Can love last an eternity? ‘Dracula’s Brides’ #Paranormal #Romance #EnchantedAnthologies @SDSXXTours

Dracula’s Brides
Presented by Enchanted Anthologies
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Enchanted Anthologies brings you a co-written paranormal romance
anthology based on Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

Centuries ago, Dracula found himself cursed at the hands of a witch after
murdering her family. Now, he is forced to live his days as a slave
to the sun, plagued with a constant thirst for blood, and an
immortality without love.
Crina was a farm girl in Romania who met Vlad shortly after he turned.
He fell in love with her innocence and kindness.
Emilia was a virgin who was stolen away from her family and fiance on the
eve of her wedding, captured by the count for her beauty.
Isabella was the last to turn at his hands. Her wit and intelligence
captured his heart.
Can love last an eternity?
Four Novellas intertwining the story of Dracula and his three brides.
LJC Fynn – Dracula
Alyssa Drake – Crina
Rita Delude – Emelia
K. L. Bone – Isabella

This anthology is intended for readers aged eighteen and over.
LJC Fynn was raised in a beautiful small town in South Carolina. She got lost
in the fictional world as a child, and that world stayed with her as she
became an adult. She loves nothing more than to create a setting to
share with the world. She has a supportive husband of fifteen years
and two children. She also co-writes with her sister under the name
A.L. Marchant.
Best-selling, award-winning author Alyssa Drake
has been creating stories since she could hold a pen, preferring to
construct her own bedtime tales instead of reading the titles in her
bookshelves. A multi-genre author, Alyssa currently writes Historical
romance, Paranormal/Urban Fantasy romance, Contemporary romance,
Horror/Thriller, and Dark romance. She thoroughly enjoys strong
heroines and often laughs aloud when imagining conversations between
her characters.
Alyssa graduated from the University of the Pacific, with a B.S. in business
and a concentration in French literature. Currently she resides in
Northern California with her blended family, where she works
full-time at a chocolate factory.
She believes everyone is motivated by love of someone or something. One
of her favorite diversions is fabricating stories about strangers
surrounding her on public transportation. Alyssa can often be found
madly scribbling notes on a train or daydreaming out the window as
the scenery whips past.
Rita Delude creates worlds with words, whether it’s an undiscovered planet, a
circus tent, a vampire’s cove, or a romantic getaway, that take
readers to eclectic places and experiences. She has published “Bully”
in Through Their Eyes Anthology, “Aftershock” in War Cry,
“Plum Secrets” in Madame Scarlet’s Carnival, “Vive
la Resistance in Deadly World: Vampires in Paris, and “Crazy
About Her” in Crazy About Love. Her first novella, Kaleidoscope,
releases February 15, 2018. Her novella Baby Blues releases August
15, 2018. She has been a newspaper journalist, magazine writer, and
college professor. Delude has a MFA in Writing. She lives in New
Hampshire, USA with her husband of forty-four years. They have four
married children and nine grandchildren.
K.L. Bone is the author of the Bestselling Black Rose Guard dark
fantasy series. The Rise of the Temple Gods fantasy series. And a
stand-alone sci-fi novel, The Indoctrination.
Bone has a master’s degree in modern literary cultures and is currently working
towards her PhD. She wrote her first short story at the age of
fifteen and grew up with an equally great love of both classical
literature and speculative fiction.
Bone has spent the last few years as a bit of a world traveler, living in California,
London, and most recently, Dublin. When not immersed in words of her
own creation or studies, you’ll find her traveling to mythical sites
and Game of Thrones filming locations.
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!
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I finally have another release out! ‘Enchanted by Him’ #Gay #Erotic #MCRomance @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to announce I have another story in my Helldorado Mongrels MC series out now: Enchanted by Him!

~ * ~ ABOUT THE BOOK ~ * ~

The timeline of Enchanted by Him overlaps the one set in the second book Seduced by Him. (The stories in the series can be read as standalones, but as with most series, it’s best if they’re read in order). In Enchanted by Him, we’re reintroduced to the character Sloth—the man Tex, from Seduced by Him, is forced to ride up to Las Vegas with.

