Damaged Beauties

HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO TO UNCOVER A SECRET?

Pretty and hard-nosed investigative journalist, Virginia Tremont, has talked her editor into giving her an assignment - to find out what happened to her former teenage celebrity crush, who suddenly and mysteriously disappeared from the public eye ten years ago.

Virginia discovers that he now goes by the name of Ethan Greene. He is holed up in a mansion on a hill where strange things have been rumored to happen. Curiosity-seeking teenagers have been spooked. Young women have disappeared. Ethan himself is a recluse and is almost never seen.

Virginia engineers herself to be swept up in the strikingly handsome Ethan's world, where nothing is as it seems. Then there are the troubling entries in Ethan's diary: "He was here again. He wants to kill me. Take over this house completely."

Too late, Virginia finds herself falling for him, and he for her. But has Virginia put herself in the path of a danger she has totally unforeseen?

At 20,000 words, DAMAGED BEAUTIES is the first volume in the 'ROMANCED BY THE DAMAGED MILLIONAIRE' BDSM erotic romance series.

Excerpt:

We are both seemingly mesmerized by each other. Until I hear the clearing of someone's throat.

"Sir, please allow me to introduce Ms. Tremont to you."

I glance at Jeffrey, who is carrying yet another one of his endless trays, in the doorway leading to the kitchen, presumably. I stand up. My chair is pushed back by my knees.

David Kinney's spell is broken.

"I'm sorry," he says. His voice is the one I heard earlier downstairs. He walks to me, holding out his hand. "I'm Ethan Greene. I'm not used to having visitors."

"So I heard." I shake it. Our palms touch, and a delicious shiver travels down my spine. "I'm Virginia Tremont."

I will my hand not to tremble. I can't help but gaze into his large green eyes, which have captivated millions on the screen. Those very eyes which have rendered so many teenagers weak-kneed and trembling when he played the tortured vampire in Paradise Revisited.

"How are you feeling, Ms. Tremont?"

Feeling? Gad, does he know that my blood is running warm and cold all over my body? Can he tell from the temperature of my skin?

But of course, he's asking about the accident.

I laugh. It sounds a little too shrill for my liking. "Much better, thanks to Jeffrey."

"So I heard," he says, not taking his eyes off me. Do I dare say it, but there's a hunger in his gaze. A rapaciousness, as if the sight of me is an oasis after his long trek through the desert.

He goes to the back of my chair and pulls it out for me. "Please, sit. I'm glad you're able to join me for dinner tonight."

I'm amazed that his manners are impeccable. I sit, warmth suffusing my cheeks. I wonder if I'm blushing.

He has even dressed up for dinner, as though he's trying to impress me. He wears a cashmere jacket over a grey silk shirt. His clothes are tailor-made and expensive. They fit him like a glove.

Jeffrey serves whatever it is on his tray. I barely register what I'm eating. Oh, did I mention Jeffrey's cooking is excellent? I'm certainly not doing it justice tonight. My head is too busy whirling in the kaleidoscope of current events. And I believe I've completely forgotten to play damsel in post-traumatic head wound distress.

I have to be very careful not to let Ethan Greene know I'm a reporter . . . or that I know who he used to be. There's a time and place for everything, and if I play my cards too soon, he will recede. But I must say that I'm having trouble reconciling this polite, sophisticated man with the tortured scribblings I found in his journal.

Then again, the night is still young.

A Xmas Gift: The Sperm Donor

Here's one for the holidays, and it's set in London! I was in London a couple of weeks ago, so I was inspired to write this.

Now at a special holiday price of 99 cents!

Elise Ratner knows what she wants for Christmas (a sperm donor) and what she doesn't want (a husband). And who better to cater to her needs than her former high school boyfriend, the gorgeous and genetically superior Justin Morgan?

Such a pity he doesn't know it yet.

There are several catches though: Justin is in London, his career is at a peak, and he's dating his boss's daughter - a highly-strung, emotionally needy individual who commands Justin's full attention.

But Elise and Justin are not prepared for the sparks that fly when they meet again after twelve years. Will Justin be up to the task of donating his sperm to Elise at the fertility clinic, or would they both prefer him to do a direct deposit?

This is a 26,000 word erotic romance short novel.

EXCERPT:

The sandwich café is crowded with the lunchtime throng, but they have managed to secure a half-cleaned table at the back. Not exactly the best place for conversation, but she senses that he takes comfort from the familiar surroundings. After all, she did drop quite a bomb.

"So why didn't you get married?" he asks.

He's ready to talk, she senses it.

"I did get married."

He puts down his half-eaten sandwich. She is aware of several women at the other tables giving them surreptitious glances. They're checking him out, she thinks with a smile. Same old, same old. Some things never changed from high school. She was checking him out plenty too before they got it on.

"You never invited me to the wedding," he says, keeping his tone light.

She sighs inwardly. He's hurt, and she knows him all too well. He did always have a predilection for masking how he felt. Justin grew up in a strict home. His father was in the military, and he always gave precise instructions to his boys to 'handle it like a man'.

"It was a shotgun affair. Reno."

"He knocked you up?" he says, surprised.

