Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Adult Fairy Tales - Hansel & Gretel Retold by Erica Lynn

Need a quick little tale to help you escape the middle of the week blues?
 How about a twist on an old childhood fairy tale?

This is the true account of Hansel and Gretel. Forget your silly, misguided tales of two siblings and a house of gingerbread and cakes. This is the story of what happens when love battles against lust. When the yearnings of the heart are forced to wage war against the base needs and desires we all possess. When the time comes to face who we really are. What we truly want. What we need. 

A Warning: Their story should not be taken lightly, for we all toe the line between human and savage animal. We walk around in the light, hoping others don’t see the depravity lurking within, begging to be let free. So take a deep breath, set up your defenses, and slowly turn the page. I dare you. 

**This is a dark and extremely explicit retelling of the classic fairy tale, Hansel and Gretel. In this novelette, Hansel and Gretel are NOT brother and sister.**


Tuesday, October 27, 2020

A Dystopian Version of Sleeping Beauty


These tales aren’t the ones from your childhood, but adult-only reads with sexy heroes. Decadent Publishing offers a variety of twisted romance stories based on Grimm’s Fairytales. These stories are like none you’ve ever known.  

One of my favorite authors is Taryn Kincaid who has the uncanny ability to twist a fairy tale
and she has her own version of Sleeping Beauty.
A Beyond Fairytales story
By
Taryn Kincaid
A dystopian retelling of Sleeping Beauty




            Sleeping Beauty in a post-apocalyptic land…

            In a world gone mad, where little remains but a vast wasteland of sand, the leader of a troop of roving warriors welcomes a brave young woman into his midst.

            Much as he burns for her, Major Clay Worthington swears to keep his distance from the mysterious woman, so sensitive even the stinging rain can wound her.
Rosina Brierly is besotted with the formidable soldier and will gladly trade her life for one torrid night of blissful passion in his arms.

       But when sleep overcomes them, will true love prevail?

***********************

Excerpt:
            Does the major ever feel lust? Does he covet a woman’s touch? He never gave any sign he did. Too aloof and austere, too remote from the simple emotions of mere mortal men.

            He shook her again. “Wake up, princess. The rain will come soon.”

            The men looked forward to the rain. They hated the relentless sun blasting down upon them, as if they thought it would incinerate what was left of the earth beneath their boots, baking the soft sand into badlands as hard as concrete. They’d strip off their T-shirts and boots, their combat fatigues, and sometimes even their camouflage boxer shorts, and dance and play, naked or nearly so, in the slanting gray soup, laughing, tossing round balls or throwing saucer-shaped plastic discs to each other.

            For her, the showers had the opposite effect. The stinging rain sliced into her sensitive skin like acid, raising blisters and sores, sometimes bloodying her.

            She did not know why the major called her princess. Perhaps he didn’t know either. Whatever royalty once walked the earth had long gone, fled underground or died in battle or simply disappeared. The war engulfed every human on the planet, every inch of land, and had waged so long she doubted anyone remembered anymore. Well, maybe Nicodemus. At least he sometimes hinted he did in the stories he told. And she had seen him whisper into the major’s ear, unknown things that made the major pale beneath his weathered tan.

            Major Worthington did not treat her like a princess, though, except when she slumbered, when he knelt before her in her fantasy world, his head bowed, his fist over his heart, laying his sword at her feet and claiming the role of knight. Her hero. Her champion. When she awoke, he remained one of the elite warrior breed roaming the planet, bristling with weapons like the soldiers he led. He treated her as the translator she was to him, sometimes barking orders to her as if she were one of his men, only occasionally seeking her counsel.

            She came fully awake as he jerked her up from the ground and yanked her toward him. The glare of the setting sun broadsided her, hurting her eyes. Why was he so insistent about the impending rain? No clouds yet darkened the sky, although the hour sped toward evening dusk now. But no hint of shadow yet blotted the horizon.

            “I can smell it,” he muttered.






Saturday, May 30, 2020

Six Sentence Sunday - Handcuffs & Silk

Read six sexy lines taken from the book Handcuffs & Silk



Approaching his head, she bent down and took his mouth in a deep kiss then blindfolded him with the silk scarf.
Running her hands along the sides of his body, from under his armpits all the way to his waist and across his thighs, erotic ideas swirled in her mind of what to do with him.

