Wyndi

A gift from my adored Nechtan and one that I think I must acquire an actual bottle from. First sniff gives the impression of a slightly fruity wine kept in a cool, dark basement. Application is much the same but the scent grows stronger, fuller, and the vanilla peeks its head out to say 'hello.' Sadly, it fades really quickly. However, the various layers of this scent stay deep and true. The darker fruit element comes to the foreground and it's so rich you can just about taste it. This is one gorgeous scent. There's an unidentified floral note (again with the florals!) dancing around the edges but it's very much a backstage player and never comes even remotely close to upstaging the primary elements. The vanilla keeps popping in and out, weaving itself among the darker notes. This is so blissfully rich and decadent and sophisticated and complex. It's all the things I associate with a deeply tortured soul, scribbling his jumbled thoughts in a crudely bound journal in a room made hazy with opium smoke. Gorgeousness and gorgeosity and like its addictive muse, I must have more.

Jeez, what is it with me and florals? This is another one that's super light and calming. What’s alarming is that my body isn't distorting it, like it does most florals. I don't know precisely WHAT notes are in this but I'm reminded of wisteria, gardenia, and maybe even a trace of honeysuckle. If this is what Hell smells like, I can't say as I'd mind overmuch. It honestly smells like someone went out into a dewy garden, cut a selection of flowers, and brought them inside. But this isn't just any old 'inside.' It's an elegant parlour furnished with antique cherrywood furniture. The heavy drapes are thrown wide to admit the morning sun and give the fluffy white housecat a place to bask and suncharge for a day’s work stalking birds and rodents. Several ladies are lounging on the overstuffed sofas in their day dresses discussing their respective gentleman callers, struggling all the while to mask their true desires behind the trappings of feminine propriety and decorum when all the while they're desperate to be kidnapped by a roving band of pirates, thrown aboardship, and ravaged mercilessly. Damn. This review has devolved into a cheap bodice-ripper hasn't it? I'd best stop while I'm ahead.

First impression is powder. Not that nasty baby powder smell, though. It's almost like a lightly scented body powder you'd get at a high end department store. This is my first experience with white musk and poppy both and while it's not a bad smell, it's not something I could wear all the time, if at all. If there's patchouli in here, I can't tell. This is a very feminine, light, and airy smell. Something for a luxuriously appointed drawing room, perhaps. It sure does have staying power, that's for sure. And the scent hasn't evolved at all on me. It stays true from the moment I put it on until it finally fades away to soft, gentle nothingness. The overall impression is one of incredible gentleness and femininity. But we all know that ain’t me.

Honey and clove and patchouli, oh my! It's boldly sexual in all the good ways that O and Snake Oil are but with a slightly innocent and sweet overlay. The patchouli works so well with the other notes that it's almost more of the gentle woodsy sandalwood that I love about Anne Bonny. This is exquisite. Oh lord, is it ever. This is bright, languidly sensual, and very cultured. Whereas O embodies all the things you do behind closed doors, Hetairae is all the more socially acceptable forms of flirtation and teasing that might earn a few clucks of the tongue and a well placed blush but nothing terribly harsh in the way of judgement. It's more than a little playful - the skilled seduction goes on for awhile before retreating to allow the bright and innocent notes to come forth and dance in the sunlight. Then the seduction returns, teasing with a slightly longer stay before darting back out of reach once more. This is one stunningly beautiful blend. Almost heartbreakingly so. I am completely awestruck by Beth and her ability to craft these little vials of liquid heaven. This is artistry on a par with any other craft, be it painting, songwriting, leatherworking, or writing.

There's no note listing so I'm winging it here. Ginger? Pepper? Feral musk? Cedar that's been smoldering in a fireplace? I really can't pinpoint any one particular note but it all swirls together to evoke one word in particular - warmth. It's like the buildup to raunchy, slammed-up-against-the-wall sex. It's a series of filthy words whispered in the ear followed by slow, tantalizing touches. Coming close to the naughty bits but no further. Stroking and teasing and hinting at things to come but not delivering the happy ending. Not just yet, at least. It may be worth mentioning that I dabbed this on right before bed last weekend and was blessed with the most decadent dreams, some of them including nearly the whole damn cast of Firefly. I wish I could remember more of it but the most memorable part involved Inara doing a striptease for the crew because she'd lost a bet with Mal. And we're not talking your dimly lit bar kind of striptease. This was true burlesque a la Gypsy Rose Lee. Yum.

