Unexpected – Full short story – now free to you


As my gift to my loyal readers and fans…. The short story, Unexpected (Originally published by Shara Azod and edited by Katerina Knights) is now yours free to say Happy Halloween!

Enjoy!

Arnold Edinborough wrote, “Curiosity is the very basis of education and if you tell me that curiosity killed the cat, I say only that the cat died nobly.”
Well, Dinah Jacobs was thinking she was about to be one dead cat. The footsteps were coming closer. Hiding under a desk in her neighbor’s home, she knew she’d ventured into the wrong house. She didn’t even know what had possessed her to scale his seven-foot wooden fence into the man’s yard, let alone slip through the open patio door, through his kitchen, and into his home. She should have stopped at the yard because even his plush Kentucky bluegrass lawn had felt incredibly eerie, the way she sank into it like it was quicksand.

She kept telling herself she was merely a boring freelance travel writer with a cat that seemed to like the neighbor’s backyard, and that there was nothing strange about the way the mist of the night coiled and hung on the grass. Mentally, she blamed the stray Siamese she’d named Doll for everything that was going on at this moment. The cat showed up on her doorstep about the time Mr. Mysterious moved in. She had fed the cat, but it always seemed to go to his yard at night. During the day, it was at her house. So it was the cat that killed the cat, perhaps?

The footsteps had stopped. She tried to get her story straight in her head. I came home from shopping and Doll was on my patio. I’d bought a flea collar and was trying to put it on her when she took off running. I got to the fence and she wiggled her way through. I followed in pursuit. Yeah, that sounded like a good alibi in her head. She just hoped the owner would buy it.

“You can come out from under the desk now.” Light flooded the room. The voice seemed to vibrate off the walls and seep into her skin. It wasn’t husky, and it wasn’t deep—deep was too mundane a word. It was subterranean, and should have been illegal. She gulped and put her hand to her throat. Had her voice left? “I know you’re there, so you might as well come out. I can smell your fear.” She jumped and banged her head on the heavy oak desk.

“Son of a bitch,” she hissed, sliding out from under the desk and rubbing the back of her head.

“I didn’t realize you were acquainted with my mother.” The steel-edged voice didn’t seem amused.

As she crawled from under the desk on her hands and knees, she barely remembered how she even got this far into his house. He wasn’t going to buy her excuse—she looked like a damn thief. She was wearing black slacks, and they showed the grass stains on her bottom from falling off the fence. Luckily her turtleneck was also black and was hiding the scrape she’d gotten shouldering open the heavy wooden door to the den. She hadn’t yet gotten off her hands and knees before she started rambling into her alibi.

“Look, I am so sorry. I don’t know why I hid under your desk. I was trying to put this flea collar on Doll and she ran in here and I thought…” She finally got herself turned around and faced the source of the voice. She stopped mid-rant.

What she was staring at was the most surreal-looking human being she’d ever laid eyes on. She’d seen the sculptures at the Louvre in Paris, and this man was nothing near comparable. His skin was pale like the marble of those statues, but the statues didn’t glow like his skin did. She shook her head. That was impossible. People didn’t glow. She looked at his square, firm jaw-line, back to his face and swallowed. No, his flesh was glowing. It reminded her of staring at the moon after a fall rain. His inky black hair shone like wet tar, striking a sinister yet appealing contrast to his porcelain-like skin. It looked soft, and she felt immediately drawn to it, her hands itched to touch it. Yet, it was his eyes that made her lose her knack for babbling. They were a strange shade of blue, a hue stuck somewhere between midnight and dawn. Dinah had a master’s degree in English, and made a living off having a way with her words, and just his presence had robbed her of speech and thought. She only stared at him, wide eyed, because all her language skills had left.

His dark brows knitted together, and she swore she could feel his anger. This man had an aura of authority and anger. She started to inch around the desk, glancing at the door and judging the distance she’d have to make up. I’m going to make a run for it. Ten feet to the door and damn the cat.

“Don’t even think about running until you tell me why you’re here. Then I might let you leave.”

Let me leave? If her skin weren’t mocha colored, she probably would have looked as pale as he was. Fear hit first, quickly followed by anger. Did he think he could keep her here? Not without a fight, Mr. Dark and Morose. I’m a six-foot Amazon and proud of it. I haven’t met a man yet I couldn’t challenge and beat. She quirked an eyebrow, assessing if he was armed by letting her gaze wander over his body. No, the only weapon he had was those eyes, which were assessing her as she was assessing him.

She put her hands up, palms up and open, as if calling a truce. He just quirked his eyebrow and folded his arms across his broad chest.

“Hey, look, like I was saying. I followed Doll, the cat, from my backyard to yours. She snuck in the house through the patio door. I thought I would just get her out of here.”

Was he smiling? He’d just threatened her life, and he was smiling. He was a sick bastard. Gorgeous man but a sick bastard.

“Is this Doll a Siamese cat as big as a small dog?” Again, his voice seemed to be coming from around the room, not just from his mouth. It had to be the heavy, wood-paneled walls. She noticed, looking around the room, that everything was heavy wood. The door, the bookshelves, the coffee table. Everything except for the huge burgundy leather chair. It looked like it was fresh from the seventeenth century.

“Yes, that’s Doll. Have you seen her?” she said even as her feet slowly took her toward the door. Keep him talking and just back out the door.
“She is a he, and his name is Phantom. He is my cat.”

She gasped and stopped. All this time, it wasn’t a stray cat! She never felt so duped. And by a damn cat. At least it wasn’t a boyfriend this time. She shook her head, damn her rambling, even mentally she couldn’t stop. She started to move toward the door again.

“Look, uh, sorry, it was just that she…uh, it…he, uh, Phantom has been coming to the house in the morning and staying until night. I came to think of him as a stray and, well, mine. Sorry again. I don’t mind feeding him. It isn’t cat food, just leftover tuna and beef sometimes…” She was back to babbling. She managed to slide to the door and took a backward step over the threshold. Somehow, he was in front of her and staring into her eyes before she even knew he’d moved.

“If you ever darken my doorstep again…”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish. She turned and fled down the hall. The patio door was still cracked the way she’d left it, and she slid out of it sideways. She didn’t look back. Vaulting over the fence by leaping on his outdoor table, Dinah had run into her house before she dared to breathe. She closed her own patio door with a thud and turned the lock, the click of the deadbolt making her feel secure.

Walking around her kitchen and rubbing her arms, she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread she’d experienced. Seven damn words, but the way he said it made her blood run cold. She poured herself a large glass of red wine and took a fortifying swallow. She wasn’t a drinker, but something about that encounter had left her shaken to the point of almost being afraid. She felt like she needed something stiffer, like a whisky sour, but wine would have to do. She tried to rationalize the last four minutes of her life.

“Sure, I committed a small crime of breaking and entering. I’ve been busted for trespassing before, amongst a few other petty misdemeanors…” She realized she was talking to herself. She’d never done that, but there was something frightening about her next-door neighbor that left her feeling nothing like herself.

“I have that affect on people.”

She whirled around, her eyes bulging as she looked at the face of the man in question. How did he get in? How did I not hear him? And why am I paying for an alarm system that obviously doesn’t work? She took one step back and, feeling behind her, grabbed a large carving knife from the butcher’s block on her center island. I’m not going to run in my own domain. I have a right to protect myself in my own home.

“So you mean I could have killed you in my home and everything would be fair?”
She looked up at him, meeting his steady gaze. She was positive hadn’t said that out loud. Then again, I was talking to myself just a moment ago, she thought, as she continued to stare at him. She thought her nerves were fried, but standing here, listening to a man who she didn’t know about death and killing. Shit. I’m going crazy. This is a dream. A nightmare.

“I’ve been called worse than a nightmare cherie. The look on your face is obvious. You haven’t spoken a word yet.” He kept still, his hands in the pockets of his black slacks. Dinah knew they looked like a formidable picture. They were both dressed in all black, both of them with jet-black hair, except she had bangs and looked more like a beatnik as opposed to his assassin look.
Clutching the knife, she willed herself to breathe.

“Look, I explained to you why I was in your place. Why are you here?” She risked taking her eyes off him to look at the patio door behind him. It was still closed and locked. He took a step closer, although it seemed more like he glided. She looked down at his feet and realized her wore a pair of dress shoes most men would only wear at funerals or christenings. And yet he hadn’t made a sound on her hardwood floor. She started to clutch the knife so tightly, she felt her nails begin to break through the skin of her palm.

“I believe you left this.” He tossed the forgotten flea collar onto the center island. She barely glanced at it as it skidded to a halt on the black, granite-top counter. She kept her eyes focused on him. She saw a hint of a smile playing at his lips, which seemed to be rather pink against his pale skin.

“Keep it—it’s your cat.” Looking at him with narrowed eyes, she wondered if he liked to scare people.

He rolled his eyes as if he could hear her thoughts. In her mind, she was trying to be fair, while maintaining her calm. She thought he could have found her frustrating as all hell. She did break into his house, hijacked his cat and left a flea collar behind. She’d been told she was stubborn and troublesome. Maybe he thought the same thing.