She reached out to touch his rod. Soft yet hard, as if ancient silk wrapped across steel, slid under her fingers. She bent down and ran her tongue along the length to taunt him, and it jumped with her stroke.
Perfect.

Available from Decadent Publishing and Amazon.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

Six Sentence Sunday - Crow Magic

Smooth tanned skin rippled as his rigid muscles flexed. His eyes radiated intensity, gold flecks mingling in the black irises. Raven hair hung over his broad shoulders as he moved. He gazed at her with desire until the reality of her situation sank in. She’d just experienced the appetizer and the time had come for the main course. Bring it on!

Taken from CROW MAGIC

Friday, September 21, 2018

Fetish Friday - Gotta Have Those Shoes!

Do you and your honey like to role play? How about "Shoe Salesman"?
Have you ever bought a sexy pair of shoes?

A 19th Century opera started the tradition of a man drinking champagne out of the brides shoe. In 2009, a shoe manufacture made a glass shoe just for this purpose.

Sigmund Freud considered the foot binding practiced by the Chinese as a form of fetishism. Qing Dynasty sex manuals listed 48 different ways of playing with women's bound feet.

The movie There's Something About Mary featured a former boyfriend of Mary with a shoe fetish. He tried to steal her shoes.

In the animated comedy show Family Guy the character Glenn Quagmire has a foot and shoe fetish, among other fetishes.


 
In Lady Gaga's music video "Paparazzi (explicit version)" by Johnas Akerlund there is a scene in which a man is licking the singer's black high heeled pump.

****************
FACT: According to psychologists, the shoe and the foot are the most common sources of sexual fetishism in Western society.

Hmm... come on ladies... we get pedicures, paint out toe nails, wear toe rings, and slide our feet into six inch heeled shoes... we know we like it.
Besides, foot rubs are divine!

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

New Boxed Set to Warm Cold Winter Nights


Cold winter nights are perfect to curl up with a hot book. 
Grab a soft blanket, a glass of wine, light a candle 
and let these amazing authors carry you away.







Love Me Hard includes the newest book, Tempting Him from Jeanne St. James.

Monday, February 12, 2018

New Release from Jeanne St. James - Tempting Him

Tempting Him (An Obsessed Novella)
By Jeanne St. James

Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance, BDSM

On Sale for a limited time for 99¢ in the Love Me Hard Boxed Set
A set of 15 hot & spicey romances that will tickle your fancy!



It’s not just a love story, it’s an obsession...

Skylar:           

Every time my neighbor jogs past my house, I do my best to tempt him. Washing my car, watering my lawn, doing yoga in the grass with my all my assets in the air. I’m not sure if he notices me, but I sure can’t miss him.
Then one day he falls... into my arms and into my bed. Surprisingly, we’re better matched than I would’ve expected. But when he reveals who he is, my world comes crashing down around me because if he finds out my secret we’re finished before we’ve even begun.

Cade:

Three days a week, I put myself through hell by jogging through my neighborhood. I suffer through it simply to catch a glimpse of a woman I don’t know. Every time I pass her house she’s outside tempting me. Until one day I fall... over my feet, over my heart, over this woman and into her arms.
I know nothing about her, but I want to discover everything. Even her deepest, darkest secrets. However, little does she know, I have one, too. One that may sever the tie that binds us.




Chapter One
Skylar:

I watch as sweat drips one bead at a time onto my over-priced yoga mat. The sun is so freaking hot and here I am, like an idiot out in my yard, bent over in the downward facing dog pose for the past million years. Okay, not years... maybe more like a million seconds. But my body has decided it hates me (nothing new) and is cramping while my head spins. Even better, my over-priced yoga pants have clawed their way up my crack (as well as one other place). And still...
No neighbor.
What the hell?
Despite my eyeballs’ attempt at bulging out of their sockets, I peek at my sports watch. He should’ve been by here two-point-five minutes ago.
Shit.
The man is usually like clockwork, jogging by my house on Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons every week. For the most part, anyway. Though, thunderstorms seem to discourage him from his cardio. (Not sure why.)
On those days, I would be willing to recommend another type of cardio to get his heart pumping. And maybe get his hips pumping, too.
Anyway... look at me! Doing yoga on my front lawn, on the uneven grass, waiting like a desperate woman. (I’m not, really, I promise! It just looks that way.)
But, damn, the man is fine and when he jogs past shirtless, he’s shiny with sweat, which makes me want to drag him inside and give him a sponge bath with my tongue.
My thighs start shaking as I peek between my spread legs, because, of course, my ass has to be facing the street. I want him to get a good look at what I’m offering.
I may even wiggle it a little when he jogs by.
That is if I don’t pass out into a heap first.
I sigh.
Then sigh again a little louder just for good measure.
Maybe it would be easier if I just took up jogging. Wear one of those sexy sports bras, put my hair up in a cute little pony tail, plaster a smile on my face and follow him around the block at a perky pace.
I’ll die first.
****
Cade:

