Love & Lust in Space, a Sci-Fi Lover’s Dream Antho!

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I’m so excited to be promoting Love & Lust in Space on A hopeful Romantic today! I have a very special place in my heart for this anthology, edited by the fabulous Jennifer Denys. As it turns out I had every intention of writing a story for this fabulous anthology, being a huge fan of Sci Fi myself. It was only when I got about six thousand words in that I realised ‘oops!’ This has to be a novel. As it turns out, it ended up as my NaNoWriMo project this year. BUT it was most definitely inspired by the lovely Jennifer Denys and Anna Skye last year at Smut by the Sea.

All that is a long way of saying what an absolute pleasure it is to finally see the finished anthology. I know a fair few of the authors, I’m proud to say, so you can expect fabulous stories with lots of sexy, out of this world, twists and turns. With that in mind, Jennifer has put together a wonderful Round-Table sort of interview with some of those authors and all I can say is that you’re all in for a treat!

 

 

 

 

 

Love & Lust in Space

 

They say your screams can’t be heard in space… Unless you have a partner or two! Eleven authors take you on a trip where any pairings are acceptable, locations vary from spaceships to strange and futuristic worlds, and interesting and exciting objects can be used in sex play.

 

If randy astronauts, virtual reality lovers, sex in near-death situations, a commitment-phobe human and her alien lover, and reproduction in space experiments don’t do anything for you, you are clearly not human!

 

So try the stories in the alien worlds half of the anthology, instead. Here you’ll find alien Doms, a mysterious gladiator saving a stricken princess, an exotic dancer, a paid assassin on the run, an illegal sonic dilda’tor, and a pleasure booth. Space has never been so exciting!

 

 

  1. How many sci-fi stories have you written?

 

Beverly – I have written sci-fi since a young teenager. My interest grew with the advent of sci-fi and fantasy word-based adventure games in the early eighties for computers such as the Spectrum 48 and Commodore 64. Somehow, writing scenarios for these adventures transformed into writing scenes in stories. Stories to date are too many to count, but this is my first erotic short.

 

Ashe – Just a couple so far, but I’ve got the bug now and I do have a few kinky out-of-this-world ideas fermenting so there will be more to come.

 

 

  1. If you were to star in a sci-fi show would you be the captain who always gets the girl/guy, the nerd who invents a sex android, or the hands-on sex therapist?

 

Rose – I would probably be more like the sexually frustrated sidekick who’s always overlooked. But, out of these specifically, I hope I’d be the captain!

 

Dylan – I like to imagine that I’d be the captain who gets the guy but I think in reality (is there such a thing?) I’d end up being the nerd creating the sexdroid.

 

Jordan – If I were in a sci-fi show, I’d most likely by the hands-on sex therapist.

 

 

  1. If you could go to another planet what method of transport would you choose: spaceship/transporter/wormhole?

 

Ella – I would choose spaceship because a transporter might go wrong and a wormhole? Well, you might never get back.

H K – Transporter. Beam me up!

Beverley – Wormhole. I’ve never believed that travelling is part of the holiday.

 

 

  1. What type of sex appeals to you – antigravity sex/virtual reality sex/sex in public in front of aliens/secret sex/sexual experiment/illegal sex?

 

Ashe – My story in the anthology features sex in public with a crowd of aliens looking on, but I reckon antigravity sex sounds pretty awesome too. And experimental sex. Oh, and illegal sex sounds a bit tasty. Mmm, perhaps just any sort, really.

 

Ian – I like the idea of sneaky sex with a crewmate, maybe in a locker or a quiet part of the vehicle, and weightless sex is a fascinating idea

 

H K – Secret, illegal public sex in front of aliens, in zero-gravity.

 

  1. Which would you prefer to be – a pioneer colonist on an alien planet/astronaut undertaking experiments in orbit around Earth/an ambassador to an alien world/explorer of the galaxy in a spaceship/futuristic computer hacker inventing strange new worlds, new life and new civilizations…. (that line sounds familiar…)?

 

Dylan – Mmm… tough choice. Whichever one results in my ending up in an alien dungeon with a sexy alien Dom, and some wonderful and weird sex technology!

 

Jennifer – explorer, I reckon, having first contact. Or colonist trying out new planets. I’m far too forthright to be an ambassador, would get claustrophobic as an astronaut and no good at computers to be a hacker!

 

Morgan – In my dream life I might be a pioneer colonist, but I don’t think the reality would be as exciting as the idea.

 

 

  1. Would you prefer to be abducted by a hunky/sexy alien to be their mate or be the hunky/sexy alien abducting the Earthling?

 

Dee – I suspect I would very much enjoy being abducted by a sexy alien to be their mate—but [he] doesn’t have to be hunky. A sexy, intelligent, witty blob of gel? Cloud of plasma? Sure, let’s see what we can do together.

 

Ian – Abduct me baby, I won’t play hard-to-get

 

 

  1. Choose a sex toy – sonic dilda’tor/pleasure booth/orgasma orb

 

Dee – Tell me more about their features. Actually, why I don’t I try them all before I make my decision? Is there a sample table?

 

Jennifer – Have to have the sonic dilda’tor since it is the title and subject of my story! (But I want to try the others out afterwards!)

 

Morgan – Can I choose something different like a Virtual Reality Sex Simulator – or maybe that’s the same as a pleasure booth?

 

 

  1. If you could be an alien which would you rather be: a strong warrior/ a beautiful princess/an interplanetary assassin/a hunky alien Dom/a member of the ambassador’s security detail/an exotic dancer?

 

Rose – Being a Disney girl at heart, I’ve gotta go with being a beautiful princess. But I wouldn’t mind being a beautiful princess who meets some of those guys!

 

Jordan – Being an interplanetary assassin sounds fun!

 

Ella – A twist between the interplanetary assassin and the ambassador’s security detail, maybe the security detail who moonlights as an assassin? Oh the plot bunnies are endless.

 

Published by: Sexy Little Pages

 

Edited by: Jennifer Denys

 

Buy Love & Lust in Space Here:

(takes you through to the correct Amazon for your country): https://mybk.li/llis

 

 

 

Out Now! The Billionaire and the Wild Man by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse (@cw1985 @victoriablisse) #romance #erotica

thebillionaireandthewildman-evernightpublishing-oct2016-smallpreviewBlurb:

Flynn Gifford is enjoying a simple existence in a rural Derbyshire village when Caroline Rogers crashes into his life, barefoot and panicked.

