THE GREAT MALTESE CANDLE ADVENTURES

Vlad walkie-talkie cues the light man; in the main room, the lights go out; the plethora of Jfay candles simultaneously go on to appreciative gasps from the audience bathed suddenly in what seems purely candlelight but cleverly includes artificial glow emanating from the ice bales stacked around the room.

Cascades of blood-like liquid flow are projected on all empty wall space, accompanied by the amplified pulse of an actual heartbeat.

(Excerpt from SUCKS! Book 1 of the DRAQUAL VAMPYRE CHRONICLES)

And so the adventure begins for Jfay and her candles -- Whisked away by the Great Maltese (better known as Author William Maltese of International Fame) to far away places and on fantastical, and many times erotic and paranormal adventures!

Since the onslaught of the DRAQUAL VAMPYRE CHRONICLES and the candles that were designed for the entire theme and story-line, I have been very fortunate to have had the opportunity to work further with Mr. Maltese on other exciting projects and have had the honor of my candles as well as myself, in my Jfay persona, make appearances in subsequent story-lines.

I'd like to share this candle and story-line adventure with you as we have traveled with Mr. Maltese thus far........

I’m expecting an old crone, candle-making seeming to insinuate black-magic or even witchery. I’m pleasantly surprised by Jfay, wax artisan, who is an attractive woman, late thirties, with an absolutely charming southern accent, “Y’all come on in.” Her brown hair is perfectly coiffed. Her eyes are dark chocolate. Her lips are colored with just a hint of pale red. “I thought we could have cold Coronas and jalapeño snacks while we discuss the candle in question.

Our chairs are grouped around a round coffee table upon which sits opened beer bottles punctuating a bed of ice cupped within a large punch bowl parenthesized by two smaller bowls almost overflowing with spicy home-made chips.

“You’ve a candle color definitely in mind?” she asks and drinks some of her beer straight from the bottle.

“I’m thinking black, maybe representing the dark and the unknown but, to be quite candid, I’m not quite sure why I think it should be black; just that it should be,” Kenneth says. “If you can, please, include at least some brown, since I have an unmistakable feeling that those we seek are buried in the ground. You might slip in a bit of white by way of insinuating my hoped-for enlightenment.”

(Excerpt from BLACK CANDLE READER, in MLR Press' anthology LOVE ME DEAD)

Now, you have to know how excited I was to have the chance to interact with the characters in this story, to meet with them and design a candle for them intended for Candle-Reading, a power that Mr. Maltese has included in this story as well as his teen warrior saga, Flicker Warriors, which I will share with you in detail as well. But the Black Candle Reader Candle was designed for the characters in the story and also in real life as you will see here:

And next, for our adventures in FLICKER: The Teen Warrior Saga, as promised ~ FLICKER has been an on-going adventure traveled with Mr. Maltese that is set in Washington in the town of Flicker and centers around teenagers who possess many powers, one of which is Candle-Reading, and there are candles that are written into the story that possess certain powers and hold the keys to answers sought by the Flicker heroes and heroines. There have been a total of 5 candles designed and brought to life for Book 1, now ready to go into print after a nearly year long run of free chapter postings on the Flicker Warrior Myspace page. It has been a tremendous treat to have the opportunity to bring these special candles to life --

It all began in the past........

Uxana hurriedly handmolds a candle made of scraps of wax from other candles being careful to choose mainly the purple wax in which to contact Melissa, a Candle Reader, in the future.....

Uxana and Melissa make contact through their candles, one living far in the distant past, the other now in the future, breaking beyond the boundaries of time.

Their two candles, Uxana's crudely made purple candle, and Melissa's blue candle fuse into one spectacular candle and their scents combine in a BERRY SPICE FUSION, a magickal blend of Blueberries, Mulberry, Black Cherry and Clove....

