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Showing posts with label GLBT books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GLBT books. Show all posts

Monday, September 12, 2016

'The Lunatic, The Lover, and The Poet' by Myrlin A. Hermes

Let’s talk about The Lunatic, The Lover, and The Poet by Myrlin A. Hermes, because this book blew my mind. Be warned there may be SPOILERS in this post.


I learned about it from this post.

I couldn’t get it out of my head. Books that have well-rounded bisexual characters are few and far between anyway, and this novel’s locating its 2011 Lambda Literary Award-winning bisexual character within an exceedingly thorough re-imagining of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet made this a must-have inside my greedy little brain.

Hermes gives us a love triangle between Hamlet, Horatio, and her original character Adriane, Baroness of Maricourt. It’s not a love vee, in which Hamlet and Horatio are each separately in love with Adriane. Horatio is in love with Hamlet, Hamlet is in love with Horatio, Horatio is also in love with Adriane, and Adriane is using them both in an intricate chess game for her own literary and personal ends.


Adriane. Oh, Adriane. She’s a difficult woman, and she tries extremely hard to turn Hamlet and Horatio against each other (at the same time she’s trying to make their love immortal in poetry), but you can’t end up hating her. Like Lady Macbeth before her, she has to do what a woman has to do for her ambition’s sake. Unlike Lady Macbeth, she won’t have to live to regret it, and she won’t be punished by the author for it.

Recognizable lines from Macbeth are woven into the dialogue and narration of this novel, as are lines from a number of Shakespeare’s most famous sonnets and other plays. Sometimes they’re consciously created by the characters as they’re creating art within the context of the novel, and sometimes they come up in more organic ways from the plot. Sometimes Shakespeare feeds Myrlin A. Hermes a straight line and she turns it into a dirty joke, in the same way that Shakespeare plays with his characters.

That’s some of the beauty and brilliance of Hermes’ writing. Although it’s written in prose, the whole thing feels like poetry in blank verse. This is astounding work.

Ophelia still gets the short end of the stick, alas.* She doesn’t drown, and she does live long enough to marry Hamlet and become Denmark’s queen. She even produces an heir, although the little boy dies from an accidental wound. It’s implied he may have hemophilia, which of course is something that historically affected the real royal houses of Europe, after too many centuries of intermarriage between cousins.

Incest is a creeping theme throughout the novel. Hamlet is rumored to have an incestuous relationship with his own mother, although Hermes never gives the reader any reason to believe this is true. Gertrude is certainly unsure which brother is Hamlet’s biological father – Hamlet the Elder or Claudius – although this doesn’t make any genetic difference, since they’re identical twins. The cheeky undertaker at the end of the novel tells Horatio, in unnecessarily vague terms, that the king is marrying his sister – what he means is that King Claudius is marrying his sister-in-law.

Yet it may actually be the case when Hamlet marries Ophelia that he is marrying his own half-sister. A small portion of this novel is told by Polonius talking to Laertes. Polonius – whose name literally means that he is a Polish guy – tells his son that he, Polonius, was a minor prince in his native land, although he was the youngest son who was never going to inherit any kind of throne. When Hamlet the Elder conquered Poland, not only did his men kill all of Polonius’s older brothers on the battlefield, but Hamlet the Elder also took Polonius’s wife, Aphelia. Polonius and Aphelia were married but, because she was still a young teenager, their marriage wasn’t consummated. Aphelia became Hamlet’s concubine, and it’s possible Laertes and his sister Ophelia are both Hamlet the Elder’s biological children.

Hamlet the Younger marrying his bio sister? Sounds like an acting job for Benedict Cumberbatch, who has both played Hamlet on stage and, as a character in the film version of August: Osage County, has unknowingly had a sexual affair with probable his half sister. (And not even in a bad way. Ivy and Little Charles and two of the only humane characters in that grim Tracy Letts play. ‘Tis pity they are whores*.)

Someday I’ll discover why Letts keeps setting his plays in the Plains States, which he is from and seems to hate.

Hamlet isn’t my favorite of Shakespeare’s tragedies – I understand and enjoy Macbeth better. (I recently saw the 2015 film adaptation with Michael Fassbender and Marion Cotillard. I thought she was gorgeous and brilliant as Lady Macbeth, but I didn’t want Duncan to die, not only because he doesn’t deserve it but also because he was David Thewlis, the actor who played Remus Lupin in the Harry Potter movies. I still have issues with Remus and Tonks’ sad deaths.) That said, I found myself heavily invested in the romantic relationship between Hamlet and Horatio. I’m glad they got to be together long after Ophelia’s unprocessed grief over her child’s death sent her to a nunnery for long-term mental health care.

http://thatwritererinoriordan.tumblr.com/post/128423110740/brain-drops-soul-winks-promotional-posters-for#notes
At first Horatio is conflicted about his own bisexuality. He’s wildly attracted to Hamlet when Hamlet dresses as a female character in the play Horatio has written, but rejects Hamlet’s amorous advances out of deference to his upbringing in the church, even though Horatio is not a religious man. Later, when he believes Hamlet has drugged them both with belladonna and intends to kill them both, sex becomes a lifeline for them. Horatio eventually has to admit he loves Adriane physically, but the lifelong commitment of his heart he reserves exclusively for the Danish prince. Lady Adriane is Horatio’s first love, but Hamlet is his true love. Hamlet, surprisingly (for he is infamously fickle with Ophelia, including in this version), reciprocates the depth of Horatio’s feeling.

Get that: They are two bisexual men who commit themselves to each other, and neither one of them has to be killed off violently and tragically. See, TV? Writers can do that. It’s possible to let same-sex lovers grow old together and die of natural causes.

This is a beautiful, poetic, and sexy book, with complicated characters we think we know exposed from entirely new angles.

The titular allusion, by the way, is to a line spoken by Theseus in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

*That’s supposed to be remedied in a film starring the English actress Daisy Ridley, who stars in the most recently released Star Wars film.

*I'm not really judging them. That’s me showing off that I know the plot of the 17th-century John Ford play ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore includes a brother-sister pair who commit intentional incest. In August: Osage County, only Ivy knows her cousin is probably also her brother.