Their lives could hardly be more different—she owns a successful luxury hotel chain, and he’s a penniless nomad who’s off the grid—yet neither can deny the attraction that burns between them. As Caroline reluctantly starts to open up to him, Flynn finds himself divulging some secrets of his own, secrets he thought he’d take to his grave.

But can a billionaire and a wild man ever make a relationship work, or will their secrets keep them apart?

Buy links:

Amazon: http://mybook.to/wildman

All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/2e3qjle

BookStrand: http://bit.ly/2dLBHUT

Evernight Publishing: http://bit.ly/2dt407N

 

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32520398-the-billionaire-and-the-wild-man

*****

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Excerpt:

I’m busy minding my own business, clearing up litter in a field on the outskirts of Hartington when what can only be described as a crazy woman appears, seemingly from nowhere. She’s all wild-eyed, and her blonde hair looks damp. Her outfit is unremarkable, except for the fact she’s got nothing on her feet. Bright red toenails seem massively out of place in this rural village. She seems out of place. I’m not sure why I think this, but somehow, she just doesn’t appear to belong. So what the hell is she doing here?

Normally, I steer clear of other folk unless it’s absolutely necessary, but this woman looks like she needs help. Serious help. If she’s crossed the road with her feet like that, then they’re going to be scratched to buggery, maybe even cut.

Taking a deep breath, I chuck the empty crisp packet I’ve been holding into my rubbish bag. Then I place it next to the tree I’m standing beside and step out into the woman’s path. I’m used to people not seeing me—or behaving like they haven’t seen me, anyway—so I’m not surprised when she lets out a shriek that could wake the dead and freezes in front of me.

“Hey, hey,” I say gently, holding my hands up placatingly. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to come and see if you were all right. I can’t help but notice you’re not wearing any shoes. You’re not hurt, are you?” The concern in my voice confuses me, but then my brain catches up. If this chick is so desperate to get away that she’s gone without shoes, then something’s wrong. Seriously wrong.

I look around, half-expecting to see an angry husband chasing after her, or maybe even a shopkeeper. She could be a thief. Glancing at her again, I realize that can’t possibly be the case, unless she’s stolen something invisible. All she has are the clothes on her back.

She still hasn’t spoken, so I try again, attempting to make myself appear friendly, welcoming. Not an easy thing when you’re over six feet tall and pretty wide, too. Also, the fact I haven’t had a change of clothes, shave, or a haircut for a while won’t help. I wouldn’t blame her if she ran away, to be honest. I must look a fright, but I haven’t peered into a mirror—or even a window—for a good few days, so I can’t be sure.

“Sweetheart, please answer me. Are you hurt? Is there someone after you?”

She looks around, then back at me. Shakes her head. I’m confused—if there’s no one after her, why did she look behind her?

I crouch down. “Are your feet okay? Cut?”

Finally, I get a verbal reply. “N-no. I mean, yes. They’re okay. Not cut. At least … I don’t think so.”

She lifts each foot in turn, checking the soles. They’re fine. Now she’s answered another of my questions, too. Her accent doesn’t sound local. More like southern England. London, perhaps.

I suppress an involuntary shudder. The thought of London, the big, dirty, smoky city, does not impress me. Horrible bloody place. But at least it explains why the blonde doesn’t appear to fit in. She’s not from around here.

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*****

Author Bios:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller) and The Persecution of the Wolves. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 150 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter or Facebook. Sign up for automatic updates on Amazon or BookBub. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

**

Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Author and all round Cheeky Wench. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut AlfrescoSmut by the Sea (Vol.1)Smut by the Sea (Vol.2)Smut by the Sea (Vol.3), and Smut in the City Anthologies.

She is the mistress of Smut UK putting on Smut Events, Days & Evenings dedicated to erotica, socializing, fun and prizes. Check out Smut NightsSmut by the Sea: Scarborough, and Smut Manchester for more info.

Born near Manchester, England, her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories along with her own particular brand of humour and romance that bring laughs and warm fuzzies in equal measure.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can often find Victoria procrastinating on FacebookTwitter and Pinterest.

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Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

Small Town Taste: A Complete Story! Vintage K D Grace

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I can’t count the number of times someone has asked me my opinion on American politics, and while I keep my opinion off my social media pages because they are my business pages, I assure you I did send in my absentee ballot, and that not long after I had watched The Suffragette, feeling once again a sense of awe at the right my sisters before me have fought so hard for all over the world, and still are in some countries. So yes, I voted, and I hope, if you’re an American citizen, you’ll do the same.

 

That being said, how can any erotica writer miss the opportunity for a story that politicians and their strange bedfellows inspire. Small Town Tastes is a complete story, uncut, vintage K D Grace.

 

BE WARNED! This story is FOR ADULTS ONLY.

 

Enjoy!

 

SMALL TOWN TASTE

 

The Keystone town picnic was the perfect chance to shake hands, talk politics, and be seen socializing with the local folks. Hopefully the visit would help Congressman Charles Dodd improve his sagging ratings in the polls. It was all because of the downturn in the economy, Mrs. Dodd kept telling him. Not his fault. But as Harry Truman said, “the buck stops here.”

The congressman considered himself to be in touch with the needs of the common man, and he was at his best when he was chewing the fat with the good ole boys. Nothing made him shine with the media quite like a visit with his grass roots supporters. He was excellent at playing the part of the caring representative, while admiring a farmer’s field of corn or enjoying a local matron’s raspberry preserves at a county fair.

Today, however, it wasn’t cornfields or raspberry preserves that held his interest. Though Keystone’s mayor had introduced him around, eaten fried chicken and potato salad with him, and made sure he chatted with all of Keystone’s movers and shakers, it wasn’t any of the movers and shakers he was interested in either. After all, Keystone was a small town, in which not that much moved or shook.

Today he wasn’t even interested in rubbing shoulders with the common folk. It was the mayor’s daughter, Salina Hayes, who Congressmen Dodd wanted to rub against, and it wasn’t her shoulders he had in mind. He couldn’t believe his cock had been so completely stiffened by an unsophisticated farm girl. A farm girl with the most amazing tits he’d ever seen, he reminded himself.