We follow Sloth and learn why he splits off from Tex, we learn Sloth’s secret, and of course, we go on a journey with Sloth as he discovers his mate and falls in love. We also see what finally happens to Inferno, the leader of the Helldorado Mongrels MC.

Come be enchanted!

~ * ~ BLURB ~ * ~

Helldorado Mongrels MC member, Sloth, is a man with secrets. He’d joined the club with a specific goal in mind, and when three visitors arrive, he fears one of them will turn his world upside down. Especially since that newcomer is a witch and his mate.

Shaman, the medic from the Skinwalkers MC, was hired to find the woman after the Mongrels’s gold and has secrets himself. When he meets Sloth, the man he knows is destined for him, Shaman begins to reconsider his evil, witchy ways, and his internal conflict irritates him.

Despite the constant clashing of their differences, passion ignites between the two men. But will their secrets cause betrayal and hurt? Destroying their relationship before it even has a chance to fully develop? Or will love ultimately triumph?

~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~

As he sputtered and his eyes watered, he spun away from the invisible partition and ran into the tall medic. The cowboy hat was gone, showing that the man sported long, jet black hair, drawn back into a ponytail. Memories of what his imagination had conjured up earlier flooded his mind and sent his cock twitching again. He had to fight an irresistible urge to drop to his knees before the man, unzip his black jeans, and take his shaft into his mouth.

Shaman chuckled, and once Sloth’s gaze connected with the medic’s gray-eyed gaze, Shaman lifted the corner of his mouth in a mischievous grin.

Sloth sucked in a stream of air as the man’s compelling and magnetic gaze held tight to his. Under the intense stare, Sloth’s body crackled and his joints hissed. The tingly sensations and odd sounds made him realize Shaman was stripping away all his cloaking spells. He tried to combat the psychic assault. His own powers weakened as Shaman continued to stare at him. All he had left was the mind block he’d put in place, and even that felt tenuous.

He attempted to step back and found he couldn’t move. Shaman had “frozen” him into place. Sloth thanked the Great Spirit he hadn’t actually been turned into an ice pop. He hated wintery cold temperatures. On top of it all, without the magic that’d been surrounding him for so long, he felt completely bare and exposed.

Again, Shaman offered a short laugh, this time snapping his fingers as well.

Sloth’s clothes disappeared. Not a stitch of fabric remained on him. To his dismay, he truly was naked. And traitor that it was, his hard cock stood at attention.

Who needs mind reading when my erection gives my thoughts away?

The medic strolled around him, seeming to appraise him like a stud at market. The man swept his fingers and hand over Sloth’s arm, buttocks, and the dip created by his spine at the top of his ass crack, making approving murmurs as he did so. Shaman came to stand in front of him and stroked his hand down Sloth’s chest to his cock.

He didn’t know how it was possible he could be rendered into a state of statue-like material, but still be able to perceive each brush of Shaman’s fingers and palm, the nuances of the man’s gentle touches and lingering caresses. Sloth would have sighed and swooned had he been able to.

“You know, perhaps I won’t kill you and consume your powers.” The medic looked up from Sloth’s cock and stared at his face. He raised a brow. “I see the shock in your eyes. Your gaze gives away everything you’re thinking.” His tone dripped of disapproval. “I’m a true skinwalker. Do you think being a mate matters to one of my kind? We crave power. Always need more. Doesn’t matter who, what, where, when, or how we get it as long as we amass as much as possible.”

Dread filled Sloth. His mate had considered killing him? Murdering him for skills he could barely use anymore himself? He wished he could close his eyes, block out the sight of Shaman, and be able to focus on clearing his head.

So much for the fairy tale euphoria of meeting one’s true love, feeling that instant connection, knowing there’s no one else who would love him unconditionally, and having the insatiable need to be with that someone.

Instead, he had confusion, despair, and panic about being tied to someone who might kill him in his sleep. Yet, he still couldn’t help being super attracted to the witch and wanting to fuck him—hard and fast or slow and easy. Didn’t matter to him how. As long as they got inside each other. And the fact that he craved to be physical with the skinwalker scared him even more.

“But then,” Shaman continued, “the pull I feel toward you is inexplicable. The thought of you no longer walking the earth pains me in a way I’ve never felt before and worsens with the idea of my hand taking you from your mortal coil. No. I won’t kill you. I won’t consume your power. But I will demand having all of you—body, heart, and soul. The two of us will be greater together as a bonded couple rather than just me having all the fun causing havoc everywhere.” Shaman clucked Sloth under the chin.