He looked down at the hand that was still clutching the knife. His eyes refocused on hers, his gaze locking on to her. She didn’t know why, but she felt compelled to put the knife down. Placing the knife on the counter, and fearing for her life the second she did, she folded her arms under her breasts and stared at him. She didn’t know his name, but the fact she had no idea who he was seemed to kick her libido into overdrive. She obviously needed to date more since the idea of making passionate love to this stranger seemed to be the only thing she could think about.

“Galien,” he said, although it seemed like his lips barely moved. “Galien Le’Coure.” Even his name put her on edge, the sound of his French accent making her shiver. Since he didn’t hold his hand out to shake, she kept hers folded and her fists balled.

“Dinah Jacobs, Galien Le’Coure. Boy, they don’t name ’em like that anymore.”

“I’m very—how would you put it? Ah, ‘old school’ is the term, I think.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. He didn’t seem like he belonged in her modern kitchen, and his slight French accent didn’t make him appear old school as much as old century.
Her writer’s mind took over as she began to analyze his look. He overtook her six-foot frame by at least eight inches. His narrow waist wasn’t hidden by the form-fitting sweater, but the sweater seemed to tighten around his broad shoulders and his deep, barrel chest. Despite the long sleeves of the sweater, she could see he had powerful arms. He could probably snap a neck with one hand.

She realized she was staring as soon as her eyes met his again. The pureness of the cerulean hue in his eyes made her breath catch. She stumbled backwards, beginning to cough. His hands were on her back, patting her soundly, before she realized he’d even moved.

Jumping away from his hands, she realized his touch was cold. It was almost sixty degrees out, which was warm for this time of year, but he was freezing. Maybe that was why he looked pale—his blood was cold.

“It can be. Right now, my blood is hot.” His voice boomed in her kitchen. How did he do that? One minute he was in her head and the next, his voice took over the whole space.

“What?” she said and inched away from him, her eyes darting back to the discarded knife.

“You don’t want that.” His gaze shifted to the knife. “What you want is me.”
Dinah gasped. It wasn’t that he had the audacity to say she wanted him. It was the fact that it was true. She did want him. She was afraid and still wanted him.

“I think you should go.” She finally found her voice, but the words were halfhearted and came out breathless.

“I don’t think I will.” His self-assured manner did nothing but make her want him more. Dinah was trying to get her mind around the fact that this man could be a psychopath, but neither her hormones nor her libido seemed to give a fuck.

“Why are you here?”

“To give your collar back,” he said as his eyes zeroed in on her throat. Her hands flew to her neck.

“Dude, you could have trashed it. Why are you really here?”

“You didn’t let me finish what I was saying.”

“Finish what? You said all you needed to say.” She honestly didn’t want to hear anymore. His presence was enough to turn her knees into jelly, and her heartbeat was racing. She was sure he could hear it thudding in her chest.

“I could hear your heartbeat as soon as I moved in next door,” he said as his lips parted into a smile. His look reminded her of the old saying—the smile of the cat who ate the canary. It was satisfied yet sinister. She shuddered, but then her mind snapped out of the fog it had been in since she’d encountered the man. Everything she thought, he responded to without her voicing it. It didn’t help that it was close to Halloween and she’d been jumping at shadows all month.

“Are you a mind reader? I know I didn’t say that out loud,” she finally said after her thoughts finally screeched to a halt.

“I’m much more than a mind reader. I’m what scares little children at night.”

“I’m not a little child.” She murmured, although his presence made her feel very much like one.

“No, you aren’t a little child. You’re very much a woman. A smart, chocolate woman I want to taste.” He came closer to her and bared a smile. As she watched, transfixed by his stunning white teeth, his incisors began to descend. His teeth are growing! The pointed ends seemed to shine in the dimly lit kitchen. He leaned in closer, his breath cold on her ear. “Can you imagine the ways I want to taste you? I want to bite you, then suck you, then bite you some more.” She shivered. Her heart was racing. But she couldn’t stop staring. She couldn’t stop looking at his teeth. “Do you want to know what I was going to say before you ran away?”

He was standing dangerously close to her, his breath cool on her neck. He pressed his body into hers and smiled, his fangs fully descended and fully visible. Her voice was breathy when she finally responded.

“Wha-what… What were you going to say?” she stuttered.

“I was going to say, if you ever darken my doorstep again, I will show you what you do to a man, even a dead one.”

“No,” she whispered although it wasn’t in protest. The images of Galien—a vampire—and her entwined in sheets, her face contorted in pleasure sped through her brain. Her whispered plea was one of denial. Vampires didn’t exist, they certainly didn’t, and there wasn’t one standing in her kitchen. Any minute now she was going to wake up.

“You aren’t dreaming.” His voice was gruff, and he finally had her pinned, his strong arms on either side of her, trapping her against the countertop. “You are very much awake. Let me show you how awake you are.”

His head dropped to her neck, and she felt his tongue caress her skin. It sent a shiver through her, and her whole body tensed. He licked from her earlobe to under her chin, his fingers pulling the turtleneck sweater down from her neck. She gasped. Was he going to bite her? He chuckled.

“Not yet, but I will.” His promise made her shudder in anticipation. He grabbed the sides of her face with his calloused hands. It felt so different than anything she’d ever experienced. His head angled toward hers and she felt his mouth on hers, his fangs nipping at her bottom lip as his mouth moved over hers. His kiss was expert, moving over her top lip then her bottom, nipping until her mouth opened. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and it felt like electricity ran down her spine.
She tried to push at his chest. The realization of what he was danced at the edge of her logic, defied everything she knew, and he was kissing her and she liked it. Finally, she tore her mouth from his, gasping for breath.

“You’re, you’re…a…vampire,” she said, proud she could finally voice her thoughts.

“I am.” He grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face until she was looking into his eyes. She realized why his eyes looked so strange. Where most people had flecks of different shades surrounding their pupils, his were pure cerulean, unmarred by anything but his black pupil.

“Am I under a spell or trance?” She felt like she should be scared, but she wasn’t. That fact alone convinced her she was in some sort of vampiric, hypnotic spell where she lost all common sense. He chuckled as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“No. You’re not under any spell or trance. Earlier, I made you put the knife down, but that is the extent of it. You aren’t scared because you want me. I feel your true desire, no gimmicks.” His matter-of-fact way of saying things made her stomach flip and twist into knots.

“You keep saying that. What makes you think—” He put his mouth to her lips, tsking at her.

“I may be a demon, but let’s not lie to each other, mon chéri. I know you want me.”
Her eyes went wide. He was either arrogant or… Who the fuck was she kidding? She’d just let him kiss her senseless. He chuckled again, his teeth gleaming.
“Are you going to kill me?” she whispered. Galien was right. She wanted him, but she didn’t want to die for desire. Nothing was worth that.

“You’ve been to France, oui?”

She could only nod.

“Then you know what le petit mort means.”

She nodded again.

“And…?” he said, his fingers tracing a line under her jaw to her earlobe.

“It means the little death, or orgasm,” she said, her voice sounding small, helpless, breathless, and completely in need.

“Then, oui, I’m going to kill you over and over and over again.” His smile was sweet, his tone sincere, and his eyes shone with lust, promise, and confidence.

“That…” She didn’t finish her sentence; his lips were on hers again, this time aggressive, commanding, and unyielding in their onslaught on her mouth.
His lips were surprisingly soft, and she let go of the counter, willing her hands to touch him, to feel if he was indeed real. She pressed her hand against his abdomen, pulling his sweater up, her fingers grazing his muscled torso. He hissed into her mouth, deepening the kiss.
She was definitely crazy.

Chapter Two

She doesn’t know the definition of crazy, Galien thought as his tongue played against hers. Crazy was the stage he’d been in the first week he’d moved into the old riverfront-manor-style home. He’d picked the house because he had easy access to a river, it was at the end of a cul de sac, and no one would bother him. Then, he’d smelled her. Her blood was so sweet, it reminded him 0f the crème brûlée he’d adored when he still ate food. He could taste it on his tongue.

Insane—he’d approached that point a month ago. His cat, the traitorous beast, would come home, his fur smelling of her, enticing him to the point of no control. Tonight, finding her in his home, he thought finally he’d earned some sort of reward for the involuntary vow of celibacy, a limp cock, and no desire to fuck or feed.
It was true. He’d been cursed by a witch who couldn’t take the hint. He didn’t do relationships—he didn’t do more than one night. He was over four hundred years old, and the need to feed on human blood was few and far between, but the need to have sex—ahhh, but he was still a man. Human women couldn’t handle him for more than a night or two. The sexy witch, he thought, could at least handle a week of what he called his sword.

Then she had to say the infamous Where is this going line, and his honest response was to bed and not an inch farther. He’d been honest. He’d been a French noble, one of the last powerful ones before unrest and le Revolution began to spring forth, and honesty was one of his traits. Noble, on the other hand? Some women would disagree.