Salina Hayes sat across the table from him and Mrs. Dodd, leaning forward, her chin resting on her hand, her blue eyes locked on him as though she were taking in his every word, while making sure he got a good view of what was way more than a handful. He hoped his wife wouldn’t notice, but thankfully she seemed more interested in stories of the local women’s quilting circle. The swelling ache in his trousers was exquisite as he watched the gentle rising and falling of ripe young cleavage against the scoop neck of a pale yellow sundress.

She was a second year political science major studying at the State University, the mayor had told him. She had chosen her major because Congressman Dodd was her hero, and she wanted to follow in his footsteps. Right now her hero was having fantasies of her crawling under the table to discretely undo his fly to suck his cock while he listened to the mindless chatter of pork prices and fertilizer shortages. He could imagine shooting his growing wad between her mauve painted lips, while her lovely pink tongue lapped up every drop of his juices. And no one would be the wiser.

As if an answer to prayer, the mayor’s wife invited Mrs. Dodd to go to with her to the community center to view first
hand some of the quilting the local women had been doing. The mayor was busy talking to one of the councilmen, and Congressman Dodd, by the grace of heaven, found himself following Salina Hayes to the punch bowl, watching the way the clingy fabric of the sundress hugged the perfect mounds of her bottom, discretely showcasing, when the breeze blew just right, the outline of her very tiny panties.

“So tell me,” he said moving close to her, “after being away in the big wide world for two years, do you find small town life difficult?”

“I don’t mind. I like small towns,” she replied in a sultry contralto voice with just the tiniest hint of southern drawl. “There’s always something going on if you know where to look for it.”

“And I suppose you would know better than most, being Mayor Hayes’s daughter and all.” He moved closer to her, feeling the warmth radiating from her young body as he took the punch she offered him in a paper cup, his fingers sliding over hers as he did so.

For a second, she looked confused, and he realized she might not appreciate having her parental connections brought up if she were trying to impress an older man, and he was pretty sure she was trying to impress him. Before he could apologize, she offered him an edible smile. “You see that path over there?” She nodded to a grassy trail disappearing into the trees.

“Yes.”

“There’s a pond down there, not far. It’s on Daddy’s property, so no one else goes there.” She looked up at him and held his gaze. “The wild life is fantastic.” Her long dark lashes fluttered. “In fact, I was heading over there just now to have a little peek. It’s so quiet and secluded. You never know what you might find there.” She nibbled daintily on her full lower lip, then turned on her sandaled heals and headed down the path, hips swaying invitingly with each step.

His eyes still glued to Salina’s voluptuous butt, he motioned to one of his security men. “Make my excuses, and see that Mrs. Dodd stays occupied with those quilts. I need an hour.”

The security man nodded, and turned back to the picnicking crowd as though he were on a mission. The congressman downed the punch, checked to make sure no one was looking, then headed toward the path with a second body guard a few steps behind him.

It truly wasn’t far to the pond, and Salina was right. It was very secluded. He could see her lying back in the grass, the straps of her sundress pulled down over her shoulders for maximum sun. He felt his cock tighten in his trousers.

“What’s he doing here,” she nodded to the bodyguard as the congressman sat down next to her.

He reached out and twisted a lock of her blond hair around his finger and offered her one of his election winning smiles. “I’m a congressman, Salina. My life’s not my own anymore, you know. But don’t worry about him,” he held her gaze. “He only sees what I want him to see.”

“And what about your wife?” She offered him a little pout.

He traced the strap of the dress along to the scoop neck line, wriggling his finger just beneath the fabric enough to make her catch her breath. “It pains me to say, she sees a little bit more than I want her to, that’s why we have to be discrete.”

He moved in closer to kiss her, but she pulled away, folding her arms under her breasts. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He cursed to himself. His fucking cock was about to burst through his trousers and this chick was playing coy. But he tried to look guilt stricken. “Of course you’re right. I’m sorry. I just find you so enchanting. You’re all I’ve been able to think about since I first saw you.” He caught his breath. “It’s wrong of me to want you so. And it’s even wore of me to try to act upon my desires, to take advantage of you kindness, your respect. Please, Salina, don’t think badly of me for this one slip up. You’ve got to believe me, this has never happened to me before, and I couldn’t bear it if you thought less of me.” He offered her his best repentant look, and lowered his eyes. “I’ll just go now.”

He started to stand, but she grabbed his hand. “No don’t go, congressman. I couldn’t stand it if you left now. I could never think less of you for wanting me. I’ve admired you for so long, and now that I’ve met you in person, well, I just want to be with you, and I’m so honored that you want to be with me too.”

He curled his finger beneath her chin and lifted her mouth to his, kissing her gently, feeling her tremble at his touch. It was just as he expected, she was still a small town girl, no city veneer on this one, just raw, countrified need. Years from now she’d tell the other farmer’s wives how she had a congressmen wrapped around her little finger. And she would remind them all she didn’t have to be a farmer’s wife. She could have been whoever she wanted. And none of them will believe her, of course.

She pressed herself against him, her awkward kisses becoming more insistent in her obvious efforts to please, a trait he found incredibly arousing. After all, it was that straight off the farm innocence that had stiffened his cock in the first place. He eased her back onto the grass and moved his hand up over her flat belly to rest just beneath her breasts, feeling her gasp and squirm against his touch.

“Have you ever brought other men here?” he asked. He lifted the hand from her belly to stroke her cheek. “It’s alright, no need to be embarrassed. A beautiful young woman like you is way too desirable not to have men sniffing after her all the time.”

She offered him an almost shy smile. “I lost my virginity here when I was seventeen.” She giggled softly, and lay an open hand modestly against her cleavage. “One of Daddy’s farm hands.” Her smile faded. “I wouldn’t want you to think I’m a slut though. At the time I thought I was in love. I was so young then.”

He kissed her again, gently, careful not to give her the chance to pull him close. “Of course you’re not a slut. How could anybody think that of you?” He glanced over at the security guard. Time was wasting, and his balls felt like they were full of molten lead. He sat back on his haunches and sighed. “Salina, dear, I’m a married man and I have a reputation to maintain.”

She raised a hand demurely to her slightly parted lips. “Of course, congressman. I’d never do anything to ruin your reputation.” For a second he though she was going to cry.

