Beneath The Ice - Giselle Renarde

The sea monster Kaloopalooit lives in the cracks of the ocean ice, devouring the children of the Arctic.

When Enooya bets her husband she's a better fisher than he, she sets off unperturbed to the fissures in the sea ice. After all, the Kaloopalooit is just an imaginary monster the elders created to scare kids. Soon enough, Enooya discovers just how real the Kaloopalooit is, when it pursues her, dragging her down into the icy waters. The sea monster is beautiful and horrible, shimmering and bizarre. In exchange for breath, it demands that Enooya secure children for its dinner. Enooya has a better idea: Why not sample the delicacy called woman?

Beneath the Ice is an erotic adaptation of an Inuit folktale.

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Excerpt:

Out from the giant hole in the ice burst a creature more dreadful and more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen. The glistening scales of its skin shone so brilliantly Enooya had to shield her eyes from their magnificence. Like fields of diamonds, its skin glittered in every shade of ocean colour. It was blue as the blue whale, green as algae, turquoise as the southern coasts, and as silver as the Arctic char.

Before Enooya could make out anything beyond the dazzling colour of its flesh, a tail slick as a water snake, but ten times the width, coiled around her ankles. Her knees knocked together with a bony bang, sending streams of lightning-pain shooting across her legs. The coil tightened, slithering in circles up her thighs, around the corpulence of her ass, slippery and smooth around her waist. The instinct to flee was instantly zapped from her body. She fell limp under the creature’s stranglehold. Her eyelids rolled shut. Her head fell to one side, too heavy to hold upright.

The monstrous thing tugged so hard on her lower half that Enooya fell with a thud on her back. Shoulder blades smacked roughly against the sea ice, making her ribs rattle in her core. Skull met ocean ice. Too dazed to react, Enooya didn’t even think to struggle against the evil troll dragging her, feet first, into the freezing cold ocean. She was incapable of fighting this creature. Though her body was tugged toward the fissure in the ice, there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. It had her in its power.

There was a feeling of falling, and then everything changed. The cold transformed into warmth, the harsh weather now balmy. She floated, infant-like, in the peace and gentle comfort of a mother’s womb. It wasn’t until Enooya was many leagues beneath the sea that she realized they were in the water. The sense of utter tranquillity wrapped her in a warm embrace, soothing her worried mind and frigid body.

Down, the monster pulled her, until the sun faded into a speck of light in the darkness. Down, until seaweed caressed her cheeks. Down, until bottom-feeders scattered. Down, until her boots sank into the sandy floor and mud rose like a dust cloud all around. The comfort of the warm water lulled Enooya until she felt safe and protected in the tight embrace of the sea creature.

 It wasn’t until her breath expired that she realized the trouble she was in. Desperate for oxygen, Enooya tried to breath in, but the sharp sting of saltwater sliced through her nostrils and the tender flesh lining her throat. She tried to cough out that horrible burning sensation attacking her head, but there was no air left in her lungs. Panic set in, sending her arms flailing. Enooya struggled against the heavy ocean, but the monster’s grip only tightened around her waist, its tail slithering up toward her breasts.

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Author Bio:
Eroticist, environmentalist and pastry enthusiast Giselle Renarde is a proud Canadian and ardent lover of the Great White North. Her short stories have been included in numerous anthologies, including Love Bites (Torquere Press), Tasting Her (Cleis Press), and Ultimate Lesbian Erotica 2009 (Alyson Books). For Giselle, a perfect day involves watching a snowstorm rage outside with a cup of tea in one hand and a chocolate truffle in the other. Ms Renarde lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head.

For more information on Giselle Renarde and her work, visit her website at www.freewebs.com/gisellerenarde or her blog, Donuts & Desires, www.donutsdesires.blogspot.com