(Flicker Warriors)

And from FLICKER to "Ludus Scaenicus Mortis Rubrae", which is a short story featured in MLR Press' Anthology, RED, a clever homage to Edgar Allen Poe’s infamous The Masque of the Red Death, which puts two handsome and horny aristocratic young male lovers among a company of ill-fated revelers locked within the castellated walls of Prince Prospero’s fortified abbey … the latter with rooms a-flicker with Mistress Jfay’s candles:

The progress of each and every is impeded by the many twists and turns of the Abbey’s rabbit-warren maze of rooms, tiny and big … corridors, wide and narrow … between us and the Imperial Suite. The lighting that accompanies our journey is just as erratic as the interior landscape we traverse. Some spaces have so little that they require either a familiarity or an actual dragging of a hand along one wall to make a successful crossing from one side to the other. In bizarre counterpoint, one of the smallest has seven very impressively large deep-red candles, each a-droll with red-orange wax, and smelling — to my surprise at Mistress Jfay, Candle-maker to the Prince, and me possibly sharing a similar passion — of blood-red oranges; the septet’s combined candle power is sufficient to illuminate a whole auditorium.


So, where shall our adventures take us next?

Well, I've designed a Mysterious and Magical Candle which possesses the captured soul of an avenging warrior meant to be a beautiful, yet deadly wedding gift for an evil king, as well as numerous other candle renderings designed to accompany many other Maltese works of genius.

Just recently I've learned that Jfay candles will be making yet another appearance soon in a new Maltese work in progress titled, I DEBAUCHEE -- So be sure to stay tuned for this one -- And it is not to be for the faint of heart from what I've been privileged to see. It is going to be a stunning Maltese no holds barred masterpiece, I'm sure!

To take a tour of all of the Maltese/Jfay Book and Candle pairings, be sure to visit the MALTESE CANDLE GALLERY: http://www.studio3bonline.com/maltesecandlegallery.htm

You can also visit the fabulous Mr. Maltese online at http://www.williammaltese.com

Join us for all of the excitement of FLICKER WARRIORS at http://www.myspace.com/flickerwarriors

Author William Maltese

Thank you William for all of the fun and excitement! Jfay xxoo

The Lot

A little holiday treat for you all

© 2008 James Buchanan

If Kyle heard one more go round of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas,” he would step out into traffic. Sorry, no, Southern California…it didn’t look anything at all like Christmas. No snow except for the blown on fake shit in the flocking tent. With midday highs hitting eighty degrees, the only gloves in evidence were Kyle’s cheap canvas and leather work gloves. A hazy brown evening sky hovered around the tops of bone dry mountains. It made the Christmas trees and twinkling lights seem like a cheap hooker’s overwrought make-up…no matter how you looked at it, how well it was done, you just knew it covered something pretty trashy.

Kyle gritted his teeth and went after the bottom branches on the Noble Fir with a vengeance. Nothing like a four foot long set of loppers to get the I’m-not-in-the-holiday-spirit aggression out.

“Wait!” His customer’s cartoon feminine voice cut down his spine. It had only been, maximum, twenty minutes that he’d been subjected to the helium wonder of her words and Kyle already ached to use the loppers on her vocal cords.

Kyle plastered on the cheery customer service smile he’d perfected waiting tables before he turned. “Yes, ma’am?”

She pouted with an aging Valley Girl hip cock and a finger pressed to her bottom lip. “Do you have to take so much off the bottom?”

Fighting to keep the smile from slipping, Kyle stared over her shoulder and sang a refrain of “Hey Santa” in his head. The only song ever to combine Santa and cunt in the same sentence usually managed to keep Kyle from slipping into a postal wig-out.

Beyond Miss Annoying Voice, among the rows of Pines, Spruces, and Cedars roamed a man. Given that the guy wandered among the five-footers and still stood close to a head taller, he probably neared six foot. He stepped into a space between the trees. Kyle sucked in an appreciative hiss. Damn, shaved skull and a t-shirt so tight it could have been painted on, complemented a tight ass tucked into deep indigo jeans.

Absently, Kyle answered her question, “You, ah, won’t be able to fit it in the base you bought if we don’t.” What he wouldn’t have given to be those jeans.

“Ah, excuse me,” the cartoon voice jerked Kyle’s attention away from his mental drooling, “are you going to finish my tree?”

