Excerpt from Vampires of Noctra: Blood Bounty

Vampires of Noctra: Blood Bounty

#MM #pirates #bdsm #historical #vampires #darkfantasy #erotichorror #gayerotica

VON1_BloodBounty_smA vampire with a raging thirst for human blood and erotic pleasure; a man with a secret mission to find and destroy the undead. But lusty midnight passions defy logic. Boundaries and duty hold no sway on the decks of the Night Stalker.

Captain Dontè Lucienne is the vampire captain of the Night Stalker. His crew is human. Men who serve the vampires of Noctra, providing sustenance, as well as loyalty. They are fighters as well as lovers, and devoted to their vampire masters. They would destroy any who tried to kill their captain.

Skye Templeton is a man on a dangerous mission. Plucked from the swelling seas by the crew of the Night Stalker, he’s exactly where he needs to be. Will he come out alive? Or end up as fodder to the lust of the vampirate captain? His duty is clear—at least until he come to know this lusty crew and their magnetic captain. Until he comes under the supernatural, relentless spell of the Night Stalker.

EXCERPT

Donté stroked his tongue over Vasily’s bulging pecs, tugged on a nipple, chewing at it lightly. Vasily’s cries crescendoed and dropped, rose again and again, like surging waves lapping at the hull of the Night Stalker. Needy, in delirium, far removed from reality.

Donté’s fangs sank into the supple muscle of Vasily’s chest and the young man cried out, spurting his seed into Donté’s hand. The vampire supped on his youthful, vibrant lifeblood, his cock still buried in Vasily’s ass.

Extracting his fangs, Donté swirled his tongue over the puncture marks, leaving faint red indentations in his wake. He studied Vasily’s chest, admiring the tracks decorated across his warm human flesh. Every sailor in the vampire captain’s crew sported the vampire piercings upon their skin, each crew member having been personally handpicked by either Donté or Donté’s vampire sire, Captain Sterling Savoir, to serve as members of their respective crews.

Human, well-mannered, beautiful young men, all committed to serving the vampire masters of Noctra Island.

Donté traced the piercings, listened to the thundering heartbeat, the shallow breaths of his lover for the night. This was the second time he’d fed from Vasily in less than a fortnight and he would savor tonight. The young man’s blood was too rich, too addictive. If Donté fed from him once more before the next full moon, he was likely to draw the young man too close to the crossover. He dared not take the chance.

Easing his still hard cock from inside Vasily, Donté lifted from the bed and walked over to the table. It was early yet, hardly a stroke after midnight, and he planned to savor his young sailor until the first misty fingers of dawn cut through the night. At the rate Donté was going Vasily might not last if Donté didn’t slow down. Sips only, no more than a pint of Vasily’s blood or he’d push him too close to the edge. Donté poured some of the finely aged French burgundy into a goblet.

He took a moment to glance up, pinning the other bound man on the opposite side of the room beneath a hard stare.

“Do you see what you’re missing?” Not quite all of his crew were as well-mannered as he liked. “You could have been where he is, Velvet, if you hadn’t disobeyed my command.”

Velvet, a gunner’s mate of unique precision and fortitude, was stretched out, hands manacled high above his head, his hard cock and heavy balls harnessed, a lead weight swinging with each surge of the ship, two more weights tugged at his distended tits.

Velvet was as beautiful as any of the men on the ship, and most of the time he listened to orders. Tonight called for discipline in Velvet’s case. A hair trigger temper requiring a strong hand, he’d been less than humble, so certain he’d be the one to entertain the captain tonight. Well, Velvet was entertaining the master all right, but not in the way the rebellious young sailor expected.

Donté would not tolerate jealousy, or assumption, among his crew. The captain treated all of his mates equally and he would not have any of them attempting to usurp his authority and causing dissension on the ship. One day, Velvet would learn his place. Or else spend more time on the wall than in the captain’s bed.

Donté sauntered over to Velvet and trailed his cool fingertips over the man’s sweat-soaked chest. He hefted one of the weights in the palm of his hand and then allowed it to drop away. Velvet’s long drawn out hiss as it dragged against a tit satisfied Donté that the action reminded the man of his unhappy state.

Dropping forward, Donté razed his sharp teeth over Velvet’s flesh. Lines of red tracked his path. But he didn’t sink them into Velvet’s flesh. He didn’t feed.

“Please, Master, I’m sorry for what I did. I’ll never do it again.”