Oh merciful heavens, this is divine. Opening the bottle, I first get smacked about the nose by a sharp woodsy odor that's not immediately identifiable. I know the listed notes specify cedar but there's something else in here that I know. I can't quite put my finger on it but it's something that should be completely obvious. That's the problem with being so new to this and not being more familiar with many of the ingredients Beth uses on a regular basis. Sometimes I'm just at a loss here. Once on, everything blends together so that it's not just that one "what the hell is it" note. The throw is powerful and long-lasting, too, which is always a bonus as my skin tends to drink up my favourite scents. It's got a spicy overhang that's very relaxed and comforting, like being curled up in front of the fire under a blanket with a favourite book. This is so delightfully exotic I can't help but hear the score to "Lawrence of Arabia" in my head. I got this as a frimp from the Lab and I can guarantee that I'll be purchasing an actual bottle of this at some point. It's such an unusual and gorgeous and complex smell. I feel lame for not being able to describe it any better than that.

I expected this to be a more animalistic scent and while there's definitely something musky there, it's just kind of hanging out in the background. I can smell a little of the other notes but very little, sadly. What amber is present peeks its head up long enough to give the overall scent a slightly sweet overlay before ducking back down again. If I didn't know there was amber in this, I wouldn't have guessed it was in here at all, it's that subtle. The dry grasses and faint woodsy aromas come out a little more but it's still very soft and gentle. At first I was somewhat disappointed with this. I'm a great lover of dogs, particularly wild canids, and I wanted so badly to fall instantly, madly in love with this scent. Like I mentioned, I was really hoping for a more powerful animal scent. However, I've worn it a few times now and am more and more amazed by how subtle everything is in here. Then it all made sense. Coyotes are not an 'in your face' type of creature. They're sneaky and subtle, creeping around and taking what they want in little bits and pieces. And while this particular fragrance fades quickly on me, it's very much a stealthy sort of scent. It's definitely grown on me and I'll likely end up experimenting by adding a few drops of something with a bit more zing to see what kind of a rise I can get out of this particular critter.

This is my first purely aquatic scent to try and did I ever pick a good one. Amusingly enough, I thought I was ordering Odin and got Olokun instead. This is what we would call A Very Happy Accident. Sniffing the bottle, I'm hit with the cool, clear scent of water. The lazy stream winding its way through the darkened forest, the towering waterfall boiling and frothing where the land meets the sea, a long prayed for rain falling upon parched and brittle pampas grass, the heavy, foreboding scent of an impending violent storm, and the sharp, salty tang of the vastdeep ocean. They're all here, combining effortlessly to leave me with an awareness of a limitless expanse of inconceivable age. But it's not an "old people and soap" kind of age. It's more the 'been there, done that' kind of indisputable and comforting wisdom. Once on, there's a faint floral that comes out. Possibly lily or something similarly light and cool. Please, for the love of all that's holy don't let the floral dominate. Florals and my chemistry typically do NOT get along. After only a few minutes, the floral is washed away by what I can only describe as purified water that's been delicately flavoured with a few drops of fresh lime juice. There are those who say water has no odor, no smell. Anyone who's ever been in marching band in a Houston summer when the temperatures can reach over 100 degrees will tell you differently. Water has a definite flavour and scent that every pore in your body cries out for. That first sip once you come off the field refreshes your body and your mind like nothing else on earth. And that's exactly what this scent is doing for me. This is simply divine. Refreshing and divine. The staying power is phenomenal but it's not overwhelming in the slightest. One application has lasted me a good 6 hours or more and my body tends to eat up oils at a bank account-depleting pace. Several hours later it hasn't changed much. There's just a hint more of sea spray, about like what you'd experience misting across your face while standing at the bow of a ship heading out to sea. It's still very comforting and tranquil. You know you're at the mercy of the ocean but for now the waters are calm, the waves gently rolling, easing you along towards whatever destination might lie ahead.