The witch had been wrong. She said he wouldn’t get another erection until he experienced what it was like to want someone as badly as she’d wanted him. The spinster sorceress assumed that meant he’d want her. No, the witch been absolutely wrong. Dinah was what he wanted, the smell of her made his mouth water. The curse had been broken as soon as he’d moved in to the empty house next door. He’d gone to into his day slumber with Dinah’s name on his lips, visions of her brown skin disturbing his sleep of the dead. Now, she was here in his arms, and his erection was painful.

After Dinah had fled down his hall, he wouldn’t let their first meeting end there. The smell of her lavender vanilla perfume had stayed in the air, spurring him into action. He closed his eyes, and thought of being in her home, his supernatural powers taking him inside of her house in the blink of an eye. He’d beaten her home, cloaked himself in the shadows and, listened to her talk to herself. She was so innocent, he almost couldn’t stand it. Toying with her by answering her thoughts, well, he’d only meant to put her off guard, but he found disorienting her turned him on immensely. Now, feeling her fingers explore his body in wonder, he stopped reading her mind for a moment. It was an unfair advantage anyway, but he found it difficult to concentrate on her thoughts when her touch had his thoughts coming and going.

He pressed his body into hers, the feeling warm and inviting. Relishing in the sensation of his hard cock pressed into her stomach, he allowed himself to just feel her, and to hear the beating of her heart. It was beating fast, but strong.

“You have on too many clothes,” he whispered against her mouth. His hands gripped the neck of her sweater, and, without flinching or a guilty thought, he ripped the garment from her body, tearing it in two. Her breasts sat high in a black lace bra, and he felt like he’d never seen anything so artistically perfect. Her skin was so chocolate in color, he had memories of the flavor. He groaned deep in his throat, so much he could feel the vibration through his body. Her forgotten wine began to shake in its glass—he could hear the stem of the flute quiver gently. Easy, Galien. Kissing Dinah made him forget what he was, forget the demon inside him and he thought like a man. He licked the top of one orb, circling his tongue, enjoying the sensation of her leaping pulse on his tongue. It was like being shocked over and over again.

He moved to her other breast, the one closest to her heart. The steady rhythm of her breathing combined with the soft melodic thuds of her beating heart sounded like a symphony in his preternatural ears. He brushed her tattered sweater from her shoulders. Her skin was so hot beneath his cold fingers. Never before had the contrast been a turn-on for him before, but now, with her skin beginning to glow with arousal, he savored it. Nuzzling his nose into her supple breasts, he let his fingers touch wherever he pleased.
His hands roamed over the black silk lace of her bra and pulled the lace down, exposing an erect nipple.

“You’re delicious,” he murmured as he sucked the tip into his mouth, circling his tongue over her until the nipple felt like a blackberry on his tongue. He raised his head and blew, knowing his breath would be like an ice cube on her wet and heated flesh. As he’d wanted, she gasped, her back arching up and her mouth forming an O. He couldn’t resist—the temptation was too much. He let his incisor graze her stiff nipple, not cutting her, just enough to scratch a bit. The shudder he felt course through her body was exhilarating.

“You make me use all of my senses, mon chéri,” he whispered in the valley of her breasts as he moved to the other nipple.

“Is that a good thing?” Her voice seemed far away, breathless, but amused. He liked that.

“Let me show you how good it is.” He loathed to do it, but he took a step back from her. He had to or their clothes would be mangled shreds if he had his true desire. She might not want to lose another piece of clothing. He smiled at his own joke and pulled his sweater over his head. Even in the dark, he could see her eyes glowing with amusement.

“Thank you for allowing me the option to take my own pants off instead of you ripping them off.”

At that he did laugh as he watched her unbutton her pants and kick off her shoes. Again, she’d made him feel like a man with just a simple statement. He quickly kicked off his shoes and pulled down his slacks, no shame in his stiff cock jutting at the ceiling.

“Phew, take it easy on me with that, okay?” she said, her eyes zeroed in on his cock. That made it swell harder, as if it was putting on a proud show. He couldn’t take any more. Before he could finish the thought, he was towering over her, grabbing her by the waist, and hoisting her onto her counter. He sank to his knees and opened her legs, breathing in her aroused scent. His mouth watered for her; he needed to taste what he could smell.

Pushing her knees over his shoulders, Galien inhaled before he dove in. He might not be able to eat food, but he was going to dine on Dinah all night long. Nothing was going to stop him from doing so. The initial sensation of her wet pussy on his tongue made him moan. The taste of her wetness in his mouth made his eyes roll back in his head.

She moaned, her fingers sinking into his hair, her nails scraping his scalp. She didn’t know what she was doing—she couldn’t. Inflicting the tiniest bit of pain on him was highly arousing. It would cause… Hell, he didn’t even know what it would cause. No one had ever dared try.

“Dinah,” he murmured into her pussy. “Mon chéri, don’t do that, I can’t think…”

“Do this?” she said as she traced a firm line with her nail behind his ear. His mouth clamped down on her pussy, his tongue lashing at her clit like a whip. Her hips bucked, and she was no match for his strength, but her endeavor was cute. He held her in place, suckling her clit until it swelled. Her thrashing and bucking only excited him more.

Then she did the unthinkable. Her hands moved from his head to his biceps, her nails skimming a light line on his arm. He growled this time, delving his tongue deeper inside her pussy in warning, and, if he were honest with himself, as a dare. He braced, knowing she would do it. She sank her thumbnail deep into his flesh, actually breaking the skin. He watched her face as she watched his arm, her eyes wide in wonder and arousal. His blood only pooled for a moment, then stopped. Her thumb swiped across the mark she’d made, his blood deep crimson on the cappuccino color of the pad of her thumb. The wound was gone—nothing lay underneath. Her eyes flickered to her thumb for a moment. He heard her thought even as he watched her hand move toward her mouth.

I wonder what he tastes like. He grabbed her wrist with one hand, stopping her.

“Do you know what you are doing?”

“Not really.” Her voice was husky but her eyes were fixated on his blood.

“You lick mine, chéri and I will lick yours, make no mistake about it.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “Deal,” she murmured as she slipped her thumb into her mouth. He felt like she sucked his soul into her body, if he still had one. The sight of her taking his blood on her pink tongue made him salivate.

“So, tell me how I taste. No one has ever told me that.”

“You taste like cinnamon candy—spicy, sweet, hot, like fire on my tongue followed by cool honey.”

He moaned and stood, wrapping her legs around his waist. He pressed his cock against her slick opening, rubbing his glans against the moist folds. Pressing the tip of his dick against her clit, he began to grind his pelvis against hers. The things she said and thought drove him into a frenzy. He needed to hear her beg for him more than he needed anything.
He rubbed his cock up and down her slit, teasing the entrance to her pussy with just his head. His hands clamped on to her waist, forcing her hips to match his pace. Her eyes rolled back, and he could feel her getting wetter.

“Tell me you want me.”

“You know I do, Galien.” She sighed, her hands clutching his shoulders.

“I want to hear you say it out loud, so I can hear your voice.”

“I want you, Galien.”

“Tell me more.” He pressed harder against her opening, still not entering her.

“I want you inside me, Galien.” Her voice was so husky, he bit his lip. He slid the head of his rigid dick only an inch into her pussy and let it sit, throbbing inside her.

“More, tell me more, my precious mortal.” He gritted his teeth, biting his bottom lip to keep him from pushing farther into her heat.
He wants it as bad as I do. How astute she was, but that still wouldn’t make him budge.

“I want to feel your cock deep inside my walls, Galien. I want to feel what you feel like filling me. I want to know all of you, Galien. Give it to me.” Her arms slid up his arms and locked around his neck.

“As you wish,” he said, looking down at her mouth before catching her lips in a deep kiss. Her pussy was so wet, his cock glided in, slowly because he wanted to enjoy every sigh she made. Her walls clenched around him, pulsing at every inch, sucking him in deeper until he was fully seated in her.

“Breathe, Dinah,” he whispered against her lips. He felt her intake of breath as he slowly withdrew, enjoying the scalding heat of her canal. Slowly he rocked inside her, never completely leaving the warmth of her walls, never wanting to. It was slow, even for him, but he couldn’t help it—he needed to inhale every second of every moment with her.

“Galien, please, I’m going to come.”

It was all the encouragement he needed. He sped up just a little, letting the tip of his cock caress her g-spot with every re-entry. Her walls quivered around him; her wetness increased.

“You are so tight, mon chéri, it is so exquisitely tight.” Her pussy fluttered around his. She was close. The vein in her neck pulsed as she gasped for air. The sight of it made the sound of her rushing blood roar in his ears. His control began to unravel, his hips thrusting faster and faster.
Her arms tensed and locked tighter around him, and her hips rose to meet every single one of his thrusts.

“Fuck, Galien. I feel like I’m on fire.”

“That’s my blood in you, chéri. You can feel my desire and yours.”