“I wish I believed you, Velvet. But this isn’t the first time, is it? Not even the second. You’re smart enough to make first gunner, but your temper and lack of self-control are your downfall. Be thankful I didn’t turn you over to Margan and have him assign you to the bilge pump tonight—wallowing in stinking water for a night might teach you a lesson. That might have been a more fitting punishment. We’ll see what a night of discipline on my wall will do for your manners.”

Donté swung away, ignoring the pleading look in the beautiful sailor’s whiskey-colored eyes. Swift discipline and heavy bondage was the only thing Velvet understood. For at least a short time. Sterling handled this one with a firmer hand. Sterling would have had him strapped to the main mast, a discipline wedge shoved up his ass, and a hundred lashes to stripe his back. Donté’s master, Savoir was a much sterner taskmaster when it came to discipline. Unfortunately, Sterling and the Black Star hadn’t been due to leave Noctra for another month and, as usual, this beautiful gunner had gotten Donté to agree to take him on. Velvet’s blood was some of the richest among the human residents of Noctra, and his skill with the cannon exceeded by few. If only his temperament better aligned with his name, they all would be much happier.

Yet both Sterling and Donté liked a challenge now and then, which is why Velvet was allowed to remain. Velvet might be a bit of a scallywag in many ways, but he was just too luscious to exile…or kill. Donté walked over to the big white cat lying on a stretch of crimson and cream Persian rug in a corner of the room. He leaned down to pet the huge Bengal outcast.

“You’ll keep him in line, won’t you? Too bad he doesn’t have your understanding of self-preservation.” The snow-white, almost totally stripeless tiger leaned into the stroke of the vampire. Few animals on the mainland accepted the touch of a vampire. But Khan was different—he was as cursed as any vampire, and his connection to the vampire was unique.

Donté turned his attention back to Vasily still stretched out on the bed, eyes closed. Picking up the goblet, Donté moved back to his lusty donor for the evening. Gently lifting Vasily’s head, he tipped the goblet and allowed some of the wine to trickle into his mouth.

Vasily’s eyelids fluttered opened and he gulped at the wine until the goblet was empty.

“That’s better, sweeting. The color is returning to your face. Are you feeling more yourself?”

Donté set the goblet on the nightstand and picked up the wet cloth from the mauve-colored porcelain basin and bathed Vasily’s stomach and flaccid penis. Returning the cloth to the bowl, he leaned toward Vasily and pressed his lips to the young man’s mouth. Vasily’s lips parted and Donté thrust his tongue deep inside. The rattle of the chains binding Vasily to the bed bled through the needy moans as the sexy young sailor shifted and arched, begging for his master’s touch. Donté heard a whimper from the other side of the room. Then a deep, warning growl from Khan. Donté ignored Velvet. There would be time enough to decide what to do about him later. For now, he was simply a decoration on his wall, reminded of his place by Khan.

“Would you like something to eat before we continue?”

Vasily gazed up at him with worshipful eyes. “Whatever you want, Captain.”

Donté couldn’t help smiling. Vasily was a good boy and very respectful. A week of serving on the Night Stalker and Vasily had no qualms about turning his back on his past life. Of offering his blood and service to the Noctra vampires.

Donté rose and stepped to the table at the center of the room where a tray of food rested. He didn’t partake, but he had to maintain the strength of his two human lovers. He picked up a thick slice of bread and a small wedge of cheese and returned to the bed. He hand-fed Vasily slowly, punctuating each serving with drugging kisses in between until his sweet supplicant finished the bread and cheese. By then, Vasily’s cock was thick and hard, bobbing against his flat abdomen. Yes, he was revived and appeared more than ready to serve his master once more.

Donté picked up the oil to prepare Vasily’s passage once again. A snarl curled his lip when a knock sounded at the door. Donté glared at the root of his irritation. Who dared to interrupt? Swift punishment would be exacted for the defiance of his standing orders…unless it was an emergency. He set down the bottle of oil to the side and rose from the bed.

“Enter,” he roared with the force of a fierce gale. After a moment of hesitation, the door slowly opened. It was Jupiter, his first mate, who edged his way into the cabin. He looked straight at the captain, neither sliding a sidelong glance toward Velvet, nor toward the bed where Vasily, his second mate, was stretched out.

“Permission to speak, Cap’n.”

Donté waved a hand in the air. “What is it? This better be important.”

“We’ve spied someone in the water, sir. The men are about to bring him on board. I thought you’d want to be informed.”