Why I ever started this shit, I’ll never know. No, I lie. I know. I thought, “Cade, dude, wouldn’t it be great to up your cardio game and start running?”
I answered myself with, “Yeah, man, that would be great and fun, too!” And then maybe I won’t get so winded when I play basketball with the guys. I’ll have more endurance, I’ll look and feel younger, and...
Fuck that.
Running sucks. And I don’t even think what I do can be considered as running. No, it’s more of a jog. Or a lope. Or trotting like a donkey with a lame hoof.
Inhell. Exhell.
My chest burns, my leg muscles spasm, my balls feel like they’re floating in a puddle of sweat, and the crack of my ass...
I’m not even going there. (Trust me, you don’t want to, either.)
So, why don’t I just stop the torture? (Good question!)
I’ve asked myself that for the past month.
And the answer has always been...
Her.
I sacrifice three days a week just to see a woman I don’t know.
Not sure why, but she always seems to be outside at the same time of the day. For that reason, I make sure that’s when I go running (jogging, trotting, limping) by.
Am I crazy to torture myself because I find someone attractive and I’d like to get her attention?
Eh. Maybe.
Why don’t I just knock on her door and ask her out? (Another good question.)
Maybe I want to impress her with my physique and athletic prowess.
But honestly, something has to give and it has to be soon. Because this running shit sucks balls and I’d rather stick razor blades under my fingernails.
At least my slow trot is the right speed to observe her without being creepy. Walking would be too slow and obvious. Driving too quick and useless, not to mention dangerous when she’s clearly a distraction.
And, of course, my pace always allows me enough time to enjoy the show she gives me.
On Wednesday, she was out washing her car, her top soaked, her nipples pushing through the thin fabric of her shirt, and when she bent over to scrub the hood of said car, my boner just about popped out of my shorts. You know, those little nylon running shorts. The ones with the mesh liner, clearly not made for sexual arousal.
But I digress.
The week before, she was out watering her lawn. And, once again, her top was wetter than her grass.
Here’s the thing, the entire neighborhood has built-in sprinklers.
Maybe hers are broken.
It’s possible.
I grunt as I turn the corner and try to push myself a little faster since I’m off my game today. I’m later than normal, and I want my running to look as effortless as possible. It needs to look as though I’ve got my shit together and I’m not secretly suffering.
My eyes swing to the left as I jog. She’s the fourth house up. The brick ranch home with the two-car garage.
Two houses to go yet.
One house.
My eyes widen as I see her ass in tight black yoga pants in the air. My step stutters but I can’t stop my momentum.
My mouth becomes an O, partly because I’m falling over my own two feet, the other because she’s dropped to her knees and is now arching backwards grabbing onto her heels, her generous tits straining against her top.
Last thing I see is her blinking upside down at me as her head hangs down her back.
Suddenly, I’m staring at nothing but pavement (and my loss of manhood). The little bit of oxygen I had sucked into my lungs is now gone.
Then, what seems like seconds later, bare, cute, red painted toes come into view.
I want to just die.



About the Author:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup


Author Links:


Sunday, August 6, 2017

Sneak Peak Sunday - Eagle Dance Shifter Romance


Today's Sneak Peak comes from Eagle Dance
Book 2 in the Legend of the Spirit series.
Part of the 1 Night Stand Series by Decadent Publishing.

BLURB:
Dyami Schafer, a Native American from the Chippewa tribe, leads a lonely life due to his large size and unusual appearance. When his nesting instinct sets in, he turns to Madame Eve and 1Night Stand to help him find his spirit mate. Or at least a woman who accepts him as an eagle shifter.

