Excerpt from Run To Ground

Run To Ground

(#darkfantasy, #MM, #shapeshifter, #werewolves, #eroticromance, #secondchance)
In the savage and ancient breed of mythic wuv, two men fight for their clan, their lives, and to reclaim the passion one threw away…

Tallin Undine was once human, but is now a wuv-beast, a creature of the Zhalazti clan, ruled by the moon, and made through moon-madness and savagery. With his human family slaughtered, Tallin continually struggles to hold on to some bit of his humanity. After being scarred by a former lover, Tallin has clawed his way to some measure of standing. But now, his clan chief has been killed, and the security of his adoptive nation is at risk. His mission is to bring back the man who must battle to claim his position as rightful chief. Yet there’s one problem—Emmanuel Grimshaw is the very man Tallin does not want to see again, who savagely mated him so long ago, then left him to pick up the pieces of his life.

When he was too young to fully control his inner-beast, Emmanuel Grimshaw claimed—and maimed—a man he loved. After fleeing his clan, he’d gone in search of his humanity, and a way to tame the wuv within. But when Tallin unexpectedly arrives, any peace Emmanuel thought he’d found with a human companion vanishes. And it isn’t long before Emmanuel’s inner-beast rises and he reclaims Tallin, binding him once again.
Now, Emmanuel will do his duty, but not without Tallin at his side. A battle for survival and love is about to begin. Who will triumph?

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EXCERPT

Tallin turned away from the place they’d chosen to consummate the werevaria claiming. He forced his animal down. A large paw-like hand settled upon his shoulder, the claws digging into his human flesh. He turned to gaze up at Emmanuel’s man-beast visage.

“You want something that is not our nature,” he said in a deep throaty voice. His red-hued eyes glittered. “I need your help. I need your…commitment.”

Tallin felt the possession of the claws on his shoulder, drawing his blood. The warm crimson liquid that spilled down his shoulder.

“It shouldn’t be this difficult,” Tallin said, “but something is different between us–something has changed. You and I…” He couldn’t help but be truthful, though he would prefer to remain silent and follow orders as he was bred to do. Emmanuel’s grip tightened, but so quickly he transformed back to human form and his claws no longer dug into Tallin’s shoulder. His human grip seemed just as firm.

“Tell me,” Emmanuel said in his human tone.

“It all comes so easily to you,” Tallin said. “Watching you change is breathtaking, almost rapturous, waiting for your beast to emerge. But it’s not so much a beast–wolfish alone–it’s that blend of otherwordly creature that mesmerizes me. When I transform there is no sophistication, no purity to the shift. We are so different.”

“You’re of my line’s blood. You were made by a Grimshaw.”

“I know all that. The blood we share forced my allegiance to your family. That’s why…when you left I–”

“Do you think what I do here is because I fault you on your allegiance to Hirmes?”

Tallin shook his head. It was so much more complicated than that. “It’s not that. You and I–it was more. And now…” How did he come up with the right words? “You say you want to change and make us more civilized so that we can abide among humans. With Hirmes it was different. With you I want monogamy. It’s important in a way it never was before. I know it’s not possible, especially concerning the direness of the situation. And they’re in a position to force your hand in this.”

Emmanuel seemed to consider. “You realize without their loyalty there’s little chance I can succeed in my challenge. I need them at my back. Just as I need you at my side.”

“I know that.” Tallin was being a fool. He had no proper claim. He wasn’t even blood-born. He was rikochetji. These petty human jealousies had to stop or he could cost Emmanuel his life and the clan’s leadership position. “I’m a fool. It’s of no consequence.”

He was a mongrel and mongrels had no standing. They took the scraps that were offered and licked the hand that offered the choicest pieces of reward, even if it was followed by a kick to the ribs. Such had been the way with the Zhalazti and the riko. Such would be the way with Emmanuel.

He tipped his head to the side baring his bloodied throat. “Your will, Alpha. I’m yours to command.”

Emmanuel seemed to study him for long moments, his eyes went to the puncture marks on Tallin’s neck. “We are not a civilized race at heart, are we?” he said as he trailed his fingers through the blood, then brought them to his lips and painted them red. He leaned forward and kissed Tallin. The primal taste of Tallin’s blood melded them together. He pulled back. “You are not a mongrel in my eyes. You are my equal. Because I seek to be chief makes you no less.” He gripped Tallin’s head. “I have always loved you. I need their loyalty, their allegiance. The history of our kind leaves me no choice. But, Tallin, know this–you are mine in a way none of the rest can ever be. You are my mate. I left because of the depth of my emotions and my inability to deal with such strong passions. The beast would not rest when you were near. I couldn’t control it.”