“Galien, please, oh, ah…”

He thrust harder, coiling one arm around her waist. Using his other arm, he held her close while his hand pulled her hair tie from her hair. His fingers entwined in her thick black tresses, shaking the strands free until they spilled over her shoulders. She looked like a goddess. He pulled her hair back and forced her to look at him. He knew what she would see. His eyes would be eerily yellow. His incisors lengthened to the point of pain.

“Look at me, Dinah.” His voice vibrated off the walls, this time causing the wine glass to tip over.
Her eyes opened, and they were the most glazed-over, lustful eyes he’d ever seen.

“Your voice, why does it do that?”

He almost laughed. “I’m very powerful. I can move things with a thought. When I’m out of control like this, it…” She put her fingers on his lips, quieting him.

“You’re not out of control yet.” She kissed him, hard, and then bit down on his lip, drawing more of his blood. Her warm tongue licked at his wound, making him groan.

“I think I’m addicted to you, Galien.” She smiled as she said the words, her lips against his.

There went the last of his control. He pulled her hair back, exposing her neck and watching her throat bob with each breath. Her veins were pulsing. He slammed his cock into her. Driving himself in her as deep as he could go, he pushed his hips up into her, over and over again. Faster and faster, he couldn’t help it if he wanted to.

“Deep, so deep,” she murmured, her pussy quivering uncontrollably around him.

“That’s right. I am.” He watched, fascinated, as her eyes stayed with him, locked with his, unafraid. Again, she made him feel like just a man.

“Do you want to taste me, Galien?” she asked, her voice a whisper. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, he was too dazed.

“Yes,” was all he could think. Yes to any part of her she wanted him to taste. She chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, any part?” He smiled. She could hear his thoughts now that she’d tasted his blood. That thought, of his blood in her body, made him pick up the pace, the full brunt of the demon beginning to unleash. Her thrusts matched his, going faster and faster, taking all of his hard cock in her pussy. “Do you want to know what it’s like feeling both our desire, Galien?” She let her neck fall to the side, exposing her chocolate skin, her vein pulsing with her blood.

“Bite me. You promised.” Her breath was husky. She was a daring, beautiful creature. She had no idea…

“Oh, yes, I do, but I don’t want an idea. I want to know. Show me.” She thrust her neck in his direction, enticing him.

It was the only invitation he needed. He let his lips curl back, feeling the pleasure of fully exposing his teeth, his demon finally at the surface. Ahhh, yes, he was free…

Chapter Three

She wanted it, asked for it, begged for it. It was magnificent to watch. Galien’s eyes were no longer blue or yellow. No, she was looking at deep crimson eyes with a faint black outer ring. Wow. It wasn’t fear—no, she felt her pussy flutter at the sight of his teeth. It was just amazement.

He felt so good inside her, she felt her insides tighten at the thought of those teeth inside her flesh. Her pussy clenched at the thought.
Again, she thrust her neck at his mouth. “Do it.”

Her eyes closed as his mouth came toward her, and she took a breath. The first initial prick wasn’t so bad, like getting her ears pierced, but then his lips clamped down and she felt the full length of his incisors in her flesh. It was glorious. The feeling of his cold lips against her hot skin sent her into a frenzy, and she bucked. His arms clamped around her in a vise-like grip, and his suction deepened.

He moaned into her neck, the feeling vibrating through her body. She could feel the blood leave her, flow into his mouth, and it was euphoric, like floating on a cloud. His tongue swiped against her skin and that was it for her. Her pleasure unleashed in waves, first a small orgasm that left her tingling, then a bigger one that made her take a gulp. A third wave rushed over her and her body stilled, and the fourth ripped through her, finally causing her to let out a deep groan.

Galien pumped harder and faster into her, relentless. She held on, another rocking orgasm building within her.

“Galien, come with me, please,” she murmured, her vision beginning to blur.

Galien growled and slammed himself into her, his cock pulsing deep within. Then she felt it swell. With one last draught from her neck, Galien let go, licked her wound, and exploded deep within her. She felt his seed fill her; her pussy clenched in reaction, pushing her over the edge into another orgasm.

She clutched at him as her breathing slowed. She felt delirious. Her eyes drooped closed, and she felt herself being carried up. She didn’t care where. She felt him chuckle even as he laid her down in her bed, covering her up in her sheets.
“Galien, I’m not dreaming, am I?” she murmured sleepily.

You’ll have a nice little love bite to show for it in the morning. Good thing you like turtlenecks, my little mortal. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.

The last thing she thought as she drifted off to sleep was, We are going to have to address this “little” thing. I’m not little. She felt him chuckle in her head as her mind went completely dark.

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Burning Down Montana – Chapter Two


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED – COPYRIGHT

Vesta could smell.   She could smell the bleach,  the aerosol of linen and the stench of awful hospital food.  Hospitals, plainly, sucked, and she hated them.  She immediately wanted out.  In her mind, she could feel herself turning to move, as if she could walk away from the smell and the hospital.   Her body, however, didn’t respond quite the way she had imagined.  Her arms and legs hit metal.  Well son of a bitch.

“Are you trying to go somewhere pet?”  Ah, she could hear too, and she could hear a man with an English accent calling a her a fucking pet? She tried to turn toward the direction of the voice only to have searing pain tear through her left side.   She couldn’t scream,  but the pain was enough to spring tears to her eyes and she felt the salty water run down hehr cheeks.

“Ahh pet, don’t cry.    Don’t move either, its going to hurt.”   She could hear the voice had gotten closer,  and she was in no condition to protest as she felt large,  warm fingers swipe away the tears from her cheeks.  There was an odd comfort in his touch,  he must have been a doctor, no one had ever touched her and made her feel safe.   She opened her eyes, not that it did her any good as she couldn’t see past the thin layer of guaze.  The blinding flourescnet lights overhead made the doctor look like a very big blur.

“Oh my, damnit Vesta!”   at the sound of her brother’s voice, she wanted to turn and smile, but she held back, remembering what the last attempt to move did to her.

“Doc, what happened?”

“I’m not the doctor.”….

Continue reading at the link below…

https://nevealane.wordpress.com/burning-down-montana-chapter-one/burning-down-montana-chapter-two/

 

 

Last Chapters and Conclusion to Interviewing the Italian


Chapter Ten – To Hell With It
It didn’t take me long to figure out that August was blind. Sexy, alpha, but blind. I think that his cousin and ex-fiancé just made him look like a jack-ass. Then I felt bad for him. I got off the bed and looked down at him. His face was itched in lines of worry and perhaps realization.
Despite his tendencies to be Alpha male one minute and vulnerable the next, I found myself getting to know him, perhaps even falling for him a little bit. Maybe it was just better to leave now and cut my losses. I never mixed business with pleasure, and from the kiss that I did share with Augostino Romani, I would soon be looking for pleasure and damn the business part of it. I had to get out.

Yet, instead of walking out of the room and leaving him to his thoughts, I made a ghastly mistake. As if I was in some type of trance, my hands found their way to his hands, which were still buried in his hair. I couldn’t pull them back if I wanted to. The silken strands felt cool to my touch and I became lost. Moonlight streaming in the large bay window caught his eyes. I was glad I couldn’t see what color they were. They looked like small lakes in the man’s head, shining in the moonbeams. I sat down on the edge of the bed, my thigh resting next to his abdomen. I could feel that he had stopped breathing. He was probably wondering, just like I was wondering, what the hell am I doing?
He pulled his hands from underneath mine. Grabbing my wrists he pulled my hands to his chest. I could feel his heart beating a tattoo rhythm and his breathing hitched. I knew, really I did, that I shouldn’t be doing this but I didn’t want to stop.

“August, I…” I didn’t know what to say. I could tell him the woman in side of me was screaming for release but that scared me. No, I didn’t want to say anything. I watched as his sat up, still clutching my hands.

“Yvonne, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t want it to happen, but ever since that interview, I can’t stop thinking about it happening. So before I go any further there are some things that I have to tell you.” August sighed and let go of my hands. I know that tone of voice. It was the same tone of voice my mother got when she had to tell me our father packed his bags and left. I wasn’t going to like what August was going to say. My gut was in a g-force dive into my feet and I couldn’t stop the sinking feeling overwhelming me.

“I’m all ears.” I still needed to abate my desire for this man, but I wanted answers first. I tried to put a clamp on my desire as August started talking.

“I figured that my own cousin was the leak. I just didn’t think that Lucy would be involved in it. Lucy knows something about me that could probably take me down and make me never show my face again. If she thought I was on to her being involved, she would blackmail me.” August leaned back and stared at the ceiling. I could tell his was frustrated from his tense posture. I could also tell from the way he was clinging to my hands.

“Go on…” I said, wiggling my fingers a bit. He let my hands go and I put them in my lap.

“You see, Lucy knows something about me that could change my life as I know it. Raphael my cousin already knows.”

“What is it!” I screamed. I was never one for the dramatic, or suspense.

“I am not Augostino Romani.” He said with a whisper. I stopped. Everything stopped moving. As far as I knew, there was only one Augostino Romani and this man in front of me was it. Now the stranger was telling me that he wasn’t August?

“Come again?” It was all I could say.