"Not exactly." She shudders when she thinks of her marriage, but now is not the time to let Justin in on what happened. "It lasted for exactly a year and a half. Let's keep it at that."

He nods. He has always been one who respects other people's privacy. She has always admired this trait of his.

"No kids?"

"Obviously."

"Thought I'd ask, just in case."

"What about you? Married?" She knows he's not, and that's why she's here.

"No."

'Girlfriend?"

He hesitates before saying, "Maybe."

"Maybe?" She laughs. "Either you have a girlfriend or you don't."

"It's complicated. Let's leave it at that." He smiles without really smiling.

She ponders this. "So . . . would she mind if you . . . contributed your DNA?"

"I didn't say I was going to do it. It is a huge responsibility."

"Oh no, it isn't. Not for you." She delves into her bag and brings out a bound document. "Read through this and put your mind at ease."

He scrutinizes the document carefully as she finishes the rest of her sandwich. He finally puts it down and looks up at her. She finds herself admiring his large hazel eyes again - so penetrating and beautiful.

"So why me?" he says. "Why not some anonymous donor from a sperm bank?"

Punished by the Dictator's Daughter

The deranged dictator's daughter, Aimelie Potchenko, is playing a cunning psychological game. She intends to keep Gina's boyfriend, Max, prisoner forever. But in doing so, she will throw Gina and her good friend, Greg, together in a series of bizarre sexual situations where they have no choice but to confront their secret attraction to each other.

Frightened by Aimelie's threat to keep them in Ursk forever, Gina decides to escape with her friends. But can she trust the people around her, or is she walking into a deadly trap?

This 11700 word BDSM novelette is the third volume of 'The Initiation 3' series. 'The Initiation 1' and 'The Initiation 2' have been in the Amazon US Top 2 Erotica and Top 30 Romance bestseller charts. The series has sold well over 85,000 copies.

Excerpt:

The guards make me squat against the far wall from the bed, where I have a good view of Aimelie's ass bouncing on top of my boyfriend's well-muscled hips. They release by chains and make me hold my arms horizontally at my sides. They disengage the lariat, but still keep the iron collar around my neck as a mark of servitude.

Aimelie half-turns and says something to the guards. They nod gleefully.

As I stay still, the guards drag a box filled with saucers towards me. They don't have to tell me not to move a muscle when they start piling the plates upon my arms, shoulders, and strained and bent thighs. I have basically become a human smorgasbord. The saucers are delicate. I recognize the hallmark of extremely fine china beneath the rose patterned design, and it goes to say that I am forbidden to drop any of them.

"Break one, and I will have you severely whipped," Aimelie says, still in that teenage singsong voice of hers. Is it just me, or has her English improved? And it has just been one week of practicing periodically to Max, I suppose, when their language is not colored by 'fuck' or 'suck' or 'lick'.

"Aimelie, please," Max says. I can see the desperation on his flushed face. "Don't hurt her. I'll do anything you want."

"You are already doing anything I tell you to. Do not try to bargain with me for her hide. It does not become you. Back in America, you were lovers. But here, you are mine." She says that last with a feverish possessiveness that sends alarm bells ringing in my head.

I am afraid to breathe. My thighs already bear the strain of squatting. My pussy is wet and exposed. My arms tremble slightly, and I rue the fact that I scarcely have had the time to tone them. They are weak and ill-suited for duress. The iron collar is heavy around my neck.

But that is not all Aimelie has in store for me.

200,000 sales! Thank you, dear readers!

I have reached my 200,000th sale! Thank you, dear readers, for making this possible!!

Hugs! I hope I can continue to write stories that will entertain you and make you feel.

Shackled by the Dictator (The Initiation 3, Volume 2)

To all my Erotic Romance readers:

I'm never sure if it's a good idea to send you an alert through the Mailing List on the availability of a pure erotica novelette. So a warning is in order here. This is hardcore EROTICA. Although there are romantic elements in it, the hardcore BDSM elements take precedence.

After being purchased as sex slaves by dictator Vladimir Potchenko, Gina, Max and Greg land on his hidden European nation of Ursk - a land of horrifying secrets. But nothing has prepared them for how vast Potchenko's power is . . . or how this will impact them.

Then Potchenko reveals his pretty but deranged daughter. A daughter who immediately decides that Max is hers to keep - never mind that he is contractually bound to be freed in a month . . . or that he is Gina's boyfriend.

This 11500 word BDSM novelette is the second volume of 'The Initiation 3' series. 'The Initiation 1' and 'The Initiation 2' have been in the Amazon US Top 2 Erotica and Top 30 Romance bestseller charts. The series has sold well over 80,000 copies.

OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES

THE INITIATION: Open Your Legs for Me, Blindfolded and Spread-eagled, Thighs Wide Apart, Teacher, Please Spread my Pussy, The Final Initiation, The Initiation: A Bundle of 5 Stories

THE INITIATION 2: Open Your Legs for my Family, Bend Over for my Family, Publicly Display Yourself for Me, Sex Slave at Sea, Paraded before the Billionaires, Sex Slave at the Auction 

THE INITIATION 3: Sex Slave to the Dictator, Shackled by the Dictator (NEW!)