He stroked the scarred side of Tallin’s face. “My lack of control almost killed you. I’m back to save our clan from a brute. I can’t allow my personal human feelings to sway what I must do to secure my pack. You brought me here; you knew what it would take to secure their commitment. We all make sacrifices for the well being of the clan. Tell me you didn’t accept our fate when you came for me.”

“Do what you must, Alpha. I’ll support you.” Emmanuel was right. This had to play out, and in order for Emmanuel to show a strong front he needed the intimate ties that bonding with these werevaria would give him. One by one he would claim his pack, and at one level Tallin had to respect that commitment.

He felt his beast rear. There was only one way to properly support his alpha. Slowly the shift consumed him. He howled. Emmanuel shifted much more quickly. And then they turned to face the others. The low rumble resembled the roll of thunder across the sky, growing louder and louder.

Emmanuel surged forward, fangs bared as he confronted Valmont, the first who would submit and swear allegiance.

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Writing Prompt

Here’s another holiday themed prompt. Step away from the hectic, grab a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, maybe a holiday cookie or two, and let your creative mind wander. Write anything, write something, just fill that sheet of paper, or computer screen with words.

I like to write with a “stream of consciousness” such as this. A computer screen feels like noise to me sometimes, it speaks of deadlines, of rushes, of have-to-get-this done. Whereas, a journal or a notebook, and a pen – fountain pen preferably, speak of my time, my corner, my quiet time, the intimacy of notebook and pen, mind uncluttered with daily needs and needs and wants. Just me, an image in my head, dialogue emerging, and the true flow of words on paper.

Have some fun.

Journal Writing Page mistletoemagic

mistletoe magic filled the winter forest…

Silver – an excerpt

Silver

“…intensely sexual… a story comprised of contradictions – justice/revenge, male/female, slave/master, human/machine, dominant/submissive, science/supernatural…”

#GLBT #scifantasy #intersex #erotic
Born to freedom. Molded into submission. Pleasure is her only weapon.

Silver, born female, is now an owned gender-mated trinex thanks to the edicts of the Politico Judicalati and time imprisoned at the Factorium. She must choose between her charismatic power-elite, secretive owner, Minister of Acquisitions & Antiquities, Lel Kesselbaum, and a seductive revolutionary, Entreus, a humanotic who tempts her with freedom.

Not all is as it seems–allies who may be traitors, lovers who are more than they appear. A power-mad government, a machine known as the Elite Logical Life Core that uses human intelligence for its knowledge source. The Factorium that acquires humans as research fodder for their experiments and then spits them out when they are of no further use. Sex used as a tool to unearth enemies and traitors, and intimately align allies. Love that is not simple, relationships that are dangerously complex. This is Silver’s highly-complex world.

One misstep in the fight for freedom could mean death for them all.

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EXCERPT

Minister Lel Kesselbaum was not where common masses would have expected a government minister to be. But most of the Politico nobility held interests far beyond their public duty to serve. He sat in the private office on the second floor of the exclusive Music Box Saloon, overlooking the dance floor below where six platforms replicated music boxes. A scantily clad dancer gyrated atop each one, the sound of light, tinkling music a strange, rather bizarre contrast to the dancers’ erotic undulations.

The Music Box catered to humanotic fetishists. Every employee was at least one percent robotized, several being as much as forty-nine percent, just shy of the slender fraction of a percentage that turned a human into possessable chattel under the laws of the current government. All employees of the Music Box were free citizens and had free choice insofar as it went— Lel made certain of it. They could choose to work at the saloon, or not. But, situations being what they were in Quentopolis, common citizens grappled for what steady work they could find. Working at the Music Box was better than starving in the workhouses. And Kesselbaum’s saloon offered a cleaner, more lucrative means of gainful employment than other sex trade work—or other limited, legal choices that involved harder, often dangerous labor at the various institutions and murky private establishments throughout the city.

Three of the dancers were female-fused humanotics, their names chosen to titillate the interest of the elite patrons. Tonight, Coral Doll was outfitted as a ballerina, Lily Lovely as a Politico Regulate, Candy Sweet as an educatory factor. Then there were the men, Lel’s particular addiction, which included Rod Ebony outfitted as an E.L.L.C. engineer, Dandy Sugar dressed as an earthy fire containment waterboy and Dick Daring rigged out in black leather equipment appropriate for a carriage team.

Each dancer also wore the delicate wire-net cap Lel had designed, allowing them to communicate with the patrons of the Music Box. The round, gleaming, black-and-white checkerboard tables placed around the perimeter of each platform contained small silver-plated communication horns that allowed patrons to listen to or speak to the dancer. A silver vacuum tube connected from the table to the base of the platform, allowing patrons to tip the dancers.