“I know you wouldn’t, honey. Still, it’s hard for me. My wife’s not as fond of sex as she used to be when we were first married. And I,” he chuckled softly, “well, I’ve always had a very high sex drive. And what with all the travel and the speeches and the politicking, well a man gets all tense and he just needs some relief now and again.”

“I understand, congressman. What is it you want me to do?”

He kissed her forehead and pulled away. “I want you to let me watch.”

She sat up with a start. “Excuse me?”

He motioned to the guard. “I want you to let me watch while you do it with Jensen here.”

“But I thought. I thought…” For a second he was sure she would to be angry, then she looked a little frightened, as her eyes shifted to the body guard standing like a statue. The congressman could see the wheels turning. Nothing exciting ever happened in this girl’s little town, and this just might be the highlight of her bucolic life. Besides, most women, and more than a few men found Jensen quite attractive.

He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh and brought it to rest just before it reached the soft triangle of her panties. “Please. It would mean so much to me. I do want you, so badly. He laid her small, well manicured hand against the raging bulge in his trousers, and she gasped. “I haven’t had sex in awhile now, what with Mrs. Dodd not interested. I’m desperate for some relief. Before I met you, I thought I’d just go back to the hotel room, have a shower, and… well, take care of it, the way we men have to do sometimes. God knows that’s what I should do. I am a faithful man, Salina. And if you’re uncomfortable with this,” his hand stroked the back of hers where it lay against his erection, “I’ll understand if you go back to the party. I’ll just stay here a couple more minutes and take care of it.” He sighed. “Then I’ll be fit for company again.”

Her hand, against which he desperately wanted to thrust, moved carefully along the length of his cock. “Oh congressman, a man like you shouldn’t have to…” She blushed hard even at the thought. “Of course I’ll help you.”kissing-lips

“You’re an angel, Salina.” He gave her thigh a stroke very close to her panties.

She squirmed against his hand and offered him a warm smile. “Anything for you, congressman.”

Dodd had picked Jensen specifically because his body shape was so similar to his own, and because he was willing. The body guard shed his jacket and tie and sat down in the grass on the other side of Salina, who forced a shy smile.

“She has lovely breasts, don’t you think, Jensen?”

“Lovely, sir.”

He could see that the mayor’s daughter was trembling a little bit. He suspected it was as much with anticipation as fear. “Fondle them for me, Jensen. Caress them. Let me see how they yield to your touch.”

In response, the girl straightened her shoulders until her full young breasts were practically in the body guard’s large
hands. And when he cupped them, bringing skilled thumbs to circle her nipples, her eyelids fluttered and she whimpered softly.

“How do they feel?”

“Wonderful, sir, they feel wonderful. Firm and heavy, and such large nipples for such a young woman.”

The press of Salina’s burgeoning nipples against Jensen’s thumbs made the congressman’s cock surge in his trousers. It was uncomfortable, just exactly the way he needed it to be. “And she’s not wearing a bra,” he grunted.

“No sir. No bra. Surprised her father would let her meet a congressman with no bra on.”

“It’s a sundress,” she protested. “It’s not supposed to have a bra under it.”

“But you wanted the congressman to admire your tits, didn’t you,” the guard asked.

“And I certainly have done just that,” Congressman Dodd said, shifting to make his engorging cock rub against the seam of his trousers. “Unbutton her dress for me, Jensen, and let’s get a good look at what I’ve been fantasizing about all afternoon.”

He watched holding his breath as Jensen eased the buttons open slowly, one by one until her fullness was near to bursting from the front of the dress. With a grunt of satisfaction, Jensen eased the straps off her shoulders, then lifted her breasts free from the soft clingy fabric.

“Sundress or not,” the congressman said, “breasts that gorgeous should never be restrained by a bra. Play with them, Jensen, caress them, suckle them, the way I would if I wasn’t a faithful husband.”

The girl quivered and moaned holding Jensen’s head to her tits as though she were nursing him. “My breasts are so sensitive,” she gasped, arching against the guard’s insinuating tongue.

“I like a woman with sensitive breasts,” the congressmen said, stroking his cock through his trousers. “How about you, Jensen? Does a woman with sensitive breasts make your cock stiff?”

“Yes sir, very stiff indeed.”

“Good, good. Salina, you must be anxious to see what those lovelies of yours are doing to that man’s penis, aren’t you? I’m sure he’d like you to undo his fly and free the beast. That’s a girl, that’s a girl. Careful now, Jensen’s got a big one there.”

As he watched the girl fumble awkwardly with the front of Jensen’s trousers, he undid his own fly and let out an involuntary groan as he lifted his aching cock from his briefs. God, his balls felt near to bursting, but this was too good to rush through. He wanted to make it last.

Once the girl had freed Jensen’s cock, she gave a little gasp of surprise. “It’s so huge. I’ve never seen one so big. She touched it almost as though she were afraid it would bite her, and Jensen moaned softly at her touch. So very naïve, Dodd thought.

“Don’t you worry about his cock just yet, Salina. Let him pleasure you. That’s what I would do if I were free.” Then he spoke to the body guard. “Take off her panties, Jensen. I’m sure you want to see her pussy. I know I do.”

“Please don’t,” the girl trembled, screwed up her face in distress and pushed Jensen’s hands away. “I don’t know if I can go through with this. Besides, Daddy’ll kill me if he finds out.” She was quite a little cock tease, Dodd thought. But Jensen knew exactly how to handle a cock tease, and that made his balls even tighter.

Jensen eased her back onto the grass, soothing her protests. “Don’t worry, sugar, we’ll make sure your daddy doesn’t find out, besides, you really want to please the congressmen don’t you? Come on, now. Relax, and let me help you out of those panties. I promise I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make your little cunny feel so good.”

“I do. I do want to please the congressman,” she whimpered, “but I’m so nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s alright honey, nothing to be nervous about. It’s the most natural thing in the world. I promise I’ll help you and guide you, just like the congressman would. And I guarantee you’ll like what I’m going to do to you, what he would do to you if he could. You’ll make the congressman feel so good, and, well that’s serving your country, isn’t it, dear?”

God, Jensen was good. Dodd couldn’t count the number of times he’d watch Jensen fuck his women for him, and he loved the way the man talked to them, the way he always knew just what to say.