Amanda Collins never stopped loving the Chippewa boy she knew from her childhood. Maybe a night with a Native American man will help her forget the past and let her move on with her life.

Sometimes, it’s necessary to take a step into the past before dancing into the future. With the help of Madame Eve, will the Spirit of the Eagle carry Dyami and Amanda?



She brushed the gray tips and white strands of hair that gave him such untamed nobility. With a finger, she traced his face from his temple to his jaw, across his lips, then scraped her nails along the fine hair under his chin. A man of his enormous size would be capable of great strength, and a gal could easily lose herself in his arms for more than one night. His gaze intensified under her scrutiny.

“What do you see when you look at me?” he asked and lowered his eyes. Sinfully long lashes brushed his cheeks.

She considered him to be the most gorgeous man alive. His eyes mesmerized her. Some would consider the unusual color to be eerie, but she saw a whirlwind of emotions, from pain to hope, drawing her into his soul. Did his unusual appearance cause issues and uncertainty in his life? Despite his intimidating frame, he exhibited control and gentle qualities in the tender way he’d held her when they danced and the way he’d admitted his soft spot for animals. In arms like his, a woman could find paradise in many ways.

She cupped his face and forced him to meet her gaze. “I see a handsome, mystical warrior from another world.”

“Handsome, huh? I think you need your vision checked. I am nothing more than a simple Chippewa from Michigan.” His mouth was inches from hers. “However, I can be magical and take you wherever you want to go.”

“Then dance with me,” she whispered.


CLICK HERE to check out other awesome authors' Sneak Peaks.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

#HumpDayHottie

Say hello to Dustin Stiles, the hero in Taming Rachael.


Rachael Willis signed up for a 1Night Stand with hopes of finding something that is missing in her life. Is it a coincidence her date is scheduled during a class reunion? Why did the one person she’s avoided for years have to show up?

Dustin Stiles never recovered from the one that got away. Madame Eve is his last hope to get her back.


Will one night be enough to wash away the pain of the past and rekindle the passion they once shared?


Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Tasty Teaser - First Chapter from Taming Rachel

This book begins with a prologue, however, I've selected the first chapter. Please enjoy this tease from the newly released 



Chapter One


Ten years had passed since their college graduation. Tired of the typical class reunion socializing, Rachel stepped into the shadows to sip her wine. To most people, being in a room containing several ex-lovers could be a bit of a downer, but enough time had passed and everyone greeted each other like old friends. The evening consisted of meeting spouses, seeing photos of children, and hearing about various occupational paths. Of course, gossip of divorces topped the conversations.

Some were using the opportunity to network for their careers. The school district she worked for had made some drastic cuts, leaving her jobless. All her belongings were in storage, and she lived out of a suitcase while job hunting. Surely there had to be districts looking for an innovative art teacher. A couple of classmates who held positions as principals offered their business cards with the promise to accept her resume.

A loud shout drew her attention. Members of the championship football team were honored guests at her class reunion. Gazing across one of the finest rooms in the Vegas Castillo Hotel, she watched her twin brother, Bill, ham it up with old friends. He wore a permanent smile as he laughed with his long-lost, but not forgotten, teammates. She suspected after being blessed with fatherhood and a job as a corporate lawyer, he didn’t see much of his college buddies. With animated gestures, they were talking about the season of fame. One fellow gently tossed the championship football with the players’ signatures to a couple of guys. What a rough and burly bunch they still were.

She loved her brother but often wondered if she’d made a mistake going to the same college as him. During their four years, she enjoyed the popularity that went along with being the star quarterback’s sister. She’d tolerated the overbearing nature of her twin who criticized her choice of men, even if she dated one of his close friends. Any man he pushed her toward never seemed to satisfy her and became one more in a string of onenight stands.

Lucky for her, he stayed out of her love life after his wedding. Most of the men she knew had married and settled into neat, scheduled lives. So much had changed over time; once lean, vigorous bodies had given in to the softness of sedimentary lifestyles revolving around their budding families.