All of Donté’s crew had preternatural eyesight—one of the dark gifts of human service to the vampires of Noctra. Although the black sloop skimmed through the ocean in the dead of night, it might as well have been daylight for their sharp eyesight.

“Does he look promising?” Donté dressed quickly, donning a pair of black breeches and then pulling on a white linen shirt.

“Hard to tell, sir. He was a ways out. Margan send two men out to retrieve him. Looks to be a survivor from another downed ship.”

Was there any other kind this far out to sea? Most of Donté’s crew were survivors from sacrifices to the dangerous, unpredictable seas. Many on the very verge of drowning or being eaten alive by hungry sharks, or worse. Men who’d been thankful for the captain’s beneficence in saving them from a fate far worse than their untimely death in the surging waters.

There’d been a storm the previous night, which might cause a ship to founder. Donté straightened after pulling on the second black leather thigh-high boot.

“Have Liam see to my men, Jupiter.” He glanced over at Velvet. “Leave him for another hour and then release him. In the meantime, take gentle care of Vasily. I’ve fed well and he may be light-headed. I don’t want him up and around before he’s recovered.”

Jupiter nodded. “Yes, Cap’n.”

Donté returned to the bed, leaned down, and kissed Vasily. “Another night, sweeting.” Then he strode out of the cabin, along the passage and headed to the main deck.

As Donté stepped onto the deck Margan and Onyx hauled a very bedraggled man onto the deck with help from several of the sailors. The stranger collapsed against the railing, salt water splashing onto the deck. It was hard to tell much about him considering the exhausted state of the man, but from first glance he certainly looked…intriguing.

The crew made way for the captain to get through. Several of the men held torches, providing a soft glow of light. Donté nudged the half-drowned man with the point of his well-polished black boot. The eyelids of the young man splayed out on the deck fluttered opened. What stunning blue eyes, was Donté first thought. Clear and sparkling like the sea, framed with long sooty lashes. Yes, definitely worth an interrupted hour of his time.

The young man staring up at Donté looked shaken, yet alert.

“What’s your name, lad?”

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Pandemonia: Combustible – Discounted 65% Today

Pandemonia: Combustible will be available on Amazon at a 65% discounted price – February 18th – gete it for only .99!

Combustible (Pandemonia)

(#MM, #futuristic, #dystopian, #erotic romance, #BDSM)

Combustible_smEarth of 4035 is a wasteland populated with sectors of penal colonies, seeded through the generations by its life-long inhabitants of criminals, lunatics, political prisoners, and DNA-spliced mutants, all ruled by a powerful conglomerate of scientific researchers called the Nucleate.

One such sector, Pandemonia, is situated on the former European continent in the vicinity of Paris, now a hunting ground of a world gone horribly awry.

Drayce Eth, of dragogen-spliced DNA creation, rules one quandrant of Old Paris with a strong hand. He has never mated, never taken a long-term lover, and has always denied the instincts of his dragogen-spliced DNA. But then he encounters an attractive disciple and slave of his arch-enemy, Dr. Francois Beljon, and a simple game of poke-the-bear to relieve his ennui may just result in more than Drayce ever expected. It may also be exactly what he needs when his mating instincts are aroused by this least likely of potential mates.

Crispen Wills is a product of the mean streets. He’s a survivor—a dancer, a liar, a scavenger, and whatever else will serve to keep him alive. But when he becomes a desirable pawn in a treacherous game, it could easily cost him his life. What Crispen never expects is to fall in love with the powerful dragogen that his master has sent him to destroy.

Passions mix with danger in a highly flammable game devoid of rules and safe words, where all’s fair in love, lust…and death. Only a fool would dare to risk everything for a fleeting chance at love, especially when that lover could easily barbecue you should you make one false step.

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Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079674H85

Currently a #kindleunlimited selection

Read an excerpt

The Erotic Imagination of a Twisted Fantasy Writer

Silver3_smThat’s me. Yes, it is. Maybe it’s you, too. And we’re not alone.

I had an idea. Or maybe it’s that statement that started with what if? How many times do you hear that from an author?

That’s indeed how Silver and the whole world of Humanotica was created. I didn’t know the characters when I started writing the first scene that popped into my head. I was free writing and didn’t worry about genres, or correctness, or anything but the characters playing out the scene. I saw an intriguing figure – part man, part woman, but…there was more. Another day passed, and another scene popped into my head.  I saw the man who “owned” her. And at first I thought he was the villain.  I wrote another scene, and then another. And suddenly I saw the layers to my villain-hero. And I became intrigued, and challenged. And even more excited about the strange alliance/attraction that sprung up between these individuals in a world of fetishes and exotic modifications. A world of complex people with complex motives. And then another character popped onto the scene, further complicating relationships. And I couldn’t not write this story.

