dead. But that cannot be! How foolish I am. He sits
me up, tenderly and gently helps me to my feet, all the while holding me
securely with large strong hands and then he speaks to me.
“Are you
alright, miss? You scared me near to death when I saw you walk into the surf.
Why in the world….Where do you live?”
I am alive
to my senses.
“Wha. . . ?” My knees weaken and I fall
further into his arms. Quickly, he catches my descent and carries me to a bench
where he sits me down, moving the errant curls of hair from my cheeks, and
speaks to me again.
“Where are
you staying? Shall I call the police?”
I can feel
my heart pounding against his chest.
“No,
please, I’m . . . I’ll be fine. My key, my pocket; it’s in my pocket. Please…”
I can’t
remember my hotel or where I am or why. As he unzips my pocket and removes my
hotel key, he pulls my hood up over my head to shelter my face from the pelting
rain. Collecting me under his arm, my body firmly in his grip, we walk slowly
back to the hotel. The traffic is still sparse, no taxis to be seen. It seems to
take forever. The storm is so much worse, the surf so high, sucking the wind
into the watery folds as it retreats to the ocean. At once, I am so scared that
I begin to tremble and yet, I feel protected.
As we walk
into the hotel lobby, the bell captain approaches us and asks if I need the
hotel doctor, whereupon my guardian says, “No, that won’t be necessary, thank
you.” We take the elevator to my floor and I am finally in the sanctity of my
room, as lonely as it is. My savior, my hero sits me in the desk chair while he
goes to the bathroom and starts the shower. He returns. He is saying something
to me that I can’t understand, but he starts to take my shoes off. Then he
leans me forward, removes my windbreaker and sports bra, and helps me stand
while he pulls relentlessly at my wet spandex knee-highs. He kicks off his own
running shoes and removes his blazer. He carries me to the shower but I feel as
if I’m watching the scene unfold from outside my own body. I am unafraid of
this stranger.
The water
is hot and piercing, but he is gentle, loving, and tender. He bathes me and
washes my hair, lifting the removable nozzle to rinse the sand, grit, and
seaweed from my hair and lithe body. My skin is a deep pink from the intense
extreme of the cold grasp of the ocean and the heated comfort of the hot
shower. His hands are everywhere, on every curve, gently caressing my skin with
his soapy fingertips. He deftly, tenderly, washes my breasts, my taunt stomach
and pussy. He controls himself, but I can’t let him stop. I look up at him, and
notice he is watching himself bathe me. He seems to caress my buttocks as he
cleans the sand from between my rounded cheeks. Unembarrassed, he rinses my
body thoroughly, running his fingers though my shoulder-length brown hair. I
feel safe, warmed, yet surprisingly aroused, weakened by my ordeal.
For the first
time, it seems, he looks down at me. He takes me in as I look up at him,
transfixed by his control. I am naked in my sorrow and my pain; he, fully
clothed except for his windbreaker and shoes, smiles, touching my heart. I did
not notice his erection in the shower, he is a complete gentleman. My breasts,
the curve of my belly to my thigh, my face against his chest glisten in the
shower, as I trust him to help me.
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| 5 Star Reader Rating |
Author Bio:
Returning from France with her
family, Muffy finished high
school in Northern California and attended the University of
California, Davis, and majored
in
Business Management. Muffy entered the work force, independent with a fierce
work ethic, and retired at 39 from IBM as a Mid-West Regional Director in the
Real Estate and Construction Division. She and her husband moved to a small Island
in northern Wisconsin where they owned a historic tavern, restaurant and resort
business which they since have sold. They now live a charmed life by the water
in SW Florida. Muffy
pretends to be a serious real estate business person but, in real life,
indulges her private interest in writing sexy short stories and sensual
literotica ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion.
Links:
Website | Blog | Twitter | Email | Facebook | FB Fan Page
| Google+ | Amazon
| Ganxy | XinXii | Kobo Books
| iTunes Books | Barnes and Noble | Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing |
Released 3 October 2014:
Also featuring Muffy's work in this anthology of of adult Grimm's Fairy Tales, Once Upon a Menage: An Anthology of Fairy Tale Threesomes edited by Rachel Kenley (Ravenous Romance), Muffy has two erotic adaptations, The Prince, The Mermaid and The Siren ('The Little Mermaid') and The Prurient Puss ('Puss and Boots'). They are sexy, just a little naughty and best of all, they are threesomes!!
Buy Link at Amazon
Previously Published Muffy Wilson:
Oysters
& Chocolate, Decadent Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Yellow Silk Dreams
Muffy Wilson
Stories about Love, Sex, Hope, and Passion
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I was born when we kissed; I died when we parted. I lived in your embrace while we loved..........