“My name is Augostino Conti. My mother had an affair with my father, a very rich man in Italy, and they had me. He didn’t want to have anything to do with me. That is until his real wife died giving birth to her second son. Mother and son both died in labor, but to make himself feel better, my father, Piero Romani, came and took me from my mother. He gave me his name and I haven’t seen her since.” He sounded choked up.

“How old were you?”

“I was four. Raphael is my mother’s nephew. My true cousin. He knows who I really am.” August’s voice cracked and I could tell he was in pain. That type of pain I could relate to. That type of pain was human.

“So if you make your cousin out to be the leak, then he would expose you?”

“I am sure of it. Raphael said he had information on my mother. Apparently Piero paid her off pretty well for her trouble of birthing me, and Raphael made it seem as though she still missed me. I wanted to find her. Raphael said he knew where she was, but he needed to get out from under my father’s business. So I brought him here.”

“Has he told you where she is or how to get a hold of her?” I pitied him. All of this time, I greatly admired him, and really what he needed was a supportive ear. I was no better than all the other women that have launched themselves at him. I felt like an ass.

“No, and he has been holding out. I doubt that he will after I punched him.”

“So, you think that Lucy and Raphael would take you down because of your last name?”

“Yes! I know it!” August began to yell. He bolted off the bed and began to pace. “The name Romani means power. I probably wouldn’t even have all of this if my last name wasn’t Romani. It opened doors for me, I got into the university because of this name. Everything that I have would be a lie.”

I hated agitation, but August’s lopsided view of things made me want to yell right back.

“Stop that.” I yelled. “You are not made of your last name. You did the work, you got the grades, you developed your brand, and it had nothing to do with your name.”

“You’re biased. You have been following Romani Enterprises for years.”

“So! Do you think your ideas would have been less brilliant if they were named Conti Enterprises? You are still his son, despite what your birth certificate says. Why would they blackmail you?”

“If it came out that I wasn’t his second son that really died in child birth, all of my inheritance would be forfeit. I am illegitimate. I used the inheritance as seed money to start the company.”

“I see.” I didn’t know what to think. If he paid them off, they would come back for more. If he didn’t his company would forfeit its name, his father’s indiscretions would be exposed and August would feel like he lost.

“I had to tell you now. I feel like I have involved you too much as it is…” His voice trailed off.

“Can I ask you something?” Since August was airing his dirt, I felt like I had to get sure answers.

“Yes. Please.” He said. His voice losing some of the hard edge I had grown accustomed to.

“Why the interview set up and why did you ask me to be your personal journalist?”

I heard him give a sigh and watched as he came to sit next to me on the bed.

“Because I knew that if anyone could expose me for the real me that I am, it would be you.” He chuckled as he said it. Did I miss a private joke?

“Come again?”

“Like I said, I suspected Raphael as the leak. I also know that Raphael reads just about anything that you particularly write. You should hear him go on about the great Savannah Martin. So I figured if you found out about my parentage and aired it, it would beat Raphael to it, thus no blackmail. Then I met you and spending the day with you, I didn’t want to go through with it.”
“You didn’t want to go through using me, you mean?” I said. It was a hell of a situation to be in; I couldn’t tell if I was mad or flattered. I was just floored.

“Using you, exposing myself, being attracted to you… all of it. I can’t play this game anymore.”

I didn’t see him move. I just felt his hands grab my shoulders and the warmth of his lips close to mine. The moment I took to gasp in shock was apparently the only moment August needed. His lips clamped down on mine and I felt him lean into me. His fingers stroked a fire up and down my arms and I knew I was a goner. There would be no running away from this kiss. I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to run. I just wanted more, more of the drunk feeling he was giving me and more of August the human and not August my idol.

Chapter Eleven – To Everything….

I kissed him as if it was going to be the last thing I did. I felt his warm tongue invade the cavern on my mouth. The tip of his tongue traced my teeth. I had never felt anything like that and I felt a jolt of heat fire through me. His kiss was every bit as intoxicating as it was the first time, only this time, I wasn’t running. I kissed him back with the intensity I felt. Drowning in the taste of his full lips, I finally let my tongue brush his. It was an exciting duel. His tongue tasted of cloves and mint, an erotic mix that caused moisture to pool in my clenched pussy. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to me, angling myself so I could feel his body weight on top of me.

Feeling euphoric, I let out a moan. He froze. I opened my eyes and found him searching my face with a huge question in his eyes.

I put my index finger on his chin and traced his kiss swollen lips with my thumb. Then cupping his cheek, I stroked his short, dark stubble and waited.

“Are you sure you can do this Yvonne? I never meant to…” I put my fingers to August’s lips.

“I never meant to either. I don’t ever do this. I can do this and I want to do this August. Take me, I’m yours.”

That was all the encouragement August needed. His gaze met mine I witnessed his transformation from an unsure man to a hungry wolf. His pupils got round and I sucked in a breath. It isn’t that I had never been with anyone, but I had never been with a man like August. He was experienced, and from what I could tell, passionate. Yet, I knew I needed this moment, and I wasn’t going to run from it. His hands began to run down my sides, feeling for the bottom of my tank top. His touch was hot to my cool skin, sending jolts through me every time his fingers grazed my skin. His lips found mine and this time the kiss was leisurely, but still intense. His tongue traced my lips; his soft spoken Italian endearments came out in rasps. His nose nuzzled my neck and he started to kiss and lick my neck, my shoulders, my arms and then my finger tips. He pulled each digit into his mouth and sucked each one with the same care.

He pulled me towards his chest, until my legs wrapped around his torso. Looking into my eyes, August stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.

“Don’t flinch.” His low aroused voice shook me out of my stupor. Before I could even ask, August took his two hands and ripped the flimsy tank top in two down the center. My modest breasts poked out as if they had been caged.

“You know I could have taken that off right?” I chuckled. That chuckle quickly released into a groan as August dove in between my breasts. I didn’t see anything funny about the pleasurable torture he was administering to my breasts. He sucked a tip into his mouth, bit down gently, and then caressed the bitten nipple with his tongue. His alternating on each nipple and the pain of his bite combined with the pleasure of his soothing tongue sent me into orgasm. I let out a low moan as I felt the edges of the universe begin to fold in on me. I never thought that I would have an orgasm from someone playing with my breasts, but August did it and I couldn’t have felt more complete. We were just getting started, and that elusive orgasm was already out of the way. I had never ‘finished’ during sex in my past, but August brought me to the big O before we even had intercourse! I smiled to myself as I let his hands wander over my body. The intense feeling in the pit of my stomach began to build again. I needed to do something or I was going to pass out before we got t the good stuff. I began tugging at his shirt, pulling it over his torso and letting my fingertips graze his taught skin. I heard his sharp intake of breath and smiled. At least he was affected as much by this encounter as I was. After pulling the damn shirt over his head, we were finally chest to chest, making skin to skin contact. His heat was scorching my flesh, but I didn’t care. He was the only one that was going to soothe the fire in the pit of my belly.

I ran my fingers over his chest, down his abs and to his pants buckle. I didn’t want to wait. I unbuttoned his pants and he arched a little off the bed so I could get them off. I unlocked my legs from around him and the idea hit me. It wasn’t graceful sliding off his lap, but I finally got my long limbs into a kneeling position in between his spread legs. I kissed the lines of his torso, gentle tugging his pants down. As I got to the band of his boxer briefs, I took in a deep breath. Moving lower I spotted the target, rock hard and needing attention. Slowly, I began to blow on August’s marble like cock through the satin material of his underwear. It began to jerk towards my mouth, but I was not in a rush. I had never been so aroused and I wasn’t going to miss a single moment.

I let my tongue quickly lick the tip as I pulled his pants all the way off. It was time to get rid of the other barrier. I took a seam of his underwear and looked at him. I smiled, slow, seductively and his eyes got big.

“Don’t flinch,” I said my voice raspy as I tugged and tore his underwear from his body. I could feel his belly shake as he chuckled. You want be laughing long, Mr. Romani. I licked my lips and in one swift movement I had most of August’s length in my mouth, my tongue running circles around the sensitive ‘v’ underneath his head. Pursing my lips as if I was sucking on a straw, I tried to suck in as much of his gorgeous tan cock as I could. His hips bucked and arched off the bed. I let my tongue caress the bulging vein on the underside of his thick cock. The taste was sweet and salty, an inebriating mix of sex and male assaulted my nose and I thought for a moment I was about to catapult myself into another orgasm.
I felt his hands on my shoulders just as I was moving my head up and down his shaft.

“Dio, belissima, please stop. I won’t last.” He grabbed my head and gently pulled my head away from his throbbing cock. It came out of my mouth with a pop. Gently gripping my head, he pulled me up to his lips for a kiss. As our lips found each other again, August maneuvered so I was lying underneath him. I felt his fingers in the band of my shorts and I knew what was coming. I heard the rip and felt the fabric drop from my heated core.

Tearing my head away to gasp for air, I had to regain some sense.
“If we keep this up, we are going to need to buy a new wardrobe August.”

