Dark Alice

Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. Blood musk and ashes. This is unusual. It is a very subtle blood musk. But not a lot of ash. More like warmth, burning paper before it completely snuffs out. Ash smells smoky, this doesn't. It's so subtle and beautiful. Letting it settle helped a bit. So now I am going to keep this bottle. I have a feeling that this will just get better with time!

There was a girl. He had met her somewhere, and now they were walking across a bridge. It spanned a small lake, in the middle of a town. The wind was ruffling the surface of the lake, making waves tipped with whitecaps, which seemed to Shadow to be tiny hands reaching for him. - Down there, said the woman. She was wearing a leopard-print skirt, which flapped and tossed in the wind, and the flesh between the top of her stockings and her skirt was creamy and soft and in his dream, on the bridge, before God and the world, Shadow went down to his knees in front of her, burying his head in her crotch, drinking in the intoxicating jungle female scent of her. He became aware, in his dream, of his erection in real life, a rigid, pounding, monstrous thing as painful in its hardness as the erections he'd had as a boy, when he was crashing into puberty. He pulled away and looked upward, and still he could not see her face. But his mouth was seeking hers and her lips were soft against his, and his hands were cupping her breasts, and then they were running across the satin smoothness of her skin, pushing into and parting the furs that hid her waist, sliding into the wonderful cleft of her, which warmed and wetted and parted for him, opening to his hand like a flower. The woman purred against him ecstatically, her hand moving down to the hardness of him and squeezing it. He pushed the bedsheets away and rolled on top of her, his hand parting her thighs, her hand guiding him between her legs, where one thrust, one magical push . . . Now he was back in his old prison cell with her, and he was kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, clamped her legs about his legs to hold him tight, so he could not pull out, not even if he wanted to. Never had he kissed lips so soft. He had not known that there were lips so soft in the whole world. Her tongue, though, was sandpaper-rough as it slipped against his. -Who are you? he asked. She made no answer, just pushed him onto his back and, in one lithe movement, straddled him and began to ride him. No, not to ride him: to insinuate herself against him in series of silken-smooth waves, each more powerful than the one before, strokes and beats and rhythms that crashed against his mind and his body just as the wind-waves on the lake splashed against the shore. Her nails were needle-sharp and they pierced his sides, raking them, but he felt no pain, only pleasure, everything was transmuted by some alchemy into moments of utter pleasure. He struggled to find himself, struggled to talk, his head now filled with sand dunes and desert winds. -Who are you? he asked again, gasping for the words. She stared at him with eyes the color of dark amber, then lowered her mouth to his and kissed him with a passion, kissed him so completely and so deeply that there, on the bridge over the lake, in his prison cell, in the bed in the Cairo funeral home, he almost came. He rode the sensation like a kite riding a hurricane, willing it not to crest, not to explode, wanting it never to end. A desert wind alight with myrrh and golden amber, cardamom and honey, bourbon vanilla and cacao. Wet: Cardamom blended with honey. Dry: hints of honey with gentle billows of cardamom. I am waiting for this to settle more so that the cacao comes out more. But so far, it's my first honey scent that I can wear with out it going stinky on me. In short, I love.

GNOME An explosive blend of effervescent golden ginger and black peppercorn with sarsaparilla, gurjum balsam, nutmeg, gear lubricant, and smoke. Hot damn! A ginger I can wear!!!!! This smells like a sweet spicy ginger ale with smoke and black peppercorn! I think the sarsaparilla gives it the fizzy kick. I just love it. From wet to drydown...that's all I get. This is pretty good....and also a right day kind of scent....meaning if I wear this on the wrong day...it will make me sick. A little bit goes a long way! I am going to have to get a bottle in the next order. I can't wait to play with this one and mix with the other RPG scents!

Shavings of white pumpkin rind and honey powder. I tried this at NYCC and I will never forget it. Sweet pumpkin with a sprinkle of honey dust on it. True to form.