John Ford is probably not related to Ford Madox Ford, the English poet, novelist, and critic who wrote Parade’s End, a novel series turned into a Downton Abbey-esque drama for British television. The protagonist, Christopher (“Chrissie”) Tietjans, marries a monumentally inconsiderate woman who is pregnant with a child that may or may not be his, then falls in love with a saucy Women’s Suffragist. It’s an Edwardian disaster and possibly semi-autobiographical. I’ve been watching it in small doses. 

http://thatwritererinoriordan.tumblr.com/post/150032747400/somanyperioddramas-parades-end-tv-series

Because Benedict Cumberbatch.  

Saturday, May 2, 2015

'Science, Scripture, and Same-Sex Love' by Michael B. Regele

Science, Scripture, and Same-Sex LoveScience, Scripture, and Same-Sex Love by Michael B Regele

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The author, Michael B. Regele, is a pastor and the father of a woman who happens to be a lesbian. I couldn't quite follow each and every one of his arguments - I am far from being a Christian Biblical scholar, although I am a veteran of Catholic schools - but I get the main ideas.

This book isn't perfect, but Regele at least understands some of its limitations. For one, he uses "homosexuality" as an umbrella term to include gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and other queer people (pansexuals and polysexuals, for example - terms which Regele himself does not use). This focus on a term most commonly associated with gay men does an obvious disservice to the rest of the colors of the rainbow. (It's symptomatic of a society-wide concern with men's experience at the expense of the experiences of women and agender/third-gendered individuals.) But acknowledging the shortcoming is at least a start.

His main conclusion, summed up well in the book's second-to-last chapter, is that there is a Biblical basis for believing and acting as if loving, life-affirming, non-exploitative, long-term relationships between two people of the same sex can be moral. The arguments used in this book are scientific, Biblical, historical (acknowledging that the practice of same-sex sexuality was vastly culturally different in the Apostolic era than in our own), and ethical. Regele writes, "...one can conclude that the Bible is silent on the forms of committed same-sex relationships that are at the center of the modern discussion."

Did you hear that, Memories Pizza of Walkerton, Indiana? There is no Biblical basis for the belief that it would be morally wrong to cater a same-sex wedding. I'm a bisexual woman married to heterosexual man, and I like pizza - am I allowed to have a pizza or not?

While this book won't necessarily appeal to a general audience that doesn't specifically have a Christian worldview, many Christians will find it engaging food for thought.

I received this book from the Amazon Vine program in exchange for this review, which represents my own honest opinion.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

'Great' By Sara Benincasa: Gender-Swapped, Contemporary 'The Great Gatsby' Retelling

GreatGreat by Sara Benincasa

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

What I liked about this book: In Sara Benincasa's young adult retelling of The Great Gatsby, Nick Carraway's stand-in is Naomi Rye, the Chicago-bred daughter of an upwardly mobile cupcake magnate who now summers in the Hamptons. (Rye - caraway seed - get it?) Her Gatsby is her mother's mysterious next-door neighbor, Jacinta Trimalchio, rarely seen in public but famous in the fashion world for her high-end style blog.

Jacinta's Daisy Buchanan is aspiring supermodel/congressperson's daughter Delilah Fairweather. Delilah and Jacinta were friends in primary school, then drifted apart, only to reunite in a flower-filled room in Jacinta's mansion.

They become a couple even though Delilah has a boyfriend. The Tom Buchanan of this story is Teddy Barrington, who was a child sitcom star. Teddy's Myrtle Wilson is a waitress named Misti, and Misti's George is a bartender named Giovanni.

Having some of the characters in this American classic be gender-swapped was a refreshing twist on an old favorite. Nice touch: Naomi spends an afternoon reading Save Me the Waltz. Benincasa doesn't mention the author's name, but the "old novel" happens to be the only extant work by Zelda Fitzgerald.

What could have been improved about this book: F. Scott Fitzgerald's writing in The Great Gatsby is so literary it's almost poetic. Fitzgerald's wistful, thematic prose has here been replaced with nuts-and-bolts storytelling that's not quite as much fun. Benincasa's narration in the voice of Naomi is rough in some places, inelegant in others, and downright clunky in some spots. Places where the narrator seemed much older than her supposedly 16 years, where she said things only us grown-ups would say, took me out of the story.


Not great: As narrator, Naomi refers to boys and girls as gay and to girls as lesbian. She seems to think Delilah's relationship with Jacinta makes Delilah a lesbian, but obviously that isn't necessarily the case. She's been in a long-term relationship with Teddy for years, so Delilah seems to be bisexual/pansexual. While it's not a requirement for every person to wear his or her sexuality label on his or her sleeve, it's not acceptable to pretend as if gay/lesbian or straight are the only sexualities that exist. Say no to bi erasure, kittens.

Overall, this was a fun book because of the thrill of the familiar, beloved classic American novel, combined with a new setting and new personality traits among the characters. If you haven't read The Great Gatsby but you saw the Leo movie and liked it, you'll probably think this is a pretty good book.

P.S. I looooove the Leo movie.

View all my reviews on Goodreads. I received an ARC of this book free from Amazon Vine in exchange for a review. This review represents my own honest opinion.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Out Now – Desert Heat by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #romance #gay #mm #military


Blurb:

Their love is forbidden by rules, religion and risk. Yet still they can’t resist.

Captain Hugh Wilkes is on his last tour of duty in Afghanistan. The British Army is withdrawing, and Wilkes expects his posting to be event-free. That is, until he meets his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, who awakens desires in Wilkes that he’d almost forgotten about, and that won’t be ignored.

Please note: this book was previously published as part of the Unconditional Surrender bundle.

Buy links:



Excerpt:

Captain Hugh Wilkes sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself for the heat he was about to be subjected to, though he already knew all the deep breaths in the world wouldn’t help. Darkness had fallen on Camp Bastion, in the notorious Helmand Province of Afghanistan, but there would still be residual warmth left to seep away throughout the small hours. Then the sun would rise, and it would start all over again. It was a damn desert, after all. But, all being well, it would be his last ever tour of the godforsaken place. The British Army was already preparing to pull out. The manpower had been reduced drastically over the previous months. It was time to leave the Afghans to get on with it. They weren’t being abandoned—far from it—they would still receive aid, training and money for years to come. But the British Army was no longer needed, apparently. It was still a volatile place, which would no doubt be monitored very closely, in case strategies needed to be reconsidered.