“Or you could just not wear any clothes around me for the rest of your life.” He growled in my neck. I was too far gone in passion for the brevity of August’s words to hit me at that moment. It was his three fingers caressing my nether lips that threw everything into a spiral. His index finger was teasing my clit like a pearl in oil while his middle digit worked in and out of my tight walls. My inner core sucked at his finger, pulling it deeper and his urgency taking me higher.

“You are so tight belissima,” August’s throaty baritone sounded far away. “How long has it been?”
My pussy walls clinched again as his fingers kept stoking the fire into a raging inferno. What did he even ask me? I smiled to myself as I remembered the question.

“Ahhhhhh…” I moaned bucking my hips under August’s touch. His pace was quickening and I was about to fall over the precipice again.

“How long?” His finger’s stilled as August asked me again.

“Around four years.” I panted, writhing as August’s fingers held perfectly still inside of my wet folds.

August groaned deep and positioned himself in between my legs. He leaned over me and my legs instinctively wrapped around his torso. He positioned his head at my entrance, my insides already clutching in anticipation of his nice cock invading the space.

Bracing himself on his arms, August began to push. The beginning was almost painful and I felt like a virgin again. The head of his cock was fully inside of me as he leaned closer to me. I could feel the warmth of his breath in my ear and I heard his soft whisper: “Forgive me belissima”.

His hips plunged forward and I felt a searing hot pain on my walls. His girth completely stretched my walls. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out. He held still for only a moment, and then he pulled slowly out. As slowly as he pulled out, his hips strained to go back in at the same lethargic pace. In an instant, I was on the precipice again. As I felt August’s chest rub against mine, I noticed that I was beginning to sweat in between my breasts. I needed release. I put my feet on the bed and arched my back to meet August’s slow thrusts with thrusts of my own. August reared up on the impact. He grabbed my hips and the leisurely pace was gone. He pulled me into him, matching our thrusts and finally pushing me over the edge.
“August, I’m going to…” I panted, trying desperately to catch a breath that seemed to elude my lungs.

“Yes, bellisima, come for me.” As if at his command, my pussy clinched around his dick and my juices flowed. I arched my back and let out a low howl as my orgasm crashed around me.
August pulled out completely and grabbed his cock. I watched as his large hands grasped his cock and one, two strokes and his seed began to shoot on my belly. White and stringy, several spurts landed side by side. He groaned and rolled to his side. I took my fingers and drew some circles in the semen he deposited on my stomach.

He was looking down at me, some of the dazed passion dulled by our orgasms.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you were on anything and I didn’t have a condom with me.” He kissed my forehead gingerly and went to the bathroom. I listened to the water running and it was lulling me to sleep. I jumped when I felt a steaming cloth touched my stomach. I watched August through half lidded eyes as he washed my stomach with gentle caresses and light touches. As he finished up and toss the cloth on the nightstand, I watched his movements. For the first time since I met him, he looked content. He gathered me into his arms, pressing my back into his chest. Pulling the covers over us and throwing his legs over mine, August snuggled in and began a rhythmic breathing sound. Listening to his breathing I realized that I was in love with August Romani.

Shit.

Conclusion

I didn’t have time to even think about sneaking out of the bed. August was up and out before my eyes opened. If it weren’t for the slight soreness I felt in between my legs, I would have thought that I dreamed about having sex with August. It wasn’t a dream. I knew it wasn’t a dream when I heard the door open and spied August coming into the room with jeans, sans shirt and a tray. I sat up, covering my naked form with the sheet and tried to get used to this different side of August. He was smiling. It was a crooked smile, almost a self conscience smile, with his upper lip hitched just a little, but it was a smile nonetheless, and I was captivated.
“Good morning sweetheart. Breakfast is served.” August voice sounded boyish, almost light. And it was the first time he hadn’t barked or growled. Then I remembered, he hadn’t had sex in two years. Having sex would take the bite out of any man. My ears reddened as I remembered our ‘coupling’ last night. I didn’t know what else to call it, it was more than just sex but it was less than a slow sensual encounter.

August placed the tray on my lap and sat across from me. I felt the journalistic itch of wanting to rattle off a million questions, but somehow, some part of me was content in just sipping the orange juice and staring at August as he watched me eat.

I quirked and eyebrow at him as I stabbed a piece of cantaloupe with a fork.

“Aren’t you hungry?” I held the juicy fruit to his mouth and watched as his pink lips wrapped around my fork. I smiled as he chewed the food thoughtfully, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. We sat in silence as I fed him bits and pieces of what was on the plate. I didn’t know what to say but I think we both knew that the dynamics of this ‘relationship’ had changed.
I finished eating and removed the tray. I grabbed a robe and sat up with my legs crossed.

“So, do you want to address the elephant in the room or should I?” I said, looking at August’s gaze.

“I love that about you.” I started at his statement. He held up his hand and shook his head. “Please, there is a lot to talk about and I think that you want to hear it before you decide on us.” He took a deep breath and I felt myself bracing again. Why did I feel like he was going to drop the elephant on me?

“It isn’t simple really. But I will try to make you understand. Yvonne, I think I have been following your career just as much as you have followed mine. I have read everything that you have published. I was determined to meet you sooner or later after reading your application to the scholarship foundation. It just wasn’t time yet. But I felt like I could tell you anything. When I set up that interview, I wanted to see if my gut was right.”

“As far as the leak, I was pretty sure that it was Raphael, but I figured it would be a good way to see if we were compatible. To see if you thought the same way I did, if I could trust you. So I set up the interview, the personal journalist thing right after I broke it off with Lucy. And the mistress thing, ” He paused. “I didn’t want to show up to the embassy dinner alone.”
“Can I ask one question August?” I asked, crossing my arms in front of me. I wasn’t sure if I should have been pissed or flattered. He nodded. “This business about your father, your last name, all that, is it true?”

“Yes, that is all true. Even Adriano doesn’t know that I am not that brother that died in childbirth. I am his brother, but by a different mother.” August looked pained at the admission. Maybe one day I could get him to tell Adriano.

“Ok, so tell me why your inheritance would be forfeit if you came out about your mother now?”

“Because the inheritance was set up by Adriano’s mother family. All the money that my father had at the time came from them. The name is power, but there was no money until my father married her. Piero Romani had the name, she had the money. If they were to find out they would make sure I would give the inheritance back. But I don’t want put them through that.”
That had my wheels churning, but I needed him to keep talking.

“So what about Lucy?”

“It was like I told you, I was never in love with Lucy. She didn’t demand too much and it was uncomplicated. But then I caught her with other men. And I knew that I didn’t love her. And the first thing I did was pick up a Savannah Martin article. Perhaps it is a family trait, but I think we, Adriano, Raphael, and myself all had a soft spot for you. Raphael thinks your brilliant and Adriano likes that you are straight to the point. But I fell in love with what wasn’t written in the lines. You had this passion about whatever you were writing about. After Lucy and I fell out, I told myself it was finally time to meet you. Lucky I had a leak at the time.” He smiled and I couldn’t help but to laugh.

“You know, a girl could let that go to her head.” He smiled and picked my hands up in his.

“I know it seems crazy. But there is something I have to do before we go any further.” He said, he voice dropping to a serious tone.

“Well do it.” I said. I didn’t think it could get any crazier. It did.

“You’re fired.” August said.

I started laughing. I couldn’t help it.

“I am glad you fired me August, because I was about to quit.”

****Months Later****

I closed the laptop on my manuscript. I was finally finished. I had written about August, but August Romani, the man, and not the myth; and I used my real name. After I sent the interview to my editor, I left the magazine. It was my last great interview. When my editor read it, he asked me if it was all true and if August was going to let me say anything about the leak, his broken engagement and his new love, Yvonne Mason.

I laughed and told him that August helped me write it. That was the truth. After August ‘fired’ me, I was free to really write about him as he wanted to be known. He really wasn’t the arrogant bastard that most of the press called him. He spent most of the time trying to keep people from knowing his secret of his birth.
At my urging, August finally told Adriano the truth, and the funny thing was, Adriano already knew. He said it didn’t change ‘a damn thing’. August set up a trust in the name of the deceased August Romani and told his father that it contained all the money from the inheritance and then some.

Piero Romani had a surprise my dear August. He had adopted him legally right after August hauled Raphael overseas to work for him. August was indeed, truly, in name Augostino Romani. I would like to think that Piero after 32 years grew a conscience and really made August his son. But I knew it was because I called him and told him that I was writing a book on August and threatened Piero that he would be portrayed as a horrible father if he didn’t do something to soothe August’s soul.

He had laughed at me then. When I started to pull the names of mistresses out of my hat, he stopped laughing. He told me I was a shark. I told him that I have been called worse.
I snapped out of my musings when I looked up and saw August standing up. He put a desk in his office for me to work while he was working. Possessive, maybe, but I didn’t want to be separated from him either. There was still much more to learn about the formidable Augostino Romani, but I was a fast learner. I smiled at him and he smiled back. It was the shyest most sincere smile I had seen from him; but from being around him, I knew that something was up.