THE UNSTEADY GOVERNESS It made me, the sound of the words, in which it seemed to me that I caught for the very first time a small faint quaver of consenting consciousness—it made me drop on my knees beside the bed and seize once more the chance of possessing him. "Dear little Miles, dear little Miles, if you KNEW how I want to help you! It's only that, it's nothing but that, and I'd rather die than give you a pain or do you a wrong—I'd rather die than hurt a hair of you. Dear little Miles"—oh, I brought it out now even if I SHOULD go too far—"I just want you to help me to save you!" But I knew in a moment after this that I had gone too far. The answer to my appeal was instantaneous, but it came in the form of an extraordinary blast and chill, a gust of frozen air, and a shake of the room as great as if, in the wild wind, the casement had crashed in. The boy gave a loud, high shriek, which, lost in the rest of the shock of sound, might have seemed, indistinctly, though I was so close to him, a note either of jubilation or of terror. I jumped to my feet again and was conscious of darkness. So for a moment we remained, while I stared about me and saw that the drawn curtains were unstirred and the window tight. "Why, the candle's out!" I then cried. "It was I who blew it, dear!" said Miles. —The Turn of the Screw, Henry James White tea and violet leaf. I have always said that some of Beth's best creations come with the simplest notes. I was right then...and I am right now! This is just gorgeous! White tea with hints of fresh almost juicy violet. The smells like fresh wet white tea with violet. I just love it. I want to drink this blend and wear it all at the same time. It's just amazing. Beth has outdone herself once again!

Wet: paper, ink, with a smoky note! Drydown: gorgeous brown leather with paper, a touch of ink and smoke! This is love...true love!

HALF-ELF White sandalwood, beeswax, white tea leaf, oud, and a hint of sophisticated urban musk. Wet: Bitter...woodsy...and leaves. Drydown: Soft leather, woods...and a hint of leaves. I think it's the musk and beeswax that is giving this a leafy feel. I am going half elf with good and see what happens. With good this was a no go. The beeswax just stomped all of the Half-elf goodness out. BUT...with evil. Seductive naughty sex in the woods on a bed of leaves with a half-elf dressed in soft gorgeous leather.

Black terebinth, tamil nadu sandalwood, frankincense, black chestnut, and myrrh. Wet: Smooth myrrh, frankincense and chestnuts. Dry: Something unbelievably pleasant and gorgeous. The pine peeks out for just a minute and then it is fades beautifully with the rest of the notes. I love it!

Accords of castoreum, ambergris, and civet! Leathers and musks ahoy! Animalic 1: HOT DAMN! It is the brown leather from Hunter with musk. I adore this!!! Animalic 2: Civet and something clean with musk. Not sure on this one yet. But it is interesting. I love Chaos Theories!!!!

THE WILD SWANS AT COOLE The trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine-and-fifty swans. The nineteenth autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings. I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All's changed since I, hearing at twilight, The first time on this shore, The bell-beat of their wings above my head, Trod with a lighter tread. Unwearied still, lover by lover, They paddle in the cold Companionable streams or climb the air; Their hearts have not grown old; Passion or conquest, wander where they will, Attend upon them still. But now they drift on the still water, Mysterious, beautiful; Among what rushes will they build, By what lake's edge or pool Delight men's eyes when I awake some day To find they have flown away? October twilight. Falling leaves breaking the stillness of cool water, with sweet autumn clematis, feather-soft orris root, luminous white chypre, and muguet. Sweet cool water. Then melon? And then the florals come! Argh! I know what this smells like. Bath and Body Works cool cucumber without the nasty chemical cucumber note. I don't know if this will be staying....I am going to give it a couple of days to settle and test it again!

Polished mahogany blanketed by myrrh. This is smooth mahogany with silky myrrh. So good. So glad I bought this from the lab. It's just lovely. This will age well.

Not what I was expecting. I was expecting a red wine with red cherry notes. It just smells like cherry and then cheap red wine. i am going to let this age a bit more.

Pumpkin spice them carnies! This is warm, pumpkin spice, with a hint of cardamom, nutmeg and cinnamon with SNAKE OIL!!! This is a double bottle for sure and I believe it will age beautifully!