The girl leaned back on her elbows, watching as Jensen reached up under her skirt. She whimpered again softly and shuddered when he pulled her panties down over her hips and gave them a toss to the congressman, who caught them in mid air and began to rub them against his heavy balls as he stroked himself.

“Come on, Salina, dear,” the congressman coaxed. “Open your legs for me so I can see how beautiful you are down there and how much I would love to put my penis down there inside you if only I could.”

She offered him a quivering smile, gathered her skirt in her lap and spread her legs until he could see the pouting swollen folds of her cunny beneath her smoothly shaved mound, shining and moist in the glow of summer heat.

“Oh you are lovely, my dear,” the congressman groaned. “Such an exquisite pussy, all bare and smooth for me to see.

“She looks nice and slippery, Jensen, but she doesn’t look ready to accommodate your big cock yet.”

“Don’t worry, sir, she soon will be,” came the response, and the guard eased his middle finger up into the girl’s pout, positioning his hand so he could stroke her clit with his thumb. She gasped and ground her bare ass into the grass. “Oh god, oh god,” she moaned. She tried to watch what he was doing with his fingers, but in the end she fell back on the lawn writhing and groaning at his touch.

“You like that, don’t you, Salina?” Dodd asked. “You like having a man play with your pussy.”

She nodded and whimpered, spreading her legs still further.

“Is she tight?” the congressman asked.

“Tight and slick, and she smells hot. Can you smell her, congressman?”

“I want to taste her,” Dodd said. He scooted closer to the writhing girl and Jensen pulled back his finger, holding her lips open. “Oh that’s a nice cunny, nice and sopping,” the congressman crooned. “Give me a taste, Salina. Dip you fingers in that lovely pussy of yours and let me taste”

The girl reached between her legs and slid two fingers into her swollen twat and the congressman nearly exploded at the sight of her cunt gripping her fingers so hungrily. He fought back the urge to shoot his load on the grass right then, but he knew the best was yet to come. He pulled the girl’s fingers free and licked the delicious taste of young pussy. “Mmmm, I do love southern food.” He groaned. “You better have some, Jensen. She’s too tasty to waste.”

Jensen didn’t argue. He buried his face in Salina’s cunt and began licking her from anus to distended clit, careful as always, to make sure Dodd got a good view of what he was doing. Meanwhile the girl bucked and moaned beneath him and Jensen’s cock looked like it was stretched to the breaking point. There was no denying. It was time.

“I think she’s ready,” the congressmen said.

“I’m ready. Please, I’m ready,” the girl begged.

“You heard her. Now fuck her hard for me, Jensen. I need to come real bad.”

Jensen pulled away from the girl’s pussy, his face glistening with her slickness. Then he positioned his swollen cock over her pout and with one hard pushed shoved home. The girl cried out, then wrapped her legs around him and began to press up against his body as he thrust into her.

Dodd could smell the grass and the hot scent of pussy and whatever perfume it was the girl was wearing. He could hear the slapping of Jensen’s full heavy balls against the girl’s ass and his own heavy breathing as he jerked his cock, still holding the lacy pink panties against his bulging balls. God he loved small town picnics. The food was always good and the dessert was even better.

He could feel the weight building at the back of his balls, and as Salina cried out that she was coming, Jensen’s heavy grunt told a similar story. But even in his discomfort, the congressmen held out, moving himself into position as Jensen pulled free, his chest still heaving, his cock still dripping cum. He positioned himself to the side of the girl, holding her skirt up away from her clean shaven pussy with one hand, while the other held her engorged lips wide apart.

Then the congressman was ready. He knelt on the grass between her spread legs and gave one last hard tug and a grunt as he spurted viscous splashes of semen onto Salina Hayes’s smooth pink mound and over her dilated pout. Squirt after arching squirt of cum erupted from his balls and up through his aching cock. And with each grunt of release, he bent closer to the girl until he was practically on top of her, his face nearly touching her heaving breasts, his cock only a hair’s breadth from her swollen cunt.

Finally when he could breathe again, he pulled away and wiped his cock on her lace panties. It had been as close as he could get to coming inside her cunt while riding her hard. Sex by proxy was not the ideal, but it wasn’t so bad either. And he was, after all, a faithful family man.

As he zipped himself back into his trousers and tucked his shirt, he watched while Jensen wiped the girl’s cunt on a neatly folded white handkerchief before he helped her to her feet, her face glowing , her smile ecstatic, as she turned to the congressmen.

“Salina, my dear, you’ve been such a great help to me, and to my campaign by making my life a little easier. You’re such a patriotic young woman. People like you are the future of this great country. I have no doubt that if you keep up your studies, someday you may be taking over my job.” He kissed her affectionately on the cheek, giving her lovely tits a quick parting caress as he did so. Then he turned to his aid. “Come on, Jensen, Mrs. Dodd will be looking for me, no doubt.”

Back at the picnic, dessert and coffee were being served up, which was good because after he came, the congressman was always ravenous. He found himself in the dessert line behind the mayor.

“Sorry to have to leave you to your own devices like that, Congressman Dodd,” the mayor said, taking a big slab of devils food cake onto his already full plate, “But you know how it is when you serve the people.”

“No need to apologize at all, Mayor Hayes. I completely understand.”

The two picked up Styrofoam cups of coffee and headed back to the table.

After they’d both had a minute to sample their respective caches of dessert, the mayor spoke around a mouthful of cake. “You seemed well occupied with that young reporter. I wasn’t too worried about leaving you with her. Knowing how you are with the press, I figured you could handle her.”

The cake stuck at the back of the congressman’s throat and he gulped coffee nearly scalding his tongue. “Reporter?”

“Salina Hayes. Surely she told you. Works with some lefty magazine. Don’t think much of her politics, but she seemed nice enough, polite. Good looking woman.”

“You mean she’s not your daughter?”

The mayor laughed. “Oh heavens no. The last name’s just a coincidence.”

“But you said she was studying political science at the university.”

“That’s right. Our daughter, Lisa. She’s taking summer courses though and won’t be home until next month. Powerfully disappointed she didn’t get to meet you though. You’re her hero, you know?”

Trying not to panic, Dodd looked around for some sign of Salina Hayes, but she was nowhere to be found. His appetite was suddenly gone, and he was about to excuse himself for a frantic look around when Jensen approached.

