Thursday, October 17, 2013

The Erotic Nature of Dryads Explored in The Tower Lord’s Guest

Ellie originally wrote this for the FourSeduced Muses blog spot, and we thought we’d ask her to repeat it here, six months later. It tells a little of the seduction and erotic play to be found in The Tower Lord’s Guest.

NOTE: The extract below has been abridged to exclude the explicit elements of this love scene. The scene in the book contains explicit description and is not suitable for readers under 18 years of age.

Take it away, Ellie:

Myth, legend and fairytale are full of creatures who make the dark, dark forest their home. Dryads and wood nymphs feature in more than few, with dryads being known for capturing unwary men and sequestering them for hundreds of years. As a child, I often wondered why. As an adult, I figured there had to be a reason the stories for children were so vague.
So, when I added them to my forest, I decided that dryads like sex, really liked sex, and then I decided that their tastes had to be many and varied. Sure, in the stories the dryads use magic to bewitch their prey, but what if one, just once, wanted a lover who said yes and meant it?

The dryads in The Tower Lord’s Guest don’t play a major part in the story, serving mainly as objects of interest for Samlah, a newly minted seer, to practice her scrying on. Samlah is the daughter of a merchant noble, who discovers the man she’s betrothed to intends to give her to beings from another dimension. When she tells her parents, they beat her for telling tall stories and she runs away—into the darkest and deepest of woods, hoping to find a haven before her family can catch up with her.

The Tower Lord’s Guest is a dark erotic fantasy in which Samlah, a merchant noble’s daughter, flees into the dark, dark woods and finds refuge in a tower known only by reputation. Along the way, she escapes trolls, attracts the attention of satyrs and learns to be a seer. When she dreams of her true love, she uses her training to find him, but when she voices her need to leave, life in the tower suddenly becomes more restrictive. Trapped by a contract she didn’t know she’d agreed to, Samlah finds release of sorts by spying on the creatures of the forest, and learning about their sex lives.

Dryads, she learns, don’t always use magic to make men their willing prey. Some use their own, somewhat unpractised, version of old-fashioned seduction…

Amrae tilted her chin at to the huntsman at Tallakene’s feet. “Pay attention, sister. He’s waking up.”

Indeed, he was. Samlah could see Beren’s eyes fluttering with the effort of trying to open. With a word, Tallakene bespoke the grass, gently taking the huntsman’s arms and drawing them out so that his wrists were stretched over his head when the grass entwined its filaments around them.

Waking as he was, Beren flinched at the light touch as the stems secured themselves, the fluttering of his eyelids turning to abruptly wide-eyed wakefulness when he realized he was bound.

“Sons of light and sky!” he swore, pulling against his bonds, when he noticed Tallakene sitting beside him. “Who in all the lands are you?”

Tallakene looked down at him. “I am your lover,” she replied. “Do you love me?”

“Are you a demoness?” Beren gasped.

His question brought a sad smile to Tallakene’s lips.

“No,” she replied, gliding her hand over him again and letting her stroke smooth its way up his stomach and across his chest. “I’m no more a demoness, than you are a demon.”

“What are you?” he asked, his eyes watching her face.

“I,” Tallakene responded, moving so that she straddled his stomach as she knelt, “am your lover-to-be.” She bent forward, bringing her lips towards his.

Beren turned his head. “Wait!” he said. “Wait! What are you, really?”

Clearly vexed, Tallakene sat upright. “I am a forest nymph, a dryad, a woman of the trees. A lady of the wood. Love me?”

He squirmed beneath her, and groaned. “You are a demon.”

Tallakene let out a throaty chuckle. “I’m no more a demon, than you are.” Bending towards his face, she said again, “Love me?”

This time, when he would have turned his face away, she caught it between her palms, sealing her lips to his, and catching his eyes in the depths of her own.

He resisted, bucking beneath her, and pulling against the grass that bound his wrists, his arms and his legs.

Tallakene rode him, kissing him until his lips surrendered, then she extended the kiss, drawing him in, releasing him, nibbling her way along his lips, his jaw, the soft line of his throat.

“Love me,” she murmured, raising her head to brush a kiss in the middle of his forehead. “Yield to me,” she said, recapturing his lips and releasing them. “Give your will to me,” she whispered, kissing along his Adam’s apple as he swallowed with fear and desire.

Her hands followed. “Gentle to me,” she said, brushing the tension from his shoulders. “Find passion with me,” she urged, smoothing the creases from his undershirt.

“Love me,” she said.

Samlah watched as the dryad whispered, “Yield to me. Stay by my side.”

“Witch,” Beren protested, pulling against the grass that bound him, but unable to break the lock of her eyes.

Tallakene crouched over him, placing her weight on her hands and letting the strands of her hair form a curtain around their faces.

“Yield to me,” she breathed, and Samlah knew their lips were close enough to touch. “Yield.”

Beren’s form grew still beneath her, but Samlah heard the harshness of his breathing.
“Please,” he whispered, “have mercy on an old man.”

“Join with me,” the dryad urged, “and you will have nothing to fear from old age.”

“Lady.” Beren’s protest sounded strangled.

“Join with me?” Tallakene pleaded, her forehead against his. “You must say you will,” she urged, “or it cannot be.”

There was another choked sound from beneath her.

Tallakene sat up straighter, poised. “Will you be mine?”

This time, Beren’s reply was clear. “For all eternity, Lady.”


NOTE: The extract above has been abridged to exclude the explicit elements of this love scene. The scene in the book contains explicit description and is not suitable for readers under 18 years of age.

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More about Ellie Moonwater:
Ellie Moonwater is the pen name used by Eleanor Maine to write her more erotic tales. As Ellie, she says “I love writing erotic tales of paranormal and fantasy romance set on faraway worlds or in faraway lands. Sometimes I wander into the realms of erotica, and sometimes I explore ideas that make some people uncomfortable, but my characters are my love, and their wish is my command. ”

Where to find Ellie Moonwater:

Other books by Ellie Moonwater:

Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat (C.M. Simpson Publishing, 2013)


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