Would it sell?  I couldn’t worry about it. Would people like it or think I totally lost my mind? Couldn’t worry about that either. I love world building, I love reaching for the impossible,  I love wondering about what ifs. I like delving into emotions and attractions and complicated personalities. I want to take someone you should hate and reshape them. I want to take someone you might pity and fashion their strengths through those very flaws that look to defeat them. I want to take that alpha and drop him or her to their knees. I want to take a beta and give her or him strong depth and a keen intelligence and perspective you might not expect. I want to create a romance out of the unexpected.

I want to take a city and turn it on its ear, display sexual dominance and experimentation as an art form and negotiating tool ruled over by a class of nobility known as the Dominatae who polish and hone their lifestyle into a fine edge of flawless perfection and darkest power.  I want to blend male and female, human and machine, spiritual and earthly.

And then I want to create and play with the machines of that world.  In Quentopolis you will find the huge underground life source, the  Elite Logical Life Core, the heart and brain of the city. Or the intellometer that allows its creator to divine the workings of the mind through patterns punched onto gold Politico-issued punch cards, offering intimate insight. And don’t forget the musicadium that records music, mating it with emotion using divinely erotic stimulation.

Meet the Quentopians, the Orictian warriors, the Faunfolk, the Malefici Carnaliad sorcerers. Fight against the Politicos along side the Metallitionist Resistance Fighters who seek freedom for the humanotics. Have a drink at the Music Box Saloon that offers the best in festish humanotic entertainment. There’s more, so much more to be discovered in Quentopolis.

Enter this city at your own risk. And that’s about how I’d describe my mind as well.  Risky, twisted, and always conniving, never completely at rest. Worlds are fashioned and formed a piece at a time. I slide the pieces together, sometimes reshape a piece here or there. I wait for revelation and a-ha moments, and reshape some more. I listen, and I listen some more. It’s a big world – a living world – and there’s a lot more to come.

Now, back into your cave, writer. The whip cracks and I feel the sting of creativity flick keenly across my senses. Back, I say, into that complex world, to the twisted muse that ever calls Haevyn_smfor more. And I must obey.

 

Humanotica 1: Silver , and the sequel, Haevyn are now available.

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Pandemonia: Combustible – an excerpt

Pandemonia: Combustible

(#MM, #futuristic, #dystopian, #menage #erotic romance, #BDSM)

combustible_medEarth of 4035 is a wasteland populated with sectors of penal colonies, seeded through the generations by its life-long inhabitants of criminals, lunatics, political prisoners, and DNA-spliced mutants, all ruled by a powerful conglomerate of scientific researchers called the Nucleate.

One such sector, Pandemonia, is situated on the former European continent in the vicinity of Paris, now a hunting ground of a world gone horribly awry.

Drayce Eth, of dragogen-spliced DNA creation, rules one quandrant of Old Paris with a strong hand. He has never mated, never taken a long-term lover, and has always denied the instincts of his dragogen-spliced DNA. But then he encounters an attractive disciple and slave of his arch-enemy, Dr. Francois Beljon, and a simple game of poke-the-bear to relieve his ennui may just result in more than Drayce ever expected. It may also be exactly what he needs when his mating instincts are aroused by this least likely of potential mates.

Crispen Wills is a product of the mean streets. He’s a survivor—a dancer, a liar, a scavenger, and whatever else will serve to keep him alive. But when he becomes a desirable pawn in a treacherous game, it could easily cost him his life. What Crispen never expects is to fall in love with the powerful dragogen that his master has sent him to destroy.

Passions mix with danger in a highly flammable game devoid of rules and safe words, where all’s fair in love, lust…and death. Only a fool would dare to risk everything for a fleeting chance at love, especially when that lover could easily barbecue you should you make one false step.

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079674H85

 

EXCERPT

“Have Ion send the boy to me after his performance tonight. Let’s see if we can squeeze any more information out of him than he’s deigned to share thus far. Any tidbit we can discern about the running of the cathedral gives us ammunition for future consideration.”

“I can have Taylor beat it out of him,” Zadrian suggested.

Ever since the loss of his lover, Zadrian had become even more bloodthirsty in his tactics. Sometimes he took some reining in. His canine nature was beginning to consume his humazoid side. It had been over a year since he’d lost Jazz to the Nucleate. He had to repair himself. He needed a new focus.