Excerpt:

Two clown grooms drag me to a silver apparatus that comprises of two horizontal bars - one above the other. Greg is being similarly brought toward us.

"Greg!" I cry in relief.

"Thank God you're OK," he says as soon as he approaches, breaking out into a wide smile. His shining eyes hold complicated emotions. Emotions I'm not ready to acknowledge or face . . . as yet.

Mansk says, "Is this one your boyfriend?"

I say, "No, it's the other one. The blond. Max."

Mansk nods to the clowns and says something in Urskan. Then he turns to me. "Everything is correct. String them both up."

He moves away without as much as a backward glance.

At first, I am bewildered. The grooms/clowns/whatever grab my arms and upend me as if I'm a ragdoll. My balance is completely disrupted. My hair shivers and trails to the floor like seaweed. Rough hands grab the flesh of my thighs, my legs, brushing against my pussy and buttocks interminably. The groom before me squeezes them. His painted face leers very close to mine - so close that I can smell the fruity, chemical paste of his gaudy makeup.

Hands grab my ankles and tie them with ropes to one of the horizontal bars. I'm in a precarious position - wrong side up and secured to the flimsy bar by only my feet at either end of the silver rod. My arms are left free.

Someone pinches my clit, and a spool of cream unearths from the recesses of my pussy. Because I am upside down, it pools at the mouth of my cervix.

My grooms are certainly taking liberties with my body, unlike so many of the grooms who have attended to me back in America - including Greg. Fingers prize open my pussy lips, stroke my clit, worm themselves 'accidentally' into my holes. Pincer grips tweak my nipples. Hands slide into my clefts. My juices begin to pool and pool, because I am excited despite my apprehension . . . or maybe because of it.

I desperately long to be fucked. I can sense it - this hollowness permeating my vagina, spreading all the way to my anus. I long to be fucked in both holes - invaded and penetrated so wonderfully and deeply that I can almost feel the towers of flesh inside me right now.

What is happening to me? Am I turning into a nymphomaniac in any circumstance - even one fraught with uncertainty and danger?

When they have finished with me, I feel like an acrobat. A bound acrobat. My pussy is a pink flower - just begging to be played with and despoiled.

Amazon! Finally!

It's available here!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009XECBQ0

His Indecent Revelations

This novella is already out on Nook, Smashwords and ARE, but has been stuck 'In Review' status at Amazon for the past 3 days. So sorry, but I already sent an email to Amazon to rectify this. I am not the only one in this boat, apparently.

This is the emotional finale to The Bound and Shackled to the Billionaire series. I had fun writing it. I hope you will be moved by the Epilogue.

THE BARNES AND NOBLE TOP 25 and AMAZON EROTICA TOP 50 SERIES CONTINUES!

Susan Chalmers and her billionaire lover, Channing Crawford, are now prisoners of Channing’s ex-girlfriend, Alia.

Alia’s fury over the past knows no bounds as she tortures Channing and secretes Susan to a citadel in Baghdad. And now the endgame looms. Channing will have to make a terrible choice: the woman he loves . . . or the lives of the people he is responsible for.

At 14,000 words, HIS INDECENT REVELATIONS is the final volume in the ‘BOUND AND SHACKLED TO THE BILLIONAIRE’ BDSM erotic romance series.


READ AN EXCERPT

That night, they lie in each other’s arms, unable to sleep.

“You think they’re going to kill me?” Susan says. Her head is on Channing’s chest.

“I don’t think so.”

“Liar.”

“I don’t think Alia would let you die. She’s not the type. She thinks you’re kindred spirits. You share a common bond. That is, you’ve both been majorly fucked by me, and I don’t mean it in a positive way.”

“So why am I here?”

“As a pawn to keep me in check before they kill me.” His tone is a matter-of-fact.

She realizes he has come to accept that he is going to die.

“I don’t think she’ll kill you,” she whispers, stroking his chest. “She still loves you. I can feel it. As a woman, I know these things.”

He is silent, but his heartbeat thuds erratically.

“Permanent imprisonment isn’t on my bucket list of things to do either,” he says.

“Channing . . . I love you.” It seems as though she has loved him forever.

He lifts a tendril of her hair.

“I love you too,” he says hesitantly.

She tenses and holds her breath. This is the first time he has ever said it to her.

“But I’m afraid to jinx you by saying it too often,” he adds. “So don’t expect me to say it again until . . . unless we get out of here.”

His eyes are shining the dim light of the flickering lamp on their bedside table.

“It’s all right. You said it . . . and that’s all that matters,” she says.

Tears come to her eyes and her heart expands with sudden emotion. She has always wondered why folks made such a big do about those three little words, and now she understands. They are monumental. They represent anything and everything that has happened in their relationship, and for it to come to this pivotal moment . . . well, it’s as good a time as any to say them.

She clasps his body to hers, and he does likewise. They hold each other like this for a long, long time, gazing into each other’s eyes, studying each other’s faces and thinking about what might ensue tomorrow.

About what may never be.

After a while, he says, “You want to try again?”

She knows what he refers to. Do you want to try to make love again? Because we may never get the chance . . . again.