Frankincense, myrrh, leather, ti leaf, saint wood, benzoin, and labdanum absolute. If you love frankincense and myrrh GO GET THIS!!!!! Wet: Light frankincense and myrrh with the barest hints of leather. Drydown:The frankincense and myrrh blend beautifully to make a wonderful kickass leathery badass scent. I love it!

Dark myrrh, teakwood, olive blossom, a scattering of crushed asphodel petals, and a drop of green cognac. This is such a clean, woody scent. The olive blossom, asphodel, and cognac are the front winners while it's wet. As it dries, the teak wood starts to peek out to say hello, but only subtly. This would smell amazing on my husband. Such a lovely, subtle manly scent.

I love this one! I only need one bottle on me b/c it can be very heavy in warmer temperatures. This will get a lot of love this winter.

Hard to find, but Ignanok Jewelers. Legit, English cobble stone fence smell.

Benevolent groundskeepers, these carefree plaster and stone companions lighten the hearts of passers by. Red currant, molasses, vanilla cream, moss, and patchouli I just got this in the mailbox and I couldn't wait to try it. For once giving into my temptation was worth it.....This is the most delicious perfume. Wet: Vanilla Cream and Molasses Drydown: The vanilla, molasses, and red currant swirl together to make this smell of vanilla creme, red currant and molasses. Complete Drydown: the molasses and red currant become a little bitter in the complete dry down. I love it because it keeps the vanilla creme from being too sweet. 2 hours later and now all I get is whiffs of red currant and vanilla cream. I this!

Tweed and crisp linen, lime-tinged aftershave, the sleek steel and oil of a well-cared for service revolver, and a memory's echo of a Jezail bullet shell. Watson is a smooth operator. The lime, after shave oil, and linen blend into a sweet yet subtle perfume. I love it. It can be a little powdery at first on my skin...(my skin amps powder) but don't be afraid. This mature, critical thinker, is definitely a delicious man to be reckoned with. I am sure...that layered with Sherlock...this will be the perfect scent.

This sums it up. Why did i not get two bottles so I could slather away! This a fantastic, dark cherry purring scent and I love it.

This is the epitome of glory. Dark black musk mixes with dark cherries and a hint of currant and amber on my skin. I wish I had bought two of these!! Legit, it's dark and gorgeous and delicious. I love black cherries and with the musk and amber..it's amazing!

This smells like a fancy black cherry soda with hints of champaca. I love it!

This scent evokes an image and it's really good. I see a petite brown sphynx running around the tomb getting into spices, wraps, and dust chasing spiders while hanging out with annoyed servants who have to tolerate, love, and worship them regardless. Smells like home that I have never been too and I love it.

Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day I paused and said, I will turn back from here. No, I will go on fartherand we shall see. The hard snow held me, save where now and then One foot went down. The view was all in lines Straight up and down of tall slim trees Too much alike to mark or name a place by So as to say for certain I was here Or somewhere else: I was just far from home. A small bird flew before me. He was careful To put a tree between us when he lighted, And say no word to tell me who he was Who was so foolish as to think what he thought. He thought that I was after him for a feather The white one in his tail; like one who takes Everything said as personal to himself. One flight out sideways would have undeceived him. And then there was a pile of wood for which I forgot him and let his little fear Carry him off the way I might have gone, Without so much as wishing him good-night. He went behind it to make his last stand. It was a cord of maple, cut and split And piledand measured, four by four by eight. And not another like it could I see. No runner tracks in this years snow looped near it. And it was older sure than this years cutting, Or even last years or the years before. The wood was grey and the bark warping off it And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle. What held it though on one side was a tree Still growing, and on one a stake and prop, These latter about to fall. I thought that only Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks Could so forget his handiwork on which He spent himself, the labour of his axe, And leave it there far from a useful fireplace To warm the frozen swamp as best it could With the slow smokeless burning of decay. - Robert Frost Bald cypress and Spanish moss, spatterdock and sundew. This is a beautiful woody, aquatic. It's a touch too strong for me. But on the right man it would be amazing!

Frog moon 2021. Beautiful rain and green bog notes.