None of that was down to Wilkes, though. He was here with his platoon for six months, doing whatever they were ordered to do by their Company Commander, Major Hunter. It was unlikely they’d be doing any fighting—they weren’t here for offensive operations. More probably they’d be accompanying their vehicles, weapons and ammunition across the country as it was transported to the air base to be sent back home, or patrolling towns and villages as a show of presence, to reassure and protect the inhabitants.

There was only one way to find out. Grabbing his kit, he headed toward the ramp of the huge C17 aircraft with his colleagues, and followed them out onto the airstrip. Immediately, he was hit by the overwhelming smell of aviation fuel. As he moved away from the airplane this was replaced by the dry atmosphere.

Wilkes imagined he could feel the grains of sand coating his throat and tongue. He’d soon get used to it—he always did. Plus, on the bright side, he’d end up with a nice tan at the end of his deployment.

Mentally, he crossed his fingers for a nice, event-free tour of duty. Letting his guard down wasn’t going to happen, naturally, he just hoped it wasn’t necessary. Hoped the insurgents would play nicely. The country was completely different to how it had been when Allied forces had gone in after 9/11. Some fantastic progress had been made, but it still wasn’t completely safe. But then, where was? People died in picturesque villages in the English countryside—though generally not courtesy of IEDs, AK-47s or suicide bombers.

Author Bio:


Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica ForAll, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9



Sunday, November 16, 2014

'Pray the Gay Away,' Despite Its Title, Is a Pro-#LGBTQIA Romance

Pray The Gay Away (A Southern Thing, #1)Pray The Gay Away by Sara York

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I enjoyed this young adult/high school romance novel about the new kid in town who gets involved with a popular football player. The edition I read has some typos, but I didn't think they distracted me too much from the story. The author can also get a little heavy-handed with the "prejudice against gay teenagers is bad" message, but that's okay too, because I really liked Andrew (the new kid) and Jack (the jock) as characters.

But I also understand why these kinds of stories are important, because sadly, abusive parents are still an issue faced by LGBTQIA youth. (ALERT: Jack's father is physically abusive toward him, and Andrew's parents punish him by starving him. This book may be a trigger if you are sensitive to reading about abuse and/or issues around eating.)

This is only the first book in a series, though. I hope Jack and Andrew get the happily-ever-after they're planning for and dreaming of. They're really a good couple. What York has written especially well in this novel is the gradual way the guys go from physical attraction to falling in love. It's realistic and it makes for a satisfying reading experience too.



I downloaded this book to my Barnes and Noble Nook when it was available for free on the B+N website. I was not compensated for this review, which represents my own honest opinion.

Bonus: You can change the name "Jack" to "Dean" and "Andrew" to "Castiel" and read this as a Destiel high school AU.

View all my reviews on Goodreads and check out Sara York's blog

Monday, May 12, 2014

Cover Reveal for Enticing Hart by Mae Hancock

Enticing Hart is due for release on 30th May



Hart Emile is tired of cruising for guys, living a soulless existence. He needs a change, so when an acquaintance gives him the number of the Red Fox Ranch, a homestead looking for staff, he heads south hoping to spend the summer somewhere beautiful and hassle free. Little does he know, he is heading for trouble...
Oak Redman is eighteen years old and desperate to explore his awakening sexuality. The moment Hart lays eyes on the handsome young rancher he knows he could be in for a wild summer! 
Not only is Oak hot, spirited and very persistent, he is also the ranch boss's son and strictly off limits! Hart tries to fight his feelings and respect his boss and the family who quickly become dear to him but can he deny himself the most exciting and enticing man he has ever met?



Author Bio

I’ve always written stories and enjoy reading all types of literature from thrillers to romance. I’m interested in people who experience social marginalization and these are often themes that appear in my stories. I’ve written erotic literature for pleasure for a long time, but it’s only recently I’ve put romance and erotica together and found I enjoy writing about the exciting journey we all go on when falling in love. My interests include cultural history, particularly in the Greek and Roman worlds. 

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Review (Nonfiction) of 'The Girls: Sappho Goes to Hollywood'

The Girls: Sappho Goes to Hollywood by Diana McLellan:


How was I supposed to resist a title like that?

This is the allegedly true, research-based story of Hollywood's two most famous LGBTQIA actresses of the 1930s, Ms. Greta Garbo and Ms. Marlene Dietrich. Neither woman self-identified as lesbian, bisexual, or pansexual during her lifetime, so I have to state for the record that it's a bit unfair to label them after their deaths, when they lived in a very different world than we do now. However, there is ample evidence to support that both women had ongoing romantic relationships with women and men. Dietrich's affairs seem to fit the bi/pan label more closely - she didn't seem to have much of a preference either way - while Garbo seems to have had a preference for women over men.

And yes, it does appear that at one point, they had a romantic relationship with each other.

Both are name-checked in Madonna's iconic hit "Vogue," but what did I really know about Dietrich and Garbo, whose best films were made in the 1930s, when my grandmothers were little girls? I'd read a little about Dietrich's sexy, androgynous, ice-blonde persona in film studies and media studies books and articles over the years. I don't think I've ever seen one of her movies.

Dietrich in 1933. Creative Commons image from the German Federal Archives
Dietrich, who was born in Germany, is perhaps best remembered for the movie The Blue Angel. In it, she plays a character named Lola Lola who seduces a professor. In the English-language version, she performs a song called "Falling in Love Again," which became her signature song. Her first name is a contraction of the first name she was given at birth, Marie Magdalene. She died in 1992.

Garbo in 1924. Public domain image. 
I know I've seen at least one Greta Garbo movie on the big screen - Anna Karenina (not the silent version, but the talkie), when I was a student at St. Mary's. I enjoyed it. Greta Garbo was born in Sweden. In addition to playing the title role in Anna Karenina, she is also known for her film Camille, based on the play by Alexandre Dumas fils. In her personal life, she was known for the great deal of secrecy around her, to the point that she was somewhat reclusive in her later years in New York City. She died in 1990.

According to The American Women's Almanac, Louise Brooks said about Garbo, "She made a pass at me." About Brooks, the silent film star who popularized the "bob" hairstyle for women, Wikipedia says she made friends with lesbian and bisexual women, and experimented sexually with them - including Garbo - but did not consider herself to be lesbian or bisexual.

Louise Brooks. U.S. Library of Congress, George Grantham Bain Collection. No known restrictions on image usage rights
Some of the other fascinating characters in Garbo and Dietrich's "sewing circle," according to this book, include:

Emma Goldman: Goldman can perhaps be considered the founder of the "sewing circle" of lesbian and bisexual women in the U.S. theater and film communities. She was an ethnic Jewish woman born in what is now part of Lithuania, but which at the time was part of the Russian Empire.