“I smell your attraction to me,” the medic stated, sneaking a glance at Sloth’s penis. “I see it, too. Yet, I also smell your fear. We can’t have that. Amorcito, you need to trust me … love me. I’m more than happy to give you some time to wrap your head around all of this. Not a lot of time, mind you, but whatever decision you come to, know this, you will be mine.”

~ * ~ BUY BOOKS BY JACEY HOLBRAND ~ * ~

Evernight Publishing ## Amazon ## Barnes & Noble ## BookStrand ## iTunes ## Kobo ## Smashwords

~ * ~

Thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

Ever do something really, really dumb? ‘To My Muse’ #Contemporary #Romance #RomCom @YesItsNicolaC

Ever do something really, really dumb?

When too much tequila and an enabling BFF put Lily Nayar’s romance novel Feast of Lovers into the hands of its inspiration, sexy British actor Tom Morrison, Lily is horrified. Now she’s determined to get her book back, even if that means breaking into Tom’s hotel room to do it.

With the help of a strategic lie and a charismatic knight, Lily’s screwball plan catapults her into the middle of her very own Cinderella story, Hollywood style. But will a vengeful actress ruin Lily’s shot at a real life HEA with Tom?

  • Contemporary romance, romantic comedy, MF
  • Word Count: 67,000
  • Heat Level 2
  • Published By: Belaurient Press

Author’s Note

Hello, and thanks so much for having To My Muse on your blog today. If I’m being honest with everyone, the tagline for this book should be, “Loosely based on a kind of true story!”

Back in March 2017, I pinged the extremely talented, kind, and tolerant actor Louis Herthum on Twitter and told him that he’d helped to inspire my new dystopian SF romance novel Degree of Resistance with his performance in Westworld. This resulted in a brief but lovely chat, at the end of which I asked if he’d like a print copy of Degree. To my delight, he said yes and told me where to send the book. The next day I signed a spandy new copy to him, packaged it up, and mailed it off, happy as a clam.

Six hours later, I had a nervous breakdown.

See, since I write romance novels that tend towards the explicit side of things, sex scenes don’t shock me. They’re just another part of the plot, and not even the most interesting part a lot of the time. But I forget that civilians don’t always share that view, and I had just sent a perfectly nice stranger a book that had some rather hot (well, no—extremely hot) scenes in it. Worse, I’d told him that he had inspired the plot. I was belatedly but absolutely convinced that he would put two and two together and come up with, “Note to self—make sure this pervert never comes within 50 yards of me.”

Panicking, I called my friend T. As she tried to talk me down, pointing out that 1) Lou’s a guy, so it was highly unlikely that 2) he would read a romance novel, even one with heavy SF themes, and 3) would probably just stick it on a shelf as a nice piece of egoboo, I was busy coming up with an insane plan—I would fly to LA, break into his agent’s office, steal back the book, and nobody would be the wiser. Brilliant! It would work!

Why, yes, I’m a little neurotic when it comes to my writing, why do you ask?

Needless to say, I was talked out of this. But after I calmed down I did have to admit that it was a hell of a funny idea. And when I decided to try writing a contemporary romantic comedy, it popped back into my head and waved its little hands, saying, “Me! Use me!” Seeing as I’d already lost some of my sanity and a largish patch of stomach lining on the concept, I figured why not. To My Muse is the result.

By the way, this book? No sex. Lots of comedy and banter between my leads, but no sex. Yes, I’m shocked as well. But boy, it was a ball to write.


Excerpt

Giving Theresa a thumbs up, I closed the door and turned my attention to the hotel room. It had already been cleaned and the bed was neatly made. A suitcase sat on the valet stand next to the TV, and the dresser and desk held various pieces of paper, notes, and a couple of plastic shopping bags, all the usual stuff when you’re stuck in a hotel room for a couple of weeks.