One man managed to still have his muscular physique and remain as hot as ever; Dustin “Dusty” Stiles, the legendary linebacker who’d led the team in tackles. Back in the day, the girls on campus considered him the epitome of tall, dark, and hunky. From the stares he received as he walked past them, they still deemed him so. He wore his black tie loosened around the open collar of the white dress shirt tapering down to his narrow waist. Black pants covered the world’s perfect butt and thighs. Polished Durango boots with silver tips reflected his cowboy side.

Rachel had managed to dodge him all night. She’d evaded everything regarding him for years. After college, she left Michigan and her family to move to a small town in New York. She didn’t see much of her brother and always avoided discussing news of his friends, especially after what happened with Dusty after Bill’s wedding.

However, any thoughts of him usually accompanied a self-induced orgasm. No other man she’d dated could compare to him. He pushed her to sexual heights not reached since. She loved what he did to her and hated how he used her. Memories of how she gave in to him time and time again still generated pain in her heart. She missed his friendship, his dominant qualities, and his magical touch. He haunted her.

Time had passed. According to the talk of the night, he’d moved to Wyoming for work as an engineer on the wind turbines but ended up making a fortune when oil was discovered on the property he bought. They were different people now, but what if they still had that volatile magnetism between them?

Putting down his signature rum and coke on a nearby table, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. She watched his hands, remembering how they strummed her body like a guitar. Heat spread down her spine and pooled between her thighs. Standing sideways, he rolled the sleeves, baring his strong forearms; the flash of a watch made her blink. The black cowboy hat he wore shadowed his face, but she swore he sent a fleeting look in her direction. A slow grin appeared on his face. Part of her wished to be the recipient of the smile instead of those he conversed with. He radiated brilliance with perfect teeth, and memories of those lips made her hotter.

Single women flirted with him while several married ones undressed him with their eyes. One of the flirty females took his hat for a moment. He held out his hand and flashed a sharp glance at the woman. With a blush, she complied and gave it back. His dark hair worn cropped close in a military style reflected his assertive and compelling personality. His nose no longer possessed the familiar bump she recalled him having as a result of its being broken twice. She bit her lip and recalled how she spent many quiet moments caressing his nose and face with her fingertips and lips.

Moving around the room with ease and chatting with her brother and friends, he carried an air of dignity. He walked with a slight limp and managed to make that sexy! She thought back to the game that ended his football career. The injury cost him his scholarship and depression knocked on his door, but, with her help, he kept his spirits up. They often studied together, played cards, or just hung out. Time created a wonderful friendship. Funny how simple, sweet sociable chats often ended with him inside her. She warmed with the recollection of sitting naked on his lap while his leg rested in a cast.

Needing a change, she stepped outdoors onto a patio and debated whether to stay at the reunion a while longer or head to her room and call it a night. One of her sorority sisters followed her outside.

“Are you okay?” Brenda asked.

“I’m fine…just needed some air.” Taking a deep breath, she relaxed.

“Too many exes in one room?” She flipped her hair.

“You could say that.”

“You were such a wild child, Rachel Willis.” Leaning against the railing, Brenda took a slow sip of her Long Island Ice Tea. “You had it all…good grades, popularity, and the hot guys. What was it you used to say?”

“Guys were like a box of chocolates, and I simply had to sample them all so I could decide what kind of guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“I can’t believe with all that sampling, you didn’t find a favorite flavor.” Brenda raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t sleep with them all, did you?”

“Of course not all of them! But, damn, who could resist popping a guy’s cherry?”

“For sure. Virgin Destroying Squad to the rescue. God we were nuts.” Brenda snorted in an unladylike manner.

“Seriously though, I didn’t have to screw a guy to figure out if I liked him or not. I didn’t enjoy being controlled by those so-called experienced guys with their macho attitudes of possession.” She turned to her friend. “Remember the guy I left at the movie theater? He told me he didn’t want me wearing nail polish! I hadn’t even kissed him, and he went all freaky on me, telling me what to do!”

“He had to hitch a ride back to campus because you had the car.” She laughed. “What a dweeb. Do you know whatever happened to him?”

“I heard he’s on his third wife.”

They paused to share a quick giggle.

“But, if memory serves me, you had a thing for virgins.”

“They were so sweet.” She played coy. “I felt sorry for the cuties coming to college intact. It was my duty to help them out. They will always remember me being their first.”