Goldman in 1886. Public domain image
Moving to the U.S., she was an editor and orator whose causes included anarchy, reproductive rights, and gay and lesbian rights. She was said to have inspired the man who assassinated U.S. President William McKinley, although it was not her intention to do so. Goldman was strong critic of marriage and advocate of free love, and among her many lovers was, allegedly, Alla Nazimova.

Alla Nazimova: Born Miriam Leventon in Yalta, Crimea - the province that only a few weeks ago was taken over by Russia, although legally speaking it is part of Ukraine - the Jewish woman emigrated to the United States, where she became a theatrical and film actress. She is alleged to have had sexual relationships with a number of women, including Goldman, Eva La Galliene, Mercedes de Acosta, and Oscar Wilde's niece Dolly.

Nazimova, photographed by Maurice Goldberg in 1922. Public domain
She appeared in the silent-film version of Camille opposite Rudolph Valentino and possibly carried on affairs with both Valentino's first wife and his second wife, Natacha Rambova. Nazimova was married to two men, resulting in two divorces. Toward the end of her life, her domestic partner was a woman named Glesca Marshall.

Nazimova was also known for generously helping other women launch their acting careers. Among the women she helped to get started in film was Anna May Wong. Nazimova continued working throughout her life. She appeared with a young Montgomery Clift - they played mother and son - in a stage play titled The Mother.

Natacha Rambova: Despite her Russian name, which she gave herself during her years as a ballerina, Rambova was an American of Irish descent. She worked on the set of Camille as a set and costume designer. She served as art director on a number of Hollywood productions, and later had some success as a fashion designer. She may or may not have been bisexual - Valentino was almost certainly bisexual or, perhaps, preferred men to women and was actually gay. Being a gay male was considered more taboo than being a lesbian or bisexual women, even in the relatively forgiving climate of the Hollywood Gilded Age.

Valentino and Rambova. Thought to be in the public domain; photographer unknown
What can be said with certainty about Rambova is that she was a spiritualist. McLellan's research indicated to her that later in her life, Greta Garbo sought out Rambova for seances. Garbo had remained friendly with Ramon Novarro, the Mexican-American actor who'd starred with her in Mata Hari. Novarro was friends with Rambova, and Garbo asked Novarro to arrange for her to meet Rambova for a seance. Novarro invited a crowd, though, which spooked Garbo, and she ran off without ever meeting Rambova.

Novarro, photographed by Carl Van Vechten. The Library of Congress believes this image is in the public domain
That Novarro and Valentino were lovers is a bit of an old Hollywood legend. The legend goes that Valentino, famously well-endowed, gave Novarro a sex toy modeled after Valentino's own privates. Sadly, Novarro lost his life in 1968. He let two men into his home for the purpose of having sex with them, but they mistakenly believed he was hiding a large sum of money in the home. They beat and tortured him for hours trying to get him to say where the money was hidden, but he had none. They left him for dead, taking only $20 with them. He choked to death on his own blood as a result of the beating, probably unconscious. A Hollywood urban legend held that Novarro had choked to death as a result of Valentino's gift being forced down his throat, but this has no basis in fact.

Fun Rambova fact: In the Ken Russell film Valentino, she was played by Michelle Phillips of The Mamas and The Papas.

Eva La Galliene: Unlike the women mentioned above, La Galliene was never "in the closet." She lived openly as a lesbian during her own lifetime. La Galliene was an English theatrical actress whose mother was a Danish journalist. Her father was a French poet. La Galliene is said to have carried on a 5-year affair with Mercedes de Acosta.

La Galliene's acting credits include playing the White Queen in the 1955 TV-movie version of Alice in Wonderland.

Mercedes de Acosta: de Acosta was an American poet, playwright, and novelist of Spanish and Cuban descent. She was one of Garbo's closest friends and, according to McLellan, carried on romantic relationships with both Garbo and Dietrich. Her lovers were said to include the dancer Isadora Duncan (who died tragically at age 50 when her long, flowing scarf became entangled in the spokes and rear axle of the car in which she was a passenger), Nazimova, La Galliene, Ona Munson (best known for playing the madame Belle Watling in Gone With the Wind), and possibly Alice B. Toklas.

Mercedes de Acosta. Public domain image
Among de Acosta's works for the stage included Jehanne de Arc (Joan of Arc). Eva La Galliene played the heroine onstage, but de Acosta hoped a filmed version would be a vehicle for Garbo. The film never materialized, however. She fell severely out of Garbo's favor, in part due to the behind-the-scenes manipulations of Salka Viertel and in part due to publishing a memoir that talked about Garbo. The memoir never explicitly referred to lesbian relationships, but Garbo was so protective of her privacy, even a veiled memoir was too much of a violation.

Salka Viertel: A Jewish woman born in what is now Ukraine, which was then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Viertel was the screenwriter who co-wrote Garbo's films Queen Christina and Anna Karenina. She was a close friend of Garbo's and, according to McLellan, schemed to keep Garbo and de Acosta apart as much as possible. One of her sons married Deborah Kerr, the star of From Here to Eternity.

Tallulah Bankhead: The daughter of a respectable Southern politician who eventually served as the U.S. Speaker of the House, Tallulah never used the word "bisexual," but she did describe herself as "ambisextrous." She started modeling at age 15. Her theatrical career began on London's West End, and then she made the jump to the U.S. stage. She originated the role of Sabina in Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth (another play that featured the young Monty Clift).

Bankhead, photographed by Carl Van Vechten
Bankhead's lovers were said to have included Garbo, Dietrich, de Acosta, Nazimova, and La Galliene, as well as Billie Holiday and Hattie McDaniel (who played Mammy in Gone With the Wind and was the first African-American actress to win an Academy Award, for that role).

Hattie McDaniel, studio publicity photo. Photographer unknown. Public domain
Reportedly, Bankhead was David O. Selznik's first choice to play Scarlett O'Hara, but she was considered too old to play the character at the age of 36. The flamboyant, smoky-voiced Bankhead played a character called Black Widow in a 1967 episode of Batman, and Cruella de Ville is said to have been based on a caricature of her. After her stage and film career wound down, she became widely known as a radio show host.