“Zadrian, reel it in. I said not yet. Just send the whelp to me.”

Zadrian saluted. “As you command, boss.”

“Fuck you,” Drayce responded.

Zadrian grinned, exposing his sharp teeth, but the amusement never entered his eyes. It never did these days. “Hell, you want him, you might as well take him. That is what you want, isn’t it? You want to fuck him. That’s why you’re dragging your spikes on this one. Shall I tell Ion to deliver him with a bottle of barbecue sauce?”

Drayce ignored the last taunt. Sometimes Zadrian overstepped. But then the captain had been around a long time. There was no point in lying. Zadrian would see right through that and think less of him for doing it.

“What I want and what I’ll take are two different things entirely. You know that. The whelp is here for one reason.”

“Do you really think Beljon will barter for his return? Beljon has no concern for human life. He’ll just replace this one with another. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll just kill or use it for experimentation. And then destroy it when it goes bad.”

Drayce glared at Zadrian. “Jazz again.”

And now there was emotion in Zadrian’s eyes. Pain flared and Drayce heard the low rumbling growl in his throat.

“We almost lost you as well, if you’ll recall, when they went after him to get to you. That’s all that was about—getting to you. They would have killed him anyway. He was never strong enough to survive here. Even with you protecting him.”

“Fine. But you should remember as well. The weak ones don’t survive long. The whelp is a pretty little thing, but he can’t last long. Use him up, entertain yourself, but I wouldn’t recommend getting attached. He won’t survive either.”

If he was truly weak as he pretended to be, Drayce would agree. But Drayce had watched Crispen these last nights, and Crispen was far from weak. In fact, there was an undercurrent about him that told Drayce above all else, he was a survivor. A devious sort of survivor. Not at all what he appeared. And only a strong, steady hand could bring him to heel. But Drayce didn’t have the time to take on a pet. And Zadrian was right about one thing. In their world, pets didn’t really survive very long. There were traitors in every sector, and the Rouge was no exception. And it was the weak ones on whom they preyed.

Zadrian stared back at him, neither man relenting, nor looking away. In another man, Drayce would have considered it a challenge to be met and the upper hand forced. But then, as though knowing he had to be first, Zadrian looked away. He nodded. “All right, Drayce. Have it your way. But we can’t wait forever. We’ll only look weak. We’re going to have to do something. Toy with it and then finish this thing.”

“I’m not felinogen in that respect. Just remember that. I don’t toy without a purpose. You just be careful it’s not strictly revenge you’re after, and you lose your head and your life because of it.”

Zadrian stared at him with a bleak look. “I lost my life a year ago, Drayce. There really isn’t much left for me to lose. Beljon made his point very clearly.” He spun about and stalked out the door.

Drayce felt for the man. He’d lost his mate, and the DNA in Zadrian’s blood probably wouldn’t let him accept another, at least not easily. It was the way the caninogens were marked. One life, one mate. Dragogens, on the other hand, had no problem keeping a herd full of amusements. Like felinogens in some ways, they were fond of dominating multiple partners. Maybe he was too much like Beljon, and that was a truly distasteful thought. Or maybe Beljon had a bit of dragogen DNA in his make-up. Yeah, that was a much more palatable thought.

Drayce hadn’t built a herd of his own. That sort of thing made a man vulnerable in a place like this. Instead, with running an establishment like the Rouge, he had a plentiful supply of dancers who came and went in his bed when he felt a particular itch, flitting in and out as he wanted. Which is why he couldn’t figure out why he was so fixated on this whelp. He didn’t need him, but damned if he didn’t want him. Far more than he should.

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Eternity (the wedding) – an excerpt

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Blurb:

(#erotichorror #vampires #darkromance #MF #MMF #MMM #BDSM #darkfantasy)

In the end he begged to serve the demonic vampire who made him. Maximilian Wolffe was unwillingly turned vampire in 1570. A brutal master should always beware of what he creates.

He claimed her as his servitess. In 1872 Venice, Max and Claudio hunt the streets of Venice. What Max finds is not what he expects–a woman to equal his passion. He claims her and then one day, abandons her. To save her. The memory of his vampiress may be the only thing that saves him from the beast within.

And now he’s back to claim what is his.

EXCERPT:

“To our future, cara.”

She swallowed the sparkling liquid. Max took her in his arms, kissed her and then picked her up and carried her to the bed where Achille awaited.