Kyle took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, just a second.” Then he called out toward the other customer. “Be with you in a bit, sir!” Be on my knees in front of you in a second if I had my wish. “Just finishing up here.”

A deep, throaty, “No problem,” answered him and Kyle had to turn before the chick caught him sprouting more wood than the artificial forest surrounding them.

As quick as he could manage, Kyle stripped the bottom two branches then manhandled the tree to her steroid-ridden SUV. He had to re-do the tie downs twice because she fretted that Kyle hadn’t strapped it down tight enough. Each second Kyle wasted with her was one lost investigating him.

Finally she roared out of the parking lot and Kyle jogged back into the rows of trees. Kyle found him nosing around the mini-me trees that didn’t hit higher than the guy’s knees. Leg’s splayed out, arms folded across his chest, the man drummed thick fingers against a bulging bicep. Kyle’s boots crunched over the packed dirt lot, announcing his presence. The customer looked over at Kyle. The deepest brown eyes Kyle had ever seen made a slow up and down tour of Kyle’s body.

“Hi,” Kyle tried not to sound desperate…for either a sale or a blow-job. Although he’d much rather have the blow-job, Kyle’d settle for having the guy walk out with a tree. “My name’s Kyle. See anything you like, Mr.—“

Another head to toe crawl ended in an amused smirk. “Mike.” The smirk widened into a grin. “I just might have.”

“Well,” Kyle swallowed, “What kind of tree are you looking for. You like the small ones?”

“As long as it’s good and thick.”

Kyle couldn’t resist the tease. “I got one more in the mid sized range and pretty thick.”

“Didn’t see any of those out here on the lot. Is it hidden back there?” Mike jerked his head toward the big red and white tent. Through the open flap, stacks of still bundled trees created a maze. “I’d appreciate you showing me one like that.”

Kyle reminded himself that he needed this job. A quickie in the storage tent could get him canned five days before Christmas. Mike, as though he sensed the hesitation, smiled and stepped close. God, Mike smelled like he’d been working in the sun, all musky and male. Kyle decided to hell with working the tree lot, half the stores in town sported help wanted signs. “I could show you one in the back.”

“Great,” Mike sauntered off toward the tent, “show me what you got.” Pausing at the entrance, Mike looked back over his shoulder. “You expecting any help anytime soon?”

Kyle stopped next to Mike and wracked his brain for time. Marco and Jeff left about half an hour ago and they had three deliveries and a drive-thru run to make. “The other guys’ll be back in maybe fifteen minutes.”

Mike stepped into the tent, snagged Kyle’s belt loop and used it as a leash to pull him inside. “I’ll be quick then.” Still steering Kyle by the grip on his jeans, Mike led them back between the rows of trees. When they were out of plain view, he shoved Kyle against a pile of firs. Mike dropped to his knees. Before Kyle could do much of anything, Mike had the button popped and the zipper down. Kyle groaned as Mike fished his aching prick out of its denim prison. “You weren’t lying,” Mike grinned up at him, “nice size, just how I like it.”

Slowly, Mike ran his tongue along the underside of Kyle’s half-hard cock. He traced the flare of the head and then blew across the wet trail. Kyle stifled a moan. Mike snorted, twisting Kyle’s prick to full glory in his fist. “Yeah, really thick.” Mike muttered. Still jacking the cock in his hand, Mike wrapped his lips over the head. Mike’s free hand wormed into the gap of Kyle’s jeans. Using the back of his wrist, Mike forced Kyle’s jeans lower.

Holy shit! Kyle shuddered as Mike’s searching fingers moved behind his balls and tickled his hole. His hips bucked into the delicious combination of fist and mouth. Mike released his cock and moved to squeeze Kyle’s sac. This time, Kyle didn’t suppress his groan. He could almost feel Mike’s smile around his cock. As Mike sucked Kyle down to the root, he shoved a finger up Kyle’s ass. Kyle squirmed at the rawness of it, forcing his prick deeper into Mike’s throat.

