There’s an old church built of stone; they don’t build structures like that anymore. I have an image in my mind of grey age. Yes, I am correct; the writer, Christina Harding tells me that the church has been standing for centuries. Something else they don’t do anymore is put Gargoyles on the roofs of churches; and there are gargoyles here, on this building, another testament to age. Yes, the gargoyles too have been perched here for centuries, watching and waiting. It’s spooky, for whom are the gargoyles watching and waiting? A tremor tickles up my spine…
Trisha, our protagonist, walks to the entrance of the church. The gargoyles watch her. Trisha challenges them with a stony glance; she has no fear of their menacing gaze. And this first chapter of Christina Harding’s erotic novel, “Underneath the Gargoyles,” is defined by watching, looking; voyeurism drives the narrative.
It is choir practice in the church. Trisha is asked by Father Cohen, the choir master, to sing a solo. Trisha watches her boyfriend, Kyle as she sings; she watches Kyle watching her. The novel is in the first person and the reader is privy to Trisha’s rapacious, lascivious thoughts; Kyle naked. Kyle’s swaying, proud erection; she replays the ripping thrust of Kyle’s erection penetrating her. And Kyle watches Trisha watching him. Trisha also watches Kyle’s dad; Father Cohen. She notes his strong forearms and wonders how long it has been since he has been with a woman. She also wonders about his body beneath his priest’s robes; her eyes undress him. As Trisha sings her lovely lament, she watches Father Cohen’s eyes fixing on her, watching the rise and fall of her ample breasts.
And if fetishistic voyeurism drives the narrative, fetishistic exhibitionism is hot on its tail. As Trisha sings, she knows that she is turning on the two men, father and son and that thought alone is enough to provoke an arousal which cannot be ignored.
Trisha’s friend, Olivia watches all three.
Father and son; Trisha has had one. She wants both.
Christina Harding’s protagonist is defined by her outrageous promiscuity.
Trisha’s fingers stray to her clitoris and she masturbates; she needs to have sex soon, very, very soon. Remember, this is all taking place in a church. The air is heavy, scented, saturated, not with the odour of holy incense, but with the stink of sexual tension and Trisha’s giddy pheromones. Olivia watches her friend’s erotic display. And the Gargoyles watch too. And the fetishistic ending to this story will blow you away, really it will; it blew me away.
I cannot believe that this is Christina’s first venture into erotica, but it is. She has learnt and honed her craft well. Christina knows exactly how to titillate her reader, how to seduce; she writes carefully, with her aroused reader always in mind. She knows how to keep her reader reading. Trisha’s sexual antics are raw and lusty. I’m getting a vicarious thrill from Trisha’s predatory demands for sex; she wants it now and she wants it a lot. Christina has indeed created a monster; but Trisha is a monster who delights the reader. She’s sacrilegious; relishing in the profanity of having sex in the graveyard and she has made me laugh out loud at her refreshingly, guilt free, outrageous behaviour; read this book and you will be shocked and delighted at Trisha’s healthy yearning for sex. No hang ups for this lady; she’s refreshing. A strong young woman who turns sexual gratification into an art form.
Christina has created a book of Erotica that will delight the lover of the genre. She writes with a style and panache that other writers of the genre will envy. Christina Harding is a bold, provocative, creative writer; absolutely and most definitely, more, more, more from her…please.
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