“You will be the first,” she said as she looked up at Max. “You will claim my virginity in this as you have claimed my blood.”

He looked down at her, his pupils dark chasms growing wider and deeper. And she felt herself falling. She wished he were as easy to read for her as she apparently was for him.

He turned his gaze to Achille. “Unlace her dress,” he commanded. He turned back to Lena, then lowered his head to kiss her. Kisses that were drugging and had her gasping for breath, her body burning. Up until this moment he had made love to her in every conceivable way except one, stopping just shy of breaching her virginal barrier.

The bed shifted as Achille climbed onto it and started to unlace her dress. It drooped down her shoulders. It was Max’s hands that went to the hooks on the front of her corset and released them one by one and tossed it away. Achille removed the bustle and petticoats. Max pulled the chemise over her head, then Achille removed the pins from her hair, allowing a cloud of dark brown curls to spill over her shoulders.

Max slowly removed her stockings, carefully rolling them down her legs. Achille placed kisses along her bare shoulders. Extending one of her arms, he trailed kisses along her forearm, pressed a heated kiss to the sensitive crease at her elbow and down along her wrists. It was Max’s cool lips at the soles of her feet, across the top. Separating her thighs, he kissed his way along her calf, over her vulnerable tendon, sucking each toe into his mouth.

Achille kissed each fingertip. Turning her hand palm up, he spent a considerable amount of time licking across the sensitive flesh, then sucking on first her index finger and then her middle finger.

She shuddered at the exquisite sensations that ran through her from head to toe as these men fondled her, petted her, drove her passion higher and higher.

The two men took a long time undressing her, worshiping each inch of her body. She didn’t know where Max’s clothing had gone, but the next thing she realized he was naked.

Achille sat behind her, bracing her, his large hands cupped her breasts, kneading the engorged, rounded globes. Max had something in his hands and she wasn’t quite certain what they were. Black pearls swung from the ends of what looked like tiny sharp jaws, yet they were different.

Achille cupped one breast from beneath. With his other hand he elongated her nipple She sucked in a breath at the sharp pain that shot to her womb. Her dark nipple stood out prominently, the rosy color deepening. She gasped as Max bonded the pearl to the hard bead.

“Made especially for you, my dear,” Max murmured.

Once the pearls were fastened, Achille smoothed his dark fingers around the areola and the rival sensations that attacked her burned her right through to her core.

She arched up as the pinching sensation altered and became molten lava that poured through her to pool in her vagina. Her breathing grew shallow even as Achille continued to stroke the globes of her engorged flesh. Several times he stopped and flicked a pearl, sending more exquisite sensations coursing through her body.

Max widened her thighs; her labia lips parted. The dark curls covering her mound glistened with her juices beneath the candlelight. Max leaned forward to press a kiss to her clitoris and then licked between her lips. She melted as his tongue swiped over her slit, jumped when he flicked a tongue over her sensitive clitoris. Her reaction was immediate. Her climax powerful.

She had hardly recovered when he fitted himself between her thighs, his cock poised at her opening, the head slipping inside, her body opened to receive him. He rocked slowly against her, shallow thrusts, carefully deepening an inch more each time as he allowed her body to become accustomed to his size.

She rocked against him. Achille’s hands were still on her breasts; the small pearls bobbed. Through her delirium she saw Max look at Achille and nod.

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Talent Scout – an excerpt

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BLURB

(#MMM #vampires #darkfantasy #BDSM #erotichorror)

Two vampires hunt for entertainment-and dinner-on a dark, seductive night. Yum-yum… Vampire blood games require a unique sort of “talent scout.” Claud plays front man for the powerful Silas, ferreting out tasty treats to satisfy the ancient master he adores. And Silas likes to add a special twist to their blood hunts. But it’s not all games, since Claud knows his days as Silas’s lover could be numbered if he fails in his task, and he loves Silas too much to take a chance on failing him. Now, Claud locates tonight’s main dish–a young, handsome hustler named Jimmie. Will Claud’s choice of human playmate “live up” to Silas’s expectations and provide an evening of adventurous, entertaining passion, the vampire way?

EXCERPT:

I entered the darkness of the compartment, the rhythmic rumbling of the train beneath my feet as it winged its way along the tracks. I thought it was taking me home, but in fact, it was leading me to a place far more exciting. Silas turned to look at me from across the small compartment. I know it was small, but in that moment as his hypnotic gaze attached to mine, it seemed far larger.