Sniffing the imp, I immediately thought of those chocolate oranges that you break apart into individual slices. A very appealing smell, sure, but one I'm more than a little apprehensive about trying on me. But what the hell? All aboard, explorers! Once on, the citrus is definitely there and in such a pleasant way. No trace of chocolate now but there's something more. Possibly the same sort of indescribable yumminess in Jester that fairly has me squirming in my seat and wanting to move about. Now that I've had time to analyze the end result, it's not unlike Ecstasy (back when I used to do that sort of thing). A sort of restless energy underscored by lust. I could just as easily choke myself on a cock, wash a sink full of dishes, or plunder the nether regions of a bound, squirming female with my tongue. And I get the feeling I'd do any or all of the above with equal fervor. It just seeps through you, filling you with a warm suffusion of pleasure not unlike orgasmic afterglow. Once in awhile, I'll really connect with a particular scent and a veritable saga will unfold in my head based around that scent and whatever associations my brain makes. With Red Devil, it's a name association first and foremost. I automatically think "Sea Devil" because of my undying love for Guy Gavriel Kay's 'Tigana'. In that lovely tale, the Sea Devil was the tavern of choice for many among the book's protagonists. There's an immediate psychological association of unbridled fun, rowdy horseplay, bawdy songs, and the sweet smell of wine and rum. Perhaps even a trace of hazy smoke and the sharp, metallic tang of a barely-cooked chunk of red meat slapped down onto a platter in front of you. The tables are scarred, of course, with various declarations of undying (and unrequited) love. For the most part, everyone inside is content and happy, enjoying the company of good friends and good drink. If one is of a mind to look more closely, one might discern that the shadowed corner shelters the requisite loner, tugging down the hood of his cloak so as not to be recognised. Desperate for human interaction if only through vicarious means, he's content to sit and watch, occasionally growling out his order to the buxom, red-headed bar maid who flounces about the tavern taking the patrons' orders. 10 ml. Without a doubt. No point in thinking about a 5 ml. This is simply too delightful not to have massive quantities of. I've read that it can get soapy but if the vaguest whiff that I can now detect is as bad as it gets, I'll be more ecstatic than I already am. The only downside that I've seen is that it does fade fairly quickly, not unlike a really good buzz if we want to stick with the "ecstasy and tavern" analogy.

This is raunchy, dirty, "throw me to the ground and plow me into oblivion" bliss. Snarly, earthy, gritty, unbridled lust. Pure pheromones and need and want and primal urges and all that good stuff that turns sex into an Olympic sport. Tie me to the bed, blindfold me, talk dirty to me, and make me sleep in the wet spot. Holy God, this stuff is niiiice. It's totally different than O or Scherezade, though. This is far more animalistic. It's probably just because of the name but it evokes more of a fantasy setting, I think. Either way, it's a wonderfully sensual, erotic scent that will hopefully spark more than a few naughty dreams. There's a powerful sweetness to it that's underscored by an earthy texture. Like taking a handful of sweet cherries and smashing them against a spongy pile of freshly turned soil. From what I've read, that's the stereotypical "Dragon's Blood" smell that is unique and indescribable as anything but "Dragon's Blood."

Dragon's Heart is somewhere between a rose/cherry/red spice scent without being overwhelming or cloying. There's also a hint of the outdoors to it. Like hiking along a crooked path overhung with berry-laden bushes, wet moss, and surrounded by ominous, craggy cliffs. It's smooth, creamy, smoky, earthy, undeniably sensual, exotic, and sexy. Yes, that's a bit of a mouthful but that's really the only way to describe it. This is a scent that would serve well as olfactory therapy if you're having a bad day. Deep, red spice through and through and man, oh man, does it ever linger! It doesn't go through much scent evolution on me as time wears on, though I'd have to say the only noticeable change is that the spice is what really stays with me.