Of course, the fangirl part of my brain was screeching like a gibbon at me that I was in Tom Morrison’s hotel room. He’d slept in that very bed last night. Sat at that desk to check his email and Facebook. Took a dump behind the closed door of what I assumed was the bathroom. The prosaic nature of that last bit helped me regain some self-control, and I tiptoed (why, I don’t know, I’m an idiot) over to the desk. There was what looked like a script for GearShifter on it, as well as a MacBook Pro, but no Feast of Lovers. Bad Tom, no leaving your expensive computer equipment out where people can steal it.

I wanted to leaf through the script so badly, but I ignored it and kept looking for Feast. Not on the desk top, not on the dresser, not on the TV. I was starting to worry that he’d taken it with him to the location when I noticed the suitcase. I truly, honestly hated the idea of going through his personal stuff, but he might have stuck it in there. I could just lift the lid, take a peek, maybe it was in plain sight—

I had the lid in hand when the bathroom door swung open and a tall, beautiful blonde in a towel strutted out. “I thought I heard you—” she purred, before she saw me. Both face and tone iced over. “Who the hell are you?”

I let out a noise that could have been used as a sound effect for a creaking vault door. The blonde stalked closer, looming over me. Up close, I could see some fine lines around her eyes, but she was still ridiculously gorgeous. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.

Oh. Oh, shit. My brain informed me that I was currently sharing a room with Claudine Ellery, the actress playing Tom’s antagonist/love interest on the show. What the hell was she doing in his bathroom? Were they dating in real life? Why was I asking stupid questions when I should be turning and running for my freaking life?

And then Fate decided that she needed an even bigger chuckle because the room door opened and Tom Morrison walked in. I caught a glimpse of an apologetic Theresa hovering in the hallway before she was eclipsed by Tom, who was staring at Claudine and me.

Oh, God. He was even better looking in person. Not all actors are, but Tom—he was edible. Curly black hair, eyes the color of dark chocolate, and lips that I’d wanted to kiss since the first time I saw him on screen. With faded jeans that fit him perfectly, a dusty white button-down with rolled up sleeves, just the right amount of chest hair peeping out of his collar, and the cutest smudge of dust across one laser-sharp cheekbone, he was every one of my fantasies come to warm, tall life right in front of me.

And I had broken into his hotel room.

That was it. I was going to jail, assuming that the cops didn’t just see “brown person” and shoot me when they got here. At the very least I’d get fired from Golden State. Mom and Dad would disown me, Dada and Dadi would die of shame, and Derek would probably take out an ad in the LA Times saying that I was adopted. My only hope was that Theresa had gotten the hell out of here. There was no reason for both of us to go down for my stupidity—

“Lilian, darling, what are you doing here?”

My brain skidded to a halt. Words had come out of Tom Morrison’s mouth. Friendly words. While he was staring directly at me. Looking, if I may say so, as if he was talking to someone he knew. Which he didn’t, because I may not have remembered sending him my book but I would definitely remember meeting him.

“Um. Hi?” I waved weakly.

“I thought you decided not to come out this weekend.” He crossed to me, slipping an arm around my shoulders as he stared at Claudine. He squeezed my shoulder once, kind of hard, then did it again.

Even with my brain in fangirl vapor lock I can take a hint. I had no idea how he knew who I was, but he wanted me to play along. Plastering a grin on my face, I slipped my arm around his waist and squeezed back. His torso felt like warm rock, and he smelled so good.

“Well, I figured I needed a road trip,” I extemporized, giving him a bright smile. “And I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Not at all, angel,” he purred. Up close, I could see a hint of relief in his eyes. It disappeared as he turned to Claudine. “Claud, why are you in my room wearing a towel?” he asked politely.

She planted hands on slim hips, cocking her head to the side. “Seriously? You have to ask why?”

“Yes, because if I remember correctly, I told you that I had no interest in going to bed with you. In fact, I’m quite sure I informed you of this on numerous occasions. And when I walk into my hotel room and see you wearing nothing but terrycloth while my girlfriend,” this time his squeeze was gentle, “is standing there looking gobsmacked, I have to wonder what the actual fuck you’re up to.”

My face went rigid as it tried to hold onto my smile. Girlfriend? Eeeeeeeee…


Where to Buy

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords | iTunes


About the Author

Nicola Cameron is an expatriate Chicagoan who has lived in England, Canada, Holland, and Sweden, and keeps a confusing amalgamation of languages in her head as a result. Currently located in the clavicle of Texas, she has finally mastered the proper use of “y’all,” much to her Chicago family’s dismay.