As you can probably tell, I found this book absolutely fascinating. You'll probably enjoy it if you're interested in Old Hollywood history, women's history, and/or LGBTQIA history. Some of McLellan's sources are a bit dubious, but that's the nature of the beast when you're trying to uncover the history of something that was deliberately kept hidden. As the World War II era gave way to the 1950s, people in Hollywood had to worry about being associated with Communism. That gave them another reason to obscure and hide some of their past relationships, as well as the cultural swing that was becoming even more repressive of gay, lesbian, and bisexual sexuality. The 1950s were the golden age of the closet.

I bought this book with my own funds from Barnes and Noble and read it on my Nook. I was not obligated in any way to review this book. Here is the link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/girls-diana-mclellan/1114477109

I'm not a Barnes and Noble affiliate. If you shop there, I don't get anything but the satisfaction of supporting a brick-and-mortar bookshop.

This is an affiliate link:

Hollywood Classics Title Index to All Movies Reviewed in Books 1 - 24 by John Howard Reid. $0.99 from Smashwords.com
Another essential book for a film buff's library, this one is packed with information and reviews. Some of the entries are quite extensive. JHR provides all the information you need, including complete cast and production staff. I find JHR's information invaluable. I like to read not only who acted in a movie, but who made it, both top-billed and lesser mortals. -- Ross Adams in DRESS CIRCLE mag.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Getting Married After Living Together - Guest Post by Annabeth Leong

Thanks so much for hosting me today!

After I got married, tons of people asked me if it "felt different." I think this question comes partly because there are plenty of reasons that it seems as if it might not. For many people today, the wedding night is far from the first time they've had sex, and it doesn't necessarily mark the transition from living with parents to living as an adult or the moment that a couple begins to live together.

I've heard some people answer that question by saying that they don't think it's different to be married, but I don't agree. For me, marriage is different from living with a partner in many ways. It may not be romantic to say while talking about a story that I wrote about a wedding, but a lot of what I know about marriage came from getting divorced. When I went through my divorce, I learned exactly how tied to my spouse I was. For the first time in my life, I couldn't pack up my CDs and clothes and just leave. I had to disentangle myself legally, financially, and emotionally. I had to break the tiny family that my spouse and I had formed together, and I had to leave the larger extended family that I had been accepted into. I also had to back out of meaningful spiritual and emotional promises that I had made.

When people get married they tie themselves together far beyond the personal connection that they have. They connect themselves to each other in the eyes of family, state, and, if applicable, the appropriate deity or deities. I've read a lot of articles bemoaning what a big deal people make out of marriage and criticizing how much money couples spend on tying the knot and how caught up they get with planning details. I'm not out to support the wedding industrial complex, but I think it is a big deal. Marriage has been seen as a major life transition in many cultures throughout history, and it's appropriate to treat it as such.


I do, however, think that some things have to change in response to the practice of living together before marriage. For example, it doesn't make sense to me for a couple to register for an entire kitchen's worth of appliances if they already have a kitchen. Similarly, I think expectations for the wedding night need to be adjusted. For many couples, it's not their first time together, and it might not be the best time or the most romantic time. I do, however, think it's a significant time, and it deserves attention. In my recent release, One Flesh, Leticia and Rosalie are getting married, and as part of the process of planning, they define what they want out of the wedding night. They go farther with that than I've done in my life, but I admire the conversation, and I it's one that couples should have. Marriage, including the wedding night, is different from living together, and I think it's good to steer that difference consciously.

Blurb:

Leticia and Rosalie are planning their wedding, wanting very much to make their special day one to remember, but Rosalie has something else weighing on her mind, one more thing she wants to make as special and as memorable as the ceremony itself—their wedding night. Rosalie wants to be with Leticia in a way that neither of them had ever been with anyone else. But finding something that would be a first time for both of them turns out to be harder than expected.

As it turns out, there is one thing Leticia has wanted to do but has never trusted anyone enough to allow herself to overcome the fear of it. And it's something that Rosalie has never done either.

The women discuss the idea of fisting as a means of connecting and forming an intimate bond with each other, one that they've never formed with anyone else. They've never loved or trusted anyone else they way the love and trust each other, and they are determined to find a way to make it work.

Excerpt:

"I'll call tomorrow to tell the church how many flowers we want to order," Leticia said, sighing and folding her notebook closed. No matter how many neat lists she made with her favorite purple pen, the sheer quantity of wedding-related details was overwhelming. "Can you call the caterer back, Rosalie? I still feel like they sneaked a charge in somewhere, but I can't get a straight answer out of them about it."

Her fiancée smiled indulgently. "Better yet. I'll go in person on my lunch break, and they won't know what hit them."

"Great." Leticia rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. She'd wanted to go to bed early, but another evening of wedding planning had made that completely impossible. She was excited to be marrying her one true love and all, but it was easy to lose track of that when she had fourteen phone calls to make and her mother demanded an e-mailed progress report every single night. "That's got to be enough for now."

Leticia stole a quick glance at Rosalie. She'd changed into a cute pair of pajamas when she got home from work, the childish pattern an odd contrast with her sophisticated coppery makeup. Leticia briefly fantasized about peeling the clothing away, revealing her lover's curves and smooth brown skin. Unfortunately, at that very same moment, she had to stifle a yawn. She was so damn sleepy. They would need to get to bed immediately if she was going to give Rosalie proper attention.

"We can't quit planning yet," Rosalie said. "We haven't discussed the most important thing, and it's coming up soon."

Leticia groaned. She flipped her notebook open again and paged through her color-coded, highlighted lists. "We've talked about everything I had listed for the day, and we even went over things that have deadlines coming up in the next few days. I don't see what we're—"

"The wedding night," Rosalie purred. "We haven't discussed that at all."

There was no mistaking the sparkle in her eyes. Leticia actually blushed, the way she had at Rosalie's makeup counter the first time they met, when the other woman's soft words of praise, roughened by the obvious desire in her voice, had gotten Leticia so hot and flushed it had been impossible to identify the correct shade of foundation for her skin tone. She'd been forced to come back later, not that she'd minded.

Now that she'd figured out what Rosalie was hinting at, Leticia played innocent. For all her lover's passion, her Catholic upbringing had left her with an adorable aversion to using direct language. Leticia loved to watch Rosalie get flustered while trying to explain her naughty desires. She batted her eyelashes and focused on her notes again. "We've reserved our hotel room the night of. We've got our plane tickets to Puerto Rico for the honeymoon a couple days after that. Everything appears to be in order."

