My new book was released June 11th by Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing in
ebook and in print. The reviews are have been rolling in and I am humbled. I am
so glad it is being met with such a warm reception. Thank you so
much.
Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences Is
the story about a young woman who meets a young, rising black opera star
post-symphony at an elegant reception held in one of the symphony benefactors
mansions in San Francisco.
A greeting, a touch, a shared breath. Their worlds collide
and ignite in an erotic explosion of volcanic proportions
that neither could resist. How about a bit of a blurb and a tasty
teaser?
Enjoy ~ ☼ღஜ ﾚo√乇 ¸.☆¨¯`*.✿.*˜"*°
♥
Moonbeams of Unintended
Consequences
by
Muffy
Wilson
THAT night…
SHE wore a flowing, form fitted white spaghetti strapped
gown that cascaded in tumbled silken folds to her abdomen
and revealed her
breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts. Her
eyes reflected an emerald
depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were
framed by neat, arched
brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat
announced the rhythm of
her life. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia
nestled in the curves
of her auburn. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage
announced her arrival
as she glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a
dove, into her center
seat. She was alone…but not for long.
Would she regret her indulgence?
HE was a towering, self-assured giant of a black man,
chest
broad and arms outstretched in opulent black leather. His
intense black eyes locked
irresistibly onto her and declared his hunger. The opera
house erupted with his
full bass-baritone harmony. His musical seduction began,
and his hypnotic gaze
was met by her eager response as she answered his desire
with a blush.
But, was his desire enough?
THEY spent an insatiable night together in Room 457 of
the Historic Whitcomb Hotel locked in a magnetic embrace
riding moonbeams of
passion and ribbons of desire that wove them
irretrievably together in ways that
only the future would disclose—a future neither of them
ever anticipated. Would
the secrets of the past, of that one night, prove too
much to bear as the future
unfolds the truth and the depths of her desperate
need?
Would the life and death struggle she faced overshadow
the seeds of love planted a decade
earlier?
The orchestra warmed up in a disconnected, faltering collection of notes, strings and
horns as the wealthy patrons filed into the theatre and were settled. She wore
a flowing yet form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown with a backline to
the small of her back above the well-rounded cheeks of her ass. The cascading
neckline tumbled in silken folds to her abdomen which revealed her breath in
the soft rise of her alabaster breasts.
She was of medium height with an envious rubenesque shape most men admired: long, shapely
legs nipped tightly at the ankle tapering to narrow, small demi-feet elegantly
adorned in satin heeled
slippers with scarlet, well-pedicured peek-a-boo toes,
full breasted bosom with pert erect nipples stretched against the fabric of her
gown, round hips to accentuated a narrow waist and a lovely pleasing back
that joined all her sumptuous qualities. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth
with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that
narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her
life. Her rounded cheekbones accentuated the graceful curve of her jaw line
as it narrowed to a slightly dimpled chin below heart-shaped ruby lips. Her
only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her
auburn curls that caressed the pale white opaque flesh of her face. The heavy floral
fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival. She glided elegantly to
her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone. The house lights dimmed yet she glowed, demurely, in the white gown as if she were
unmistakably the main attraction.
She stared as he walked onstage: a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, arms
outstretched in black opulent leather to embrace the audience, she felt to
embrace her. His piercing gaze locked irresistibly onto her, in all her radiant
purity. His intense black eyes seemed to declare his hunger.
The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. He sang, it seemed to Jordan,
to no one but her as she smiled quite involuntarily. Each throaty,
reverberating note he released strummed every nerve to her very foundation. His musical seduction began, and would surely end she
thought, with her in his outstretched arms.
Her petulant feminine petals nestled in the protective mound where her thighs joined.
They slowly filled with her eager response and unfolded the protection of
the essential pearl of her existence as she answered his desire with a blush.
She
sat through the entire performance tethered to his gaze. The magnetism she could
not resist overtook her fully and her responses were involuntary yet welcome.
She felt his gaze through her gown caress her, push her, tease her and
excite her with every deep vibrato he released into the
hall.
She was, therefore, completely surprised when the lights raised and the fluid embrace of
his voice was gradually replaced by the swelling bustle of movement
from the exiting audience. She looked to her left and right, then up to
the stage beautifully shrouded by long red opulent velvet curtains separating
her from the object of the gathered passion in her
belly.
Her reverie broken, she returned to the moment at hand. As she rose, the romantic trance
invoked by his voice broke, the hold eased, and dropped shard by shard from
her body so that she could move. She gathered her wits, shook off the spell
and seemed to float in the afterglow with the others to the atrium. She exited
the main entrance to the broad threshold above the street
below.