Despite a healthy interest in romance and sex since puberty, it wasn’t until 2012 that Nicola decided to try writing about it. As it turned out, the skills she picked up during her SF writing career transferred rather nicely to speculative romance. When not writing, she wrangles cats, smooches her husband, makes dolls of dubious and questionable identity, and thanks almighty Cthulhu that she doesn’t have to work for a major telecommunications company any more (because there’s BDSM, and then there’s just plain torture…).

 

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads

Get in, Get Out, Get Down & Dirty #Anthology #BlueCollar #Romance #Kindle #Nook #iBooks @romancerebels69

22 Brand New stories from some of your favorite contemporary romance authors and Romance Rebels Publishing. Available now!

Down & Dirty

~~~

Get in, get down…and get filthy with these sexy, hardworking, blue-collar heroes who don’t mind when things get a little dirty while at work or at play. This collection of 22 brand new stories from USA Today and International Best-Selling authors is full of scorching hot romance tales that will be sure to leave you breathless for more. These men work hard, and play even harder.

From cops to mechanics, and miners to brewmasters, they aren’t afraid to go all in. At the end of the day, when they find the woman who completes them, they learn that love and life can be just as messy as their day job…and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Featuring stories from: Lori King, Maia Dylan, Sarah Marsh, Elena Kincaid, Cecile Tellier, London Saint James, Bella Settara, Rose Nickol, RL Merrill, Ashley Malkin, Lucy Felthouse, Scarlett J. Rose, Sydney Lea, CR Moss, Samantha A. Cole, Danielle James, Ava Campbell, Eva Moore, Kimberlie L. Faye, Sabrina Sol, Nikki Prince, and Mia Hopkins!

~~~

~ * ~ BUY ~ * ~

Amazon ## Barnes & Noble ## iTunes ## Kobo

~ * ~

Thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

that was all Beckett would give her ‘Nothing in My Heart’ by Peri Elizabeth Scott #Erotic #Romance @evernightpub


Blurb:

Feeling trapped into marriage, Beckett Kilmer doesn’t hide
his disdain for his young wife, although he certainly wants her physically.
Grace didn’t deliberately trap the man she loves, but
ignorance is no defense, neither in a court of law nor the law according to
Beckett.
When she loses their baby, he is kind and supportive but
remains distant. Grace despairs, also trapped—but by the skeins of love that
bind her.
Mysteriously finding herself capable of resisting him, she
plans to assert her independence when Beckett comes to his senses, recognizing
his reprehensible behavior. He strives to make amends and convince Grace to
reconsider.
Still determined to leave, she then finds out she is
pregnant again and Beckett redoubles his efforts to repair their relationship.
Can Grace find it within herself to forgive and trust him again?
Excerpt:
Beckett’s big form blanketed her far smaller one as he
increased his thrusts, driving her toward that cliff of mindless insensibility
her orgasms always conferred. He braced his weight on his forearms, head tucked
into her throat, lips tight against the sensitive juncture of neck and
shoulder.
He’d slipped into bed, naked and urgently erect,
stripping off her nightgown with a muttered imprecation before bestowing a hard
kiss that caused her to open to him, his mastery of her senses chasing away the
last vestiges of sleep.
Her body instantly responded, the flush of arousal
dampening her core, nipples tightening with desire as his big hands cupped and
molded her breasts. There was no need for additional foreplay although he
tested her readiness with a finger before settling between her thighs and
entering her.
It was a vastly familiar, nightly routine, one she
desperately anticipated—to her shame—and their coupling tonight should have culminated the same way. With a climax, the
sensation giving her the connection she craved, however fleeting, because that was all Beckett would give her.

About the Author:
Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada. She closed her part-time
private practice as a social worker and child play therapist and now pretends
to work well with her husband in their seasonal business.
Writing for years, along with her alter ego and three coauthors, she has
published over 52 novels and reads most everything she can lay her hands on.

may bring it all together or destroy everything ‘Spice & Vanilla’ #Gay #BDSM @KatherineWyvern @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Katherine Wyvern and her story Spice & Vanilla!