"The wedding night," Rosalie said, apparently oblivious to Leticia's teasing. She rolled her hands through the air, one over the other, the gesture an invitation to take the word "night" and run with it. "The whole reason I wanted an afternoon wedding was so we could have plenty of time together. Afterward. In the hotel."

"You mean to take a good, long nap? I'm sure we'll be tired after dealing with all the guests, and coming down from pre-wedding nerves, too." Leticia couldn't resist continuing the act.

"Not a nap. But I am talking about what we might do in bed."

Buy Links:

All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-oneflesh-1355652-149.html?referrer=6bdb1f9160564c0525b41f36e51861a0

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00GUMJ080/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00GUMJ080/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00GUMJ080&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelthouse-21

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-flesh-annabeth-leong/1117483502?ean=2940149014910

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/one-flesh-1

Storm Moon Press: http://www.stormmoonpress.com/books/One-Flesh.aspx

Bio:

Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors—dark, romantic, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her lesbian stories have appeared in the Lambda Literary Award-nominated Lesbian Cops, Circlet Press's love-spell anthology Like Hearts Enchanted, Lovecraftian erotica book Whispers In Darkness, and others. When not writing erotica, she is frequently reading it. She has lived in six states in various parts of the United States, and traveled to most of the others. Annabeth believes passionately in freedom of speech, rights for people of all sexual orientations, and the need for compassionate religion. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking, and excellent bass lines.

Giveaway:

I'm giving away a $5 Amazon gift card. Check out the Rafflecopter below!

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Sunday, January 5, 2014

Girls Rule, Boys Drool by Lucy Felthouse

Three lesbian erotic short stories from popular writer Lucy Felthouse.


Girls Rule, Boys Drool

Boyish dyke Toni is working at the local golf club, serving champagne to arrogant, privileged folk when she spots Clarissa. She’s one of the posh people, but she looks like she’d rather be somewhere else—anywhere else. Toni’s immediately smitten and wants to put a smile on the older woman’s beautiful face, so she decides to show Clarissa just why girls rule and boys drool.

Making An Impression

Joely’s holiday has consisted mainly of chilling out by the hotel pool, having the occasional swim and reading lots. That is, until a hot brunette arrives and suddenly, Joely has trouble concentrating on anything else. Her gaydar non-existent, Joely decides on an unusual course of action to find out whether the newcomer bats for the same side as her.

Fear as an Aphrodisiac

Girlfriends Nikki and Sonya are on holiday in Edinburgh, Scotland’s capital city. They’re having fun sightseeing, until a super-scary tourist attraction sends Nikki into meltdown. Once outside again, Nikki slowly starts to feel better—and, much to her surprise, horny. Quickly realising that the fear has acted as a potent aphrodisiac, she decides to take advantage of that fact, right there in the middle of the city.

Available from:



Coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.


*****

Excerpt:

Finally, Nikki and Sonya found the turning off Edinburgh’s Royal Mile that they needed. They’d expected a road, but Mary King’s Close was nothing more than a narrow passageway that looked like it led to the next street along. Glancing at one another, it seemed both girls suspected they were in the wrong place—despite the name of the alleyway—but as they headed along the close, they came across more signage and discovered they were wrong. The signs proclaimed that they were indeed at The Real Mary King’s Close, and this time they exchanged a relieved look and moved inside the tourist attraction.

After paying their money, they were put into a group that was already waiting, and after a few minutes was called to attention by a member of staff. The young man, dressed in incredibly old-fashioned attire welcomed them to the attraction and gave some brief information about what they should expect from the tour, as well as some health and safety spiel.

Then they were ushered deeper into the building and down some stairs. Another peculiarly-dressed actor met them and gave his talk. The group soon learned that Mary King’s Close had been a town of sorts, a collection of streets and houses, named after the most prominent local—Mary King. It had functioned well, this part of Edinburgh—in its day. But it had also befallen hard times and tragedy, including the Black Death. It was rumoured that people affected had been bricked into their houses to prevent the disease spreading further. It had never been confirmed nor denied, but the very idea sent a shiver down Nikki’s spine.

As they advanced into the underground town—now covered over by modern Edinburgh—they learned more about the inhabitants, their lives and, in some cases, their deaths. By the time they were shown the shrine of a young girl, covered with offerings both old and new, Nikki was clinging onto Sonya’s arm so hard that the other girl gave her a nudge.

“Oi, you’re hurting me! What’s the matter with you?”

“Sorry,” Nikki replied. “I’m getting a little creeped out, that’s all.”

“A little? The way you’re squeezing my arm, I’m beginning to think you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“I said I’m sorry. God. Don’t you think it’s spooky down here?”

A meaningful glance from the tour guide shut them up. Nikki dropped her hand to Sonya’s and held it. The group continued through the subterranean labyrinth, listening to more tales of the past, the things that had happened within the very place they stood, over four hundred years ago.
Some periods of total darkness with recounts of history later, and Nikki was a nervous wreck. She’d always had an overactive imagination, and although she’d never seen a ghost—despite Sonya’s words—she believed in them and was really succumbing to the eeriness of the ancient place. She had gotten to the stage where she fully expected to see the spectre of little Annie—having left the site of her shrine—peering around a corner, beckoning to her. Or the chilly finger of a plague victim trailing down the back of her neck. She grew so paralyzed with fear that she fell silent and didn’t take in a word of the rest of the excursion—simply holding onto Sonya’s hand as they walked through the rooms and tunnels.

When they eventually emerged into the outside world once more, Nikki heaved a sigh of relief. “Sonya, darling, take me for a drink, now. A stiff one. A double vodka and coke sounds perfect right now. Maybe even a triple.”

“Were you really that scared?” The other woman looked disbelieving.

“What do you mean, were? I still bloody am. I’m sure I’d have found it interesting if I wasn’t so busy being terrified. I’m surprised I didn’t wet myself.”

“Aww, babe.” Sonya pulled the other girl into her arms. “I didn’t realise you hated it that much. We could have left if I’d known.”

“No,” Nikki shook her head. “It’s okay, I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I just got to the stage where I blocked it all out. But I’d still really like a drink, if you don’t mind.”

Sonya gently pushed Nikki against the wall of the alleyway and hugged her once more. “Okay, we’ll go for a drink soon. Let me hold you for a few minutes, first.”

