Commencing this blog post as though in the middle of a conversation …
One of my favorite pieces from the upcoming “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” is a story I wrote called “Tyronian Rapture“.
“Tyronian Rapture” is a historical LGBT Erotic Romance. Focusing on Meredith, a young white well off women who is enraptured by Regina, the black daughter of the family’s house servant.
This piece, whiles short is very powerful because of the story inside of the Erotica. This is a story of secret love which it vexed twofold; the fact that it is lesbian love, and the fact that it is also interracial love. Two times the taboo.
Please, enjoy this excerpt. I pray that you enjoy it.
By: Adonis Mann
© Adonis Mann & All Authors Publishing House
Cherry Blossom petals from a tree procured in Japan carried adrift with the breeze, the smell of humidity and grass rode past, wafting across beautiful Regina’s face and all I could do was sit and stare. She was lovely in every sense of the limited word, for her resplendence was akin to a celestial being. An angel, to be sure. Like none I had ever laid eyes upon. She took my breath away, and I was content to let her.
Her large eyes, chocolatey. Her skin, like the finest grade of caramel. Her unwieldy, black curls pulled to the back of her head in a bun. And the conundrum lie in my desire to see them lose and entangled in my hands. A coveting more trenchant than my knowledge that it was ungodly. I was captured by my dear Regina’s beauty. Her full lips longed to be licked, while I imagined that her smooth skin and voluptuous curves yearned to be caressed.
From a distance I basked in her allurement, secretly—watching as she picked the wild flowers from the field in order to prepare a centerpiece for our dinner table for tea. If I could walk through the window ajar as a phantom, then as a phantom I would delight in her existence.
The impasse, my predilection. The penchant to fancy the reprobate. And, whilst my heart and mind remained enthralled by my point of desire, my body lay captive inside of this wretched place.
“Meredith,” Mother called, startling me from my hypnosis, Regina. Such was the effect she had on me. In my dreams I touched every inch of her exquisite dark sheath, then kissed every fraction, ensuring to not miss a spot.
“Meredith, child, come here. Must you always sit there like a proper simpleton, staring upon nothingness? Come here at once!”
“Yes mother,” I replied as I lowered my head to the ground in reverence of her heed. A curtsey followed.
“Mary, do you see this here?” Mother asked Regina’s mother, the head handmaiden of our family home. Their family had been with ours for years, therefore a trusted lot. “This child is so restless and overzealous …” Mother indirectly reprimanded, addressing Mary while speaking of me, then ending her admonition with a tsk. “Meredith, why do you trot about like a boy? ‘Tis not the proper behavior for a lady.”
My reply was a humble shrug, and the lowering of my eyes to the ground. Mother never knew when to vacate a subject, therefore continued with her vexing drivel, concluding her parlance with a “… would you please sew it, darling? Thank you.” the statement was followed by a flip of the wrist in dismissal of sweet Mary whom then left the room.
I sincerely hope that you’ve enjoyed reading this excerpt as much as I’ve enjoyed writing the story. I pray that you are ready and willing to give “Syncopation of Ravishing Intensity” as shot once it is released this winter.