My brain's first comment was, "it's pink. You know we don't like pink. It'll stain your skin and your clothes and you will be pink. Do you really think this is a good idea?" The funny thing about my brain is I know how to reason with it. "Nipples are pink." End of argument. On to the sniffing. Warm is right! Hot, spicy cinnamon to start with and something vaguely reminiscent of Remy Martin warmed by body heat. This is definitely a cold weather scent or something to evoke feeings of chilly temperatures. It makes me feel all snuggly. It's one of those scents that you can't stop rubbing your nose in. I expect I look rather silly about now because that's exactly what I'm doing. Lusty, leathery, spicy goodness, plain and simple. I feel lickable. I feel wicked. I feel warm and fuzzy and just a little squirmy. I have a feeling I'm going to end up owning all of the Ars Draconis series. They're just so damned yummy and they seem to work really, really well on me.

While smelling the opened bottle, I couldn't help but think, "well, that's interesting but I really don't see what the big fuss is about." Kind of a spicy overhang with mild vanilla beneath. Nothing particularly thrilling or exciting. Spice and bean. How great could that be? Once applied, however, a bolshy great lightbulb pops on over my head, choirs of angels begin to sing, and God Himself reaches down to pinch my cheek before bestowing an epiphany upon me. Yes, it really is that intense. Strong vanilla but it's undercut by God knows how many spices and other notes are present, none of them specifically leaping out at me to give a name to this smell. Possibly a little cinnamon and a trace of what might be juniper. But there's no one single dominating element apart from the lingering vanilla, which sort of hangs out in the wings like a bemused stage manager, making sure the play unfolds as it should. And a drama it is indeed; a swirling, sensual, squirming sea of flesh and heady lust and growly need and all those things that make the human body a decadently wonderful playground. It's both the sensual slaveslut living only for physical pleasure and the captured soldier, itching to get his hands on a weapon and reclaim his honour, carving it in steel and blood. There are so many different ways this could go depending upon your chemistry, your mindset at the moment, and of course your hormone level. And we all know what my wonky hormones do to my sense of smell. One of the Lab's most popular oils, I've read, and cue the damn Monkees because I'm a believer. I see a 5 ml or possibly a 10 in my future. This is too incredible to not have about me at all times. At some point I will likely combine this with a touch of either Geek, DeSade, or Jacob's Ladder to see if I can ramp up the level of menace that's hinting to surface. Because it's there. Boy howdy, is it ever there.

First time reviewer here (but not on LJ) The story that the name is based on intrigues me above and beyond what it should, I think. I'm just a kinkster at heart, though, so there's no point in denying it. In the bottle, this is complex, dusky, and almost foreboding. At the risk of sounding cliche, it's a "power smell" but not in the sense of brute, physical force. It's more evocative of a psychological mastermind, biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike. I don't get more than a faint hint of lavendar. I get mostly a deep, foresty/tobacco combination that I can't wait to slather onto my skin. On, this reminds me of walking into a smoke shop without the suffocating sensory overload that usually accompanies such an excursion. The sandalwood comes through, bright and lively, and is undercut ever so slightly by the lavender which I can finally detect. The nag champa blends seamlessly with the other smells and the end result is a very balanced experience. I have a burning desire to smell this on a man. The tobacco fades fairly soon, leaving the same type of pleasant, woody smell that I love about Anne Bonny. Perhaps its just my own admittedly androgynous nature but I'm really digging the balance on me. This one is very evocative for me as only a few other oils have been. It makes me feel like a wild animal being stalked. I keep sniffing my wrist and looking over my shoulder, half expecting to see a dark pair of eyes gleaming at me from the darkness. And wow, in a flash, I'm unbelievably... "happy." I want brutal, predatory, 'slammed up against the wall' attention. I really wasn't expecting that at all, but this smell has snuck up behind me, caught me unawares, fisted a hand in my hair, and yanked my head back to expose a throat ripe for mauling.