“Close the door,” he said softly, although I did not see his lips move, it seemed I heard him inside my mind. It was a request I could not refuse.

Once the door was fastened, I remember hearing the snick of a lock and vaguely wondered how it had been accomplished, because I certainly hadn’t been the one to engage it.

Before I could blink, he was on me, spinning me, pressing his lips to mine, driving me back against the door. My mind was a blur, my cock hard as rock, and I could feel his granite length against me as he molded me to him.

I couldn’t catch my breath, nor did I want to as I sucked him inside me. He was pushing at my jacket and then ripping at my shirt, baring my chest, securing my arms above my head.

“Will you be mine, Claud? Only mine?” he whispered into my ear, then nipped the cusp. I felt a trickle of blood slide down my ear. It never even crossed my mind to be curious as to how he knew my name. Nor in the heat of that instant did it matter.

He looked down at me as I stood imprisoned by my own clothing and his bottomless black gaze. I slowly nodded. I remember his smile, the glow in his black eyes that now seemed so very red, so very bright in the dusky, humid closeness of that cabin.

I say he looked down because at that moment he seemed to have grown much larger, dominating me completely. “Then you’re mine, boy. Tonight you belong to me.”

I couldn’t utter a sound. It was as though my vocal chords had been cut off. I felt myself falling, drifting into darkness, and I was only partially aware of what was happening, yet helpless to stop it. Even if I had wanted to.

I felt my eyelids drift closed and my head dropped to the side exposing my neck, and in a sense I was offering myself to him. I no longer felt the coldness of his skin, only the heat of my need to be taken by him.

I felt his wet mouth at my neck, his teeth scored across my skin, down my chest, and settled at a peaked nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth.

I never felt so consumed before as his mouth traveled over my body. I was in a hypnotic trance, a puppet awaiting the commands of the master puppeteer. Something locked my hands above my head, drew me up so my feet no longer touched the floor. I dangled there like a hunter’s prize buck ready to be flayed and dressed. And I loved it. I loved the sense of helplessness. I was so hot and hard I couldn’t stand it.

“Open your eyes, boy, and look at me.”

Slowly my lids raised and I gazed into his glowing eyes. I should have felt fear at what I saw there, but it was far from fear what I felt. Far from it. My heart beat faster. I was mesmerized.

“Do you want me to possess you? You must tell me. I must hear the words.”

Were there any words beyond yes? None that were in my vocabulary at this moment.

“Take me, Silas. Fuck me. Let me suck you. Do anything you want to me.”

I saw the smile reach the corner of his lips, his eyes glowed brighter, casting a red aura across my dangling body. His eyes were glittering black diamonds shaded with crimson–a light that seemed to shine from within, remote and bottomless, and I felt myself falling into them. Dizziness swept through me and I felt the world spinning around me, faster and faster. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. This forceful man held me within his grip and was free to do anything he wanted to me. With my permission.

I swayed with the motion of the train, my arms stretched out, my wrists bound above me. Silas undid my trousers and shoved them down my legs. The brisk air assaulted the heat of my body. He touched me, stroked me, drove my lust higher and higher. Somehow my clothes were gone and I hung there, naked.

Red leather straps appeared just above my knees. Straps with rings. A leather collar gripped my throat, chains dangling. I couldn’t begin to fathom how the bindings had gotten there. I didn’t care. He lifted first one leg, pushed it back, drew the chain behind my back, then bound my leg in place and then he bound the other in the same manner, opening and stretching me. My cock bobbed and swayed with the motion of the train. My weight, bearing down upon my bound arms, was painful.

“Very nice, Claud. Very nice indeed. Do you still want to give yourself to me?”

I could feel the stretch on my thighs, the freedom of my cock, the constriction of the leather restraints. My heartbeat quickened. The pain in my bound arms was almost more than I could stand. Each sway of the train bore down on me. I wasn’t certain how much more I could take. I so wanted to come. I wanted him to touch me, to stroke me. To fuck me.

“Yes, Silas. Do it.”

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Blood Bounty – an Excerpt

A vampire with a raging thirst for human blood and erotic pleasure; a man with a secret mission to find and destroy the undead. But lusty midnight passions defy logic, while boundaries and duty hold no sway on the decks of the Night Stalker. Captain Dontè Lucienne is the vampire captain of the Night Stalker. His crew is human, men who serve the vampires of Noctra, providing sustenance, as well as loyalty. They are fighters as well as lovers, and devoted to their vampire masters. They would destroy any who tried to kill their captain. Skye Templeton is a man on a dangerous mission. Plucked from the swelling seas by the crew of the Night Stalker, he’s exactly where he needs to be. Will he come out alive, or end up as fodder to the lust of the vampirate captain? His duty is clear, at least until he comes to know this licentious crew and their magnetic leader…until he comes under the supernatural, relentless spell of the Night Stalker.

