Extreme Liking

For some unknown reason, I have developed a strong weakness for the Aryan type. This is quite new : except for my very first lover, blonde men with blue eyes never existed for me. My penchant was for the dark princes, whose pale complexions and exquisite melancholy exercised an irresistible, and catastrophic, pull on my heart. Perhaps the lineup of failures wised me up, redirecting my desire like a sunflower towards the light: in the last few years I have been caught by those strong arms, firm frames and square jaws as suddenly and surely as a brush fire. It happens in a split second, a burning attraction that takes my appetite away and leaves me pouring honey from every pore. The viking gods’ shining promise has yet to be fulfilled. Will we find together the hidden gold?