There was no touching of the dancers during public performance at the Music Box. But a patron could request private audience for a weighty additional fee.

As Lel watched, Ebony released the minuscule leather triangle barely covering his thick, rigid prick, apparently in response to a request from table fifteen. The ambassador seated at the table placed several gold coins into the tube that were then sucked into the locked box beneath Ebony’s platform. Ebony smiled at the man, thrust his hips and proceeded to masturbate in as lewd a fashion as he could manage.

Lel’s cock surged to a rock-hard bulge, pressing prominently against the front of his trousers. He was not one to deny himself the pleasures of the flesh, but in recent months, since the acquisition of his trinex, he’d found that his desire to receive service from any of the humanotics at the saloon had lessened. At some level he found that realization slightly troubling. He favored variety—or at least he had before her acquisition. For a man in his position, it was dangerous to focus his attentions on one sex chattel—both to his position in the Dominatae and to himself personally. Let alone to the chattel. By his nature, different than that of other Dominatae, Lel’s unusually voracious appetite and need for sufficient infusion of sexual energy was not conducive to confining himself to one chattel. He’d found in the past it was dangerous to their well-being.

Silver3_smComplicating his current state of affairs was the fact that Silver was still settled at the Factorium for her latest modifications. He found his domicilia uncomfortably silent without her presence. Thus, in her absence, he’d taken to spending more and more time at the saloon, watching his dancers—but in the end not actually playing with them. They could not satisfy his more refined tastes for a special brand of humanotic—one he had designed himself. All he could think of was his trinex and the feel of her tight passage wrapped around his dick. He forced the thought away. He was of the Dominatae, and sexual variety for his class was almost a law.

Silver’s modifications at the Factorium were taking longer than he’d expected, but he was assured the adjustments had been successful and that tomorrow she would be delivered to his residence.

A knock sounded on the door to his private office, and he turned away from the erotic scene acted out on the main floor.

 

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Read another excerpt from Silver

Writing Prompt

I hope the frenzy of this holiday season is still leaving some good writing time.

I’m an early morning person and often I’ll do my “stream of consciousness” writings first thing in the morning when all is quiet and everyone else is still asleep. Of course, for night people, it could be the opposite end of the day, after everyone has gone to bed.

Either way, take a break, empty your mind of holiday noise and holiday to-do lists, and free flow your way to a quiet corner with this six-word prompt with a bit of a holiday flavor to it. Just go where the words take you.

Journal Writing Page ornamentaldistraction

she was but an ornamental distraction…

Come Into My Parlor – an excerpt

Come Into My Parlor

( #erotica #darkromance #mystery #contemporary #MF)

Murder. Will he solve the crime or succumb to the widow’s seduction?

The murder victim had been discovered naked and handcuffed to a bed. Pandora Edwina Willmington was Detective Alex Johnson’s prime suspect. He was certain she was guilty as sin. Coming face to face with the beautiful, sensual suspect fueled far different thoughts than escorting the young, wealthy widow to jail.

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EXCERPT

He mounted the steps and rang the bell. As he waited for someone to answer the door, he turned around to survey the well-manicured grounds. Neatly trimmed shrubs bordered the circular drive; the fountain at the heart of the lush green lawn with the naked statue of Pan spouted a steady stream of clear, bubbling liquid. It was peaceful, serene even, but Alex sensed something about the place – an undercurrent of some sort. A click sounded behind him and he swiveled back toward the entrance.

He hid his surprise as the door was opened by a young, dusky-skinned man neatly dressed in tight black pants, black silk shirt, and shining leather boots. He was a head shorter than Alex’s six-foot frame and his dark eyes surveyed Alex with curiosity.

“Can I help you?” he asked with a hint of Latin shrouding the edges of his question.

Alex whipped out his badge and displayed it to him. He waited patiently while the man studied it, attempting to size him up, figure out his position in the household. He didn’t look like the typical butler for a place like this. A creature from an old monster movie would have fit in here perfectly. This guy, no. He belonged on a movie set, or maybe in a bull ring down in Spain. But he sure didn’t belong in this setting.

But then neither did Pandora Willmington, by his estimation, from all he’d heard about her.

He handed the badge back to Alex and stepped back from the door.

“Was Mrs. Willmington expecting you?” he asked as Alex stepped past him into the marble-floored foyer.