~ * ~ BIO ~ * ~

Katherine is a gipsy soul who lived in Italy, Norway, Germany, France and Spain but mostly in some private universe of her own. She still lives a nomad life between Dordogne and Catalonia, with a tipi as a home and her boots and a horse as only means of transport.

She’s worked as a printer, a welder and a gardener, and been writing since she can remember, mostly poetry, fantasy and erotica, sometimes mixed together in weird ways.

Nowadays, when not busy with walking, horse-whispering or dream-weaving, she is usually painting, embroidering or working her backbone off in the pastures.

~ * ~ STALK ~ * ~

Website ## Blog ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Instagram

~ * ~ A WORD FROM KATHERINE WYVERN ~ * ~

Hello, and thank you so much for having me here today to talk about my new release, Spice & Vanilla. This is the darker, naughtier sister of my previous release, Woman as a Foreign Language, but it can be read as a complete stand alone.

The BDSM element in Spice and Vanilla came about in part because I had just finished reading Katerina Ross’ beautiful novel Tenderly Wicked, so I was in the mood for something a bit spicier than my previous release, and partly because I had this idea for Raphael, the main character, that he would be “in two minds about anything”. He’s gender-fluid, bisexual, and as it turns out, a switch (he is in fact the sort of character that can piss off absolutely every reader on earth, lol).

I always like sex scenes to carry some of the character building in my stories. I think sex is one of the most visceral things we do in life, and the way we have sex with different people and different sex with the same people at different times can say a lot about us, about our feelings for our partners and where we are in a relationship. You can put so much more than smut in a sex scene (although a good amount of smut is most welcome), and when you stray into BDSM that potential for character exploration rises tenfold, because there are so many more layers to it. Why do we feel the need, in a caring, loving relationship, for giving or receiving pain? Why do power and humiliation become a turn on, even a necessity, at certain times? And can these things add more to our relationships than just a passing kinky thrill? Can they possibly become a way to express feelings we don’t have words for? I do not pretend to have full answers to these questions, but I did enjoy searching for them in the company of such complex characters as Raphael and Hugh.

~ * ~ BLURB ~ * ~

Time was, when Di could dance all night. Time was, when she could ride any horse in the stable. Time was when she had a fiancée, a future and a home she loved. Until a silver SUV came out of nowhere and broke her life in half.

Well concealed under a sarcastic, spiny hide, Hugh has a darkly romantic, passionate soul. Torn between love and terror, he’s held the talented, elegant, magnetic Raphael carefully at arm’s length since the day they met.

Male or female, men or women, kinky or sweet, top or bottom? Angel or devil? Raphael’s life is a string of unanswered questions. And Lucie, his long-hidden female self, may bring it all together or destroy everything he has.

Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys

~ * ~ EXCERPT ~ * ~

Hugh watched him stroking away with great contentment. He was totally worn out after a crazy day at work, and it was not always easy to find the energy to satisfy such an enthusiastic masochist. There were days when he wished Raphael were a bit less fond of being spanked and whipped, but he always did his best to oblige him. The thought of his Raphael going out there looking for release from God-only-knows-whom, and getting hurt for real by some less scrupulous or talented Dom was just unbearable. Still, tonight he would lie back and relax. Mostly. I will have to help him eventually, he thought with a slightly evil grin, but I can take a breather first.

Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact.

It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this.

Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty.

This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.

Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts.

Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.

Tick—tock—tick—tock.

He slowly unfolded his hands and moved to sit between Raphael’s legs. He spit on his middle finger and watched Raphael’s face, half hopeful, half anxious, as he slowly approached his anus. He didn’t hurry. He let Raphael wait for it. He would beg, in time, Hugh knew, but there was no need for that, not yet. He finally pressed his fingertip to the twitching, tight, live rose of flesh and felt it jolt and spasm. He massaged it in circles, with relish, and didn’t even try to penetrate it. Raphael was shaking all over, trying to press down on his finger, but there was just so far he could stretch, tied as he was. His belly muscles went taut. They were contracting in random, jerky convulsions. Hugh had never seen anything so beautiful.

