About Night's Kiss
Written by Catherine Lundoff
93 pages / 50700 words
ISBN: 1-933389-27-3
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
In Night’s Kiss, author Catherine Lundoff presents a collection of erotic lesbian tales. The fifteen stories featured in the anthology touch on the past, present and future, from a stolen night with a female Elvis impersonator in Las Vegas, to vampiristic encounters.
There are lady pirates on the high seas, reunions in Paris, all of the settings anyone could ask for. Even better, the stories feature all of the emotion a reader could want too. They’re by turns funny, moving, and utterly sexy. Two of the stories in this collection have been accepted for ''Best of'' anthologies. Get your copy today!
Review
Andrea Miller, contributor to Naughty, writes: Catherine Lundoff’s Night’s Kiss begins with two drag king Elvises getting it on in Las Vegas. And though just that one dazzling hilarious tale would make buying the book worth it, Lundoff gives us another fourteen sexy stories that span oceans, galaxies, centuries.
Sample
Left Bank
It is Paris in winter and your kiss haunts my dreams. It hides in the sleeping corners of my mind like the memory of spring, sending out green shoots when I least expect it. I walk along the Seine, your presence brushing against me with spider-fingers of longing and desire. You said you would meet me here in the gloomy shadows of Notre Dame and here I wait, watching the lovers along the riverbank, the sleeping trees. I can feel every little kiss you ever bestowed upon me caressing my skin until I am a hive of bees, buzzing with each change in the breeze, each minute on my watch.
We met here, I think. Or maybe it was a little to the right, on the next bridge. You, I can never forget -- black hair, laughing black eyes, your body’s gentle curves. Those same curves pressed tight against my body. My body remembers what my mind does not: the scent of your hair, the sound of your breath. They are etched on my flesh until it warms beneath the blanket of their weight.
I check my watch again and force myself to recognize that my eagerness has made me early once again while you are invariably late. I waited at a café for two hours for you once, then again at the entrance to the Louvre for an age or so it seemed. Even the tourists sympathized, seeing in me the glow of disappointed love that everyone longs to see in the City of Lights. It brings the beauties of the place into clear relief, for what is true love if it does not have an evil twin?
I know you will appear if I wait long enough. As yet, you have never disappointed me. Not completely. My body trembles with memories of our lovemaking, of being inside you with fingers, tongue, a candle from the bedside. Your thighs wrapped around my shoulders, your groans filling my ears. I am wet with anticipation despite the bite of the wind, the hint of rain in the air.
I think perhaps I will take you to the Catacombs today. There we can search for a deserted corner in the midst of bones and death where we will celebrate love and life in spite of our surroundings. Your eyes in the dim tunnels will be my harbor lights, guiding me toward sanctuary from the storms outside. Like the tourists I, too, crave contrasts.