Damn, talk about opulent. He shifted around to face the young man who looked about half his age -maybe nineteen or twenty. “No, she’s not expecting me, but I have a few questions I’d like to ask her if she has time.” He whipped out his notebook and a pen. “By the way, what=s your name and who are you?”

“His name is Arturo and he’s my personal assistant, Detective,” a husky, sensual voice that reeked fuck-me, its effect floating downward landing somewhere in the vicinity of his groin, informed him.

If he’d been anyone else he probably would have swallowed his tongue and someone would have had to call for emergency assistance when he turned to look at the owner of that voice. He should have been prepared. He felt like he=d slammed into a brick wall, and his cock rose hard and fast to attention. Nothing could have prepared him for this hot number. Nothing on this planet.

This had to be the infamous Pandora Willmington. He smoothed his expression, attempted to gain control of his misplaced lust. Mine. It was something that shouldn’t have crossed through his mind. He might want her, more than he=d ever wanted anything in his life -but he couldn’t have her. Too bad if he could taste the want, the need to feel his cock burrowing deep into her cunt. He was here to do a job.

He couldn’t help stroking her with his eyes, and his thoughts. Blonde hair clung to the silk of a satin black robe with oriental markings that draped open revealing pale flesh only superficially hidden beneath a black lace camisole. Long legs, bare, creamy, and smooth, culminated in shapely feet encased in black satin four-inch stilettos. Crimson lips, wet, pouty, sensual, kissable, a half smile of invitation, and bedroom eyes the color of expensive whiskey. Way out of his league. He licked his lips, anticipating the taste of her on his tongue.

One slender hand rested at the curve of the banister where she hovered about mid-way up the sloping staircase. Once she was sure she had his full attention she floated down the remaining steps. Arturo hurried to the foot of the stairs and waited. He clasped her hand when she reached the last few steps and gallantly guided her down to the main floor. She stopped next to him, and Alex could see the nipples of her upthrust breasts vividly outlined, pressing against the silk. His cock throbbed painfully at the front of his pants.

She turned to Arturo and brushed against his side like a female cat in heat. One of her hands drifted around to curl possessively over the hard curve of his ass and Alex saw the muscles tighten beneath the thin black material. Arturo’s eyes smoldered and Alex could almost smell the smoke rising between the two of them. He felt like a voyeur witnessing the lustful exchange – and wanted to join in. Arturo raised her hand to his lips and placed a passionate kiss on her palm. Evidence of his arousal was more than prominently displayed against the front of his tight trousers.

Pandora raised a hand to stroke the side of his face. “Thank you, Arturo. You’re superb,” she purred. She turned to gaze at Alex through slitted eyes. “I’ll handle our guest from here.”

Alex was certain he saw a flicker of something in the young man=s eyes as he released her hand. “As you wish, Mrs. Willmington. If you need me, just ring.” He pivoted around, piercing Alex with a burning, hate-filled looked before he strode from the room.

Alex struggled to remember what he was here for and turned back to study the lethal woman that dripped sex. It was a surprise to him after all this time that his previously benumbed senses allowed him to respond so strongly. His ex-wife had done quite a number on him and he=d had a hard time evincing the least glimmer of interest in pursuing another relationship. Until today.

What role did Arturo really play in her life? Had he possibly resented the appearance of Korvanti? Had he been the one to kill him in a jealous rage? That young man harbored a lot of intense emotion below the surface. Or had he followed an order from the mistress of the house by disposing of a problem she wanted gone?

Something to think about. He filed it away.

 

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6-Word Writing Prompt

I’m on a winter and holiday kick so I’m sharing prompts usunandtree-6108sing words inspired by the time of year.

I like taking pictures of sunlight and mist. I like playing with aperture and speed, and a variety of different settings on my cameras. I also shoot in RAW as opposed to jpg format, providing more depth of color to work with in final processing. I like to work with a broad range of colors and light when taking photos, just as I like to work with a broad range of words and crafting sentences when I write. The more tools you have, the more you want to play and experiment.

I can get a bit creative with taking photos, just like when I write stories. I take a lot of liberties in both. Take Silver and the Humanotica series, or Nightingale, and spinning things on their head. I love to do that.

One of the reasons I enjoy writing the 6-word prompts is because it’s a finite set of words to invoke an image and/or emotional response. It challenges me, just as writing short blurbs for my stories challenges me to be succinct and evocative.

Moving on, here’s the latest 6-word prompt.