“You were afraid of being forgotten? Pft.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Those boys caused your emotional downfall. You used the ability to dominate guys as a way to just get an itch scratched rather than developing a relationship. A guy who knew what he wanted and how to get it would have had you wrapped around his pinky. You should have left the boys alone and focused on the right man.”

“Puh-lease! Not again.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ve been giving me this speech since our senior year.”

“Alright, I’ll lay off the lecture crap. But you know I’m right.” Brenda gave her a quick hug. “I’m so glad you came. I can’t imagine being at a class reunion without you.”

“You had a great idea for these mini-reunions. I didn’t make it to Michigan when they celebrated the real anniversary of the championship game on campus last year. I won’t make it to the official reunion in October. I even missed the mini-reunion in Chicago last month.”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate with losing your job and moving. It surprised me when you said you were coming to Vegas, though.” Brenda winked at her.

“You are such a liar. You were the one who convinced me to try Madame Eve’s service to find that man with experience.” She smirked. “Even my brother and mother are in on this.”

“What?”

“I’ve been feeling a bit lonely for a year and confided in my mom.” She shifted on her feet to ease a small ache. “Somehow she managed to bring it up to my sister-in-law who told my brother. My brother told mom to tell me to go through Madame Eve’s elite dating service. They were both all over me when I signed up and had a date.”

“They only care about you and want you happy. To be honest, I have faith in her and1Night Stand. Hey, she brought me and my sex god back together. Some things are just meant to be.” Brenda shrugged. “I had no idea she’d have a match for you so quickly, though. How convenient to have your date during our reunion. Say, when are you meeting him?”

“I don’t know. According to a note in my room, he will find me.” She picked up a small bowl of nuts off a nearby table and nibbled on a few. “I don’t know a thing about him. Madame Eve insists he is perfect and told me to trust her on this.”

“Wow! Sounds so hot! What if it’s somebody from our class?” Waving off Rachel’s offer of nuts, she drew her phone out of her purse.

“Eww.” She wrinkled her nose and set the bowl down. “I’m not into married men with beer bellies.”

“Hey, my man is still as buff as the day we graduated.” Holding up her phone, Brenda flashed a photo of a handsome man in swim trunks. “It’s okay. You can peek. Just don’t touch.”

“True, he is a hottie.” Would she ever find the one who would rock her world? “You are so lucky to have your perfect guy.”

“Time to take a selfie. Smile, sister.” Brenda held up her phone, slipped an arm around her waist, and snapped a photo. “Seriously, Rach, why didn’t you ever have a real relationship with any of your flings?”

“The only one who I wanted saw me as nothing more than a friend with benefits. I guess he didn’t care enough to see me more than a fuck buddy.” She glanced over her shoulder to the party behind her.

“Your brother probably scared him off.” After a pause, her friend leaned in to whisper, “That good, huh?”

“Oh lord, try amazing.” She met her friend’s eyes. “He understood exactly what I wanted or needed, even if I didn’t really know myself. He cultivated my unruly ways.”

“Tell me, who was this magnificent farmer who plowed you good?”

Casting her eyes downward, she shook her head. If she put his name on her lips, a rush of emotions would bubble to the already fragile surface.

“Wait a minute, I remember a guy. He’s here tonight, isn’t he?” Brenda grabbed her by the elbow. “It’s Wild Stiles, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She nodded then took a drink.

“Oh…wow. He’s become super successful. What a catch. He’s looking like a cross between John Cena and a dark-haired Channing Tatum tonight. Total hotness.” Brenda fanned her face. “And here you are, still waiting for your 1Night Stand man to show up, tame you, and capture your heart. He’ll have some B…I…G shoes to fill.” She let out a whistle. “I’m sure the man capable of tying you down, in more ways than one, will find you. Maybe it’ll be tonight. If Madame Eve’s man doesn’t turn out, I think you should consider swallowing your pride and have Mr. Orgasm for breakfast. He might be the only one to pacify you after this dry spell you’ve had.”

“Brenda, you’ve had too much to drink.” She laughed and pointed at her friend’s empty glass. “The past is in the past. Besides, I don’t know if there is anyone who can, as you say it, tame me.” 