Mike took it, barely gagging. The suction he managed, combined with the finger probing his hole and Mike’s massaging his balls, lit up Kyle’s nerves like a string of flashing Christmas lights. He slid his hand over Mike’s sweat slicked skull. He was so off balance. The trees behind him didn’t offer any support and he couldn’t get a grip on Mike. Pine needles stuck Kyle’s bare ass adding a hint of pain. Kyle thrashed. Mike kept sucking and fucking until Kyle lost it. One moment he was just flailing and the next he was pumping his load into Mike’s hot mouth. Swallow after swallow, Mike took it all.

When Kyle was dry, Mike pulled his hands out of Kyle’s jeans. Mike licked his lips and grinned. “I’d say you got a few minutes to spare.” He stood and held out his hand to help Kyle stand. It took a moment for Kyle to get his knees back under him. It’d been a while since he’d gotten off like that.

“Oh, wow,” Kyle caught his breath, “thanks.” He hadn’t been this mellow since before Thanksgiving. Kyle yanked up his pants and tucked himself away. Christmas didn’t seem so bad after all.

“My pleasure.” Mike fished in his back pocket, pulled out a money clip and began pulling off twenties. “Sixty bucks, right?”

Suddenly, Kyle’s mood shifted from happy and sated to supremely pissed off. He may have been easy and horny, but he wasn’t that desperate. Jeans still unzipped and gaping, Kyle tried to back away. His retreat was blocked by the infernal pile of trees. “Hey look, that’s not what this was…” He sputtered.

“Kyle.” Mike grabbed his jaw and forced Kyle to look him in the eyes. “The sign outside says, ‘we deliver any tree over sixty dollars free’.” With a wicked grin, Mike used his other hand to shove three bills down the front of Kyle’s open jeans, right next to Kyle’s prick. Before drawing back Mike gave it a squeeze. “Sixty bucks, pick any fucking tree, and bring it by my house as soon as the other guys get back.” He chuckled. “I think I have the perfect present to open under it.”

~Happy Holidays~

Exploring Back Country

We've all thought about roughing it. Heading deep into unexplored territory. Boldly going where no man has gone before--today.

But how many of us have actually packed up our gear and ventured out into the great unknown? Don't know about you, but I have, and I can tell you, it's worth the effort and energy expended.

First though, let's make sure we're on the same page. While you all are packing up your overcoats, chains, collars, and good sturdy rope, allow me to don my guide cap, so to speak.

Depending on the geographical location of your awaiting adventure, you may find yourself in precarious encounters with a diversity of local wildlife. For example:

bear ~or~ Bear
(photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons) (photo courtesy Erotic Oddities)
These pesky critters are often as extremely territorial as they are extremely hairy, and unlike the traditional "growl is worse than its bite", bears can and do clamp down hard when provoked. If you find yourself face to face with a bear, be sure to give them whatever they request, unless you are confident you possess the needed magic to tame one of these creatures.


deer ~or~ Dear
(photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons) (photo courtesy Erotic Oddities)
Don't let these docile-looking animals fool you. Their oftentimes angelic expressions can be very deceiving. Once encroached upon, deer/dear often panic and fight-or-flight usually follows. However, you may not realize which animal these creatures my unleash, until you find yourself picking your weary ass up off the ground, wondering what hit you.


rabbit(n) ~or~ rabbit(adj)
(photos courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
"Oh! Aren't they cute?"
Yeah. Whatever. If you're fresh out of cookies, rabbit are one of the few of nature's creatures you may hope to avoid altogether. And yes, these cute and cuddly furries love cookies--can't get enough of them. That, my brave explorers, is the real danger. So, if you're not into constantly forking over your cookies, steer clear of rabbit.


Last, but not least, the snake
(photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons) (photo courtesy Erotic Oddities)
During your explorations of the various back countries, you will encounter many of these reptilians in just as many shapes, sizes, and colors. Don't let their differences intimidate you though. The majority of snakes are beautiful and utterly harmless, and you can distinguish the poisonous ones by their markings--most times. Herein lies your biggest problem. Knowing by sight which of these lovelies to embrace and which to avoid takes experience. And even the most experienced snake-handlers sometimes make mistakes.

