Bringing Sexy Back - BL Morticia

Hey dudes and dudettes. So what is sexy on a man? Yes his eyes, abs, his rear, the v-line and the dick. Yep that’s all sexy but Remmy wants to know what's sexy that isn’t related to the body. Well, since I’m a rock chick I have to say a man with an instrument. Whew, yes lawd! A man with a guitar really gets my blood flowin. It’s something about the frets or fingerboard, the body, on the guitar that is. *giggles*

Love the guitar and all its parts and a man playing it is super hot. The guitar or bass is attached with a strap that goes over his shoulder and lands right across his midsection. He plays the instrument with his fingers, gliding them over the frets and using the pegs at the top to tune it. Even sexier is a man who can do tricks like play with his eyes closed, throw it up and catch, or dance while not missing a note. Yep, I’m a big fan of guitarists and bassists since the axe is my fave instrument.  

What about the drums? I know I love a good drum solo. I’ve often said a man that’s good with his hands must be a masterful lover. *grins* So I’m thinking, a man who knows how to play the drums well must know how to keep the rhythm in bed, or at least I think so. I haven't given this philosophy a try just yet, I might need to investigate a little further.   The last instrument I want to comment on is the violin. Oh, I know its more of a classical instrument… ahem…until we discovered David Garrett.   Yep, the blond, blue eyed violinist who plays a variety of songs on his Stratovarius violin that he claims was made in the 1700’s and worth over five or six million dollars. See interview here

Not only is he talented but he’s gorgeous. Oh I’m not supposed to talk about that. OOPS! We’re still talking about his instrument. *waggles eyebrows* The violin is very sexy and the way he plays is a turn on. If you don’t know him, look him up! Shar decided to go see him at the Chicago Theatre in March. The man is sex on wheels, I tell ya. BTW, Michael the muse is in love with him. Look for David to be the muse in Michael's stories some time soon. Ahem So what’s sexy about men and or women with instruments? The music they make, the way they get lost in their music and enjoying the sound coming out of it. Creativity and talent is VERY sexy.

 * * * There are other authors/bloggers participating in the Bringing Sexy Back click here for the link And now for my contest. Give me a sexy musician past or present and It enters you in a giveaway for my latest and next rock and roll books. Here's the main one, my raunchiest

yet, Sex Type Thing  

Blurb: I don't like to play by the rules and I don't take no for an answer! I'm JKaye, a fan, no make that super fan, of Lucifiera's lead singer Zander Lukes. I've wanted this man more than breathing but here's the problem; he doesn't know I exist and they're watching him like a hawk. It’s a mission I must undertake to fulfill my dream. Regardless of the situation I plan to kidnap the biggest heavy metal singer in the world and make him my bitch for a weekend. WARNING: Strong male/male sexual situations many might find highly objectionable.

Amazon ARe    

Excerpt “Somethin ‘bout the devil’s kiss, on my lips−”

With the crowd of screaming fans at my feet, I growled the lyrics to one of the band's hits. Cameras flashed at my every move with photographers following me from one end of the stage to the other trying to catch what lewd thing I might do next. As the interest in me picked up, more mainstream rags and papers wanted to cover the band. No question, I took pleasure in the attention given. I actually reveled in it. Like most front men, I enjoy the spotlight. And why wouldn’t I? This was what I signed up for the moment we made our music available to the masses.

“Zander! I wanna have your baby!” A busty girl screamed at me and showed her best assets. In response, I ran my tongue over my lips and flashed an evil smile.

 I loved when people got naked for me but in all honesty tits weren’t on my mind for this night. I needed something of the male variety to satisfy my hunger for companionship. Many tried to get me to notice them with all their wild stunts, jumping on stage, diving, crowd surfing to slap my hand which I always acknowledged. Yeah I may be a devil but I love my fans. They’re the reason I got to where I wanted to be in this business. Without them, I’d be the starving artist, still trying to make ends meet. Live shows allowed us to dwell comfortably in an expensive place like New York. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have made it any other way.

After I stalked to the left side of the stage, I stopped to whip my hair around in unison with our guitarist. Although I was tired as hell, adrenaline fueled me to continue to entertain my crowd. High pitched guitar riffs and clashing cymbals caused my ears to throb. In my mind, to feel the music I couldn’t be bothered with fucking ear plugs. I had to hear it all regardless of the temporary deafness I’d suffer from later.

As the song finished, I leaped up in the air and landed on the stage, spreading my arms and legs wide. Fans rushed to my side, touching every part of my body, ripping my t-shirt to shreds. Their wild adoration of me, a way for them to have a figurative piece of me. Surely some of these same fans would be waiting backstage hoping to be my “entertainment” this evening, but I had no hope of any of them tickling my fancy. Still, it beat being alone after the performance, especially when my sexual energy was at its peak. I had to release the tension somehow and having or, rather, getting sexed up was the best way to do it.

“Zander, Zander, Zander!”

Chants from the crowd sounded as the rest of the band took their bows and left the stage. I jumped to my feet, flung the remnants of my Cradle of Filth t-shirt into the frenzied crowd. Feeling the aftermath of getting clawed, I winced and grit my teeth in pain, walking from one end to the other. I’d need plenty of peroxide to recover from these small injuries but it never deterred me from letting the fans get at me after a show. After taking my final bow, I spun and ambled backstage. I grabbed the solution and doused my chest, belly, and shoulders with it while one of my roadies rambled off a bunch of potentials. The cold liquid chilled and stung me all at once. I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes, attempting to forget the discomfort. Soon however, I’d be high on weed and booze to make all this a memory at least for right now. I’d definitely feel it in the morning but that’s what pain killers and showers were for. Good thing the next performance wasn’t until next week to conclude this tour. Recovering was always the hardest part of this gig anyway.