She took a few steps outside and shocked by the damp San Francisco night, drew her wrap
ever tighter to her heaving breast, her nipples still erect from the
seduction of the opera star. She paused a moment, enjoyed the remains of her trance,
and proceeded down the steps to hail a
cab.
The after symphony reception was held at the home of one of San Francisco’s most prominent
elite, a huge supporter and member of the Symphony Board of Directors,
Drake Morrison. Drake and his wife Amelia were friends of Jordan’s parents who
were absent because of a holiday in the Orient. Jordan’s parents were regular
supporters of the Symphony and met the Morrisons frequently during
intermission on most opening nights for a glass of champagne. She had been invited as
a distraction from her solitude to join them on opening night at the reception
in their home. She agreed to attend eagerly as she often attended the
symphony with her Mother when her Father was
unable.
She felt her low-belly tighten; her heart pounded and her palms tingled with perspiration
in anticipation. The main opera lead and cast always came to the receptions.
The non-profit organization relied upon their attendance to boost
donations so she knew she would see him here and she wondered if he would even
recognize her or if the reverie of connection had been hers
alone.
When he entered with his entourage, he towered over everyone with his black
elegance. He was beautiful, a stunning black onyx statue carved to magnificent
perfection. When she saw him, only feet away, she staggered slightly as he turned
to her with an outstretched hand in greeting, eyes locked in a magnetic
embrace. She lost her breath and her heart in one moment as she touched his
fingertips with hers.
He clasped her hand with the both of his and pulled her close to his body with a knowing
smile curled on the curve of his chiseled jaw line. She felt his heat, was
hypnotized by his aroma. She knew then that he remembered her in the audience; he
had sung to her, he had sent his words in musical notes on foils to surround
her, lift and seduce her.
The moment was suspended when he was directed to further introductions. He bowed ever so
slightly with his departure and barely whispered, a bientot, mem’selle, his breath searing her
neckline. She weakened in his presence and felt ill-balanced
on a passionate precipice as he moved away. Their arms
outstretched unwilling to be parted, her hand slid from his as their fingertips
relinquished an electric hold.
“A bientot, mem’selle,” he had said.
She hung on every word with rapt expectation for their next meeting as he moved into
the crowd of admirers.
She watched as he worked the room, seducing male and female alike with his charisma
and brilliance. He was a master in the simple ministration of his charm. He spoke
with confidence, smiled at nonsensical nervous banter and made everyone
most relaxed in his presence with an effortless touch.
The night edged on and she resigned she was like all the others, seduced by the
sheer presence of the man. She sought out the Morrisons and bid them a grateful
goodnight. She went into the library where her wrap was hung. A manly black hand
extended and took it from her grip and as she spun, he curled her into his
embrace as well as the shawl.
“My room key at the Hotel Whitcomb. The
town car service I called to take you there is waiting outside. Room 457. Have I
presumed too much?” as he pressed himself to her body and the key card into her
hand. The low melodious tone of his voice melted any thought of
resistance.
“I, ah…No, you have not presumed beyond expectation.” She kept her voice low in spite of their momentary privacy.
“The Morrisons are long time friends of my parents who don’t yet consider me a
grown woman.” She smiled into his down-turned eyes and smelled his heat. “I thank
you for your discretion.”
He ran his fingertips from the wrap on her shoulder down the inside of her arm to the soft swell of her breast and
lingered. His fingers caressed her naked flesh under her arm above the cut on
the satin of her gown.
Her knees buckled under the weight of her desire and he caught her as she fell into his full embrace.
“Oh, God,” she breathlessly gasped and looked up into his dark eyes. “Do all women respond to you like
this?”
“You are not all women."
© Muffy
Wilson
passionate, timeless....
Sensual,
passionate, timeless.... Muffy Wilson makes the reader
feel as though he/she is
in the room with all the characters. This lovingly
written story of love,
family and healing is so well told, you will find it hard
to put down. Your
heart will long for more and you wants to continue
reading. Reading it out-loud
with my partner makes it more real than reading in
silence. It is a story of
love, sacrifice and transcendence - enough to mend a
broken heart. I highly
recommend this book.
~ Yoong
"book worm"
unusual!
This is an erotica
like no erotica I’ve ever read before. The book is
written with lots of
metaphorically sensuous language, which is in itself an
erotic experience. The
love story of Jordan and Mason, their two separate
families and the price of
coming together, gave this erotica another unusual twist.
There’s heat,
passion, love and strong family commitment.