Journal Writing Page porcelainskin

porcelain skin, white as bleached fear…

Have at it. 🙂

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Excerpt from Blood for Blood (Zytarri) – Exam and Recognize Your Mate

Blood for Blood (a tale of Zytarri)

#futuristic #fantasy #vampires #aliens #erotic romance #science fiction #MF

The Past…

bloodforblood_med1Leora Saguna has become what her kind fear most—a blood huntress. Fueled by a lust for revenge for the assassination of her Alpha, she has violated every Sangorrian law to track the murderers down. And one day return to her infant daughter, Katriel.

Each time Noah Chisca watches his mark take macabre delight in her task, he is one dead bandit closer to earning the highest bounty of his career. Yet he can’t deny the desire that twists his gut. He takes her captive; she takes him as her mate.

The Present…

Katriel knows bonding with the mate her mother has chosen will ensure her future as heir. But the memory of the forbidden warrior monk who stole her heart haunts her, and she rebels.

Valyn’s identity is hidden until he’s proven himself worthy of Katriel. But fighting a deadly dragon is only the beginning of their nightmare, as sinister forces conspire to shake the foundations of Sangorrian society and unleash a reign of blood that may destroy them all.

Amazon Purchase Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BWP7QHP

 

EXCERPT

Leora again studied him silently for a long time. Slowly she rose to her feet and walked around the side of the desk. “Disrobe, please. I wish to confirm the replica was not altered concerning your suitability and lack of abnormalities.”

He had known this was coming. A part of him rebelled at being ordered to disrobe before her, but he raised his hands and unbuttoned the brown robe, allowing it to drop to the floor at his feet. He then returned to the stance of respect and waited, focusing his attention on the window just past where Noah stood.

Leora walked toward him. He felt her assessing gaze as it roved over him and refused to let it shake him or respond to it.

She slowly circuited him, apparently studying him from every angle. She stopped to examine the long slashing wound on his arm, seemed to assess each bruise and cut, categorizing every nuance of his body.

Finally, she halted in front of him and nodded. “Your wounds are a reflection of your bravery. It is my opinion that you are well-suited as a mate for my daughter. Your conduct and bravery have already shown you will be a good protector. You may …”

The door to her office burst open, interrupting her words.

“Mother, please …” a frantic feminine voice spoke from behind him, then stopped abruptly.

Valyn, unashamed of his nakedness, turned his head to see who was there and was shocked to find himself staring into the startled gaze of his soon-to-be mate. She was everything he had remembered, and more so. Her long dark hair fell in dishevelment about her face, her breasts heaved with agitation, and her pale pink lips were rounded in apparent shock. But what surprised him most was the dilated dark smoky depths of her eyes. Darkened with what could only be lust.

She had eyes for no one else in the room once she saw him standing there. He saw tears pool within their depths, the startled recognition. “What is your name?” she whispered hoarsely.

He turned toward her, and her mouth gaped wider; her eyes dilated more intensely, and he saw her hands clench at her side.

“My name is Valyn, Lady. I have come for you as I vowed I would.”

“Valyn,” she repeated. Her small pink tongue licked at her succulent lips, tears trailing down her face. He felt his cock take on a life of its own. “You have come. It is truly you? How can this be?”

“I made you a promise, and it has led me to this path.”

“Katri, you should not be here,” her mother protested.

Katriel turned to look at her mother with panicked, glazed eyes. “I need him, Mother. How you found him, I do not know, but I need him desperately.” She glanced back at him.

He took a step toward her and stopped, not wanting to frighten her. Instead, she stepped to where he waited. Valyn could smell her arousal as she neared him. He cupped her face and lowered his head. She closed her eyes and sighed as he dropped forward to capture her lips. Nothing and no one else in this room mattered. Only the woman who offered herself to him — the woman he had yearned for all these years, and for whom he had prepared himself to take.

Had anything ever tasted as sweet, and had any woman felt like such absolute bliss? Deepening the kiss, she opened to him, and he felt her hands inch upward along his bare chest, felt a sharp prick as her nails dug into his flesh. Ah, sweet pain. Unlike the ache of battle, this intensity of feeling was far different. He wanted more, needed to feel her fangs piercing him as he sank his cock into her pussy.

Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he tasted her, grazed against her petite incisor and tasted his own blood as it filled her mouth. As though galvanized, she sucked, then sucked harder, opened her eyes wide, staring at him as his lifeblood spilled into her. She curled closer to his body, her nails digging deeper into his chest.

Yes, oh gods, yes. If only we were alone. It was not true pain he felt but an aching need to claim her, to burrow his cock deep inside her hot, tight channel. He wanted to feel her pulsing around him, clasping him, wanted —

He lifted his head to gaze down at her. She moaned, her claws retracted from his chest, and she collapsed in his arms, her eyelids fluttering closed. He caught her and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the lounge chair he had seen upon entering the office.

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