“Sir, this is for you.” He handed the congressman a neatly folded note ripped from a spiral notebook, the kind Dodd could imagine a reporter using. His stomach turned to ice. Was this it then? Was she writing him a note telling him to kiss his career good-bye? Feeling suddenly sick, he took the note, holding his breath as he opened it slowly. It read:

 

Thanks for the use of your body guard. He was very helpful. A woman just needs some relief now and again. Thought I was going to have to go back to the hotel, have a shower and just take care of it, the way we women often must.

S. H.

p.s.

In case you’re wondering, I minored in theatre in college.

 

political-parties-1-728

Congressman Dodd nearly fainted with relief. He folded the note carefully and slipped it into his pocket. “Thanks Jensen. You’ve been a real help.”

Mrs. Dodd returned from the community center with two new quilts she’d bought. Christmas gifts, she said. The congressman enjoyed the rest of his cake and cheerfully joined the mayor and his neighbors in a rousing discussion on the falling prices of soy beans.

 

Shameless Selfie Peek at a Shameless Diary

Dreams imageIMG_0347

 

It’s Shameless Selfie time again, and with me being in the honeymoon stage of this year’s NaNoWriMo I find myself thinking a lot about what it means to be a scribe, to be a wordsmith. That being the case, I thought it would be a good time to take a little shameless peek at In The Flesh and Susan’s secret diary. Enjoy!

 

In The Flesh Blurb:

When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 

kdgrace-itf-finalIn The Flesh Excerpt — Not Alone in the Dark:

I wasn’t alone in the dark. I knew that the first time I entered the crypt at Chapel House. I could feel a presence there, almost as though someone stood just behind me, about to reach out and touch me. The shiver over my skin was not so much from fear, though certainly there was an element of fear, as it was from longing, bone-deep longing. I could barely breathe for it, I could barely stand under the weight of it, and I couldn’t imagine how such an ache, such a hunger could exist inside my flesh and not tear me apart. I was astonished that Annie seemed completely unaware of anything out of the ordinary, and to be quite honest, I wasn’t anxious to share it with her.

She continued to chatter on about her plans to make Chapel House over with a state of the art kitchen—she who didn’t cook, and a master suite that would rival the finest hotels in London. Strange that I could listen with one part of my brain and comment on her ideas for an open plan living space, for a library in the choir loft, for a wet room in the sacristy, while with another part of my brain I felt like every cell of my body was responding to whatever it was, whoever it was that I was certain waited there in the darkness, just beyond the beam of Annie’s Maglite.

 

*****

 

The departmentalizing of Annie’s plans and the feel of the presence in the darkness became much more difficult when I felt the closeness of a warm, hard body against my back and the humid nip of a kiss on the nape of my neck. I explained away my little gasp of surprise to Annie by saying I’d almost lost my footing. I should have been frightened. I should have been terrified, and believe me, I was. But by the time I felt a large hand splayed low against my belly, by the time I was certain of the maleness pressed hard and low just above my butt, I was far more intrigued than I was frightened. Even if terror had won out, I don’t think I could have forced myself to move as the hand in the darkness migrated to cup my breasts and thumb my nipples, first one, then the other, and the slow grind and undulation from behind became more demanding.

“The roses, they smell lovely.” I managed a breathless response to Annie’s ramblings about plans for the overgrown mess of a garden. “You might want to consider a scent garden.”

She laughed. “I can’t smell anything, but then you were always the one with the sensitive nose. Of course I’ll make sure there are lots of roses.” She knew they were my favorite, but I couldn’t imagine her not smelling them; the scent was nearly overwhelming in the tight space of the crypt. To my surprise, as she rambled on about a patio with a Jacuzzi, the smell of roses was subsumed in my own scent and the humid, piquant scent of a man well aroused. The hand on my breast began a slow, torturous descent, and I wanted nothing more than for Annie to keep talking, keep planning, anything to keep her from dragging me away from this place, at least for a few more minutes.

I asked about the Jacuzzi, hoping that would give me another minute. By the time she got started about the sites she’d looked up online and the builders she’d talked to, I was rocking back against the hardness, craning my neck to yield as much bare skin as possible to teeth and tongue and lips all soft and warm and wet and sharp and hard and demanding. Oh,

I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, but looking back, I wonder how the hell Annie couldn’t see? How could she have missed it? But she rattled on and on about some builder just up the road near Keswick who was supposed to be really good, some guy named Michael. Like I gave a fuck.

The study suddenly felt stuffy and overheated, and Michael’s grip on my hand convulsed. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at me.

Magda paid little attention to either my discomfort or Michael’s. She just kept on reading.

He was cute, Annie said. That led to observations about this Michael’s broad shoulders and nice arse and speculation as to whether or not he would be any good in bed, and was it wise to seduce him before he put in her Jacuzzi or wait till after and seduce him in it. All the while I nodded and pretended to be interested.

I was thankful for the extra time, but Christ, how could she not notice me standing there, legs apart, rocking back and forth and shifting from foot to foot like I had ants in my knickers? In truth, what I wanted in my knickers surely couldn’t actually be there, and yet I felt it, fucking hell, how I felt it! I swear, I could feel muscle and sinew. Hell, I could feel the actual shape of an erection as though we were both naked, as though all he need do, this dark being who surely was just my imagination, was bend me over and open me, me struggling to keep my breathing quiet, me struggling to focus enough attention on my friend that she wouldn’t suspect I was about to come. Oh yes, I was terrified. I would graveyard-angel-1have, should have, run, if I hadn’t been so intrigued, so turned on. I just wanted one more second, and then another and another.

In desperation that shocks me even now as I write this in the dark silence of Annie’s flat, I grabbed onto a wrist that I swear was as solid and warm as my own and guided the caress, the tease, the fondling of fingers and palm down my belly toward where I really needed it to be.

Annie yammered on about this Michael, all the things she’d heard about him, all the things she wanted to do to him—at least I think she did. My God, my whole body felt alive, every cell, every molecule. I could damn near feel the coursing of my own blood through my veins. You have no idea what an exhilarating combination fear and arousal make. I lost track of what Annie was saying, and the air was filled with the scent of sex. I could smell him, actually smell this phantom man, who was as near release as I was, and I was sure, as my knees gave beneath me, I felt the warm wet of his orgasm against my lower back. And then for an instant everything around me was silk and darkness, so perfect, so ecstatic. But just beyond that warm tight space, I knew. I knew as well as I know my own breath, I was terrified, and what I felt was like no terror I’d ever known before and, holy God in heaven, I want to feel it again.