I stood up and met him. His office was still huge even with the addition of my desk and a love seat. He took my hand and led me over to the couch. August took my heels off my feet and began to massage them. His blue eyes began their transformation to the stormy navy I had come to love.

“Yvonne, can I tell you something?” His voice was husky, gravely, and made my pulse race. I tried to sound nonchalant as I tipped my head to the side and nodded in answer to his question. August took a deep breath and sighed. “I love you.” I tensed. He hadn’t said it in three months. Even though I knew I was in love with him, and he sort of mentioned it after our first time together, he had never said it.

I felt the tears well up in my eyes and I bolted into August’s lap and began to shower his face with kisses.

“I love you too August.” Secretly I thanked my stars that I decided to wear my lucky sneakers. This turned out to be the best damn assignment I’d ever had.

New Release – Novella – Amory’s Mate by Nevea Lane


You asked, now you shall receive.   We ran an experiment for a while of shorter stories, however, most fans have indicated they want something longer… (don’t we all… *snicker*)  So here I give to you, Amory’s Mate, a longer work that will knock your socks off with action and sensuality.     The heroine is a independent damsel that is in distress but you won’t see her faint nor swoon.   She is packing guns and knows how to use them.     Here is a blurb and an excerpt.  It is available now at http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/amorys-mate.html

 

Amory's Mate

 

Blurb –

Running in the woods through deep snow in the middle of the night wasn’t a good idea no matter who you were. Running through the woods at night, during a blizzard with a stolen laptop, several stolen microchips, and two goons chasing you was an even worse idea. Angel Harmon was always full of ideas, but this late-night run hadn’t been her plan. She thought for the hundredth time that hour that all she was doing was her job. She thought she’d chosen a safe career in the IT field. Being a security specialist, she found security breaches in websites and company programs. All she was doing was her job, and now someone was dead and she was obviously next.

Amory Monteclaire had been out on a run with his packmates when he’d crossed paths with the mocha skinned female running through the woods.  Her scent was intoxicating enough for him to want her, the fact that she was in danger made him want to protect her.  The question is, would the wildly independent woman stay in his world once she was out of danger?

EXCERPT –

“Angel.” It was all he could say; his chest was heaving, the urge to howl was too close, and her lips were still pressing closed-mouthed kisses on his cheek and his chin.

“Amory,” she returned. Her voice was serious, even if she had no idea what she was doing or what he was saying. She sighed then laughed. Stopping her assault on his body with her mouth—for which he was grateful—and sitting up, she looked him in the eye. Her normally almond-shaped eyes were in the most seductive slits he’d ever seen. There was something to be said about a woman who could look at a man without a look of fear—he just couldn’t think what it was. What he saw, in that moment, was the warrior his Angel really was. Her look was sensual and defiant. His chest swelled as she stared at him. “What? You think I’m going to cower because of what you are? You think you howling, growling, grunting, and whimpering is going to stop this want I have for you? Are you really that bad of a wolf, Amory?” That last question was asked in defiance, as if she was daring him. “Well, are you? Are you that bad of a wolf that you don’t think I can handle you?”

 

 

Go pick up your copy and of course, let me know what you think.    Happy Reading!

Not So French Vanilla – new eBook by Nevea Lane – Available now!


Dabney had finally done it, she made the perfect vanilla cupcake! The smell was so intoxicating it brought her longtime friend and neighbor Camron knocking at her door. However, what Camron wanted was more than just a taste of her latest baked goodies. He was about to let his bountiful beautiful baker know that what he wanted was not so French Vanilla.
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New Release – If I Could Go


*Peeking around*  Wow, is it empty in here.  *dusting microphone off* Hello?  *echoes*  *Tapping mic*

HELLO UNIVERSE!

It has been a while.   I could say, shame on me, but I’m really not ashamed.   Everyone needs to recharge their batteries every once in a while, we are all human, well most of us are.

Which brings me to my point of stopping in.   We are all human, apt to faint, be fickle, get tired, lose our phones, marbles, watch, mind…you name it.  As humans, as much as we gain, we can lose.   Given the emotional time of losing loved ones and letting things go, sometimes we wonder, what are we doing it all for?  Love.  Love, in its many forms, does make the world go round.  Whether it be for love of money, love of yourself, love for others, love for the world… Love does play a part in everything we do.

Moving on to my next point – What would you do for love?  Would you stick around for over a thousand years just for a glimpse of a soul you once knew?   Would you believe your dreams, no matter how absurd they sounded or looked?

I’ve decided to go down that word and examine what two souls would do for love.  This short novella is a starting point to introduce you to my new set of characters,  Marius and Fia.   While this beginning work is short, it is merely just a ‘jump-off’ to the next work which is in progress.

With that being said, how about a buy link? Click the image or go here – http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/if-i-could-go.html

 

Fia Nyx was exhausted. Not from her job, leading an analysis team in Italy to expand the Roman section at the Smithsonian sounds like it would be exhausting, but it was actually her sleep that was keeping Fia exhausted. The dreams of the sexy male with his blonde hair and blue eyes making her squirm and cry out in passion would be great, if they stayed in her dreams, while she was in bed. Now the dreams were occurring mid conversation. Her sister is begging her to come home, but Fia can’t help to feel there is something more to these waking dreams. What she finds is a lot deeper than sleep deprivation.

New Release Available at http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/if-i-could-go.html
New Release Available at http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/if-i-could-go.html

New Release – Measure for Measure – Only 99 Cents!


New Release – Measure for Measure – Only 99 Cents! Click the book for the link or  click here

What’s a girl to do when faced with three years of jail time or one night with a sensual dominant?  Submit of course.   Isabella Court didn’t think that one night with with her boss, Duke Vincentio would be as bad as going to jail.  What she didn’t plan on was the lust the arrogant mogul ignited in her.  One night, no jail. What’s the worse that could happen?

 

New BDSM Release
Measure for Measure

 

99 Cents at ARe! Prima Materia by Nevea Lane


Prima Materia by Nevea Lane
Prima Materia by Nevea Lane

 

 

Fatima had an immense amount of time to think being over three hundred years old. When she wasn’t administering her own version of justice, preternatural style, she was thinking of only one other being: Pero Franco, her sire and her lover. Although she’d hadn’t lain sight on him in over two hundred years, her love for him still ruled over everything. Pero’s disappearing act turned her into the cold vampyre she was, and only Pero could save her from her loneliness. A part of her wanted to tear him limb from limb, and the other wanted to caress every inch of his skin. Can Fatima find peace once she comes face to face of the one that created her and abandoned her?

New Releases and Attacking the Fear


Ahhhhh, it has been a while hasn’t it people?  I haven’t blogged for much of anything in the past year, but I have a good reason!   Life has changed, and so has my writing style.  As a kid, do you remember all those little anecdotes they told you in English class to help you get through your writing?  “Show, don’t tell.” “Write what you know.” etc…?  Well I’m here to tell you, that at least that part of school was not total bunk.

Show, don’t tell… I wanted to show readers what it is like to be in conflict.    I wanted you to FEEL it… Can you, as the reader, feel what it is that heroine/hero is going through.  So I’ve changed the way I write because, simply, life has changed.   Gone  are the days where things are black and white.  At 33, I’ve found that life is loud and in color.   There are blue moments, red moments, orange moments, brown moments, and ultraviolet moments.   Let me bring you one of those moments – Presenting Love as Wide as the Atlantic –

LOVE AS WIDE AS THE ATLANTIC – 

Why would I write something that is emotionally engaging as well as full of the hot and steamy stuff?  Because that is what life is!  What I’ve learned is that anything that is hot, steamy, erotic or highly sensual will have an emotional tie to it.   Don’t let anyone tell you that there is just sex to be sex… Ok, I will rephrase, don’t let a man tell you sex is just sex.    Anything that is worth having in your life even if it is a one night stand, is an emotional thing.  Sometimes you just feel like ‘you gotta have it’, well that’s emotion folks.   So now, what do you do when faced with a question that could flip everyone that you know world’s upside down…. I would say…ask Alexia…What would you have done?

Alexia Woods came to know the phrase “stuck between a rock and a hard place” all too well during her college years. The rock? Cody Slater. The hard place? Heath McCormack. As their days slowly dwindled, leading up to graduation Alexia resigned herself to the fact that their oh so manageable relationship wouldn’t be oh so manageable anymore and gave her boys a farewell that she believed would last forever, just like her heartbreak from having to say goodbye. So why is it years down the line she finds herself Cody’s date to Heath’s wedding–a wedding that as far as she’s concerned shouldn’t be taking place because in her heart of hearts she knows both men belong solely to her? What’s a girl to do when her love is not only as wide as the Atlantic but just as deep and tumultuous too?

