Roz Lee: Sharon Buchbinder

Monday, June 11, 2012

Sharon Buchbinder - Guest Blog

I'm so excited to have Sharon Buchbinder here today! She's just released a wonderful anthology that has something for everyone. From short stories to novellas, from sweet to paranormal and erotic, it's an exciting sampler of Sharon's awesome writing talent.

Today, she has a great blog for you, full of history and mythology, and even a bit of Hollywood.

Nobody weaves all that together better than Sharon Buchbinder.

Galatea, Pygmalion, Pigmalion: A Rose by Any Other Name

Like many authors, my inspiration for my short story, PIGMALION, in my new anthology, KILLER KISSES, came from an old myth. The Greeks and Romans worshiped Aphrodite and Venus, respectively. In one of the versions of the myth of Galatea, a sculptor whose heart has been broken and hardened by a bad break-up, decides to sculpt the perfect woman from marble. Possessed by some unknown power, he works day and night. As he works, the marble feels warmer to his touch and what emerges from the block of stone is a woman so beautiful, she takes his breath away. He falls in love with his statue and falls asleep at its life-size feet. He awakes to a living woman who steps down from the pedestal into his welcoming arms.
Centuries later, George Bernard Shaw, revisited this myth and updated the story with linguistics Professor Henry Higgins and his flower-seller student, Eliza Doolittle. His charming and tongue-in-cheek tale is available in full text for all to read at Pygmalion. The years have not dimmed his humor. Shaw's use of the new technology of languages and all the gadgets and scholarship available at that time are put to good use to move the story forward, all contingent, of course, on a bet. If you are old enough to remember bell-bottoms, then you know this story later became the hit 1964 musical film, My Fair Lady, starring Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison.
Fast forward to current times and you have my version of the myth retold in PIGMALION. In my story, the professor has become a female speech-language pathology graduate student, Levisa Harris, and the language-challenged student has become an accounting student from Pigtown, Baltimore, an area well-known for its heavily accented dialect.
Whether it is Galatea, Pygmalion or Pigmalion, in this rose by any other name, all of the stories focus on the transformative power of love. Isn't that what we all want?

Here's a little excerpt to tease you into reading more from PIGMALION and the rest of my anthology, KILLER KISSES.

She rubbed against him, and her legs felt weak. She whispered, “I’ve been struggling to keep my hands off you for four months.”
“We’ve waited this long, this is going to be special—for both of us.” He nibbled at her shoulder, and began kissing his way down to the base of her neck. “Time to take this off.” Her turtleneck sweater slid up over her long curls, exposing her black camisole. “Next.” He peeled the spaghetti straps down, removed the silk lingerie, then her bra. His lips hovered over her breasts, his breath warming her, thrilling her nipples.
Levisa moaned and shuddered with anticipation. She cupped her hands under her breasts, offering them up to him with abandon. She had never been this free with a man before. She’d always felt like an observer, not really involved, when she’d made love. But this time, this man, this aching need was different.
Oh my God, I’m so in love with him!
In a nearly hypnotic state, she watched him lightly lick her left nipple and then take it into his mouth, sucking and pulling. She groaned and grabbed his firm butt, pressing hard against the outline of his erection.
“Now?”
"Not yet.” He took her nipple between his teeth, tugging lightly. Levisa gasped as his hands slid up her skirt, between her legs, and stroked her thigh a torturous inch below her silk thong. She pulled at his waistband and unzipped his pants, barely recognizing her own voice thick with lust, “My turn to drive you wild.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Get over here,” she ordered. Slowly, intent on teasing him, she eased his jeans down. As he stepped out of the pant legs, she tiptoed her fingers down his back, beneath the waistband of his underwear, and grabbed his butt. “Did I tell you, you have a perfect ass?”
A look of surprise flickered across Sam’s handsome face; then in a in a flash, still watching his expression, she yanked his briefs down to his ankles. His beautiful penis stood at attention, long and hard, waiting to be of service.
“Oh my,” she whispered in awe. “I admire a man who’s happy to see me."