La Sensazione…



You do it for me

In every way imaginable!


I can feel the sensation

Of your whispered words

All along my skin…

Making shiver with desire

As my flesh is magnetised

And attracted only to you…


My body clenches

With the anticipation

Of your elusive touch

As sweet heat suffuses me

Needing more

Soooo much more…


Feeling my arousal

Pulsing to life

Throughout my system

My mind wanders

To being kissed and lavished

Decadently by you…


Thoughts are flying

Of your handsome image

Sending me over

As waves of pleasure

Cascade out

Making my whole body convulse

In the most delightful possible way

Of a pure and perfect rapture!


 © debradml (2014)

Meet The Damned: Magenta Nero

Meet Magenta Nero…. One of the crew from Pen of the Damned, she is an exceptionally talented lady and fellow Aussie! ~ Debs xox

The Road to Nowhere...

Who’s next on the chopping block? Ahhh… here we have a fine little lady currently living in Australia. Don’t let her classic profile or the term ‘lady’ fool you! Ms. Nero can get as smoky as any erotic writer I know. I’ve followed her blog since shortly after she began posting on it, and if you’d like to dip your toes into something a bit steamier, be sure to stop by. Magenta is strutting her way over to the darker, seedier side of the alley and sipping the bitter nectar we call horror.

A Tint of Madness
Magenta Nero

MagentaNeroThe first time I was captivated by horror was when I read The Book of Revelation in the New Testament as a child. The apocalyptic visions of St. John were terrifying but also seductive and romantic. It was a graphic introduction to the idea that the universe is a tension between…

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Meet the Damned: Joseph A. Pinto

I have recently become aware of this talented crew “Pen of the Damned” and Joseph Pinto and his talented writing skills… so had to share with you all… Enjoy! ~ Debs xox

The Road to Nowhere...

Next up in the Meet the Damned roll-call is one of our co-founders and The Tale Weaver himself, Joseph A. Pinto. Joe takes to pen and paper the way a fish takes to water. He masterfully crafts intriguing, evocative and wonderfully unique yarns of horror that leave the reader marveling over the inspiration; glancing over their shoulder in desperation; and awed at the precision with which the story is told. Not only does he strut his stuff in our darkest nightmares, but he is also a poet, lyricist, and the author of the beautifully touching contemporary fantasy novella, Dusk and Summer, dedicated to his father. Now, let’s find out what makes this Maestro of the Macabre tick!

Who Dat? It’s The Tale Weaver come to bare his soul!
Joseph A. Pinto

JosephAPinto_HeadShot_LargeI was damned as a kid.

How could I not be? As a six-year-old back in 1976, my…

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“Kafka on the Shore” by Author Haruki Murakami


I came across this book via Tumblr, which I am currently reading…. it’s an interesting read so far and I wanted to share!


Kafka on the Shore, a tour de force of metaphysical reality, is powered by two remarkable characters: a teenage boy, Kafka Tamura, who runs away from home either to escape a gruesome oedipal prophecy or to search for his long-missing mother and sister; and an aging simpleton called Nakata, who never recovered from a wartime affliction and now is drawn toward Kafka for reasons that, like the most basic activities of daily life, he cannot fathom. Their odyssey, as mysterious to them as it is to us, is enriched throughout by vivid accomplices and mesmerizing events. Cats and people carry on conversations, a ghostlike pimp employs a Hegel-quoting prostitute, a forest harbors soldiers apparently unaged since World War II, and rainstorms of fish (and worse) fall from the sky. There is a brutal murder, with the identity of both victim and perpetrator a riddle – yet this, along with everything else, is eventually answered, just as the entwined destinies of Kafka and Nakata are gradually revealed, with one escaping his fate entirely and the other given a fresh start on his own.


An Excerpt:

“Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That’s part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads – at least that’s where I imagine it – there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you’ll live forever in your own private library.”
~ “Kafka on the Shore” by Author Haruki Marakami


Sweet Nectar

A delicious piece by Shawn Standfast ~ Debs xox

A Blog Less Traveled

Shadows Linger

Wine flows over my tongue
Smooth, filling my senses
My eyes caress your body
As I savor sweet nectar

The warmth of your velvet skin
Touches mine as you pass me by
Your sweet scent fills my lungs
As I exhale with a mournful sigh

Your gentle voice captivates me
Longing to taste those moistened lips
To hold you close just one more time
As I dive into those deep blue eyes

Passions flare as soft music plays
Our bodies sway, moving in rhythm
Beauty burns bright in the dim light
As shadows linger and memory fades

Copyright © 2014 Shawn D. Standfast. All rights reserved.

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Foreplay by Megan Kay

A extraordinary piece by the talented Megan Kay! ~ Enjoy Debs xox

Megan Kay's Blog

in the fantasies
of others words
I rest
my naked frame
nestling the bound pages
across my chaise lounging torso
at first
that you
had filled the wing back chair
it was your heated glare
that sent a wave of chills
over my pale flesh
it was the script
that dripped
my eyes traveled faster
my breath deepening
as the words of desire
my core
It was the sound of your belt
being pulled through the buckle
that startled
my wandering hand
to pause
my body demanded more
Then a zipper
caught my attention
my eyes darting
to find
your long body
sunken so sublimely
your hand reaches in
to release
The sound
of the book
tumbling to the ground
startled my glare
yet conjured your lips to curl
in that smirk
I know
oh so well
Your girth
so utterly perfect
as it…

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The Power of Love by Richard Ankers

Must read piece by the talented a Richard Ankers! ~ Debs xox

Richard Ankers

I’d seen the eyes in the dark before. They had watched me from the shadows, observed me. Like lanterns with black candles, I would catch a glimpse of them as though in a dream, then they would be gone, snuffed out. I don’t know how I knew they belonged to a she, but they did. Perhaps, it was the subtle scent of nightshade that lingered in the air, perhaps not, but I was sure she wanted me. She desired the only thing that was truly my own; she desired my widower’s soul.

I tried to run. I left my homeland and travelled across the seas, over mountains and to a place where the stars met the horizon the two melting into one, lovers united in eternal darkness. She was waiting for me there, I was hers. She let slip the shawls that concealed herself, stood revealed. Yet, despite the curves…

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