 

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“No one writes paranormal fiction like KD Grace. In penning her tales of myths and magic, she plumbs psychological and spiritual depths that most authors don’t even realize exist. Ms. Grace ignores tropes and conventions, following the trail of her stories down the rabbit hole of her own fertile imagination. The truths she unearths amaze, arouse, terrify and delight.” Lisabet Sarai

 

It’s NaNoWriMo Time Again, and I’m Piloting Fury!

Scribe-computer-keyboardMG_07771-225x300I love November! November is National Novel Writing Month! I love the camaraderie, I love the challenge and I love the endless possibilities and the way the creative energy simply explodes in unexpected ways when I have only thirty days to finish a novel. Most of you already know that my latest release, The Tutor, got written last year during NaNoWriMo, and I had so much fun, that I decided to try it again this year.

 

What I wasn’t expecting was the I’d be making my first ever attempt at a Science Fiction novel, which I’m calling, Piloting Fury. To celebrate NaNoWriMo 2016, I’m sharing a little of my WIP with you lovelies today. This is the beginning of the first chapter. Please remember this is only a work in progress and this is the first draft, but I’m rather pleased with the direction Fury is heading already. Hope you enjoy.

 

Piloting Fury Blurb:

“Win the bet and the Fury’s yours. Lose the bet and your ass is mine.” It seemed like a no-brainer, Rick Manning’s slightly inebriated offer. If he’d been sober, he’d have remembered Diana “Mac” McAlister never lost a bet. All her she life she’d dreamed of owning her own starship, and when the Fury’s ne’er-do-well, irritating as hell captain all but hands the Fury to her on a silver platter she figures she can’t lose. But she does. That’s how the best pilot in the galaxy finds herself the indentured 2nd mate of a crew that, thanks to her, has doubled in size. Too late, she finds out the Fury is way more than a cargo ship. It’s a ship with a history — one Mac may not be able to live with and one that she’s been a part of for a lot longer that she could imagine, and Rick Manning was not above fixing a bet to get her right at the center of it all, exactly where he needs her to be.

 

Piloting Fury Excerpt — The Bet:

 

“Win the bet and the Fury’s yours. Lose the bet and your ass is mine.” Rick Manning was more than a little bit drunk. He had to be to make that sort of bet with me. Everyone knows you don’t gamble with Diana Mac unless you want to lose. I never lost – ever! What gambling I managed in spaceports was my income, and I hoarded it all obsessively. Every credit of it went toward paying off the contract of my indenture. Nope! I never lose because I can’t afford to, and yet here I stood on the small but efficient deck of the Fury, reporting to Rick fucking Manning, and the bastard was nowhere to be found. “Probably sleeping it off in some whore’s bed,” I growled under my breath.

“You cheated, you bastard!” I said more loudly. Even if he heard me, what the hell was he gonna do, dock my wages, crest-05e1a637392425b4d5225780797e5a76throw me in the brig? “I know you cheated, I just don’t know how you did it,” I said out loud to the console, which, in spite of my anger at Manning, already had me intrigued. OK — Pilot! I confess. Even visions of strangling Rick Manning with a New Hibernian cryo-whip couldn’t hold my imagination quite like the console of a new ship – even if it was one I was now indentured to for who the hell knew how many galactic years. I’m not bragging when I say I’m the best pilot in the galaxy, and that means I’ve never met the spacefaring ship I couldn’t fly. Not that I got that many opportunities indentured to the Dubrovnik, but Captain Harker had fattened his pocket more than once by betting on me in an impromptu race of some sort. Of course the ship was never my own, and that made the bet even more interesting. No one ever saw it coming. In spite of my crap situation, I couldn’t help admiring the clean lines and the efficient arrangement of the Fury’s controls. Already I was jonesing to see what the ship could do, and the truth was that the Fury was one helluva ship – not a new one, by any means. Hell I doubted if Manning even knew what the original make was. If the entire ship wasn’t glued together with spare parts, I’d be surprised, and yet leave it to Manning to win, steal, smuggle and finagled some of the best, state of the art, components in the galaxy. I only knew that because he and I got drunk together on Diga Prim waiting out a lava storm one night in a bar. The man was as proud of his ship as he was his cock and, while I’d made it a point not to check out the latter, I’d wanted to check out the Fury for a long time. Just not like this.

I flopped down in the pilot’s seat, which strangely enough felt as though it molded to fit my butt. I knew for a fact that Manning’s ass needed a little more space than mine did, and so did his broad shoulders, which while I had admired in more than a few space ports where we’d had the misfortunate to ran into each other, I now loathed with a loathing hotter than the fiery pits of Diga Prime, and envisioned kicking that very fine ass out the airlock somewhere in the Outer Rim. But thanks to the fine mess the cheating scumbag had gotten me into, I couldn’t even do that, and it had been such a sure thing. I was sitting pretty, wasn’t I? The newly healed incision on my forearm itched like crazy, and while it was already all but invisible, it was far better than any manacles Manning could have slapped on me. I should have known. I should have suspected something, but I was too busy patting myself on my back for my good fortune, too greedy for more.

I should have suspected something when Manning lost a small fortune to me in game after game of Sandirian poker. At the time, the man wasn’t yet too drunk to make intelligent decisions, and I knew for a fact he wasn’t a gambling addict. I’d heard about addicts who had gambled away far larger fortunes than the one Manning had amassed, which was just enough to buy back my indenture with a nice little nest egg to tide me over until I could find other work. Nope, Manning was a lightweight when it came to gambling losses. In fact a minor satrap was legendary for gambling away a whole planetoid out at the edge of the Orion Nebula. I just figured it was a cock thing with Manning. I recognized the signs. The skirt had worked its magic just like it always did with lonely, horny sailors in spaceport hoping to get laid. Men or women – it didn’t really matter. If they gave me that look and offered to buy me a drink, I knew I had them. They all just assumed because I was sitting alone, shuffling a deck of cards, I was as lonely and as in need of entertainment as they were. And then there was Rick Manning. He’d been doing his best for the past several galactic years to get me in bed. By now it had become a game between us. He flirted with me, and I let it roll right over me. I liked the banter. I liked the fact that we had intelligent, often witty conversations in between his flirtatious, but harmless advances. It was what we did, the two of us, so why should I think anything was particularly different about last night, and yet the man had lost everything he had, all of his life savings and all he could do was chuckle.