The other girl said nothing, just relaxed into her lover’s embrace and slowly, very slowly, felt the fear ebbing away. With not a small amount of horror, she realised that she was turned on. Her knickers were damp and sticking to her, and the heat emanating from between her legs was unmistakable. What the actual fuck? She kept quiet, instead nuzzling into Sonya’s neck and pressing a kiss to the delicate skin there.

“Ooh,” Sonya said, shuddering, “that was lovely. What was that for?”

“For being nice.” Nikki’s voice was muffled, and she kissed her girlfriend again.

“Hey,” Sonya said, grabbing Nikki’s hands and squeezing them, “you’d better stop that, otherwise I’m going to get turned on. And that’s the last thing you want right now. I’m trying to be understanding here, sweetheart.”

Nikki came to the conclusion that she didn’t mind if Sonya got turned on, not at all. In fact, some sexy fun might just take her mind off the creepy underground place they’d just visited. It was damn weird that being scared had turned her on, but the more she thought about it, the more she figured it kinda made sense. Nothing, in her opinion, was scarier than death, and the French word for orgasm translated to ‘the little death’—so it was widely accepted that sex and death were connected. Sex was about life, death was about, well, death. So, in an attempt to stop thinking about things that confused the hell out of her, she was going to embrace life, wholeheartedly. And if that meant experiencing the little death, then so be it.

“I don’t mind,” she whispered into Sonya’s ear.

“What do you mean, sweetie?” Sonya replied, grabbing her shoulders and moving her back so she could look at her face. “You don’t mind what?”

“I don’t mind you getting turned on.”

*****

Author bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over eighty publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Interview with Author Joshua Skye!

Hopping by from the Coffin Hop? See THIS POST.

If you had to sum up The Angels of Autumn in a few sentences, what would you say?

The Angels of Autumn is an intensely philosophical, supernatural thriller about one man’s quest for revenge that ultimately becomes his path to salvation.

How did it feel to have The Singing Wind chosen as a Dark Book Club selection?

It was absolutely thrilling. I couldn’t stop telling people about it. It renewed a passion in me about that book. I’d worked very hard for a very long time on The Singing Wind. For it to receive such attention was wonderful; cathartic really.   

What's your favorite genre to write?

Horror, but I twist it with elements of other genres. I love movies that defy classification. One of my all-time favorites is The Company of Wolves. It’s a horror story about werewolves but also an art-house dark fantasy. I love it.



Which passion came first - writing or acting? 

Writing. Acting was something I did for fun. I did it for a long time and pursued it quite earnestly. I even earned a degree in it. Writing however, was always my first love. It’s my ghostly companion and will always haunt me. In a good way, of course. 

Do you listen to music while you write? If so, do you have a favorite artist or style of music that inspires you?

Not most of the time. Dance pop is my preferred musical genre and listening to something designed to get you moving can be distracting. Madonna is my favorite musical artist of all time; she has been for over twenty years. There are times however, that music can be very inspirational. I’ve put on what I call “background music” and wrote. If I need to put myself in a particular mood because of the tone of a scene I need to write, music can be very helpful in taking me where I need to go. Classical and adult contemporary are genres that make good “background music.”

What has been the most significant book you've read (or listened to, if you were a small child) in your life? 

Out on a Limb by Shirley MacLaine. I’ve read it countless times and own numerous editions.



Do you read for pleasure? If so, what kind of books do you like to read?

I do. I read spiritual journals, political and religious studies, new age philosophy, horror, romance, fantasy, and the occasional comedy. I have a pretty vast home library. In my collection, the authors you’ll see most often are: Shirley MacLaine, Stephen King, Anne Rice, Clive Barker, Whitley Strieber, Michael Moore, Al Franken, J.K. Rowling, and Gary Brandner. It may not be fashionable to admit it, but I do own all the books by Martha Stewart and Stephenie Meyer, too. I like what I like. Currently, my shelves are filling with indie gay and horror authors.     

Do you have a favorite erotica writer or book? 

I’ve read Anne Rice’s erotic Sleeping Beauty series. It was eye-opening, to say the least. I’ve also read My Secret Garden: Women’s Sexual Fantasies and am very curious about the Shades of Grey series. Aside from the occasional short piece of gay and bisexual fantasy, for the most part I do not read erotica.

***

Joshua Skye was born in Jamestown, New York but predominantly grew up in the Texas Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex. He is a graduate of K.D. Studio Actor’s Conservatory of the Southwest and has worked on indie/underground films and on stage. He lives in rural Pennsylvania with his partner Ray of sixteen years and their eight year old son, Syrian. His short stories have appeared in anthologies from STARbooks Press, Knightwatch Press, Sirens Call Publications, Rainstorm Press, JMS Books and periodicals such as Blood and Lullabies. He is the author of The Singing Wind, Bareback: A Werewolf’s Tale, along with the forthcoming Midnight Rainbows, and The Grigori.

***
The Angels of Autumn: A Profound and Powerful Gay Erotic Thriller

Kincaid Kingsley returns to the town of his childhood after the death of his twin brother, Xander. Believing the crime to be motivated by hate and prejudice, Kincaid sets out to discover why the police are no longer actively investigating the case and hopefully uncover his brother’s killer in the process.

Things in Wren are not as they seem, however, and the closer that Kincaid gets to an answer, the more danger he encounters. Why are all the townspeople so afraid to share what they know?

As the mystery surrounding Xander’s death unravels, the town becomes increasingly blind to what is actually going on. Can Kincaid discover who killed his brother and save the town from evil?

Author: Joshua Skye
Publisher: Pink Pepper Press
Number of Pages: 212 Pages

ISBN-13: 978-0615702100 (Pink Pepper Press) 
ISBN-10: 0615702104

Release Date: October 19, 2012

***
Links for Purchase:

The Angels of Autumn Excerpt:
From Chapter Five…

The Lombardi Funeral Home was among the oldest of buildings in Wren, constructed in the late 1800s as both a business and a residence by the Lombardi family, immigrants from Italy, of course.

They conducted the bulk of their unusual profession on the shadowy, beautifully decorated, meticulously maintained first level while the untidy dealings with body preparation were carried out in the basement. The second and third levels were where they actually lived. Kept in the family for well over a hundred years by strict legal clauses in every will and testament down the Lombardi line it was now owned and operated by the widow Mary Anne Lombardi and her only son, Angelo.