Then Raphael missed a beat. His hand had picked up pace, ignoring all orders. Raphael whimpered, trying to compensate to get back in the right tempo. The double change of pace made him squirm all over. He swallowed twice and missed the beat again. This time Hugh slapped the inside of his thigh, very hard. Raphael could take a long regular series of well-spaced blows with relative ease, but a single hard slap coming down out of the blue like that drew a ragged cry from him.

“You do know what tempo means, I asked?” Hugh said, in a plain chatty voice. He had never had any taste whatsoever for histrionics. He was not, he had never been, a theatrical Dom. He wasn’t in it for setting up a show. He just got the job done.

“Yes. Yes!” said Raphael, a bit frantic. He managed to stick to the rhythm for a minute longer, until Hugh gently stuck his finger just within the ring of his anus. All of Raphael’s body twisted, and he lost all track of the cold, mechanical rhythm of the metronome.

And that is exactly what you need, my love. Too much playing by the rules, too much fucking control. You need to find your own tempo, and just let go.

Five or six fast hard strokes followed. Hugh slapped him twice, on his thigh, and, when he turned suddenly, on his butt. And then Raphael came, on the third slap, as he flopped flat on his back again, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both. It was hard to tell. Semen spurted out in beautiful, long, arched white streamers, splattering over Raphael’s belly, chest, and even his face.

It is difficult to aim while being spanked hard.

Hugh watched him coming, avidly.

He was so naked. So vulnerable, so unguarded. Hugh, who felt, every day, that he might shatter like glass, on Raphael’s unearthly, impossibly graceful, self-possessed beauty, lived for these moments, to watch him released of all self-consciousness and all bonds. Strange, how it took a bunch of leather straps to get him to do that.

“Ah, oh, shit. That hurt,” Raphael whispered after a minute. “Not complaining, mind,” he added, with a small edgy laugh, wiping some drops of sperm from his lips and eyebrow.

“Good,” said Hugh, quite composed, despite the erection straining in his pants. Watching Raphael twitching and jolting while covered in glistening semen was not a sight to leave him unmoved. He reached out for the metronome, stopped it and lowered the weight a tad, then started it again.

This was a faster, business-like tempo.

“There you go, hot lips,” he said to Raphael, who was still breathing hard from his orgasm.

“What? Wh—but…”

Hugh gave him a small devilish smile. Raphael was perfectly capable of coming two or three times in one night, but, like most men, he needed a while to recuperate in between. Well, tonight, he wasn’t getting it.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, here.

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Katherine Wyvern, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

transported into outer space where he becomes a pawn ‘I Should Have Been a Rock Star’ #SciFi #Fantasy @JohnKaniecki @SDSXXTours

I Should Have Been a Rock Star
by John Kaniecki
Genre: SciFi Fantasy
“What happens when Don ‘Hypo’ Colandri mysteriously disappears from
Edward’s University on his way to a Statics exam? Why his three
roommates lie outright claiming he was kidnapped by a Satanic cult,
all to get money and score with chicks. Don, however, has been
mysteriously transported into outer space where he becomes a pawn of
one Nellie Watt against the Time Lords in a cosmic game being run by
God. Unfortunately for Myron, Slick and Psycho, (Don’s three former
roommates) they have dived into a realm where fools tread. Hilda
Thethia, a practicing Satanist, learns of the ruse and quickly begins
to blackmail the trio. Sadly Myron, Slick and Psycho realize that the
followers of Satan are more wide spread than they could have ever
imagined and none are too happy at having the name of their Dark Lord
besmirched. Meanwhile poor Don is learning the ropes of outer space
in a very hard way. Every mystery he solves only brings more
questions. Will Nellie Watt succeed in her contest against the Time
Lords and go to the Twinkling of Twilights to press the Reset Button?
Will Myron, Slick and Psycho manage to escape from the miserable maze
they created? And most important of all, Why didn’t YOU become a
rock star?
John Kaniecki was born in Brooklyn, New York. Though having no memories of
life there, John is proud to be called a Native New Yorker. John was
raised in Pequanock Township, New Jersey. At age twenty John was
baptized and became a member of the Church of Christ. Presently John
resides in Montclair, NJ and lives with his wife of over twelve years
Sylvia. The happy couple attend the Church of Christ at Chancellor
Avenue in Newark, NJ. John is very active in outreach and teaching as
part of the leadership of the congregation.
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