“It’s your hair, Mac,” he said, as he motioned over a notary to make the transaction legal. “And when you wear that dress and let your hair down like that, of course a man’s gonna lose. And you, you little minx, that’s what you’re counting on, isn’t it?”

I rubbed my fingers together indicating money. “My entire income depends on me making it work, indentured here, remember?” I laid a palm against my chest. “But if it’ll help,” I grabbed up the band that had secured the battered deck of cards and pulled my hair back in it. “The dress I can’t do anything about. Other than my uniform, which is back on the Dubrovnik, I don’t own anything else.” I truly did live close to the bone. But that was about to end, wasn’t it?

He leaned over the table and offered a smile that would have shamed the Suns of Valoxia. “Well that’s a start. Tell you what, one more hand and I’ll bet my jacket.” If you win, you can cover up a little bit and maybe give me an even chance, and if you lose,” he looked me up and down.

“I won’t,” I said shoving the deck of cards across the table to him.”

He took them and began to shuffle, his eyes still locked on mine. “If you lose, then I get your clothes. All of them.”

“I won’t,” I repeated organizing my cards as he handed them over.

In no time at all I was bundled up in a vintage flight jacket that Manning swore up and down was a real Terran relic he’d one in a poker game he’d apparently done much better in that he was doing in this one. He slugged back another New Hibernian whisky and the barmaid, who bent so he got a good view down her bustier, brought him another one. I laid down enough credits to pay for my drinks and stood. “Gotta go, Manning. You’ve got nothing left I can win off of you, and I sure as hell don’t want the clothes off your back.”

“Not so fast, Mac,” he said, his words not exactly slurred, but getting pretty close. He blocked my exit with an extended leg, nodded back to my chair and with a wave of his wrist sent the barmaid scurrying for another whisky for me. “You can’t leave till I’ve had a chance to win back all my shit.”

“I can, and I will,” I said, stepping over his leg, but even half drunk, Manning was fast, he lifted his thigh, effectively high-centering me and ending me up in his lap. He curled a thick finger around a strand of hair that had escaped my make-shift pony tale and, I remember thinking it strange that he smelled more like a man who’d been enjoying a trek or a camping trip in the National Parks of the Beledine than someone three sheets to the wind on cheap-assed whisky. I even remember not minding his flirtations at the time, but then why would I when I was a free woman at last, one with a very nice jacket, even if it was considerably too big.

“I do have something I can bet.” His breath was warm against my ear, and I felt the buzz of my own generous alcohol consumption that made me think I just might take him up on what I figured he was about to offer me as apart of my drunken celebration of my freedom. After all, an indentured didn’t have a lot of free time for sex, and for me, when I did have the time, I was trying to manage a few more credits toward my freedom.

“Oh that,” I nodded down to his lap and gave a little laugh. “I figure I can have that without wagering for it.”

The chuckle he returned sounded positively animal, and his lips quirked into a crooked smile. “And while I can think of nothing I would enjoy more than a good shag in the sheets with you, Mac, that wouldn’t win me back my stuff now would it?”

I was about to say since he had nothing to offer I saw no point. I was about to walk out the door of the bar free and clear, go straight to Captain Harker and pay off the contract of my indenture and see what it felt like to sleep and wake up as a free woman. That’s what I should have done, in retrospect, but then Manning dropped the bomb.

“One more hand, Mac. Just one. Win the bet and the Fury’s yours. Lose the bet and your ass is mine.”

Fuck me! If he hadn’t been holding onto me, I would have fallen right off onto the floor. Now I’m not a woman who is often speechless, though as an indentured, I know when to keep my mouth shut, but this time, all I could do was make a couple of fish gasps as he gave me that look I was sure had gotten more than a few women in his bed and probably worked just as well getting him out of trouble with the authorities when his cargo was less than copasetic.

“What do you say, Mac? You up for it? I’m betting the Fury along with the next three contracts I have to fill.” He shrugged. “If I don’t have a ship, I can’t fulfill the contracts, right? Come on. Give me at least one more chance.”

“Your ship? You want to bet the Fury?” I stumbled off his lap all but falling on my ass before I made it back to my chair, and he was already motioning the notary over.

“What does this mean, her ass is yours?” The notary asked, with a strong New Hibernian accent. “You know I need specifics.”

“He wants me to fuck him, if I lose,” I clarified. Me arrogant? Huh! I could already picture myself easing the sleek bulk of the Fury out of dock and seeing what the ship could do in open space.

There were three other tables demanding the attention of the notary, and the fact that such a big wager had to be witnessed wasn’t making them or him very happy. “Well I can hardly write that down, can I?”

Manning rolled his eyes and grabbed the notary’s device using the touch pad to type in whatever was a good euphemism for the thing I was certain wasn’t going to happen, and I was so sure of myself, so positive that the Fury was already mine, that I didn’t bother to look at what he wrote. I just placed my thumb against the DNA reader on the keypad and the notary grunted his approval, nodding to the barmaid who brought over a sealed pack of cards. Manning settled her on his lap – for luck, he said, as he shuffled the cards, considerably longer than necessary, but then I could be patient when I would be walking away with the price of my freedom plus change and a bright shiny starship of my very own. I certainly wasn’t worried about Manning. He was a respectable pilot – not as good as I am, but not bad Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020either, and he was one cunning sonovabitch. He’d land on his feet no matter what happened.

When he dealt me three tens, I figured I was in like Flin. The vacuous barmaid was too busy playing with Manning’s bronze curles to give anything away, and really, while she might meet him after hours and commiserate with a good fuck, she wasn’t at all interested in the outcome. Looking back, I should have thought that strange. I should have thought the whole situation strange, that a man was about to bet his fucking starship to a woman who had a reputation for never losing. Looking back, I should have thought of a lot of things, but all I could think about was that in one glorious night, I would gain my freedom and a starship with contracts pending.

I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about Rick Manning pulling a straight flush. But that’s exactly what the bastard did. Winner takes it all.

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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