As the tour winds down, I can only say that I am hopeful you all are better prepared to explore back country now. It's definitely not for the meek or faint of heart. Be bold. Embrace the moment. Remember, the 3 most popular reasons to explore back country are:

1. It feels great.

2. It feels great.

3. It feels great!

Happy Hunting!

Bryl R. Tyne is a wrangler by nature and a writer by choice, published with Noble Romance Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Dreamspinner Press, and STARbooks Press. You can find out more about Bryl at: bryltyne.com

This post is X-posted to The Rainbow Studio.

Picture Yourself

on a float on a river... not just any river... a spring-fed river in the Ozark Mountains.

From a distance, the Gasconade is bluish-green. Up close or in it, the water is oft-times clear, always cool and refreshing. Float the river in summertime and the air is filled with aromas. Woods thick with trees of oak and black walnut. You will pass by high bluffs of grey rock, brown rock, carpeted with moss, and when the sun hits the bluffs at certain angles, they sparkle like jewels.

These sights and aromas are part of my story, Green River, one of three manlove tales in the MLR PRESS ghost anthology, Past Shadows.

My tale is set along the Gasconade in 1938. There's a bridge carrying traffic along U.S. Route 66, and under one of its piers lives a friendly spirt... well, it is friendly to the men working for the WPA (Works Progress Administration) to rehab the highway and its river bridge. The spirit likes to play wank the weenie when those men are skinny-dipping during their free time. The link in the title of this post will take you to YouTube where you can see a three-minute slide show that tells all about Green River.

"Blah, blah, blah," you grumble. "What's the candle picture all about?"

Glad you asked. It is the creation of Candle Artist Jfay, instigated by my request for her to re-create the sights and sounds of the Gasconade I described earlier. This past Tuesday, I received my candle, and I am here to state without debate that she has succeeded. She created a scent unique, and design which depicts the very bluffs I myself have seen. Want to know how she did it? Go to her web site and find out... here:

Wick'd Reads.com

You can have one for your very own, and when winter winds howl outside your window, you can fire it up, inhale, and picture yourself on a float on the Gasconade. While you're at Jfay's site, you will also find a text excerpt from my Green River which inspired the candle.

For more excerpts, a picture of the bridge, and purchase links for the books, you can visit my web site here: http://www.jardonnserotictales.com/greenriverexc1.htm

And that, friends, should keep you occupied for awhile.

Yours truly,
Jardonn Smith

Woodworking skills

So, SG -- subby that he is -- has been working on paddles. Hardwood. Unfortunately, KenDoll the 11year old, found him working on the first and became fixated on the paddles. We’ve managed to brush the first two off as SG is remembering woodshop and the how to do short in-cuts and long in-cuts on hardwood. Because he grew up in a time when they still paddled.

In fact, his woodshop teacher, if you massively fucked up, made you make the paddle he beat you with…called them “name signers.” You made, you signed it, he beat your ass black and blue with it. The less than stellar efforts were farmed out to other teachers for use.

This last one we’ve passed off as a ping-pong paddle. It is that shape. Although I know few ping-pong paddles made of ½ thick oak. But still.

So KD asked if he can make a paddle now. The brain boggles. Luckily SG reverts to HS wood shop and says no, dude, the project everyone starts with is bookends. You can do that for Christmas and then we do shelves and after that we’ll think about paddles.

Yeah right.

SUPERSTAR Releases Today!

Everything I write affects me emotionally. But there are some stories that do this more than others. Superstar is one such story. Based on the unrequited-groupie-love-song that both Karen Carpenter and Bette Midler made famous, Superstar is a rarity for me: a pure love story about a young man falling for a cad of a rock star.

He told him he loved him. He told him he'd be back.

It's also about the resiliency of life and love and how both can surprise us at the most unlikely of times.