“Whatever.” She waved a hand in the air. “I’m off to find my man and hit the dance floor. I’ll catch you later.” Brenda left her to wallow in her own thoughts. Pulling the thin strap of her small purse across her chest, she stopped at the railing to watch the fountains in the courtyard and recollect the last ten years. She kept in touch with few of her old friends, preferring to spend time with new acquaintances. After graduation, she took a teaching position in the Appalachian Mountains. Working with kids made her happy, and she’d found a guy who took her mind off Dustin for a while. They experimented with bondage in the bedroom and even went to a BDSM club a couple times. Sadly, one evening, he turned into a disillusioned self-proclaimed king of kink. Not comfortable with the role he wanted her to play in his messed-up fantasies, she ended the relationship.

I was so stupid. I should have avoided anyone who resembled him. What is it about that man that stays under my skin?

Three years had passed since the failed relationship. In the meantime, her life continued in a strict management of time. She gave up any semblance of a social existence and returned to school, expecting a master’s degree would cement her teaching position. Unfortunately, it hadn’t. She closed her eyes and set her determination to focus on the future. She needed to find a new job and start living again. At the moment, her carefully controlled life remained packed away in cardboard boxes. She would have to be content with her battery-operated boyfriend for a while.

Opening her eyes, she watched the fountains dance. A laughing couple walked past, arm in arm. They stopped for a moment, and the woman placed her hand on her rounded belly. The man positioned his hand on hers, and they shared a smile. A pang of jealousy reminded Rachel of a forgotten dream involving a good man and family. She wished for what they had. She deserved love, security, and good old-fashioned human companionship. Maybe her taste in men held her back. She shook her head when the image of Dustin appeared. No more bad boys!

Before her world collapsed, she’d sought release from her loneliness and reached out to Madame Eve’s dating service as Brenda recommended. The forms she filled out for 1Night Stand contained enough information to give her a night with a hot stud. Why did Madame Eve have to find a guy now? The timing couldn’t be worse to start a relationship. Maybe the guy would be a no-show.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Tuesday Teaser from Slippers & Chains: Sugar Dust by Raven ShadowHawk



Blurb:
Dan loves submissive women and longs to build a harem of willing females to fill what he lovingly calls his ‘Slave Library.’ He shares his plans for sexual bliss with Karen, the first of his submissives in his mind and his heart. But when an unexpected visit from his mother leads to uncomfortable questions about his ex, Dan realizes that past mistakes are catching up to him, faster than he can run.

The first D/s relationship to blend comfortably with her vanilla life is the one Karen shares with Dan. She treasures the freedom in the act of submission and wants nothing more than to share it with her Master for as long as possible. Why then, does he insist on bringing other women into their bed? And why can’t he say he loves her?

As Dan battles his inner demons, Karen hopes a sexy mini break at the exclusive fetish club, Sugar Dust will allow them time to relax and reconnect. There she meets Beth, personification of Dan’s past storming in to demolish her present. Can she show Dan that their relationship is strong enough to break the chains of his past, before Beth drives an immoveable wedge between them with her tales of what once was?

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Excerpt (Naughty!)
As Dan parked the car, a low moan quivered from the passenger side. Karen slumped against her seat belt, eyes closed, forehead sweaty. Though she might have argued, Dan had never seen her more beautiful or more desirable. While the car clicked, rumbled, and cooled he stared at her face and longed to touch her, bury himself inside her in every way possible. Instead, he slapped her thigh hard enough to make her yelp.

‘Well done, Kaz. Take it out now.’

She moaned, turning a bleary eye toward him. ‘I still don't get to come?’

The pitiful tilt of her downturned lips softened his intended response. ‘Not yet.’

‘I hate you sometimes.’

‘You'll thank me later. Promise.’

Her fingers slipped beneath the shiny hem of her latex dress. He enjoyed the contrast of her dark skin against the white material as she fumbled around. Seconds later, she held up the remote controlled bullet, wet and gleaming. The musky scent of her frustrations filled the car and Dan breathed deep, filling his nostrils with the wonderful smell.

‘Put it in there.’

Karen shoved the bullet into the glove compartment and composed herself with a series of slow breaths.

‘Better?’ he asked.

‘I suppose.’ Glowering, she clambered from the car and kicked the door shut.

Dan chuckled and when Karen walked around to open his door, the grin grew wider. He stroked her burning cheek with the pad of his thumb. ‘Karen,’ he murmured, ‘my sweet, little Kitten. You'll be okay. Before the night is out you'll get to come.’

