Slaves to Desire by Eli Gilić (@GilicEli)
Published by Sinful Press (@SinfulPress)
Just 99c/p Throughout October!
Slaves to Desire by Eli Gilić is a unique, beautifully written erotic short story collection that deftly weaves fact and fiction. Originally published in Serbian, Sinful Press is over the moon to present the English language version of this amazing collection in both digital and print. To celebrate, we are making the ebook version available for just 99p/99c throughout October.
Blurb:
Charles Baudelaire, Rasputin, Anna Karenina, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet and Ophelia, Fyodor Dostoevsky, George Sand, Frederic Chopin, Vincent Van Gogh, Antonin Artaud, Maria Izquierdo, James Joyce, Federico Garcia Lorka, Salvador Dali.
Can Rasputin find redemption through the sins of others? What awaits Anna Karenina on the other side? Does passion still flow through the veins of the lovers from Verona? Can Hamlet and Ophelia escape their fate? Is Van Gogh’s loneliness a blessing or a curse? And can Dali dispel Lorca’s fear.
Eli Gilić deftly weaves fact and fiction to bring some of the world’s great writers, literary characters, artists and composers to life as they reach the heights of passion and the depths of despair in this mesmerising erotic short story collection.
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Excerpt from ‘Lovers in the Land of Peyote’ (María Izquierdo and Antonin Artaud), Slaves to Desire:
They brought him half-dead on a donkey, took him to his room, laid his feverish body on the bed and left me alone with him. I was terror-stricken as I listened to his frantic screams and incoherent ravings about virgins and donkeys. I wiped his burning forehead for hours and tried to reach him. He writhed, flailed his arms and legs, and I had to avoid blows carefully.
My strength was dissolving when Antonin suddenly stilled. I feared the worst, but he opened his eyes. Delirium had passed. His eyes were bright and curious. Such relief overcame me that I kissed him without thinking. I poured all the love that was burning in my heart into that kiss. I realised what I had done only when he returned my kiss. But there was no reason for anxiety because Antonin was overcome by desire just like me. He kissed me feverishly, as if to compensate for all the months of restraint. A surge of happiness flooded me. I quickly took off my robe and pulled Antonin’s pants down his legs.
Antonin just looked at me with mild disbelief. Fearing that he would pull away and say that we shouldn’t, I quickly settled above him before he had a chance to object. I had to feel him at least once. I think my heart would have broken if I didn’t manoeuvre him into me.
I looked him in the eye as I slowly descended on his hard manhood, choking from inexplicable joy. It seemed like I was becoming whole because he was filling me. I lacked something essential before Antonin entered my life just as my body had missed something vital before I felt him inside me. When I came down completely, I stilled to interpret his look. But I saw nothing except great love and total abandonment. As if to encourage me, Antonin grabbed me by the hips and began lifting and lowering me. I started moving and together we found the rhythm of lovers. Our bodies moved as if of their own will, as if saying something to each other with those feverish movements. Movements as old as the world, yet completely new, full of mysterious meaning known only to us. Faster, feverishly, marvellously coordinated as if our bodies had already done that in another world and time and we were only repeating what was carved in our hearts and bodies.
Antonin was moaning uncontrollably while rapidly raising his pelvis to meet my frenzied descents. Strangled sounds were escaping my throat, my insides were tightening from pleasure. The pressure was becoming unbearable, almost agonising. And then a miraculous burst, spasms that brought immense delight. The relief was so strong that I collapsed on him. Antonin hugged me tightly and jerked a few more times before freezing and crying out.
I sat up and showered his face with kisses, crying and laughing at the same time, mad from the rush of giddy joy.
Author Bio:
Eli Gilić is a writer and translator from Serbia who has spent much of her career translating best-selling novels for the Serbian market. She has also penned an erotic cookbook called Eat, Tease and Please.
Eli lives near a forest in Serbia with her three four-legged friends, and she spends her free time growing organic food, climbing mountains and jumping from waterfalls.
Slaves to Desire is her first short story collection, and it was originally published by Laguna, the biggest publisher in Serbia, before being translated into English for Sinful Press.
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So that’s my evaluation of 
Generally, I love doing research for books. Since I write contemporary romance (mostly), I usually only have to research towns where my characters live, street names and store locations and such, if I’m trying to keep it real. But I have written few historical romances, too, and for those, research becomes a little harder. And more interesting in a lot of ways.
wanted my heroine to live. I love maps and they are one of the things I research for most books.
points. I still was easily distracted but not to where three clicks on a screen can take me to different universes, not just a small digression. Still, what did we do before the Internet?? I wouldn’t go back…
I like epilogues. I write a lot of epilogues, too, probably because I like to read them. To me, they finish the book. It’s all well and good to have Heroine A say how much she loves Hero A and vice versa, but I like to see that Heroine A actually ends up with Hero A and not accidentally with Hero B. Did they marry? Have a passel of kids? Move to Timbuktu? Inquiring minds want to know. And that’s what an epilogue does for me.
back where two endings were written and which happened was up to the viewer. Or the kind who want to envision their own version of the castle Cinderella and Prince Charming lived in—was it a condo on the beach at Malibu or more like the Biltmore House in North Carolina? When it comes to ending a romance, I prefer to know. I do enough imagining about stuff, like what I’m making for dinner—actual food or reservations. I don’t need to wonder about Cinderella’s living conditions. Give me a good epilogue any time!
Personally, I think it’s worth entering writing contests. I am a Contest Queen. Or least a Princess. Or…okay, a Duchess. But I do like contests. I don’t enter a huge number of them because the cost can run up. But I did enter the 