Kincaid felt queasy as he looked around the parlor. The furnishings were ancient, most assuredly antiques, perhaps even the original Italian décor, all aglow in the flickering light of electric candles. Aside from what little daylight filtered in through the dark sheers, there were no other light sources. A little bell had announced his arrival several minutes before but he’d yet to be greeted.

There was a musty smell and a pungent chemical odor beneath it. Someone, somewhere deep in the house turned on a hissing record player and after a few scratchy seconds a low, somber sonata began to play over unseen speakers. A curtain parted and a tall shadowy figure emerged. He said, “How may I help?”

Angelo was a handsome man with typically Italian features. He was dressed in a nice, solemn suit and had his hair combed strictly back. His large hazel eyes fell on his guest and there was an audible sound of shock, a sigh and then a deep intake of air. He said, “Kincaid. Wow, I thought you’d never come back to this place especially when you didn’t attend your brother’s funeral. Everyone thought it was pretty scandalous. So, how’s it going?”

Ignoring the crude judgment, Kincaid detected a genuine surprise in Angelo’s voice. He was the same age and had been in many of the very same classes as the Kingsley twins, he’d even been one of the disapproving assholes who had put them through hell. Angelo had been one of the popular kids, one of the over-exulted Wren Dragons, a dumb jock destined to forever mourn his golden high school days. As an adult, Angelo didn’t seem so intimidating anymore. He was just a man in his late twenties, wasting away in the family business, no longer taut, tan and toned, no longer important, no longer a Dragon…the toast of the town. He had a beer belly which alone made Kincaid happy. “I’m okay,” he replied. “How have you been?”

Angelo’s lips quivered when he forced a smile and answered, “Good. Thank you. How’s your mother?”

“As good as can be expected, I guess.”

Angelo said, “Right. Well, how can I help you?” He was stiff, formal. The fingers of his hands were entwined and resting at his waist. He cocked his head to one side, the sympathy in his eyes was counterfeit, a professional automation.

“I wanted to talk to you about my brother’s funeral, actually.” Kincaid found he couldn’t look at Angelo when he said ‘funeral,’ and so he diverted his gaze across the room to nothing in particular. Everything about the place was so old.

Angelo’s voice got deeper and there was a hint of umbrage to it. “I imagine you would. Your mother expressed her disappointment in your brother’s restoration. We’re very sorry she was so displeased. I assure you we pro-rated our fees accordingly.”

Kincaid slowly brought his attention back to his host and said, “Yeah well, do you do the restoration?”

“No. My mother does.” Angelo’s stance changed, he was getting defensive both vocally and physically.

“May I speak with her, please?”

“Why?”

“I’m not here to cause a scene or anything. I just want to talk to her. That’s all, Angelo. I’m not going to berate your mother.”

The Italian man just stood there for several tedious and silent moments assessing the guest’s intentions. Kincaid refused to look away this time no matter how nerve-racking or unsettling the situation slowly became. He wasn’t in high school anymore, he wasn’t the frightened and belittled teenager who shied away from everyone and Angelo wasn’t the pompous cock-of-the-walk anymore. They were adults and far more equal now than Angelo was probably even aware of.

Kincaid prepared himself for a physical altercation. Being picked on mercilessly had prompted him to take quite a few self-defense classes over the years. Angelo might have been able to beat the shit out of him once, long ago, but his glory days were long over. He was out of shape and didn’t have his buddies around to back him up. Kincaid put on a confident little grin and stated, “I said please.”

Angelo’s shoulders slouched ever so slightly. He swallowed hard and his eyes turned down as his voice became professional, disengaged. He said, “Of course. If you’ll excuse me I’ll see if she’s available. Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you, Angelo,” Kincaid said lowly.

Angelo nodded and disappeared behind the curtain.

Kincaid turned and meandered into the small, dismal sitting room and over to a stiff, uncomfortable sofa and sat down. A spider crawled over the surface of the weathered coffee table. Not particularly squeamish about such things, Kincaid watched it with a distracting fascination, the way it moved, the legs click, click, clicking along. He frowned as he realized that this spider was malformed. It had nine legs instead of eight and yet the added appendage didn’t seem to impede it in the slightest. He found himself leaning down, close, to get a better view of the little creepy crawly. The spider stopped. Perhaps it was now quite aware of its audience. It was perfectly still, frozen.

“Mr. Kingsley.” The voice was soft.

Kincaid flinched. The spider lurched into motion and scurried over the edge of the table and vanished. Being polite, Kincaid stood and turned his attention to the petite woman standing in the entranceway. She clutched a leather-bound portfolio to her bosom. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled into a tight bun on her head. She had modest make-up on and was dressed in a long, conservative black dress. There was a beautifully crocheted shawl draped over her shoulders perhaps utilized to hide the slight curvature of her upper spine. Kincaid said, “Ms. Lombardi, thank you for seeing me.”

She smiled courtly and entered the room, moved gracefully around the back of the sofa and sat down next to her guest. Kincaid sat down as well. Her eyes were down. He wondered what she was thinking. He imagined she thought he was there to complain. He wanted to reassure her he was not and so he said, “I didn’t come here to…”

Without looking at him, she shoved the portfolio at him. Sheepishly, he accepted it and took a deep breath before opening it. For a moment he expected to see pictures of his dead brother, before and after. It wasn’t something he was even remotely interested in. They were pictures of the dead and indeed they were before and after shots, instamatic snapshots, many of them yellowed with age. The first was an old man whose face had practically been pulled off in some horrible accident. After the restoration he simply appeared as though he were napping. The second was a woman whose forehead had been cleaved open and again the after picture was perfect. On and on the pictures went, each turn of the page revealing flawless transformations.

She said demurely, “My work. As you can see, I am very good at it.”

“It’s immaculate, you’d never know, but my mother said she could…” Kincaid paused as a realization hit him. He turned his eyes away from the Polaroid snapshots in the photo album. The widow Lombardi looked sad and afraid at the same time. His voice was shaky, hesitant. He said, “You did it on purpose.”

Mary Anne nodded and took the album back from him, she closed it and pressed it, embraced it, to her breast. Her eyes moved downward until she stared at the floor and there she focused for a long time, barely breathing, silent and still. She was contemplating something. Kincaid’s mind raced with what those thoughts might be. His heart fluttered nervously. What secret was she about to reveal?