It's the first story I've written that's set in my new home, Seattle and you'll get glimpses of the beauty of the city and the Pacific Northwest as you join my main character on the 180-foot high Aurora Bridge, also known as the "suicide bridge." It's here where Superstar begins and ends as my main character, Leon, reminisces about his love for a grungy rock superstar before taking a fatal plunge. But someone is waiting and watching, and suicides don't always go off as planned...

Hope you'll check out the story, available only in ebook. You can pick up a copy here.

Synopsis
When Leon first saw him singing in a dive bar, he was mesmerized. But he didn’t know he’d be going home with the dangerously sexy lead singer that night. He couldn’t have predicted he’d fall in love. But then, Leon never expected his love to be reciprocated. Yet the hot singer with the gravely voice told Leon he loved him; told him he’d come back.

So, why, three years after that fateful night, is Leon perched at the edge of a bridge, ready to make a fatal leap?

Superstar is the story of a groupie and the rock star he loves. It’s the tale of a man on the edge, both literally and figuratively...and it’s a timeless story of love found and lost lost, all set to a driving rock beat.

Superstar is about promises made, promises broken, and dreams unfulfilled. And, ultimately, it’s about realizing that love can come along when one least expects it—and in the unlikeliest of places...

Excerpt
...I closed Olive’s that night. It wasn’t so much the crowd, or the beer, or even the cute allegedly straight boy in the cargo shorts and Cold Play T-shirt who made eyes at me throughout the night.

No. It was you.

And your music. Back then, you were just the lead singer in a band called Voiles and I was mesmerized by both your look and your sound. A bass guitar and a drummer backed you up, and if I passed either of them on the street today, I would not recognize them. For me, you stood all alone on that tiny plywood stage with a black curtain behind you. When that incredible, melodic, craggy voice emerged, it was as if the physical confines of the room disappeared. I could see only you…and what a view that was. Your tousled auburn hair, streaked through with gold, practically obscured your face. Your rail-thin body, packed into skinny jeans and a Ramones T-shirt, was like some post punk boy’s fantasy. And when you jerked your head to get the hair out of your face, the motion revealed a chiseled face, dark chocolate eyes, and a look that seemed both faraway and incredibly sad.

It made me want to take you in my arms.

I suppose that’s the effect you were after. I hate to think that the mournful gaze and the counter-culture, retro rock star clothes were calculated, just another part of the act as much as the microphone on its stand, the drum kit, the lights, the amps, the electrical cords.

I hate to think that.

But it wasn’t just your look that caught me, entrapping me in a snare that I would find impossible to free myself from for the next three years. It was your song. Your sad, sad song. Your voice was that of a man who had smoked two packs of cigarettes a day for decades: scarred, veering on raspy. It was the voice of a man much older than your years, which appeared to number in the twenties. You were the love child of Leonard Cohen and Rufus Wainwright.

Your lyrics, coal black, smoldered around age-old topics like lost love, loneliness, alienation, and an inability to find home. Cheery stuff.

It had me sobbing into my beer most of the night.

And when I wasn’t sobbing, I was imagining what you’d look like naked.

There was a curious combination pulsing inside me that night: lust, despair, hunger…

But I never had any real hopes that I would actually be meeting you that night. No idea that I would actually see what the wiry body under those clothes looked like. No clue that I would come to know the feel of those swollen lips on my own...

Get your copy of Superstar here.

Candle Readers Possess The Power.......

And Lilith, the first woman, did see the vision within the flickering of a candle flame that did show her Jaweh’s displeasure and how He would supplant her in Adam’s favor with Eve. And Lilth became Demon. — ancient Jewish text.


I’m expecting an old crone, candle-making seeming to insinuate black-magic or even witchery. I’m pleasantly surprised by Jfay, wax artisan, who is an attractive woman, late thirties, with an absolutely charming southern accent, “Y’all come on in.” Her brown hair is perfectly coiffed. Her eyes are dark chocolate. Her lips are colored with just a hint of pale red. “I thought we could have cold Coronas and jalapeño snacks while we discuss the candle in question.