EXCERPT

“Why?” he asked Skye, pointing to the blood and hair-encrusted axe.

Skye shrugged. “It seemed the thing to do at the time.”

“Do you know what they are? What they were?”

This time when Skye looked at Donté, the vampire captain saw confusion swirling within the blueness of his pupils. “No. I-I thought–”

VON1_BloodBounty_smAh, revelation swept through Donté. “The axe was for me, wasn’t it?”

Skye looked him square in the eye. “I thought you meant to kill all those people. You’re a vampire, what else was I supposed to think?”

“My reputation. They all think the vampires of Noctra sail the seas in search of victims to gorge our thirst. Isn’t that right?” Skye’s hands tightened around the axe handle.

“What else are we supposed to think? Vampires trail a heavy reputation of killing in order to appease their hunger.”
Donté started at him for a long time. His instincts told him Skye had been sent here to kill him. So why did he hesitate to have done with Templeton right this minute?

He nodded to the axe. “Well, here you are. And here I am. So why don’t you finish the deed you’ve come here to do?”

“How do you know I was sent to kill you?”

Donté shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

“What happened to the others?”

Donté looked back across to the other ship. “A few are now part of my crew. The others,” he looked down at the water. “A few have found everlasting peace or hell, depending on your perspective.”

“You’re a vampire. You have everlasting life.”

Donté watched as Skye swung the axe from his shoulder and dropped it to the deck. Donté looked down at the discarded weapon and almost felt a twinge of regret. What he wouldn’t give to have all of this done and over with. There was so little he found pleasure in any more. So many lovers dead, so many of his crew sacrificed. He felt the first heat of dawn’s fingers against his neck. All he had to do was remain on deck and it would be over with once and for all. He looked at Skye.

“You could have killed me tonight. My focus was on the undead on the ship. My men might have thought it an accident in the surge of bloodlust and they would have let you go.”

“Yes. That’s true.”

“So, why didn’t you?” He was curious to know the young man’s answer. There was something that intrigued him about Skye Templeton. This was a strong, intelligent man, rather unlike the rest of his crew. Most of them had spent their lives following the orders of others. But not this one. He definitely felt a strong attraction for the man–and it was more than his blood. Yet, his attention was drawn to the purple vein pulsing in Skye’s neck.

“I won’t become part of your food stores, Captain.”

Donté’s attention refocused on Skye’s face. “Do you think I need another?” He swept an arm in a semi-circle. “I have a crew of men more than eager to quench my thirst. Willingly. Do you think I need you?”

There was something indefinable in Skye’s expression. Donté’s attention turned to his mouth. Templeton meant to hold himself apart from the rest of his crew. But there was an element of desire and yet defiance in the way he held himself. A flagrant challenge to the vampire captain to force the young man’s submission.

“You will yield to me. Eventually.”

Those beautiful lips curved into a smile. A tongue slipped out to wet the elegant fullness. Suddenly, Donté swooped forward and possessed them, curling a hand tightly into the long blond locks. Taking what he wanted, tasting the sweetness of strong defiance in the young merchant’s kiss.

Skye pressed forward, off-balancing the vampire, pressing advantage, forcing Donté against the rail, as he took control of the passionate kiss. He thrust his tongue between Donté’s lips; his determined hands cupped the vampire’s cheeks, facing down the danger of such a predatory master.

If Donté had a heart that beat, it would have drum rolled a fast and furious pace as desire roared for Skye Templeton. He pulled free from Skye’s lips and stumbled away. He put the weakness that consumed him down to weariness from the night’s battle.

Donté slid his tongue over his lower, engorged lip and felt a trickle of blood and wiped it away.

“You challenge what you have no understanding of,” he said. He fought the desire to have this human in his bed right this minute. Bound to it, supping from him at his leisure. Or hanging on his wall, the bite of metal binding him in Donté’s presence. There was something in Skye Templeton, something so different and so desirable. So forbidden.

“I’ll give you what you need, my captain, all in good time.”

“Your blood?”

Skye smiled. But it was a strange look of mastery to the expression. “Your marks will never mar my flesh, Donté Lucienne. But perhaps my marks will decorate yours.”

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