Enjoy!
~ Hawk
between Strangers: A Timeless Romantic
Expression
This book is a
wonderful characterization of love between strangers, a
timeless romantic
expression that brings all lovers to the same destiny.
This is the story of struggle,
the telling of a long kept secret, the humbling
sublimation of asking for help,
the private struggles of a man torn by love and pained by
loss. It is the story
of how children can knit broken lives together with love
and the ancient,
precocious innocence that only children possess. It is
the story of growth,
love, passion and submission.
It is a story of the struggle between love and acceptance
with a poetic
elegance similar to that of Jane Austen. And I loved it
from the dedicati
on
to the final page.
will plead with the author to reconcile their love. I
kept asking the author as
I read
Muffy Wilson’s
eloquent prose in her newest book, Moonbeams of
Unintended Consequences, is a
milestone in romance novels. She weaves a unique plot
that will keep your
interest page after page. Jordan is the mother of a
daughter, Lily, who is in
very ill. When her former lover brings a new dimension to
the story, you will
plead with the author to reconcile their love. I kept
asking the author as I
read, will Lily’s innocence bring Jordan and her lover
back to the love they
once enjoyed? You will find how Lily, both with her
illness and innocence can
spark the flames to refuel the passion of love from the
past. Muffy’s
descriptions and imagery goes beyond the realm of prose
to poetry. The dialogue
is outstandingly believable. When I read scenes of
interaction in her book, I
felt I was in the room with the
characters.
You will love this story and the
amazing talent of Muffy
Wilson.
I give 5 Stars to Moonbeams of
Unintended
Consequences.
~ Pablo
Michaels
sexy, but so much more...
Muffy asked me to
give this book a critical reading pre-release, and I was
pleased to find it is
a book with a full plot and a range of realistic
characters. Romantic, yes;
sexy, yes; but so much more. A book you can get your
teeth into.
George
fell in love with from the beginning to the end of this
...
This story takes
the reader on a pleasurable cruise of a renewed romance
brought to the reader
from the past of two characters. I fell in love with from
the beginning to the
end of this book. Muffy Wilson as the captain brings us
passion and hopes for
renewed love through the descriptions she intricately
blends, savoring our
palettes with delicacies we never forget. We are catered
to hopes for a cure
for Jordan’s daughter and what it might mean to her long
lost lover.
Complications seem insurmountable, but with each turn of
the page, a new
horizon is seen, bringing a mood for hope and continued
passion between the
main character, Jordan, her daughter, Lily, and the man
from her past, who will
steal your heart with his compassion, love, and
understanding. I was blind by
the interracial relationship, observing the man who is
more than an ordinary
man. He gives us hope for Jordan and Lily. Muffy guides
us through treacherous
obstacles, only to restore our wishes for her sacred love
and survival of her
daughter and the resolution of a love affair from the
past that is renewed with
each page I turned. I full-hearted give Moonbeams and
Unintended Consequences
5 Stars. I
thoroughly recommend this book to
everyone.
~ Michael
Jordan
Muffy,
author of erotic, romantic stories about love, sex, hope
and passion, was born
in San Antonio, Texas, to traditional parents. With two
older brothers, she was
the youngest, the family "princess," indulged
and pampered. She
adored her older brothers, following them everywhere and
was surrounded by
love, stimulation, and pets. Her father was a career
Colonel and pilot in the
U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel
extensively. The family
lived in most points between Alaska and France. Muffy
spent her formative years
in Europe and came of age in
France.
Returning from France with her
family, Muffy finished hig
h
school in Northern California and attended the University of
California
, Davis, and majored
in
Business Management. Muffy entered the work force,
independent with a fierce
work ethic, and retired at 39 from IBM as a Mid-West
Regional Director in the
Real Estate and Construction Division. She and her
husband moved to a small
Island in northern Wisconsin where they owned a historic
tavern, restaurant and
resort business which they since have sold. They now live
a charmed life by the
water in SW Florida.
Muffy
pretends to be a serious real estate business person but,
in real life,
indulges her private interest in writing sexy short
stories and sensual
literotica ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion.
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Previously
Published:
Secret
Cravings Publishing, Oysters & Chocolate,
Decadent Publishing, Ravenous Romance,
Yellow Silk Dreams
Publishing
Cheerleaders
in Heat
~ August
2015
Something Funny Happened
on the Way to the War
~ Dec
2015
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Live ~ Laugh ~
Love
with Passion
The really is a story outside the normal run of romantic novels. You can call it a 'proper' book - even literature. This one is going to be around for years. Well done, Muffy.
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