Love As Wide

 

 

*EXCERPT*

Cody Slater looked at the gold filigree lettering on the wedding announcement and
invitation again. He couldn’t believe his best friend was actually going to marry that gold digger.
He loved Heath like a brother, but he couldn’t let this mistake continue, and he didn’t honestly
believe that Heath even liked the dimwit blonde his parents had picked out for him, let alone
loved her enough to marry her.
Tapping the card on his chin, he needed to think. What he really needed was a drink,
but he’d sworn off the stuff years ago after a two-day binge trying to forget he’d driven Alexia to
the airport. He’d gotten into a fight, had his nose broken, and called Heath a spoiled rotten rich
kid that wouldn’t have let Alexia walk away if he had taken the silver spoon from his mouth.
The insults he’d hurled at Heath were nothing compared to the ache he felt inside when he
thought of Alexia.
Not that he thought Alexia would actually stay if Heath had renounced all his wealth.
She was too independent and headstrong to care about money. Cody had felt a twinge of
jealousy when Alexia seemed more concerned about Heath’s welfare than his own. That was the
moment when she’d shared with him the one thing that had cut him up more than her leaving
did. Her words echoed through his mind now as he got up to retrieve his laptop.
When this is over, you two will still be best friends and have each other. I on the other hand, won’t have
anyone. Cody will need his parents and his wealth, and you will need your best friend.
He wanted to tell her then that she would always have them both, but that was a lot for a
twenty-two year old kid to promise, no matter how sure he’d been then. As that kid, he
couldn’t commit to her then, and he couldn’t scream that they were what she needed. Cody
kicked himself mentally every moment since she’d been gone. There had been nothing he could
do then. He didn’t want to damage their relationship by pushing her too soon, but he lost her
anyway.
Heath hadn’t fully recovered from losing Alexia either, and Cody knew that. Once best
of friends, he barely talked to Heath except for at Christmas and their birthdays. Losing Alexia
had torn them apart as well, so she had been wrong about that much.
At that moment, Cody began to see it all too clear. He was going to save Heath, and
maybe in the process save them all from continuing to make the biggest mistake of their lives.
Grabbing his cell phone, he punched a few numbers and waited.
“Heath McCormack’s office. Paige speaking.” Cody had to stifle a laugh. “Paige” had to
have been the fourth secretary that Heath had in as many years. Before Paige there had been
Beth, Heather, and Tamia. His buddy could be a cold callous ass when it came to his business,
but Heath had a score to settle with his father, even if he would never acknowledge the fact.
“Hello Paige, can you tell Heath that Cody Slater is on the line?” After a few seconds he
heard the frustrated sigh of his friend on the line.
“McCormack.”
“Heath, damn, not even a ‘how are you, buddy?’” Cody bristled but quickly let out a
pent-up breath.
“No. It’s not my birthday or Christmas so I can’t imagine why you are calling.”
“Um, do you think it has anything to do with this ivory invitation I got in the mail?”
Silence. Dead silence. Anyone else would have thought Heath hung up the phone. Cody
knew better.
“I didn’t realize they’d gone out. I’m not really involved in the plans.” Heath’s voice was
strained, as if his wedding was a topic he didn’t want to talk about. Well, tough shit, Cody had
enough of this loneliness.
“So did they pick out your best man too, or is there still time for me to get fitted for a
tux?” Cody knew Heath for almost twenty years, and he knew Heath would not swallow an iota
of pride to ask him to be his best man.
“Cody…would you? I mean, if you aren’t busy…I know I haven’t been in contact…but…”
“Quit stammering. Of course I’m going to be there. Now, is that best man spot still open
or not?”
“Of course.”
Silence again.
“I’ll be bringing a guest. I can’t be left all alone with Kim’s bridesmaids.”
“Oh yeah? What lucky lady gets to see you try to dance?”
Cody laughed, a genuine laugh this time. The previous times Heath and him talked, it
was a strained tense cough at best.
“I wouldn’t call her lucky, but she is definitely a lady. But I will get in a few days early so
we can have a true bachelor party and stay up all night like we used to.”
“But without drunk goats and whipped cream highs, right?” It was Heath’s turn to
laugh. Cody remembered those moments very well from their college days.
“I make no guarantees. See you in a few weeks.”
“Can’t wait. Cody?”
“Oui, mon ami?”
“Thanks. Bonne nuit.”
“Bonne nuit, bud.”
Cody hung up the phone in a daze. He couldn’t believe that Heath had told him
goodnight in French. It had been ‘their’ thing when they were settling down for the nights.
Alexia, Cody and Heath would snuggle into the oversized California king bed, and each one of
them would tell each other goodnight in French, it was one of the many things they’d all had in
common.
Heath speaking French had to be some sort of sign, and to Cody that sign was that Heath
had not moved on, and he must have been thinking about their relationship with Alexia. With
any luck, and a lot of hope, Cody would have them all back together, and not just fond memories
to hold on to at night.

 

So, my dear reader, you can choose to see what Alexia decided and after hearing all three sides of the story, what would you have done?  Sometimes in life you have to choose to attack the fear of a situation rather than run from it.   Attacking fears is one thing that will set you apart from those who just ‘get by’ in life and those who actually live life…Live life and attack fear…that is what I learned from Alexia.  Writing her as a character made me stronger as a person because I learned one thing – Nothing gets done by doing nothing.   In the blink of an eye your world can change, don’t just lay there.  

If you would like another scene from the tumultuous lives of Alexia, Heath and Cody, check out Prelude to Launch, the steamy short prequel. 

 

New Release! Get Ready To Chase Nickels…


 

Chasing Nickels Around Dollar Signs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are you ready for a little treat?  This inexpensive little treat will definitely get you revved and ready.  Are you ready for a little heat to start your summer off just right?

I know, enough with the questions right? (See what I did there *smirk*) The tax season is finally over and we all get a little punch drunk and woozy during those times.  Let’s face it,  working into all hours of the night, your mind tends to run away with you.  You never know what may happen once your brain is fogged.

Take Sasha Nickels for example.  She works hard and well…take a peek ~

The April tax deadline is fast approaching for Sasha Nickels, and the last thing she needs is an unannounced visit from her questionable client Cesar Parisi and his associate Sonny Amato.  Cesar and Sonny are two men who won’t take no for an answer. Obedience is expected.

When they show up unannounced on the busiest tax day of the year, she wants give them both a good piece of her mind.  However, Cesar and Sonny make it known they’ll take a piece of her mind, but they want her body as well…

Excerpt:

It was difficult to stand in their menacing presence one at a time, let alone both of them at the same time.  They both stood well over six feet, but Sonny had the advantage by an inch.   The stare down couldn’t last all night.  She moved to the side and pushed her hair behind her ears.  Keep it quick and simple, stick to the points, and don’t think about touching their hair.    Touching their hair was always on her mind, as Sonny’s hair was jet black and Mr. Parisi’s hair was a tussle of blonds and browns.  For the two years of their working relationship, she was more often tempted to touch their hair than their money. Clearing her throat, she motioned to the leather chairs in front of the desk.  She watched as they sat and noticed there wasn’t a briefcase between them.  What the hell is going on?

“So to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Mr. Parisi?”
Sasha walked to her desk, sat down, and folded her arms in front of her.
“Come on, Sasha.”  His voice dipped, and her name sounded like a melodic seduction rather than a greeting.  “You’ve known me for years now. Can’t you bring yourself to call me Cesar?”

Not if I want to keep myself from sitting in your lap as if you’re Santa.
“Mr. Parisi, I’m a busy woman.”

“And Mr. Parisi is a busy man.”  Sonny’s voice was as gruff as always.  She cut her gaze to him. Like she didn’t know that.
“Since we are both so busy, why don’t we skip this verbal sparring and get to the point of why you’re here?”   She’d directed her question at Sonny, but it was Cesar who answered.

“You’re amazing.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected.
“Excuse me?”
“You said to drop the verbal sparring and that is exactly what I’m doing.  Sasha, mia cara, you’ve done an amazing job for me for the last few years, and I wanted to show you that I’m more than grateful.”

“Send me a bottle of Chianti and a box of chocolates and we’ll call it even.”  She waved him off with a flick of her wrist and picked up her pencil with the other hand.  Sasha didn’t have time for this. She needed to review returns and try to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

“You are worth far more than a box of chocolates and some wine,” Sonny said. For once, he didn’t sound ticked off.

She turned to look at him.  In her line of work, as frigid as it may seem, she wasn’t surprised by much.  In her life, being the only child, growing up dirt poor and having barely enough to eat, she could match attitude for attitude, but this bad cop, good cop or whatever these two were doing was unraveling her carefully constructed wall of self-preservation.

“Your eyes are sparking.  Does that mean you are interested, mia cara?”  Sonny’s voice was definitely lethal, and he was using it to his full advantage.  She’d never bothered to wonder if her eyes sparked or not because they were hidden behind her glasses most of the time.   Sasha stared at him a long time before she spoke.
“Interested in what, Sonny?  You haven’t proposed anything for me to be interested in.”

“A proposal would be a bit premature. How about one night together first? We’ll get around to wedding plans later.”

End Excerpt

Want to know how Sasha responds?   Pick it up: Available at the Beautiful Trouble Publishing website ONLY:

http://beautifultroublepublishing.com/genres/new-releases-home-page/chasing-nickels-around-dollar-signs-ebook.html