Our chairs are grouped around a round coffee table upon which sits opened beer bottles punctuating a bed of ice cupped within a large punch bowl parenthesized by two smaller bowls almost overflowing with spicy home-made chips.

“You’ve a candle color definitely in mind?” she asks and drinks some of her beer straight from the bottle.

“I’m thinking black, maybe representing the dark and the unknown but, to be quite candid, I’m not quite sure why I think it should be black; just that it should be,” Kenneth says. “If you can, please, include at least some brown, since I have an unmistakable feeling that those we seek are buried in the ground. You might slip in a bit of white by way of insinuating my hoped-for enlightenment.”

“All which can certainly be done,” Jfay says and reaches for a jalapeño chip which she puts in her mouth and crunches between her white teeth. “Scent?”

“Pine scent,” Kenneth says.

Before I can stop myself, I say, “And clove.”

This is Kenneth’s candle, and I’ve inadvertently intruded; I’m supposedly there as an interested bystander soaking up pointers. “I am sorry,” I say. “That just slipped out.”

“Pine and clove?” Jfay queries for clarification.

“Just pine,” I say. “I hope there’ll be no more such uncontrollable outbursts on my part. I don’t know what got into me.”

Exerpt From BLACK CANDLE READER, by William Maltese


BLACK CANDLE READER, by William Maltese, is one of the stories in MLR Press' newly released ghostly anthology, LOVE ME DEAD, in which Kenneth Black is a Candle-Reader, one of those possessed with the power to read into a candle's flames to seek knowledge and find answers to secrets thought long hidden in the past.

He is on a quest to find the burial spot of missing family members thought to have been killed by Nazis and buried in a mass grave somewhere in a forest long long ago.

Come take the journey with Kenneth which leads him to the doorstep of Candle Artist Jfay to commission the perfect candle to show him the way. Thus the BLACK CANDLE READER Candle is born from the pages of William Maltese's story and brought into reality by Jfay.

You can find both on Wick'd Reads at http://www.wickdreads.com/lovemedead.htm
Male Erotica

Gangbangs, Dildos, and Tie-downs - Oh my!

Top-10 Sexual Fantasies: Your turn to fess up!

Sex is as old as... All right, sex never gets old, only we do (please, don't remind me). Sex, as a concept, though, has been alive longer than most species, hence, the "which came first" argument. Sexual fantasy surely sprung to life shortly thereafter. The truth is, since time began, men and women have fantasized their respective ways into many a satisfying orgasm. One can find page after online page of Top-10 sexual fantasies for both men and women. Obviously, we all do it—fantasize, that is.

Even us LGBT... folk.

But, I've yet to come across a Top-10 online list for any of us. Maybe I'm not perusing the correct venues. If so, someone point the way!

I am curious, however, since I'm considered in both, the sexual AND gender minorities, are my fantasies "abnormal" according to head docs and/or societal norms?

I mean, hasn't everyone fantasized, for example, surprising your straight neighbor in his laundry room only to coax him over his washing machine while on the heavy-duty spin cycle? (Okay, maybe that's just me). But, maybe, you've pined for your UPS guy to invite you into his truck to personally help your with your package? Or maybe, you've fantasized about shopping with your BFF, only to have her lend you a hand in the dressing room? (Maybe, not)

Time to share your most private thoughts. What turns you on?

What are your sexual fantasies?

Email your fantasies to Top10SexualFantasy@gmail.com

Anonymous emails accepted—preferred. (Please only specify - sexuality & gender of person leaving poll data)

Your privacy will be respected. All information - name, age, sex, email, location, etc. - will be kept confidential.

At the start of the new year, Top-10 lists for everyone across the LGBT Spectrum will be posted on my site for all eternity to drool over.

Let's show them what we want!

Bryl R. Tyne

Top10SexualFantasy@gmail.com

Bryl R. Tyne is a wrangler by nature and a writer by choice, published with Noble Romance Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Dreamspinner Press, and STARbooks Press. You can find out more about Bryl at: bryltyne.com

This post is X-posted to the The Rainbow Studio Blog, Defying Description Blog, and Bryl R. Tyne's Blog.