Whet or Wet Your Whistle

Last week I was talking about posting little clips of my new book to wet everyone’s whistle and wondered about the origins of that phrase. Of course, I did a little research on that for this blog. Apparently, whet your whistle and wet your whistle have two different origins. Who knew? Here’s what I discovered.


Whet is a derivative of whetting originally attributed to the sharpening of tools on a whetstone. So, to whet someone’s appetite literally meant sharpening their appetite. Hmmm… can that tie into my intended use of the phrase by sharpening people’s interest in my books? Maybe.


The other phrase wet your whistle predates whet your appetite. In the early days whistle meant throat or voice and wet your whistle meant taking a drink (usually of the alcoholic variety). So…could this also apply to books? Sure, why not? Take a long, cool, drink of my book and satisfy your thirst. How’s that for a wonderful analogy?


Honestly, I do believe either of these phrases could apply. What we are really talking about is enticing someone to eat, drink and be merry. For me, books are entertainment. Probably a more value-added form of entertainment than going out for a drink or nice meal. Don’t tell my wife this, but I would much rather spend my money on books than a nice dinner. And…for the record, I love good food. I might even be considered a foodie. Yet, I still prefer a good book on a Friday night.


So…for those of you love to be entertained…let me just whet or wet your appetite/whistle one more time…Here’s a little steamy clip for you. (I could not resist including this picture of an actual boob whistle).


Mandie nudged the expensive black material forward, carefully removing the dress. She caressed each shoulder, until the gown lay in a pool at Gail’s feet. Gail marveled at how sexy she felt in a matching pair of lace undies and bra. Black, of course, to match the dress.  Mandie took a few seconds and stared. Gail felt adored. She couldn’t get over the feeling that Mandie looked at her as if she were a newly discovered treasure that only she had the tools to uncover.

Mandie took painstaking care, as she removed Gail’s undergarments. In the same excruciatingly unhurried manner as with the dress, a feathery caress removed her bra, then her thong. Mandie’s own dress still hung open in the back.

“Will you do me a favor?” Gail asked.

Mandie cocked her head. “What?”

“When you take my picture, will you do it nude?”

“Okay.” Mandie slipped off her dress. Wearing only her underwear and stilettos, she reached for the bra’s clasp.

“Wait. I have an addendum. That’s an architectural term for a change or correction in a plan. You look scrumptious right now. Stay like that.” Gail kicked off her shoes, sending them flying to the right of the bed. “So, where would you like me?”

“Get on the bed, and I’ll position you,” Mandie ordered.

Gail pulled the covers down and eased onto the bed. A sudden burst of cool air surged into the small space and flowed over Gail’s body, eliciting an immediate reaction. Her nipples erupted into two tiny points. Pulling the sheet partially over her body, she sought a small measure of warmth, but soon found the air around her had lost that temporary chill.

Gail was too distracted by Mandie’s enraptured blue eyes and the sound of the first click of the shutter to consider why TM allowed a camera into Intermediate. She felt her lips form the hint of a smile accompanied by something intangible. Mandie took that moment to capture her expression.

Mandie gently removed the covers. She arranged Gail in an asymmetrical pose. One arm was stretched upward toward the headboard, while her other arm and hand were provocatively resting on her thigh. Gail’s finger hovered mere inches from her triangle of curly, brown hair. Mandie tucked one leg under the other.

“Can you turn so you’re barely on your side?” Mandie stepped back. Her scrutiny reminded Gail of an artist surveying her masterpiece. Mandie raised the camera to her eye. Gail heard the rapid clicking sound, and her own level of excitement ratcheted to the engineered sky. She marveled at the view revealing thousands of tiny points of light.

Gail had the best of both worlds. She could sleep outside in the open air, face to the stars, and didn’t have to bother with the elements or flying insects that would disturb her peace and quiet. Even though Mandie was definitely in the driver’s seat, Gail wondered if she had unconsciously added this small detail to the evening’s ambiance.

“Move your hand between your thighs and part your lips for me, but keep the other arm stretched upward. I promise I won’t take a close up, but oh my God, that is so…I don’t even have the words. Glorious, sexy perfection. Can you stroke yourself?”

“I can, but I prefer your fingers or tongue.”


If the above clip does not get you to stop what you are doing and click the link below to buy this book, I give up!  LOL.  Seriously, I hope you will take a chance. This was a super fun book to write and I don’t think you’ll be disappointed!  You know the drill, simply click the links below!

Window (1)

A Window to Love on Amazon US

A Window to Love on Amazon UK

A Window to Love on Amazon Australia

A Window to Love through Affinity Rainbow Publications



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