She whined. ‘But I need it now.’

He peered over his shoulder, casting a sweeping gaze left and right. The chance to further tease his slave presented itself in the form of a deserted car park. How could he resist?

‘Now?’ he whispered. ‘Here? In the street? I can do that.’ With deft hands, he gripped her slender shoulders and spun her round. Her back pressed flat against his chest, and he stroked the slippery latex clinging to her skin. First her breasts, squeezing the firm globes before skimming down to the small dent of her bellybutton. He tickled her thighs beneath the hem of her dress. She jumped.

‘I could,’ he breathed in her ear, ‘and no one would think anything of it. Not here. I could hold you against the car.’ He did, pushing her hands out to lie flat on the roof. Her cheek touched the metal and he watched the condensation of her breath mingle with the wisps of steam rising from the hot surface. She groaned.

‘I could pull off your knickers.’ Dan released her hands and teased his way back under the dress. He could feel her thighs trembling. ‘Wait, you're not wearing any.’

‘You bloody took them!’

‘I know.’ Dan resisted the urge to check his pocket. He knew they were still there, damp and musky. 

‘One less barrier.’ He flipped the bottom of the dress over Karen's high, round ass and tucked it in around her waist. Both hands stroked her exposed skin, watching the pattern of goose bumps prickling in the cool night air. So fucking beautiful . . .

‘It would only take a few minutes.’ He thrust his hips against her. ‘Wouldn't even have to pull my trousers down all the way. A quick fuck.’ When he nipped her ear, a low growl rumbled at the back of her throat.

Her instant responsiveness made him aware of a tightening across the front of his trousers. He resisted the urge to adjust himself; wouldn't do to let the submissive know that she was actually the one in charge.

‘You'd love that, wouldn't you? A speedy shag against the side of my car in the middle of a public car park. You're such a dirty girl.’

The loud slap of his hand against her ass cheeks made them both jump. The giddy thrill of power made Dan's head spin. His breathing hitched, and he caught the scent of Karen's arousal on his fingers again. It fired his blood as surely as any over the counter aphrodisiac.

‘Do you still need to come? Now?’ As his breathed the words into her ear, Dan walked his fingers over the curve of her bottom. Passed the top of her thighs and round the front to cup her pussy. So hot. So wet. He groaned. ‘You shaved?’

Karen humped his fingers. ‘Of course I did. It's Sugar Dust.’

‘I love it when you're smooth down there. It's so fucking sexy. You missed a bit though.’

‘You try catching everything with a shitty lady-razor.’

‘Don't worry, it's amazing.’ Dan glanced over his shoulder. ‘Don't move.’

The lights in the huge exclusive club made pools of yellow light on the tarmac. Though he heard the faint notes of music from within, he heard no voices. Saw no people. Perfect. He dropped to his knees behind Karen and pressed his nose against her backside. He rubbed his cheek against her lower one then nipped the fleshy underside of her arse. She gasped. He did it again. A third time. The fourth bite drew forth a strangled wail as he brought his teeth together and turned his head from side to side.

‘You're mine,’ he whispered, made bold by her intense responses. ‘This mark proves you're mine.’

Karen sounded like she might be having trouble breathing. ‘You don't need a mark to prove that.’

He traced his finger along her trembling inner thigh. Thick, slippery wetness coated his fingers, a tangible reminder of the day she'd had. He licked it away. ‘You've been so good today. It will be worth it, little Kitten.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Good. You ready?’

‘Always.’

*****************************

Author Bio and Links
Raven ShadowHawk is one face of the author who writes fantasy and horror under a second pseudonym. She is, according to most . . . okay, according to herself, the fun one of the pair.

Living in Leicester, UK with her partner (the Funk Master) and twin sons (known as Sprog1 and Sprog2), Raven writes erotica ranging from sensual and romantic to graphic and totally PWP.

Her interests include badly produced porn, chocolate, dressing up (particularly in matching underwear) and shouting at women who wear stupid shoes and/or skinny jeans.

Discover more about Raven on her blog (www.ileandraXraven.co.uk/about/about2)
Contact Raven via email (info@ravenshadowhawk.co.uk)
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Out Now! Slippers & Chains: Sugar Dust by Raven ShadowHawk (@ileandraXraven#erotica #bdsm #domination #submission